Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@folkkways
Indie OC Multimuse
Highly private/selective. Slow activity. Multi-verse, multi-ship, crossover friendly.
This is not my main blog which means activity will be much slower.
Penned by Saturn (she/her, 30+), minors do not enter.
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Zuhair Murad | Fall/Winter 2025 Couture
"Oh, I love it," he assures, lips curling into a smirk as he admires the sheer material...and the curves of her incredible body. "I am very lucky indeed to be married to such a beautiful woman," he murmurs, sincerely.
His hands continue to roam across the thin fabric, fingertips trailing down her waist and across her hips, before moving back upwards and brushing against the curve of her breasts. The sound of her moan sends a jolt of arousal coursing through him, and when he pulls back to admire her his gaze his dark and heavy-lidded.
"Ah. I fear I have become a terrible husband. Leaving my wife alone and wanting in our bed? Frankly, that is not acceptable. I shall make it up to you at once," he playfully assures and he stands, effortlessly carrying her in his arms as he heads back towards their bedroom.
She'd no doubt he would enjoy it in the back of her mind, given the way he appreciates her so. Even when she's dressed in a full on gown, he always looks at her that way with the glint in his gaze. The feeling is confidence in gold filigree.
"Buttering me up, I see, my king." She teases with a smile, blonde waves glowing ethereal in the low light of the study mingled with streaming moonlight. "Though I say the same." Caer has always been taken with him, and that feeling hasn't ebbed one bit even from the day they met, where she'd been speechless on the staircase for a heartbeat before he took her hand, breaking the spell. She inhales softly at his hands fondling her so gently, and she bites her smiling lip as she leans closer.
His sweet teasing remarks have her giggling quietly in his arms as he stands without putting her down: his strength, in many contexts of the word, astounds and inspires her. And given she feels practically naked in his arms, she is happy to be whisked away by him to their bedroom. Lips idly find his jaw and neck, peppering kisses where she can reach, arms wrapped around his neck, toying with the hair there. "I've missed you." Even though they'd only seen one another a handful of hours ago, the feeling had intensified of late, and she couldn't stand much of the time they were apart.
Favourite Designs: Teuta Matoshi ‘Midnight Rose Flower’ Gown
@shesnipes asked: Sneakily (for Kaida!)
It was a rather big fundraiser they went out to, and Kaida had invited Amity along under the pretext she was her date. There were no masks or talons here, no titles, she was simply Kaida. And Amity beside her in a dress that had the young mafia queen speechless, starstruck, even. Between the lingering glances she cast to the young blonde and the gentle touches that left their marks like a ghostly breath, it was no wonder they sat together at the table where they were eating and enjoying idle conversation with some big wigs Kaida hardly cared to indulge in veiled bribes.
As she sipped her wine, glancing around at some of her security detail who always came along and mingled as inconspicuously as they possibly could, there was a sudden sensation that gave her pause. She glances at Amity, then down, and finds the other woman's hand on her thigh. The butterflies surge in her stomach as she watches that hand move higher ever so slowly, the glass of wine still held up to her lips to hopefully help distract from any show of a blush on her cheeks.
Subconsciously, Kaida shifts delicately towards Am, so their knees touch beneath the table. An invite for continued touch, a request not to stop.
that moment when some sort of demon princess of hell or some such girl is comin to mind, will j.ennifer c.onnelly finally come up as an fc?? maybe....
Ana Božičević, from Rise in the Fall; “Anxiety of Influence”
With her hands tightly clinging to Wynn's, her own nervousness is quickly forgotten. There seems no danger here, in such a beautiful, tranquil place, even though Kiara is not confident that she would be able to keep herself afloat, let alone swim. Wynn would not allow her to go too deep, nor let her head dip under the water. The water is wonderfully refreshing, and she feels herself relax as she admires their surroundings.
"It is beautiful," she agrees, and a smile returns to her lips. "If you could teach me how to swim, perhaps I can appreciate the water more?" The surface of the lake is lapping gently against her waist, and this is certainly the deepest water she has ever dared step into. She tries not to stare too much at the way the damp fabric of Wynn's thin, silk dress clings so delightfully around the curve of her breasts.
Wynn can harness all the magic she wants here, that is one stark difference in her assurance that she can indeed keep Kiara safe here. Even if she has yet to learn the nature of her magic itself, whether it is protective in nature or defensive, she will learn in due time. But helping her float by conjuring up a bed of lily pads to carry the both of them over the water sounds heavenly. But she won't do that just yet, allowing her lover to adjust to the temperature and feel of the water around her.
And as she watches Kiara begin to relax, admiring the little lake, her heart surges with love for her. "I can teach you, though it may be unorthodox." Fae really had no reason to swim, merely bathe and lavish in the water on hot days, lending credence to all the paintings and art done of fairies in the modern world. They can still enjoy a good swim, but really only within the realm. And perhaps a blush of her own touches her cheeks as she notices just where Kiara's eyes darted to, so briefly.
It doesn't phase her. The fae are quite comfortable with such displays.
"We can keep walking for a while, this doesn't go too much deeper. I don't want to overwhelm you." Which she truly doesn't, that would bother her if she frightened Kiara in any way.
He smiles as she corrects him - his wife is, perhaps, just about the only person he would tolerate to do such a thing. He knows the logic and wisdom in her words; he will not help anyone if he is too exhausted to think straight the next day.
He turns in his chair to finally meet her gaze. As he does so, he notices the robe she is wearing for the first time, and his lips twist into an appreciative smirk, one hand reaching out to trace over the thin fabric. "Oh. This is very nice," an arm wraps around her waist, and he pushes the chair backwards from the desk so he can bring Caerwyn down onto his lap.
"If I had known I was missing this I would have been in bed hours ago," he playfully admits, his hands roaming over the thin material which left very little to the imagination. "I thought you were asleep." He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, but he quickly gives into temptation and deepens the kiss, humming into her mouth.
Caer can't help the blush ghosting her cheeks as she watches his reaction as he turns towards her, finally admitting defeat in their little debate. Only she'd briefly forgotten how being beneath his gaze as such leads to a fire igniting within her. "I hoped you'd like it." She says breathlessly. And with but a sweep of his arm around her waist, mimicking that of a turn in a waltz, she sits in his lap delicately.
In a way she's always felt small beside her husband, but maybe that's not all a bad thing when he can whisk her away like so.
His hands feel as if they are brands against her through the sheer material, making her shiver ever so slightly with a soft chuckle. "Perhaps I should wear it every night, then, to entice you." She offers with her own tease before he's kissing her sweetly, and suddenly it evolves into something breathtaking. So much so, in fact, she leans into him with a soft moan, arms wrapping around his neck, one hand toying with the short strands of his hair as she comes up for air. "I find of late I can't sleep without you." Gazing into his eyes as she leans in for a tender kiss.
She knows how heavy their burden is, sometimes she loses her breath just from allowing thoughts to run away with her of the toll it has on both of their kingdoms and citizens alike. To wonder at the hurt it must cause her husband, at the worry, anger and everything in between, well, it drowns her. So she nuzzles him where he chooses to cling to for comfort and revel in it. Moments like this she wants to cherish, even if they hurt.
"We have so much to do." She quietly corrects, affirming they are in this together. That they not carry the weight of duty alone. For hope, if nothing else. Caerwyn hums at his touch to her arms and feels a blush come to her cheeks, wondering if she was too bold in assuming he'd want a distraction like she did. But as he leans into her, she gently squeezes him, allowing the pressure to cradle him.
"You'll be more aware and prepared with a well rested mind, my love." She supplies, holding him and not quite letting go just yet, though she savors the contact beyond all else. "We're needed at our brightest. I admire your persistence, but you must rest. It'll lead us to victory in the long run."
@kingcenred {xx}
the queue will run out this week, here's to hoping i can get back here soon cause the girls are so much fun 🤍
In Tívoli, Italy
Stay. She can hardly believe Wynn is asking such a thing of her, that she truly deserves her company. Why, after all, would a beautiful Fae princess wish for her company, when she was such an oddity? A human, with magic. An abomination.
"You truly want me to stay?" she asks, her voice clearly awestruck, and the temptation to close the fraction of space between their lips is too much...and she kisses her again.
She doesn't quite know how much time passes, lost as she is in the soft entwine of their fingers together and the delightful press of Wynn's lips against her own, but when she finally pulls back she realises that she has yet to reply to her request.
"Of course I'll stay. I would be honoured to stay, for as long as you will have me," she assures, her eyes bright as she meets Wynn's gaze. "There is nothing left for me in the human realm. Everything I care about is right here," she admits, and even in the blissful wonder that Kiara feels almost drunk on, a flush of colour raises to her cheeks at the boldness of her own words.
Kiara's question is barely heard for they are kissing again, so sweetly that Wynn slowly loses herself in the passion of it all. She tries not to deepen the kisses too much, not to let herself fly freely with the desire holding her so strongly in the moment. Besides, that little nagging in the back of her mind that her sweetling needs rest is paramount to any of her own wants at the moment.
Her wings flutter at the acceptance of the statement and a bright smile soon wins over the features of the princess, having softly gone into a gentle melancholy just beforehand. "You can stay until you no longer wish to. " She listens to her friend's words and notices how she goes a bit rosy at the admission of something so bold as where she belongs, and Wynn has a quick answer on a soft voice like the velvet of a rose petal. "This realm is your home now, Kiara." Foreheads rest together and brush here or there when Wynn may move away subtly to glance into the other woman's face, into those eyes she could drown in. "The magic will accept and pamper you in due time, and it'll be like you always were here."
Wynn leans in to steal the softest of kisses before pulling back. "But I must refrain from more. You need your rest now, after all you've been through." She says with a gentle seriousness. "I've some clothes that should fit you, or will be close enough while we have some made, but we'll go wandering around once you can walk easily enough. Please, have some more to eat for now, regain your strength." She doesn't mean to be a mother hen, far from it, Wynn is simply holding back her fretfulness over Kiara before it gnaws a hole in her stomach.
alicia agneson
His new wife's words - in Essetirian, no less - matter more than he cares to admit, and he smiles at her approach. "Oh, I have no doubt that a speech from you would have a similar impact. I hear that their new Queen is popular indeed," he assures.
Much of his attention is quickly distracted by her gorgeous robe, however, and he cannot stop his tongue from swiping out across his bottom lip as he admires her.
"You look wonderful," he informs her, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer to his side. So far, their arrangement was certainly succeeding on the military front; they had already freed an impressive number of people from Uther's oppression, yet there was still much work to be done.
Time would tell if it would succeed personally, but there was no doubting Cenred's attraction to his new wife. He found it decidedly hard to keep his hands to himself.
"Shall we dance?" he asks, as he entwines their fingers together.
She can't help but smile and duck her head at his words. The confidence he has within her and his people is sweet, much unexpected of him, for some reason. Perhaps she's been a little too nervous to see it amid the outlook on all of this being positive so far, all the successes overshadowing the feeling that she had been accepted no matter what.
"You're too kind, my dear." Caerwyn muses. She'd been dropping little terms of endearment here or there simply out of habit, but they had been far too easy to slip out of late. They suited him, she felt, they gravitated to him before she even had the inclination to stop them from rolling off her tongue. And as he grasps her hand and pulls her nearer, a flutter of butterflies swells in her stomach as she is drawn in fluidly, gazing up at her new husband with thinly veiled adoration in her gaze. "Thank you. I thought it best to try to match you, it might be nice to sport a resemblance for strength's sake."
In actuality, she had worn this one with the hope he'd enjoy her within it, but it just happened to match what he wore easily enough, so she could hide behind that explanation.
"Please." Tenderly in response to his question, dying to dance with him in such a moment as this. But she hopes perhaps later, they might have the opportunity to do so alone, in the low light of a dying fire. Nevertheless, she allows him to guide her, and she remains tucked as close as is possible to be.
