#tissaia x rita

[badasspantiestalker]

Please vote for the character you want to have drawn by me for the 6 Character Fanart Challenge! 😊💕

The poll will go 1 week, the six characters with the highest scores will be selected for the challenge. ^^

[daerienn]

Gentle reminder that we are hosting another Teeny Tiny Tissaia Bang. You can find all info here! Happy writing and arting! 🫶🏻

[chaosandorder46]

Fic recommendation!

[fuck-yeah-yennefer]

Margarita: We should go to the park sometime i feel like i'm not getting enough sunlight.

Margarita: Or water.

Tissaia: Am i dating a houseplant?

[uselessfanboy]

✨Rissaia ✨

I love them together so much. They deserve to be happy.

I did try something different than usual for skins and colors and ngl I'm in love with it.

Hope you like it and let me know c:

If you repost please give credit:

Ig: @belzebulbe

Tumblr: @uselessfanboy

[immortalspacelesbian]

yennefer: are you in love with rita?

tissaia, sweating: ... no

yennefer: then why do you draw t+r in hearts everywhere?

tissaia: it stands for tea and revenge.

[likecastle]

Witcher Femslash February -  Apart

OK, I’m gonna try to do as many of @bamf-jaskier​‘s Witcher Femslash February prompts as I can!​ No promises that I’ll be able to keep up with it, but I’m gonna give it a shot!

“What?” Tissaia repeats, not for the first time.

“—me now?” Rita’s voice crackles back into focus, emanating thin but clear from the xenovox on Tissaia’s desk.

“Yes, that’s better.” Somewhat, anyway. “Don’t move.”

“Sorry, darling,” Rita says. “We’ve all been having a terrible time with magical interference lately. Enid says it’s the ruins. Apparently, they emit a low level of magical radiation that can make certain kinds of spells extremely unpredictable. According to Enid, there are all sorts of curious phenomena attributed to interference from lingering elven spellwork. Did you know there’s a manor house somewhere outside of Oxenfurt where a portal is known to open periodically in the back of a wardrobe, of all places?”

Tissaia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yes, I did.”

“Somebody really ought to do a comparative study between that portal and the one at Tor Lara. I  don’t think I’ve ever seen a proper survey of spontaneously occurring portals, have you? Maybe Yennefer would know of one. Didn’t she—”

“If I arranged a research grant, would you come home any sooner?”

Rita laughs. “Oh, I’m being a dreadful bore, aren’t I?”

Tissaia doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. Rita has precious little time to spare for her while she’s away on this expedition, and Tissaia doesn’t want to waste what time they do have complaining, though she’s sorely tempted to.

“You aren’t jealous, are you?” Rita asks.

That Rita is far away on an isolated research expedition led by an elven sorceress widely believed to be the most beautiful woman in the world? “Of course not.”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about, my dear.” Tissaia tries not to bristle at the smile she hears in Rita’s voice. “I much prefer a sullen, sour-faced paramour. Someone strict and judgmental, who really can’t take a joke.”

“What a relief,” Tissaia says dryly, and is rewarded with another peal of Rita’s tinny laughter.

“Just a few more weeks,” Rita says, finally relenting in her teasing. “A month, at most.”

“It’s not the same without you here,” Tissaia says, because she cannot bring herself to say, I miss you.

[mialander]

tissaia: fuck me if i’m wrong but-

rita: wrong. you’re wrong

tissaia: i haven’t even finished-

rita: YOU. ARE. WRONG.

[corvo-bianco-lilacs]

72 Tissaia x Margarita???

72. “I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it.”

———————————————————-

Rita slowly tiptoed through the house, her bare feet lightly tapping the surface of the hardwood floors as she slowly made her way towards the bedroom. She approached the door and slowly pushed it open, ever mindful of the way the hinges creaked if you pushed it open too quickly, and gazed into the darkness that blanketed the room. She saw the figure lying in the bed, bringing a devious smile to her lips.

Pulling out a jar of ice water, she slowly made her way over to the bed until she came to stand beside the sleeping figure beneath the quilt. Raising the jar over her head, she was just about to dump the contents out until the figure spoke.

“I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it, Rita…” Tissaia mumbled, eyes slowly blinking open to gaze up at her love.

Rita’s shoulders slumped as she lowered the jar to her waist, a huff of disappointment leaving her lips. She placed the jar on the bedside table next to her and lowered onto the bed at Tissaia’s side.

“You’re no fun, are you.” Rita teased, tucking Tissaia’s hair back behind her ear.

“I didn’t think that being ‘fun’ was why you fell in love with me.” Tissaia replied, a yawn pushing past her parted lips. “Now, come back to bed, my darling.”

Rita sighed, grabbed the jar to take a sip, put it back down and then climbed into bed beside Tissaia. She placed a soft kiss to Tissaia’s shoulder, then nuzzled her face to the spot.

“I love you…” Rita whispered, her arms wrapping around Tissaia’s waist.

“And I love you..” Tissaia replied. “But if you ever think of dumping cold water on my head in the middle of the night again, I will definitely kick your ass.”

“Duly noted love.”

[limerental]

ficletober day 8 - rita/tissaia

As the new Rectoress of Aretuza, Margarita Laux-Antille can reliably be found hiding from her responsibilities in the office of former Rectoress Tissaia de Vries.

Takes place ambigiously pre-saga with some vague foreshadowing of canon events. I'd wanted to write a fix-it with Ciri attending Aretuza and Rita bitching while Tissaia just smiles knowingly, recalling Yennefer... but Rita got all emotional instead

"Ugh," moaned Margarita Laux-Antille as she collapsed into a chair across from Tissaia's desk. When her disgruntled moaning did not get her the desired attention and the chair proved to be horribly uncomfortable, she stretched out further and sighed deeply instead. 

"Rita," said Tissaia de Vries without looking up, the scratch of her writing implement barely pausing. "You do realize you have an office of your own, yes? A much larger, nicer one. I should know. It was mine for a long while."

"Yes, but anyone can find me there," said Rita, dropping her head back against the arm of the chair, her curly hair spilling over it. As though anyone who knew anything would not search for her in Tissaia's office next. "Though I will say, my chairs are more comfortable than yours."

"Mine are plenty comfortable when one sits in them in a reasonable fashion," said Tissaia, though she had not looked up once the other woman entered and could not know what truly ridiculous position Rita was seated in this time.

Rita, who sprawled in an exaggerated lean with her heels kicked up on the small table beside the chair, adjusted her posture into even more of an unreasonable slump. She sighed more deeply and dramatically still and stared up at the arched ceiling.

"These girls are going to be the death of me. Not a single one of them knows what's good for them."

"You're meant to teach them that."

"Yes, well, they're either dumb as rocks or deliberately ignoring the lesson."

"Rita, I don't believe it's good form for the Rectoress to call her students 'dumb as rocks'," said Tissaia. "No matter how true it is." The phrase sounded very silly spoken in her level tone, and Rita giggled.

"I trust you won't tell anyone," she said, adjusting her sitting position to find Tissaia watching her, one thin brow arched. The dull scratch of her quill paused as she dipped it in the inkwell and then resumed, her attention returned to her work. 

It perplexed Rita that she continued to use such an antiquated and mundane form of writing, especially given how much time she spent lost in writing and research. Rita owned several of the market's latest gadgets, from pens with self-contained inkwells thinner than a finger to magical contraptions that leapt across the page to the sound of the user's voice. The latter had saved her a fair bit of mortification in her position as Rectoress. Her penmanship was atrocious on her best day.

Rita forgot, often, how old Tissaia truly was. No matter how many times she observed the older sorceress, she could find no real marks of that great age. How unfair that the sorcerers of the same era have grown wizened and grey, their wrinkles and pockmarks and long wisps of beards lending them a mark of status, a respected wisdom, and yet, no sorceress has ever been allowed to show even a grey hair or a blemish without being regarded as a dowdy old witch who has lost her touch.

Rita tried to picture Tissaia with the stoop and hardened features of an ordinary village hedge witch and could not. She appeared timeless, her hair slicked back into a neat braid, her skin pale and smooth. Her long, nimble fingers, showing no signs of stiffness of the joints, delicately lifted a finished page by the edges to set aside to dry. Rita watched as they laced together under Tissaia's chin, realizing she had spent several quiet minutes staring at those fingers and that the woman's attention had suddenly returned wholly to her.

"Well, go on," said Tissaia. "I know you'll sit there groaning and sighing the rest of the evening if you don't spit out the real reason you're not in your own office working. And I'm sure you have a good deal of work that you're avoiding. And more piling up the longer you delay here."

Rita groaned.

"Don't remind me," she says. "You should see the stack of documents waiting in my inbox, I swear they're in danger of spilling over and–" Tissaia's facial expression said she would truly rather not see or imagine a disaster like that. "Truthfully, I… it's lonely."

The office of the Rectoress of Aretuza was tall-ceilinged and ornately furnished, the shelves and cabinets stocked with anything she required, the portraits of figures of note in the school's history staring out from gilded frames along the long, shadowed vestibule. Rita found that her own portrait hardly looked like her at all, too severe and upright, and Tissaia's also had a wan coldness to it that did little to reflect her true nature. 

Tissaia may be stiff and formal and particular, appearing unfeeling and disinterested, but to those who knew what to look for, her eyes always betrayed the depth of her compassion and conviction.

The way she watched Rita now was undeniably warm, her cheek settling with the slightest soft give against her laced hands. It ignited a horrible possessive fondness in Rita. Did Tissaia look at anyone else like that, allowing then to see a small glimpse of what could be perceived as weakness? Did she know what her trust and care meant to Rita, to be selected of all possible candidates as her successor, to have spent years in teaching and preparing her, to openly give her this time and attention now, though it would be a simple thing to ignore or shoo her?

Rita had always felt like too much. Too messy, too scattered, too loud and sensual and stubborn in her emotional convictions, and it made little sense that Tissaia ever tolerated her. And yet, she was never been made to feel like her presence became an imposition, unwanted and irritating. 

Someday, she thought, I will be brave enough to confess what that means to me.

Tissaia was old, and Rita would be old too someday. She planned to be there beside her. They had all the time in the world.

"It's lonely," Rita said again. "I don't know how you stand it, sitting alone in this office all day."

"I rarely feel alone," said Tissaia, smiling a small, fond smile, "knowing that you are likely to call on me."

It was a hopeful and ageless sort of love, what she felt for Tissaia. A love without words and with no need for swift consummation or grand declarations. Unlike their stuffy portraits thet would hang for all tome in Aretuza's halls, it was a love that reflected their true natures, their shared warmth and deep passion.

Years on, after all the dark and terrible and lonely things that inevitably transpired, Margarita could only hope that that had been enough.

[daerienn]

Blankets - mydearmydearmydear

Rita and Yennefer know how to help Tissaia fall asleep.

[chaosandorder46]

1 and 10

OOOOOHHHH...I have never written Tissaia x Calanthe before, but this was fun. 🥰

#1 Getting overly jealous over small interactions

Tissaia couldn’t have clenched her jaw tighter if she tried. Rita leaned in closely, and Tissaia smelled her perfume: sweet and seductive, vanilla and spiced rum.

“Careful darling. You’re going to crack a tooth."

Tissaia huffed and shot her best friend a glare.

They had been seated at a table in a small coffee shop, enjoying an afternoon of blessedly empty schedules, when Calanthe walked in.

“Look at her!” Tissaia hissed. “Eist?”

Rita smiled knowingly. “He’s not bad looking, Tiss.”

Tissaia scoffed incredulously. “For a used car salesman.”

“If you two would just get your shit together, you wouldn’t have to worry about him.” Rita smirked and reached for the last bite of Tissaia’s pastry. “Are you done with this?”

Calanthe discreetly watched Tissaia and Rita, barely concealed by a row of snake plants. She was incandescent. The way Rita leaned in and whispered in Tissaia’s ear as if she had any right to do so.

Beside her, Eist prattled on about some work emergency or other…she wasn’t listening.

Not soon enough, her black coffee and Eist’s lavender vanilla soy latte was ready.

“Do you want to stay here? Or take it to go?” He asked looking around for a table.

“Let’s go,” she said quickly, striding toward the exit with Eist at her heels.

As she approached Tissaia’s table, Calanthe schooled her face into a mask of indifference.

“Tissaia,” Calanthe said tipping her chin in the air. She tried to hide her sneer. “Rita.”

Tissaia raised her eyebrows, but her face otherwise betrayed nothing. “Calanthe…and? I forget your name.”

#10 “Why don’t you get it?”

On campus the next day, Tissaia calmly moved about the lab, preparing the space for yet another research project for which she’d just received an embarrassingly large grant. She heard the badge reader on the door beep and looked up.

Calanthe.

“Come to see how a successful laboratory operates?" She quirked an eyebrow.

Calanthe snorted a mirthless laugh. “Helps when you are close with the dean.”

“You know Rita and I are just friends,” Tissaia said icily. “What about you? Seemed awful cozy with your department head yesterday.”

“Eist?” Calanthe laughed bitterly. “I am not cozy with Eist.”

“Right.”

Calanthe gritted her teeth. This woman was infuriating. She slowly approached Tissaia, who carefully placed the pipette she was holding in its designated place. She watched Calanthe approach calmly.

“You don’t get it do you?” Calanthe said, voice cracking slightly.

Tissaia took a calming breath. “I don’t think I do.”

Calanthe smirked, then bit the corner of her lower lip. She fixed Tissaia with an intense stare and waited.

[sunflowerandsins]

As the seasons go by

When the seasons change people do the same, Margarita Laux-Antille learns this the hard way.

[fuck-yeah-yennefer]

Tisaia to the new girls at Aretuza: I promise I won’t bite.

Tissaia to Rita a little later: I did actually bite a kid once.

[uselessfanboy]

Rita x Tissaia 🥺

I just- 🥺😭😭😭😭😭

I love this draw so muuuch.

Young modern Rita is the most beautiful woman E V E R.

It’s for my fiction of course, but I couldnt keep this draw only for me. They look awesome. It’s like, young Rita is 18 on this and it is the first real interaction she have with Tissaia and I just-

🥺🥺🥺👌🏻

This one is one of my Fav. Really. Look at Rita!! 😭😭💕💞

If you repost please give credit

@uselessfanboy @belzebulbing

[immortalspacelesbian]

hi i wrote a fic

the title itself is description enough, but here’s the summary:

Tissaia De Vries, queen of avoiding things (especially her emotions), did not sign up for a party, but here she was.

She was going to kill Rita. Sooner or later.

psst go read it 👀