#phiss

[thoughtofadumbteenprotagonist]

Pheal canonical phiss kink

[lavalamps-and-ladydoors]

maybe the real piss kink was inside us all along 💛

[muffinbingbong]

can i humbly request that we start tagging piss kink stuff with like #phiss or #phiss kink 😭 i really would like to filter those posts so i dont have to see them

[royalvolcanos]

gone to take a piss and this jumpscared me... forgot I put him there

[sunflowerandsins]

Witcher stans here I offer some dark Merihart

Disclaimer: this is obviously an unhealthy relationship and I just wanted to play with the concept.

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“Mine,” Philippa says when they’re alone. When everything Triss is longing for is being touched and her mind is lost in a haze.

“Mine,” Philippa whispers during the banquet. Yennefer’s words are still burning on Triss’s skin as she seeks refuge in her arms. Philippa’s lips burn on the skin and her mouth tastes blood as she marks Triss as hers. Like she always was.

“Mine,” Philippa growls after lodge meetings, where not even politics or something as big as the worry for the future of magic in the continent are enough to outclass the hunger in her gaze.

And Triss lets her, because there is nothing sweeter than worshipping Philippa. Because the thought of being consumed by her, the thought of being held higher than anyone, even through Philippa’s denial of feelings, feels so good.

Sometimes she retaliates against the bounds of their relationship. No matter how many times she has been thrown down by Philippa herself before.

In those days where she feels so strongly for the other woman that she’s afraid she might die of heartbreak she dares to speak of her feelings.

In those days where she’s longing for something more than being a fun alternative to the women at the redanian court she dares to do something unacceptable. She dares to be jealous, even if she knows that if there is one thing Philippa doesn’t like in her lovers that is jealousy. Because Triss is hers, but it’s not reciprocal.

She makes sure to show it to her every time they get too close.

She does it by reminding her that she’s nothing and nothing she will remain. Just a pawn in Philippa’s plans, an insignificant dot on the map of her life.

And when that happens the sweet intoxication of love is replaced by the taste of her tears and by the bitterness of disappointment.

Even through that Triss remains. Because one second of bliss is enough to make the tears disappear, even if not for long.

[sunflowerandsins]

Happy late pride month! Here's modern Philippa and Triss coming back from pride🏳️‍🌈

[shlyiva]

merihart <3

[sunflowerandsins]

Omg prompts? 🥺 How about Triss convincing a very tired Pippa to let her braid her hair so she can relax for once and phil gets all sleepy in her lap or something idkajsjsjdj

Here you go! I loved writing this and if anyone wants to leave me more prompts they are more than welcome😌

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“Here, let me,” Triss says sliding her arm around the other woman’s shoulders to reach her hand.

Philippa resists a bit, her grip on the brush is strong and for a second it looks like she won’t let it go. After a bit she relases the handle with a snort, still remaining stiff in her position.

The reason of her behavior is clear to Triss. Philippa had always been reluctant to accept any form of help and, after losing her eyes, she had started to refuse it even more adamantly than before.

Being powerless is its own type of pain, the younger sorceress knows it well, it's different from an phisical wound, more intimate and difficult to face.

For a woman like Philippa Eilhart, used to have the world in her hands, not being able to do basic things like braiding her hair without the aid of her magical blindfold must be terrible.

The brush slides against the damp, dark hair without meeting any knots. Triss’s nails scrap lightly against Philippa’s scalp as she parts it and starts braiding.

The younger mage's movements are deliberately slow to avoid tugging on the hair and hurting her but also to make the process a bit more enjoyable.

Philippa’s body is still rigid but as time goes by she starts to relax, her shoulders dropping slightly as she leans back a little. Triss hums softly a ballad as she works. She doesn’t remember the words of it, only the melody, but Philippa seems to appreciate it so it’s enough.

It’s not long before she has finished braiding the hair.

Triss considers for a second to remain close to her lover but she decides against it. Philippa didn’t seem very chatty or in need of company earlier, she rarely is lately, so it might be better to leave her alone.

As she moves to get up something stops her, the older sorceress has grabbed her by the wrist and doesn’t seem intentioned to let her go.

Without saying anything she lets her hand slide on Triss’s arm, goosebumps appear on her skin where Philippa’s cold fingers are trailing while she pulls her closer.

Triss presses herself against Philippa’s back once again and she lets her arms wrap around her waist, resting her head on her shoulder as she breathes in the scent of her skin.

It’s not very strong and it’s almost suffocated by the one of the oils she used for her hair but it’s there. A warm cinnamon scent that has been a constant in Triss’s life since the day they met.

The older sorceress slides back a little more, her hands holding Triss’s as her breathing starts to slow down and her head drops slightly.

Philippa allowing herself a moment of softness it’s a thing that rarely happens and Triss is determined to treasure it, everything else can wait after all.