#historial facial reconstruction

[maked-artyshenanigans]

So, I saw this image on Facebook, and it was supposedly showing what Queen Nefertiti would have looked like in real life:

Now, I thought this AI generated garbage was just truly terrible on a number of levels; first off, she looks wayyyyyy too modern - her makeup is very “Hollywood glamour”, she looks airbrushed and de-aged, and as far as I’m aware, Ancient Egyptians didn’t have mascara, glitter-based eyeshadows and lip gloss. Secondly, her features are exceptionally whitewashed in every sense - this is pretty standard for AI as racial bias is prevalent in feeding AI algorithms, but I genuinely thought a depiction of such a known individual would not exhibit such euro-centric features. Thirdly, the outfit was massively desaturated and didn’t take pigment loss into consideration, and while I *do* like the look of the neck attire, it's not at all accurate (plus, again, AI confusion on the detailing is evident).

So, this inspired me to alter the image on the left to be more accurate based off the sculpture’s features. I looked into Ancient Egyptian makeup and looked at references for kohl eyeliner and clay-based facial pigment (rouge was used on cheeks, charcoal-based powder/paste was used to darken and elongate eyebrows), and I looked at pre-existing images of Nefertiti, both her mummy and other reconstructions. While doing this, I found photos of a 3D scanned sculpture made by scientists at the University of Bristol and chose to collage the neck jewellery over the painting (and edited the lighting and shadows as best as I could).

Something I see a lot of in facial recreations of mummies is maintaining the elongated and skinny facial features as seen on preserved bodies - however, fat, muscle and cartilage shrink/disappear post mortem, regardless of preservation quality; Queen Nefertiti had art created of her in life, and these pieces are invaluable to developing an accurate portrayal of her, whether stylistic or realistic in nature.

And hey, while I don't think my adjustments are perfect (especially the neck area), I *do* believe it is a huge improvement to the original image I chose to work on top of.

I really liked working on this project for the last few days, and I think I may continue to work on it further to perfect it. But, until then, I hope you enjoy!

Remember, likes don't help artists but reblogs do!

[xenoanamorph]

John Shaw Torrington🩵 An attempt at a facial reconstruction.. I did this in 2020 and for some reason was very hesitant/shy(??) about posting it. To be fair, not much “reconstruction” was necessary since he was in remarkable shape at the time of his exhumation (and I assume he still looks fabulous thanks to that good ol’ permafrost treatment🧊).

Now some thoughts… because I’ve never articulated this online before..💭

I’ve had a fixation on him since I was 14 (I’m 29 now) and have attempted many times over the years to draw him in a more…well, alive state..

and I’ll just say it straight up; I think he has a beautiful, ethereal face. I’ve always thought that, even when I was a kid. If he looks that way in death, I can only imagine what that beauty was like when he was among the living. I tried to capture that in this drawing..

Anyway.. I could ramble on…

This, I think, is the most presentable drawing out of all the attempts I’ve done in the 15 years I’ve ‘known’ him— though it certainly won’t be the last. 🩵

I’m planning on doing similar portraits of Hartnell and Braine… I expect Braine will be difficult because he was not in good shape compared to the other Beechey boys..

** I’m overwhelmed by the positive responses this piece got! Tysm everyone!🥲🙏 It really makes me so happy to see JT get so much love— and I’m sure it warms his heart as well 🩵

[thesilicontribesman]

'The Winterton Lady' Romano-British Burial and Facial Reconstruction, North Lincolnshire Museum, Scunthorpe

[theantonian]

Facial reconstruction of the Ptolemaic Egyptian Queen Cleopatra VII (r. 51-30 BCE). This artistic representation of Cleopatra is primarily based on a bust from the Berlin Altes Museum, widely agreed to depict Cleopatra. In addition to the Berlin portrait, the features in this reconstruction are based upon contemporary coin portraits and a bust from the British Museum which may depict Cleopatra.

[andeanbeauties]

So apparently Swedish and Polish facial reconstructionists decided to try to recreate the famous Incan "Ice Maiden" mummy dubbed "Juanita".

Truthfully, I feel like these European reconstructionists ( do not know how to re-create Andean facial features and the results ended up... terribly uncanny. So down below, with the use of photoshop, I edited the bust with more Andean Indigenous Peruvian facial features to honor the "Ice Maiden".

My version:

I made her brows straighter and longer, got rid of the cleft chin, gave her a down-turned mouth, broader lips (not small), I made her lips a little larger too and I made her nose longer/bigger and wider around the nasal Ala. I also broadened her nostrils a tad

and I made her under-eyes more puffy

I widened her bone structure

I emphasized her sideburns

My version (on top):

original (white euros created) below:

I hope that in the future, more Andean/Indigenous Peruvian facial reconstructionists have opportunities to work on revealing the faces of their kin and ancestors. We needed more andean people involved in her reconstruction.

Let me know what you think of my edits down below too!

I hope you enjoy them!

the original article can be read here:

[roses-of-the-romanovs]

Forensic facial reconstructions of Nicholas II (Skeleton 4), Alexandra Feodorovna (Skeleton 7), Olga Nikolaevna (Skeleton 3), Tatiana Nikolaevna (based on the conclusion that she was Skeleton 5), Anastasia Nikolaevna (based on the conclusion that she was Skeleton 6), Eugene Botkin (Skeleton 2), Anna Demidova (Skeleton 1), and Aloise Trupp (Skeleton 9).

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Historical Figures Recreated And Brought To Life (V1)

19 January 2023

Featured in this video:

Akhenaten, Nefertiti, King Henry VIII, Joan of Arc, Anne Boleyn, Anne of Cleves, Catherine Parr, Rembrandt, Mozart, George Washington, Marie Antoinette, Elizabeth I, Julius Caesar, Catherine The Great, Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglass, Mark Twain, Isaac Newton, and more...

[science-for-the-masses]

Further to yesterday's article...

[felinefractious]

Do you consider brachycephalism in cats as serious as in dogs? I'm in veterinary medicine but I don't encounter many brachy kitties and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Brachycephaly is a problem.

Schlueter et al (2009) categorized brachycephalic head shapes into four categories randing from mild to severe.

Moderate brachycephaly is where we begin to really see problems and profound or severe brachycephalic cats are going to have a real issue.

The British Shorthair (left) is a breed where mild brachycephaly is part of the standard compared to an Exotic Shorthair (right) where profound - severe brachycephaly is desireable.

On the left with have a British Shorthair, in the center an Exotic Shorthair and on the right a Persian.

One of the problems we see with brachycephalic breeds is stenotic nares, which are narrow nostrils. You can’t even make out the nares on the Persian shown above and, as one may expect, this affects how much air they move through them.

We can see similar obstructive effects in cats with nasopharyngeal polyps, masses or reconstruction due to scarring from chronic rhinosinusitis problems.

Due to their inability to breath normally through their nose these cats tend to be heat and exercise intolerant and can run into trouble more quickly during high stress events.

Stenotic nares can be surgically corrected but I don’t think this is as common in cats as it is in dogs, at least I haven’t encountered many cats who’ve undergone the procedure. I don’t know if it’s not as necessary, if cats don’t respond as well or if cat owners are less likely to seek treatment.

Or maybe it is as common and my lack of experience is the outlier.

Brachycephaly is also associated with malocclusion and dental disease, chronic epiphora, facial dermatitis related to the chronic tearing and ocular issues such as conreal sequestrum or entropion related to the protruding eye structure.

I know globe proptopsis is a problem in some brachycephalic dog breeds like pugs but I haven’t heard of this specifically happening in brachycephalic cat breeds.

Exotics and Persians are obviously the worst when it comes to brachycephaly in cats but the Bombay and (American) Burmese are also offenders.

There are other breeds which don’t call for a brachycephalic head shape (or even default it) or call for only a mild version but certain breeders are selecting for extreme typeing anyways because even though their cats might not win any shows they can sell them as designer variants for more.

On the left we have a Sphynx and in the right we have a Devon Rex both with an extreme head type contradictory to the breed standard.

So yes, unfortunately the brachycephalic head type is a problem in cats. Some try to argue that brachycephalic animals often live long lives which means the abnormal structure isn’t a problem… but longevity is only one measure of a breeds ethical soundness, quality of life and history are also important in my opinon.

[my-darling-boy]

I've read your post about Sidney Beldam (what a man!) and it fascinated me enough to buy (quite impulsively) The Facemaker. Long story short, thanks to you and Lindsey Fitzharris I'm in my history-of-medicine-nerd-era and in gayly-interested-in-WWI-period; and The Facemaker might be one of my favourite books I've read this year. The stories of soldiers! The photographs! The work of Gillies! And reading that he performed the first known phalloplasty on a trans man was a very pleasant surprise, you know.

As an ask without an ask wouldn't be technically an ask, here I ask: Do you have any academic paper or book "with plot" recommendations? Either something similar to The Facemaker or just something about or set during the era?

Ahh I’m glad it’s been so inspiring! Ah hell yes Gillies was on that king shit doing the phalloplasty, really set the bar for transgender medical care of the 20th century!

I’ve got (a lot) more info than you’ve wanted if you don’t mind (I really can’t help myself), WWI and thereabouts is a great place to look if you’re getting into medicine history cos that’s when a lot of rapid change happened due to the war as well as the Edwardians’ newfound fight against germs and with the influenza pandemic towards the end of the Great War. My area at the moment for 1900-1920s medicine is plastic and reconstructive surgery, amputations, shellshock and PTSD, post-war rehabilitation, and the general RAMC. So I’ve got some recs for medicine and treatment for the body and mind around the war!

For academic books with a bit more narrative/soldier accounts as you asked:

Wounded by Emily Mayhew. I’ll admit I’ve not picked it up just yet but I do own it and it goes a lot off soldier’s stories

Forgotten Lunatics of the Great War by Peter Barham. Fantastic read about the stigma of “lunacy” and the psychological hardships men faced returning home including fighting for pensions due to lost limbs and shell shock.

Breakdown: the crisis of shellshock on the Somme, 1916 by Taylor Downing. While I don’t agree with this author’s personal views on the war, it does give soldier accounts looking at how the military alone viewed and responded to shell shock which can be helpful to understand in contrast to the civilian post-war response, especially since PTSD and shell shock are two different conditions and the former wasn’t widely understood almost until the 21st century.

Medicine in the First World War Europe: soldiers, medics, pacifists by Fiona Reid. Cannot remember the exact nature of this book cos I can’t remember if I own it but if I remember right it does have more of a personal accounts type telling.

Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain. Not 100% a medical read but a famous memoir written by feminist and pacifist Vera Brittain about her time before the war and during such as a VAD nurse

Two more clinical book reccs if you’re into the how and why of wounds and such:

Faces from the Front by Andrew Bamji. Very good look into the treatment of facial injuries with plastic surgery, it is at times a bit graphic as there are plenty of photos

War Surgery 1914-18 edited by Thomas Scotland and Steven Heys. Great look into injuries and their pathology, approachable read with clearly defined figures and not just massive walls of text along with an extensive bibliography. I recommend this as well for anyone writing WWI fiction because this tells you how wounds ACTUALLY happened and presented themselves

Purely fictional but with medical themes in nature (off the top of my head):

The Regeneration Trilogy by Pat Barker. Quite well known, but depicts the psychological effects of WWI on various characters. If you want queer themes, you’ll like this.

Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. American anti-war novel about a soldier who horrifically looses his arms, legs, face, hearing, and sight during the war and is confined to a secluded hospital bed at the mercy of doctors and nurses who don’t know what to do for him.

A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr. More queer themes! Tells the story about two WWI vets doing archeological work at a church in the English countryside and their lasting battle with shell shock.

I’ve also got a list of a handful of academic type sources slowly collected over the past months for various medical WWI things. These are only the ones I remembered to save, but I know there were certainly several more:

Website on the detailed RAMC evacuation

Pay to access source on prosthetic limbs in Britain via JSTOR

bibliography for First World War medicine as a kind of jumping off point for more academic papers and medical books

Academic paper reflecting on Britain’s response and treatment of shellshock

Good short article on the care of veterans for work and housing post-war

Continuously updating catalogue containing medical records that detail quite interesting stories like a bombardier receiving hypnotherapy to cure shell shock, hyperlink at the bottom to search database

REALLY good site on the RAMC duties at casualty clearing, advanced dressing, and regimental aid

WIP article on Gillies, Sidcup, and patients written by person whose friend was the granddaughter of Sidney Beldam

Academic article on facially disfigured men reclaiming agency and visibility

Short article on soldiers and disability struggles after the war

Masculinity, Stigma and Facial and Psychological Injuries of the First World War thesis paper

Erskine Hospital records that show the hospital, rehabilitation, and patients as well as limb making. Full collection is held at the University of Glasgow

Relationships between medical care and masculinity

Also off the top of my head, if you’re ever in Edinburgh for whatever reason, you might really enjoy the Surgeon’s Hall Museums as there are thousands of artefacts on display such as antique medical equipment, Victorian dentistry items, 17th century skeletons, and 20th century prosthetics. Literally it is floor to ceiling in the main gallery with jarred organs, body parts, bones, and even most remarkably the preserved upper half of the face, moustache and all, of a WWI soldier which is probably one of—if not the—most fascinating and haunting thing I’ve ever seen at a museum imo. It can be a bit of a shock to the system if you’ve never been to that sort of thing before so take care when going. I’ve been about three times and there’s still a couple items that make me go a bit light headed to look at!

Anyway I know it’s a lot but I hope something in there could be more of help to you! Cheers x

[badass-at-fandoming]

Is Beckett meant to be a poc (in vtmb)? I think so based on his facial features and his skin being a light shade of brown. But he was born in Britain during the 1700s-1600s which makes being non-white a lot less likely (though there were poc even back then).

This is an interesting question, @chinesegal! Thank you for your patience with me answering it. I was traveling, but now I'm back!

When I look at Beckett in Bloodlines, I interpret him as a white British man. But a lot can change depending on what mods one uses to make the game work. For example, this Beckett...

...looks much less pale than this Beckett:

One must also factor in Bloodlines' poor lighting. As any visual artist trying to figure out Sebastian LaCroix's hair color will tell you, the lighting in VTMB is a terrible, mercurial beast. The dingy lighting certainly aides the grimy, uncertain atmosphere, but poor fan artists struggle.

The last sticky point I can think of is how all the Kindred characters are supposed to have a "deathly pallor," especially if they have lower Humanity. Deathly pallor can muck up skin tone wonderfully. I think Strauss would be the best example. He's an older Kindred (LA by Night states he was at the Convention of Thorns in 1493) and made a gargoyle (which involves torture), so he's definitely on the lower end of the Humanity scale. According to VtM's lore, Strauss has trouble maintaining a lively, human appearance. Some fans interpret him as white and often point to his white voice actor, Jim Ward. Others remark on Strauss' resemblance to Morpheus from The Matrix Trilogy, cite the deathly pallor lore, and interpret him as a Black man with graying skin. As in, Strauss looks closer to what a Black man's corpse would look like. The deathly pallor factor allows for this interpretation, and in the gap can nicely fit Cuthbert Beckett. He's an Elder Kindred and has had periods of low Humanity. Maybe he's brown and has been through the wringer.

VtM has a tenuous relationship with history, but if you want to check in with it, real life history doesn't obstruct an interpretation of Beckett as Black or brown. British people have had black or brown skin since forever, as you referenced. The oldest Englishman, Mesolithic era Cheddar man's skin is possibly darker than the reconstruction suggests. Ya gotta remember that white skin came to be because people weren't getting enough Vitamin D. If Beckett is descended from the indigenous Celtic Britons (unlikely but possible), his ancestors might not have been malnourished and lived somewhere the sun could penetrate the mists of Avalon.

So like, given all the above, you can definitely argue that Beckett's a Black or brown British guy. Whatever floats your boat.

That wasn't exactly your question, however. You asked if Beckett's meant to be a person of color or white. This implies you want to know the devs' original intention with the game, which I guess at being Beckett as a white man.

Beckett has been described as white in past White Wolf publications. Or rather, not described, because white is default skin tone in so many works, very unfortunately. In the Victorian Trilogy, much is made of Halim Bey, Theo Bell, and Hesha Ruhadze's black skin, but Beckett's skin tone gets no comment. He's "a long-haired man" with a "wolfish grin one might imagine on a privateer from a past age," (The Wounded King, pg 123-125). Someone describes him as "a pauper's version of Buffalo Bill Cody," (197). When his lover Emma disrobes him, the text notes "his feline pupil slits [and] amber irises," (pg 204). Special attention is paid to Beckett's hands: "dark hair, slick like sable covered the back of his hand, fading to a more human-seeming growth on his forearms" and "His fingers were longer than a man's should be, and the nails were hard and thick like a dog's," (ibid). In Year of the Scarab Trilogy's Land of the Dead, he describes himself with "lean, muscular physique [with] round smoked glasses [hinting] at a pretty boy slumming," (pg 101). By the absence of skin tone description, by the unfortunate reality that white skin is seen as default and therefore unworthy of comment, we can infer that Beckett is white. That's to say nothing of the Vampire: the Masquerade - Beckett comic, which depicts him as white. I wouldn't give the VTMB developers the grace or credit to suddenly deter from this character history.

After all, these are the same devs that failed to come up with a story with Chinese people that wasn't Yellow Peril drivel, created a white PC with "locs," declined to brown Nines' skin, and made Skelter imply that Black Americans make up their own oppression. Just like, all of Chinatown is hard for Chinese and Japanese players to get through. Even by 2004 standards, it's real shitty. With these other missteps, it's hard to imagine they'd have the creativity to re-design Beckett as brown or Black. I think they meant him to be interpreted as white.

But you don't have to! Death to the authors! In your fan art, fan casts, picrew, fanfic, chronicles etc, he can be brown, Black, indigenous, or whatever ethnicity bees your knees. You create the Beckett reality in your Beckett-loving head.

Thank you again for the ask, and I hope the essay made the wait worth it!

[mermaidsirennikita]

one of my favorite things is when you watch a documentary about English history and the host is all "we wanted to see what this legendary beauty/handsome king looked like when they were alive... so we paid for a state-of-the-art facial reconstruction" and they hype it up the whole program and then at the end they're like "and now, it's time to unveil the timeless face that captivated a kingdom"

and it's like the most bland or frankly busted redneck-looking white person with either ZERO chin or FAR TOO MUCH chin and the announcer is all "we've brought them back to life... this Helen of Troy of the 1500s..." trying not to sound disappointed as this dead-eyed reconstruction stares out at us, an absolutely lipless testament to the horrors of marrying your cousin

[aldi-spice]

Eiland fic

Felt like writing an Eiland fic, since there aren't that many. You can also read it on AO3.

Warning 18+/smut

The water felt like a warm embrace as she sank down into it, letting it envelop her fully. She sighed contented, her muscles sore from her daily work on the farm, and with the soothing scent of lavender in the air, she closed her eyes, resting her head on the edge of the solid stone bath. The soft patter of water droplets leaking from the fancy dragon head faucet lulling her to sleep, and as her eyes close, she doesn’t notice another presence entering the bathhouse and stepping into the water.

“Ari!”, he gasped when he noticed his mistake. There he was, interrupting the new farmer's bath time. Eiland had just gotten back to town after an unsuccessful attempt to reconstruct an aldarian clay pot the aforementioned farmer so kindly brought to the museum the other day. Not to mention all the hours she has spent finding all kinds of artifacts, and always bringing them straight to the museum, to Eiland’s delight. He tore his eyes away from her, and wrapped his bath towel tightly around his waist again.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea someone else was already in. Juniper said-”, he stopped his mumbled, apologetic rambling when he noticed her closed eyes and her deep, steady breathing. She was asleep. He sighed in relief, the last thing he wanted to do is make her uncomfortable. His shoulders relaxed a bit and his grip on his towel softened. Her cheeks rosy from the extended stay in the warm water, her hair still damp and sticking to her neck, the way her chest rose and fell under the milky white bathwater made it all the harder to keep his eyes away from her. 

He’s no idiot, he can admit he thinks the farmer is attractive, but having the opportunity to study her features up close is not a chance he’ll let go so easily. Inching closer to her unconscious body, and swallowing down the fear that she could wake up any minute, he slowly reached his hand out to her face to brush away a loose strand of hair on her forehead. The way her face was still and calm reminded him of the many paintings he finds in his art history books he was gifted by Elsie, saying he should learn to appreciate other forms of art. He’s browsed said books occasionally, not particularly caring about the artist muses that were depicted, but seeing Ari in the warm light emitting from the crystals in the bath house might have been the push he needed to develop an interest in that partial field of history. 

As his fingers delicately brushed the lock of hair out of her eyes, she stirred and slowly began opening her eyes. He began panicking, but when his eyes locked with hers and she looked at him with a small smile painted on her lips, he knew he had no reason to worry.

“Good morning.”, he said quietly, hoping not to startle her, but she said nothing in return and leaned her head further into his hold. Surprised by her bold action, his body flinched but he cradled her face further and he allowed himself to sit on the edge of the bath while he continued to gaze at her soft facial features. She let out a soft, sleepy moan and pushed her head closer to him, finally finding a comfortable position leaning it against his lap. His body froze when he felt her cuddle up to him and he pushed her away from him, gently grabbing her shoulders in both hands, the sudden jerk of her body finally snapping her out of her too short slumber. Her eyes opened fully for the first time since Eiland entered the bath house and she searched the room, still slightly disoriented.

“Finally.”, he whispered. She whipped her head around to see the young archeologist sitting beside her looking down at her. So it wasn't a dream after all, she thought to herself and was about to question him when he spoke first.

“I’m sorry for intruding, Juniper said no one else was in.”, he said, flushing a light pink, matching his pastel hair color. 

“I was worried since I saw you sleeping and wanted to make sure you’re not in danger.”, he gulped quietly into the silence that followed his explanation, it wasn’t untrue what he told her, but he did leave out some details that might have changed her perspective on this situation.

“Oh…”, she replied, seemingly relaxed again, “thanks. I’ll get out right away.” 

As she grabbed the white, fluffy towel she had brought to the bath, he got up as well, averting his gaze as she covered herself.

“No, no need. I can wait. Just take your time.”, he said, stumbling over his words and barely able to hide his embarrassment by this point.

“No, I should go. I’ve been here long enough, I should have been dressed and outside 10 minutes ago. You stay.”, she replied firmly, scrambling to gather her things and leave.

“Really it’s alright, I can wait a few more minutes.”, he answered her while trying to avoid looking directly at her.

“No, I insist. This is my fault. I go.”, she argued back, both too polite to let the other stay. While grabbing her last bottles of soap, she hears him mumbling another excuse and realizes there’s a secret third option.

“What if we-”, she stutters and he stops to turn and look at her directly, “what if we shared the bath?”, she said, her voice was quiet with a quiver on her tongue, a sign of her uncertainty and nervousness. She had been friends with Eiland ever since she started regularly visiting him at the excavation site, and helping him find new artifacts for the museum, but had never shared a bath with him. She didn’t know when exactly she started to have feelings for him, she just remembers looking at him one day and seeing a different man she came to know over the course of her life in Mistria, she came to love this man. Finally, with the perfect opportunity to get closer to him, she musters her courage and looks at him in earnest, with a shy smile on her face.

“It’s not that different from hanging out at the beach anyway, what do you say?”, she asked innocently. She really had no inappropriate intentions in mind, but she wouldn't mind getting closer to him that way.

“Uh, I…,” he cleared his throat, “I suppose we could do that…”

She smiled at him again, this time with a face that read pure joy and excitement from getting to spend time with a dear friend. She dropped her bath towel again, revealing her bathing suit to him for the first time today and sat down in the warm, silky soft water again, sighing as she leaned back against the large bath. She closed her eyes momentarily, soaking in the pleasant feeling of the bath's rejuvenating powers, and opened them again to see Eiland standing by the opposite end of the bath. He had just removed the towel and held it folded up under his arm, unsure about his next action. His eyes can’t seem to focus on anything in the room, as they dart around trying to look at anything but her. Ari, noticing his discomfort, tries to soothe his nerves by splashing some water in his direction.

“Come on, I won’t bite," she said with a giggle. She had always had a playfully flirty side, something that only came out when they played Dungeons & Drama together on Fridays. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of essential oils and soaps, and stepped in the bath, enveloping himself in the warm water immediately.

“Aren't these baths incredible?”, she tried to get him to talk to her by trying to engage him in casual small talk, “I truly wonder what oils Juniper uses to make them so refreshing, yet relaxing at the same time.”

“I wonder if she sources her ingredients locally. Mistria has a long history of using medicinal herbs in baths.”, he replied, seemingly more comfortable now that he’s back in his element, “Ancient texts describe medical practices involving common herbs and plants more than one might expect. Just recently, I've found what appears to be a vial, used to mix medicine…”

She had listened to him talk about his love of history many times before, but the joy on his face when someone is willing to listen to his rambles is enough to make her enjoy herself to the fullest. With each new sidetracking story he tells her, she inches closer to him, barely noticing it herself, being way too focused on listening with enthusiasm. By the end of his passionate lecture on artifacts and Mistrian history, they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder in the large bath, not minding one bit. He concludes his monologue by nudging her shoulder with his, finally realizing how close they are, he stills. Her face was so close to his, he could see the water droplets in her long eyelashes, her cheeks even pinker now that she's spent way too long in the hot bath, and her lips soft like the silky garments he wore on a regular basis, and so kissable.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him, worried that she might have overstepped boundaries, ready to move back a few paces. Her eyes suddenly full of worry that she might have offended him deeply, she leans back to give him some space, but soon finds his hands on her upper arm.

“No, nothing is wrong.”, he said quickly, not planning on letting go of her just yet, “I just-”

He reached for her face and brushed an imaginary flower petal from her face.

“There was some lavender on your cheek.”, he lied to her, it was just another excuse to touch her, but he didn’t want this moment to end, he enjoyed her company a little too much to let her leave. She smiled, touching her cheek again, feeling the lingering touch of his warm skin on hers, and reached for his face in turn.

“You too.”, she smirked, knowing fully well he hasn't gotten his face anywhere near the bath water. He flushed, feeling caught in his lie and tries to apologize but gets cut off by a quick, feeling kiss on his lips. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds of physical contact, but Eiland couldn't even tell anymore when she broke away, his whole face felt warm, and he flushed a pretty shade of red. He had no time to process this however, and she rested her head on his shoulder, he could feel her giggle silently, sending small vibrations through his body.

“You’re a terrible liar.”, she said, while cuddling up to him closer, “Do you still want to have separate baths now?” 

He realized now that she was teasing him, but didn't care anymore, ready to let her play with him as much as she wanted as long as she kept kissing her. He shook his head vigorously, making her chuckle in return, and Eiland pulled her closer to him. She was now facing him again, gazing into each other's eyes, his face still flushed and hers still grinning happily. Without saying another word, he gently stroked her cheek, dragging his index from her cheekbone to her jawline along the apple of her cheek, exactly where he pretended to wipe petals off her face; her wide, cheeky grin morphing into a softer smile, full of adoration and lips threatening to spill words she had been meaning to tell him for so long ago, her mouth attempting to speak those three words, but her voice not coming out. He lifted her face gently, tilting her head back, and brought their lips together again. Their lips met again, but this time even sweeter than before, pouring months and months of yearning into it. She pulls away and quickly plants another kiss on his lips before sneaking her arms around his neck and deepening their kiss. Surprised by her sudden boldness, he lets a soft moan escape his throat when her hands get tangled into his hair, dampening it, and she pulls his head down towards hers, while her fingers grasp gently at the short strands of her stuck to the name of his neck. With her mouth crashing into his, she parts her lips slightly, silently asking for entry, which he gladly grants. As his hands finally leave her face, he lets them wander lower on her body, tracing down her neck first, then her waist, he feels the thin fabric of her bathing suit stick to her skin; he tightens his grip on her and runs his thumb along her ribs, barely grazing her breast. She gasps, her hands flinching behind his head, she tilts her head to the side, kissing him deeper with new-found desperation to feel him closer. He groaned as her tongue licked his shamelessly, he finally settled his hand on her hip, breaking away from the kiss only to help her onto his lap. He kissed her again.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, from her neck all the way down to her thighs, everywhere he touched her left an imprint on her mind, she’ll never forget the feeling of his large hands caressing her body in such a way that left her breathless. With one last kiss, she broke away from him, breathing heavily. She just wanted to stare at him. His beautiful eyes, now darkened with lust looking back at her, his hair a mess from her attempts to pull him closer, his skin soft and shiny from the bath oils, all she could do was whine for more. He could barely catch his breath, and she was already leaving a trail of wet kisses along his throat; he gasped when she gently bit the skin where his collar bone met his neck. Her teeth were quickly replaced by her soft lips, she nibbled and sucked gently at his neck. He tried not to squirm under her touch, but her hands were running down from his chest to his toned stomach, he tensed when he felt her fingers settle at his waistband. He shuddered. 

“Touch me”, she whispered into his ear, “please.”

He growled at her sudden request, all too happy to oblige, he let his hand drop lower to her bottom and gave it a playful squeeze, making her whimper in return. Satisfied with her reaction, he cupped her breast with his other hand, and ran his thumb over her hardened nipple. She bit her lip and exhaled shakily into his ear, arching her back and pushing her chest closer to him, he kissed her lips again and gently started playing with her chest; she moaned unashamedly into the kiss and grabbed his hand on her chest, making him cup her breast fully. 

Her hands flew to his shoulder to keep herself steady, he squeezed her chest again, making her wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He felt her breath hitch and whine against his skin, her head resting in the crook of his neck; she hid her face from his eyes, feeling shy from the strangled gasps he got out of her. The thin straps of her bathing suit were brushed to the side, down her shoulders, and he hesitantly snuck his hand into her cleavage and palmed her breast again, squeezing it gently. She sighed and leaned towards his touch.

“More, Eiland.”, she begged him, her eyes shut in pleasure and her mouth alternating between sucking on his skin and panting against him. He smiled, knowing the effect he was having on her made him want to have her even more now. His fingers teased her nipple, leaving feather-light touches, intertwined with teasing flicks; she mewled and dug her nails into his back. 

“Eiland!”, she cried out, “please…” Her demands came out incomplete, but he could tell she needed him to touch her more intimately from the muffled cries she was mumbling into his ear. His hand slipped out of her bathing suit, leaving her breast exposed, and slipped down lower, in between her legs and into her bathing suit once more; he didn't need to ask her, when he felt her nod her head ‘yes’ and whispers soft, desperate affirmations into his ear. His fingers brushed against her thighs, then her lips; she shuddered again, feeling herself tense instinctively. 

“Are you alright?”, he asked her, his voice deep, not hiding his worrying about her.

“Yes.”, she hissed, and her hips stuttered back against his hand, “don’t stop.”

He sank his hand deeper into her bathing suit, fingers caressing and spreading her lips. He wouldn’t lie and say he’s a Casanova, his experience with the female body stopped at anatomy books and crude depictions of the naked figure on ancient tablets; but he knew what he was looking for. His long fingers exploring her sensitive folds, he dragged them higher, making sure to take note of what she liked when he touched her.

She gasped in surprise when he grazed his index against her bundle of nerves, and groaned when he deliberately ran his finger on her again, circling and rubbing it. Her head fell backwards, enjoying the new sensations he was making her experience, he leaned forwards and nipped gently at her neck while his fingers teased her below. He kissed and sucked softly at her skin, his one hand at the base of her spine, holding her close while his other hand alternated between encircling it gently and pressing his middle finger into it, making her grunt. As he moved his mouth and lips lower on her neck, she arched her back into his touch more, making her chest press into him, his fingers inched deeper between her legs as he liked her silky skin, giving her chest attention once again; she opened her eyes a crack. He was looking up at her through his pale eyelashes, matching his pale pink hair, his face buried between her breasts kissing the soft skin in between, his hand sinking deeper into the warm water. She felt his finger at her entrance and nodded.

“Eil-”, her broken cry of his name, was interrupted by another strangled moan. She had imagined her fingers were his late into the night before, but nothing could have prepared her for the real feeling of his strong hands sinking deeper between her legs. His middle finger pushed into her slowly, and easily from her arousal; despite not being touched, his breath got caught in his throat. She felt so warm and soft around his finger, he slowly added another finger, teasing it around her entrance and she sank down onto it impatiently; moaning needily. Now it was his turn to shudder, he felt her tight walls clench around his two fingers incessantly, so hot and silky, and he sighed against her hard nipple. She felt his breath tickle her breast and pushed it further into him, silently asking him for more; he kissed it softly at first, then, encouraged by the way her breath hitched, he licked the sensitive skin on her breast. She shut her eyes tightly again, the feeling of his skillful fingers exploring her insides, as his palm pressed and rubbed against her nub with every twitch of his fingers, his hot mouth on her nipple, teasing her relentlessly, making her gasp uncontrollably into the empty bath house. The feeling in her core heightened with each stroke and lick, she clutched onto his hair, pulling at it gently, not meaning to hurt him, but to let him know she’s close. He moaned against her chest, his drool running down his chin and her breast, he felt her clench and writhe on his fingers, he started spreading them slightly, enough to give her a satisfying stretch whenever he retracted his hand; she started trembling. Incomprehensible praises escaped her lips, and with one last thrust of his fingers inside of her, she spasmed around him with a sharp cry, panting heavily, unable to keep herself up anymore, she leaned back onto him, catching her breath on his shoulder. He supported her weight comfortably, and slowly retracted his hand from her bathing suit, kissing the skin behind her ear gently. She smiled satisfied, and sighed. Her legs, still shaking from the pleasure she had just felt, she lowered her body onto his lap, feeling his hardness press into her inner thigh.

The only sound heard throughout the bath house was the heavy panting from the pair, and the sloshing of the water as their bodies moved against each other, only overshadowed by their stuttered moans. His breath hitched when her index started gently tracing the outline of his cock through his shorts, she looked at him, her eyes asking him to let her continue. He felt dizzy at her touch, but made no sign to make her stop now, and leaned back against the bath, letting her hand roam his lower body more freely. She wasted no time and gave his shaft a teasing squeeze, making him gasp, followed by a quiet whimper. He swallowed when she slipped her hand into his shorts, and started stroking him slowly. His hand on her chest gripped her thigh tightly, and he shut his eyes, afraid the sight of her hand pleasuring him will make him lose his composure completely, the mere feeling of her panting against his neck enough to make the room spin.

“Does that feel good?”, she asked him quietly, her hot breath leaving goosebumps on his damp skin.

“... Yes.”, he groaned, “Tighter… faster, ngh, please.” His brain was useless at this point, only able to speak in short spurts before he was cut off by another moan. She sped up, as told, and stuttered another desperate moan in her ear. He opened his eyes, surprised by the sound he just made and saw her looking at him, mouth hanging open panting heavily, her lips red and plump from her fervent kissing, her hand moving rapidly under the water, making it splash against the sides of the bath, his eyes finally landed on his lap; he shuddered at the sight. She felt him twitch in her grip and resumed kissing his neck while massaging him. He threw his head back against the bath, giving her more access to his neck, which she quickly peppered in open-mouthed kisses too. The hand she had rested against his abdomen felt him tense up, and she knew he was getting closer to the edge, she began pumping him harder, leaving him a moaning mess beneath her. He twitched again, but quickly pushed her away this time, breathing heavily.

“I can’t…”, he said in between labored breaths, “... not here… in water.”

She whined when she felt him grab her wrist, but slipped her hand out of his shorts; he whimpered quietly, missing the feeling of her hand wrapping around him. They looked at each other, their eyes still filled with an unquenchable lust; she kissed him deeply but quickly before getting out of the bath and grabbing their towels, holding out his towel for him. He looks at her confused, taking the towel from her and slowly getting out of the bath. She was already standing by the exit when she looked back at him.

“Your place or my place?”, she asked him teasingly.

He gulped, not expecting their day to end in this. The prospect of spending more time with her excited him, but left him feeling nervous all the same. With large steps, he found himself next to her again, reaching for the door handle.

“Yours. You live alone.”, he answered, opening the door to the changing room for her.

“Good choice.”, she replied and kissed his cheek in passing. He blushed, after everything they’ve just done, he still blushed at the slightest contact with her. He touched his cheek where her lips just were and entered after her.

He felt his back hit the wall, as his hands tried to soften the blow, he felt hers on his body again. He was confused and aroused at the same time. His mouth and lips trying to form words, asking what she’s doing; her hands, that were cupping his face just moments ago, traveled down his body, along with her lips. She kissed and licked a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his chest, as he felt his heart thrum in his chest. She looked up at him, through half lidded eyes, and sank down to her knees in front of him; despite being out of the bath, the air felt heavy around him, and his legs felt weak, he gripped the wall paneling. He now understood what her intentions were, but actually seeing her kneeling in front of him, the way he’s only ever seen described in erotic literature, was a different feeling. 

“We can't have you leaving the bath house like this.”, she crawled closer to him, her face only a breath away from his crotch, she could feel the heat radiating from it, “Let me help you.”

He nodded quickly, betraying his impatience to feel her lips on him. She simply smiled up at him, the eagerness to feel him on her tongue visible in her dark eyes. She fumbled with the waistband again, a sudden wave of self-consciousness washing over her, but one look at her partner told her she had nothing to worry about; his eyes were softly looking at her, his hand gently resting on the top of her head. She felt no pressure from him, only unconditional love. His shorts slipped past his hips, and dropped on the floor, his cock sprang free and the cold air hitting his tip made him shudder. She licked her lips unconsciously, he was so very pretty through and through. She grasped his shaft and began pumping him again, just like she did in the bath, just now she was much closer to him than before. His body trembled, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, unsure if he should feel cold from leaving the bath or hot from seeing his perverse fantasy come to life in front of him. Her firm grasp made him buck his hips into her hand, leaving him a moaning and blushing mess. She saw a small bead of a transparent liquid forming at the tip of his cock, she swiped it away with her thumb; his knees almost buckled underneath him, and he leaned over her body in an attempt to stop himself from thrusting in her hand. She stopped, afraid she’d hurt him.

“Ah, wait!”, he moaned, holding onto her head for support, “Do it again.”

She obeyed and swiped her thumb over his flushed tip again, spreading the beads over her hands and his shaft. He groaned deeply, not caring who could hear them anymore, and slowly started bucking his hips again, wanting to feel her touch again and again. She let her hand move in sync with the thrusting of his hips, letting him take the lead and deciding the pace. Another larger bead started forming at his tip, curiosity overcoming her body, she leaned forwards and licked it up before it could drop on the tiles underneath them. It tastes sweet but bitter at the same time, unsurprising, considering the amount of berries and cream she had seen him consume during the summer.

“Aah-”, he gasped loudly and pushed his tip deeper in her mouth. He halted his bucking again, trying to keep himself from finishing yet; he grunted, and his hands caressed the nape of her neck softly and encouragingly. She closed her lips around him, enveloping his tip in her mouth, slowly circling it with her tongue. She traced his slit with the tip of her tongue, the soft, warm and wet muscles massaging his sensitive tip left him shaking and gasping uncontrollably. A strangled moan escaped his lips when she pushed her head deeper down his cock, now exploring his shaft with her tongue. He leaned back again, letting himself fuck her open mouth gently; one of his hands guiding her head up and down his shaft, the other over his mouth, trying to keep quiet in the face of an overwhelming urge to scream out her name in pleasure. 

“Ari, I'm-”, his sentence trailing into another moan, “Can I cum? Please?”, he begged her. She looked up at him, not breaking eye contact, as she slid down further on his cock, making him bite his hand to keep himself from making any more embarrassing sounds; he closed his eyes. The soft little moans and squirms coming from the man in front of her only making her feel more confident in making a mess of him, she bobbed her head happily, switching the pace whenever he made a particularly delicious sound. With her tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and her hand cupping his balls, she tried to take his full length into his mouth, the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat made her drool and her eyes watered, she gagged on him violently, and he pulled back in an instant. She looked at him, with tears in her eyes, and slid down his cock again, this time wrapping her hand around the base of it, and hollowed her cheeks. He felt her tongue press gently against his shaft, and played with his tip whenever she came up, building up a familiar tension in his body again. He was barely holding on anymore, the soft vibrations she was sending up his cock whenever she moaned only made him more desperate to spill himself in her mouth. His heavy breathing turned into desperate panting, and he thrust his hips faster into her fist and mouth, he felt the knot becoming undone and with a strangled moan, he felt his orgasm wash over him. 

She swallowed as much as she could, his load larger than she’d expected as she let him finish. He pulls out of her with a shiver and a short cry, breathing heavily. He felt his body relax after finishing, and waited for his heartbeat to stop thrumming in his chest. She rose to her feet again, slightly unstable from kneeling for so long, he held her hand as he helped her up, and wrapped his arms around her before she could react; with her head pressed against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat coming down again. He kissed her forehead.

“Thank you.”, he said. 

She laughed.

“Get dressed.”, she broke away from his embrace, “the night is still young."

 They quickly got dressed, stealing glances every once in a while when they thought the other wouldn't notice, and Ari snuck her head out the door.

“Coast is clear.”, she whisper-yelled back. “Only Dozy’s here.”

Eiland followed closely behind her, the last thing they want to do is arouse suspicion from Juniper, the bath house owner, who knows what she’ll say if she sees them exit the changing room at the same time. He gulped, realizing how risky it was to get intimate in the public bath with the farmer; he's glad no one was here to see them, only Juniper’s loyal dog, her part-time bookkeeper. He felt his lover shift in front of him and exit the still steamy changing room, and saw her slowly walk towards the front door, not wanting to wake the sleeping dog. He chuckled quietly, even in this situation, her love for animals prevailed, it was one of her best qualities. She turned around to beckon him to follow, and he did. 

The pair stepped outside, feeling the fresh evening breeze caress their skin, once again longing for each other's embrace; she took his hand on hers and pulled him to the side.

“Let’s take the long way, I don't wanna walk past the inn.”, she said, nudging her head towards the side passage along the river. He nodded silently, gave her hand a quick squeeze, and marched onwards towards her farm. She could barely contain a giggle when he practically dragged her behind him, her short but muscular legs unable to keep up with his pace. He eventually slowed down for her, but not before pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I’m sorry.”, he confessed, his voice muffled by her hair, “you’re just so hard to resist.”

She was once again left giggling like a love struck school girl, sporting what must have looked like a silly grin on her face, but to him she was pure perfection. He cupped her face again and kissed her passionately, their lips moving against each other in perfect harmony.

He pulled away from her, panting lightly and resting his forehead against hers. The sun shined a golden light on her, only making her eyes sparkle like stars on a clear summer night and her shine like the crystals she had brought to the museum many times. He could stay like this forever, basking in each other's presence, simply enjoying each other's touch, but the promise of seeing and feeling more of her body made him step away. He gazed down at her eyes, lips, then eyes again, the need to feel her lips on his just as strong as before.

“I love you.”, he whispered softly.

“I love you too.”, she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled. He felt happiness he never knew was possible, his worries seemed trivial when he was with her. He took her hand again, bowed down to it and pressed a soft kiss onto it. 

“Shall we be off?”, he asked, and she nodded. Her hand was still tingling from the gentle show of affection, he was so sweet, so kind, so gentle and in her eyes, an exemplary gentleman. She followed swiftly behind him, skipping steps down to her farm, making Eiland chuckle. 

The walk to her farm couldn't have been longer than a few minutes, but felt like an eternity. Once they crossed the bridge separating her farm from the prying eyes of the townsfolk, they could barely keep their hands off of each other; he snuck his arm around her waist as she leaned her head onto his shoulder, occasionally turning her head to receive a quick kiss on her lips. Finally, their feet hit the dirt path leading down to her farm, she fumbled with the keys in her pocket while he hugged her from behind and started kissing her neck once again. She leaned into his touch, enjoying the way his hands traced her figure and his lips brushed against her sensitive skin, making her shudder. With the door finally open, they wasted no time going inside, kicking their shoes off and connecting their lips again; he groaned into the kiss, having gone too long without tasting her again, he deepened it and cradled her head in his hands. With Eiland fully occupied with exploring her mouth with his tongue, she led them towards her bed, feeling the edge of it at the back of her knees, she sat down on it, pulling him towards her. Already missing the feeling of her lips again, he crawled on top of her, pushing her backwards on the soft cushions; she pulled his face closer, and only broke off the kiss when she started feeling lightheaded. 

“Ari.”, he said her name, while lifting his lilac shirt over his head, and carelessly dropping it on the floor. He wanted her, wanted to taste her. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, he felt her eyes on his body again, as his hands ran over her body again; first over her breast, feeling the thin fabric of her shirt and undergarment on his fingertips, then over her ribs, her toned stomach, finally resting on her hips, as his face left trails of kisses along her body. He looked up at her again, while his hands found the button of her pants, she nodded, licking her lips, and he undressed her lower half with one swipe, leaving her bare for his viewing. He removed her pants completely, making them join his shirt on the floor, and she tried to close her legs again, feeling her face flush as his hot breath caressed her inner thigh, but his large hand pushed them further apart, leaving her a blushing mess. He took a moment to stare at the picture in front of him; she’s looking at him, her mouth slightly parted gasping softly, her hands gripping the bedsheets underneath her, her eyes focused on his, staring down at him equally excited and impatient to feel his touch. He had to stop himself from grinding his hips into the mattress, his cock already begging for attention again. He brought his head down to her thighs, kissing and nipping at them, until his lips felt a wet warmth spread over her inner thighs. She gulped when she felt him approach his core, her hand leaving the bedsheet and tugging softly at his hair, wanting him to finally touch her. He dipped his head lower, kissing her soft wet lips once; then once again, and again, she gasped loudly and arched her back off the bed, pushing his face deeper into her core. He licked his lips, tasting her arousal on them, making him moan against her soft skin, now unable to stop his own lips anymore, he drove them into the mattress, the luxurious material of his pants rubbing gently against his needy cock, left him groaning in pleasure. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling them closer and burying his nose between her folds, he licked a large trail from her entrance up to her sensitive bundle, over and over again, making her shiver once again, barely able to contain the low growl that escaped her throat. 

“Eiland!”, she whimpered, attempting to stop herself from crying by biting her hand. He looked up at her, his long pink hair falling into his face, sticking to his forehead. His head dipped even lower between her legs, now gently licking circles around her entrance, teasing her, making her want more. Her mouth fell open and a broken cry escaped her mouth, her hips twitched, unable to move away from his grasp, she was left at his mercy, and she closed her eyes, accepting her fate. He smiled against her folds, satisfied with her reaction, he pressed an open kiss against her entrance before dipping his tongue inside of her, painstakingly slow, he made a show of moaning whenever a gush of arousal hit his tongue; he buried his face deeper between her thighs again, wanting to lick and taste more of her, his chin covered in his drool and her arousal, he felt her walls clench against his tongue. Feeling her so close made him rock his hips against the soft mattress harder, desperate to feel her clench around his cock instead. He drew his head back, panting heavily, she whined at the sudden loss of his tongue against her core, only to arch her back and cry out when he replaced it with his fingers, spreading them inside of her, pumping them in and out, spreading her open. As his fingers worked on her, he felt them slicken, making an obscene sound whenever he pushed them inside of her again; he watched as they disappeared in her, searching for that special spot that he knew would make her scream his name until she was hoarse. He licked his lips in anticipation, wet sounds and her quiet whimpers filled the otherwise quiet room. His fingers dug into her insides, rubbing and spreading her open.

“Eiland-”, her cry cut off by another moan, he knew he found what he was looking for, and his head dipped between her folds once more, now licking and sucking at her hard clit; having him moan around her sent another uncontrollable shudder down her spine, and with his fingers rubbing her insides relentlessly, she finally cried out his name, and felt her body spasm, as her orgasm washed over her. She kept his head in a tight grip between her thighs, he kept at it until she whined and tugged at his hair strands gently, telling him to let go. He lifted his head, eyes glazed over and his chin was glistening in the soft evening sun flowing in through the curtains.

He crawled up her body again and kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips, an unusual feeling, but just as erotic. She moaned unashamedly against his lips and pulled him on top of her, feeling his hardened erection against her thigh. She rubbed her leg against him, and he rolled his hip against her in a desperate attempt to find some relief. He panted into the kiss, groaning as his twitching length pressed into her hot skin, his hands snuck under her shirt, pushing it up to her neck, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over her head; she sat up, pushing him backwards and making him kneel between her legs. Her shirt landed ungracefully at the end of the bed, and his hands snuck around her body to unclasp her bra while hers went to his pants to free his cock again; she reached into his pants and started stroking him before pulling his pants down his hips, just enough for it to bounce against his stomach, as she now rubbed him freely outside of his restrictive garments. He groaned against her lips again, leaning into her touch as his hands stripped her straps off her shoulder and cupped her bare breast; his face flushing more as their moans grew louder and heavier, the heat emanating from their bodies burned as hot as their passion for one another. He pushed her back on the bed, hovering over her.

“Are you ready?”, he asked her, his eyes focused on hers, who stared back at him.

“Yes.”, she whispered, caressing his cheek sensually.

He nodded at her approval, positioning himself between her legs again, he lined himself up with her entrance and pushed in slowly, feeling her walls throb and stretch around him. She gasped breathlessly, the gentle, but stinging stretch of his cock felt heavenly, completely different from his fingers. He stilted his hips, waiting and wanting her to adjust to his size first, afraid he’ll hurt her if he moves now. After a few moments that felt like an eternity, she began writhing underneath him, and he knew he could proceed pushing himself deeper in her warm, silky pussy; his eyes shut tightly, trying to focus on not coming just yet. The soft, squelching sounds she made when he pushed in deeper along with the clench of her walls made his head spin, but he kept entering her, as she panted and moaned softly. 

He allowed himself a second to breathe deeply when he felt his entire length inside of her, basking in the warm feeling surrounding him. She reached for his hand, which was clutching the bedpost, trying to steady himself, and intertwined their fingers, kissing his knuckles gently.

“I’m okay, Eiland.”, she said quietly, “please?”

Her tone sounded more like a request rather than a question, and he started sliding his cock in and out of her, slowly at first. Her thumb rubbing encouraging circles against his, he felt his hips move faster, pushing in more of himself with each thrust. He settled into a comfortable pace, where he could still kiss her softly and drive his cock deeper into her; she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to grind into her further. Her eyes focused on his, staring deeply at one another as they panted in sync with the wet sound emitting from their bodies. He felt his muscles tense and bucked his hips into hers vigorously, hitting that familiar spot inside of her once more. She cried out in pleasure, as tears started forming in the corner of her eyes, unable to hold back anymore, she threw her head back and arched her body into his; fitting together like puzzle pieces, he drove his cock into her fervently as she squeezed him between her thighs, feeling another orgasm approach. Her legs began shaking, and she moaned loudly whenever he pounded into her, making him want to fuck her harder; his breathing became more erratic, a sheen of sweat covered his face, making his long bangs stick to his forehead, he was getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Ari, I-”, he was interrupted by a deep groan as his cock bottomed out in her, “I’m close.”

“Y-yes.”, she nodded vigorously, “please!”

Her legs closed behind his back and he was unable to pull away anymore. She pulled him towards her body and dug her fingernails into his back, leaving small dents on his skin. She felt his hips snap against her furiously, just as his hand snuck in between their bodies again to play with her hard clit. Unable to keep her voice down anymore, she cried out his name as she came on his cock, quivering and shaking from the strong orgasm washing over her body. His body didn’t stop moving, letting her ride out her high, and he followed soon after, sinking his cock deep into her and spilling his seed; he moaned her name as he came, leaving his lips like a prayer. 

He collapsed on her, trying to catch his breath again, as he pulled out of her, whining quietly as his cum spilled out of her. He kissed her, their tongues flirting with one another one last time, before he rolled over and sighed deeply. She grabbed his hand, giggling, and cuddled up to him, trying to ignore how sticky and sweaty they both were. 

“I love you”, she said, smiling happily at him, “I’m so glad we shared that bath together.” He laughed, agreeing silently with her, still trying to catch his breath. He never expected his day to take a turn in this direction, but he was very happy it did. She nuzzled her face closer to his.

“Do you want to go to the inn tomorrow,” she asked shyly, “together, I mean.” 

He smiled, her flushed face betrayed her nervousness about asking him out. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

“Of course, my sweet.”

[artwithoutblood]

I was thinking about how Dorian is so isolated in part because the people willing to come to him are also very busy with their own responsibilities.

I know the demons assign themselves their own job, choose their own purpose, but is there anything that inherently goes with the role? Anything that makes a particular ex-human suitable to become a vessel? All seem to be involved with documenting and preserving traces of humanity.

Dorian is the keeper of heretical and false knowledge, safely confining it and keeping it from passing out of existence.

Erebus has accepted the role of archiving and documenting humanity via a museum of books and artifacts. Like a writer writing us down.

Samir weaves and governs nightmares. I headcanon that he preserves the nightmarish events of humanity like war by weaving them as tapestries. 

Forming a reminder the way a bad experience becomes inextricably embedded in your subconscious, ancestral fears and memories hardwired not to repeat history. I think many awful events reoccurred for humanity without Samir's guidance, during a time where he was distracted chasing down Silas.

Genesis seems to echo the oral traditions via music. He’s always progressing but always a decade or so behind, carrying the past forward.

So what is Aeron’s aim? Is there anything they do as part of their function that we haven't seen yet? (Outside of art, sharing the parasight and the events of Limerence.)

It seems that through their art and mementos they’re documenting individuals, people who would otherwise be forgotten. The way historians seek to piece together the lives of past individuals and do facial reconstructions, but… in the opposite order. Perhaps for future demons in their role to remember these people, to document humans in a social way, or as a reminder of each short lived mortal's humanity.

I also thinking that they’re doing it for sentimental reasons too. Or maybe it has nothing to do with their job. They don’t think that connection can last for them, so they freeze the person in time as an artistic depiction, keep them in amber.

I'm not even sure if I'm writing Art Without Blood in its old form, since I'm modifying a lot of things, so I'll state one thing: to get the true ending of his route, the player would have had to collect small items collected from each of Aeron's lovers. This would unlock a room that would have just been small shrines of paintings and pretty colors and candles.

Aeron's passive job is observing everyone. That's what they do when they sit silently, unmoving, eyes glazed over. Delusion works while Aeron is awake. Sort of situation.

You're mostly correct, though. They're interesting where they don't like to make eternal art (as in, of the bodies) of the people they love most. They prefer portraits and detailed accounts. Diaries, almost.