Raven Sorceress

This is a private &. independent blog for  𝒀 𝑬 𝑵 𝑵 𝑬 𝑭 𝑬 𝑹  𝑶 𝑭  𝑽 𝑬 𝑵 𝑮 𝑬 𝑹 𝑩 𝑬 𝑹 𝑮   of the   𝑾 𝑰 𝑻 𝑪 𝑯 𝑬 𝑹   novels.  This blog will have influence from both game and show, but will focus on her characterization in the novels.  Crossover friendly and multiple verses/aus available.  Plot friendly and encouraged.  I will NOT write starters out any longer as they often go nowhere.  Memes are the best way to interact with me.  I am no longer accepting The Witcher Netflix canon into my portrayal.  I do not mind interacting with show writers, however, I only ask that you respect my wishes to keep the show canon away from my blog.  Here is a list of useful links in regards to this blog:

𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑮𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑪 :  Here I will have my rules listed as well as Yen’s bio, verses, canon relationships and my mains/exclusives.  Please feel free to come discuss the potential for dynamics with Yenna, but be warned, she is not a woman who easily warms up to others.  Though Yen is a far more free spirited soul and completely comfortable with her sexualilty/femininity, it does NOT mean she will sleep with your muse easily.  And it especially does not mean she’ll fall in love easily.  In fact, she’ll scorn your muse before loving them.

 𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 :  This is the best way to interact with me!  If you wish to send me something from a previous prompt, do not hesitate!  I will refrain from deleting prompts so you may send in any as you may wish!  But please consider how some come off and whether or not we need to discuss any form of dynamics between our muses!

 geralt  realised  exactly  why  he  hated  them  at  the  exact  moment  his  vision  turned  black    .    not  only  did  he  lose  his  vision    ,    but  he  lost  all  senses    .    and  the  cold              it  tore  through  him    ,    nearly  ripping  him  to  shreds  in  the  split  second  it  took  for  them  to  travel    ,    and  he    ,    unbidden    ,    thought  he  would  truly  die  now  and  never  see  the  other  side    .

but  the  ordeal  was  over  as  soon  as  it  had  begun    ,    and  he  found  himself  staggering  and  tripping  right  out  behind  her    ,    landing  gracelessly  on  his  forearm    .    groaning    ,    he  pushed  himself  up    ,    amazed  to  find  that  he  could    ,    in  fact    ,    still  feel  his  arms  and  his  legs    ,    and  his  head  still  sat  atop  his  shoulders    .    he  looked  to  the  sorceress  for  a  moment    ,    thoughtfully  held  back  some  jab  he  was  about  to  take    ,    and  turned  to  approach  the  mare  in  question    .          ❛  usual    ?    ❜        anything  usual  about  the  horse  had  been  taken  from  him    ,    given  how  he  still  felt  unfamiliar               still    ,    he  reached  a  hand  out  to  press  his  palm  to  her  neck    .          ❛  i’ll  follow  you    .    ❜        wherever  she  wished  to  go    .

          Portals and mages went hand in hand.  She’d learned long ago how to manage her way through them, but to never trust even a friend’s portal fully.  In that, the Witcher had some sense to fear them, but had she wished harm upon him, she’d have done it long ago or even now, especially with him so vulnerable.

          Yennefer sauntered her way to her horse.  Black and glistening even in the pale moonlight.  It neighed and tapped its hoof impatiently on the floor as the mage mounted herself upon her steed.   ❝ And here I hoped the sight of beloved chestnut would bring forth wonderous memories of you and Roach riding along the countryside, ❞  she snickered, brushing raven strands from her shoulders as she awaited for him to mount what would no doubt be, yet another Roach should the mare take to his liking.

what  is  it  yennefer  had  told  her  once?  oh,  yes:  sorceresses  are  impudent  and  malicious.  impish.  she-devil,  as  uncle  vesemir  often  said  with  a  fondness  she  misses  so  much  her  bones  ache.   “i’ll  let  you  brush  my  hair?”   emerald  eyes  become  almost  comically  large  for  the  magician  and  adding  a  pout  for  a  finishing  touch  should  do  it  nicely,  and  does,  if  she  says  so  herself.   “please,  mama?”   she  isn’t  a  little  girl  anymore  but  a  woman  grown;  and  yet,  she  still  seeks  the  comfort  only  her  mother  could  give  her.