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!
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Alright," Danta says softly, mollified by the reassurance (far too much so, but he's not cognizant of that right now), "...although, sometimes I enjoy you being standoffish, you know. I'll let you know if I'd rather be dryly insulted on a day - how about that?" With a crooked smile that feels easier by the second, something settles in the Maverick's bones that makes shuffling forward a lot more simple than it would have been even minutes before.
"I don't believe you," he teases, of the other man not biting, and he's already stripping out of his waistcoat and shirt and kicking off his shoes, before crawling beneath the blankets and into the radiating warmth. "How's your shoulder?" he asks, though even as he speaks he's trying to gently bully Asta into a position where he might comfortably melt against him.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
As the tension bleeds away in the heat, Asta manages to break through his frustration previously and rumble a little laugh that’s half muffled by his pillow. “Shall we have a code word?” He asks, though the air is replaced with amusement over the prospect. He’ll commit if Danta picks the word.
He does manage a sharp toothed grin that either says Danta’s right or not right as the Maverick strips down and crawls under the blankets, and despite the gentleness of the question, Asta grunts slightly as he’s maneuvered around in a position best benefitting the Maverick’s comfort. “It hurts.” He says like it either does matter or doesn’t, depends on how deep into it Danta looks. “How’s yours?” Matching wounds. He wonders if they’ll scar.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"A code word?" Danta scoffs, the words muffled by the way he continually seems to be buried in the blankets. Eventually he manages (swearing softly because of the injury he's sustained) to worm his arms around Astaroth, hooking a leg over his his for good measure too. Some would call Danta the big spoon on this occasion, but for the Maverick the taller Ancient may as well be a stuffed toy he's grabbed onto.
"Lemongrass?" he ventures. "Or rockslide. Oh, or maybe tartan." All suggestions are mumbled into the soft space beneath Asta's jaw now, so sue him.
As for his own shoulder, he grumbles an agreement. "It hurts. Bit less now, though." Which is strange, given the relative acrobatics he's just performed to get comfortable in the bed.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
There’s more non flattering sounds that escape the Ancient as Danta gets comfortable, and only when he feels Danta stop moving does he exhale a small sigh of relief. One that breaks into a bark of a sound. “Tartan?!” Which, to be honest does sound like a word he would use, but it still seems odd and out of place. Perhaps that’s the point, to make him standoffish?
It sounds good to him the more he thinks about it though.
His chin lifts as Danta forces his way in and his arms slip up to wrap around his arms that seem to be gripping him like a toy, sighing in annoyance. “Surprising given how much you’ve just moved around. Are you done now?” He asks, squeezing Danta’s arm lightly, the one he thinks isn’t the wounded one.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Tartan," Danta drawls, his smile forming around the word. "Tartan it is," he confirms, as if Asta's mild disgust of it is precisely what has made it so perfect for their uses. "It can hardly be something you might use in normal conversation, can it?" He shrugs - gently, and with his good arm, before his eyes slip shut and he relaxes into the bed, already leeching all the heat he can.
"Mm, I think so," he decides, of being done, and the fact that he doesn't flinch at the other man's touch should say everything as to whether the chosen arm is injured or not. "You forgot to blow out the candles, though." It's no matter, he supposes; reaching out with his magic, Danta manipulates the flames down low and slow, before extinguishing them entirely and leaving only the fireplace burning.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
“Not to sound dramatic, but I’d rather be stone than wear tartan.” He sighs, and Danta might feel the way his nose scrunches in his distaste for the pattern. As it stands though, the Maverick has settled, and Astaroth does his best to try and settle in return. The fact that he doesn’t flinch when he squeezes is a good sign, too, and Asta latches onto that arm in particular.
His horn snag on the pillow as he tries to get comfortable shortly after, but he seems to pay it no mind as Danta chides him for the candles. “Unfortunately I haven’t gotten my fire magic back.” He grumbles, but notices the room get darker and it helps him settle, and it helps soothe that pit of loneliness in his gut.
“Thank you.” He says, the sound genuine as his spaded tail moves to wrap around Danta’s leg, keeping him close as he tries to settle in to sleep again, only finding it difficult with the thoughts still racing through his mind.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Noted," Danta murmurs, even having the audacity to sound amused about it. "Shame, though - I think you might look quite good in it." He doesn't even know if he's joking, the Maverick smirking against the other man's neck and keeping whatever images are in his head blessedly to himself.
"Mm, don't worry about it. Took a bit for mine to kick back in, too," he mumbles of the fire magic - and perhaps he'll forgive Asta his lack of preparedness given that he can't control the flames in his room.
For Danta's part, he's well on his way to a nap when the other man's voice rumbles through the air again, and he blinks his eyes open. "My pleasure," he mutters, shifting enough to nose into Asta's dark hair, and if Ancients could only purr, Danta would be filling the room with it right now.
Still, he seems to realise the other man isn't as bonelessly relaxed as he is, his brow furrowing. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
“I suppose we’ll never know.” Asta says a bit wistfully, sighing as he tries to get comfortable and yet still doesn’t quite get there. A noncommittal hum is offered of the magic, though, admittedly he can’t wait for it to return. He just isn’t sure how to get there (lots and lots of PQs right now, Asta).
Danta is excruciatingly comfortable and Asta finds himself wishing he could melt the same. It’s comfortable — for more than what he’d expected for the night, but it’s still not quite enough (and he wonders when he started to feel so selfish as to enjoy the warmth others have to offer him).
The question takes him by surprise and Danta would feel Asta’s jaw tighten and work a little as he takes a slow inhale, chest rising beneath the blonde’s arms. “I don’t know what a relationship truly looks like. So I am sorry if I overstepped.” It’s his turn to apologize, spreading some truth into the mix, despite how clipped it sounds.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
Now, Danta doesn't quite agree with that, and perhaps he's already mentally figuring out which tailors he can approach that would know Astaroth's measurements, before things get markedly less amusing. Blinking softly into the dark, his grip loosens enough against the other man that he can shift and move if he likes, without Danta actually creating any real distance between them. "It wasn't your fault," he says, perhaps too quickly, and ends up smiling ruefully into the other man's dark locks.
"Stuff like this is easy. Sex is easy, flirting is easy. I've just never had..." Shaking his head, he tries again. "I've never trusted anyone enough with friendship, let alone anything more. So even small things seem like a lot." A night of tough admissions on both their parts, it seems.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Danta would have no trouble at all finding a tailor in the Last Whisper that would know Asta’s measurements, but it certainly isn’t something he’ll say aloud. In fact, he’s already intending to go there tomorrow to try and fix his scorched collar. But that conversation drifts away in favor for the one that’s quite literally keeping him up tonight.
As Danta speaks, Asta’s head tucks into the pillow a bit more, blinking out into the dark, illuminated by only the fire in the fireplace, he gives plenty of room for Danta to bury his face into his long dark tresses. “None of it is easy for me.” He admits surprisingly easily, even if it feels like tearing out every honest opinion he’s ever had. He was solitary. He stayed on his own. There was no disappointment if you only had yourself to blame.
Also no accidental devouring when the bloodlust hit.
“It makes sense for you to be the way that you are.” Given what he’d grown up experiencing. He gets it. “For me… Flirting is easier than everything else, only until it reaches a point of being expected to put out. And half the time, I simply don’t want to.” Not for worrying about devouring the other, half the time Asta doesn’t care. But in order to actually reach that point, he has to be in the precisely right mood.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
"Oh?" Danta raises an eyebrow at that, resisting the pull of sleep and blinking himself awake enough that he might shift in the bed to listen properly, his arms adjusting around Asta so he's less clinging about it. "Oh, fuck. I didn't..." Know, realise. Any number of words might suffice, but instead the Maverick merely shakes his head and gently noses against the back of the other man's neck.
"I'm glad I stopped sending people to your door at night," he mumbles, before letting out a long, soft sigh. "There's nothing wrong with not wanting to though. You know that, right?" Just as Danta is about as open as they come with regard to his sexcapades, he's been around enough to know that the spectrum of desire is a broad one, with extremes at each end.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
He feels Danta move again and Asta remains exactly as he is, focused away into the dark, watching the long shadows dance from where the bed posts blot out the dancing waves of the fire in the fireplace. “It’s okay, Danta, darling. Really.” He starts to say, because he’d never been up front about it. He wasn’t close enough to anyone to have the conversation in the first place, let alone know where to start. So he’d kept it close to his chest, and now for Danta to hear…
Well, it makes something within him seem to click into place. “Yes, I know that.” He starts to say, getting that air of regality back into his tone rather than the clipped quiet of his awkwardness. “Yet it also feels strange sometimes.” Like he should be wanting to be more open and more fluid and dive into bedsheets that weren’t his. But alas, more often than not the thought made him wince.
Shifting slightly so that he rolls onto his back a bit and into Danta a bit harder, he tilts his head toward the Maverick, scanning his face in the low light. “So perhaps if the mood strikes, there can be another code word?” It feels like an awkward joke as it falls from his lips, paired with the crookedness of a small smirk.
you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
Danta's protest is locked and loaded behind his teeth, but he manages to swallow it back in lieu of gently resting his chin against Asta's shoulder to hear the other man out. It doesn't feel okay, at least not until his fellow Ancient speaks again, his tone becoming that familiar wry drawl that the Maverick is so used to. "Mm... well, if it ever feels strange, just remember that the people who visit the Dusklight have much weirder fetishes," he fires back with a shrug.
Shifting to allow Asta to move and get more comfortable, Danta blinks through the twilight and offers the other man a slow, amused smirk for his trouble. "A code word like I want to fuck you?" he suggests, raising his eyebrows; they hardly need to be subtle about that one, he things. "If you insist I suppose we can say that if I hear you use my full name, I'll take it as a sign you're feeling DTFy."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
Astaroth knows that Danta is right when it comes to the patrons having weirder fetishes, a thought that sinks in and has Asta wrinkling his nose and groaning a little as he sighs. “What solace.” He drawls a little and melts back into the blankets and the Maverick as he makes his suggestion.
“Yes.” He says a touch softer and raises his brow. The ‘code word’ is a relatively easy one though and Asta, coming through his drunkenness nods and reaches up a little to tug the Maverick back down onto him, chasing some of the heat. “Mm, alright. I think I can manage that.” Sometimes it was fun to just pull it out to see the wrinkle in the blonde’s nose, but he can figure out just when to pull it out of the vault when he wishes to indulge.
