From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
"Your utter lack of experience made you charming in a way that I will never forget," Isla informs him with a smile that's trying to run away with itself. "And I do mean that as a compliment, just in case there was any confusion." What Ever had seen as clumsy, Isla had taken as honest and trusting - and given how responsive he'd been to the instructions she'd given him, yes, it had very much been a turn on as well, coincidentally.
Following his gaze around at all the mirrors - and reminded suddenly of a certain room that probably used to be quite nearby in the Grounds - whilst Isla can't say that she's ever given them more than a cursory glance when it comes to sex, she's suddenly quite keen to see Ever at every angle as well.
But there's more still, and she glances up at him beneath dark lashes as his hand skates across the curve of her ass, before her smile twists to become a touch devilish. "You ought to have said so sooner," she tells him, turning slowly in his arms so her ass might press back fully against him, teasing no shortage of friction against the front of his pants. "We could have been having the conversation like this the whole time," she adds, gazing back over her shoulder with a fanged smile.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
Laughing under his breath, the aviator presses his cheek rather adoringly against the side of Isla's head as if they were having nothing more than a sweet moment together. "Well, here's hoping I am able to supplement at least some of that charm with what I've learned." He murmurs softly.
Exhaling sharply, the smile on the aviator's lips begins to melt around the shape of a plea that he only just"We could have, yes." He admits, his hands now pressed against the front of her thighs as she finishes her revolution. "But it would have been a good deal more difficult for you to remove my tie." Ever points out reasonably. Trickleing his fingertips in place to encourage the material of Isla's gown to rise while sliding his other hand against her upper thigh through the slit in her dress, Everest presses a too-soft kiss against the top of one shoulder as his fingers dance salaciously inward.
"I've also learned that I have a tendency to start out quite slow." He whispers, bunching up the fabric of her dress only enough to grant his hand unfettered access without pulling at the material. "Which I've heard can be quite frustrating. Strange though, given how much I like to do as I'm told—" With a single finger, he stroked it between her legs, across the barrier of her underwear with a touch that a butterfly likely could have shaken off. "—in this I can be a bit stubborn."
06-02-2024, 08:17 PM (This post was last modified: 06-02-2024, 08:23 PM by Isla.)
Isla
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
"I have high hopes given our conversations so far," Isla assures him - from their dance at the ball all the way up to now, Ever has managed to toe the line between perfect gentleman and sexual savant, however recently learned the latter might be. Indeed, as she successfully presses back against him, his response is such that the heat in her belly kindles readily to a low blaze.
Shivering against the trickle of his fingers against her upper thigh - and then the warm hand that presses in through the slit in her dress, Isla lets her head loll to the side to welcome his lips. "Mm, I don't know - I feel as though I might have been able to take it off. The buttons, though - those will be my downfall now."
Or so she thinks - but as the aviator continues and a single finger slips against her, almost too softly to count, it's with a stuttering inhale that she arches further against him, though whether it's involuntary or if it's to punish his teasing with some of her own is anyone's guess. "If it's frustrating it's only because of how much you make them want you," she whispers, and them can very easily be substituted with me in this case.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
"I'm not particularly attached to the shirt." Everest murmurs suggestively. "All the more so after learning that purple might not be my colour." He adds with a dark laugh, more than content to see his buttons strewn about the room if it meant keeping Isla where she was.
Biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep his thoughts from descending too quickly into pure reactions as Isla arches against him, Ever takes a measured breath against the Remedy's neck though he doesn't pull away. His own arousal will be more than evident if it wasn't already, but still he manages to keep the touch of his hands feather-light as his fingertip makes another too-light and too-quick pass between Isla's legs.
"I have to say...thinking of everyone I have been with since I saw you last in Torchline..." He pauses, his hand flinching against her inner thigh for a moment as if it was considering simply tearing her garments aside despite his intentions. "I want you more, like this, fully clothed and still standing than I ever did with any of them." The heights of bliss he'd reached, the breathless nights, the aching limbs, the orgasms that had his vision growing blurry...gods, how it all paled in comparison to the feeling of holding Isla against him.
Forcing his hands off of her—perhaps in one of the mirrors Isla would notice just how much effort appeared on the aviator's face in response—Ever instead extended his hand toward her, wanting to draw her toward the chaise lounge next to the fire place.
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
Chuckling at that - and maybe if it weren't for their soft voices and gentle touches, Isla would be more inclined towards that sort of gesture - instead, the Remedy tuts him softly. "It isn't the shirt's fault it doesn't suit you," she chides, her smile audible, one hand reaching up to thread her fingers through his curls as if to anchor him there a little longer.
Her breath catches a second time to feel his hand slip between her thighs, her fingers tightening in his hair and her spaded tail curling about his leg, and it's difficult not to want to press herself back against the hard length of his cock again, even caged as it is behind clothing. Luckily enough (she supposes), Ever is much more composed than Isla - and has arguably had much more sex than she has in the past few weeks.
"I'm glad to hear you say so," she whispers, "because I haven't taken anyone into my bed since I saw you last in Torchline, and I think of you every time I touch myself."
It's with a great deal of reluctance that they separate, Isla in a slightly wrinkled dress and Ever with his shirt half unbuttoned, and she takes his hand gratefully to step over to the chaise lounge.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
The tug of her fingers in his hair has Everest smiling. He only had to be told once that such a gesture was a good thing rather than a bad one (as a dog, he associated any amount of tugging at his hair or fur as a sign he was doing something wrong), and the more it happened, the more he found he quite liked it. "I like when you do that." He whispers against her ear.
Her words have their intended affect, and honestly it's only because Everest has seen for himself the benefits that waiting has on an orgasm (though, there are exceptions), that he's able to shakily keep his composure. "Do you?" He wonders conversationally, though the flush of his cheeks and the way his blue eyes have darkened considerably contradict the level of composure he's aiming for. "And what is it you think?"
Gesturing for Isla to take a seat and to make herself comfortable, the aviator quickly retrieves her wine glass and sets it on the table just by her elbow. Holding her gaze Ever drops slowly to his knees before reaching to pull the heels from her feet.
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
Committing that snippet to memory as she's welcomed onto the chaise lounge, it's with pink cheeks that Isla smooths out her dress and accepts her wine with a murmur of thanks, as if they are still having the most ordinary of evenings. "Sometimes I think of you like this," she whispers as Ever kneels before her, the Remedy sipping at her wine and letting him slip the heels from her feet. "And I remember what it was like to have your head buried between my knees."
Wiggling her toes and setting the glass back down, Isla busies herself reaching up to unpin her hair so it might cascade more freely around her shoulders. "Other times, I'm the one kneeling," she continues, setting each pin down carefully next to her glass. "That one is particularly arousing, because of course I've never tasted you." Gently tousling her hair into a more casual style, the Remedy relaxes further onto the chaise lounge.
"I like to think about what it would be like to ride you, on top," she adds. "And the things you might do if I were tied down on the bed, or if we needed to be quiet."
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
Every syllable quickened the beat of Ever's heart, and had he not already been on his knees, he might have unintentionally found himself there anyway such was the effect of Isla's words. Unable not to imagine what it would be like to tangle his fingers into her hair as his cock disappeared into her mouth, or to see her silhouette taut above him as he held onto her hips for purchase, the aviator took an intentional moment to pause and fix the Remedy with a dark stare of arousal and shaky need.
Sliding his hands up the outside of her thighs in order to tug down her underwear (and stockings?) while ensuring her dress kept her entirely covered, the aviator nodded thoughtfully. "I have heard that fantasy is sometimes better than reality, so by all means, if you'd like to keep any of that to yourself, just let me know." He murmured, glancing up at her with a smile that aimed to be as polite as it was wicked.
"For example, I would hate to ruin things by telling you that if ever we found ourselves in a situation where we needed to be quiet, for instance, one of the supply closets during the grand re-re-opening of the Hanged Man, I would, unfortunately, have little time for the likes of this." Ever gestured towards the wine, Isla's shoes, the underwear he was currently tugging from around her ankles. "I'd have to take you as you were—your dress around your waist, my pants hardly pulled down—and gods but it would have to be quick." Apologetically, Ever raises his gaze. "I'd have to fuck you hard and fast." He said, almost as if he regretted the idea. Almost.
"Then again...were we at some sort of dinner perhaps with a table keeping our bodies from view, if my hand found my way between your thighs, then I think perhaps then I'd be a good deal slower." With a thoughtful smile, he shrugged, before slowly lifting Isla's gown that his head might disappear beneath it. "Again, let me know if those are the sorts of things you'd rather not hear."
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
Shifting just enough that she doesn't hinder the way Ever's hands glide up her thighs to remove her underwear (and yes, stockings, it's Deepfrost), Isla raises her eyebrows back at him. "In my experience, fantasy is a poor substitute for reality when it's all you've been thinking about," she fires back, lifting her bare feet from the ground so he might not have to struggle.
But as it happens, she isn't the only one who has been doing some fantasising, and it's with flushed cheeks and softly parted lips that Isla listens to the aviator, able to imagine all too easily the interor of The Hanged Man, his hands swarming her body, one perhaps pressed over her mouth to stifle her cries from alerting the other patrons. She almost doesn't hear the second scenario, her mind's eye evidently not done with this one, and for a moment Isla recalls the other things Ever has said, and if the sudden image of him fucking another man isn't also a turn on, she doesn't know what is.
Her thighs open once more to welcome him between them, head tipping back to catch sight of their reflections on the ceiling, and it's with a sharp intake of breath that the Remedy finds herself smiling. "You certainly have been learning a lot," she whispers. Everest, of course, will find her wet and waiting, and that was the case long before they got to the chaise lounge.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
Ever's biggest takeaway from the women who had taught him this particular skill, was rhythm. With Isla's instructions from their previous tryst all but committed to heart, the aviator wasted little time getting to work, more than keen to properly show Isla just how good of a student he'd been.
Dipping his tongue into her, Ever heard the muffled sound of his own moan reach his ears before he was consciously aware that he was the one making it. He might have paused then, to tell Isla how tantalizing the taste of her was, had he not been schooled against doing anything which would interrupt the movement of his tongue once he'd begun his efforts. (During one lesson, Ever paused to ask too many questions and was nearly flayed for it).
Instead, he allowed one of his hands to greedily clutch at the Remedy's hip, before slowly pressing a single finger inside of her and sliding it back and forth with the rhythm of his tongue.
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
Wanting to twine her fingers through the back of his hair or wrap her legs around his shoulders, Isla is left tragically clothed and unable to do much more than bear out the pleasure Everest drags from her. Moaning some cluster of syllables that might have been an attempt at his name (coincidentally in time with the vibration of his own mouth against her), the Remedy clutches at the chaise lounge and gasps a sharp intake of breath as he uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue.
"Fuck--" she stutters out, back arched against the cushions as if to give more of herself to Ever if she can. Still, for as much as she knows he's capable of pleasuring her like this for as long as it takes, they aren't at a dinner party, and she knows they're capable of much more than his head beneath her dress.
"Wait, wait - come here," she hisses, and if he'll allow, the Remedy will guide him back and up to her waiting mouth, wanting to kiss the taste of herself from his lips. "I want your cock inside me when I cum," she demands, softly but insistently.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
Pulling her as close to his mouth as he could reasonably permit and still be able to move, Everest tried to ration his sips of hot air as he felt Isla's breathing quicken. Ready to commit himself in earnest to the final lap so to speak, the Remedy did what few had thus far in Ever's limited experience, which was to tell him to stop.
Appearing between her knees, Ever's eyes were nearly black with desire, his curls a mess and his shirt all the more skewed for the few buttons that Isla had managed to undo. With a slow nod of understanding that had a flicker of a smile parting his lips, he pushed himself off of his knees to partially blanket the Remedy's body with his own. Where he might otherwise have tried for kisses which were slow and gentle, with his lungs still yearning for air and with the taste of Isla buzzing on his lips, the aviator's mouth will feel comparably insatiable to how it had been before.
"I've never wanted anyone the way I want you." He whispered feverishly against her lips, and though he didn't expect the same to be true for her, but gods he needed her to know. Pulling his hand up from where it had clutched her thigh and pressing it behind the small of her back, the aviator reached for the zipped he was sure he'd find buried somewhere beneath the fabric of Isla's gown.
to share the space with simple living things, infinitely suffering
It might not be true for Isla - not here, not yet, but not outside the realms of possibility - but gods no one has never made her feel so wanted, either. Panting against Ever's lips and not wanting to part from him even if she's regrettably short of breath, her hands move to guide his own to the clasp of her dress, and whilst he frees her from it she returns her fingers to the task of opening his shirt.
Finally able to push the fabric down over his shoulders to bare his chest, the Remedy gently grips his jaw to direct him up for another kiss against her waiting lips. "You are so hot right now," she whispers, only after her lungs have started to burn for air. "I want to feel you all over me - your hands, your mouth, your body. Pin me down and fuck me, but I want to see your face." Whether he uses traditional positioning to make it happen or if he wants to get creative with the mirrors - that's entirely up to Ever.
fighting off like all creation, the absence of itself
your eyes across a crowded room, just like it's only me and you
The trouble is that Everest does want to get creative. He's done nothing but learn and practice and prepare precisely so that when he had this chance again with Isla, he might wow her to the levels of satisfaction that he absolutely thought she deserved. Having thought he'd improved his stamina such that he'd not disappoint her with just a few thrusts as he did the previous time, nothing could have prepared the aviator for the ways in which being around the Remedy had affected him. The flush of her cheeks had all but shredded his willpower, just as the sound of his name on her lips had given him the most absurd tunnel vision, and the feel of her body against his had rendered his mind all but blank, save for pebble blue eyes. He wanted her, and gods but he couldn't think of anything else.
The mirrors, the tie he thought to use, the entire trunk of sex toys (a few of which he very much liked); all forgotten.
Meeting her gaze, Everest does his best to look apologetic, but he's helpless against the desire which has built up the proceeding few weeks. "Gods, Isla." He pants harshly, as if the way he desperately needed her was somehow her fault. Pushing himself back from the chaise in order to roughly tug his shirt off, he let himself fall forward again against her lips while trying to free her from her dress.
