#4548

[tippysattic]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: VTG Fur brown facinator 8x8x2.

[quiltofstars]

M91 // Ralph MacDonald

A barred spiral galaxy, M91 is the faintest object in the Messier catalog and the last group of eight galaxies that Messier discovered in 1781.

This was also a "lost" object for nearly two centuries. Messier made a mistake in logging his observations, writing this galaxies position with respect to M58 instead of M89. Although William Herschel (1738-1822) suspected this mistake in 1784, he was unsure. It took amateur astronomer William C. Williams in 1969 to recover this "lost" galaxy!

[steal-this-idea]

Biden still has the opportunity to fuck up a lot of dipshit's 4547 merchandise by also resigning at some point, making Harris the 47th President

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - Masturbation: Jugram Haschwalth x Female Reader

By popular vote, this is posted today!

Summary: The seasons come and go. Summer, spring, autumn, and winter leave memories of you, your piano and knight Jugram Haschwalth, haunting your mind.

TW: MDNI! This is a historical AU (the time period is purposefully unclear), where you are Yhwach’s niece. Classism, implied gender and class roles, unrequited feelings, infidelity, arranged marriage. Mutual masturbation. This is kind of melancholic for the most part.

Word count: (the longest so far!) 4548

Read on AO3 here.

It’s autumn and you’re standing on the tips of your toes to watch the new pages practice with wooden swords.

They look small, like you, with childlike wonder as they hold their makeshift swords. Their eyes are filled with wonder and excitement. Except for one.

One of the shortest of the bunch, a boy with brilliant blonde hair, looks at his sword with concern and hesitation. He gives it a weak swing; you swear he looks like he’s trembling. Another boy, with dark red hair, yells at him, scaring the blonde boy, forcing his head up. You press your face against the window for a better look.

“He’s so pretty.” You said out loud, when one of your maids tugs your hand away from the scene.

“Mistress! Remove your face from the window this instance!” Your caretaker rushes to you, pulling you away from the view below. “You must attend your piano lessons. Don’t mind those boys.” Your caretaker scolds you, holding your hand firmly as you’re led away from the window. As you move away, you see the little blonde boy look up and you give him a wave as you’re pulled away.

It's autumn and you rather be playing outside in the fallen leaves with the blonde boy who doesn’t want to hold his sword.

Your piano teacher waits for you in the music room, where your black, grand piano awaits. It’s massive compared to your piano teacher, it’s even bigger compared to you. The piano is near another window, one that is open. The light breeze fills the room with a faint scent of fallen leaves and the grunts and yelps of the pages practicing outside. Your piano teacher, a lean, young man with blonde hair but not as pretty as the blonde boy outside you thought, approaches you. He gave you a grin, “little lady, you’ve kept me waitin’!” His voice has a bit of an accent, you were told he came from lands “far, far away.”

Your caretaker taps your shoulder, reminding you of your manners, “I’m sorry Mr. Hirako. Please excuse my tardiness.” You recite, your tone monotonous. Words repeated and echoed through your etiquette training.

Mr. Hirako lets out a snicker, “don’t worry about it, miss. Let’s get you warmed up with some scales.”

You watch your caretaker leave the room once Mr. Hirako ushers you to your seat. The notes glide off your fingertips, as Mr. Hirako watches you with intensity. Scale after scale, note after note, your music fills the room, echoing nearby.

The pages, who were done for the day, walk away from their practice session. But the little blonde boy hears the distant sound of piano playing and walks closer. He watches you, the little girl from the window. He stares at you in awe and envy, as he listens to your music playing. “Jugo! Whatcha doin’?! We gotta hurry back, Sister Retsu will get angry at us if we’re late!” The red-haired boy from earlier yells, slapping “Jugo’s” back. He pulls at the blonde boy’s sleeves, dragging him away from the window, while the blonde boy just stares until you’re out of his view.

It’s winter and beautiful. Fresh snow covers your manor in a haunting shade of white. It leaves your manor in absolute silence. There is no one around, and so you open the window in your piano room. There’s a slight chill in the air, but you love it nonetheless. The atmosphere helps you with your concentration.

Your recital approaches and you stare at your music sheets. You read over Mr. Hirako’s instructions and tips to steel yourself for your first recital. Little slips of paper stick out of your music books, while notes and coloured markings fill sections on what you need to practice, reminders to yourself of mistakes you have made.

You warm up with selections from Hanon’s Virtuoso Pianist. Scales, arpeggios and everything in between fly from your fingers. It feels effortless, your mind is focused and clear. You begin the first piece of your recital’s repertoire, Bach’s Fugue No. 16 from the second book of his Well-Tempered Clavier. The notes start heavy, with your fingers increasing in speed as bars fly from your vision.

Snap.

You stop playing, the loud snap shaking you out of your concentration. An animal wouldn’t have made such loud noises, it sounded like footsteps, you thought. You peer down the window and see the blonde boy of your youth, now a squire. His blonde hair is past his ears now, and he dons a black, long-sleeved tunic with your uncle’s family crest above his chest with white pants. He looks startled to see you, as you are of him.

You give him a polite smile and wave to him, but he doesn’t respond. It wasn’t just his hair that grew, you realized. The pages who trained endlessly, day after day, in sunshine, rain or snow, have now became squires. The changing of seasons and time reflected their physical growth as well. The blonde boy was now a teen, and he was tall, taller than you are now.

“Wait!” You yell at him, as he begins to walk away. You run through your manor, pushing past servants until you see him outside.

It’s winter and terribly cold, but you don’t care. The blonde teen looks startled to see you, and you were right, he was taller than you.

“Mistress, you shouldn’t be out here.” His voice is shaky as he tries step away from you.

“I’m fine!” You shout. He smiles weakly at you.

“How can I be of service to you, Mistress?” The teen asks, bowing his head at you.

You click your tongue disapprovingly, “we’re the same age, right?” You say, introducing yourself and extending your hand. The teen avoids your gaze and open palm as he whispers your name.

He ignores your question, “I’m Jugram Haschwalth, Lord Yhwach’s squire.” He says, finally looking at you. Hesitation and anxiousness fill his voice.

His eyes are a brilliant shade of green, reminding you of the meadows in springtime. You repeated his name over and over again, “I’ll definitely be able to remember that! And besides, I knew you were one of my uncle’s squires.” You laughed, “I just didn’t know your name.”

“Oh, right…” Jugram said softly.

The winter chill is creeping up through your clothes, as the two of you stand awkwardly.

“You’ll do anything I say, Jugram?” You ask, as you stare at him, you notice his posture, the way he slouches, and how he holds his arm behind his back.

He looks at you briefly, then looks away, “yes.”

“Then come listen to me practice!” You exclaim, “I need an audience anyways. I have my first recital coming.” You beamed at him, trying to get Jugram to relax a little.

He looks at you and then back to his feet, “I can’t –” and he immediately regrets his words, as disappoint washes over your face, “I mean, I can stay for one song.” He offers.

You give him a grin and bring him inside.

Music fills the room as Jugram watches you play. His back is straight as an arrow, but not out of confidence, but out of nerves. I don’t belong here, he thinks to himself.

But your music snaps him out of his thoughts as you continue to play your pieces. Before he even realizes, he’s smiling as he watches you play. You beamed at him from your seat, as you continued to play. You look back to your music sheets and close your eyes, your fingers having memorized every note and crescendo.

You come to a stop. Without looking up, you ask “Will you come to my recital, Jugram?” But he was gone. The room empty once again.

It’s spring, and you’re struggling to breathe. Your caretaker watches you as the seamstress tightens your corset. Your débutante ball is tonight and all your etiquette training, tutoring and classes prepared you for this night. You were to be presented as a young woman of upper society.

You looked at yourself in the mirror: rosy lips, lashes long and thick, hair styled tastefully, with an exceptionally beautiful silk ball gown. An elegant necklace drapes over your décolletage, with matching earrings already in place. You were to be a vision to guests and suitors alike.

It’s spring and you were dreading nightfall. Upper society was so stiff with its rules and mannerisms. Your one solace was your piano. As the seamstress continues her tightening, you stare at your hands, covered in matching silk gloves as your dress. Long and thin, evidence of the years of piano playing etched on every single finger. You chuckled to yourself as the memories of Mr. Hirako’s tutelage floods your mind.

You rather prepare for another recital than for a ball. Sighing, you turned your head and looked out the window, the setting sun in the distance. It fills your room and the nearby meadows with a golden glow.

You wonder if Jugram will be there tonight. It had been a few years since that day in the music room. He never came to your recital, but he was always around the manor, practicing, training, preparing with the other squires.

Well, you gave a quiet laugh, he wasn’t a squire anymore. The once shy boy and nervous teen was now a calm, talented and confident knight. A faint blush spreads your face at the thought of him. He would politely engage with you if you were nearby, asking you about your music, how you were, and what was occupying your time, but he would never acknowledge your first recital, or any recitals you invited to him after that. On the rare occasion he would sit and listen to you to play, maybe that’s a recital in it of itself, you mused. He would applaud you once you were finished but spoke only a few words about your music and talent.

You two would be in the same room, but sometimes it felt like you were distances apart. A wall between him and you that your only your music would lower.

You weren’t sure if he was a friend or not. You would watch him from afar, how he commanded his small troop with a cool confidence. His once bruise-covered, shaking arms, held his sword and shield with grace and poise, while he was distant and cold with his men, there was a soft, respectful and caring tone with you.

The seamstress stepped away from you, finished with your dress and admiring her work, “she’s ready.”

Your caretaker eyes are filled with love and awe, “you look magnificent, Mistress! You’ll be the talk of the ball tonight.” You gave her a wry smile, “thank you.”

It’s spring and you were wistful, looking out your carriage. Your manor grows smaller in the distance as the night grows darker.

The carriage comes to a halt in front of the castle. The castle was large and imposing, made of bright white stone. Women and men dressed in exquisite silk, satin and velvet, as they mingled, chatted and drank through the halls.

You were immediately escorted to another room, with other ladies who were preparing for their debut as well. You recognized some of them – classmates and acquaintances from your lessons. You politely nodded your head at them, but kept your distance, rather looking out the window instead.

“Ugh, he’s so boring.” You heard one woman say, loudly. Her brown, almost black hair was styled in a French twist with a thin tiara on top of her head. Her dress was red, it almost reminded you of blood.

“Bambietta, he’s your fiancé!” Another woman with blonde hair in loose curls and a seafoam-coloured gown, whispered harshly. You pretended not to pay attention to them but watched them through the faint reflection of the window.

Bambietta Basterbine, you recalled. The daughter of a weapons manufacturer who was close to your uncle. You had only met her a handful of times but found her quite rude with how she treated servants and those of lower rank.

“No, it’s insulting!” Bambietta scoffed, “if he weren’t one of Lord Yhwach’s most trusted knights, he wouldn’t even be here. He is a peasant in knight’s armour.” She sneered. Your ears twitched, one of your uncle’s knights?

“But at least he’s handsome… Lord Yhwach has some pretty ugly soldiers in his army.” Her blonde friend quipped, trying to diffuse the situation.

You could see Bambietta roll her eyes, “and he’s probably terrible in bed. His friend, you know the one with the black hair. Hubert?” Bambietta grinned, licking her lips, “he was fun. And besides, I’ll have my pick of the litter if he doesn’t satisfy me.” Bambietta said with a dismissive tone.

Your eyes widened from hearing their conversation, but you kept your cool. This was between her and her fiancé. Although... Hubert… you knew vaguely of him within your uncle’s army… he was Jugram’s second-in-command.

You felt your body churn out of anxiety, but your heart felt like it was crumbling.

An older madame entered the room and ushered all the ladies together, including you. You were each to be escorted by a knight as you descended the royal steps. Your stomach was in knots with anxiety creeping up your body.

Bambietta was to be in front of you and you could tell she was in a foul mood with the way she was pouting and glaring at you and everyone in the room.

And soon, the knights entered. You recognized Jugram immediately, one of the taller knights. You thought you saw his eyes widen as he saw you, but his gaze diverted to Bambietta. He was decorated in a fine white uniform, reminding you of snow, with a turquoise fur trim running along his jacket and gold fixtures. His sword fastened at his hip, and long blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. “Bambietta” Jugram said, a bit coldly you thought. He held his hand to Bambietta, who scoffed and begrudgingly held it.

You were one of the few without a fiancé and were to be assigned a knight to escort you tonight. Hubert, the man in your uncle’s army, the second-in-command to Jugram, and Bambietta’s bed partner, gave you a small smile and bowed, taking your hand, “it’ll be my honor to escort you tonight, milady.”

You gave a sad smile and extended your hand. He kissed the back of your hand, and you wanted to wince. But you recalled your etiquette training and remained polite.

The train of knights and ladies descended the steps as orchestral music filled the hall. You looked ahead of you, to Jugram’s back, as he confidently escorted Bambietta down the steps.

“Announcing Lady Bambietta of the Basterbine family, escorted by her fiancé, Grandmaster Jugram Haschwalth.”

Then it was you and Hubert, stepping down to the marble floor. Once all the pairs were called upon, the first dance commenced. You smiled politely as Hubert held you. His grip was too tight on your hip and arm, as you winced while you danced. Eventually the song came to an end, and you parted ways.

The elites of the upper society began to swarm you, prodding you on to take Hubert as a fiancé, how your uncle would support you on the endeavour, but you politely declined. Stepping away from the crowd, you found a balcony to decompress, and people watch.

Some couples were dancing still, including Jugram and Bambietta. Their movements were fluid and graceful. You could hear in the distance guests gossiping about them, how beautiful their family would be.

Once the song ended you followed Jugram to another balcony outside. He was shocked to see you, eyes wide as you tried to gather courage for what you were about to say.

“Bambietta isn’t good for you!” You yelled, as sadness enveloped you, “she’s been sleeping with Hubert, and has no issues with seeing other men besides you.”

The look Jugram gave you scared you. Cold, lifeless green eyes staring into your soul. “It’s my duty to Lord Yhwach to marry who he sees fit.” He stared at you, his voice devoid of its usual warmth for you, “it doesn’t matter to me, as long as she’s happy.” He pushed you aside, walking back to the hall, leaving you alone on the balcony.

It was spring and you wanted to cry.

It’s summer and you’re visiting your uncle’s manor. Nothing has changed from what you can see. The gardens are beautiful as ever, with your favourite flowers in full bloom. You’re greeted by familiar servants and staff, welcoming you back into your home as they take your belongings to your room.

You walked through the halls towards your music room. Passing by the window, you see a familiar scene of young pages training to become knights, of wooden swords and childish laughter. How nostalgic you thought.

Lord Yhwach is away but promised to visit in the coming days. Your uncle wanted you to enjoy your stay in his home for the time being, taking a break from “the disgusting air of the city” as he described it. He didn’t like you living in the city, but you preferred it, playing recitals and teaching students music.

He also didn’t like that you remained unmarried. Neither did the rest of your family and your caretaker. Suitors would visit you from afar, and past visits back home would have a man waiting for your return, but you would dismiss each one.

Now you were reaching the “ineligible” age. An age where the annoying, nosy and rude ladies of upper society turned their noses at unmarried women. Sighing, you entered your music room. A song would distract you from those thoughts.

Your piano room was clean, albeit a bit stuffy. You opened the large windows by them to air out the room. The faint sound of children laughing can be heard, followed by the buzzing of cicadas, bringing a smile to your lips.

It’s summer and you deserve to enjoy yourself at your own pace.

You lift the cover of your piano to find clean and polished keys. You run your fingers gently across them, no sound being made. You settle yourself and decide on what piece to play. Your mind flashes to one of your first concerts in the city, where you received a standing ovation, and a large bouquet of your favourite flowers awaited your waiting room. There was no name attached to the bouquet, other than the note of “Congratulations.” Signed with your uncle’s crest. To this day you figured it was him. Recital after recital, you would find beautiful bouquets awaiting you with a note from your uncle.

Your fingers glided over the keys as you played the first piece from your first ever recital. The one where you had dragged Jugram to listen to that one winter’s day. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, letting your fingers play the song from memory. You mind wandered as you continued to play, thinking of Jugram.

In the coming days after the ball, to save face, you had congratulated him on his engagement. You were a witness to his coronation as Imperial Advisor to your uncle. You had attended his wedding to Bambietta. And then you ran to the city.

Your hands were moving on their own as you recalled all of it, as tears started to prick your eyes. As the piece was nearing its end, you felt your hands grow heavy and you stopped.

“That was an old piece you played.” Jugram’s voice startled you.

“Jugram! I didn’t notice you were here.” You exclaimed, jumping out of your seat. You bowed to him as he did to you. “Did you just come in?” You asked, wondering when he entered the room.

“The servants told me you had arrived. I knew I would find you here.” He said, his voice even and calm. His uniform was stark white, he looked even taller than before.

But his green eyes were soft today, unlike the time at the ball. This was the Jugram you wanted to remember.

“Please excuse my intrusion,” a maid servant announced, as she brought tea and snacks for you.

“Oh thank you, but could you bring these outside? I’d like to enjoy them with Advisor Haschwalth.” You smiled, as the three of you were led outside.

The two of you sat in the gazebo in silence, as the wind tickled your hair. The sun was slowly beginning its descent into the horizon.

“How have you been, Jugram? How is Bambietta?”

Jugram sipped on his water, as his eyes lingered to the flowers nearby. “She’s fine.” He murmured.

“And you?” You asked again.

“Fine.” He said, always a man with few words. The air was warm, but comforting, but you noticed him unbutton his jacket.

“I’m always surprised to see you wearing your uniform during this heat.” You laughed, to which Jugram gave a slight smile.

“The fabric is suitable for all seasons, but it’s quite warm today.” He mused, taking another sip of water.

Silence grew again, as the two of you stared out in the distance.

“I –”

“You –”

The two of you spoke at the same time. Jugram ushered you to go first.

“I’m sorry about the ball. I know it’s been so many years, but I’m sorry for how I acted. It wasn’t my place.” You apologized, looking at him. Jugram’s face was expressionless.

“Bambietta and I are separating for now.” He murmured, still staring at the garden. Was he… disappointed? Relieved? You couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jugram. That must have been difficult for you both to agree on.” You sighed.

Jugram gave you a sad smile. “She was upset with the bouquets I was having delivered.”

Your eyes widened in surprised, “isn’t that a bit hypocritical of her? But I’m surprised, you had someone else?”

Jugram gave a dry chuckle, “no, I never bedded them, but I suppose it was unfair to her that I would gift flowers to someone and visit the city every now and then.” Your heart panged again, sadness washing over you that Jugram’s affections laid with someone else... again.

“Are you going to be with this person once your separation is finalized?” You asked, unsure if you could handle his answer.

“I want to.” He said calmly, his face again, remained expressionless, “but that depends on her.” He mused, his lips forming to a wistful smile.

“Do you regret what happened?” You asked softly, trying to remain composed for whatever Jugram may say.

“I have no regrets.” He murmured, “I made my own choice to marry her, and it’s now my choice to separate from her and be with someone else.”

“But what about my uncle?” You asked, worried that Jugram may have been on the receiving end of your uncle’s ruthlessness.

“He signed off on it. I suppose whatever deal he had with the Basterbine family was fulfilled.” Jugram said, wistfully.

The silence between you two grew again as the sun began to set.

“Did you like the bouquets?” He asked, staring at you.

“The bouquets?” You asked in confusion. “Wait, that… that was from you?”

Jugram nodded. “I attended some of your recitals.” He said calmly, finishing his glass of water. “You are truly a gift from God.” He quietly said.

“I thought they were from Lord Yhwach all this time…” You said, your voice wavering. Your heart was beating so loudly. You began to feel felt faint.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? I—” You asked, trying to calm yourself.

Jugram remained silent, as he continued to stare into the gardens.

“If I didn’t see you play at least once in my life,” Jugram said, “I would die with that regret.” He whispered, looking at the distance with a longing in eyes. “And then one recital, became multiple.”

Jugram got up from his seat and stood in front of you, extending his hand. You gave him yours, to which he bowed and kissed the back of your hand. “Please allow me to escort you to dinner tonight, your highness.” Jugram asked.

The days are long, and the nights are warm. Your body aches and your pussy is sore, sticky remnants covering your thigh. You had consummated your marriage to Jugram.

Your nipples are sensitive from Jugram’s teeth marks. Your lips are puffy and swollen from the kisses he stole from you.

Although everything hurt, you ached for more of him.

His cheeks were slightly flushed for the evening’s earlier activities, but now he laid asleep next you, his broad chest moving to every hitch of breath he was taking. His face was relaxed, his lips weren’t frowning, his eyebrows weren’t crossed. He looked at peace. You gently placed your hand over his heart, your long fingers gently tapping to the song from your youth.

Yet like everything Jugram does, he surprises you as his hand interlocks with yours.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Jugo.” You whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. “I couldn’t help myself.” You murmured, kissing him again, “you just looked so content.”

Jugram cupped your face in his hand as the two of you laid side-by-side. “You must be sore from tonight.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You felt heat rise below and peered down below the blanket. Jugram’s cock was growing stiff. You bit your lip in anticipation, reaching your hand down below, but Jugram stopped you.

“Rest, my highness.” Jugram murmured, “I can wait.”

You pouted at him, “can I watch at least?” You politely asked, giving him an innocent look. Jugram looked at you, eyes wide at the question. Your hand reached down and gently grabbed his growing erection, sliding your hand up and down.

Jugram grunted at the feeling, and pulled your arm away from his cock, replacing it with his own. “What her majesty wants, her majesty will get.” He whispered into your ear, as you watched Jugram slide his hand over his stiff cock. Precum leaked from the tip as Jugram watched you. He pinched your nipple and stole another kiss from you.

You moaned into him, throwing your arms around his neck, but he pulled away, continuing to pump his cock.

Watching him left a familiar ache of your own, as your hand darted to your pussy, rubbing your clit gently watching Jugram masturbate on top of you. You slipped one of your fingers inside, whimpering as you thought of Jugram’s cock inside you instead.

Jugram’s movements grew more erratic, and his breath more laboured as he watched you play with yourself, moaning his name. He watched you insert a second finger inside you, arching your back at the feeling, another moan of his name escaping his lips.

It was too much for him, as Jugram closed his eyes and groaned your name, his cum thick on your stomach. You slipped your fingers out from your pussy, using them to scoop his cooling cum of your body and tasting it. “Delicious.” You teased, licking your fingers clean.

Jugram panted, but gave you a wry smile, “you will be the death of me, your majesty.”

THANKS FOR READING!! This was originally planned to be super angst heavy, but my brain went another way haha! Here are some notes for this fic:

The title of the song on AO3 is from Duran Duran's "The Chauffeur" (one of my top favourite songs of all time), but I was specifically listening to Sneaker Pimps' cover of it.

Hanon's Virtuoso Pianist, is actually a great tool to build your finger strength and helps with scales and technical studies for piano playing.

The Bach piece that reader plays with Jugram in the room is Bach's Fugue No. 16 in G Minor from Book 2 of The Well-Tempered Clavier.

For the reason I chose Bambietta is based off this goofy omake between her and Jugram lmao

I really enjoyed writing this fic, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!!

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Heyyyy…

hey im still figuring out what i wanna be called but for now u can call me Jamie if u want I’m genderfluid as fuck [they/she/he or whatever idegafatp]

some typa aroace spectrum probs grayace & demiromantic also omniromantic - in general I have nothing figured out

so a simp w like a slight preference for men ig but kinda ace most of the time but sometimes very not

neurospicy bitch

writing request status: OPEN FOR MICROFICS RN

I’m a rosekiller loverrr but also a multi shipper so u never know what ur gonna see ig [but probably Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Dorlene, Starchaser maybe some sunkiller if I’m in the mood etc] for the record just bc I don’t ship smth doesn’t mean I support hating it even as a joke [translation: prongsfoot is chill leave them be]

if u don’t like smth, just ignore it, if u send me hate I’ll reply w shitty jokes probs

my dream job is to be an actor [screen actor specifically]

Media I like:

Fav TV stuff: Challengers, Gravity Falls, Cruella, 10 things I hate about you, into the spiderverse

Fav author is @neil-gaiman also that man is my idol so I’ll probs reblog him a shit ton [do u think he’ll like…mind that I tagged him? Sorry if this bothered u Neil!!!] Music [uhhh changes all the time tbh but for rn]: The Neighbourhood, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray [Kid Krow phase rn], Chappell Roan, Renée Rapp, Green day, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA and Hozier

Spider-Man. Fucking love Spider-Man.

One thing to note about me tho: obvi I love recommendations but I find starting literally any new forms of media really fucking daunting for no reason [this is everything: songs, movies, books etc]

e.g. I fucking love spider verse but I still haven’t watched movie 2, same w latest season of young royals, same with even like ONE song alone I find it rlly hard and really scary

so if u give me recommendations and I don’t get back to u about them for ages it’s not bc I forgot or i was ignoring u but bc I find it scary so pls be patient :)

also same w please don’t like assume I’m knowledgeable about like any of the music artists I named earlier bc tbh I don’t rlly listen to artists I listen to songs [im still a fan of a lot of music artists ofc but the artists I listen to ≠ the artists I’m a fan of]

HI! welcome to my crazy blog, I love making friends im not at all scary I promise :D

Btw my inbox is ALWAYS open for spam, ship ramblings [even if it’s not smth I ship], info dropping about ur hyperfixations, venting, questions etc. [the only thing is no illegal ships bc it will be ignored] also sorry pre warning im shit with the inbox chains [‘send this to ten people who…’] so often I won’t answer those sorry, anything else I will make sure to answer but the chains I sometimes just forget about sorryyy

Barty Crouch Jr & James Potter kinnie

got a FAT crush on Evan Rosier [he’s the loml he just doesn’t know it yet] and also a crush on Dorcas Meadowes

I write sometimes:

I fell for you like glitter on stage - rosekiller band au, this was a microfic series on tumblr that I posted on ao3 for convenience [words: 4548] [this is my fav thing I’ve ever written lol]

we are all just prisoners here of our own device - Jegulus, a oneshot on ao3 based on the song ‘hotel California’ by the eagles. [Words: 6162]

Oh where do we begin? The rubble or our sins? - ON HIATUS. Roman Empire Jegulus au with side Rosekiller, Wolfstar and Pandalily on ao3 [words: 6141] [currently I don’t want to write Jegulus - the hyperfixation hath faded]

also I’m in a marauders RP as Barty and u shld follow it bc we’re all super cool and funny and amazing and awesome and yeah @bartythebabygorljr

tags you’ll see on my page:

me and my old black biro > writing tag

Im in love with that Rosier boy > [this is a new one] me having a massive crush on Evan Rosier

the most boring soap opera > my life tag

I have an online diary called @miseryoforpheus if ur fascinated by my charming and irresistible personality

[The song at the bottom of my intro post changes all the time depending on how I’m feeling]

THIS BLOG SUPPORTS PALESTINE

THIS BLOG STANDS WITH UKRAINE

THIS BLOG THINKS JK ROWLING HAS A NEGATIVE QUANTITY OF BRAINCELLS

[psychicpeanutkitty]

August 2024 Home Office

Functional and decorative objects

Desk - 3588 polygons | Chair - 4434 polygons | Book Holder - 8709 polygons | Mug - 4548 polygons | Table Lamp - 6288 polygons

Base game compatible

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[literateowl]

Seven Sentence Sunday + a fic anniversary

Posting this one to celebrate the 6 month anniversary of my 2x02 Carlos POV fic. Here are the first seven sentences exactly. You can read the rest at the link at the bottom.

Carlos returns to the precinct after safely bringing Lily home. The young woman thanked him repeatedly for rescuing her from the food truck full of scorpions and the lava encroaching. He hadn't had the time to react at the moment but the memory now makes him shudder and his skin crawl as he pulls into the parking lot. He sits in the quiet car for a moment listening only to his own breathing, taking a little bit of time for himself before he goes to see whatever chaos is undoubtedly happening inside for everyone on this nightmarish shift.

“Dispatch requesting additional engine and RA units to relieve station 126 at 4548 Green Street.”

The small amount of calm that Carlos managed to grab onto is gone as soon as he hears the station number over the radio.

No.

Thank you to @ironheartwriter @captain-gillian and @carlos-in-glasses for tagging me already today

💜 Open tag as usual and also for @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @thisbuildinghasfeelings @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @sugdenlovesdingle

Also thank you to every one who tags me when I don't have anything to post. I'm sorry if I forgot to tag you back today 💖

[s1llyk1tt3n]

Bilans z 28 grudnia

Zjedzone : 652

Spalone : ponad 250

Woda : 2l

Kroki: 4548

Wczorajszy dzień byl bardzo w porządku, spalilam wiecej niz zazwyczaj, bo zazwyczaj nie wychodze z domu XDD

Tanczylam troche (co bardziej wygladalo jakbym sie zwijała w konwulsjach :P) co napewno duzo musialo spalic , ale nie wliczylam tego za bardzo do bilansu.

Trzymajcie sie chudo ;33

[whywishesarehorses]

BLM Mustangs for Sale - Carson City Facility

These horses are part of the May 2024 auction. As this facility has over 400 horses listed in this auction, I have restricted the horses I am featuring. Sorry, folks!

1 YEAR OLD GRULLA FEMALE HORSE (9018) 14hh

1 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (8962) 14.2hh

1 YEAR OLD BAY FEMALE HORSE (8983) 14hh

1 YEAR OLD PALOMINO FEMALE HORSE (2179) 14hh

2 YEAR OLD GRULLA FEMALE HORSE (1926) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD GRULLA FEMALE HORSE (2517) 15hh

2 YEAR OLD DUN GELDING HORSE (1822) 13.3hh

2 YEAR OLD ROANSTRAWBERRY GELDING HORSE (2195) 14.3hh

3 YEAR OLD ROANBLUE FEMALE HORSE (4561) 15hh

1 YEAR OLD ROANRED FEMALE HORSE (9070) 13hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (4548) 14.3hh

1 YEAR OLD ROANBLUE FEMALE HORSE (9003) 12.2hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (4563) 15.2hh

3 YEAR OLD GRULLA FEMALE HORSE (2349) 14.3hh

1 YEAR OLD ROANRED FEMALE HORSE (2035) 12.2hh

1 YEAR OLD BAY FEMALE HORSE (2158) 14hh (curly!)

3 YEAR OLD ROANSTRAWBERRY FEMALE HORSE (2527) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD PINTO FEMALE HORSE (9117) 14.2hh

3 YEAR OLD GRULLA GELDING HORSE (1328) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (2243) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY FEMALE HORSE (3769) 16hh

2 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (1930) 14.1hh

1 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (2033) 13hh

1 YEAR OLD SORREL FEMALE HORSE (9037) 14hh

2 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (1669) 14hh (one teddy bear ear)

1 YEAR OLD GRULLA FEMALE HORSE (8944) 13hh

1 YEAR OLD PALOMINO FEMALE HORSE (8987) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN FEMALE HORSE (4537) 14.1hh

[is-there-a-rt-sequel-yet]

Day #4548

had a fun day, going outside for once despite the cold 🥹🥰

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Into the Snake's Den

----

Things going missing in a household of four wasn’t uncommon, really. It was normal enough to misplace a sock on laundry day, or get one of your shirts mixed up with someone else’s and never see it again, or misplace one piece of jewellery from a set. Losing things was not out of the ordinary, what was out of the ordinary was just how often it happened for this particular household.

Logan theorised they potentially had borrowers, and if that was the case Patton was content to let them stay, though Roman had always brought up the point that who - or what - ever the culprit was, it was stealing items much too large to be a borrower. Patton had offered the idea that perhaps it was a fairy, or a spirit who lived nearby, in which case the group was even more eager to drop the issue.

That was until something important went missing a few weeks later.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: None as far as I'm aware

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP

Word Count: 4548

Notes:

I wrote this entire thing in one setting with encouragement from some awesome folks in the big bang server - I love you guys, lol.

Honestly, naga!janus in a non-explicit fic is so underrated - I think there really needs to be more snakey cuddles when the opportunity is so perfect, lol.

----

“Hey Pat - have you seen my cloak?” Came Virgil’s voice, sounding loudly through the house.

“No, bud, I haven’t seen it!” Patton yelled back as he worked on dinner, “Have you checked with Roman? I know he likes to borrow it sometimes-?”

His voice got quieter as Virgil actually joined him in the kitchen.

“I’ve already asked him,” He said, “Thought you might’ve washed it or something without telling me.”

“Nope… laundry day is tomorrow.” Patton shrugged and Virgil groaned. 

“Not again… that was my favourite cloak…” He mumbled, rubbing his face as he practically collapsed into the comfortable sofa next to Logan, who was reading a book on spells. 

Things going missing in a household of four wasn’t uncommon, really. It was normal enough to misplace a sock on laundry day, or get one of your shirts mixed up with someone else’s and never see it again, or misplace one piece of jewellery from a set. Losing things was not out of the ordinary, what was out of the ordinary was just how often it happened for this particular household. 

For the most part, it was things that weren’t really missed. Small things that didn’t matter all that much - little trinkets, an inexpensive belonging, usually something replaceable but personal. Sometimes it was more valuable items, jewellery - stolen especially from Roman and Virgil, who wore it most often - Art supplies from Patton or magical ingredients from Logan. 

Less often, but still notably more often than would be considered normal, bigger things went missing. Items of clothing, blankets from their beds, even pillows, occasionally. Other belongings - occasionally personal things too - would go missing too and Patton would find that a portion of whatever he had cooked would go missing as if by magic when he turned his back enough that he had started simply making extra. This had all started about a year ago, too, which leant more to the idea that this was suspicious. 

Today, it seemed, Virgil’s cloak had been taken. Patton could only assure him that they would get him a new one next time they went to the market. Nothing that had been taken had ever been returned. 

Logan theorised they potentially had borrowers, and if that was the case Patton was content to let them stay, though Roman had always brought up the point that who - or what - ever the culprit was, it was stealing items much too large to be a borrower. Patton had offered the idea that perhaps it was a fairy, or a spirit who lived nearby, in which case the group was even more eager to drop the issue. 

That was until something important went missing a few weeks later.  

—-

“Something’s not right,” Virgil hissed as he shook Logan awake one night.  Logan immediately got up, striking a match to light the candle on his nightstand and looking at Virgil - who’s eyes looked black in the dark. 

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, something’s wrong, I feel it,” He whispered, following Logan as he stood. The others had learned early on in their relationship that Virgil’s intuition was incredibly good; when he said something wasn’t right, he was almost always correct.

Glancing around as Logan paused to think, Logan’s eyes settled on a charcoal drawing that Roman had done of the four of them he kept in a frame, “Have you checked on the others?”

“Yeah - they’re both sleeping,” That was protocol, when Virgil felt that something was off in this way - he’d check on them first. 

“Alright, that’s promising - come on, we’ll check the casting room first.” Logan said. It was most likely that if something was wrong, that would be where it originated. A stray potion, a spilled pot of some ingredient messing with the aura of the place - not to mention Logan’s casting orb. 

The casting orb was a simple yet fairly rare magic tool - it allowed witches, like Logan, and other magic users - to store certain spells, keeping them constantly in place. The one Logan owned was mostly used to protect their home from any malevolent forces, there was one to grant them luck and it cast a generally positive magical aura that made it easier for all of them to perform their respective magic. 

When the pair entered the room, Virgil gasped. 

The door that led out to Patton’s greenhouse was wide open and from its glass case, the orb was missing. 

“Great,” Virgil said sarcastically. 

“We have to get it back,” Logan said immediately, “Not only is it incredibly valuable and dangerous in the wrong hands, but it is essential to keeping the others safe.”

Virgil’s expression twisted into a frown, “How are we gonna do that? We don’t even know what took it.”

“I’ll - figure something out,” Logan said, already heading over to his bookshelf, “If you could wake up the others?”

—-

“What are we doing out here in the middle of nowhere at whatever time in the morning again?” Roman complained as he led them down a barely trodden forest path, cutting back branches with his shimmering sword - that also served as a torch to light their way. Virgil was wearing a spare cloak that Patton was also sheltering under, clinging to Virgil’s side as the shadows swirled around them. Logan held his softly glowing staff and read from a book as they walked. 

“Left here, Roman,” Logan said quickly, “Sharply - and we’re looking for the creature that has stolen my orb.”

“Couldn’t this have waited ‘tll the morning?” Roman asked, veering left and swinging his sword in front of him to cut back brambles and clear a makeshift path. 

Virgil huffed, “You know how important the orb is, Princey, don’t be stuck up about it.”

“I just need my beauty sleep- woah…” Roman’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, your highness,” Virgil says with an exaggerated eye roll, though he fell quiet as he came into line beside Roman. Patton squeaked and Virgil gently squeezed his shoulders.-  trying not to pay attention to how the spare cloak was so scratchy and wasn’t the right size. Logan sighed.

“The trail goes in there,” Logan said, which none of them wanted to hear. Roman audibly groaned, both Patton and Virgil tensed. 

“That’s a naga den, no doubt about it,” Roman said quietly, looking at the large, dark cave entrance that lay open wide before them. A warm draft came from inside. Virgil wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren't for the suspiciously bone shaped - sticks, they were definitely sticks, he just shouldn’t think about it too hard, and he should absolutely not mention that within Patton’s earshot, “How important didja say this orb was? Like - is it worth our lives?”

The book in Logan’s hands snapped closed and he placed it carefully into his bag, placing both hands onto his staff instead, “We will not die as long as we do not mess this up.”

“And how exactly do we do that, specs?” Virgil asked gruffly - because how the fuck were they supposed to deal with a naga? Sure they were all magic users, but they weren’t that powerful.

“Well… Nagas are possessive, dangerous creatures,” Logan says, “Though their main defences are their tails and fangs, so long as you avoid getting caught in its tail you should not get hurt, hopefully, it will be sleeping and we will be able to sneak in to get the orb.”

“Don’t they have the best sense of smell and hearing like… ever, though?” Virgil asked, still looking at the cave, “And other crazy magic?”

Patton shivered, “Would- would it already know we’re here?”

“Well- It hasn’t come out to fight us, so I presume not,” Logan says, trying to placate, “If we can keep our spells and attacks ranged, we should all be okay.”

A dramatic sigh came from Roman’s right, “If you’d said that when we were at the house I would have brought my bow.”

Virgil glared at him, “You can channel magic through your sword, idiot.”

“Yeah - but the arrows are better-”

“Stop-” Logan commanded, both of them fell silent, feeling suitably cowed, “Unless you want to wake it up?”

With a sheepish look, Roman looked at his feet, “Right, sorry L.”

“Patton, you have your potions?” Logan asks a moment of silence later. 

“Yep - they’re mostly healing, though, I also brought snacks.”

“Well - I suppose the healing will be useful just in case,” Logan sighed, “You and I will hang back, Virgil and Roman should go in first.”

“What- why?” Roman protests.

“Your spells need line of sight and aim, if we are ahead of you you will be heavily hindered, mine do not,” Logan said, Virgil raised an eyebrow and he sighed and continued, “You are also a heavy hitter, and your shadow teleportation ability will make it easier for you to dodge, especially in a shadowy cave, plus you can see better.”

Virgil sighs, but doesn’t say anything - that reasoning is pretty sound., he supposed. 

“Are we ready?”

—-

The cave was dark, but unlike Virgil had expected, it didn’t necessarily smell bad, nor was it super damp - though it was a little humid, he supposed a naga would enjoy that.  The tunnel into the cave was fairly long, enough to make Virgil more and more nervous as they slowly and near silently traversed it, their path only lit by Roman’s sword. Something on the ground caught his eye and made him stop, Patton almost walked into him and whispered a quick ‘are you alright’ to him as Virgil bent down to pick it up. 

“Ro,” he whispered, “Light?”

Roman moved his sword closer to the thing Virgil had picked up, a small purple gemstone on a hooked wire, “I swear that’s familiar,” Roman whispered. 

“It’s my earring,” Virgil says as they continue to look at it, “The one I lost like a month ago?”

“Does that mean…” Patton whispered, before Logan nudged them both and put a finger to his lips, before pointing ahead of them. 

“Oh..” Roman whispered. A short ways ahead of them seemed to be the entrance to a much larger chamber, from which warm light seemed to spill into the tunnel. The four of them exchanged glances. Virgil especially shivered looking at it, that didn’t look like a particularly shadowy cave to him. “hm- before we go in, just in case we don’t come out.”

Logan tried to protest against Roman’s volume before he was pulled into a gentle kiss.  When he pulled away, Logan had a fond look on his face. Meanwhile Roman turned to Virgil and then Patton and did the same thing. 

That felt far too much like a goodbye. 

“Roman-” Virgil whispered before Roman was striding towards the chamber entrance, Logan reaches to grab him and pull him back but misses the back of his shirt by an inch. Virgil glances back at the other two and hurries after him, not about to let Roman be a self-sacrificing idiot for their sake. 

—-

When Roman reached the entrance of the chamber, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting and stopped short, rather than rushing in as planned. 

A naga, of course, and that’s what he saw, but he’d expected an intimidating, hissing creature, with coils and coils of tail ready to strangle or crush them, hissing with fangs ready to paralyse them with venom, he’d expected something dark and uncomfortable, not…

“Is that my shirt?” He asked dumbly to noone, only for Virgil to punch him in the arm for speaking so loudly, he turned to pout at him briefly before looking back at the scene before him. 

There was a naga, sure, and he was a little intimidating just for that fact, but really… Roman couldn’t force himself to be scared when he tried. 

He did have a mass of scaly tail that Roman was certain was strong enough to crush his bones, but right now it was coiled up and half buried in blankets he recognised, blankets, sheets, clothes and pillows that had been periodically going missing from their house. The naga’s tail was covered in shimmering gold and black scales, the gold glittering in the gentle light that filtered into the cave via some kind of magic and the black was iridescent. His torso too was a golden tan, flecked with the same shimmering yellow scales as his tail almost like freckles and cascades of soft looking warm brown hair obscured half of his face. 

In the naga’s arms was another pillow, though this one was dressed in what Roman was certain was one of his shirts that had gone missing fairly recently, his forked tongue was half out in his sleep in a frankly adorable ‘blep’. Roman found he could fathom fighting this creature less and less with every little detail he noticed. 

“This is…” Virgil whispered next to him. 

“Everything we’ve lost,” Patton finished, nodding. 

“But why?” Logan asked quietly, ever curious. Roman nodded, unable to help agreeing with the question - why did the naga want their things? Was this weird? Maybe a little, Roman thought it was almost cute. 

Roman turned his gaze to Logan as he seemed to scan the room, before his eyes settled on something, “The orb,” he whispered, pointing, “It’s over there.”

Right, that’s what they were here for, Logan’s orb. Roman followed his gaze to a small pile of trinkets across the room - all Logan’s things. His gaze slid to the other piles  scattered around, there was one for each of them. 

“I’ll get it,” Roman said eventually, already going to step forward before Virgil put his hand on his arm. 

A twisted, anxious expression was on his face and Virgil looked like he would rather be doing anything else right now, but he still said, “No - let me - I’m quieter.”

“Maybe,” Roman says softly, “But you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to be killed either-”

“I can take care of myself, V, it’ll be okay,” 

Patton shushed them hurriedly and the four of them turned to look at the naga, who murmured something and hugged the pillow closer whilst his tongue flicked out against it to smell the air, though he seemed to still be asleep. Logan seemed to realise something.

“This room is full of our scents already,” Logan whispered, drawing the attention of the other three, “It might not even notice we’re here - but we should still hurry, just-  do rock paper scissors if you have to.”

Roman turned to Virgil with a grin and held out his fist, Virgil rolled his eyes like this was a stupid idea but joined him in the game anyway. Roman won. He barely resisted crying out in victory, but he did punch Virgil affectionately before he smiled at the others and began making his way slowly around the edge of the chamber. 

Halfway there, the naga stirred again, but simply nuzzled into the pillow with a yawn that showed off his massive fangs, the mass of tail shifted, but he still didn't wake up. Roman put even more effort into being quiet until he reached Logan’s pile, picking up the shimmering orb carefully with both hands. He made eye contact with Logan before throwing it across the room. He almost laughed at the panic in Logan’s eyes as he casted a levitation spell on the small ball and brought it slowly back to himself, placing it carefully into the bag. Logan glared at Roman, who shrugged and took a step to make his way back. Having been looking at Logan, though, and not his feet, Roman found himself accidentally stepping on something that cracked under his foot. Loudly.

A wave of panic washed over him as the naga’s pointed ears pricked and he woke, this time his eyes blink open slowly and his gaze immediately locked onto Roman - he can’t help but think what striking colours they are. One is a striking gold, just like his scales, the other is almost black, but shimmering with an iridescent rainbow. Roman thought he ought to be worried about how he was about to die as the naga tasted the air, but he was frozen on the spot. Barely a glance at his lovers showed that they were terrified as well. 

For a moment, he and the naga simply stared at each other and he mentally begged the others to run. In a blink, and that’s really how fast it was - Roman couldn’t have possibly reacted - the naga struck, coiling his tail around Roman and lifting him from his feet. Of course he struggled, but the naga was strong and he had dropped his sword when the tail had wrapped around him, there was nothing he could do as he was brought face to face with the - admittedly incredibly beautiful - creature. He wanted to look at the others, but he also didn’t know if the naga knew they were there - and if he didn’t then Roman didn’t want to draw attention to them. If he was going to die here, he would have to make sure they could get out. 

He had expected the naga to squeeze him to death, maybe sink those razor sharp fangs into Roman’s skin and kill him slowly. The naga drew closer and flicked his tongue to smell him, Roman squeezed his eyes shut in preparation but no pain came, instead he felt cool lips pressed to his forehead. It was then that he realised a few different things at once.

First, the naga didn’t want to kill him - he would have done so by now. Second, his scales were cool and smooth where they pressed up against Roman’s bare arms, his tail wasn’t squeezing too hard. Though Roman couldn’t really struggle or escape, he could breath easily, it felt more like an embrace. Third… the naga had just kissed him. Now he was being stared at with a look that seemed like hopeful awe. 

“You…” Roman whispered, not being able to come up with words to express what he wanted to say - which was rare for him. Why was this beautiful thing looking at him like he hung the stars?

One of his hands came up to cup Roman’s face and he found himself leaning into it purely on instinct. The naga’s hands were cool and half scaled and it felt nice against his warm skin - and Roman had never been one to shy away from touch. Roman was passed then from the naga’s tail to his arms, where he was cradled against his strong chest. Despite the fear he had felt mere minutes ago, Roman couldn’t help the way his brain was screaming ‘safe’. He curled into the embrace. 

“Mine,” the naga hissed in Roman’s ear, his voice smooth and warm like melted chocolate, the sound made his breath hitch, “Ssssmokey one, you are ssso warm.”

“Let him go!” Patton's voice comes from the entrance to the chamber. Both Roman and the naga turn heads to look at him. Logan seemed to be trying to get Patton to be quiet and Virgil looked to be mid-panic attack. Roman felt a little bad. The naga moved closer to them and Patton tensed the closer he got. 

“He isss not hurt,” the Naga said, voice gentle as he turned a little to show Roman to them. Roman gave them a little wave and it seemed to placate the three of them just a little, “The little human iss but mine - and sso are you, my gems.”

His tail quickly hoists Patton into the air as well, but leaves his arms free unlike he had with Roman. Patton squeaked, flailing a little until he too realised he wasn’t being killed. When the naga drew him closer, he reached for Roman’s hand, he quickly took it. 

“Put them down,” Logan said, voice monotonous but hiding a venom that Roman could recognise, “We are not yours to hoard.”

“You are mine to love, little witch,” The naga says, “My little humans,”

Patton and Roman both found themselves lowered into the centre of the admittedly amazingly comfortable nest. Roman immediately scrambled over to Patton, pulling him into a gentle hug as the naga turned his attention to Virgil and Logan. Although they had been freed from his hold directly, they were still separated from the others by coils of the Naga’s tail, so they simply sat and waited. 

A stretch of silence passed as the naga’s eyes tracked Virgil curiously - the normally vigilant light-wielder didn’t seem to notice, focused on searching for something in the mass of blankets instead. 

“What are you looking for, little one?” he asked, curling himself around Virgil and making him jump badly and look around to face him. Virgil seemed to freeze, but the naga remained as passive as ever. 

Another silent moment passed, “...my cloak,” Virgil admitted softly, “The big one you - you took a few weeks ago.”

Barely a moment passed before the naga slithered to a spot and dug through the blankets to pull out a mass of black fabric, decorated with purple embroidery which he brought back to Virgil - who stared at him in surprise and wonder. 

“I liked this one,” the naga said, placing it around Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil immediately let out a sigh of relief, practically melting into the fabric, “It'sss big.”

“Yes,” Virgil said quietly. The naga offers him a hand that he tentatively takes and Virgil is carefully lifted to stand on a coil of his tail, steadied by the naga’s hand as he’s brought to join Patton and Roman, who accepted him into their hug gently, earning a fond smile from the naga, who then turned his attention back to Logan, who was growing less and less steadfast in his resistance by the moment. 

“You haven’t usssed that on me yet,” the naga says almost conversationally, gesturing to Logan’s faintly glowing staff - which he was clutching like a lifeline, “What are you waiting for, little witch?”

“I-” Logan faltered, “You…”

The naga hummed, “Will you join uss, little witch?”

Logan frowned, pausing, “What is your name, naga?”

A smile spread across the naga’s face, “I am called Janus,” He answers, voice still gentle.

“I am Logan,” Logan says, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ssso polite,” Janus hisses, edging forwards toward him.

“You’ve been stealing from us for months.” Logan backs up a step and Janus pauses, “Why?”

This seemed to give Janus pause, since he actually stopped to take a second and think about his answer. Roman found he was curious as he grabbed a red fluffy blanket - one of his favourites that he had lost - from the top of the pile and wrapped it around his shoulders. For that he earned a pat on the shoulder from Virgil and a kiss to the cheek from Patton. 

“I wanted my humans near me,” Janus said eventually, “But you would not come, I had to make do.”

Roman couldn’t quite work out whether that was absolutely adorable or kind of sad.

“Is that why you took my orb?” Logan asked, taking off his bag and placing it carefully behind him. Proceeding to carefully put his staff down with it, “So we would come here?”

Janus looked away, an almost embarrassed expression overtaking his face. Roman couldn’t help but share a smile with his loves. Virgil smirked back and Roman just knew  from that look he was holding back from teasing the naga that technically had them hostage and vulnerable viciously. “Perhaps.”

“You could have simply approached us,” Logan said, his tone minutely softer. 

Janus raised an eyebrow and simply gestured to his tail, which took up the majority of the large cavern. 

“Right,” Logan said, frowning, “Yet you managed to sneak into our house to steal?”

“Nagas have magic too, little witch,” Janus hissed, finally approaching him properly, carefully and slowly wrapping his coils around him to lift him and place him in the nest with the others. Logan seemed curious, but Janus didn’t seem willing to elaborate as he placed Logan in their little circle. Patton immediately reached for him. 

Meticulously, Janus picked over the four of them, taking their weapons and adding them to a small pile as well as anything breakable or uncomfortable. Roman had difficulty giving up his sword’s sheath - even if the sword itself had been left on the floor of the cavern already, but Janus promised it would be safe in his hoard and lifted Roman gently so he could see where he placed it. The others were easier to disarm, especially Logan - who had already left his things at the door, so to speak. 

When he was done he coaxed the four of them to lie down with a gentle voice and soft, alluring words, promising them safety and comfort as he buried himself once more in the blankets, laying himself down so he wrapped the four of them in his coils and his human torso could lie amongst them, allowing himself to wrap his arms around Roman and for Virgil to share his cloak. Logan held Virgil carefully from behind and Patton found himself laid across all four of them, his head in Roman’s lap and his feet in Logans. 

“My little ones,” Janus whispered as the lights above them dimmed, a hand carding through Virgil’s hair where his head rested against Janus’ shoulder, his lips brushed Roman’s forehead and he reached to brush a hand over Logan and Patton’s faces in turn, “My lovely humans.”

Patton let out a content hum and squirmed a little to get comfortable, Roman heard Logan let out a happy sigh. 

“So warm, so sweet,” Janus hissed softly as he tugged Roman closer, burying his face in his shoulder. Roman had always run the warmest of the group. 

Patton fell asleep first, and then Roman next. Logan fell next, with a little gentle coaxing from the naga until it was just Virgil. 

—-

“You are still scared, little gem,” Janus said softly, brushing  the hair from Virgil’s face, “My little amethyst, what scares you?”

It takes a long time for Virgil to answer and in that time Virgil meets his eyes and Janus knows without him saying a word that it’s him Virgil is afraid of still. 

“How do I know you won’t turn on us while I sleep?” Virgil asked, even despite his fears his voice is still quiet so as not to wake the others, “How do I know they’re safe.”

“I will protect them,” Janus says softly, leaning forward and kissing Virgil’s forehead. Roman makes a soft sound and shifts in his sleep, one of his arms wraps around Janus’ waist and he sighs contently, “I love you all, my sweet ones, I will protect you, I promise.”

“How do I know that?” Virgil insisted, “How do I know you’re not lying.”

“Do you have a bad feeling about me, my amethyst?” Janus asked softly, cupping Virgil’s cheek with a hand. 

Virgil takes a long moment to consider, before he eventually shakes his head. His eyes are wide. 

“No,” he says softly, meeting Janus’ eyes again, “I think you’re good.”

“Then trust me, little human,” Janus hissed softly, the sound practically luring Virgil to relax. He takes a deep breath and… does. 

Virgil falls asleep with the others and Janus keeps his promise.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

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[sexylonestar]

Nylon # 4548

[est-ce]

4548

[padfootagain]

You and the King (I)

Chapter 1 : Many Meetings

Hi everyone! I’m very happy to come back for this sequel of The King and You! After so many adventures, the reader is finally in Narnia, reunited with Caspian, but I’m sure you’ve guessed that the couple still has many adventures to go through!

I hope you like this new series, tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Caspian x reader

Warnings: None, it’s just fluff! Gets a little heated at the end of the chapter, but nothing explicit.

Summary: Sequel to The King and You – After meeting Caspian in your own world, you decide to follow him to Narnia, your love for him to strong to keep your old life. But as you discover the magic of Narnia, you soon realise that this extraordinary world is as dangerous as it is magnificent. Will your love for Caspian be enough to fight your new enemies?

Word Count: 4548

“A minotaur?”

“Yes, minotaurs do exist here.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I am afraid not. They are very loyal, as you will notice. Although, I must warn you, they are quite stubborn. And a little ruthless sometimes. And terribly tempered…”

“Okay… minotaurs… got it… what else?”

“I… don’t know… they are normal to me…”

“Sirens?”

“We do have sirens here, yes.”

“God…”

Caspian merely laughed.

You were quite lost still. After this crazy adventure you had lived with him, you were more lost than ever, and yet incredibly at peace. Weird feeling, mixing opposites.

You had arrived in Narnia merely the day before. Caspian had kept you by his side all afternoon, all evening, all night. He didn’t want you to feel lost, or scared. Narnia was a new world to you, you needed his help to navigate through it. And he would guide you through it all. Just the way you did for him…

After all, when he stumbled into your apartment in New York, over a month ago, you helped him. You guided him through this strange world of yours, you helped him find his way back to Narnia. But then… you also fell in love with him. And he fell in love with you. So much so that now, there you were, in Narnia, with him. You had left New York, your life, your world behind to be with him. And you had no regrets. The way you felt every time your eyes landed on his tall frame… it was worth your sacrifices.

You were in your chambers now, getting changed, putting on a Narnian dress, and Caspian was patiently waiting for you to get ready. He had cleared his schedule for the day, to help ease you into his Narnian world. He had little time to do so though. Even if he longed to be with you, to help you… he was still King. He had meetings to attend, and crisis to solve… especially now.

Because this treaty he was to sign with Lord Cirvan was to be made all over again. The new trades were to be secured through Caspian’s marriage with Cirvan’s daughter, Emilia. But then, you had burst into the room right when Caspian was about to sign and… he couldn’t possibly marry anyone but you now. So, the negotiations had to start all over again, this time without the argument of a royal wedding. So much work to be done…

But that could wait. For this first day of yours in Narnia by his side, Caspian wanted to be here.

He leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms as he waited for you to change. He had ordered for some dresses to be brought to your chambers, and was waiting for you to try them on. You had refused any kind of assistance from the maids to get dressed, and Caspian had not insisted. He reckoned you had to get used to this part of his life. Lords, ladies, maids, soldiers, him being King… For now, you needed to learn a little bit more about Narnia.

He kept on talking to you though, while you got changed on the other side of the room, hidden behind a screen. He could see your arms peeking out every once in a while above the velvetyt screen, bringing a smile to his lips every time…

He still couldn’t believe it. You were here. With him. In Narnia… This was not a dream…

You cursed at the dress, struggling with the laces in the back, heaving a frustrated sigh.

This was overwhelming… all of this. Of course, you were far from stupid, and you expected to be overwhelmed, but then again… this felt unbearably real, sometimes. Things that were not supposed to exist… did exist, all of a sudden. Your entire reality had to be recalibrated. It was an awful lot to take in.

You were so grateful to Caspian for being here…

Speaking of Caspian, his head peered beyond the screen, an amused smile on his lips.

“May I help you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You turned to him, nodding, letting go of the fabric.

“Yes, please.”

You turned your back to him so he could tighten the dress properly. But you noticed the way his fingers lingered across your back, even when they didn’t need to. The gesture brought a grin to your lips.

“Enjoying yourself, back there?” you asked, teasing.

Caspian fiercely blushed, but he held your gaze nonetheless when you looked at him over your shoulder.

“I am, actually,” he answered, voice low and deep and tempting.

You chuckled just as he was done with your dress, wrapping his arms around you to bring you closer, dropping a kiss in your hair.

“You are beautiful, my love,” he whispered against you ear.

“You like the dress, then?”

“I do.”

You nodded.

“Do I look like a proper Narnian lady?”

Your tone was playful, but only for a part, and Caspian knew it. He knew you enough to notice. The way your voice started cheerful but shook, just a little, a wavering barely audible…

He tightened his hold on you in response, pressing your back against his chest and dropping a tender kiss on your neck.

“You are the most beautiful Narnian lady I have ever seen.”

You smiled, the gesture a little hesitant still.

“I’m worried.”

“I know.”

“I’m terrified, actually…”

“I know. I felt the same when I was lost in your world. But you are not lost here. I am here. With you.”

“What about tomorrow? And the day after that? I’m not naive, you’re a king! I get that you’re busy… I’m an artist, I could rearrange my schedule around your needs. But you can’t do that for me. Not every day, at least.”

You finally turned around, remaining into his arms but facing him now. You rested your palms over his shoulders, holding onto them as if looking for reassurance, for support…

He ran a hand through your hair, heaving a sigh.

“I cannot deny that you are right. I am King. I cannot spend all my time with you, even if I wish I could. But there is no need to worry. I will introduce you to a few people today, people who will help you when I cannot be here. They will take care of you, like Agatha took care of me when you were not around.”

You nodded, but fear was still there, in your gaze, and Caspian hated it. There was so much he could do though, to alleviate your worry…

“Everything will be fine. I will be here. I will take care of you. And I will ask the people I trust the most to help you as well. Besides, I will make an announcement today, an official one, stating to all in the Castle and beyond where you come from. And things are different here, in Narnia. Our Kings and Queens of old came from your world, my ancestors came from your world. Your people is considered with reverence here. They will understand. They will try to, at least. In your world, it was madness to believe that I could come from Narnia. Here, it is an honour to be in the presence of someone coming from the other side.”

You nodded, letting his words sink in, letting their soothing effect calm down your racing heart. Caspian was right. People here would understand…

“I’m just… really nervous and scared that your people will hate me or… I don’t know… you’re a king! I… I’m scared… I mean, I’m just me.”

But Caspian shook his head, an amused smile now on his lips.

“My darling, you are everything Narnia needs. I can assure you that.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Aslan made our paths cross. All this was meant to happen.”

“Do you really think that?”

“There is no other explanation. The passages between our worlds opening like this… no, these are no mere coincidences. Besides… I love you. I know. I simply know.”

You smiled, reaching up to kiss his lips, to feel their softness on your skin, the tender hold of his palm over your cheek as he closed his eyes and leaned further, deepening the kiss, putting in more fervour, more passion, more love too…

Caspian had to be right. Because, even if things were to turn ill in this foreign land, you had no way to go home now.

You were holding onto Caspian’s arm as if it were some sort of anchor, of lifeline. You forced a smile as he turned to you, black eyes filled with tenderness and comfort. You were standing right before the door of Caspian’s office, perfectly aware that some of the most important people in Caspian’s life were standing on the other side, waiting for you. To your anxiety concerning Narnia was added the fear that people Caspian loved would dislike you, would disapprove of you and him. You wanted his friends to like you, to accept you in their small circle filled with trust. Caspian had already told you about them all, in New York and this very morning also, but still, you were unbelievably nervous now.

“Everything will be fine,” he smiled, and there was so much warmth and love in his gesture that you couldn’t help but believe him.

And so, you nodded, your heart soothed, even if it were for a mere moment, and you let him push the doors open.

Inside the room, eight people were waiting for you. You forced a smile on your lips, although you were well aware that traces of your nervousness were still visible across your features.

You tried to remember what Caspian had told you about traditional Narnian greetings, but your nerves got the better of you, and your mind turned into some sort of blank goo from which you could retrieve no useful information at all. You merely followed Caspian inside instead, standing awkwardly by his side.

“Thank you all for coming,” Caspian welcomed his friends.

And you were almost expecting them to judge you right away, to push you away, to shout… or on the contrary, you could have expected for all of them to bow before their king. But their reaction took you aback, enough so for you to relax.

“Ha, it is good to see you outside of a cell, Lady Y/N!” Reepicheep cried, jumping on the back of a chair to see you better. “I assume your chambers are much more comfortable.”

“Indeed, they are. But then again, hard to do worse than a prison cell,” you tried to joke, and you were reassured by the amused smiles that appeared around the room.

By your side, Caspian chuckled.

“Well, I was arrested in your world… it is only fair that you get to live the same experiences in Narnia as I did in New York!” Caspian joked as well, smiles broadening all around you. “More seriously, Y/N has settled in her chambers, all is well.”

“We are leaving in only a week though,” a dwarf, you assumed was Trumpkin, added. “No need to settle down too much.”

He seemed quite grumpy, but there was something kind in his gaze that he tried to hide. You liked him already.

He was nudged by a badger, that you identified as Trufflehunter. They glared at each other, but no more words were said.

And it was strange. As you looked around, surrounded by animals, and a dwarf, and a minotaur, and humans… it hit a little bit harder that you were very far from home…

“Well, as you have all guessed, this is Y/N,” Caspian told his friends, and you couldn’t refrain a smile as pride and happiness oozed from his gaze and tone as he introduced you.

He then turned towards an old man, with a white beard and grey hair, round spectacles a little lopsided resting on his nose.

“This is Professor Cornelius,” Caspian said, introducing you to the teacher. “He was my professor when I was a boy, and has never failed to advise me ever since I’ve become King. He will teach you all that you need to know about Narnia.”

“It is a great pleasure and an honour to meet you, Lady Y/N,” Cornelius said, his deep voice like a rumble of boulders down a hill as he reached for your free hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for being willing to help me,” you gave him a warm smile.

“Oh, child, there is no need to thank me! It is but natural! Do not worry, I will teach you all you need to know!”

Caspian guided you to Trumpkin and Trufflehunter next, introducing the two friends.

“We will try to help you, my Lady, no matter what you might need,” Trufflehunter offered with a generous smile. “Do not hesitate to ask for our help! It would be an honour to serve you.”

Trumpkin didn’t add anything, but he gave a short nod in agreement, and you couldn’t refrain an amused smile at the sight.

“Of course, there is no need to introduce our dear Reepicheep,” Caspian smiled, pointing at the mouse, before his hand would move to the bald man standing by his side. “This is Drinian, one of my closest advisors. We have fought and sailed many times together. I’ve asked Drinian and Reepicheep to teach you the basis of sword fighting and archery. I hope you will never need skills such as these, but I will feel reassured knowing that you can defend yourself if need be.”

You nodded, feeling a little more confident now, as so far everything was going smoothly and you knew Reepicheep already. You tried to crack a joke.

“I’m afraid Caspian has entrusted you with the hardest mission yet: I was always terrible in any kind of sports. I almost broke one of his toes when we danced.”

All laughed in the room, Drinian and Trumpkin merely chuckling but you reckoned that their stern behaviours were harder to be broken. You realised that the woman standing nearby – you assumed it was Caspian’s old friend Dalia – was barely smiling. Still, you reckoned that your humour was working, and you visibly relaxed after that, feeling a little more like yourself.

“You did no such thing, my love,” Caspian shook his head at you, fondness in his eyes.

He turned to Dalia and introduced you as well.

“Dalia is my oldest friend,” he explained. “She will teach you everything you need to know about the court, the etiquette, and living in Cair Paravel.”

“I stand corrected, you have the hardest job here,” you joked, but your confidence wavered a little when all you received in exchange was a tight smile.

“I’ll make sure you learn our ways, my Lady,” she spoke in a rather cold tone, and Caspian frowned at the sound of her voice, that he was used to hear filled with warmth.

“Thank you for your help,” you offered her a smile that she barely returned, but you chose to ignore her reaction.

Caspian was still frowning a little though when he turned to the last man and the minotaur he had not introduced to you yet.

“This is Diego, and Ammos,” he said, introducing the tall man and then the minotaur. “They are here to ensure your safety. They will have to accompany you everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” you asked him, frowning, but Caspian nodded.

“I am afraid so. The political situation here is… quite tensed these days. And you know nothing about Narnia… I do not want to take the risk for you to get hurt.”

You nodded, smiling at the two soldiers. They were the only ones who bowed before you, and you guessed that they were not that close to Caspian, although he trusted them.

You were quite taken aback by the minotaur though. He was far taller than you, with broad shoulders and everything about him seemed… intimidating. You stood a little closer to Caspian without noticing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you told the two soldiers with a kind smile.

“My Lady, it is an honour to serve you. We will lay down our lives, if necessary, to protect you,” Diego said, the man looking up at you, brown eyes staring intensely at you.

You were rather taken aback by this statement, and shook your head, uncomfortable.

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” you answered.

But Caspian guided you away again to talk more with the rest of the group, planning your first days in Narnia. He would make your identity official tonight, but you had several days to spend in this fortress before heading towards Cair Paravel. It was decided that the most urgent for you was to learn about Narnian traditions, culture and etiquette, and Dalia and Cornelius were to spend a lot of time with you in the coming days. And if the old professor seemed excited and welcoming, for Dalia, it was another story entirely. As you walked out of the room with Caspian, aiming for your chamber again, you asked him if you had done anything wrong.

“Of course not, my love,” Caspian reassured you, dropping a kiss in your hair as no one else was in the corridor. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t… bow or anything.”

“These people are my friends, you do not need to bow before them. Actually, you will not bow before anyone here. After all, you are to be Queen.”

You heaved a sigh at that.

“Really? Am I?”

Caspian frowned, letting you open the door of your room. He walked in after you, closed the door behind him and turned the lock.

“What do you mean? Are you… having doubts? About us?” he asked in a worried tone.

“What? No, of course not, it’s just… It’s hard to wrap my head around… all of this.”

He nodded, walking closer to you, and he opened his arms for you as soon as you took a step towards him, knowing you would hug him tight, guessing your movements before you could even think them.

Indeed, you snuggled into his chest, holding him tightly against you, breathing him in. He smelled of firewood, of leather, of candlelight…

You heaved a sigh, relaxing into his embrace.

“We should discuss this, actually,” Caspian whispered into our hair.

“Discuss what?”

He cleared his throat, and when you looked up at him, you were a little apprehensive of what he was about to say.

“It is not uncommon to court for a few months,” Caspian went on, choosing his words carefully, wary to not scare you away. “But… intimacy is not the same here and in your world.”

“I know, you’ve told me before,” you nodded. “Does that mean that we can’t… be like this?”

“Not in public, no.”

“And now?”

But he laughed your worry away.

“How could you think me able to stand in a room with you, alone, for more than five minutes before kissing you?”

You grinned, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Then, I don’t care. As long as we have this, I don’t care.”

He tightened his hold on you a little, taking a deep breath.

“What I meant to say with all this was that… Marriage happens must faster here than in your world.”

He felt you tensing, and held his breath.

“Marriage?”

He nodded.

“Would… would you be ready for that?”

His words were cautious, his voice hesitant. But you chuckled, and when you looked up at him again, you were almost amused.

“No… I left my world behind just to say hi. I am absolutely not madly in love with you and ready to spend my life with you. That’s why I came. Actually, you wouldn’t know a few single men I could hook up with?”

“Hook up? What does that mean?”

“Spend the night with…”

He exploded with laughter, and so did you.

“You are unbelievable,” he chuckled, shaking his head fondly at you. “I am afraid I do not know any man available in the Castle, no.”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“I am setting up a new law. No man is allowed in the same room as you except for me from now on.”

You both laughed again. It was merrier, calmer again. It was easy when it was just the two of you.

“More seriously though,” you broke the comfortable silence that had begun to settle upon the room, “I am quite… worried… terrified, actually, about all of this. About Narnia, and living in a Castle, and doing something wrong, and being a queen… But it doesn’t mean that I’m doubting us, Caspian. I know how I feel. And I love you. I always will.”

You let him run a hand through your hair, fingers moving until his palm could cup your cheek, and he leaned down to kiss your lips. A slow, reassuring kiss to show you that he felt the same.

“Now, that being said,” you breathed against his mouth as you broke away just enough to speak. “I’m not saying I will marry you until I get a real proposal.”

Caspian chuckled.

“A real one?” he teased.

“What you just did was not a proposal at all.”

“I asked you if you would be ready to marry me...”

“You’re supposed to get down on one knee! And to make a beautiful declaration about your undying love for me… and then, maybe, I’ll consider it,” you joked. “Just a few advises for your next attempt.”

You were not expecting Caspian to grin at you the way he did though, or to break your embrace. You were expecting even less for him to hold your hands in his, and to get down on one knee.

Your eyes grew round as you realized what he was doing. You could feel tears appear at the corner of your eyes, ready to fall. You were breathless now.

“I was kidding about all this, you know?” you asked, but Caspian shook his head.

“You were right, still. You deserve a real proposal.”

“Now?”

“Why not? I am certain. I have never been more certain of anything in my life. You are the one. You are the woman I will love and cherish, until my last breath. I have no doubts in my mind. Why wait? I love you so much, why should I wait to be with you, then?”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your throat too tight now to speak.

There was emotion shaking Caspian’s voice as well, but no trace of hesitation or doubt or nervousness even. He was relaxed. Emotional, but calm. It wasn’t that surprising though, you felt perfectly certain as well.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you make me the happiest man in this world, the luckiest in all words combine? Will you make me the honour of loving me till the end? Will you marry me?”

You brushed a tear away, but another fell, and you were not fast enough to hide it. It was alright though. It was just Caspian. Your Caspian. You could cry before him, you could be vulnerable and strong with him…

It was just the man you loved, and who loved you above all things as well.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Caspian,” you answered in a whisper, pulling him up gently so you could crush your lips with his.

You were both grinning in the kiss, and he held you tight after that, keeping you against him, burying his face in your hair.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you knew he was crying.

Because yesterday, at the same hour of the late afternoon, he thought he would never see you again. He was certain to have lost you, he was ready to marry a woman he would never love and now… now you were in his arms, holding him tight. And the sun was so bright outside, and the wind so soft against the branches, and the fire in the hearth so warm. He was holding you tight, he was calling you his, he was yours… everything felt right. Everything was as it should be. When he looked at you again, brushing your happy tears away, he wore the brightest grin you had ever seen.

“I cannot wait to spend all my life with you,” he whispered, thumb grazing across your cheekbone, burning your skin in the wake of its feathery touch.

“I love you so much, Caspian,” you answered, your tone matching his. “I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

When he kissed you again, there was something more urgent in his gesture, more passionate in the way his lips moved against yours, hungrier in the way his tongue broke the barrier of your lips, more desperate in the way his hand travelled across your body…

You wore a mischievous smile when you pulled away, gasping for air and for your heart to slow down. But your best efforts were in vain, Caspian’s lips assaulting the tender skin of your neck, his hand caressing your hip…

“I thought that this kind of intimacy was only to happen after the wedding in Narnia,” you teased, but couldn’t refrain a moan when he gently bit on the skin covering your pulse.

“You are having a terrible influence on me, my darling,” he teased you back.

You let him bend down a little more, so he could slip his hands behind your thighs and carry you off the ground, walking towards your bed.

“Of course, it’s all my fault…” you rolled your eyes, but your smile was tender when you kissed his cheek and jaw.

It was his time to moan as you gently pulled on his hair.

He put you down on the bed, his gesture delicate despite the fire that burned in his eyes. Despite this wild passion in his gaze, he was still tender, still delicate, still loving…

“Whose fault could it be but yours?” he joked, his smile crooked in a cocky smirk. “It is hardly my fault if you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

You giggled at that, rolling your eyes, but your laughter died in your throat when he started kissing your neck again.

“Well… if I’m having such a bad influence on you… are you sure you want to sign up for life then, love?”

He laughed against your skin, the vibrations sending happy shivers all over your body.

He propped himself on his forearms to look at you, and you brushed a strand of hair behind his ear as it fell before his eyes. He leaned into your touch without even noticing.

“You will get me into so much trouble… I couldn’t be more certain. I couldn’t be happier either.”

You exchanged a tender smile, but his features turned amused again, mischievous even... or something even more dangerous, something burning with desire.

“Besides… after our night together… I would be lying if I pretended that I have not planned a long list of things I want to do to you… We’d better not lose too much time to try them out, don’t you think so, my love?”

*******

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @intothesoul @sergeantbuckybarnes @pat-sirius @rockintensse

[istheoncelerfandomstillalive]

Day #4548

The Once-ler fandom is still alive.