#yennefer vengerberg x reader

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

witchers x maleficent!/fae!reader

summary: how witcher characters would react to someone having maleficent type horns/wings and magic

notes: got this out just in time for the new season phew

warnings: gn!reader, lambert the middle schooler, jaskier's composing

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @lu-in-the-library @sunndust (msg me to be added!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He’s mostly just praying that fate isn’t throwing another curveball at him

Sureeee he’ll spend time with you!! (his fingers are crossed and he’s praying let them be normal let them be normal

Will end up totally accepting you, but he doesn’t love the attention that comes from being a witcher in the company of a fae

He secretly adores your wings

Jaskier

Immediately in song-writing mood

Will make up things about your life to fabricate contents for his ballads

Won’t treat you very different from his other ~weird~ friends

Loves loves loves the attention that comes with it (read: basks in it like the sun)

Yennefer

Yen is fascinated

The academic in her wants to tell her colleagues

And the girl who was all alone and abandoned in her absolutely adores you

You’d do good to make sure that she’s on your side, or she might sell you out

Definitely wants a piece of your magic either way

Ciri

Poor ciri

Eugh she just wants some friends

That don’t die…

She loves your horns and wings

Definitely adores you for also being *different* and having your own magic thing going on

Eskel

He adores your wings

If there is a wing care routing, please let this man do it

Otherwise, he might invent a conditioner-potion for your wings

Don’t scare him in the beginning though, or you may get stabbed

Lambert

Has the reaction of a seventh-grader

Might literally go woahhhhhh

Big hater, but not against you

Will protect you, but will also ask you if you can carry stuff with your horns constantly

Yeah becoming a christmas tree-esque creature may be a con

Coen

Coen honestly just enjoys a helping hand

Your magic will in fact be contributing to his work

Tbf he also makes sure you don’t get killed by angry farmers

The whole thing starts off as a symbiotic relationship but will turn into a friendship (if not more hehe)

Vesemir

Bro does not trust you

Thots and prayers girldude

Oh you have horns and wings? LIKE A MONSTER??

Unless one of his witchers (read:children) introduces you to him, he may attempt murder

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegardd]

...if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all.

[cas-kingdom]

PLS. GERALT TEACHING AKELA TO ICE SKATE 😩

Find the OC version of this fic here.

The air had been cold all morning, but somehow it was more so as you looked out across the frozen lake. Giggles carried towards you by the wind, soft laughter and teasing remarks from Ciri as she taught Yennefer to ice skate. One part of you longed to go and join them, but the other—

"Y/N."

You glanced over your shoulder. Geralt leant against the axe he'd been cutting wood with. His head tilted, one hand at his hip, he offered a knowing smile. "You can join them, you know."

He had already told you as such, so he knew you knew. Nonetheless, stubbornness ran through your veins like blood, and when your mind was set on something, it was set in stone. Though, Geralt had always considered himself adept at breaking that stone. He had an axe now, after all.

You sniffed and brushed your hair behind your ears, a useless act considering the winter breeze. You turned back to the lake and watched as Yennefer yelled out and slipped, grabbing onto Ciri with a flurry of giggles.

You were long over your aversion to the princess's relationship with Geralt, but this...feeling you had towards Ciri and Yennefer was unfamiliar and unanticipated. The two were obviously close. Ciri seemed to have that effect on people.

"No," you said eventually, "it's alright. Ciri has my skates, anyway."

Geralt shrugged. He dropped the axe and walked towards the lake. "We don't need skates. Come." He stopped by the bank and reached a hand behind him expectantly. When you didn't grasp it, he turned to see you stood in the same spot, unblinking. Geralt dropped his arm and sighed. "Y/N, you love to skate. Come here."

You didn't vocally decide not to listen, but Geralt was well versed in the behaviour of the girl he'd raised. When you crossed your arms over your chest, not defiantly, more unwillingly, he dropped his arm and let a small smile slip onto his face.

"You remember when I first taught you to skate?" he asked, stepping one foot on the lake. He tested it, his boot slipping easily across the smooth surface. "You were four."

You couldn't help but breathe a short laugh. "You mean I taught you."

The Witcher stepped onto the lake, using his arms for balance. He skidded a bit, then turned to face you. "I slipped over once," he reminded you.

"And used four-year-old me to keep you up."

Geralt hummed morosely. Admittedly, that had not been his finest moment. Still. He reached his arm out again and opened his hand. "If you are so good, come and prove it."

There was no hint of competitiveness in his voice, just a discreet encouragement, and you took it with a long sigh and a reluctant smile, trudging over to him and taking his hand. He helped you onto the lake, allowing you to grip his sleeve as you found your footing, and noted fondly that said grip did not slacken even as you both slid slowly along the outskirts of the lake.

Ciri and Yennefer were still far out in the middle, slipping and tripping and laughing until their hearts' content. Somehow, Geralt doubted you wanted to be close to them right now, and not because of your refusal to leave the safety of the lake's edge. He wouldn't discuss it with you until he felt you needed it. He had an idea of what was bothering you, but as long as it wasn't dispiriting you as much as it had when your disapproval had surrounded him, he was sure it would fix itself.

You let go of his sleeve eventually, eyes fixed on the ice as you slid along it. Geralt turned so he was gliding backwards, hands at the ready in case his apparently oh-so-professional child needed some support. You were determined, though, your lack of skates doing nothing to thwart you, and Geralt felt himself relaxing and enjoying the—

"Oh, fuck." The moment he took a single wrong step, everything went to shit. Balance long forgotten, Geralt went into panic mode, arms pinwheeling, feet fighting for traction. You panicked too at first, instinctively attempting to launch forward to catch him lest he fall straight forward, but when you figured out he was in no imminent danger, you straightened with a snort.

"Geralt, you—Geralt—Geralt, you're making it worse!" Your words arrived between barrels of laughter as Geralt continued in the reclamation of his balance. He looked like a newborn deer, its long legs unused to the ground beneath it. You had tears in your eyes and when a burst of hysterics echoed across the lake, you realised Ciri and Yennefer had noticed the spectacle too.

Your laughter died when Geralt did indeed fall forward, though from the look on his face you were sure it was purposeful. Before you could utter a single squeal of anticipation, he lunged towards you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down beneath him as he fell. His hands went behind your head to shield the impact but the wind was knocked from you all the same, even more so when the Witcher's tickling hands found your sides.

"Hey!" You could feel the laughter-induced tears on your cheeks freezing, the harsh wind almost as cold as the ice beneath you. Geralt made quick work of boxing you between his arms, poking and prodding and scribbling his fingers across every spot he knew you possessed.

"You may be better than me at ice skating," he ground out breathlessly, "but here is something I will always best you at."

"Stop ihit, you bihig lump!" You pushed at his face and Geralt grunted with his newly blocked vision. Seconds later, a heavy force ploughed into his back and he was knocked off course.

"Attack!" Ciri yelled. She grabbed piles of snow from the bank and shoved as much as her hands would allow down his jacket.

Geralt howled. "Fucking fuck, Cirilla!"

Yennefer leaned down and extended an arm towards you, still on your back and struggling for breath. You hesitated but took it. You stood up slowly, slipping once or twice, but made it safely into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer held you close, a grin on her face as she watched the princess and the Witcher wrestle, and you found yourself leaning into her. Yennefer leant her chin on your head, and you relaxed. As always, there was never a need to worry.

Your family was too tight-knit to ever leave anyone out.

Witcher Masterpost

[lunarbreaksblog]

The Witcher x Witch!F!Healer!reader

Geralt of Rivia

He wasn't going to go near you, never trusted witches really but like he never trusted them, he was compelled to you like a moth to a light.

When he saw that you could heal people, he knew you were a rare being. Witches never dabbled in health and healing. But you did.

He asks you why, you simply say that you wish to help people. This is the start a grand friendship between you and the Witcher. You help him and he helps you.

You always laughed at his dry jokes. You didn't have much company really, you were shy and kept to yourself. Knew to keep yourself away from the village near by

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Becomes quite jealous of you when Geralt talks of you to her, she felt that you were going to manipulate or take Geralt away from her.

However, those assumptions quickly diminish when she sees you. Then to hear that you are a healer that makes you quite a rare thing to be treasured in the continent.

She decides that she'll take you under her wing, not to teach magic but to teach you how to handle yourself since she could see that you were bad at human interaction.

You would be dead if you had to be a royal mage to a king.

Maybe she'll ask Geralt if they could both take you to bed. She just knows you'll be even more beautiful.

Triss merigold

Absolutely adores you! She's only seen a handful of healers in her life so far. You, though, are the most greatest healer so far.

You have compassion which is suprisely rare for healers.

Her and you get along quite well. You too have regular meet ups to talk about everything that's going on in the continent. She helps you also get better at your people skills.

Iorveth

He's not one known to be gentle with humans, especially magic wielding humans. In his lifetime, all magic wielders have been egotistical. However, you are different.

It agitates him to no end to see you healing his troops, he feels like his manipulating you but he can't shake off the feeling that maybe you are the one manipulating him actually.

It's kinda like a one-sided angry staring match and with you being very uncomfortable.

Vernon roche

Like Iorveth, he doesn't trust you at first but after you make him some herbal tea that reluctantly drank thanks to Ves. He eases up on you.

Somehow you made his back not have that ache that's been bothering him for a while.

Starts looking out for you and just generally helps you when you need it

You've wormed yourself into his heart but he won't show it

[halohalona]

IN THE SPAN OF THE SAME FUCKING WEEK WE GET SUPERMAN BUT LOSE GERALT

HENRY SAID THAT HE'LL ONLY CONTINUE THEE ROLE IF THE SHOW STAYED TRUE TO THE BOOKS. NETFLIX IF TOU CAN'T EVEN STAY TRUE TO A FUCKING BOOK THEN CANCEL THE FUCKING SHOW

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

The Witcher Masterlist

my requests for the Witcher are currently OPEN!! i'm partial to eskel, and love writing imagines/talking about my headcanons, but open to pretty much any character!!

message me/hmu to be added to a taglist!

main masterlist | request guidelines

Geralt of Rivia

r o m a n t i c

A Quiet Moment - relationship: geralt x reader | summary: based on some prompt that asked you to write a scene between two characters just being around each other with no dialogue. Immediately thought of Geralt. | tags: fluff, angst

Extraordinarily normal - coming soon...

Scales Unbalanced - coming soon...

Geralt of Rivia NSFW Alphabet | tags: fluff, smut

p l a t o n i c

Stern - coming soon...

Eskel

A Hero from the Songs - coming soon...

Ribs - relationship: eskel x reader | summary: You're not from the world where the Witcher takes place. So, to stay alive, you stay glued to your witcher - Eskel. Catching feelings for him was bound to happen anyway. Right? Maybe a tiny, life-threatening encounter with a leshy is just the little push the both of you need. | tags: fluff, angst

Witchers

Witchers + stressed singlemom!reader - characters: geralt, eskel, lambert, coen | tags: fluff, angst

Geralt, Lambert, Eskel + drunk!so - characters: geralt, lambert, eskel | tags: fluff

Witchers + someone making their s/o uncomfortable - characters: geralt, eskel, lambert, coen | tags: slight angst, fluff

Imagines + headcanons (various)

How The Witcher characters would react to someone from our world falling into theirs - characters: geralt, yen, jaskier, triss, eskel, lambert, vesemir | tags: fluff, crack, timetravel

Modern!Human in Kaer Morhen - characters: geralt, yen, triss, jaskier, eskel, coen, lambert, vesemir | tags: fluff, crack, timetravel

How The Witcher characters would react to Lambert’s child surprise - characters: geralt, yen, ciri, triss, eskel, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff

The Witcher characters + monstertamer!reader - characters: geralt, yen, jaskier, ciri, eskel, lambert, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff

The Witcher characters + maleficent/fae!reader - characters: geralt, jaskier, yennefer, ciri, eskel, lambert, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff

[bumblesimagines]

“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

- Ciri

“ i'm extremely okay with this. “

pronouns for y/n: he/him/his, male reader

Smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress, Ciri swept her gaze over those present. The Belleteyn festival. A chance for Ciri to feel normal again, to forget her worries for a night. All she felt was giddiness as she took in the lively attendees and listening to the music playing. She kept her mask close to her face and hoped nobody would recognize her.

Geralt and Yennefer's eyes bore into her back as she strode through the festivities, gaze bouncing around in order to soak everything in before they'd eventually be forced to go back out on the road in search of a new place to call home. She smiled and laughed at the performances, finally being able to enjoy herself. She turned to glance back at Geralt and Yennefer, shoulder bumping against someone and she saw it, a new vision.

She heard laughter, a mix of her voice and a stranger's. She saw someone's bare back turned toward her in a cozy bed and watched herself reach out to touch them. The wail of a baby pierced through next and she found herself holding a bundle that had her ashen-gray hair.

When she blinked, she saw the festival again and a voice rumbled near her ear. "Apologies." It sent a shiver down her spine and she whirled around, the mask nearly slipping from her fingers. The man tilted his head at her, (E/C) eyes peeking through the maroon mask on his face.

"You-" She caught herself and cleared her throat, finding that her hands had begun trembling. Had she just witnessed her future? Was she to become... a mother? A wife?

"Are you alright?" He asked, lips curling into a teasing smile. "Did I knock into you that hard?"

"No, I... Sorry, I..." At a loss for words for the first time in a while, Ciri certainly didn't miss the feeling. A hand gently touched her back and she glanced over her shoulder, finding Geralt and Yennefer at her side.

"Is something wrong, Ciri?" Geralt questioned, his eyes fixated on the man. Most would typically turn into blabbering messes when Geralt glared at them, but the stranger simply stared back at him until his attention turned to Yennefer and he grinned.

"It's been a while, Yen." He purred and scooped her hand into his, lips brushing against her knuckles. Ciri felt a flash of jealousy and blinked, startled by her own reaction.

"(Y/N)…" Yennefer breathed. "Vilgefortz said you were dead. He said you had been-"

"Killed in battle? And you believed that, Yen? You wound me." (Y/N) released her hand and shook his head, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment.

"You know each other?" Geralt cocked a brow, a frown settling on his features.

"(Y/N) is a mage who worked alongside Vilgefortz sometimes." Yennefer explained to the bulky witcher, violet eyes never leaving (Y/N), almost as if afraid if she blinked he'd disappear. "The Brotherhood had attempted many times to recruit him for his abilities. Why would he lead us to believe you were dead?"

"He owed me a favor." (Y/N) replied coolly and shrugged his shoulders, the disinterest on his face clear as day. Yennefer and Geralt exchanged a glance.

"You're a mage?"

"Indeed I am, Princess." Ciri's heart skipped a beat and she nearly huffed. He was a stranger. A potential threat... and possibly her future husband.

"What are you doing here then, mage?" (Y/N) looked back at Geralt, locking eyes with him as Geralt placed a protective hand over Ciri's shoulder.

"I was passing through and heard about the festival so I decided to attend."

"Where are you headed?"

"Anywhere, everywhere, and nowhere. I have no real destination in mind since it seems I'll bump into an old friend in most places. Being found by the Brotherhood is the last thing I desire." (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the witcher to gaze around him. Ciri swallowed.

"You should come with us."

"Ciri-"

"We have the same dilemma. We can help each other. You stay with us somewhere where you won't be found and in return, you can teach me magic." Ciri proposed with a sudden boost of confidence. (Y/N)'s lips formed a grin and he peered back at her, eyes lighting up with interest.

"I'm sure our little mage wouldn't enjoy-"

"Oh, I'm extremely okay with this."

[nnightskiess]

everytime you leave, part five

₊° - 𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

everytime you leave, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

With the sound and sensation… of her heart beating loudly in her ears, Yennefer found it hard to fall asleep. Unease, restlessness, but yet also the feeling of being in control, of being right where she should be, accompanied her daydreams as she tossed and turned beneath the covers. The windows rattled as another harsh gust of wind slapped against the walls of Aretuza, but while it had been a sound that had kept her wide awake during her first few weeks, it served as a comforting lullaby now. At least in this room, void of judgemental stares, void of feelings of envy and hatred, she could come closer to who she was before coming here. Alone and imprisoned with only her thoughts to keep her company. The wind continued to howl as the dancing flames in the fireplace barely managed to keep her from freezing. It was a particularly stormy night on the Isle of Thanedd. So high up this hill, at the foot of the ocean, Aretuza was often the first victim of the land’s ruthless weather. But it was nothing like she’d seen before. It was as if the rain pelting against the glass and the wind crying out were both begging to be let in, to comfort the newest addition to the Brotherhood. Yennefer could only imagine how you must be feeling right now. Cold and frightened of the unknown. She knew, because she had felt the exact same. And alone, most of all. Sure, she favoured some people over others, but Yennefer could never truthfully admit she had friends. That would be a lie. No one had ever been her friend, and being in Aretuza hadn't changed that. If anything, she'd shut down each and every attempt at a friendship, suspecting they made fun of her behind her back anyway. And she’d prefer to not have any friends. She’d stay to learn what she needed, to take care of herself as a mage in this world. Then she’d go and use that power and knowledge to live her own life. She was the worst of her class anyway, so what use would the Brotherhood have with her?

Her mind wandered back to you as the wind howled again. Somehow, as she’d looked into those eyes that had spat fire at her, she’d seen recognition. Familiarity, something kindred. It had given her a sensation she’d never felt before. Hope. Because there was hope in the power she felt rumbling through her veins the minute you locked eyes. She’d seen you as easy prey for the other mages the minute she’d watched Tissaia bring in your defeated form, seen you tattered and burned and bruised, and heard you banging against the door. She felt a little bad at the relief that washed over her, thinking that perhaps you'd be the next freak show with all those burns, that maybe you'd be even worse than her in classes and she wouldn't have to face Tissaia's wrath anymore. Then the littlest voice, hidden behind thick walls inside her, had wondered if maybe, she shouldn't pit against you. Maybe, she could finally have a friend, one as ruined as she was. Someone who understood her, who could see past the ugliness. But no, you were just like everyone else.

Yennefer closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed as she bit her lip until it bled. Her body was restless— it itched, it burned, it pinched and it was feverishly hot and piercing cold all at the same time. Yet her mind was even worse. The number of different things she smelt made her dizzy and nauseous— from the smell of blood, fire, and scorched earth, to that of summer rain, something flowery and, funnily enough, that of an apple tart. It was so specific, that it kept plaguing her, keeping her up. As if it was part of a memory she should have remembered and that it wouldn’t leave her senses until she did. Then there were the flashes of memories she saw when she closed her eyes— from the sun peaking through the thick canopy of treetops, a cellar stocked with food right before a harsh winter, muddy hands ploughing through the earth, the feeling of the cold water of a lake dancing against her thighs, to horses crying out and galloping in hopes to diminish the flames burning them alive. She heard screams, the soft trickle of a river, a song being hummed, and the bubbling of a large fire. Surely she must still be hallucinating, a direct result of the herbology class that had gone wrong today, where Tissaia had given them something to chew under false pretences just so they could learn to always keep their wits about them and stay alert. Because these rushes of smells and sensations weren’t hers, not all of them, at least. Perhaps this was another one of Tissaia's tests. They’d probably all wake up tomorrow, exhausted from the lack of sleep, and have the hardest test ever to train how well they’d do in the difficult circumstances of little sleep and even less concentration. Because Yennefer had none left of the latter. And when Yennefer couldn’t concentrate or control herself, she’d grow irritated, but more importantly, she’d become a danger, waiting to explode. Because that was Yennefer— she’d never implode. When she was annoyed, everyone would know. When she was mad, everyone would have to deal with it. Perhaps she was born like that, or she’d made it part of her defence after coming here. She, herself, was her most-priced possession now. But on the other side of the hall, hidden behind thick bricks and in the dark of the night, you were waiting for not the explosion, but the implosion. And when it came to you, an explosion would inevitably follow after that. You would only explode after imploding, after being hurt, defied and beaten. And after the events that had happened, you were waiting for another big bang to occur.

With your body shivering from the cold, you jumped as the windows clattered once more, the pelting rain finding amusement in it. They were making fun of you, you were sure, pointing fingers and not even trying to hide their grins and chuckles behind their hands. You were defeated. You were heartbroken. Exhausted to no end. But while everything in you screamed for sleep, a louder voice screamed with images, smells and sounds that had painted the nightmare of the last few days. It terrified you. Not even a few days here and somehow the mage in you had been unleashed more often than since your birth. Perhaps that was just an aftershock of this conduit moment Tissaia had been talking about. Or was this place some sort of amplifier? Or was everyone plagued by their terrors and were they just better at shutting them out?

You released a shaky breath when you swallowed back a sob. In the cold of this room, during this storm, all you longed for was your mother’s warm embrace, the way she’d comfort you with a hummed song, or how she’d bake her favourite tarts during the first day of winter. But you didn’t deserve warmth, nor did you long for it. Not anymore. Not after you’d seen what followed heat. The destruction it had left. You didn’t deserve to long for your mother or your family when you had been the one who’d brought them to their doom. And even while you tried to get those images to comfort you, an unfamiliar sensation washed over you. It had hit you as hard as the wind making the windows clatter. Unfamiliar sights and smells ensnared your mind. You could smell the waste of fruit and vegetables combined with the rotting of wet hay. You saw a pigpen, a well and a table full of kids. There were only three chairs, but no one seemed to mind eating their platter on the ground. A happy family, you presumed. But then your body shook with a sensation you’d only recently truly learned and embraced— anger. It grew warm, made beads of sweat tickle your forehead and made you let out a whine in pure fright. Not again. Not here. The only comfort you found was the humbling realisation that your hands and fingers were still freezing. So long as they were, nothing would happen. You saw a couple of kids again, heard them laughing, and watched as you were then pushed to the ground, your body jolting in your bed in real-time.

The wind cried out again, and you were back in your room. You had wanted to stay awake, not wanting to be caught off guard in this place, not feeling safe enough to rest, nor liking the way the door wasn't locked, meaning everyone had acces. But after all these visions had kept you restless, you’d prayed to fall asleep and just be rid of them. Only, how could you sleep in a room as cold and damp as this one and in total darkness? How could you be sure there was no one lurking? And why had that thought even crossed your mind? The sudden thought of it made you shoot up in your bed. Though you’d never truly realised the root of all these weird things happening in your life had been chaos, you had always been a girl very trusting of your gut, your inner instinct. That was exactly why your heartbeat stammered and bounced between your two ears. 

You pushed your legs over the edge of the bed and let your eyes search the darkness to see if there was any proof of your suspicion. You racked your brain to try and remember if there'd been anything useful in this room to defend yourself with, but you figured that they'd taken that away, seeing as you could harm yourself with it, too. The windows clattering in their hinges caught you off guard as your head snapped to them, where they still mocked your fright. The air changed and grew a little stuffy, as if a palpable sense of power had engulfed you, trying to dominate you. It elevated your senses and your chest rose up and down in shallow breaths. Your body started to prickle like it would whenever you’d fallen asleep on a limb resting in an uncomfortable position. You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen in fear, longing for your mother like a young child. You pushed a quiet sob out at the realisation that you didn't even remember the last time you'd hugged her. Your heartbeat sped up, but it wasn’t the warmth of tears that you felt on your face.

It was a hand, cupping against your lips, pushing harshly to muffle any sound that would escape.

“Not a sound.” Hushed a voice, which you could only hear because it had spoken so close to your ear. Stricken with fright, you fought your head out of their hold, eyes snapping open and immediately looking into the lilac eyes of the girl who had given you such a warm welcome earlier. With the same big eyes she had pierced your gaze mere hours before, you took in her face again. You reached forward, both your hands pushing at her chest to create some distance.

Yennefer stumbled backwards.

“You come into my room, unannounced, and jump at me from the dark?” You voiced, eyes wide and breathing fast. 

Yennefer didn’t feel like wasting her breath on starting a discussion with you, not this time, not when she was already this exhausted.

“You’re too loud, quiet your damn mind or I fucking will.” Yennefer huffed, standing back up to her full height, as much as she could. She watched you, eyes full of fire, but her bottom lip pouting out made her look less intimidating than she wanted to be.

Baffled, you reached forward again, an accusatory finger pointed Yennefer’s way, “Get out of my room!”

"You know that they let a girl die in that bed four days ago?" She stated matter of factly, ignoring how your eyes widened, then glanced around your room. It was as if Yennefer found joy in tantalising you, “Why’s your fire out? Do you want to see how long it will take you to freeze to death? Desperate to set the record of how quick someone can die after arriving?”

Yennefer shrugged, continuing her one-way conversation, "Good luck with that then, they won't let you if they don't want you."

“I said get out.” You sneered in a whisper, still aware that Yennefer was in your room, during this time of night. You didn't know if this visit was breaking any rules, though you supposed it did. And Tissaia had warned you to keep to yourself for now.

“Why? It’s finally quiet, isn’t it?” Yennefer challenged, staring at your idle form on the bed.

She was right, you quickly realised. The thoughts were gone, the sensations now a mere memory.

You wondered, “Did you do that?”

“I can’t control your mind, we haven’t learned that yet. You did that yourself.” Yennefer grunted out the last part with a bitter taste in her mouth, realising that with your arrival, she might have to prove herself even harder. You weren't as useless as she deemed you to be when you'd looked halfdead already when Tissaia had carried you in. But she wouldn't let you have the satisfaction, “Be grateful, me coming here finally distracted you from those damned apple tarts of yours.”

Shocked, confused and intrigued all the same, you sat back up, “How did you know that?” You could faintly smell them already even at the mere thought of them.

"Know what?"

"About the apple tarts?"

Yennefer's shoulders tensed in irritation, “It’s something mages can do, transfer thoughts and visions... memories and such. Someone I know showed me that before. But that was by touch... and now I was on the other side of the hallway.” Yennefer let her words carry out in wonder, her voice dying down as the words she spoke found a place in her mind. 

“But how did you know they were mine?”

“Didn't you come here covered in burns? All I saw was fire at first. It made sense.” Yennefer watched intently and saw how her words had struck you harder than she’d meant. But she couldn't let herself feel bad about it, not when you already had one on her without having even attended a single class, “Besides, all of us longed for home the first few weeks we came here. Don’t worry, they’ll chant that out of you, too, together with all you loved and knew of your life before. A puppet for the Brotherhood," Yennefer huffed, her thoughts wandering off, "That was your mother? Humming?”

You locked your jaw and threw off the linen sheets still half draped around your legs, being overcome with heat, hatred, and frustration. All the results of losing control of the situation.

You knew you should tell her to go and take control of the situation before things would go very wrong again. You could push her out if she didn't listen. But the way she'd asked if it had been your mother... well, it had irked something inside of you. So, instead, with a defying grin, you shot back, “You had quite a lot of siblings, a nice family, two loving parents, yes?” You decided to play by her rules and watched the tension in Yennefer’s uneven posture grow. 

“Have.” Was all the lilac-eyed girl declared through gritted teeth.

“But didn't you just say that once you’re brought here, you begin a new life, fully devoted to the Brotherhood?" Yennefer's earlier explanation made it clear that some of the things you'd seen, had belonged to her mind. So, you added, "Or are you truly so keen on going back to the family that had you sleep among the pigs?” You knew it was low, that it went too far, but you could not help yourself. You were hurt, and she had known and made it hurt even worse anyway.

Yennefer took a step forward, hands balled in tight, white-knuckled fists, breaths puffing out of her nose. She hid her surprise and hurt and masked it with anger, as she always did. You were a worthy opponent in this clash, but she knew she had the upper hand after having seen flashes of your life.

“At least I have a family to return to.”

Within an instant, startling even Yennefer who masterfully hid it behind an intrigued glance, you jumped up. Face to face, you could feel Yennefer’s warm breath tickle your skin in intervals, your own fanning that of Yennefer as well. She watched intently, waiting for what would happen next. Letting you make the next move so she would know exactly how to one-up you.

But what had started as eyes reflecting hatred, turned to eyes full of tears soon after. She quickly realised she’d gone too far. She’d brought someone down to the lowest place in existence, a place that wasn't foreign to her, and she hated how the sudden feeling of euphoria and power tapping against her chest had disappeared. The scars on her wrist started to pulse as if they were berating her.

The fire in your eyes and belly had just been lit as if a Witcher had stood behind you and cast Igni over your shoulder. You watched as Yennefer’s eyes softened slightly and a sense of understanding replaced the harshness. You could not watch the change happen for too long, because her face disappeared from your view entirely a second after.

Yennefer’s only instinct was to duck when the shrill sound of glass shattering with high force rang through the room. Shards and glass particles danced around you before falling to the floor in a cacophony of deadly crystal rain. Where other pieces fell idle on the floor, some had thrown themselves into the hardwood floors, sticking out like shiny traps. 

You had ducked down not long after, trying to peek through the arms that had shielded your face from the shards. The floorboards buzzed in the aftermath.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Yennefer yelled above the rain and wind that had finally been welcomed inside, as the piercing cold slapped against your faces. Your panic only intensified when you realised you had been the one behind this blast as you looked down at where you stood, the shards having stopped in a circle around the two of you. There had been no fire for your chaos to latch onto, so it had taken the next best rumbling thing to attract— the storm outside.

Yennefer’s words had caused the implosion inside of you before the explosion currently unwrapping around you had introduced itself. What terrorised your thoughts even more, was the realisation that a slight vortex of wind had started to take shape around the room, slowly collecting whatever stood in it.

The storm had answered your beckoning, but now you kept quiet, so it decided to do its own thing.

“Cut it off!” Yennefer shrieked, her hands flailing around her in the dark before finally coming across one of your wrists. She found the other not long after and used them to harshly yank the two of you fully onto the ground. She squeezed the blood out of your hands, no doubt leaving bruises in the flesh. Then she yanked again, a silent but urgent plea to stop whatever you were doing, and to stop it now.

Instantly, the room went oddly quiet, aside from the occasional object slowly losing its movement and coming to a spinning or falling end. It was as if the world had stopped momentarily, as the howling and clashing of the storm now seemed further away than it ever had before. Another yank on your wrists made you look up into Yennefer’s violet eyes. Your ears popped, and you could breathe again. Sound returned and so did the realisation of the severity of what had just happened. The room was in complete disarray, and, to be fair, so were the two of you. 

“What did you do?” Your lips quivered as your eyes took in the destruction and the broken windows, making it easy for the wind to blow your hair into your faces. Still, you could clearly see the violet eyes of the girl in front of you going wide from the accusation.

“How is this my fault?! What the fuck did you do?” Yennefer ricocheted, panic increasing, “You razed this place!” 

You inched closer, upping the tension between you, and spoke through gritted teeth, “Because you couldn’t leave me alone!” 

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and in walked Tissaia and two other mages, all clearly just woken from their sleep. The two of you turned to the door and you were pretty sure that the women could hear your heartbeat even from their distance.

Tissaia took a step further into the room, examining the damage, cupped her hands in front of her and then inspected the two of you. You pushed yourself back up immediately, but not before sending a nasty glare Yennefer's way. You didn't want to know the amount of trouble she had just gotten you in.

“Can the two of you explain what in the world has happened here and why you are out of bed?” Her stern gaze that spat fire was directed equally between the both of you, and you felt some sense of relief that maybe you wouldn't get all the blame. “Now.” Aretuza’s rectoress spoke slowly, intensifying her stare to make the severity known, if the state of the room hadn’t already done so. 

Yennefer stumbled up, locking her jaw and grinding her teeth together. Neither of you said a word.

“Very well. My office.” Tissaia turned around, exchanged a look with the two mages who no doubt were having to stay up to fix the room, and disappeared into the hallway, expecting the two of you to follow her.

“Now you’ve done it.” You huffed and left the room, leaving Yennefer to mutter something under her breath before eventually following, too. 

Tissaia was already sitting behind her desk when you arrived and motioned to the vacant seats by dipping her head. Yennefer rolled her eyes and stayed back as she watched you sit down without a protest. Tissaia’s eyes now went to Yennefer,

“Sit or I will make you wish you’d sat on your own accord, piglet.”

Begrudgingly, Yennefer stumbled forward, hating how her uneven posture made her feel small and frail instead of powerful and confident as she sat down.

“Talk.” She directed her venom towards Yennefer first, but the girl shrugged,

“You should really replace the windows of this damned place more often, they’re not prone to this kind of storm, as it seems.” 

“They’re protected by Aretuza’s chaos, they’re indestructable. Would you be so kind to tell me how two young mages were able to break a Brotherhood barrier or should we start by why you were not in your own room after curfew?” Still, her stare and harsh words were directed towards Yennefer, who was beginning to find the entire situation all too unfair. 

“I don’t know who she is, but clearly it was a misjudgement to take her in. Her control over her chaos is utter shit.” Yennefer started, nudging her head to the left, not sparing you a glance, too frustrated with the situation you’d gotten her in by almost blowing up the place.

“What were you doing in her room?” Tissaia repeated herself, growing impatient at Yennefer’s choice of words.

Yennefer didn't say a word, not wanting to admit to Tissaia that you had already managed to link minds with someone on your first day. Perhaps this was just a fluke, a one time thing. She would not bury her own grave by giving you indirect praise.

"Y/N?"

Your face was set in stone, but Tissaia's glare made you crack, "She came into my room and wouldn't leave."

“And?"

Now Yennefer sat up, "And she tore the place apart, that's it."

"There will be no pointing fingers until I know what happened exactly.”

“I don’t know what happened,” You spoke truthfully, “I felt restless, kept seeing things that had never been seen by my own eyes each time I closed them.”

Yennefer sank into the chair— great.

Tissaia’s face changed at this information, but she kept silent.

“I had lost control again before I realised it was slipping out of my grasp and everything happened all at once. Yennefer found me like that. That is all. Then I wanted her to leave, but she wouldn't.”

Yennefer’s head whipped to the side, her big eyes narrowing and her brows starting to furrow. What were you doing?

Tissaia wrapped her hands together and rested her chin atop of them, staring in a way that made you feel as if she could see right through you. For all you knew, she could, but you desperately hoped that wasn’t a thing mages could do and that it was limited to smells or visions of apple tarts.  

It was an awkward couple of seconds as Tissaia kept staring. At last, she sighed and sat back in her chair, tapping a soft rhythm on the armrests as her gaze shifted between the two of you.

“You will spend each afternoon after class in this office and you won’t leave until you’ve succeeded the task I’ve given you. Starting right now.” Tissaia lifted up her finger to signal silence before Yennefer could butt in. Then, she shoved a golden tray across the desk. On it— a vase with one single flower, a blushing pink carnation, and next to it, an empty glass, “You will both transfer the water from the vase into the glass. I want no droplet left in the currently filled vase when you’re done. And if the glass shatters or the flower dies, you will reverse those mistakes as well. Understood?”

Yennefer sank down in her seat. This was advanced stuff considering she had only started at Aretuza a few weeks ago, and her levitation work was abysmal as well, to say the least.

“But I’ve just come here, I don’t know any-” You swallowed down your words at the look Tissaia gave you, the concern of blowing up not only a simple vase but Tissaia’s entire office lost into the background.

“Use your chaos.” She spoke each word with fervor as she looked at you both, as if to convey an ulterior message. One unknown to you, for now. “Control it. Bend it to your will. Direct it, don’t be directed. Learn from each other. But keep it bottled. Always. This world is in balance because all of our chaos is bottled, it is guarded, it is dealt with delicately. And you will now learn to do so, as well.” 

She looked at you, then at Yennefer, and she watched your focus shift to the tray in front of you, where the sound of water being poured into a glass appeared. Then, Tissaia stood up and, before she left the room, put out the fireplace. She gave you a sharp look, and you know she'd done it because of you. Her footsteps dissipated in a slow fading echo and the two of you sat in silence for a beat. 

Yennefer turned in her seat, confused, and watched as you stared at the carnation.

“Why did you do that?”

“You shouldn't have been in my room, but I was the one who got you in trouble, ultimately.”

"Oh- fuck off," Yennefer rolled her eyes at your chivalry, sensing you were one of those morally good people. The kind of people that wouldn't survive this type of world, but she knew you'd learn soon enough. "Did you forget the part I badmouthed your dead family?"

Your hands clenched, but you willed yourself to keep in control, "I said some unnecessarily mean stuff myself, do you remember?"

"So what? You want to be my friend now?"

"If this is you as a friend, then yeah, because I don't want you as an enemy, coming into my room at night for hell knows what." You bit back but with a slight air of lightheartedness.

Yennefer chuckled dryly and shook her head, “As if I should believe you after what went on between us. Barely even a day here and you're already acting like all the others— sucking up to Tissaia and upholding the peaceful act that we should all be friends.”

You turned in your seat, “You're doing a terrible job of hiding your jealousy."

"You fucking wish."

"Well, what is it, then? Because even if I haven't been here for long, I already know you’re sticking out like a sore thumb among the others-” You saw the split second of hurt on Yennefer’s face as she thought her looks were alluded to, “-by sticking your nose where you shouldn’t.”

“Ah, you seem to know me so well after we’ve only- what? Met twice? Tell me then, why do you think I hate this place?”

“I think you hate it because you don't fit in, and that terrifies you, because you've never fit in anywhere."

Yennefer finally turned quiet. You knew you had hit the nail on its head even before the words had left your mouth. It was too obvious, the insecurity practically painted onto her forehead.

Yennefer stared at the flower that seemed to mock her mood with all its glory. She’d been here for weeks now, and each day, she’d wanted to go back home. Sure, it had been exhilarating to find out she had chaos inside of her, but what good was it if she couldn’t even lift a stupid little pebble? Her conduit moment had forced her into this life, and she hated the lack of choice, yet, she didn’t want to go back to her old life either, to being unwanted and treated worse than the cattle she'd had to sleep next to. But this place… it had brought out the worst in her. Frustration, unhealthy competitiveness, resentment, envy, insecurity, hatred. It had even turned into an attempt to end her life during the first night. Perhaps she had been a little too harsh on you after all. Instead of crying yourself to sleep, you were stuck here with the crazed hunchback you no doubt thought she was. How else could you? Yennefer could feel the way people stared at her, and while it had been awful in her old life, those stares had turned unbearable here. She felt like the ugly goose in a lake full of swans. She was the ugly goose. And if she hadn’t been so self-aware, she would have still known she was by the number of times she’d been called names back home in her village.

But you… you were one of the swans. Perhaps the brightest and most promising of the bunch even when she first saw you filled in muck and burns. Maybe exactly because of that. It showed a conduit moment far greater than freezing a cat or making your mother fat. And if she needed proof, it had been shown to her on a silver platter just now, as the chamber had fallen victim to hazardous destruction by your doing. It was unfair. Powerful and pretty shouldn’t be allowed to coerce together. One could not have the best of both platters, but Yennefer knew that in this environment, that was exactly what was wanted. Being powerful earned respect…fear... but being pretty meant that people would hang onto your every word, would agree with everything you said and would move mountains for you, no questions asked. And, it didn't hurt to get some good attention for a chance. One day, Yennefer knew she would get that chance. But being powerful… well, no ascension could change her chaos. Not really. And the only way she could ascend and become beautiful, was if she was skilled and powerful enough to earn it. No court would want an ugly mage, but a pretty mage lacking the powers a sorceress needed to possess was useless to them, too. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it had been people like you who’d put her there. People who'd had it all from the beginning, and then whined because they thought they had it worse. Still, she couldn’t help but spark a tiny flicker of intrigue towards you. She was certain you held more magical capabilities with no knowledge of the entire chaos ladder than Sabrina held after months of practice and studies. 

“How did you do that, back there, in the room?” She wondered after a while, brushing off how she'd left you hanging on your clever observation.

“You say it in such a tone that makes me think I should be proud of it.”

“Because you should.”

“No, I should not, if you hadn’t pulled me out of it, I would’ve likely taken the entire tower down with us.”

Yennefer licked her lips, “So, what I’m hearing there is an unspoken thank you for not making you a mass murderer.”

Your heart clenched at the awful irony in that, but then you saw the tiniest pull of Yennefer’s lips turn them into a small smile. 

Quietly, and feeling defeated as you looked at the golden tray on Tissaia’s desk, you muttered, “It all wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t said those things.”

Yennefer’s trying smile disappeared soon enough, her eyes inspecting the tray as well, “Perhaps.”

“If you try a little harder, it could almost start to sound like an apology.” You quipped back, not missing the fact the girl had at least shown the slightest hint of remorse. Still, her words had hurt, and your heart was still breaking each moment your mind went back to the family you no longer had.

Yennefer shrugged absentmindedly, still in deep thought.

“Well, it’s a very timid one then. You should work on that.”

“What we should really work on is Tissaia’s task. I’ve only just touched upon levitation work, water bending is something else entirely.”

“I’m afraid that tonight I’ll ruin not only my chamber, but this office as well.”

Yennefer watched you shift in your seat uncomfortably, staring at the never-ending rain tapping against the window. Then she huffed out a chuckle, liking the dry sense of humour that had slipped past your lips, even if you didn't seem to be aware of it. Maybe especially because of that reason.

“Tissaia said that a healthy balance is needed. Power must come from something, a sacrifice has to be made.” Her voice lulled you out of your worries.

You thought about it, “The water is practically already there, so that means-”

Yennefer nodded, “-we can use that very same water as a balancing factor while we transfer. It’s already there, there’s no conjuring it. Making sure our chaos is trapped within that water and stays there at all times and doesn’t bounce off, is key.”

“You know a lot.”

Yennefer made a face, “These are the basics that get repeated to us each and every hour. It’s simple.”

“The existence of chaos doesn’t sound so simple. Two days ago I didn’t even know what it meant. I still don’t.”

“Yet you throw it around without care.” Yennefer rolled her eyes, not liking how you sounded just like Fringilla who always acted like she had no clue, but then succeeded within the first attempt. “Maybe you should sit this one out before we go blind by the shards of glass flying into our eyes.”

“She said the both of us.”

“Right, I forgot you were her little lapdog.” Yennefer stood to pick up the vase and inspected it. She pulled the flower out and watched the water dance inside as she swirled it around. 

“A carnation,” You noted, continuing as Yennefer turned to you, “You know each colour holds a different meaning? The pink ones have a motherly kind of-”

“I don’t care.” Yennefer huffed in frustration and dipped the flower back into the vase, not having the faintest idea how to get the task done, but she’d felt the rejection in the soft sigh sounding from behind her, “Unless that information will help us out.”

Dejected, you stood up and looked around the office— there were bookcases filled to the brim with books that, no doubt, held a lot of knowledge of chaos and powers; trinkets lined the wooden surfaces above a large chest that looked macabre yet intriguing, pots of plants you didn't want to touch were lined up atop the windowsills, cabinets filled with vails and jars of what you assumed were different kind of herbs, all kinds of different shaped, sized, textured and coloured stones were sprawled out in an organised mess on a table in the corner and finally, the most normal thing in the entire room— a globe of the Continent.

The large bell coming from the tower suddenly broke the silence, ringing thrice to signal the hour of the night. 

“Maybe we can find something in these books?” Yennefer followed your actions and she started to let her eyes roam across the bindings to find anything that sounded familiar enough to help. You felt your attention get tugged to the far right, to a row just above your eyesight.

Giambattista's Forces of Elements. 

You pulled out the book and read the index, eyes then quickly falling onto the last of the long row of chapters.

Fire Magic and its Dangers.

“What’s that you got there? Elemental Magic?” Yennefer hummed, pulling the book out of your hands and skimming through it, “How to change the weather… how to manipulate the earth… how to… water, water-” She mumbled to herself, “Fire magic?”

Your head leapt up in curiosity, “What does it say?”

Yennefer looked at you, but as soon as she saw the word forbidden in the same sentence, she, too, became intrigued,

“Within the bounds of the usage of chaos, fire magic is strictly forbidden because of its destructive nature and the corrupting effects it has on those who use it. It often leads to dangerous consequences that can cause permanent corruption of one’s chaos and mind and often leads to death. It is the only type of magic that can both destroy and consume and asks the user to tap into the negativity stored inside, making it tempting for one’s chaos to lose control-” She stopped to look at you, but you ushered her to go on,

“The usage of fire magic often comes with a heavy price, for with this kind of chaos, the sacrifice is far greater than the result.”

“Chaos comes at a cost.” You nodded, having learned that the hard way.

“Starting to learn already,” Yennefer mumbled absentmindedly before skimming further through the book, “Here- Standard Practices of Bending Water. To bend water to their will, one must first focus on the balance to keep their chaos strapped within bounds before continuing to ground one’s existing being to find the balance around them. A strong mind and solid and rested soul are the key to directing an elemental force that can both bend, mend, block and destroy. As water isn’t afraid to burn in fire, fade into the sky, drown into the dark shroud of the earth or shatter against sharp rocks in rainfall, it is the most versatile element there is. It can dissolve into different kind of shapes depending on the mage’s needs. Water is both our up and down and can be found both above us in the sky or below us in the earth and is therefore the easiest found elemental balance, but not the easiest used. Great-” Yennefer muttered before continuing, “Because of its many states and forms, it is hard to use chaos to bend water to your liking. Young mages might find chewing or burning dried mint or lemon skin beneficial to hone this skill, as those are known to have natural properties that can help remove impurities from water, removing any contrarian factors and thus making the transition to use one’s chaos to bend this element easier." Yennefer clapped the book closed, "Well, that was a load of bull.” 

“It didn’t say anything about transferring water?”

“Nothing about incantation either.”

“There are incantations you can use?”

“Another thing learned,” Yennefer sighed out uninterestingly.

Your eyes examined all the books in front of you, “You know, kindness would suit you."

“Like that’s ever gotten anyone anywhere in this world.”

“Wow, someone must have really hurt you for you to be this bitter.” You huffed, done being kind, proving Yennefer’s point, and walked to Tissaia’s cabinet full of herbs. You read all the labels on the pots, which were thankfully placed in alphabetic order, “Here, mint leaves.” 

Yennefer put one in her mouth, started to chew, and grabbed the vase with water in one hand, the empty glass in the other.

“The book said to ground yourself first.”

“I am grounded.” Yennefer snapped sharply.

“I can see that.” You shot back.

Yennefer felt the inside of her mouth tingle from the mint and tried to focus on the water. If she could just make a ripple, anything, to show she could move the water, she’d feel a lot better.

“Maybe try removing the flower. It might interfere since it’s a living thing and could use the water as power to stay alive?”

Actually, Yennefer thought, that wasn’t such a daft comment, but fuck did she hate how you had been the one to make it. She watched as you plucked the carnation out of the tiny vase, twirling it in your fingers. 

“Or, maybe, you could use the flower, too? Since it holds chaos, right?” 

Once again, Yennefer hated how sharp your observation was. Tissaia had said to use whatever was at hand to provide the balance they needed, and you had heeded her advice. She looked at the flower dangling in front of her, stared at you before whisking it out of your hands and setting her teeth into a few petals. They didn’t taste nearly as good as they smelt, but that was of no importance to her now. 

"What are you doing?!" You couldn't help but ask, finding it incredulous. But Yennefer ignored you, liking how she knew what she was doing this time, and you had no clue. It let her ease up a bit again. She'd had hours of lessons, you hadn't.

“If this all doesn’t work, we could just pour the water from one glass to the other,” Yennefer sighed, surprised that you let out an honest laugh.

“I don’t think she is one to fall for such tricks. Suppose she wants to see us do it.”

“Right,” Yennefer muttered, licked her lips, rolled her neck and clenched her jaw shut again, severely focusing on the water. Seconds passed. A minute. Then two. Nothing happened. She was feeling the exhaustion from the lack of sleep now, and her mind was still a little fuzzy from the class experiment. Yennefer started to shake and you reached out to stop her trembling hands, “Maybe you should-”

“-maybe you should shut up and let me do it!” 

A cold splash hit both your hands as the water from the vase got blasted out. She looked at the water soaking up the floorboards, then at you.

“At least it’s out of the vase…” 

Yennefer glared at you, “I almost had it! I could feel it start to move!” 

“Sure, it just went the wrong way. It really looked like you knew what you were doing." You were starting to grow sick of how she kept snapping at you, "Look, we can just try again. There’s a pitcher over there."

You refilled it for her, “Go.”

Yennefer stared at you, at the way your brows were furrowed at her in slight annoyance... but also in slight intrigue, as if you were desperately waiting to see what Yennefer could bring forth.

Yennefer bit off another petal and chewed, starting all over, but with more confidence this time. She looked to her left again, right into your eyes and felt she could take a deeper, more grounded breath this time as it travelled all the way to her lower abdomen. Her fingers tingled, her chest warmed up, then her neck, then her arms and ultimately, her hands. The water started to bubble, splutter and dance against the edges of the vase as if Yennefer was tumbling the vase around, but her hands were frozen in place. You leaned in, amazed, this being the first time you'd seen the good kind of chaos. Yennefer closed her eyes, her ears ringing and her heartbeat now loudly pulsing inside her head. Her chaos was speaking to her. It was making itself known, just not loud enough yet for her to answer. 

Tissaia approached the room, surprised by the silence. In her line of work, that never really meant good news. She made sure to take each step with great care to not announce her approaching presence. Once at the door, she peeked through the gap and watched. The two girls looked to be in great concentration. Tissaia noticed the opened book, the pot of herbs and the half-chewed-up flower lying dormant on her desk. She could feel the girl’s exhaustion from their previous endeavour, and their chaos hadn’t been spared by trying to get this task completed either.

“Watch your breathing, the water stops when you stop,”

She could hear your muffled voice and watched as Yennefer only nodded and made work of the advice instead of snarking back a reply. The sound of tiny singular drops falling into the empty glass filled the room, but from Tissaia’s spot in the hallway, the only proof that something seemed to be happening, was the gasp that Yennefer released.

Smiling softly to herself, Tissaia took a deep breath and opened the door, catching the two of you by surprise. She made a point to look at the items you had gotten by going through her stuff, without permission, then eyed the glass. 

“It’s been a long night, perhaps tomorrow, after some hours of sleep, you’ll be able to transfer more than just a few teardrops.” She took place in front of her desk and leaned against it, watching as you stared at her, still bewildered, “Go now, off to bed. I want to see the two of you here tomorrow.”

“My room-”

“Is back to its original state. I suggest you keep it that way.” 

You sauntered off, but before Yennefer could exit too, Tissaia held her back by her arm. She intently stared at the mage’s violet eyes, looking for something behind them, then let go. Tissaia turned around and watched the two of you disappear, knowing something had been set in motion.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

-𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘀

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

[ramen-flavored]

Damn, I wish they didn’t leave the season 3 finale on a cliff hanger like that. What a shame there won’t be a fourth season.

[redskull199987]

Of Thoughts and Actions

Jaskier x fem!reader  word count:0.9k Warnings:spoilers for season 3, apart from that just fluff Summary: You didn't see your friend Jaskier for a long time, since he split up from your group after the events at Kaer Morhen. So, when Geralt suggested that you ask the bard for help, you were more than happy to see your singing friend again… Masterlist

You watched the scene in front of you unfold with a smile on your face. Jaskier´s sweet voice was slowly lulling Ciri to sleep, after you had spent the evening playing cards against each other. Jaskier, of course, had lost all of his money to the young girl. Finally seeing her smiling again, having fun again, after all she's been through lately, made you feel like it was still worth fighting for. For Ciri, and her future. “What are you thinking about?”

Your head shot up, as Jaskier suddenly stood in front of you, his slender frame towering above you. “Just thinking about our journey so far”, You mumbled, as you slowly stood up, starting to gather the plates at cups from the small table you had been playing cards at, until a few minutes ago. “Anything in particular?”, Jaskier smiled, as he helped you clean up, picking up a plate. “Oh, maybe the one time, Geralt and I saved your ass?”, you chuckled, playfully hitting his arm. Jaskier mockingly opened his mouth, acting like he was utterly shocked by your words.

“Fine then”, he mumbled, stepping closer to me,”Remember when I taught you how to dance, that one particular evening where you had too much ale?”

You felt your cheeks redden, as you remembered how much of a fool you had made yourself. even Geralt had laughed at your sloppy dance moves, and Geralt never laughed, ever.

Jaskier had seemed to notice your discomfort and slowly stepped closer. He looked down at you for a second, before carefully grabbing your hands. “You know, I always thought you were the most beautiful Dancer, I had ever seen in my life.”, he smiled, causing you to blush even more. Since when were you so easily flushed? You were a great fighter, that had been through many battles along with your companions. But  now you were a blushing mess in front of the smiling bard. When you didn't say anything in return, Jaskier just continued to recount the story:”Not because you were the best at dancing or the most experienced, but because you enjoyed yourself. You were having fun to no end, just being yourself. That's what I´ve always loved about you, Y/N.” You were speechless at this point. You always knew that what you felt for Jaskier was different than what you felt for Yennefer or Geralt. It was more than friendship. But you never believed that he was feeling the same way, in fact you still didn't believe it. 

Against all your better judgement, you slowly pulled your hands away from Jaskier and excused yourself, saying that you needed some fresh air. And within seconds, you had left the small hut, stepping out into the night. 

Taking in a deep breath, you looked up admiring the stars that glistened in the sky. Upon seeing your breath come out in small huffs, you realised how cold it was. You slowly started walking around a bit to conjure some warmth, but it had no effort. After two laps around the hutt, you were still shivering. You debated going back inside for a second, but you didn't quite know if you were ready to talk to Jaskier again. 

The decision was made for you, as you felt how Jaskier´s coat was being wrapped around you. The purple material easily engulfed your form, preventing you from shivering. You turned your head to see said bard standing behind you, one of his hands was resting on the small of your back, as he wrapped the coat further around your form. “Thank you.”, you mumbled, looking back down. “You seemed cold”, he smiled, now stepping in front of you. His hands came up to adjust the collar around you. You felt his touch linger, as his bright eyes shifted towards your face. “Y/N”, he suddenly said. His hand rose to gently caress your cheek. Slowly leaning into his touch, you listened to his shallow breathing to calm yourself down.

“Jaskier.”, you finally said, looking up at him. He only sighed, seemingly not really knowing what to say:”I-I havent been honest with you,Y/N” “About what?”, you uttered quietly. He didn't say anything for a second, just staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I really want to kiss you.”, he suddenly blurted out. You only smiled at him:”then do it.”

It only took Jaskier mere seconds to press his lips to yours. You felt his hands pulling you closer by the waist, as he deepened the kiss, his lips softly working against yours. Only as you parted, you actually realised what had just happened. Yours eyes widened, as you looked at his dreamy face. “I've wanted to do that for ages”, he admitted. A smile crossed your lips at his words:”I´m glad that you finally did.” “Oh I could kiss you again a thousand times, my love”, he chuckled, slightly squeezing your waist. “I wouldn't have a problem with that”, you whispered, before connecting your lips with his once more. Bonus: Ciri´s eyes slowly fluttered open, as the soft sunlight hit her face. Upon sitting up in her bed, she started to look around the room in search for her two friends. She expected them to be in their separate beds, still sleeping but Ciri couldn't help but to smile at what she saw in front of her. Right there, just a few metres away from her, you and Jaskier were huddled up together in the tiny bed. She could barely see your smaller form, as Jaskier was laying on top of you, his head resting on your chest. “I knew it”, she mumbled to herself, before slowly getting up to get ready for the day.

[the-doctor-3000]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 {The Witcher x F!Reader}

1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (pt. 1)

The chirping of birds woke the nineteen-year-old y/n up. She cracked her eyes open, having a difficulty to do so due to the light of the sun, and found herself laying in a forest. She sat up slowly, clenching the pendant that was hanging around her neck tightly and looked around in sheer confusion.

How did she even end up here? She was on a mission with her siblings. Knowing that it didn't include the woods. She quickly searched around for her stuff. She had her seraph blade, her stele was on her jacket's pocket along with a sensor and her witchlight stone. She stood up on her feet with a small stumble and continued to look at her surroundings confused. 

The air was clearer, deprived of pollution. It was nice but scary too.

Where was she? Had she been teleported there and how?

Not expecting to get any answers from just standing there and staring, she walked her way out of the forest. Or at least tried to. No sign of a city but a small village. Too medieval-like for her own liking.

Hopefully the mundanes were just filming a movie with that theme. As she approached, her nostrils picked up some unpleasant smells which caused her to gag in disgust. 

It smelled worse than a farm or litter boxes. She had been to villages before but none of them smelled like that.

She went pass a few locals, all of them dressed in medieval styled peasant clothing, and some gave her some odd looks while others minded their own business. Y/n's brows furrowed. She looked around, expecting to see some cameramen filming the entire thing or the staff.

She saw none.

What she did see was a cart, drawn by two piebald mares. She tilted her head to the side as she cautiously followed and examined the people on it. 

Three. The driver. Nothing too unusual for the theme of the movie - if it was a movie; he was wearing sheepskin over his bare skin and his hair reached his brows. Next to him sat another man; that one was slim, he was wearing a fancy bonnet with a heron's feather decorating it. She noticed that he was holding a lute. A troubadour, she mentally noted. 

Her eyes trailed to the man next to him. He was skinny, unhealthy pale and had milky loose hair. What she could make of his appearance from the far back was that he was a warrior of sorts.

She didn't know what but there was something about that man that piqued her interest. If her brothers were there they would be able to restrain her from going off to satisfy her curiosity. Her sister, though, would go along with her.

The white haired male spoke to the driver and he brought the horses to a halt. Y/n didn't know why but she felt like the white haired man could tell that she was following them.

Her suspicion was confirmed as he jumped out of the cart, daggers on each side and a steel sword on the back, and approached her. 

She came to a halt as she gasped instinctively. His face. She had seen worse but there was something unsettling about him. His eyes were frightening and cat-like and there was something about him. . . Cold and threatening. 

Her fingers tried to reach for her blades but he spoke. "Why are you following us?"

His voice was just as unsettling as the rest of his appearance. It was very unpleasant and hoarse. Y/n never had encountered anyone like him. She had seen things and yet this man made her feel afraid.

Why? She had killed demons, a man with a disturbing appearance should be nothing compared to her previous encounters. 

He asked her again. More demanding but still calm. "Well?"

She flinched but finally found her voice. "I am sorry." She apologised and thought that the truth would be the best answer. "I am new around. . . . here and you three looked like an interesting bunch. Would it, ah, be alright to tag along until I find a way back?"

He seemed to think about it. His inhuman eyes stared into hers as if he were examining her. "Where are you from?"

"Manhattan, New York."

He arched a white brow. "Come again? Is this a new kind of joke?"

"Why would---? Listen, if you don't know where it is then just say so." She said, irritation building its way to her chest. "Don't have to act as if it doesn't exist."

"That's because it doesn't. Never heard of such place."

The seriousness in his tone made it difficult for y/n to tell whether he was messing with her or not. She crossed her arms over her torso, trying to keep a straight face and mask her worry. "Then where exactly am I?"

"Near Lower Posada, Dol Blathanna."

She barked a laugh. "Okay okay! That's creative but, for real, where am I?"

"Do I look like someone who is joking?"

Her hair went up like wires and a chill went down her spine. She croaked nervously, "Probably not."

There was a long silence between. The man's travelling companions were observing this interraction from afar, seeming quite interested to see how this would evolve. The bard was the most intrigued by it out of the two. Y/n avoided making eye contact with the man standing in front of her, her gaze was fixated on the medallion around his neck. It was made out of silver and had the shape of a wolf's head. 

The longer she thought about it the more scared she became that maybe she was indeed in another universe and/or time period. Everything looked far too real, they smelled like it too, to be just a film production and the actors decided to mess with her. 

Then it hit her. How could he, a mundane, see her? The glamour should have made it impossible unless, of course, he wasn't human himself but he didn't look like any of the Downworlders she had known of. The only distinct feature about him which only fit the warlocks' was his eyes, which were cat-like, but she could tell that he wasn't one. Mostly due to the fact that he was carrying weapons and, as far as she knew, warlocks needn't any of those. Not when they had their magic.

She gathered up some courage and spoke, "Do you---" She cut herself, thinking carefully of her next words and tried to make eye contact without flinching. Her mother and father always told her to stare someone in the eyes when speaking or else it would make her seem like a fool. "Is it alright to stay with you until I figure a way to return to my home? I promise that I won't get in the way of whatever it is that you are doing."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And what is that you think I'm doing?"

Y/n shrugged. "Don't know and don't care. It's not my business either way as long as you don't cause any trouble that is."

"Hm."

He just hummed. No comment or any reply, just a hum. Y/n didn't know what to make of that guy but she followed him when he nodded for her to do so. They went to the cart and there was yet again an uneasy silence.

"I'm y/n Lightwood, by the way." She introduced herself to him, with a smile, hoping to at least learn his name. When he didn't respond, she quickly added. "Sorry if I crossed over any boundaries. It's just that people usually tell their names when they make an acquaintance." No response still. "So, ah, what's your name?"

"Geralt of Rivia."

"Geralt of Rivia." She tested his name, mispronouncing it completely, sounding like 'Jerald'. She noticed from the corner of her eye, his scarred eye twitching a little. 

At least she got a reaction.

Not wanting to make things worse, she decided not to speak any further. When they reached the cart, the troubadour was the first one to acknowledge her. 

"Ah! And who is your feminine friend, Geralt?" The bard asked, his cornflower blue eyes though were fixated on her.

He seemed pleasant, he looked like it too. His attitude so far was also friendly. She gave him a small smile, "I'm y/n. Y/n Lightwood."

As Geralt climbed on the cart, the bard hopped out. He took her hand and gingerly planted a kiss on the back of. "Charmed. I am Master Dandilion! A poet, a minstrel and a bard."

She chuckled, her cheeks flushing red a little. "Yeah, I got that. The lute gave it away."

"Would you be interested in hearing one of my ballads, my fair lady?"

An exasperated groan came from Geralt. Y/n was yet again curious but also bored.

"Music is the perfect way to pass the time while driving, so yeah!" She said with a warm smile gracing her features.

Dandilion beamed with joy.

She climbed the cart, Dandilion followed, and she was inbetween him and Geralt. The driver did not question her and continued. Y/n continued paying attention to Dandilion, too scared or uncomfortable to look at Geralt.

Disclaimer: I don't own the The Witcher nor the pictures/gifs, all credit goes to the original creators. This is a crossover between the Witcher and the Shadowhunter Chronicles. This will be based on the books and *not* the Netflix series and the story will be according to the books (though I'll add some scenes of my own and/or change some things in order for the mc to fit in the story).

This fanfiction will be also published on quotev.

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Fates Divine: Where it All Begins (Yennefer of Vengerberg x Reader)

Summary: What if Yennefer’s destiny wasn’t entwined with Geralt’s? What if another fate awaited her? And where does Princess Cirilla play into all this?

Words: 1183

Warnings: Witcher violence, AU (kinda?), language

A/N: This is the start of a new series I’m working on. The prologue of it, if you will. It will get longer from here but I thought a set up was in order.

If you want to be on this taglist, lemme know.

Series Masterlist

-X-

Gold eyes.

Unnerving, glistening, narrowed eyes were the first things Yennefer saw as she awoke with a start, clutching her aching breast with nimble, scab-ridden fingers. Tucked onto a hillside, shaded by the coloring leaves and away from the harsh view of both man and animal, there was nothing but stillness surrounding her.

“Witch,” you greeted gruffly, gaze flickering to her heaving, barely-covered chest before lifting upward again. “Glad to see you lived. That katakan nearly made you his next meal. Maybe don’t travel Oxenfurt or its roads at night for a while. Could still be plenty of the bastards roaming about.”

Yennefer blinked in surprise, back straightening as she finally took in the full sight of you. Bearing the obvious signs of a Witcher – stark white hair and cat-like eyes that sent most mortals reeling backwards – and the scars that tended to adorn your people, you weren’t quite what she’d imagined after hearing of a Witcher skulking about. The cocky twist of your smirk and the way your golden gaze lightened as she gaped left you almost youthful in appearance.

As though you hadn’t battled a thousand monsters; hadn’t saved a thousand souls (for coin, of course).

“Do you speak, witch?” you teased, biting the apple in your hand playfully. “Or did those fancy mages steal your manners in that big ole tower of yours?”

Yennefer glared, offended at such an implication, and it sent you into a fit of laughter. The apple in your grasp shifted, nearly crushed beneath the weight of your grip, so you simply tossed it to your lazing mare while you tried to calm your mirth.

“That is quite a rude assumption, you white-haired brute,” she scolded, though it held little fire as your amusement bled into her. “I was simply surprised to awake to such an…”

“Freak of nature? Mutant? Monster?”

She winced as your merriment drifted away with the flicker of flames, leaving behind what she’d come to expect from Witcher tales. The broody, cold demeanor and stoic expression – the face of a monster slayer bought entirely by the gold tucked in someone’s breeches.

“Well, you’re welcome. Consider this my one good deed for the year,” you huffed. “You can stay until daybreak. Wouldn’t want to have to save your ass twice in one night. Plus the blood from your oozing wound will only attract more trouble than its worth. Might even bring me the monster I was paid to vanquish.”

Yennefer’s brow furrowed. “I was not going to call you any of those names, Witcher. You are just an unfamiliar face to me. Though I can see why you would assume such hatefulness. I doubt the kind people of Oxenfurt have shown you much hospitality.”

“Humans,” you grunted disdainfully, gaze meeting the witch’s. “They fear the things they cannot possibly match up with.”

“I am Yennefer of Vengerberg. I believe I should thank you for saving my life.” She smiled softly at you, staring deep into your soul as thoughts swirled about your convoluted mind. She could see the obvious attraction, feel it buzzing across her skin the way it skirted about your own. Flashes of your rescue and subsequent healing flickered into view, the way your diligent fingers caressed her mangled flesh as you helped bind the weeping gashes.

You were certainly an interesting creature.

“(Y/N)… of Vizima.”

The hesitation was not missed but she did not dare to voice it.

“Well, it is lucky to have such a dashing savior,” Yennefer smiled shyly, deceptively innocent despite the things she’d been a part of, but you could see through it with ease. This woman was dangerous but you didn’t mind. Not really. “Though, I wonder. Could you help me with another task? With coin, of course.”

You thrived in danger.

“What do you need?” you murmured, the protective clothes you bore becoming uncomfortably sticky from perspiration, nerves alight from whatever this woman was doing to your sensibilities.

It was strange, to be so intimidated by someone so lithe and beautiful. You’d bedded plenty of elven women and humans alike, but this one witch…

“I’m in need of werewolf saliva. For a talisman. But few merchants stock such a rare item and who better to help me find it than a Witcher?”

Batting her eyes, she watched as your resolve crumbled slightly. The promise of coin was temptation enough but knowing this capable but injured witch would be searching for werewolves left you conflicted. If you were dumb enough to say no, then she could easily die.

And the world would be far uglier without her.

“You are planning to search for them whether I agree or not, aren’t you?” you inquired knowingly, chuckling at the mischievous uptick painting Yennefer’s lips.

“Is my coin good enough?” she asked in response, brushing past your question as though it’d never been spoken.

Smirking, you nodded. “All coin is good coin. We will begin our hunt at dawn. I’ve heard whispers of a town being plagued by the hairy beasts. We may start there.” Your gaze dropped to her bandaged chest, brows furrowing thoughtfully. “May need to clean your chest again. All types of nasty illnesses cling to vampires and the like.”

She ran her slender fingers along the parted neck of her dress, garnering your intense attention to the unmarked flesh glistening in the firelight, the tips of her digits grazing the pinking cloth.

“I have a few potions in my bag for such occasions. I am mostly aghast and embarrassed a vampire got the upper hand. You must think me a novice to earn such grave injuries.”

Leaning forward slightly, you caught her eye and shook your head. “I’ve been to every corner of this continent. Met creatures that nearly took my head from its place on my shoulders. I’ve seen novices and masters both killed without a thought. But you, Yennefer of Vengerberg, feel… powerful. As though I dare not underestimate what you could do in a moment’s time. I don’t know you, but I… feel you.”

Yennefer blinked slowly, taken aback by your confession and truthfully, you had no idea why those words befell your lips but there was no taking them back. You would not make yourself a liar.

“Let us sleep,” she whispered breathlessly. “I doubt this will be an easy task and at least one of us should be fully rested and healthy.”

Nodding, you glanced at your bedroll before peering behind Yennefer with a frown.

“Take my roll,” you offered as you stood, though it sounded more of a command. “You do not wish to agitate your wounds more than they already are.”

Lips parting, prepared to argue, Yennefer paused at the stern determination staring back at her. Handing her the blanket sitting atop your haphazardly crafted bed, you gestured at the bedroll before settling against the toppled log near the top of the roll. Arms crossed, your eyes closed and head lolled backwards as you listened.

“Damn Witcher,” she mumbled, crawling into the bedroll and tucking the warm, albeit worn, blanket around her shivering form. “Happy now?”

“Thrilled.”

[whitewingsh]

Just giving y'all green lights and say there is audience for The Witcher content

*wink wink* if yk what I mean

[sayafics]

Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter III

I apologise for the very long wait for this chapter, in all honesty I had no idea how to move forward from Chapter II but this felt right, and it felt true to the relationship between existing characters, to an extent.

Geralt is tied to these two women in two distinctly different ways, and it's only now that he has all the information, he can make the decision he needs to. But that doesn't come without its consequences, which subsequently leads to other consequences.

I apologise again for the long wait, and hope to update with another chapter soon! I truly hope you guys enjoy this chapter! <333

TW: (slight?) angst

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

Andromeda had thought they had come to an understanding. She had fallen asleep with a smile on her face and hope in her heart.

She dreamed of waking up to the sun heating her face as it slowly rose, opening her eyes to ashes of a well-worn fire as a gentle breeze brushed through her hair before her gaze met Geralt's.

She thought they would've exchanged gentle smiles, would've looked for excuses throughout the day to brush past each other, and engaged in small conversations hidden from the sight of others. And then, maybe when they had gotten too distracted or brushed too close to death on one adventure or the next, they would've exchanged a kiss. A small, hesitant kiss that they poured all their emotions into, where they succumbed to their desires and the strings of destiny.

Instead, she had awoken to burning lips and a quivering heart. She knew. The moment the feeling spread over her, she knew.

Andromeda couldn't open her eyes in fear of what she would find.

Geralt and Yennefer locked in a battle of passion? The two carressing each other in gentle affection?

She feared she would find a liar and a coward in the place where she had seen her Geralt in the glowing embers of last night's fire.

But she couldn't escape his senses.

Unbeknownst to her, as she curled in on herself, eyes clenched shut as tears welled in her eyes, and she pretended to sleep as she stifled her laboured breaths, Geralt knew she was awake. And he knew she felt his betrayal just like she had every other time.

His soul roiled in its place, his heart burned in guilt. It was not what it seemed.

***

Yennefer had woken up before the rest had, before the sun had risen and its warmth had replaced what was lost as the campfire died out.

Geralt waited for her to say something as she sat up, to say 'good morning' or to say she would take watch instead, but she simply sat and stared.

He lost his patience quite quickly, feeling the way her stare burned into the side of his head as he forced his gaze away from Rory and onto her instead.

She looked amused.

"What?"

His words were gruff, full of curiosity and annoyance. He knew he had no right to be annoyed. He had pursued Yennefer just as much as she pursued him. But it was different then.

Now, knowing that his Rory felt the same about him as he did about her, knowing she had been longing for him from the day they met, that her heart yearned for him, everything changed.

Andromeda could have ran, every time he had bed another woman, she could have walked away. And even yesterday, she could have turned away without giving him a second glance.

But she was full of compassion and sincerity, and she gave away chances as easily as she gave away her heart. It had just taken him too long to realise it was him she had gifted it to.

Yennefer didn't answer him, instead making her way to her feet as she strutted his way, her movements slow and sensual. She was so sure of herself, so confident she would get what she wanted. And Geralt was scared that, somehow, she would.

She stood behind him, hands on his shoulders as she leaned down and pressed her breasts into his back, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "you look tense. I could help you."

Her voice was low and sultry, and Geralt from a few days ago would have given into her words immediately, but the Geralt that sat in front of her now only grimaced at her words. His shoulders raised as he pulled himself from her embrace, standing to his full height as he turned on her - "no."

"No?" Yennefer was shocked, sure she had seen the looks the two exchanged, the way they smiled at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking, but it had never made Geralt reject her.

"No," Geralt had the knack to look at least somewhat apologetic, his eyes furrowing as he looked down at Yennfer in sympathy, "the circumstances have changed."

"Geralt, you told me that destiny tied us. That destiny wanted us together."

"I was wrong, Yen. Destiny didn't pick you, I did. But I can't keep choosing you anymore."

"Geralt..." her hand came up to rest at his cheek, her eyes pooling with tears as she shook her head in denial, "you love me."

Geralt let her keep her hand on his face, let her take what she needed as he broke the heart of another woman he cared for. He shook his head, "I don't. I love her."

It was a whispered confession, his voice shaky as the truth came out, and Geralt found a weight lift of his chest at the revelation, "I love her," he repeated.

"I'm sorry, Yennefer," she felt her heart break further at the sound of her name on his lips, "I can't love you, I can't pick you."

Yennefer's other hand reached up for his cheek, both now cradling his face as she ran her fingers over familiar lines and scars. She pulled him closer, but he resisted.

"Please, Geralt. Just one more time."

Her voice was desperate, he could smell the defeat permeating off of her, and when he gave in and brushed his lips against her own, he could taste it in her tears too.

The kiss was familiar, it was easy. It was a goodbye.

***

Geralt pulled away from Yennefer, as though her lips against his own had burned him the way it burned Andromeda.

He felt anger festering in the pits of his stomach, he hated himself for giving in so easily, for hurting Rory again.

He wanted to go to her, to plead with her to listen to him and know that it meant nothing to him. That it was a goodbye for Yennefer and not a betrayal to her. That he loves her. He needs her.

But with Yennefer's hands holding his face once more, and Jaskier rousing from his sleep, he had again lost his chance, and perhaps he had now lost her.

***

As they packed their gear, the air was stifled with tension. As Yennefer, Geralt, and Andromeda stayed away from each other, it did not take much guessing from Jaskier and Cirilla to realise what had probably happened.

Cirilla observed her aunt, worry colouring her eyes as she watched her move with no real purpose, her eyes empty as if every ounce of hope and life had been washed out.

Geralt was like a father to Cirilla, she craved his affection and even more his approval. But she knew that Geralt had to be the one responsible for her aunt's state, and she couldn't help the anger that bubbled in her chest as the minutes ticked by and Andromeda lost more of herself to the quiet around her.

Still, no one spoke as they carried on their journey, marching through the barren-land with their rations untouched and their stomachs full of lead.

Cirilla stood next to Andromeda, holding her hand tightly as she kept her aunt close to her side and safe. All the while, she would glare at Geralt every time she noticed his gaze stray towards Andromeda, forcing him to look back at the path ahead as he wiped any essence of emotion from his face.

But every once in a while, his expression would become drowned once more, and he would find himself throwing agonised glances her way.

Cirilla remained unaware of the guilty glances Yennefer threw their way.

***

When they had reached the nearest village, it didn't take long for stories about a nasty group of ghouls at the local cemetery that had been eating dead corpses and unknowing citizens, to spread.

It had gotten so bad that the people of the village they had come across refused to leave their homes after dark. So when they had reached a tavern, after a silent agreement they could all do with some hot food and rest, Geralt found himself agreeing to a large pouch of silver and a long, comfortable stay in the tavern in exchange for slaying the beasts.

He had agreed easily, of course. Needing something to channel his pent-up energy into, the anger and guilt that festered in him and the anguish that settled in his heart every time Andromeda brushed past him like he was not there, every time he tried to speak to her and failed.

Yennefer was still here. She couldn't leave knowing she was why the group had become so broken and frail. Perhaps her leaving would have made it easier for Andromeda to breathe, but it wouldn't lessen the pain Yennefer had caused.

She loves Geralt, and she wants to see him happy. He chose her every time before that day in the tavern, but she knew every time he had picked her there was a part of him that yearned for Andromeda.

She tried to hide from the truth in their moans and sighs, tried to find solace in their pleasurable escapades, tried to make Andromeda jealous, and assert the idea that Geralt was her's.

But he wasn't.

He may have picked Yennefer because of the cards destiny had given him, but Andromeda's name was scrawled across his heart. He needed Andromeda in a way Yennefer could never replace.

A heart-breaking revelation she had slowly been coming to peace with.

She would leave the group in peace, but she wanted to fix her mess first.

***

Darkness had drawn over the sky when Geralt prepared to leave, and as he sheathed his sword Cirilla couldn't find it within herself to plead with him to let her join, as she had done so many times before.

Cirilla couldn't leave Andromeda, couldn't pick Geralt over her.

Andromeda may not have been her blood, but she was the only family Cirilla had left from the life she lived before.

Geralt didn't try and push Cirilla to join. He didn't ask Jaskier to play bait, knowing he was disappointed in him, too. And he couldn't look towards Yennefer, fearful that one glance would confirm every terrified thought Andromeda had running through her head.

He had smelt the stench of agony on her. It was heavy and brittle and still so sweet in a way that was perfect for her. She was beautiful even when she was in pain.

He took one last glance towards his ragged group of friends, a longing gaze marked for the woman who had stolen his heart and burned her presence into his soul. He lowered his head in shame, gruffly clearing his throat as he spoke, "you should all get some rest. Don't wait for me."

He walked out, his form much more quainter than any of them had seen it before.

A few moments of silence had passed, and then it looked like Yennefer was going to speak.

But Andromeda beat her to it, sensing the conversation looming ahead she pushed herself up from her seat, "I'm going to my room."

She didn't wait for any reply, walking sluggishly to her room as her thoughts threatened to drown her.

Some distance away, Geralt circled the cemetery he entered, waiting for movement. Nothing came.

He needed bait, but there was no one around but himself. So he pulled his small dagger, pressing the knife into his hand and dragging a cut across his palm.

Replacing the dagger, he squeezed his hand closed, relishing in the pain as blood dripped into the soil beneath his feet.

He waited a breath, and then he heard it. Soft growling from all around him as the beasts scuttled in a frenzy.

He waited for them to attack, always on the move, and he pushed them back with his sword and sigils. He had fought enough ghouls to battle them with ease, waiting for one to separate from the group, snarling loud in rage as it got ready to attack, making it a priority to kill before repeating.

Geralt continued his dance, never giving the ghouls a long enough break to catch him off guard and never working too hard to break a sweat. One by one, he hacked down each monster until he was the only beast left standing.

The butchered corpses of seven ghouls laid at his feet, satisfaction filling his gut as he considered his work. He raised his head to the sky, taking in the darkness as he realised not much time would have passed since he left, but there also wasn't long until sunrise.

Geralt couldn't stand having to go back in and face his companions, a part of him was even scared to.

Scared they would leave him for his transgressions, hate him, and abandon him just like his mother had once done.

His heart sank to his stomach, never had he felt such emotions, strong enough to rock him back and forth between the idea of running away or facing his problems head on.

He didn't know what to do.

Until he did.

It was still night, and Andromeda hated the dark. So it would be unlikely she was asleep.

Perhaps she was stargazing, a hobby she was so fond of. Geralt recalls the way her eyes glittered as she peered at the starlight, the way she emanated joy and delight as she pointed out constellations and spoke of the legends and fables behind them, how her heart raced when her eyes found his and her eyes would track his face as though she had found her favourite constellation in him.

He needed to find her. He needed to see her and speak to her and explain.

Maybe it wouldn't help, maybe it would make her hate him more. But the weight of such a confession sat unbearable on his shoulders, he needed her to know.

To know why he kissed Yennefer, to know of his guilt and of his sorrow. But mostly, to know of his truth.

Geralt could no longer hide behind cowardice - a truth badly disguised as indifference and intimidation.

Geralt found his steps hurrying back to the tavern, his footfalls heavy as he forced himself not to take off in a sprint. He pushed and pushed until he found himself at the tavern doors, never taking a breath to stop as he pushed through, tearing past a silent trio huddled by a fire and finding his way to the room he knew Andromeda would be in.

Faintly he hears Jaskier exclaim from his place by the fire, "fucking, finally!" And he feels a ghost of a smile stretch across his face.

A smile that sinks when he finds himself face-to-face with the door that separated him and the woman he had given his heart to, years before he had even realised.

Geralt wasn't sure if he should knock or barge in like he had done at the other tavern not so long ago. He wasn't sure if he should call out to her or simply get onto his knees and beg from outside.

His hand rested on the doorknob, steady and gentle as he twisted the door and creaked it open, "Rory?"

His voice was quiet, a hopeful whisper that was left unanswered.

As the door opened wider, Geralt could feel his heart sink at the realisation of what he had missed on his wild dash here. Something he should have realised miles before he had even reached the tavern once more.

He couldn't smell her sweet, sickly scent, the absence of orange blossoms and jasmine weighing heavy in his heart.

He couldn't hear her quiet breathing as she drowned herself in her imagination or her ragged breaths as she tried to hold back tears.

He couldn't hear the rustle of fabric as she fidgeted and picked at the loose strings in her clothes, or the sound of her comb brushing through her hair, or her huffs of boredom, or groans of irritations. Nothing.

Geralt could no longer hear the sound of her heartbeat.

He pushed open the door, his mind almost out of control as his actions became desperate. The room was bare, even of Andromeda's belongings and opposite him sat a lonely window, its sheer curtain billowing in the winds.

Rory had left. And it was all his fault.

Geralt's eyes burned, but he no longer had the strength to hold back his tears and let them fall freely down his face.

He walked the rest of the way in the room, sitting down heavily on the bed and basking in the faint smell of orange blossoms that surrounded him, and hidden between them was a scent he recognised as determination.

Geralt looked down at his hands, bloodied and destroyed, and found himself imagining a life where he hadn't lost Andromeda to his stupid mistakes.

He would fix this. He had to.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

[jessiexcorner]

‘Destiny is she.’

Kerack.

 Just a small town with not much going for it, though it was known for its alcohol and the pirates that used to raid the people there centuries ago. 'Not anymore.' Yennefer thought as she drank. After the red death, the once-powerful kingdom fell into shambles. At least they still had their beer going on for them.

"TOSS A COIN TO YOUR WITCHER!" Yennefer winced, hearing the familiar song buzzing in the back.

  "Ugh. If I have to hear that blasted song one more time, I'm going to kill myself." Yennefer turned to see the drunk bard who wrote it.

  "Jaskier?" He turned his head to look up to see the sorceress. He gasped.

  "You! Oh No! I've had enough of you! Y-you harlot witch!" Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

"What? Your girlfriend dumped or something? Also, I'm a sorceress, not a witch."

"No, you ruined my friendship with my only friend! Just cause you had problems in your relationship with him didn't mean you had to ruin mine!"

"We didn't have a relationship."

"It doesn't matter now! I don't need him; I have plenty of friends. And women who want me!" Yennefer turned to order another drink. She didn't want to deal with this right now. A few gulps later, a young girl with blonde hair walked straight toward them.

"Hey! I know you!"

"You do? Oh no. Did I sleep with you?" The girl ignored Jaskier and continued talking to Yennefer.

"You're Yennefer of Vengeberg, aren't you?" Yennefer sighed.

"Look, kid, I don't sell magic anymore. Find someone else."

"Actual, I have a proposition for you."

"Not interested."

"I think you will be-"

"Get lost, kid, before I put a curse on you."

"Weren't you the one looking for a way to conceive?" Yennefer froze. Yes, it's true; that is what she wanted a way to be able to have a child again. But it's not as if she announced it to the world.

"Who told you that?" The girl shrugged with a smug smile.

"Call her destiny." Yennefer scoffed.

"Destiny?" The young girl nodded.

"Everyone knows about her. There's a legend on her. They say that if you ever want to change all the bad that has been done to you; change the fate you've been given, then follow the river upstream to the cottage in the woods. There be a woman, full of grace and beauty, but be careful what is said to her for destiny is she."

"First of all," the drunk bard who had been listening in began, "that doesn't rhyme."

"It's not supposed-" the blonde tried to argue.

"Second of all, who's 'they'?"

"What? No- Look, that doesn't matter, I'm not even talking to you!"

"You know he has a point," Yennefer said.

"Huh?"

"Who is this 'they'?" She said with a cheeky smile. The blonde girl turned redder than the drunken bard and stomped in anger.

"You know what! I don't care! I did what She told me to do and delivered the message! I'm leaving!" She marched out of the bar.

"Say, did you catch her name? I think she fancies me." Jaskier mumbled. Yennefer took a deep breath and finished her drink. 'let's find out who this destiny person is.' She thought, heading out.

                                                       . . .

'Well, what do you know there is a house.' Yennefer thought. She noticed there was a protection spell around the house covering it like a thick fog. She walked towards the house, trying to create a pathway for herself. 'Damn,' This was harder than she thought it would be. 'Why would anyone need such a potent protection spell?' As she tried to move through, it became harder to breathe. Yennefer could feel a headache coming on, it felt as if something was pushing her to fall asleep. She falls and gets knocked out by the gas. Before she falls completely unconscious she notices the end of a flowy robe walking towards her.

Yennefer wakes up feeling as if she has the worst hangover of her life, she notices a blanket covering her and a bed. "What the fuck?" she mutters noticing her surroundings for the first time. A bedroom with a fireplace, cozy and warm but what stuck out the most was the fact she didn't remember how she got here. The door to the bedroom opens before Yennefer can investigate her surroundings more thoroughly.

"Ah, you're not dead. Good." a woman with (h/c) hair wearing a simple white flowy gown exclaims. Yennefer startled immediately turns defensive shooting a gust of magic toward the woman who waves it off as if it were nothing, almost as if, annoyed by Yennefer's reaction.

"Now, is this any way to repay hospitality Yennefer?" The woman says practically scolding Yennefer like a misbehaving child.

"You knocked me out!"

"No, you knocked yourself out." She sat next to the violet-eyed woman, raising her hand near her making Yennefer flinch from the unexpected movement. 

"Relax, I'm only helping your body get rid of the poison from the mist." She sighs moving away after she is done, Yennefer does feel a bit better, less like she had a massive hangover. The woman stands and walks near the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of her fingers, sitting down on a couch with a tea set on a table. "Well? come sit," She points at the other chair meant for Yennefer. Yennefer gets up and slowly walks to the woman sitting on the chair. "Cream?" She offers the raven-haired woman.

"..No," Yennefer declines not wanting any other foreign substances in her body.

"Suit yourself." The woman shrugs, pouring some cream for herself, and lifts her cup taking a sip.

"Why did you want me here?"

"Oh, did my little birdy not tell you?"

"No, well, yes but- that's not- look do you really have a way for me to conceive or are you playing games with me? Because i should warn you i am not in the mood." Yennefer huffs.

"Of course!" The (h/c) haired woman claps her hands making the tea set disappear, with a small vial and a contract replacing it. "This little bottle of magic can bring back anything that was lost. It'll fix you right up, grow back your uterus, and let you keep your good looks," She winks with a smile at Yennefer, who looks at the paper carefully.  

"And I’m guessing this contract I am supposed to sign ensures I do your bidding?" The stranger's grin widens.

"Clever girl. it is fair, after all, i am only asking very little in return for a high reward." Yennefer scoffed but then again she was desperate she wanted this, badly.

"And what would that small favor be?" She questions the woman. "Am i to find you someone and bring them to you?" she rolls her eyes sarcastically commenting.

"Well, yes, that is exactly what I want you to do."

"Right. Sounds simple enough."

"Hm, simple." she hums in agreement, "I just need you to bring me Geralt of Rivia."

...What? "No, no! Absolutely not! What could you possibly need him for?" Yennefer protests, making the other woman rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to eat him, or kill your lover boy,"

"He's not-"

"Come on Yen! All you have to do is bring one witcher here, and I'll give you the ability to conceive again, don't you want that choice back?" The woman circles Yennefer, "They took everything from you, yen. They took your right, your decision. Not only am i offering you your freedom, but i am also giving you an option that doesn't require sacrificing your beauty or power." She twirls a lock of Yennefer's hair around her fingers. "and all you have to do is bring me one measly man." Yennefer hesitates. This can't be real, this had to be a trick, but what could she do? the dragon plan didn't work, Geralt was an arse and she had nothing and no one left. "Tell you what, since you have so many issues with me," The woman picks up the vial and hands it to Yennefer. "You can try the potion of mine, and once it works, and it will believe me you will know if it does. You will bring me Geralt." Yennefer's face reads of worry. "Come on you, poor girl, what do you have to lose? You already tried everything. What, you're worried about your man? What do you think I will do to the witcher? Think I will kill him? He's more likely to end me before I can touch him." Yennefer lets the words of this woman influence her, but she couldn't understand what she wanted with Geralt.

"..Fine, deal, if this works...I'll bring you your witcher."

"Lovely!" The woman smiles waving her hand making a feather appear and floats into Yennefer's hand. Yennefer pauses, feeling the softness of the feather. 

"...Before I sign this, I want to know your name, your real name. I have a feeling it isn't 'destiny'" The woman chuckles once again walking behind Yennefer, placing her soft hands onto her shoulders.

"(Y/n), a pleasure to meet you, Yennefer."

[charles-forza-ferrari-sempre]

Fragments of a Broken Heart: Geralt x Reader

The morning dawned, casting a harsh light upon the empty side of the bed. As y/n stirred awake, a sense of unease settled in their chest. Their hand instinctively reached out, searching for Geralt's comforting presence, but all they found were cold, abandoned sheets. Confusion and dread washed over them, and their gaze fell upon a letter resting on the bedside table, a silent harbinger of the pain that awaited.

With trembling hands, y/n clutched the letter tightly, their heart pounding in their ears. The words within held the power to shatter their world, and as they began to read, tears welled up in their eyes, blurring the inked lines that would forever change their lives.

My Dearest Y/N,

As the sun rises on this new day, I find myself compelled to set forth on a path that does not include you by my side. The weight of my choice bears heavily upon my conscience, yet I cannot deny the pull of destiny that binds me to Yennefer.

I have tried to fight it, to resist the allure of her enchanting presence, but her hold on my heart is unyielding. I cannot turn away from the connection we share, the deep bond that has been forged over time.

I know not how to apologize for the pain my departure will cause you, for the void that will fill your days. But I implore you to understand that this decision was not made lightly. The complexities of love and fate have brought us to this crossroads, and I am compelled to follow the path that calls to me.

I leave you now in the tavern, alone and adrift. It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone, yet it is the consequence of my choice. May you find solace and support among the strangers who pass through, for they will be your companions in the days to come.

Please know that my departure does not diminish the love we once shared. The memories we created together will forever hold a place within my heart. But in this moment, I must prioritize my own happiness, even if it comes at the cost of yours.

I wish you well, Y/N, and hope that time will heal the wounds inflicted by my absence. May you find love and joy in a future that is no longer intertwined with mine.

With a heavy heart, Geralt

With each word, a fragile piece of their heart crumbled, until the weight of the letter became unbearable. They held it close to their chest, as if trying to hold onto the remnants of the love they once shared. The tears streamed down their face, intermingling with the inked confessions of Geralt's choice.

A scream of anguish erupted from deep within Y/n's soul, tearing through the silence of the room. It was a raw, primal release of pain, a cathartic burst of emotion that echoed through the empty space. They cried out, their voice laced with heartbreak as if the sheer force of their screams could turn back time, undo the devastation that had been wrought upon their love.

Their cries reverberated through the room, the sound a haunting melody of despair. With each sob and wail, they expelled the anguish that threatened to consume them, their body shaking uncontrollably. The weight of betrayal, loss, and abandonment hung heavy in the air, mingling with the echoes of their shattered dreams.

As the waves of grief subsided, the reader crumpled to the floor, their body trembling with exhaustion. They clung to the letter, their knuckles turning white as they held onto the tangible remnants of their pain. The room felt hollow, a cavernous void that mirrored the emptiness in their heart.

Yet, even in the depths of their despair, a flicker of resilience bloomed within the reader's broken spirit. Through tear-stained eyes, they gazed upon the letter one last time, silently vowing to forge a path forward from the ruins of their shattered love.

With trembling hands, they released their grip on the letter, allowing it to flutter softly to the ground. Their tears became a bittersweet testament to the depth of their emotions, and as they took a steadying breath, they resolved to rebuild their life, to find solace and strength within their own being.

In time, y/n would rise from the ashes of their pain, their cries transforming into expressions of growth and empowerment. They would seek healing, leaning on the support of trusted allies and discovering the resilience that lay dormant within them.

As they stepped out into the world, y/n carried with them the fragments of a broken heart, their tears now mingling with a newfound determination. They would find their own path, reclaiming their worth and embracing the possibility of a future where love and happiness were not defined by Geralt's presence.

And as they walked away from the echoes of their screams, they set forth on a journey of self-discovery, knowing that in time, they would find a love that would cherish and value them, a love that would never leave them alone in the depths of a desolate tavern.