#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 🥹💖

[scurvgirl]

A little early Christmas gift for my dear @lillotte17 <3 

Aili is @lillotte17, Uthvir is @feynites

Some amorphous modern AU, Rating: E

--

It made little to no sense, but there was such a thing as being too tired to sleep. A weird restlessness had invaded Aili’s body when all she very much wanted to do was sleep. Sleep here in her nice warm bed. Sleep curled up against her Vhenan. Sleep so soundly she perhaps would snore and/or drool - at this point, she just wanted to let herself blissfully slip into unconsciousness. And yet, she was awake. Endless work and worries had plagued her all week and they apparently seemed set on continuing to plague her into the night. 

Insomnia was not a problem she was used to dealing with herself. Uthvir was chronically sleep deprived and was known to be up at all hours - but even they seemed to be drifting into a sound slumber while she struggled to force herself to sleep.

It was. Not. Working. 

As carefully as possible to not disturb the usual insomniac, Aili shifted slowly away from Uthvir to make her way off the bed. Maybe if she tried the couch or let off some magic -

“You can’t sleep,” a sleep deepened voice said. Guilt flooded Aili as she turned to look at Uthvir, their face relaxed, eyes half open. 

“Don’t worry, go back to sleep,” she whispered as she attempted to scoot off the bed. 

“C’mere.” They were quick and pulled her back into bed. They shifted so that they were pressed against her, their lips pressing against the hollow under her ear. “I know a way to get you tired.” They sucked on her earlobe and she gasped. Well. If they’re not going to be sleeping, might as well. 

Uthvir’s hand moved from cupping her face to the strap of her nightgown, sliding off her shoulder and down her arm. Not content to let them do everything, Aili brought her hands up to the face and guided their mouth to hers for a deep, open mouth kiss. She made a soft noise of pleasure when they cupped her breast, fingers pinching her nipple to attention. 

They kissed her until the breath had left her lungs. Only then they moved down her body, kissing her neck, chest, sucking a nipple into their mouth. They sucked and laved until she writhed from the pleasure. They left her breast with obvious intent to mouth southward, but she reached down and guided them back to eye-level.

“I want you up here. Kiss me?” They did, long and filled with sleepy desire. Sex with Uthvir was always good, if intense with backs arching and mouths panting as they drove her pleasure higher and higher. This was different. They were slow and soft, not exactly methodical, but definitely purposeful as they caressed and kissed her. 

Uthvir slipped a hand under her nightgown and caressed her thighs, slowly dragging their nails up...up...before their fingers found her sex. 

She moaned their name into the name, earning a grin from them. Her legs fell open as they began to touch and sink into her. Their thumb circled and pressed as two fingers slowly pumped into her, making her moan and push against them. Her hands found their arms, holding on gently as they worked her higher and higher. In and out they pressed, their thumb drawing maddening circles.

“Please,” she whispered, not sure what she was asking for other than...more. They kissed her and increased speed and pressure of their hand. She mewled into their mouth, hands gripping harder, feeling the press of their fingers. It was like liquid fire coiling up from her sex into her belly, and she pressed against them. They added a third finger and it was enough to send her over the edge. She gasped, and clamped down on their hand, thrusting against them. 

Long, languid moments filled with kissing and gentle touches passed. Uthvir lifted their sex slicked fingers to their mouth and licked them clean. Drowsiness began to eek into the edges of her being but no, not yet. 

“Vhenan,” she said breathlessly, reaching for them. They knew, of course they knew. They slipped the waistband of their sweets below their hips, freeing their erection. Uthvir positioned themselves over her, the stiffness of their cock resting against her entrance. With a slow, measured thrust they entered her. The pace was slow and deliciously excruciating. They kissed throughout, eyes closed and feeling each other in all ways. Uthvir took one of her hands and lifted it above her head, extending her back just a little to allow them more leverage. They left her fingers laced with hers as they began to fuck in earnest. But...they left one of her hands free. Said hand found their exposed hip and gripped their ass, feeling it flex as they fucked. 

She approached her precipice in a slow, tidal wave of buildup before it crashed against her. A whine of aching pleasure left her as she squeezed her sheath ‘round their cock. 

“Fuck, Aili,” they crooned before quickly thrusting into her until they spilled their pleasure. 

Moments passed as they slowly regained their breaths. But they remained close to each other. And true to their word, Aili began to feel her body relax into the mattress and against them. 

“I love you,” she murmured before falling into a deep, restful slumber.

[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. 

[inbetweenhours]

So yknow sometimes you go into a project and you want to be so normal about it and that works out for the most part. And then you reach a point and it spirals perfectly out of your control.

that's what happened with Scotts family headcanons... because the way Scott of Chromia works in my head is complicated. Now, I didn't even a little bit need to draw this many people, i could have drawn him, his twin, and his parents and been fine. But I got goofy with it and am never gonna be normal about Scott's characters so here I am!

Scott the Lord of Chromia was born to a family of travelling entertainers. His mother married into the family, running away from her family in Chromia. When Ailis' father, the Lord of Chromia, passed, his lordship should have been inherited by her... but she wants nothing to do with it! Neither did Conan, leaving Scott as the only other heir. Scott had split from his family by the point this all happened, becoming an adventurer finding treasures and eventually getting his eye yoinked. Returning from that adventure he took on the lordship and settled in Chromia.

I am not writing everyone's names again, but I will have it be known that at the very least the cousins were directly inspired by various non esmp creators, you can probably guess who lol. The adults less so, but some took inspiration ;]

This much bullshit isn't happening for anyone else I promise this was a one time insanity that made so much sense to be in the moment <3

[offworldlamb-writes]

IT'S DELETED THIS TWICE NOW FROM MY DRAFTS, I'M IN TOO MUCH PAIN FOR THIS TUMBLR SORT YOUR SHIT OUT.

Silent Saturday Tag!

Rules: Write something without any dialogue, inner dialogue aka thoughts is allowed but that's it, thoughts and actions, to keep the scene/snippet/whatever you wish 'silent'

Thank you @stephtuckerauthor for the tag, I love taking part in these and if those two drafts have actually published without me realising sorry for tagging you 3 times now ;_;

An exerpt from my original fiction 3Ki gdoms WIP. After soldiers attacked the neutral capital to take something from the ancient hero Ailis' corpse and found her empty grave bed instead, the General takes her anger out on Lilla.

Everything started getting cold, and Lilla let her head fall back against the edge of the grave bed in defeat, peering up at the green and gold tapestries again. No body in the grave, an empty spot amongst the tapestries, familiar green and gold... Scoffing softly as everything started going a bit hazy around the edges Lilla couldn't believe she was jumping to such a conclusion. Was Ailis was alive? And not only was she alive, Ailis was... Keet? The body really did just get up and walk away, just not in the way Harel imagined. Did he wake up here, in the cold and dark? How long was he here for all alone, staring at those tapestries? Did he even realise what had happened to him? She didn't know how long she'd been there herself, to be fair. Because her head was so heavy she didn't move for a long while, and despite being cold her body stopped shivering at some point that could've been minutes or hours or days ago. It felt like an age before Harel spoke up, barking an order to her two soldiers, and their footsteps echoed for hours as they left the cave. Dizzyness made way for tiredness, the more it cleared from one the more the other settled in, and she knew for sure she was going to die up here. No one had any idea she was here except Keet and he was hauled off to a Wawr ship before they left. And even if he'd managed to get away from them why on Tyrr would he come up here? At one point she swore she heard her name being called in the darkness and put it down to her imagination playing a cruel trick on her, until a short eternity later another light became apparent in the room and a warm hand came to rest carefully against her neck. It took a lot of effort but she managed to open her eyes a little, and smiled weakly at Keet leaning over her. His face was twisted in distress and when he met her gaze he mumbled her name in breathless desperation-- it felt like it was the first time she'd heard him say it out loud, but that couldn't be right-- and his expression turned sad as she struggled to focus on him and anything he was saying.

At a loss for words his gaze slipped down to the sword still protruding from her stomach, and the blood already pooled underneath her. She managed to lift a hand to stay him when he started fussing, and showed him another dazed smile as she started mumbling about him waking up in this grave. His expression hardened, but then he relinquished with a sigh and a nod, promising to explain what he could when they got out of here. Bringing his MET-hand around the handle of the sword, flesh hand coming to rest on the entry wound on her stomach, he did his best to keep her concentrating enough to stay with him before starting on the wound. She understood the words that came out of his mouth but didn't quite process them, putting everything into staying awake and away from the cold trying to claw its way through her and bringing her hand over his to get his attention. She tried to tell him about what Harel said, about Ailis' mitahs drop-- his drop-- that they were after and the beast they were about to release, but his response to her delerious mumbling was to shake his head and press his fingertips to her lips, hushing softly with gentle reassurances until she stopped. Then, moving his hand back to her stomach, he shook his head against her weak arguments in response and turned his attention to his hand, brow pulled taught in concentration. It hurt to see the pain on his face but Lilla didn't have any energy left to comfort him. A reassuring pat to his hand was about all she could do before everything went a bit hazy, the cold of the cave disappearing but the warmth of his hand still there, still... somewhere. She couldn't tell where any part of her own body was right now but the warmth and the presence never left. And he talked to her, but it wasn't talking-- it wasn't words or voices, it was... strange. Like he was still alongside her but not in the physical sense, and his hand never moved but the warmth was so much deeper, protecting her insides from the cold edges of the sword. Well, he warned her about a strange feeling, but she wasn't expecting this at all. It was persistant, reassuring, but also buzzing in her face for attention, and after some deliberation she realised he was probably expecting a response. As strange as it was it was also nice, like dozing in a bed made of air. But when his hand reached out to her she reached back, and the sharp clatter of metal on stone was a sudden tug back into reality. Sucking in a deep breath she shuddered against the awful cold that sunk back in, and clung to Keet when he pulled her up off the stone, wrapping his cloak around her and holding her tight. He uttered endless, breathless reassurances as he reminded her to keep breathing slow and even, his own chest heaving as he leant heavily against the wall of the gravebed, and despite her best efforts to stay awake and make sure he was alright she couldn't stop herself from falling back into a dreamless sleep.

OKAY I'm tagging @tinknevertalks @oddsnhens @stormyrainyday @the-end-society and if you've read this far please join in and tag me, I love being involved and reading what people have to share 😊

[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!

[streetlamp-amber]

first kicks

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol

Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.

You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.

The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.

”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.

”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”

”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.

“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.

“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.

“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.

Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.

“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”

“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.

You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.

The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.

“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.

You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”

Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.

“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.

“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”

And sure enough he was right. 

“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.

“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.

“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.

“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.

“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.

“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.

You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.

“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.

You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”

“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.

Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”

“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.

“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”

“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”

A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.

“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.

“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.

“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.

“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.

You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.

“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.

Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.

“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”

“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.

You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.

“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.

You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.

“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.

“No,” you immediately said.

“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.

Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”

“Language!” You scolded him.

“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.

“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.

“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.

“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.

“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.

Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.

“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.

“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.

“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.

“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”

Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”

“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.

Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.

Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.

[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.”

[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

[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. 

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬

A/N: Another long one

𝓜𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵 𝓖𝓮𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: Mike, Mikey, Mick 

Name Meanings: Michael → Hebrew, “who is like God” ; George → Greek, “farmer” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: January 5, 2003 

Gender: Male ; he/him 

Sexuality: Pansexual 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff 

Faceclaim: Maxwell Jenkins 

Parents: Ryan O’Donnell and Penny Haywood

Sister: Winifred Ailis O’Donnell 

Godparents: Conor O’Donnell and Cara O’Donnell

Patronus: Tortoiseshell cat

Favorite Subjects: Transfiguration, potions, defense against the dark arts

Least Favorite Subjects: Astronomy, herbology

Extracurriculars: Prefect, beater on the Hufflepuff team

Hobbies: Quidditch, baking, football/soccer, rugby, cooking, music, writing

Personality: Kind, loyal, bold, impulsive, outgoing, stubborn, observant, practical, friendly, intelligent, athletic, gregarious, original, optimistic, sarcastic

About Michael: As the eldest child, Michael is a trouble magnet. He does not go seeking trouble, but somehow, he often ends up in it… usually as the result of a poorly thought out plan. This tends to happen a lot when Michael is accompanied by his cousins, Violet and Keira, who are pretty much his best friends. He enjoys spending time with his family a lot. They’re big and loud and crazy, but Michael wouldn’t trade them for anything, especially because he’s never left feeling lost or alone when he’s with them. He has a good relationship (usually) with his sister, Winifred, who he can be quite protective of. He also has good relationships with his parents, although he’s a little closer to his father than he is to his mother, but he loves them both.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Michael was sorted into Hufflepuff, just like his mother. He joined the frog choir in his first year and joined the Hufflepuff quidditch team as a beater in his fourth year before being made a prefect in his fifth year. Despite this, though, Michael often finds himself landing in detention quite a fair bit, mostly as a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time or taking the fall for one of his cousins or his sister. He loved his time at Hogwarts, finding out who he was and what he was interested in doing with his life.

After graduating, Michael started working at the Ministry of Magic, but quickly grew tired of the monotony of work that he was presented with. Therefore, Michael quit his job and began working at the reopened Fortescue’s Ice Cream Shop, where he discovered his love for working with food. Michael let this desire take over and soon he began to save in order to open up his own cafe, which he eventually succeeded in doing. 

Trivia:

Michael is bilingual, being fluent in both English and Irish Gaelic.

Michael is in a bit of a close trio with his cousins, Violet and Keira.

He is named after his grandfathers. Michael is his father’s and paternal grandfather’s middle name, while George Haywood is his maternal grandfather. 

Michael can be quite protective of his sister and younger cousins. He’s the third oldest out of the ten O’Donnell cousins, after all.  

𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓐𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: Win, Winnie, Fred

Name Meanings: Winifred → Welsh, “blessed peacemaking” ; Ailis → Irish, “noble” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: May 31, 2006

Gender: Female ; she/her 

Sexuality: Lesbian 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff 

Faceclaim: Taegen Burns

Parents: Ryan O’Donnell and Penny Haywood 

Brother: Michael George O’Donnell 

Godparents: Barnaby Lee and Sara O’Donnell

Patronus: West highland terrier

Favorite Subjects: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions 

Least Favorite Subjects: Transfiguration, history of magic 

Extracurriculars: Frog choir 

Hobbies: Gossiping, flying, pranks, running, painting 

Personality: Kind, courageous, bold, practical, outgoing, intelligent, loyal, stubborn, short-tempered, sociable, spontaneous, adventurous, reckless

About Winifred: As the youngest child, Winifred is a troublemaker and often gets into mischief, mostly due to her penchant for pranking her cousins and older brother. Despite this, Winifred is someone that can be trusted and she;s generally reliable. She takes after her mother a little more than her father. She has a good relationship with her parents, although she’s closer to her mother than her father. She’s also got a close relationship with her cousin, Brendan, who’s only a few days older than she is. In addition, she’s generally got a good relationship with her older brother, Michael, although she finds him to be obnoxious in that way that younger sisters do. 

Upon starting Hogwarts, Winifred was sorted into Gryffindor, just like her father. Unlike her brother, she didn’t join the quidditch team and she wasn’t named prefect. Instead, Winifred joined the frog choir in her first year as she found that she really enjoyed singing, even though there was no way that she would go and sing professionally. She also discovered her sexuality pretty early on in her time at Hogwarts and had her first girlfriend at the age of 14. It was a short-lived relationship, though.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Winifred went on to become a cursebreaker, following in the footsteps of her father.

Trivia:

Winifred is named after her maternal great-grandmother, Winifred Haywood, and her paternal grandmother, Ailis O’Donnell née Lynch. 

Winifred is bilingual, being fluent in both English and Irish Gaelic.

𝓚𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓚𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪-𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: None

Name Meanings: Keira → Irish, “little dark one” ; Willow → ; Khanna → Hindu, “sun” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: February 22, 2003 

Gender: Female ; she/her 

Sexuality: Bisexual 

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor 

Faceclaim: Momona Tamada 

Parents: Hana and Akio Kishi [deceased, biological] ; Cara O’Donnell and Rowan Khanna [adoptive] 

Godparents: Ryan O’Donnell and Sara O’Donnell

Patronus: Bay mare

Favorite Subjects: History of Magic, charms, transfiguration

Least Favorite Subjects: Potions, defense against the dark arts 

Extracurriculars: Prefect and headgirl 

Hobbies: Painting, gobstones

Personality: Intelligent, independent, ambitious, brave, somewhat socially awkward, creative, good-natured, kind, courageous, spontaneous, curious, disorganized 

About Keira: As an only child and an adopted one at that, Keira had always wanted to know everything about everything. She’s got an insatiable curiosity, that ranges from magical history to learning about her biological parents. She loves her adopted parents, though, and is a bit closer to Cara, although she takes after Rowan more than she does Cara. In addition, Keira loves her whole extended family. She’s the closest to Violet and Michael, as they’re the same age, but she has good relationships with all of her other cousins. I

Upon starting Hogwarts, Keira was sorted into Gryffindor after a hatstall between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. She enjoyed her time at Hogwarts, discovering that her passion for history ran deep and discovering little facts about her biological parents, like that her father had been a Gryffindor too. She never joined the quidditch team, having little interest in the sport beyond supporting her family. However, she was made a prefect in her fifth year and became head girl in her seventh year. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Keira went on to become a magical historian, which eventually led to her taking on the position of history of magic professor at Hogwarts. She also continued to research into her biological parents and while never satisfied with her finds, she made peace with what she had found. 

Trivia:

Keira was adopted in May of 2003, at the age of five months old. She had no memory of her biological parents, Hana and Akio Kishi, muggleborns who were murdered by a rogue blood purist leftover from Voldemort’s war. She is of Japanese descent, with both her parents being children of Japanese immigrants to the UK in the 1960s.

Keira is an animagus, taking the form of a tabby cat. She pursued it after graduating from Hogwarts. 

Keira is bilingual, fluent in English and Irish Gaelic. She also worked on teaching herself Japanese, but she isn’t fluent in it.

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵-𝓛𝓮𝓮

Nicknames: Dora

Name Meanings: Theodora → Greek, “gift of God” ; Ailis → Irish, “noble” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall” ; Lee → English, “meadow” or “pasture.”

Date of Birth: June 6, 1999

Gender: Female ; she/her 

Sexuality: Bisexual 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Faceclaim: Mina Sundwall

Parents: Sara O’Donnell and Barnaby Lee 

Siblings: Declan Ryan, Violet Cara, and Brendan Conor O’Donnell-Lee

Godparents: Ryan O’Donnell and Cara O’Donnell 

Patronus: Robin

Favorite Subjects: Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Charms, Astronomy 

Least Favorite Subjects: Transfiguration, Potions

Extracurriculars: Prefect 

Hobbies: Hiking, gardening, reading, baking, cooking

Personality: Kind, tolerant, stubborn, strong, loyal, outgoing, friendly, generous, reliable, funny, open, extroverted

About Dora: The eldest of the O’Donnell-Lee siblings and the O’Donnell cousins, Dora takes after her mother. She’s warm and friendly and always ready to lend a hand. She loves her family, feeling quite protective over all of them. She’s definitely closer to her father and shares his love for all things creatures. She’s got a close relationship with her younger sister, Violet, gets along pretty well with her youngest brother, Brendan, but tends to butt heads with her younger brother, Declan. She loves all of her cousins and feels quite protective over them.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Dora was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff. She found herself at home in the house quite quickly, feeling like she belonged early on. Dora never had much of an interest in quidditch and only began attending games when Declan made the Slytherin quidditch team and then other cousins and siblings made their respective house teams. In her fifth year, however, Dora was named a prefect just like her mother and been.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Dora followed her father’s footsteps and became a magiozoologist. She loved it and after working on her own for a bit, she decided to join the team at the O’Donnell-Lee Creature Reserve and Rehab Center.

Trivia:

Dora is named after Nymphadora Tonks, although her parents decided against using Nymphadora and picked Theodora instead. 

Dora is bilingual, fluent in English and Irish Gaelic. 

𝓥𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵-𝓛𝓮𝓮

Nicknames: Vi, Vio, Lettie 

Name Meanings: Violet → English, “purple” ; Cara → Irish, “dear friend” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall” ; Lee → English, “meadow” or “pasture.”

Date of Birth: May 3, 2003

Gender: Female ; she/her 

Sexuality: Demisexual (+ panromantic) 

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw 

Faceclaim: Sophie Grace 

Parents: Sara O’Donnell and Barnaby Lee

Siblings: Theodora Ailis “Dora,” Declan Ryan, and Brendan Conor O’Donnell-Lee

Godparent: Penny Haywood 

Patronus: Otter

Favorite Subjects: Care of magical creatures, herbology, charms, potions 

Least Favorite Subjects: Transfiguration, astronomy 

Extracurriculars: Chaser for the Ravenclaw quidditch team 

Hobbies: Reading, writing, baking, hiking, flying

Personality: Kind, tolerant, stubborn, strong, loyal, outgoing, friendly, generous, reliable, funny, open, extroverted

About Violet: As the youngest daughter, Violet is also very much her mother’s daughter and also has her father’s love for magical creatures and all animals really. She’s closer to her father as well, but has a close relationship with her mother. She’s closest to her cousins, Michael and Keira, but out of her siblings, she’s closest to her sister, Dora. She gets along alright with her brothers, although she fights with Brendan the most and fights with Declan a lot too. Family is very important to Violet.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Violet was sorted into Ravenclaw after being a hatstall between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She finds herself at home in Ravenclaw and gains a lot of confidence in herself while at Hogwarts. In her fifth year, she makes the Ravenclaw quidditch in the position of chaser. Quidditch is not her passion, but nevertheless Violet enjoys playing the sport. There’s always a bit of dread whenever she plays Slytherin in her fifth year, knowing that her older brother, Declan, is their seeker and captain and that he’s being scouted by professional teams. She doesn’t want to make him look bad, even if they bicker a lot. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Violet’s path diverged slightly from her older sister’s and younger brother’s paths. Instead of becoming a magiozoologist (or a quidditch player like Declan), Violet went into the field of magioveterinary practice. Like her siblings, Violet also ends up working at the O’Donnell-Lee Creature Reserve & Rehab Center. 

Trivia:

Violet’s middle name is after her Aunt Cara.

Like the rest of her family, Violet is fluent in both English and Irish Gaelic.

𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵-𝓛𝓮𝓮

Nicknames: Bren

Name Meanings: Brendan → Irish, “prince” ; Conor → Irish, “lover of hounds” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall” ; Lee → English, “meadow” or “pasture.”

Date of Birth: May 17, 2006

Gender: Male ; he/him 

Sexuality: Bisexual 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff 

Faceclaim: Christopher Convery 

Parents: Sara O’Donnell and Barnaby Lee

Siblings: Theodora Ailis “Dora,” Declan Ryan, and Violet Cara O’Donnell-Lee

Patronus: Basset hound

Favorite Subjects: Care of magical creatures, charms, defense against the dark arts

Least Favorite Subjects: Transfiguration, history of magic 

Extracurriculars: Magical Creatures Club

Hobbies: Hiking, reading, writing, music, models (trains, cars, planes, ships)

Personality: Loyal, kind, shy, stubborn, friendly, creative, bold, tolerant, reliable, a little aloof at first, courageous

About Brendan: As the youngest son and child, Brendan tends to take after his father more so than any of his siblings. He’s got a close relationship with both of his parents and his older sisters, although he looks up to his brother the most. He also has a close relationship with his cousin, Winifred, as they’re the same age and seem to click really well. 

Upon starting Hogwarts, Brendan is quickly sorted into Hufflepuff. He finds himself to be quite at home in Hufflepuff, making friends easily, even though he’s a bit shy. He never joins the quidditch team or is made a prefect, but he doesn’t mind. Indeed, it gives Brendan more time to do what he wants. He does join the magical creatures club, though. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Brendan becomes a magiozoologist, following in the footsteps of his father and oldest sister. He also eventually makes his way to working at the O’Donnell-Lee Creature Reserve and Rehab Center, but he doesn’t start there. 

Trivia:

Brendan is technically named after his mother. Barnaby suggested the name Brendan after discovering that it meant prince as Sara is a Hebrew name meaning princess. His middle name is after his uncle. 

Brendan is fluent in English and Irish Gaelic, just like the rest of his siblings and cousins.

𝓢𝓮𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: None

Name Meanings: Seth → Hebrew, “appointed,” “placed” ; Lorcan → Irish, “little” or “fierce” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: December 28, 2009 (at 3:01 am)

Gender: Male ; he/him 

Sexuality: Demisexual

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw 

Faceclaim: Jett Klyne 

Parents: Conor O’Donnell and Ruth Lyman

Siblings: Naomi Ailis and Ciaran Judah O’Donnell

Godparents: Ryan O’Donnell and Sara O’Donnell

Patronus: Ibizan hound

Favorite Subjects: Charms, defense against the dark arts, transfiguration 

Least Favorite Subjects: Herbology, potions 

Extracurriculars: Prefect, beater on the Ravenclaw quidditch team

Hobbies: Flying, football/soccer, hurling, reading, drawing

Personality: Intelligent, stubborn, reserved, perfectionist, insightful, funny, creative, kind, friendly, brave

About Seth: As the oldest triplet, Seth is the most troublesome of the three. He tends to take a leaf out of his cousins, Michael’s and Winifred’s books, although he’s not a fan of pranks. Seth just likes understanding mysteries and everything around him. He’s got a close relationship with his triplets, Naomi and Ciaran, even though they bicker quite a bit. He’s got a closer relationship with his mother, too, but gets along well with his father.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Seth was sorted into Ravenclaw, just like both of his parents. He found himself feeling quite comfortable in Ravenclaw, which was helped by the fact that his triplets had been sorted in there as well. He joined the Ravenclaw quidditch team in his fourth year in the position of beater. In his fifth year, he was made a prefect alongside his sister. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Seth was inspired by his late paternal grandfather and joined the aurors. He found himself quite content with the career, enjoying the fast pace.

Trivia:

Seth shares his middle name with his father and paternal great-grandfather. His first name is shared with his maternal grandfather, who’s middle name is Seth. 

Seth is trilingual, fluent in English, Irish Gaelic, and Yiddish. He’s also familiar with Hebrew. 

Seth and his siblings are technically Jewish, because his mother is Jewish. However, both Jewish and Christian traditions occur in the O’Donnell-Lyman household.

Seth is a triplet.

𝓝𝓪𝓸𝓶𝓲 𝓐𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: None

Name Meanings: Naomi → Hebrew, “pleasantness” ; Ailis → Irish, “noble” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: December 28, 2009 (at 3:04 am)

Gender: Female ; she/her

Sexuality: Heterosexual 

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw 

Faceclaim: Alisha Weir

Parents: Conor O’Donnell and Ruth Lyman 

Brothers: Seth Lorcan and Ciaran Judah O’Donnell

Godparents: Barnaby Lee and Cara O’Donnell

Patronus: Field mouse

Favorite Subjects: Charms, potions, transfiguration 

Least Favorite Subjects: Defense against the dark arts, herbology

Extracurriculars: Prefect

Hobbies: Writing, drawing, cooking, baking, flying

Personality: Intelligent, stubborn, introverted, insightful, loyal, practical, kind, perfectionist, reserved, tolerant

About Naomi: As the middle triplet, Naomi takes after her mother more so than her father. She prefers to spend her time not being involved in mischief and wants to put her best foot forward in everything. She’s got a close relationship with her triplets, being a tad closer to Ciaran though. She’s got good relationships with both of her parents and really admires both of them.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Naomi was sorted into Ravenclaw. She found herself feeling comfortable in the house quite quickly, helped by the facts that her brothers were there too and that her mother happened to be the charms professor. She never joined the quidditch team, leaving that for her brothers, but she was made a prefect in her fifth alongside her brother, Seth. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, Naomi becomes invested in writing and goes onto write textbooks and the occasional novel. 

Trivia:

Naomi is named after her late maternal great-grandmother with her middle name being after her late paternal grandmother.

Naomi is fluent in English, Irish Gaelic, and Yiddish. She also knows some Hebrew.

Naomi is a triplet.

𝓒𝓲𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷 𝓙𝓾𝓭𝓪𝓱 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵

Nicknames: None

Name Meanings: Ciaran → Irish, “little dark one” ; Judah → Hebrew, “praised” ; O’Donnell → Irish, “descendant of Domhnall.”

Date of Birth: December 28, 2009 (at 3:14 am)

Gender: Male ; he/him 

Sexuality: Heterosexual 

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw 

Faceclaim: Julian Hilliard

Parents: Conor O’Donnell and Ruth Lyman 

Siblings: Seth Lorcan and Naomi Ailis O’Donnell

Patronus: Scops owl

Favorite Subjects: Charms, astronomy, transfiguration

Least Favorite Subjects: Potions, history of magic 

Extracurriculars: Seeker on the Ravenclaw quidditch team

Hobbies: Reading, flying, quidditch, running, writing, sketching 

Personality: Intelligent, athletic, stubborn, reserved, quiet, practical, observant, a bit of perfectionist but not as bad as his triplets, flexible, kind 

About Ciaran: As the youngest triplet, Ciaran is very much his father’s son. He’s got his father’s reserved nature coupled with the inheritance of his father’s stutter. Unlike his father, though, Ciaran grows up feeling comfortable with the imperfections that accompany his stutter… thanks to the support of his whole family. He’s got a close relationship with his triplets, even though they do occasionally bicker. He’s also got close relationships with his parents. He is closer to his father, though.

Upon starting Hogwarts, Ciaran was quickly sorted into Ravenclaw. He took the longest to become comfortable at Hogwarts, but everything was made easier by his siblings being with him and his mother being one of their professors. In his third year, Ciaran made the Ravenclaw quidditch in the position of seeker, the same one that his father had played.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Ciaran continued in his father’s footsteps and decided to go into the field of architecture. He attended a muggle university in Dublin, while also learning about the magical components from his father. 

Trivia:

Ciaran’s middle name is after his late maternal great-grandfather.

Ciaran, like his siblings, is fluent in English, Irish Gaelic, and Yiddish. He also knows some Hebrew.

Ciaran is a triplet. 

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓡𝔂𝓪𝓷 𝓞’𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓵𝓵-𝓛𝓮𝓮