#ailis writes

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,��� you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[lillotte17]

I couldn't help it, yes, I let it get in The helpless optimism of spring Worn out and tired, and my heart near retired And the world bent double from weeping And yet, the birds begin to sing, ooh, oh

Daffodil Daffodil

[brockachu]

hey so uh:

the ghost you’re dressed up as | e | 36k | mceichel

(warning: horror fic w/ graphic violence & sex + depictions of psychological trauma & ghost/haunting imagery)

happy to finally get to share this one with you guys 🥹💖

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 11: Blindfold

Summary: Astarion introduces the blindfold into their sex life. A good time is had by both.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tags: Blindfold, Restraints, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Light Dom/Sub, Oral Sex (female receiving), Nipple play, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Humiliation, Degradation Kink, Begging

**Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual**

Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

            Ailis and Astarion both stumbled through the door of the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn.  Neither noticed as they continued to kiss each other ravenously.  Astarion walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell backwards onto it.  He followed her, not even giving her a chance to compose herself.  He began to trail kisses down her throat.  He pulled the collar of her shirt aside to reach her collar bone and sucked on her skin there.  She gasped in pleasure as he left mark after mark, but felt a spark of annoyance when he tugged harder at her collar, trying to gain access to her breasts.

            “Astarion, stop,” she complained.  “Let me just take it off.”  He sat up to give her room to do so.

            “Sorry, darling,” he purred, watching her lustfully as she peeled her shirt and undergarment off.

            “Happy now?” she asked teasingly, arching her back a little as she leaned on her elbows to put her breasts on display.

            “Very,” he said, but made no move to continue.  She pouted.

            “Don’t tell me you’ve lost the mood,” she whined and then felt bad.  She knew he had difficulty with intimacy sometimes.  He hadn’t appeared to be disassociating, but sometimes he hid it well.  “It’s okay if you did.  We can just…”  He cut her off with a kiss.

            “I haven’t lost the mood,” he replied with a smile.  “I just wat to try something.  I was wondering how to bring it up.”  She smiled lasciviously at him, and leaned up for another kiss.  He happily returned it and she rolled him over so he was on his back and she straddled his waist.

            “Just ask me,” she murmured softly, tugging gently at an errant, white curl.

            “How do you feel about being tied up…”

            “I’m fine with that as long as you use the silk rope,” she said eagerly.  He gave her an amused smile.

            “And what about being blindfolded?” he asked.  “Are you okay with that?”  She blinked in surprise and shifted off him so she could lie by his side.  He turned to face her, brushing a strand of black-brown hair from her face.

            “Will you take it off if it doesn’t go over well?” she asked.  “I’ve done blindfolds before, but it was a long time ago.  Before…well, before things happened.”

            “If you don’t like it, I will take it off immediately,” Astarion assured her.  She thought about it for another moment and then nodded.

            “Okay.  We can try it,” she agreed and then leaned in for another kiss.  Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist and then maneuvered her to the other side of the bed.  He then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a strip of black fabric.  He held it out for her to inspect for a moment, and then, when she nodded, gently placed it over her eyes and tied the ends of the fabric together behind her head.

            “Can you see anything?” he asked.

            “No,” she said after a moment.  “There’s not even light getting through.”

            “Are you all right?” he asked.  “Do you want to continue?”

            “Yes.  I don’t think this is going to be a problem,” she said.  She was only feeling anticipation.  The fabric wasn’t triggering any memories of being pushed up against a dirt wall, even though her vision was just as impeded.

            “Let me know if it does,” he told her.  “Now, hold out your arms.”  She smiled at the firm tone in his voice and did as he asked, holding both out in front of herself.  He moved her arms and tied her wrists together with the silk rope they’d bought.  He then tied the other end to a bedpost.  She went to give an experimental tug and raised her eyebrows when she felt almost no resistance.

            “There’s not a lot of restriction in the rope, Astarion,” she said.

            “Good,” he replied.  “I want to be able to maneuver you.”  She snorted.

            “So, you intend on man-handling me?” she replied.

            “Darling, I intend on doing whatever I want to you,” he purred.  She opened her mouth to quip back, but he captured her with a kiss.  He then nipped and kissed his way down her throat before sucking a nipple into his mouth.  She keened and arched her back, pushing her breast further into his mouth.  The loss of her sight made her other senses stronger.  The nerves in the breast he was administrating to were on fire and she could feel the ache in the other as her nipple peaked.  She could feel absolutely everywhere he touched her, and she could hear him suckling her too.  Every moan from him sent heat down between her legs and she started to buck her hips up, looking for friction.

            She felt him smiled around her breast and the he released it before latching on to the other.  One of his hands traced idle designs along her hip, but he made no move to touch her where she wanted him.  His mouth left her breast and trailed sloppy, wet kisses down her abdomen.  He then quickly tore off her pants and undergarment before he ran his tongue along the seam where thigh met hip and then bit gently at her hip, not breaking the skin.  He never broke the skin.  Usually, she was relieved he stuck to that agreement, but she felt disappointed today.  She opened her mouth to ask him to bite her, but stopped herself at the last moment, biting her lip.  That was a line she wasn’t ready or even willing to cross.

            “What is it, darling?  I can see you want to ask for something,” he purred and her heart skipped a beat.  She quickly put a firm brake on her tadpole so it couldn’t expose her lie.

            “I want you to touch me,” she insisted.  His hand ran up and down her right thigh.

            “I am touching you,” he said tickling the back of her knee.

            “You know where I mean,” she replied through a giggle.

            “I’m afraid I don’t.  You’ll have to be more specific,” he teased.  “Do you mean here?”  He danced his fingers against her calf.

            “No,” she said, smiling.

            “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully.  “What about here?”  She screamed with laughter as he began to tickle her feet.  She squirmed and thrashed on the bed, trying to pull her feet away from him, but he followed persistently.

            “No!  No!  Not there!” she cried.  “Please stop!  Please!”  He immediately moved his hand back up to her calf and pulled her leg away from the other.  She felt air on her exposed mound.

            “What about here?” he asked softly, blowing on her clit.

            “Yes.  There,” she confirmed and then jumped in shock when his hand spanked her pussy sharply.  She gasped, but he didn’t give her time to say anything as his hand came down on her again in three rapid successions.  She whimpered and his hand moved to stroke her waist gently.  She jumped when his other hand stroked her left hip.  Every touch felt so intense when she couldn’t see them coming.  She enjoyed the feel of his silky skin gliding gently over her body and then gasped at the sharp pain wherever he hit her; her breasts, her thighs, her cunt.  The burn left by the harsh treatment never seemed to fade when touch was the main sensation she could focus on. 

            Suddenly, he rolled her over onto her stomach and raised her hips in the air until she was on her knees.  Now she understood why he’d kept the rope so loose.  She jumped when he his stroked her rear and she swore she could hear him smirk.  He nipped her left cheek and then soothed the sting with his tongue.  His hand slid soothingly up her back before a sharp smack landed on the back of her thigh and she moaned.

            “Enjoying yourself, darling?” he asked amused. 

            “Touch me,” she ordered impatiently, raising her ass higher in the air, trying to entice him.  He landed a harsh slap on her right cheek and she gasped.

            “You’re being awfully demanding,” he teased.  “I’m the one in charge tonight.”

            “Touch me,” she demanded again and received three more forceful slaps in the exact same spot.  She whined and thrust her hips back towards him.  “Please.”  He snorted.

            “You want me to spank you, don’t you?” he said.  “I could.  I could spank you until every inch of your ass is bright red and feels like it’s on fire.  I could make it so you can’t sit down for a week.  Two weeks even.  Would you like me to do that to you?”

            “Please,” she begged again and then cried out when his hand slapped her so forcefully it stunned her.

            “Too bad,” he said.  “That is not what I have planned tonight,” he said and then pulled her legs further apart and lied down between them.  She cried out again when his tongue parted her folds and he began to lap at her cunt.  She thrust down onto his face, but his hands gripped her hips tightly and held her still, before they moved to her ass and squeezed, his nails digging into the abused skin.  The message was clear.  He was in charge of what she received tonight.  She whined and moaned as he slowly and thoroughly ate her out.  She felt her climax building and her thighs began to shake.  Then, just as she was about to spill over the edge, he stopped.

            “No!” she cried, gasping.  “No.  Please!  I want to cum.”

            “You’ll cum,” he told her.  “But only when I let you.”  She whined and he lowered her hips until she laid flat on the mattress.  She heard the shuffling of clothes beside her and knew he was finally removing his own apparel.  He stamped a kiss at her tailbone and then kissed his way up her spine to her neck.  He used his knee to push her thighs apart and then he slid into her soaked and needy cunt.  He moved in slowly…agonizingly slowly.  She could feel every inch of him sliding into her.  She felt one of his arms extend past her head and then felt him untie the rope from her wrists.  He didn’t give her freedom to use her arms, however.  He pinned her hands with his own on either side of her head.  He pulled back out slowly and then moved back in at the same glacial pace.

            “Faster,” she urged.

            “You’re in no position to be making demands,” he said sternly as he pulled out again.  She whined and begged as he continued at the same torturously slow pace. 

            “Please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease,” she gasped out as he moved.  He clucked his tongue.

            “What shameless behavior, Ailis,” Astarion admonished.  “You should be embarrassed.  You should be happy to accept whatever I give you.”  She whimpered and a tear leaked from behind the blindfold down her cheek.  He kissed it away.

            “Please, Astarion.  Please,” she begged.

            “Oh, all right,” he sighed, and his next thrust was much harder.  He let go of her left hand to play with her breast as he picked up his pace.  He rolled the nipple each time he thrust into her.  She felt her release building again and went to touch herself with her free hand, but he reclaimed it and pinned it with his own again.  She cried in protest.

            “You cum from this alone or you don’t cum at all, Ailis,” he said.

            “NO!  Please,” she sobbed.  His pace increased and she could tell he wouldn’t last much longer.  She tried to grind into the sheets but she couldn’t get enough friction.  “Astarion, please.  Please!  I can’t cum like this!  Please!  I need you to touch me.  Please!”  She expected him to ignore her, but his hand left hers and moved under her.  His fingers brushed her clit once, twice, and then she screamed as she went over the edge.

            When she regained her thoughts, she slowly blinked open her eyes and was surprised to find the blindfold had been removed.  She was laying on her side and Astarion had his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.  She smiled at him and cuddled closer, the fingers of her left-hand curling over his shoulder to hold him closer.  He brushed his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead.

            “How are you feeling?” he asked.

            “Never better,” she replied through a yawn and she felt him smile against her forehead.

            “Are you sure?  I didn’t go too far?  I was…well, we didn’t discuss some things.  Was I too mean?” he asked, fussing over her.  She forced herself to pull away a little so she could look him in the eyes.

            “No.  I had fun,” she assured him.  “I like it when you’re bossy.”  A wicked smile crossed his face and she knew she shouldn’t have admitted that.  She gave him a stern stare.  “Only sometimes, Astarion.  I wouldn’t try that out of the bedroom.”  He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose.  He stroked her back soothingly and she started to slip back under but she noticed he looked a little guilty.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

            “I think I went too far, Ailis,” he said.

            “You didn’t.  I said I liked it,” she soothed.

            “No.  I mean…I think I hit you too hard,” he replied.  She frowned.

            “You didn’t, Astarion,” she said.  “I liked everything you did to me.”

            “Ailis, you have a hand print on your ass,” he told her.  She immediately tried to crane her head over her shoulder to see, but she couldn’t.  She moved her hand back to her ass and hissed when her fingers touched a warm, raised patch of skin.  She could feel it had raised into a welt in some places and it even felt hot to the touch. 

            “Ouch,” she replied, a little shocked and then she laughed.  Astarion looked surprised for a moment and then he laughed too. 

            “I’m sorry, darling,” he said after a moment when they’d both stopped laughing.

            “It’s okay,” she said.  “I like having your marks on me.”  He groaned and buried his face in her shoulder for a moment before looking back at her face.

            “Let me grab a healing potion for you,” he said and started to get up but she wrapped her limbs around him and held him to her.

            “No,” she said.  “I want to feel it.”

            “Ailis…”

            “Please,” she insisted and he sighed. 

            “All right,” he relented.  “But you’re the one who’s explaining to the others why you can’t sit down tomorrow.”  She smiled and burrowed further against his chest.  His arms came back around her and began stroking her back.  She fell asleep in the safe haven of his arms. 

[qsmp-a1-updates]

I wanted to do more tasks so here goes, btw I have named the little robot crow guy from earlier Update, I'm keeping them, and they're gonna be the character I use for interacting with A1 and maybe sometimes you guys. I thought of some fun character and story details about them, they're a robotic crow brought to life who is sort of an outlet of whatever canon group chat we have to talk to each other. Update automatically downloads every message sent and repeats it.

Update is not necessarily "me," just an OC I wanted to make for this project because I don't really like writing directly about myself, but I wanted to practice some light sweet writing since I haven't done that in a bit.

(Writing and lyrics below, this song had been stuck in my head all day yesterday so this was wonderful timing)

Sing to the baby a lullaby in another language.

This wouldn't be hard for Update, if they wanted to make it quick. Two days ago, they had been sent songs all day, in many different languages. All they would have to do is simply upload one, play it again, and that task would be done.

But looking at the little egg watching them curiously, Update didn't want to make it that simple. Aine had never heard music before meeting their new family, and by now they already heard every song that Update had downloaded.

Besides, Update had a new song in mind.

"Lullaby?" Update confirmed, waiting for Afon to settle down and nod to show they were ready.

After a second, Update closed their eyes and began in their own voice - electronic, but as gentle as they could make it.

"Vem kan segla förutan vind?

Vem kan ro utan åror?

Vem kan skiljas från vännen sin

utan att fälla tårar?"

Update opened one eye for a moment to see Aimée's reaction. The little egg was leaning forward slightly. They didn't place a sign - Update often spoke for themselves more through silent actions than words so Icarus often did the same for them - but Update could tell they were listening.

Update smiled and closed their eyes again to finish.

"Jag kan segla förutan vind.

Jag kan ro utan åror.

Men ej skiljas från vännen min

utan att fälla tårar."

Update opened their eyes to wrap one wing around Aili, who was looking at the ground. "You are so strong. You can do everything you ever will dream of. But you always need love too."

Update rested their beak on Anahí's head as the egg leaned into their plated wing. "So many people love you. You will always be loved."

Yes I used at least 6 different names, I choose no single name I choose all of them :) Update hears from all of you who offered names from so many different cultures, how could they just choose one for our child?

[lostsbooks]

Hello! This will be my writing blog from here on out. Call me Lost or Aili (Eye-lee). My main blog is @lost-islands and my art blog is @lost-draws.

All my writing can also be found at my Wattpad or my Ao3 Account. Ask any questions you like about my writing through DM or in the notes, I'm always happy to talk.

A lot of my headcanons were inspired by the wonderful @weirdestarrow. Mostly to do with wider world building and a wider range of characters outside my personal interests.

This will hopefully grow in time but I'm happy to finally be here!

The Lost Republic Masterpost

Oneshot Table of Contents · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Countryhuman Oneshots

Siblings and Secrets

At the End of it All

Finding Lost Roots

Trust Fall

Cannon Thief

Rememberances

An Old Man's Winter Night

The Crowning of Pepper the Puppy

Lakes and Mistakes

Paintings and Primroses

The Frozen State (Co-written by @Weirdestarrow)

[Archive Oneshot] Michigan's experiences of 1812

[iateyourcatnom]

About Aili's outfit

(And why she's Buddhist now)

Hi hi!

It has come to my knowledge that Aili's outfit is not completely wrong, but isn't vetted either. When muslims do show reveling clothing (which is not often) they don't wear a hijab, they leave their hair out, like in @kairasims's post, with the suit. When they do wear a hijab they are expected to give full covering, because of their religious beliefs and value's.

I won't be taking my post down though, I'll simply edit her more in cas later today, and adjust her fit.

Another thing is, I'm changing her to a buddhist because I don't feel completely comfortable making muslims sims, as I do not know that much on the subject.

I'm sorry if I inconvieneced anyone in any way, and also, I checked google this time, buddhist's wear head-coverings or hijabs when their sick so let's just go with she was a little sick in that post.

Sorry if this came out rude or mean, this was an absolute nightmare of an experience for me and I do not wish for it to happen ever again. If you think it's rude or insulting of me to not make muslim sims, i'm sorry for that, I just do not feel comfortable on the subject of creating a sim that I do not fully understand their culture and religion.

You might be thinking; Just do your research! I did and the internet on the topic of islam is not completely trustworthy or vetted, it's also really confusing for me.

If you're still angry about the situation, then please don't write anything mean on my blog, attack me, or just be overall rude in anyway, take your bad vibes somewhere else.

Thanks for understanding, sorry for the inconvience and the lack of appropriate cultural representation!

[wuornosblog]

5-23-92 pt.2

What the hell do you think your doing to my brother Keith Wuornos . . . And I was yellin. But I didnt care. He said. I’m sorry that your brother has caught this disease. And we were trying all kinds of experiments to save his life. Bullshit I said. He’s already explained the genuee pig jazz to me. Go on in there, as I was pointing to his room. And tell him he’s dying. Man! You fucking bastard. I hope we get a chance to sue the fuck outta you. And turned around and walked off. When I got back to the room. Keith heard everything. But he didnt bicker on it. So he was glad I knew then that I told an army personnel off. ha ha ha! . . . He said I know how you getting your money Aili. I know your husseling. And I want you to stop it. I’m leaving you. . . 10,000 dollars in a benneficary. I said I wont take it Keith. I dont want your money . . . I just want you to live . . . Anyway I stayed three days visiting him. He said I was the only one who’d come to see him in nearly 8 months now. This broke my heart. So I told him. I’d come more often. When I could. Four months later when I was really doing good hooking, wanting to rent out an apartment in San Francisco so I could be near him. They transferred him then to Ann Arbor medical center. Screwing up my plans. So I hitched from Florida . . . now. Ducky, I think you, and others where dropping in. So I didnt have to worry about his spirits as much . . . I just thought I’d lay this story on you. Many many of them. I bet you’ve got alot of them too. So you see that’s why I’m writing so much. old friend! OK Gotta Go Love Lee

[reneesbooks]

@lena-rambles u bet ur butt i'm willing to share my unnecessarily elaborate calendar that nearly broke my brain

So Raedora's calendar is based on the cycle of the silver moon, which is one of three moons in their world. In the Raedoran belief system, the three moons are three deity-like beings who make sure the world runs smoothly while the gods deal with the affairs of mortals. The silver moon controls magic, the blue moon controls skill, and the red moon controls compassion. There's a lot of other cultural significance to the moons which is why my brain would not let me continue working on the actual story until i had hammered out the calendar

unnecessary additional worldbuilding fact--in neighboring Fierodia, the moons are believed to be the three eyes of their god instead

there are 336 days in the Raedoran year, 7 months of 48 days each that follow the cycle of the silver moon. the seven months are named after seven of the Raedoran gods. in order, they are Talamh (goddess of the earth), Seisyll (god of the home), Hyklios (god of education), Tidon (god of judgement), Isena (goddess of agriculture), Cadeyrn (god of war), and Ailis (goddess of health). Winters are very short in Raedora and occur during the month of Cadeyrn and the majority of Ailis. Spring occurs from Talamh to Seisyll, summer is from Hyklios to about halfway through Tidon (reaching its peak at the beginning of the month bc the people who made this calendar had a sense of humor) and the rest of Tidon and Isena make up the harvest season/fall. there are more gods in the Raedoran pantheon than just these seven but that's its own separate post

there are 6 days in a Raedoran week, with 2-day weekends and 8-week months. The silver moon is full halfway through the month, so it isn't uncommon for each month to be broken into "waxing" and "waning" periods to make timekeeping easier. The weekends are also based on the phases of the silver moon--they take place after a major phase (full, new, half, etc.) and were traditionally time for witches to rest after performing major spells with the silver moon's power. As magic became less common in Raedoran society over time, this slowly faded into a general cultural attitude towards rest on those two days.

here's where it gets complicated: the three moons are never full on the same night, but once every 110 years or so, they are all new on the same night. it's known as a triple new moon and is considered very bad juju. there's a character in lacuna that we haven't met yet who was born on the triple new moon and as a result was left in the street to die as a baby. lot of superstitions around that night. the math was figuring out how that would happen and how often it would happen. but once i had that date set I could calculate out the phases of the other two moons, which have 31- and 25-day cycles (red and blue respectively) so that I could figure out when they would be full/new/half/etc. (non-sponsored recommending campfire writing for this bc it saves you the math. did not discover this until too late) and then I could easily reference the calendar to make sure that the moon phases and the plot events were lining up since i went and tied my entire magic system to the complicated moon cycles

all of this to say that jack's birthday is actually the most important date on the raedoran calendar bc without it i would have no idea when anything happens. thanks street rat king <3

[chaosintheavenue]

Design Doc 12: Hoover Dam

Chaos's obsession level: 1/3

There was still a Battle of Hoover Dam between Caesar's Legion and the NCR, but it's not framed anywhere near as important and consequence-ridden as it was in NV.

3-Some Caravan Company is here! I freaking love those guys.

Because I was exposed to NV first, I can firmly say that my brain will never, never accept that McLafferty's first name was supposed to be Ailis.

Otto Steeeeeed.

Looking at the general map of the dam, and I actually think I recognise the locations of buildings that were used in Arizona Killer/You'll Know It When It Happens. Might be misremembering, though.

Holy shit, slowly coming to the realisation that I barely know anything about VB!Hoover Dam. Probably because I knew from the outset that I wouldn't be including it in my iteration of VB lore, but still.

'A lovely receptionist behind the desk eager to greet the player in a foul-mouthed, military manner'- there's a running theme of VB location greeters giving amazing first impressions.

More 3-Some stuff here.

Crimson Caravan are secretly supplying both the NCR and BoS (who in VB are actively at war) with weapons. Can't say that's a surprise.

Followers of the Apocalypse are getting involved, apparently under the name 'Children of the Apocalypse'. I'm inclined to believe that name is a goof rather than a genuine subgroup.

Hoover Sabotage mentioned.

Fantastic real estate advertising: 'It comes completely furnished with the latest wasteland furniture and has a fine view of the toxic lake. On special evenings, one can look out on the lake and see horrible lake monsters fighting to the death. Romance doesn't get hotter than this'.

The designer left a comment that a specific NPC wasn't intended to have any associated quests, but might still be given some in future depending on how much the designer enjoyed writing their dialogue. Very relatable sentiment lol.

Okay, so this isn't news to me, but I just feel the need to acknowledge that a total dipshit of a Prisoner could have had the option to blow up Hoover Dam.

Trogs? Trogs. They're a far cry from the Pitt creechers, but AFAIK this is the first use of the name within Fallout.

Pig rats return.

There seems to be confusion over whether one of the Giordano triplets is named Carlo or Guido.

Once again, a lot of NPCs cropping up that I've never heard of in my life.

Van Graffs appearing again. And we have a namedrop of Jean-Baptiste Cutting specifically referenced as a prisoner (he was one of Josh Sawyer's player characters in the internal PnP edition).

Otto!

I legitimately forgot that Mallet McBride was here (in my canon he's found on the Strip) and got semi-jumpscared when I saw his name.

There's a quest to teach a school class on wasteland survival that seems very close to the one that wound up in Fallout 4.

The player could fix up and use the lab here? Neat.

[streetlamp-amber]

can we just stay in bed? (18+)

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 2.8k | divider by @cafekitsune | requests are open!

CW: smut (MDNI), p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), soft sex NOTES: i usually don’t write soft smut like this so i don’t really know if i’m 100% satisfied with this or not but i still wanted to share, let me know your thoughts :)

The joyful singing of the birds in the forest surrounding Wayne Manor could be heard from miles away as the sun was rising over the treetops, marking the beginning of a new day in Gotham. A lone ray of sunshine made its way through the gap between the two curtains hung over the window of you and Bruce's bedroom, illuminating the darkness with a soft golden glow.

Today was Saturday, meaning you didn't have work waiting for you or school to drive Dick and Jason to. The only plan on the schedule this morning was to sleep in, even for Alfred.

But your husband had other plans.

Bruce woke up on his own, his body was now used to being up early to make sure the boys had completed all of their homework before dropping them off at school. He was laying on his back with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, your hot breath fanning over his skin at a gentle rhythm while your arm and leg were hooked around him, keeping your body flushed against his. A grateful, satisfied smile formed on Bruce’s lips as he hugged you closer to him and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He loved waking up with you in his arms, it was his favourite part of the day – when all his worries about Gotham were still dormant in the back of his mind, when he could bask in the peacefulness of the morning with your steady breathing reminding him how lucky he was that you were so much of a hothead, you had him pull over on the side of the road to reprimand his reckless driving when he almost rear ended your car. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, because your anger and your indifference to his celebrity status had already caught his heart right then and there, the fact that you were breathtakingly beautiful was only a plus. Six years had passed since then and Bruce had tried his best to remain on your good side in that time, but it happened sometimes that you let out your anger on him – like when he let Dick patrol with him for the first time. He found that he was still as captivated and enamoured with you as he was when the two of you first met, you’re just so hot when you’re angry, he can’t help it.

Overcome with the love he held for you, Bruce started peppering soft, barely-there kisses on your cheek, your nose, your jaw and your neck, moving you to lay on your back as he did so for him to have better access to your skin. His gentle touches pulled you out of your slumber and you stretched out your limbs, your husband never relenting with his affections.

“Good morning, my love,” Bruce whispered in between kisses on your throat.

You giggled, the softness of his lips tickling you. “Good morning,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck while his held you tight under your back. You turned your head to glance at the digital clock on your bedside table, noticing the time displayed in red light. “Isn’t it too early to be awake on a Saturday morning?”

“What time is it?” Bruce asked as he comfortably laid on you, his face now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Ten past seven,” you answered, your hands finding their way to your husband’s hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft waves and you felt him hum in satisfaction against you.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” he weakly argued, eyes closing as your scent comforted him.

“Bruce, I can literally feel your breathing slowing down like it does when you fall asleep,” you chuckled.

“Then we should do something to stay awake and enjoy these minutes of peace we have that are oh so rare,” Bruce suggested with an impish tone.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, “we haven't made blueberry waffles in quite some time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stood up above you, trapping you under his body with his elbows resting on both sides of your head. “Can we just stay in bed?” He asked, his crooked grin on his lips as he leaned down, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“And do what?” You feigned innocence, but your husband knew you too well – he had known you for more than six years after all, he liked to think he knew you more than he knew himself – and the mischievousness in your eyes didn't go past him.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” Bruce said before claiming your lips with his. You breathed a sigh of relief that he absorbed and he placed himself in between your legs.

He stood up after a minute for the both of you to get some air and teasingly tugged at the hem of your shirt (which really was one of his old Princeton shirts from his university days). “I think it's not fair I’m the only one who's bare chest,” he said, raising the shirt just above your bellybutton.

“I think you make a compelling argument, Mr. Wayne,” you playfully agreed then removed said shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Bruce didn’t waste any second, immediately peppering your chest with kisses the moment your skin was freed from your clothes. You relaxed into your pillow, enjoying the attention your husband was giving to every inch of your body. He took his time to savour your taste and you let him. There was no rushing this morning, only the two of you in your bubble of love where time and the outside world didn’t exist.

He nipped his teeth all over your chest, leaving soft bite marks in his trail, and sucked on your nipples, his hand massaging your boob his mouth wasn’t currently attached to.

“Bruce…” You mewled after he spent five minutes on each of your breasts, only now beginning his slow descent down your stomach. Ten minutes of working you up had you now very impatient and wanting for more.

“Patience, my love,” Bruce said against your skin, getting closer to where you needed him most. “We’re taking it slow this morning, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Mmm, I know of two certain boys who will be knocking at our door in less than an hour to see if you’re awake so you can watch the morning cartoons with them,” you argued, raising up your hips when he started leaving kisses on the inside of your right thigh.

“That won’t be a problem,” your husband reassured you before claiming your clit in his mouth, making you squeal in surprise. “Good thing I had the walls of our bedroom soundproofed,” he paused his sucking on your bundle of nerves to tease you with a grin on his shiny lips.

You glared at him, unamused, which made him chuckle at your cute face and he quickly kissed your thigh before going back to his previous task. He lapped the slick in between your folds like a man who had spent fourteen days in the desert and was drinking water for the first time. His tongue teased your entrance before diving in, grunting in pleasure when your hips bucked up closer to him, making his nose brush against your clit. Bruce could never get tired of you, of your taste, of the sounds you made because of him. It spurred him on and for the time being, his only purpose in life was to satisfy you.

He couldn’t even begin to explain the control you had over him, the way you guided him through this life like a lighthouse in a storm. He was putty in your hands, has been ever since the two of you met, and he knew very well how lost he would be without you. Yeah, he would be financially secured thanks to his family, but in every other aspect of his life, even as Batman, he wouldn’t be who he was today without you. And Bruce, who had never really been good at vocally expressing his feelings, would let you know how thankful he was to have you in his life the way he knew best: by pleasuring you to completion like no other person ever has before because no one has taken the time to learn every single reaction of your body like he had.

“Bruce…” you whined as your hand tugged at his hair. You needed more, you needed more than just his tongue inside of you so you pulled him up by the head, bringing him to your level, and attached your lips to his, tasting yourself on him, while your legs wound around his waist. You felt his hard cock brushing against your center through the fabric of his boxers and jolted at the slight pressure applied on your clitoris.

The two of you slowly and messily made out, Bruce’s right hand holding your cheek and his left one clutching onto your hip. Your hands had found their way to the waistband of his boxers, trying to pull them down to get what you wanted. Bruce helped you, his left hand leaving your hip to remove the only item of clothing still on, his mouth never detaching from yours as he did so.

Once fully nude, Bruce retracted from you, standing on his knees before dipping his fingers between your folds to gather some of your wetness and rub it over his dick. You watched him with anticipation, the sight before you something you could never get tired of. Your husband was straight out of a dream and, still to this day, you’d pinch yourself sometimes to make sure you were awake, that this was your life.

That somehow, Bruce Wayne fell in love with you.

But he was also so different from how he presented himself to the media, to the public, that sometimes you forgot you married the Bruce Wayne, heir to the powerful Wayne family, prince of Gotham. To you, he was just your silly husband who was incredibly hot and put everybody else before him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bruce brushed the tip of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “I hope I’m not too much of a bore, darling,” he said, a teasing undertone lacing his words.

“No, just admiring the view and how lucky I am that my husband is so damn hot,” you replied playfully though there were no lies to your answer.

“Clearly you haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror lately babe because I’m the lucky one,” Bruce told you, his eyes confidently holding yours to show how truthful he was. He lined himself with your entrance, his stare never leaving your face so that he could drink in your expressions when he sheathed himself to the hilt inside you.

The two of you groaned in pleasure and Bruce took a moment to bask in your warmth, his eyes roaming all over you.

“Especially when you look so goddamn gorgeous with my cock inside you,” he added onto his previous comment, making you roll your eyes at the machoness of his words.

“Shut up and start moving already,” you chuckled.

“As you wish, my darling,” he leaned down to kiss you again and started rolling his hips to a slow, steady pace.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands found their place at his nape, scratching his scalp and tugging his hair, making him moan in your mouth. Your tongues danced to the same rhythm as Bruce’s thrusts, the both of you drowning in the feeling of the other.

Sex with Bruce was usually more rapid, more frantic, more bruising, more fiery, and you loved it. You loved how he could make you forget about the gala happening right down the hallway and the handprints he’d unconsciously leave on your hips from his grip. But you also loved when sex with Bruce was languid with no hurry. When one made you forget everything, the other basked you in love and made you feel like you were in a dream.

Bruce’s mouth left yours to trail down your cheek, then your jaw, until it found its place in the crook of your neck. He deposited open mouthed kisses all over your skin, licking it and leaving small nips on it. He easily found the pulse point behind your ear and, knowing you could easily hide that spot, started sucking on it and doubled the pleasure building inside you.

It made your breath hitch and your nails dig in his back muscles, leaving small red crescents on his skin. You felt him smile against your skin, his pride always swelled up to the reactions he was able to pull out of you.

“Mph, you feel so good darling,” Bruce groaned in your ear and kissed it. “You always do.”

“And you make me feel so good baby,” you answered, squeezing your walls around him as you said so.

Bruce’s head appeared in your eyeline again, his famous grin on his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, full of love. “I love you,” he told you.

You were about to say ‘I love you’ back but he didn’t let you, claiming your mouth with his instead to drag you in another make out session. He changed the angle of his hips at the same time and the tip of his dick brushed your G-spot, making you mewl. Bruce’s left hand fell down to the back of your right thigh, gripping it tight as he held it a little higher. It allowed him to go about one more inch further, said spot now being hit with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes,” you freed your mouth from his as your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut due to the pleasure gradually overtaking your senses.

“Look at me, darling,” Bruce asked you and you obeyed, struggling to keep your eyes open as the two of you held eye contact. “Are you close?”

He knew you were, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he still asked you the question just to be sure.

You couldn’t answer him. Your mouth was in a permanent ‘o’ shape as breathy moans escaped your lips with every thrust and you were unable to focus for more than one second on how to speak. So you nodded your head yes.

Bruce’s hand that held your thigh let it go to instead dip between your legs, easily finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure. He proudly watched as you unravelled beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with full force. As he helped you ride it out, he reached his own climax and fell over you, but still made sure to not put his entire weight on you, as the two of you caught your breath.

Your husband removed himself from inside you and rolled over to lay next to you on his side so he could face you. “I love you,” he said again, kissing your temple covered with a sheen of sweat.

You turned to face him, your hand reaching to hold his cheek as you replied, “I love you”. You kissed him on the lips, this time short and sweet, and Bruce laid on his back so you could snuggle up against him with your head on his chest.

“You know, we should wash up before the boys come knocking on our door,” you said after a few minutes of peace.

“Can we just stay in bed for another minute?” Bruce childishly whined, his fingers brushing up and down your bare bicep.

“You're such a big baby,” you teased him, chuckling.

“Well sorry I’m a little spent from our early morning activity,” he lightheartedly argued.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, rising on your elbows to look over him. “I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll bring back with me a wet cloth for you to wash yourself and then we can cuddle and maybe go back to sleep until Dick and Jason crash through the door to drag you downstairs and watch cartoons. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds like a really good deal to me,” Bruce answered, bringing you down to peck your lips before he rested his hands behind his head. “You should come down to the tower next time we’re looking to make a deal with another company.”

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine with leaving all that work to you,” you pecked his lips once again and stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said behind your shoulder as you walked towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Bruce didn’t hear you, too preoccupied with staring at your ass to focus on anything else. God, I’m the luckiest man in all of Gotham, he thought to himself before you disappeared through the door frame.

[lillotte17]

The Music Room

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS‼- Do Not Read unless you have completed the Dread Wolf's Regrets quest!!!!

AN: I have not finished the game, so I don't know if this will actually be part of my canon yet, but the world is currently awful and I...needed to be making something. But as I said: I have NOT finished the game yet, so if you leave a comment (pls and thank) do NOT write anything with spoilers in it!!!

Okay, on with the show!

~

Rill finds Inquisitor Lavellan sitting at the harpsichord in the music room. All of the other rooms at the Lighthouse had seemed barren when they had first started using it as their base, and even this one had apparently been used as some sort of storage space -there was an alarming amount of cheese for some reason- but the quiet here feels different in a way that is hard to quantify. Peaceful, as opposed to desolate. The light pouring through the windows is always bright in here. Always warm. The murals on the walls were still vivid when they came. Colorful and new. The most prominent one bears the symbol of the Inquisition flanked by howling wolves.

The woman contemplating it does not look like the fearsome hero who closed a hole in the sky and stopped the southern half of the world from falling into chaos, though. She looks small. And tired. And sad.

Rill clears her throat, feeling awkward.

“So. Not trying to complain or anything, but when you asked to come here, you did say that you could help by giving us insight into Solas’ history and his way of thinking and… Well. You were pretty quiet in there while we watched those memories.”

“I know,” Aili sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I knew some of it. Bits of things he told me himself. Things I figured out…afterwards. And I knew there would be more. More I didn’t know. He’s thousands of years old, so I knew that the story of his life would be more than what he had told me, but…”

“It’s a lot.” Rill hums in agreement.

“Bit of an understatement,” Aili snorts. Her gaze drifts down, and she runs her fingers over the instrument in front of her. “…I didn’t even know he played.”

“So, tell me what you do know,” Rill says, casually plopping down onto a nearby crate, “It’s probably more helpful than you think.”

“I know… I know that he hates tea.”

“Right. Noted. Probably shouldn’t offer him any of Lucanis’ coffee either, then.” Rill grins, folding her arms across her chest.

“Probably not,” Aili agrees, returning the smile faintly. “He has a sweet tooth, though. He loves books. Loves learning. And teaching, too. He was always happy to share stories about places he had been, or spirits he had talked to. He paints beautifully. And he sketches, too. He doesn’t laugh very often, but when he does, it’s…”

She trails off, her face creased with grief and faint traces of longing.

“I’m sorry.”  She says again.

Rill shakes her head at the apology but gives her a curious look afterwards.

“You said that Solas was important to you; I’m guessing you didn’t mean that you were just really good friends?”

Aili shrugs.

“I thought that we were…something.” She glances around the room again, eyes landing on the mural of the slain dragon and the mourning wolf above it. “Now I’m not sure if even that was true.”

“Is that something he would lie about?” Rill wonders, her eyebrows ticking upwards, “Because that would be some valuable insight. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to use seduction as a manipulation tactic, but he seems comfortable twisting the truth about everything else, so…”

Aili sits for a moment in silence, frowning in consideration before finally shaking her he in the negative.

“It’s… No.” She fumbles briefly. “I know that given…given everything we’ve seen, it might be hard to believe, but… He has a kind heart. Truly. He wants to do the right thing. He believes in justice, and he wants things to be fair. He wants to help people when he sees them suffering. And he blames himself when he can’t. He just…comes to the wrong conclusions, sometimes, and he struggles to ask for help when he needs it. He… There would be no reason to -no point- in lying about his feelings for me. I was already his friend, and I took his advice seriously. He had my ear and my protection. He wouldn’t get anything out of it unless his intention was to be needlessly cruel, and…he’s not like that. He isn’t.”

“Then why were you doubting that you had something?”

“It’s…complicated.” Aili sighs. “It’s about time, I think. Or at least, part of it is. He feels things deeply. Passionately. Even if you can’t tell which words he’s telling you are true, you can always tell when something matters to him. And this place… Mythal is everywhere. In every mural. In every room. Statues. Paintings. Symbols. Everything is about her. For her. Even now. Even after taking Flemeth’s power and essentially killing her himself. His love for her, whatever shape or form it might have had, has colored every aspect of his life since the beginning of the world. And compared to that…”

She taps a single key on the harpsichord, letting out a high clear note.

“Mythal is the All-Mother. The Protecter. The bright and beguiling moon. And I…I am barely a candle flame.”

“You’re the Inquisitor. The Savior of the South. People still call you the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ You disbanded the Inquisition, and still managed to bring enough people together to hold back the darkspawn hordes while I fight the gods up here in the North. I think you might be selling yourself a bit short.” Rill says with a curl of her lips, trying to be kind.

“There will always be heroes, just as there will always be despots. I’m hardly unique in that respect.” Aili replies, striking another key. “A puny mortal striking back at false gods probably reminded him of his own past. His own struggles. Maybe that was it. Maybe there’s even something about me that made him think of Mythal. I don’t know. I don’t know what he saw in me. Or thought he saw. But look around. There are a few Inquisition symbols in this room, but beyond that… There is no trace of me in this place. Nothing he held onto. Nothing he felt was worth keeping.” 

Rill frowns. Fidgeting with her hands. Itching to pull out a blade to play with, but uncertain if the move would been seen as a threat.

“Sorry.” She offers after a few moments of silence. “I try not to talk to him very often, for obvious reasons. It’s still a bit creepy, if I’m being honest. Even if I did, though, I don’t think his romantic life would be something he’d be keen to tell me about.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aili assures her with a smile that does not reach her eyes, “He wasn’t keen to tell me either.”

“The Fade’s a funny place, though,” Rill says, gesturing at their surroundings, “I’m not always sure which bits of the things we’ve found here are from Solas, and which things we brought along ourselves. Lucanis found a book he used to read as a kid. Harding says she can smell her mom’s cooking sometimes. Neve said she can hear the sea when she wakes up in the mornings. Things like that, you know?”

The Inquisitor nods.

“Not surprising, given the nature of this place and the person who built it.” Aili says. “This was a refuge. For spirits and slaves fleeing tyranny. And for Solas himself, too. It wants to be welcoming. It wants you to feel safe.”

“It was different when we got here, though.” Rill tells her. “Bit empty. Bit sad. Lonely, almost.”

“Sounds like Solas,” Aili sighs, something close to exasperated fondness.

“This room though…” Rill sits up straighter, turning her head to glance at the sunlight painting patterns on the already painted walls. “It was always like this. It may be small and tucked away, but it’s honestly one of my favorite places in the Lighthouse. It’s always a little warmer in here. The sun’s always shining through the windows. The quiet in here feels like…comfort. Like home.”

“I feel like you’re trying to lead me somewhere, but I’m not sure where it is,” Aili chuckles.

“Well, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Rill grins back at her, “This is the only room with Inquisition symbols in it.”

Aili blinks. Makes a face.

“There are also murals of Mythal in here. Because she’s everywhere.”

It is Rill’s turn to sigh.

“Maybe she is. Maybe he couldn’t escape from her. Maybe he never will. What she did. What she made him do. What was done to her. But the library with all his memories of her is big and dark and gloomy. And the statues of her are stiff and aloof and cold. And the little room upstairs he shoved a cot into to sleep is…just depressing, really.”

 She catches the older woman’s gaze. Holds it.

“It’s called the Lighthouse, but the beacon at the top isn’t where the light is. It’s not in some huge memorial room dedicated to Mythal. It’s here. There’s a chair with your seal on it, almost waiting for you to sit and watch him play. There’s the paintings on the walls. There’s… Look, when did this become me telling you about the Dread Wolf’s heart?”

“I have no idea,” Aili laughs in earnest this time.

“Really though, this is a good room. I like to sit and read by the windows in here sometimes. The light in here always makes be think of summer afternoons. The air has a sweetness to it, too. Something flowery. Heather, maybe. Or Lavender.”

Aili starts, her eyes going wide.

“What’s wrong?” Rill asks.

“You said it smells like lavender in here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s…the soap I use. For my hair. I always have.”

“Well, there you have it!” Rill grins in triumph. “He kept your memory here. Away from his regrets. Somewhere bright and happy. Well…as happy as Solas gets, anyway. Not too bad for a candle flame, eh?”

Aili laughs again.

“Thank you, Rook.”

[amandi-mga2024mi5015]

Research: Ian Hamilton Finlay

Ian Hamilton Finlay (28 October 1925 – 27 March 2006) was a Scottish poet, writer, artist and gardener.

Finlay's work is notable for a number of recurring themes: a penchant for classical writers (especially Virgil); a concern with fishing and the sea; an interest in the French Revolution; and a continual revisiting of World War II and the memento mori Latin phrase Et in Arcadia ego.

Finlay is now recognized as one of the 20th century’s most important artists. His work spans mediums and locations; frequently explores the inheritance of classical philosophy, revolutionary politics, and Western civilization; and continues to be both provocative and influential. 

Biography and works

Finlay was married twice and had two children, named Alec and Ailie. 

He suffered severely from agoraphobia.

Finlay was born in Nassau, Bahamas, to James Hamilton Finlay and his wife, Annie Pettigrew, both of Scottish descent.

He was educated at Dollar Academy in Clackmannanshire and later at Glasgow School of Art.

Finlay’s father bootlegged alcohol from Nassau into the USA until the repeal of prohibition laws in 1933.

At the age of 13, with the outbreak of WW2, he was evacuated to family in the countryside (firstly to Gartmore and then to Kirkudbright).

In 1944 he joined the British Army.

At the end of the war (1948), Finlay worked as a shepherd, before beginning to write short stories and poems, while living on Rousay, in Orkney.

Rousay became a source of inspiration for the symbolic landscapes depicted in much of his later work.

His stories were often about fishing. 

Finlay’s short stories describe rural Scottish life while displaying stylistic affinities with Russian and Scandinavian writers such as Turgenev, Chekhov and Strindberg. 

He published his first book, The Sea Bed and Other Stories, in 1958, with some of his plays broadcast on the BBC, and some stories featured in The Glasgow Herald.

His first collection of poetry, The Dancers Inherit the Party, was published in 1960

Dancers was included in its entirety in a New Directions annual a few years later.

In 1963, Finlay published Rapel, his first collection of concrete poetry (poetry in which the layout and typography of the words contributes to its overall effect), and it was as a concrete poet that he first gained wide renown.

Much of this work was issued through his own Wild Hawthorn Press, in his magazine Poor. Old. Tired. Horse.

Finlay became notable as a poet, when reducing the monostich form to one word with his concrete poems in the 1960s.

Later, Finlay began to compose poems to be inscribed into stone, incorporating these sculptures into the natural environment. This kind of 'poem-object' features in the famous garden Little Sparta that he and Sue Finlay created together in the Pentland Hills near Edinburgh. The entire garden was considered the work of art itself.

In December 2004, in a poll conducted by Scotland on Sunday, a panel of fifty artists, gallery directors and arts professionals voted Little Sparta to be the most important work of Scottish art.

His 1973 screen-print of a tank camouflaged in a leaf pattern, Arcadia, referring to the Utopian Arcadia of poetry and art, is described by the Tate as drawing "an ironic parallel between this idea of a natural paradise and the camouflage patterns on a tank."

Finlay's use of Nazi imagery in one of his works led to an accusation of neo-Nazi sympathies and antisemitism. Finlay sued a Paris magazine which had made such accusations, and was awarded nominal damages of one franc. The stress of this situation brought about the separation between Finlay and his wife Sue.

Finlay has been nominated for and has won multiple awards for his art.

At the end of his life, as his agoraphobia waned, Finlay began to travel away from Little Sparta.

He suffered a stroke in the early 2000s and died in Edinburgh in 2006.

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 10: Butt Stuff?(I refuse to use the name of the actual prompt as the title)

Summary: Astarion asks to try something very specific in the bedroom. Ailis agrees even though it makes her nervous.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Lube, Enemas, Light Dom/Sub, Kissing/Gentle Kissing, Feelings Realization

Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion and we are back to the sweet and soft version.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

            Ailis went to pick up the crate of washed dishes when she felt her ass be groped.  She whirled around to give the person a piece of her mind and found Astarion smiling at her.  He was clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

            “Hello, darling,” he said and then kissed her on the cheek.  She felt her aggravation slip away, but she didn’t want to completely let him off the hook.       

            “There are nicer ways to greet me, you know,” she said tersely.

            “I disagree,” he replied.  “Any chance to touch your perfect behind must be taken.”

            “I didn’t know it was you,” she huffed.

            “I don’t think Wyll or Gale would be brave enough to try it,” Astarion said with a smirk.  “Halsin might, but you most certainly would have heard him coming.”

            “Hmm,” she hummed and bent to pick up the crate again.  Astarion beat her to it.

            “I’ll get that for you,” he said and began to lead them back towards the center of camp.

            “You’re going to help with a chore?” she said.

            “Well, I am helpful like that,” he replied and she laughed out loud.

            “What do you want, Astarion?” she asked.

            “Darling, I’m hurt!” he exclaimed, though his broad smile suggested otherwise.  “Why would you assume I’d only offer help if I want something?”

            “Maybe because I have to badger you to complete camp chores when it’s your turn,” she said.  “If you’re offering me any kind of aid, then you want something.  Spit it out, Astarion.  What do you want?”  He set the crate don and pulled her by the waist into a kiss.  She smiled against his lips and snuggled in closer to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso.  When he broke off the kiss, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face and stared into her eyes tenderly.

            “I want to try something new with you tonight.  I’m not sure if it’s something you’ve done before,” he said.  The first time he’d said that to her, she’d scoffed and insisted there wasn’t much she hadn’t tried.  She’d been rather adventurous in her youth.  Her confidence had proven to be hubris.  She’d realized quickly that Astarion had much more sexual experience than her and there was quite a lot she hadn’t tried before.  He never once made her feel bad for not knowing something and he was always patient with her if she had concerns.  So, the prospect of trying something new with him now intrigued her.

            “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation.  Astarion smiled as he noticed it and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her forehead.  She smiled.  He really wanted whatever was on his mind.

            “Have you ever tried anal sex?” he asked, doing his best to sound casual, but he was clearly anxious asking her.  Considering her racing heart nearly came to a dead stop at the question, she supposed she understood why he sounded a little hesitant.  She shouldn’t be shocked he was asking.  He’d never outright asked her before, or even said he wanted anal sex, but he’d hinted at it with words and touches.  She knew Astarion wanted in her ass.  She’d have thought, as a vampire spawn, he’d be more of a neck guy.  And right now, she really wished he was.  She wasn’t sure how she felt regarding anal sex.  She didn’t think it was wrong or anything, but the concept of it made her nervous.  That’s why she’d skirted around his hints before.  She couldn’t do that now that he’d outright asked her and was waiting on an answer.

            “No,” she said, drawing out the word.  “I haven’t.”  Astarion nodded, even though she knew he’d expected that answer.

            “Are you interested in trying it?” he asked.  He had his arms wrapped around her waist, but not so tightly she couldn’t break free of his hold.  He was giving her the choice to stay close to him or take space if she needed it.  For that reason alone, she didn’t pull away and reached up with one hand to gently tug at a white curl resting above his forehead.

            “I’m guessing you are?” she said, avoiding the question.  He smirked.  He knew what she was doing.

            “I’ve had anal sex before, Ailis.  Giving and receiving.  You know this,” he said.  She nodded.  She knew.  “I would like to try it with you, but I’m not sure how you feel about it, other than that it clearly makes you nervous.  Are you at all interested?”  She squirmed and tried to think of a way to divert the conversation, but her mind stayed blank.  She glanced at his expectant gaze and sighed.

            “I’ve never considered it before,” she said.  He didn’t look surprised.

            “Are you willing to consider it now?” he asked softly, running a hand gently up and down her back, trying to ease her tension.  She hesitated.

            “Won’t it be painful?” she asked, thinking about where his dick would breach.  The anus wasn’t the vagina.  It wasn’t designed to have anything go up it.

            “There may be some pain,” he admitted, “but with proper prep it shouldn’t be unbearable.”  She pursed her lips as she thought about it.  “Ailis.”  She glanced back at his face.  “Do you really think I’d suggest something that would cause you tremendous pain?”  That questioned settled it for her.

            “No,” she said.  “I don’t.  All right.  We can try it.”  He smiled widely at her and pulled her in closer for a kiss.

            “Meet me at our spot in fifteen minutes,” he told her and then hurried off.  She smiled fondly at his retreating figure until her eyes landed on the crate of clean plates. 

            “What an asshole,” she sighed, and grabbed the crate and headed back to camp.

            Fifteen minutes later, Ailis stepped into the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn that she and Astarion had essentially made their hook up spot.  He was already there, pulling a clean sheet over the mattress.  She saw he had supplies ready on the bedside table.  The bottle of oil didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t know what to think at the sight of the 2-liter bag attached to a tube and nozzle.

            “Hello, darling,” Astarion greeted her as he approached.  He pulled her into a kiss.  “Ready?”

            “I guess.  I’m nervous,” she admitted.  He gave her a soft smile and kissed her forehead.

            “That’s understandable, but you’re with a professional,” he said.  “I’ll make this a good experience for you.”  She smiled and leaned into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  His own wrapped around her torso and he squeezed her tightly against him.  He kissed the crown of her head and they stayed that way for a moment, both enjoying the other’s presence.

            “Okay,” she said, pulling a way.  “Let’s get started.”  His lips quirked up in an amused smile.

            “All right,” he agreed and lifted the 2-liter bag of water up off the nightstand.  “Let’s get started on the prep work.  Do you know what this is?”  She was about to shake her head, but then paled as realization hit her. 

            “Is that an enema?” she asked appalled.  Astarion put down the enema bag on the bed.

            “It is,” he said evenly.  She could tell her was trying to keep her from freaking out, but also giving her space to have an honest reaction.  That was probably the only reason why she didn’t flee immediately.

            “Why do you have that?” she asked.

            “It’s part of the prep.  Anal sex can be messy.  Taking an enema first can fix that problem,” he explained.

            “So, you want me to…” She broke off.  She couldn’t finish that sentence.  “Is it really necessary?”

            “It is for me,” he said.  “I’ve had to deal with the mess before and it’s never been my choice.  I won’t do this without you taking the enema.”  His voice was firm, but he wasn’t arguing with her, or trying to be difficult.  He was just setting a boundary.  But his boundary was pushing at one of her own.

            “I…” She didn’t really know what to say.

            “Ailis, have you ever had an enema before?” he asked.  Her face turned tomato red.  Her instinct was to deny it, but instead she nodded, while at the same time, wrapping her arms tightly around herself in a self-soothing hug.  “I take it that it wasn’t a good experience.”  He said it softly.

            “It was not,” she said stiffly.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I would like to understand why you are so averse to it,” he replied.  “Did it cause you pain?  Were you…”

            “It was embarrassing, okay?” she snapped.  “I felt shamed over it for weeks!”  She found herself pulled into a tight hug.  She slowly felt her tension ease and she unwrapped her arms from her own torso to wind around his.

            “I’m sorry you were made to feel shame over it before,” he murmured softly in her ear.  “I don’t know who administered one to you before, an old lover or your mother, but you didn’t deserve to be made to feel bad over it.”  He tipped her chin up to make eye contact with her.  “I promise I won’t do that to you.  We’ll get it done and over with and move on to more enjoyable activities.  It won’t be brought up outside of here.”  She believed him, but she still hesitated.  He played with a loose strand of her hair.

            “We also don’ have to do this, Ailis,” he said.  “It’s okay if you change your mind.”

            “But you want this,” she said.

            “I do,” he said, “but not at your expense.  We can do something else that you’re more comfortable with.”  She buried her face in his chest and he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back and stamped an occasional kiss to the top of her head.  She sighed after a moment and pulled back.

            “How do you need me positioned to administer it?” she asked.

            “You’re certain, Ailis?” he asked and she nodded.  “All right, then.  Come to this side of the bed and lie on your side facing the door.  Remove your pants and undergarment first.”  She did as he directed.  He adjusted her to be centered a little closer to the middle of the bed, and then hooked the enema bag to the bedpost.  She started to roll over onto her stomach and raise her hips, but he stopped her.

            “You don’t need to get in that position, darling,” he told her softly.  He gently pushed her right leg up until her knee was parallel to her chest.  She saw him reach for the oil and knew he was putting some on the nozzle.  She jumped when he fingers spread some oil around her entrance, and then tensed when she felt the nozzle nudge at it.

            “I need you to relax,” Astarion said soothingly.  “Take a deep breath for me.”  She did as he said and felt some of her tension ease from her.  At the same moment, she felt the nozzle slide into her and she made a face.  It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable.  And if this was uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how his dick would feel.  Her thoughts broke off from that though, when she felt water begin to flow into her.  She flinched and Astarion immediately climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest while murmuring words of encouragement in her ear.  She tried to focus on the words he was saying, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the odd sensation of watering flowing into her.  Her stomach began to feel full and tight and suddenly a cramp ripped across her lower abdomen.  She whimpered, and the flow of water stopped.  

            “Cramp?” Astarion asked.  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as another rolled through her.  Astarion lowered a hand to her distended abdomen and massaged it, trying to ease the cramp.  She sucked in a few deep breaths and finally her muscles relaxed.  “That’s it.  You’re doing so well.  You only have half left.”

            “There’s still that much left?” she whined.  He kissed her cheek.

            “It’ll be over soon, Ailis,” he assured her.  She sighed, but nodded, and he unclamped the tube.  She grimaced as the water began to flow again.  She began to curl in on herself as another cramp tore at her abdomen.  She felt Astarion reach for the clamp again, but she stopped him.

            “Leave it.  I want this over with sooner rather than later,” she said through gritted teeth.

            “But you’re in pain,” he replied.

            “I’ve felt worse.  Just let it empty,” she growled.  He sighed, but left the clamp alone.  He moved his hand back to her abdomen and tried to tub out the cramp.  After another moment the water stopped.  “Is it done?”

            “Yes, but I want you to try and hold it for fifteen minutes,” he replied.

            “What?  Why?” she cried.

            “To ensure your entire system is cleared out,” he said and she groaned.

            “Fine,” she agreed sullenly.

            “Do you want me to remove the nozzle?” he asked.  “You might feel more secure with it in.”

            “No, I want it out,” she said insistently.

            “Of course, darling,” he replied and she felt him gently ease it out of her.  She immediately curled up into a ball.  He curled around her and stroked her hair.  She tried to breathe her way through cramps, but they kept increasing and it wasn’t long before she felt the urge to go.

            “How long has it been?” she asked.

            “Five minutes,” he answered.  She whined.

            “I have to go,” she complained.

            “Try to hold it a little longer, Ailis,” he told her.  “Ten minutes isn’t as long as it feels.”

            “Easy for you to say.  You’re not the one dealing with these cramps,” she grumbled.  He kissed the top of her head.

            “You’re almost done,” he assured her.  She muttered a few curses under her breath and he laughed.  She tried to focus on his hands gently stroking her wherever he touched rather than on the cramps, but she was fighting a losing battle.

            “I can’t!” she cried.  “I need to…I’m going to…”

            “All right.  It’s all right, darling.  Go,” he said and she shot off the bed and out the door.  She didn’t even take the time to slip on her pants.  She just hoped none of her companions were around to see her. 

            About twenty minutes later, she rejoined Astarion in the abandoned building.  She saw he’d cleaned up and put away the enema equipment and she felt immensely grateful to him.  He looked up at her cautiously from where he sat on the bed and held his arms out to her.  She rushed into them and he pulled her down on his lap for comfort.  She buried her face in his neck and he held her tightly as he began to rock her.  It wasn’t long before she felt her nerves were soothed and she remembered why she’d agreed to that particular prep work.  And although she still felt nervous over it, she decided to move the night forward.

            She stamped a kiss to his neck and then his jaw and then the corner of his mouth.  When he started to smile, she kissed him deeply, moving a hand up to frame his face while the other tangled in his hair at the base of his head.  He held her tighter in return.  When the kiss finally broke, she leaned back and removed her shirt and upper garment.  She reached for the base of his shirt, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. 

            “Not yet, darling,” he said and pressed a kiss to her palm.  “There’s certain logistics that need to be discussed.”

            “Such as?” she asked nervously.

            “I know you typically like to be face to face during the act, but it might be physically easier on you if I enter from behind,” he said cautiously.  She hesitated.  Since they had found their spot at the Last Light Inn, they had been able to expand upon sexual positions they enjoyed as she was less likely to be triggered looking down on a mattress than dirt that reminded her of her trauma.  That being said, her nerves were on fire.  She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of not being easily able to see his face.

            “I’m not sure,” she replied.  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” 

            “Do you think you can manage it while I prep you?” he asked.  “I’m not trying to push your boundaries, Ailis.  I just want to make this as easy on you as possible.”

            “I think I can handle that,” she said hesitantly and he kissed her again.

            “Stand up for a minute for me, darling,” he ordered and she obeyed.  She watched as he removed his shirt and then adjusted the pills on the bed.  When he had them how he wanted them, he guided her down onto the bed.  He maneuvered her so her hips rested on a pillow, raising her ass in the air.  He’d also arranged a pillow for her to hold onto if she wanted.  She wasn’t normally inclined to grasp onto her hide moans in a pillow, but tonight she thought there was a chance she’d need to.  She squeezed the pillow and tensed when she saw him take the jar of oil from the nightstand.

            “I need you to relax for me, darling,” he said, running a soothing hand up and down her spine.  “Take a few deep breaths.”  She did as he said and slowly relaxed.  She heard him uncap the bottle and then he parted her cheeks so he could access her more easily.  She stiffened again when she felt a cool, wet finger press against her puckered hole.  He pressed a kiss to the bottom of her spine and she took another deep breath as he played around her entrance, applying pressure, but not yet breaching it.  As she got used to the sensation, she finally relaxed completely and that’s when he pushed in.  She squawked at the foreign sensation as he slowly pushed into her and tensed.  She felt every groove in his finger as she clenched around it.

            “Are you all right?  Does this hurt?” he checked in.

            “It doesn’t hurt,” she replied.  “But it…it feels weird.”

            “Good weird or bad weird?” Astarion asked and she looked over her shoulder to see him grinning in amusement.  She scowled.

            “Just weird,” she replied tersely.  His free hand soothingly massaged the back of one of her thighs.

            “You’ll get used to the feeling,” he promised.  “I know if can be shocking the first time.  Now try and relax again, darling.  I can’t move without hurting you while you’re this tensed against me.”  She listened and took a few deep breaths.  This time, she also fantasized over their post-coital cuddling and her muscles eased up faster. 

            “That’s good, darling,” he praised and began to move his finger inside her.  Her brows furrowed at the strange sensation, but after a while, she did grow accustomed to his exploratory thrusts.  And it wasn’t awful.  She could feel a spark of interest between her legs, but the interest died when she felt another finger at her entrance.  He began to slide a second finger in with the first, and this time, there was pain.  She tensed and the pain sharpened as she stretched around his fingers.  She let out a sputtering gasp, and he stopped.

            “You need to relax, darling.  You’ll only make this painful if you’re this tense,” Astarion said. 

            “I tensed because it hurts,” she panted between quick breaths. 

            “It can be a little painful at first.  It shouldn’t be unbearable though.  I’ll use more oil,” he told her and removed both fingers.  She took the moment to suck in a few deep breaths and almost managed to relax before both fingers were at her entrance again.  They slowly pushed in, but even with the extra oil, there was still a slight pain from the stretch.  She focused on her breathing and tried to set her mind on a fantasy of the them together, but she couldn’t fully ignore the odd feeling of his fingers dragging against her inner walls in a part of her body she was growing more and more sure of that he didn’t belong in.

            “Tell him to stop then,” a voice inside her head said.  She opened her mouth to do so, but stopped.  This was something Astarion really wanted.  He’d asked her for this, and despite always being the one in charge of their sexual escapades, he rarely asked for anything.  She had to at least give it a fair chance, and in her opinion, two fingers were not a fair chance.  Two fingers were barely a chance at all.  So, she continued to draw in shallow breaths until his fingers were pushed fully inside her.  He stopped moving and she tried to focus her mind on anything but the ache caused by his fingers inside her.

            Thankfully, he also wanted her mind on something else.  He leaned over her and kissed her cheek.  He trailed kissed up to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.  She gasped and couldn’t help a slight thrust of her hips.  The movement caused him to move inside her, but he didn’t give her a second to think about the slight pain it caused.  He used his free hand to brush her hair off her neck and began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck.  He then moved to a shoulder blade and pressed a soft kiss to it before he bit down, though not hard enough to break skin.  This time when she thrust down, there was enough friction to tease her clit and a spike of pleasure went through her so strong that even his fingers inside her felt good and she moaned.

            She felt him smile against her shoulder, and he started to move his fingers inside her again.  There was a slight sting as he pumped and scissored her open, but she was beginning to enjoy the feeling.  She experimentally thrust her hips back towards him and groaned as his fingers sunk impossibly deeper insider her. 

            “Mmm.  Yes.  That’s it, darling,” he practically purred.

            “Harder,” she ordered and he laughed but obeyed.  He thrust harshly into her a few times and she chased after her please as she thrust into the pillow and then back on his fingers.  She let out a frustrated whine when he removed his fingers completely.  She opened her mouth to complain, but her jaw snapped shut when she felt three fingers prodding at her entrance.  She tried to remain relaxed and focus on the pleasure she’d been feeling, but she couldn’t even think to move her hips to get friction as the sharp, burning sting returned worse than ever as he stretched her wide.  She bit her lip as her eyes watered and tried to bear it, but the pain worsened the deeper he went and she whimpered, feeling a tear spill over and down her cheek.  He immediately removed his fingers. 

            “Okay, Ailis.  I’m stopping,” he said in a soothing tone.  He tried to help her roll over, but she resisted.

            “No.  I’m fine,” she said, quickly brushing the tear away.  “You can continue.”  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him frowning.

            “Ailis, you clearly don’t like this,” he said.

            “I was enjoying it a minute ago.  I just need to adjust.  Now, come on,” she urged, raising her hips up to put her ass on display, trying to tempt him back into sex.

            “Ailis, sit up,” he ordered and she sighed.  She shifted onto her side and rested her head on her hand so she could look up at him.  He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave her a soft look.  “Why are you trying to force yourself through this and why do you want me to let you?”

            “You asked to try this,” she said, frowning.

            “Yes.  And you agreed to it,” he said, “but you aren’t enjoying this.”

            “I was enjoying it a few minutes ago.  I just…”

            “You were enjoying humping against the pillow,” he said.  “You were tolerating me fingering your ass.”  She scowled.

            “I didn’t tell you to stop, so why are you?” she snapped.  “You have the go ahead.”

            “Why would I want to keep doing something you’re not enjoying?” he said.

            “You like anal sex,” she said.

            “Yes, but I like you more and you don’t,” he replied looking completely baffled by her obstinance.

            “You asked for this.  You almost never ask for anything when it comes to sex,” she cried.  “So, I need to give this a fair chance.”  He stared at her with wide eyes and tugged his hair with his hands before taking a deep and unneeded breath.

            “I think you’ve given it a fair chance, Ailis,” he said gently.

            “A few fingers aren’t a fair chance,” she argued.

            “I think it is,” he said.  Angry tears filled her eyes.

            “Well, I don’t,” she replied.  “It’s not a fair chance until you get your dick in me and actually fuck me.”  The tears spilled over.  He brushed them away before she could.

            “I think we should stop, Ailis,” he said softly.

            “No,” she refused.  He sighed, but nodded.

            “I’m only going to agree to continue if you accept my bargain, all right?” he said.

            “What bargain?” she asked.

            “If you aren’t enjoying it after I’m inside you after three thrusts, we’re putting an end to this,” he stated firmly.  “I think we should put an end to this now, but I will continue against my better judgement if you agree to this bargain.”

            “Ten thrusts,” she bargained.

            “Five,” he returned with a sigh.

            “Eight.”

            “Five, Ailis,” he said.  “No more.”

            “Fine,” she snapped.  “Five.”  She flopped back over on her stomach.  He snorted.  She waited for him to resume prepping her, but he draped himself over her back and grabbed her arm and then brought I down underneath her and settled her fingers over her core. 

            “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

            “W…what?” she said.  He pressed their entwined hands down so her fingers put pressure on her clit.  She gasped.

            “Touch yourself,” he repeated, practically growling in her ear.  She mewled and began rubbing circles over her clit.  He removed his hand as she began to work herself over.  His fingers returned to her entrance.  She hesitated for a second.  “Don’t stop, Ailis.”  She continued and he sunk one, then two fingers back inside her.  She groaned, but any discomfort she felt was outweighed by the pleasure from the attention she was giving to her clit.  He thrust his fingers in her once, then twice, and on the third thrust, she pushed her hips back to meet him.

            The next time she felt him at her entrance, three fingers breached her.  The burn returned, but she continued to play with herself and after a moment, the burn eased and she fucked herself back on his fingers as he pushed into her and scissored her open.  Suddenly, he removed all fingers and she whined in complaint.

            “Sorry, darling, but I believe you wanted a change of position,” Astarion teased, rolling her over onto her back.  She reached up for him to pull him into a kiss and he humored her.  When he pulled away, he reached for the pillow under her and tugged it until she was positioned how he wanted her, with her hips lifted up off the mattress.  He removed his pants and undergarment and she saw his thick and turgid cock and felt a spark of anxiety.  It was far larger than three fingers.

            “You’re not going to fit,” she said.  He smirked, and she could tell he was stifling a laugh.

            “I’ll fit,” he assured her.  “Are you ready?”  She wasn’t sure, but she nodded.  His cocked lined up to her entrance and began to push in.  The burn was worse than each time before.  She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, but she couldn’t help a tear from escaping.  “I can stop, Ailis.”

            “We agreed on five thrusts,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

            “But if this is unbearable for you…”

            “It’s not.  Continue,” she ordered.  He sighed.

            “Try to relax.  And keep touching yourself, Ailis.  I didn’t tell you that you could stop,” he said.  She groaned and did as he ordered, increasing pressure on her clit to combat the burn as he pushed into her until finally, he bottomed out.  She panted as she tried to adjust to him.  Astarion was large.  Even vaginally, he was a lot to take, but she didn’t think she ever felt so full as she did right now.  She used the arm she wasn’t using to pleasure herself to wrap around his waist to keep him close.  He kissed her damp cheek and then slowly began to slide out.  He pulled back only about halfway, before slowly thrusting back in.  She took a deep breath and bore another two thrusts.  On the fourth her drew back farther, and she wrapped a leg around him and pushed at him when he thrust in, forcing him somehow even deeper inside her.

            They both groaned, and Astarion stopped holding back.  He pulled all the way out, and then shoved back in.  She felt the burn of it, but the sensation was almost pleasurable now.  The next time he thrust in she pushed forward to meet him.  One of his hands found hers and forced it to the mattress by her head, and held it there gently with his own.  They kissed sloppily, though passionately as they moved together, panting into each other’s open mouths as they joined together.  Ailis felt his rhythm start to falter and knew he was about to cum.  She was nearly there herself.  Tension was building in her core.  Sparks of pleasure shooting off like electricity as she played over her clit.  Muscles in her thighs and core were twitching and she felt her cunt start to clench.  She increased the pressure on her clit and her body jerked as she went over the edge.  All thought seeped from her mind as the world around her faded. 

            When she came back to herself, she noticed Astarion had stopped moving.  He laid across her torso, and was pressing gentle kisses to her neck.  She could feel him still inside her, though he was soft now.  He’d also found release.  She lifted a hand and carded it through his now messy, white curls.  He smiled against her jugular and then pushed himself up so he could look at her face.

            “How are you feeling, darling,” he asked.  His smile was fond and relaxed, but she saw caution and worry in his eyes.  She cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him down to her for a deep and languorous kiss.

            “Never been better,” she replied when the kiss ended.  He smiled and stroked her cheek.

            “Did you like it though?” he asked.  “And don’t lie to me.  Please.”  She hesitated, and thought over her response.  She didn’t hate it, but…

            “Maybe we can relegate it to special occasions,” she said.  “When is your birthday?”  He laughed and kissed her again.  When he pulled back this time, he also pulled out of her and she winced.  He immediately moved down her body to inspect her entrance.  She grimaced as he probed a her gently for a moment.

            “No tears,” he told her.

            “I didn’t think there would be,” she said.  “You said you’d make this a good experience for me.”  He smiled and they kissed again before he rolled off of her and then pulled her back against his chest.  His arms wrapped snuggly around her.

            “Thank you for this,” he murmured in her ear.  She smiled, and snuggled back against him, trying to eliminate any space between their skin.  She started to drift off to sleep when suddenly her eyes shot open wide ad her heart began to pound against her ribcage.  The cold, icy grip of fear latched onto her as she realized what she’d been trying to suppress for weeks now.  What she felt was the absolute truth.  This was no longer a fling to her.  She loved him…and that terrified her. 

[ancient-artificer]

Picture This:

Gajevy AU

Ancient-Artificer (CapAleran2)

AN: I took a break from writing to focus on life for some years now. Life is still going, and I've grown in areas that have made me better thanks to medical intervention and some basic therapy. It's worth doing, by the way. My animals and job have taken a great deal of my time and attention. However, I can't ignore the ideas piling up in my head; I need to finally get them written down, and the urge to put them together into a fic is drawing me to write again. For me.

Storyline: White sands. Crystal blue water. Margaritas and cocktail umbrellas. It's a destination getaway for most. For Levy, it’s a vacation and her friend's wedding. For Gajeel, it's a mundane company project on site for the month. For both, it's accidently figuring out the best way to get away is to run away. Drama, romance, perhaps some comedy and a little mystery.

This first page is the playlist. You can find it along with my previous fic playlists on Spotify here:  

***

PICTURE THIS:  PLAYLIST

| I'm Good (Blue) - David Guetta, Bebe Rexha

| Drunk On A Plane - Dierks Bentley 

| Adventure Of A Lifetime - Coldplay

| Knee Deep - Zac Brown Band, Jimmy Buffet

| Mermaid - Train

| Turbulence - Coopex, VARGENTA, Aili

| Lass die Musik an - Madsen

| Supermodel - Måneskin

| She Had Me At Heads Carolina - Cole Swindell

| Celeste - Ezra Vine

| Are You With Me - Lost Frequencies

| Blaze This Weed - Ballyhoo!

| Electric Feel - MGMT

| Cruise - Florida Georgia Line

| Renegades - X Ambassadors 

| Free Animal - Foreign Air

| Neon Dreamin’ - Jade Eagleson

| Stolen Dance - Milky Chance

| Palomino Princess - Tyler Booth

| Wild As Her - Corey Kent

| Healing - The Blue Stones

| What Ifs - Kane Brown, Lauren Alaina

| Fall In Love - Bailey Zimmerman

| Greek Tragedy - The Wombats

| You Should Probably Leave - Chris Stapleton

| Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers, Coldplay

| Beers And Sunshine - Darius Rucker 

| Too Soon For Goodbye - Triston Marez

| Drunk (And I Don't Wanna Go Home) - Elle King, Miranda Lambert

| Wild One - Lucky Rose, Tep No

| Fancy Like - Walker Hayes

| Wherever You Go - Sublime With Rome

| Burning Man - Dierks Bentley 

| Drink Up - Train

| Simple - Florida Georgia Line

| Sippin’ On A Summer Wave - Sleeping Wolf

| Wish I Knew You - The Revivalists

| On My Way To You - Cody Johnson 

| Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers

| Blame It On The Double - Cory Marks, Theory of a Deadman, Jason Hook

| The Sound Of You And I - Seabird

That's all you get until I finish the first few chapters. I hope I don't disappoint. Give me a few.

Got the playlist set up for a new fic.

[brockachu]

the sedins and luongo are being inducted into the hhof on their first year of eligibility. first ballot. i’m in tears i’m not kidding. i’ve been down fucking Bad with covid for the past 4 days and today on the first day i can fucking breathe and stay conscious for more than 4 hours at a time the sedins and lu are going into the hhof i’m laughing and crying in my lil armchair i’m So Happy