dragonlady7

some-stars

via https://ift.tt/3104D3z

[for the WIP title meme; I’ll be real here I just went to my Docs folder and sorted it by “recent” and mentally filtered out the ones that are done]

It’s almost the first thing I wanted to write in Witcher, but then I was like oh I don’t know these characters well enough, I’ll have to write some backstory, and now I’ve written, uh, gestures broadly

but like, in the book, Jaskier gets abducted and tortured by a mage trying to discover Geralt’s whereabouts, and Yennefer saves him, so like, I’d be crazy not to include that in the Ancient Sea sequel! but. But it’s not coming along, at the moment, so I don’t have a great deal of material to excerpt. I have a rough draft from like March, but I didn’t know anybody yet, so now I’m trying to rewrite with characters I know much better. But I think the problem is that my brain keeps dismissing it as something I’ve already written, when it’s not, I did a rough draft that’s useless and also incomplete. So I’m having trouble focusing on it.

But accidentally I’ve had Yennefer sexually torturing Jaskier instead, and that has wound up being the intro, LOL. I mean, thematic resonance? Maybe that’s what the fic will just be instead. Jaskier doesn’t need real torture, he cries pretty enough from the fun stuff.

(Yennefer POV)

So, Geralt was out of reach, but Jaskier wasn’t, and tonight she’d stolen him out of his wretched little bunk in university staff housing and managed to conduct an experiment that had yielded the valuable scrap of data that if you managed to fuck Jaskier to orgasm purely from prostate stimulation you could get him to absolutely dissolve in the most stunningly beautiful tears, and he was presently a complete sobbing wreck in her bed. It was beautiful, but he had rather quickly moved into a self-conscious state that was less attractive and somewhat distressing.

“Shh,” she murmured, smoothing her hand across his back and pressing her cheek against his head, his face buried in her shoulder. “It’s all right. Let it out, sweetheart.” She wasn’t normally the type to be a shoulder to cry upon, but she’d done this to him more or less on purpose and she was aware that if he just bottled it all right back up he’d possibly give himself a stroke. And even now, as he tried to curl himself tight enough to disappear, there was still something delicious and beautiful about him– about his pain, perhaps, and she was willing to put up with a bit of pathetic sniveling to get at it.

(Now, of course, we see that I’ve just last week published a different fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847148?view_full_work=true with a different character crying prettily after orgasm, though it was from his POV so you don’t see it as pretty but I assure you it was, and then we wonder about the author’s id and maybe we realize that sometimes lovely patterns repeat themselves, and uh, listen, shut up, I do what I want when it comes to fiction.)