She has no intention of escalating things until they turn violent, dead men can't feed her, and she would like this meal to last. It's been keeping her hunger at bay for almost two days, it's been good but she knows it could be better. Besides, these humans really are fun to watch, they make such an unlikely pair. Her tail curls up behind her, like a cat staring at tasty, fat mice, but she does listen to the Witcher. She can't tell if that 'Stop' is meant for her or for his partner.
Jaskier can't tell either, not like he's listening much, his mind clouded with desire and the need to feel Geralt's skin against his own, his body pressed hard against his, inside him. But then, the succubus suggestion finally sinks in. I could just... watch. And help.
Help?
Help!
How dare she...!
The bard looks over Geralt's shoulder, brows knitting together, and for some brief seconds, the word turns into focus. It doesn't last but it's long enough that Jaskier can growl at her, actually growl, and say "No. Mine."
His arms wrap around Geralt's chest more firmly, hands clutching at his front, and there's a glare in the blue eyes that is only slightly getting clouded again. The pheromones she's releasing, her magic, is still very much influencing him but Jaskier tries to cling to his sanity, what he knows to be the truth. And what he knows is that he doesn't want Geralt to be with anybody else, that he would let the Witcher go if his heart belonged to another but that Jaskier's own would never recover.
'Did he just growl at me!?' It makes the succubus pause, confusion all over he beautiful features. Her tail drops and she blinks comically a couple of times, as if she can't believe that the bard has the nerve to talk back to her. She can make any man, woman or beast do her bidding unless their magic is powerful enough or...or their heart belongs to another. She's followed them enough to know the brunette has as much magical ability as a potato sack, so it can't be that. Love. Ew, that's nothing like lust and won't satisfy her hunger. The woman's eyebrows pinch together and she pouts before she can get a hold of herself. You aren't fun anymore.
Any other monster saying that with an annoyed expression should be warning enough that things are about to go downhill. But Succubus aren't Bruxas.They're not werewolves, or trolls, or drowners. Annoying, yes, but not murderous unless it happens by accident. She crosses her arms over her chest like a petulant child and drops the flirtatious facade, along with the spells that making the men act on their deepest urges. When she does, the cove changes as well. It doesn't turn hideous but the looming trees have a scarier feel to them, casting dark shadows over the sand and grass. The rocks feel more uncomfortable, the ocean darker, ominous, and the moonlight eerie rather than welcoming.
In retrospect, Geralt will kick himself for falling for this alluring illusion so easily, but this succubus had been trailing them for some time. She was clever and planned out this meeting, building them to a point where even a witcher couldn't tell something was afoot until he was already affected. Thankfully this particular "monster" isn't of the violent kind. Geralt doesn't even have his sword with him right now.
Jaskier coming to his defense in a possessive way is surprising enough to give Geralt pause, not knowing how to respond at first. The succubus looks annoyed by the behavior and the ease as to which she backs off is suspicious. Did Jaskier really just ward off an active succubus from the pair of them? Geralt still feels paranoid enough to keep a defensive posture, ready to fight if necessary, but then she's glaring, pouting, and the world around them seems to melt into reality again.
Fuck, it's cold out here.
Geralt shivers from the sudden blast of cold night air by the beach, darkness surrounding them save for the full moon, but thankfully he can see clearer than humans in the dark. His hand comes up to squeeze Jaskier's forearm reassuringly, trying to pull it away gently. The succubus sighs like she cannot believe her luck here, wriggling her fingers in their direction before she gestures to the inn up on the beach.
"There are far more fun energies from the humans inside. I've wasted so much time here."
She turns to disappear into the woods beside them and Geralt lets her, despite feeling the need to urge her not to try anything funny. His mouth and throat feel too dry all of a sudden, and he turns to face Jaskier instead, concern evident in his voice: "Are you alright?" A hand pressed to the bard's shoulder, he searches his face. "The spell has worn off. You might feel dizzy from the rush of blood."
To be honest, Jaskier has no idea what happened either. He wasn't thinking about scaring away the succubus, it's not a thing that should have been possible. His mind was in a much simpler state, protecting the one he categorized as his lover. But apparently, you can annoy a succubus into letting you alone??? Jaskier is good at annoying people, it's a natural talent: It was about time such thing came in handy.
Now, no single person who ever met Julian Alfred Pankratz would say that he's shy or that suffers from things like embarrassment or common sense. He might have at some point in his youth but those days are long gone. Usually. Trying to climb your best friend (boyfriend?) and acting like a cat in heat while in a very public space would embarrass even the more shameless person. He hadn't listened when Geralt asked him to stop, that's the worst of all.
The Succubus left but Jaskier isn't paying her any attention. He retreats his arms from Geralt's form after the squeeze and hugs himself when the chill air of the night had hit him like a ton of bricks. His clothes and his hair need to be fixed but he can't bring himself to care about that. He's trying really hard to avoid looking at Geralt's eyes and also willing his boner away. None of those things are easy to accomplish and so far none of them is also happening.
"I am I think. That was...weird. The last days feel weird." He dares to look up at Geralt, wanting to apologize, to check on him. The words are stuck in his throat.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
givingexposition) wrote2020-01-03 11:55 pm
no subject
Jaskier can't tell either, not like he's listening much, his mind clouded with desire and the need to feel Geralt's skin against his own, his body pressed hard against his, inside him. But then, the succubus suggestion finally sinks in. I could just... watch. And help.
Help?
Help!
How dare she...!
The bard looks over Geralt's shoulder, brows knitting together, and for some brief seconds, the word turns into focus. It doesn't last but it's long enough that Jaskier can growl at her, actually growl, and say "No. Mine."
His arms wrap around Geralt's chest more firmly, hands clutching at his front, and there's a glare in the blue eyes that is only slightly getting clouded again. The pheromones she's releasing, her magic, is still very much influencing him but Jaskier tries to cling to his sanity, what he knows to be the truth. And what he knows is that he doesn't want Geralt to be with anybody else, that he would let the Witcher go if his heart belonged to another but that Jaskier's own would never recover.
'Did he just growl at me!?' It makes the succubus pause, confusion all over he beautiful features. Her tail drops and she blinks comically a couple of times, as if she can't believe that the bard has the nerve to talk back to her. She can make any man, woman or beast do her bidding unless their magic is powerful enough or...or their heart belongs to another. She's followed them enough to know the brunette has as much magical ability as a potato sack, so it can't be that. Love. Ew, that's nothing like lust and won't satisfy her hunger. The woman's eyebrows pinch together and she pouts before she can get a hold of herself. You aren't fun anymore.
Any other monster saying that with an annoyed expression should be warning enough that things are about to go downhill. But Succubus aren't Bruxas.They're not werewolves, or trolls, or drowners. Annoying, yes, but not murderous unless it happens by accident. She crosses her arms over her chest like a petulant child and drops the flirtatious facade, along with the spells that making the men act on their deepest urges. When she does, the cove changes as well. It doesn't turn hideous but the looming trees have a scarier feel to them, casting dark shadows over the sand and grass. The rocks feel more uncomfortable, the ocean darker, ominous, and the moonlight eerie rather than welcoming.
no subject
Jaskier coming to his defense in a possessive way is surprising enough to give Geralt pause, not knowing how to respond at first. The succubus looks annoyed by the behavior and the ease as to which she backs off is suspicious. Did Jaskier really just ward off an active succubus from the pair of them? Geralt still feels paranoid enough to keep a defensive posture, ready to fight if necessary, but then she's glaring, pouting, and the world around them seems to melt into reality again.
Fuck, it's cold out here.
Geralt shivers from the sudden blast of cold night air by the beach, darkness surrounding them save for the full moon, but thankfully he can see clearer than humans in the dark. His hand comes up to squeeze Jaskier's forearm reassuringly, trying to pull it away gently. The succubus sighs like she cannot believe her luck here, wriggling her fingers in their direction before she gestures to the inn up on the beach.
"There are far more fun energies from the humans inside. I've wasted so much time here."
She turns to disappear into the woods beside them and Geralt lets her, despite feeling the need to urge her not to try anything funny. His mouth and throat feel too dry all of a sudden, and he turns to face Jaskier instead, concern evident in his voice: "Are you alright?" A hand pressed to the bard's shoulder, he searches his face. "The spell has worn off. You might feel dizzy from the rush of blood."
no subject
Now, no single person who ever met Julian Alfred Pankratz would say that he's shy or that suffers from things like embarrassment or common sense. He might have at some point in his youth but those days are long gone. Usually. Trying to climb your best friend (boyfriend?) and acting like a cat in heat while in a very public space would embarrass even the more shameless person. He hadn't listened when Geralt asked him to stop, that's the worst of all.
The Succubus left but Jaskier isn't paying her any attention. He retreats his arms from Geralt's form after the squeeze and hugs himself when the chill air of the night had hit him like a ton of bricks. His clothes and his hair need to be fixed but he can't bring himself to care about that. He's trying really hard to avoid looking at Geralt's eyes and also willing his boner away. None of those things are easy to accomplish and so far none of them is also happening.
"I am I think. That was...weird. The last days feel weird." He dares to look up at Geralt, wanting to apologize, to check on him. The words are stuck in his throat.