open post;

[choicely]

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open post for pic prompts, starters, and texts. f/f + f/m for shipping.
please link nsfw images.
compliant through season 4 of the witcher.

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late night drinking

[songquips]

[ honestly, it's not surprising that they end up drinking together more often than not. geralts off--- doing what geralt does. moping, jaskier thinks, and training ciri as best he can. they're more alike than jaskier realised at first, more stubborn in their own ways.

the girl's geralt's match for sure, in a different way than the woman sitting before him. yennefer is a beautifully terrifying mystery, a bad decision. but both he and geralt can be called fools for different reasons.

yennefer and he are the only ones in the castle's main hall, seated close to the fire that warms the too large space. kaer morhen is frigid in the winter months, though jaskier is certain that it bites at the bones even ass winter melts away into spring. there's alcohol at least to warm the bones, when company from the near by town is hard to find.

alcohol, fire, and other company. for all he doesn't admit it, yennefer is amongst favoured company. maybe it's not as great of a secret any more as he refills their cups of wine to the brim, holding out one for the mage to take. he pulls it back when she reaches to take it, grinning. clearly, he has forgotten that he is still playing with fire. ] Now, now. Where are your manners?

[choicely]

[ There isn't much to do in Kaer Morhen — when she isn't taking Ciri's training into her own hands, that is — other than drink. The best scenario would be to enjoy these drinks alone, but Jaskier seems to have a knack for digging them out of whatever corners he can find, and what's more is that he's foolishly willing to share them with her most of the time.

The rest of the hall is empty at the moment, most of Geralt's brethren either having gone into the closest town to enjoy warmer bodies and warmer beds or passed out snoring in their own rooms — as for the White Wolf and his latest charge, Yennefer suspects he's putting Ciri through her paces in some sort of night training. Which, inevitably, leaves her alone with Jaskier and at least three bottles of wine to make their way through.

She's not drunk, necessarily, but she is feeling enough of the effects of the wine that her lips part in subtle unamusement when he snatches her cup away from her, out of reach, prompting her to slant forward into his space with slowly narrowing eyes. ] Where are your manners? It's bad form to deny a lady anything.