Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
Character of the Season
Frail in body but dangerously quick of mind, Nikandr is the sort of character who proves that curiosity can be just as perilous as any weapon. A necromancer, inventor, and problem-solver with more ambition than self-preservation, Niki approaches the world like a puzzle box begging to be opened, even when what’s inside has teeth. Blunt, dry-witted, fiercely independent, and carrying a history best left partially buried, he has a knack for making even failure feel fascinating. Whether he’s raising the dead, moving across Caido to King's End, or experiencing a hangover for the first time, Nikandr brings a wonderfully strange spark to Caido, and we can’t wait to see what trouble his brilliant mind wanders into next.
Congratulations, Niki!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
With a light press against his shoulders the captain will find Flora suddenly in his arms, her legs tangled around his waist and her body pressed firmly against his. Though Jack isn't the most physically assuming of men, if he so much as grunts in response to bearing the Doubletake's weight, he can be sure his run with immortality will come to a swift end. "I don't need luck." Flora whispers against his lips.
Now, understandably Flora has something a lot more vanilla in mind when she said she'd been planning on fucking Jack. The thing of it is, for all her imagination and big talk, she's only ever had her brother's romance novels to go off of, given her sexcapades were limited to the captain, the dragoon, and the butcher. That's all just to say that if you want something up your ass, Jack, you're going to have to plant that particular seed yourself.
Reluctantly pulling her lips from Jack's, and only because even with his telepathy she assumes he'll need to be able to see where they're going in order to get them back to his cabin, she flourishes kisses down the side of his neck, punctuating each with a mental bloom of lust . Slowly the petals of these thoughts carpet her mind, drowning everything in a sea of sweet-smelling red.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Thankfully, given that Jack had been the one to invite Flora into his arms like this, the good captain is more than prepared to hold her weight without a whisper of complaint, busy following the well-worn steps across the deck towards his cabin. "I believe it," he mumbles - of all the people in the world in need of a good dose of luck, he doesn't count Flora among them.
And alas, whilst the nature of their relationship has changed such that the Doubletake will undoubtedly be introduced to a plethora of new positions and kinks given enough time, vanilla it is for now - or as vanilla as Flora's imagination might be, in any case.
Tilting his head to welcome her lips against the side of his neck, Jack probably could navigate to his cabin with his eyes closed, but the option to see where he's going is nonetheless appreciated, and soon enough he's setting her down if for no other reason than to fight with the doorknob and twist it to let them inside. And whilst she had been clear about her desires - that she will be the one fucking him tonight - it doesn't stop him from leaning in to catch her lips in one more kiss, guiding her into the room to allow him to kick the door shut behind him.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
Effervescent with the newness of being in love, Flora glowed in Jack's arms as he whisked her away toward his cabin. her thoughts were laden with golden and threaded with molten red, the tapestry of her thoughts tangling scarlett with every wandering press of his fingertips. Moaning something playfully annoyed against his lips, as the queen's feet touched the deck she made sure that the captain felt every inch of her against his chest and hips as she reluctantly let him go.
As Jack fumbled with the doorknob, Flora fumbled with his pants, first unhooking his belt and then working at his buttons. Mmmmm, I want you. Almost apologetically thought given how long it had been since he'd last found his way between her thighs, as his mouth met hers once more the Doubletake rose onto her toes, fingers tangling possessively in his dark hair.
"On the bed." Flora instructed, and despite whatever vanilla nonsense she had in mind, her voice was wonderfully confident. Slinking towards his desk where she knew she could find scissors, the queen began to cut several long strips out of her sundress until it barely covered the tops of her thighs, before turning toward him. "I'm sure it doesn't take a mindreader to know what I'm going to do with these, but.." Well, she was fairly certain he wouldn't see what she had planned, not if she focused her thoughts just right.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Flora has absolutely nothing to feel apologetic about in Jack's opinion, especially as she slides herself down the length of his body (and against his already aching cock) to get her feet back beneath her. "Really? I couldn't tell," he murmurs wickedly into her mouth, his smile audible even as his tongue writes promises he doubts Flora will let him keep, but he can write them nonetheless. Having backed into his cabin properly, he's got just enough time to fumble with the lock on his door before Flora is directing him to the bed, and he raises his eyebrows to make a point before acquiescing.
Sinking down onto the sheets and watching with a tilt of his head as she plays arts and crafts with her sundress, his pants unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled, one might think Jack would get impatient and go to assist. Truth be told, though, the molten gold and vibrant crimson in her thoughts is more than enough to keep him occupied, the captain letting it flood through him, seeping into the cracked parts of him and filling them with heat and light.
"I'll do my best to act surprised," he tells her, leaning back on his hands and waiting expectantly for her to take the lead.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
With her chin still lowered, Flora glances at Jack through the curtain of her bangs before flashing him a wolfish grin that, had he spent any time in the mirror, he'd recognize as one of his own. "We'll see." She hums, before placing the scissors back in the drawer and moving to his side.
With a press of her hands against his shoulders to encourage him back against the bed, Flora easily slips herself astride the captain. With her dress newly cut and her underwear stuffed back in her guild, there's precious little blocking her from his view save for the way she leans forward, against him. Tying his hands to either side of the bed using the fabric of her dress—there's enough slack for him to be able to roll his shoulders, but not enough to touch her—Flora flashes him a smile as she descends the length of his body, tugging his pants down with her as she goes. "I could take these all the way off, but actually.." Biting at the inside of her cheek the queen raises a brow, leaving Jack's pants and underwear in a tangle around his ankles—it'd make it that much harder for him to wriggle around—before securing both of his legs at the bottom of the bed.
Knowing that this was likely far from the first time that Jack had been tied up, Flora didn't bother making it seem as though she'd accomplished much by doing it, and instead placed herself astride him once more, her hips resting against his thighs. With his cock like a mast rising up against her belly, Flora let her fingertips ghost down the length of her body before reaching for his erection. She would have him begging to cum by the end of things, but for now, Flora would settle for hearing him say he wanted her.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
They would see, evidently. Feeling Flora's mischief and arousal as a silvery thread slicing through the molten crimson of her thoughts, Jack contents himself with watching the Doubletake as she pushes him back into the bed, the way her dress barely skims across her thighs, the press of her nipples through the thin fabric of it as she settles herself astride him. "Bold of you to assume I'm goin' anywhere," he remarks, glancing up at the knots she uses to tie him to his bedposts, leaving the captain able to do little more than peer up at her through blue eyes made dark with arousal.
Arching his back and hips to assist with the removal of the rest of his clothes - he finds it helpful to be polite to the person tying you down, in his experience - and with his shirt discarded somewhere in his journey across the room, soon enough (if one doesn't count the pants shoved around his ankles) the captain is left wearing only his scars and the ink of his tattoos. Hissing in a soft breath to find Flora so tantalisingly again him, he raises an eyebrow up at her, cock twitching between her thighs.
"It feels a little superfluous to say it," he teases - his erection is a very clear indicator of what he wants, after all - but this is Flora, and so Jack reconsiders. "I want you," he whispers, almost under his breath. "All of you. Right now."
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
09-19-2024, 11:28 AM (This post was last modified: 09-21-2024, 02:40 AM by Flora.)
flora
"Superfluous?" Lifting her eyebrows at that, delight sparkles across the Doubletake's thoughts momentarily, illuminating the garnet edges of her thoughts and making them shine pink. Jack was one of those men who was a good deal more clever than he ever let on, and so when his mask did slip—like when his laughter turned briefly carefree—it had something a good deal more intimate than mere lust uncoiling in Flora's belly.
Feeling both wildly pleased by the captain's whispered tone and marking it as a baseline, Flora waists little time in rising onto her knees and sinking down upon the captain's cock. Whatever she planned to do apparently didn't involve drawing out the main event, not if the self-satisfied smirk that parted her lips was anything to go by as she rolled her hips forward and back, finding just the right angle and sighing indulgently.
Able to set the pace—opting for slow and sensual—Flora lets her fingers ghost across her hips before skirting in toward her waist, her nails gliding softly over her bronze skin until she has herself shivering in response to the goosebumps blooming in the wake of her hands. Reaching her breasts, the queen pauses, smirking down at Jack. She was at the age where all of her anatomy still defied gravity and yet her fingertips danced over the globes of her breasts as if for the first time, marvelling at the soft firmness of them before rolling her hips forward as she grabbed one of her nipples and squeezed. Moaning under her breath as if Jack was nothing more than a life-sized dildo for her to please herself with, the queen continued the slow undulations of her body, imagining what it might be like to once again have dozens of eyes upon her during the longest night of the year.
"Tell me I'm yours."
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Raising his eyebrows in response to that, if Jack's smile turns a touch more mischievous for a second or two, so be it. Perhaps future encounters will find him reciting dictionary definitions between her thighs if that was what pleased her - but for now, all of his focus is rightly on the Doubletake's position above him.
Apparently he's not quite focused enough, though, because the captain had absolutely been expecting Flora to tease and taunt and draw this out until his arousal began to give way to frustration. To feel her slick, tight heat suddenly encompass him is enough to drag a stuttered sound from his throat, his back arching automatically into the sensation and to the sparks of satisfaction that ripple across Flora's subconscious.
And as her hips roll against him, sensual in a way that borders on maddening, he watches through hungry eyes as her fingers roam across her body. Every ghostly touch, every phantom sensation that could and should be from his own hands pairs with the way she fucks him - slow, intimate, not enough and yet more than - and Jack feels it reflect back through his magic and through his body all at the same time.
"You're mine," he whispers, and this time it isn't said entirely for show - not if the sudden buck of his hips into her has anything to do with it.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
Heat shivered up through her core, coating the muscles of her stomach and thighs as they worked to roll her hips against him. You're mine echoes through her thoughts, parting her lips, her inhale shaky, the words hitting her with the same possessive force as they had the first time she'd heard him say them. "Again," Leaning forward to brace her palms against his chest, Flora lets her hips rise and fall, each thrust sending lightning-bright sparks up from her core where they caught on her teeth before slipping through her lips as stuttered moans.
Flora might have been the one in control, but gods if Jack wasn't going to be her undoing just the same. Biting at the inside of her cheek as the movement of the captain's hips struck a chord deep within, the queen gasps as the first flush of her climax begins to nip needily against her toes. Rather than riding him toward their inevitable end though, the queen forces herself up onto her knees, one hand now braced on the wall above Jack with the other slipping between her thighs to keep her orgasm close at hand.
Flora had said that she'd wanted Jack to beg, and while she knew he was more than capable of putting on a convincing performance, she also knew that the only way to make him mad with the sort of desire she was looking for, was to bring him along as she lost herself in the sorts of sensations that would be so close to enough, but not quite.
Positioned high enough above him that not even the arching of his back would do more than tease the head of his cock inside of her, Flora began to caress slow circles around her clit, beckoning the orgasm that the captain's cock had kindled to life into growing.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
"I said you're mine, Flora," Jack hisses, barely missing a beat and tipping his head back into the pillows as she leans forward, her hands pressed against his chest, her hips rolling against his own like waves on a stormy sea. The crackle of excess pleasure he manages to draw out of her only serves to spur him on, the captain following the siren song of her climax as it begins to beckon, only for the Doubletake to promptly withdraw the physical sensation, if not the rich tapestry of her thoughts.
Panting and gazing up at her, eyes dark with a mix of arousal and frustration, Jack's cock twitches against her and his jaw feathers as she continues to strum out the rhythm of her orgasm. It's good - it always is with Flora, her thoughts a hot press of desire and reckless passion, and gods, if she hadn't been riding him for the past few minutes that would be enough. But with her braced over him, her fingers continuing the work he had started, Jack finds himself gripping the makeshift shackles tying him to his bedsheets, knuckles white.
"Flora," he growls out - not begging, not yet, but he's wading right into those waters with the sound of her name on his tongue.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
A strangled whimper shivers from Flora's parted lips, and where last time the pair were in this bed the four-letter word that haunted the Doubletake's mind started with an l and ended with an e, now it was replaced by an m, an i, n, and an e that she made no attempts at all to keep hidden. The word tore through her, and though Flora could be headstrong and willful to say the least, gods but the possessiveness in Jack's voice had her knees beginning to shake, and her mind erupting into flames.
Pushing her lips together, Flora's hips scoop forward to press the head of the captain's cock against her clit, and it's her own wetness on him rather than the friction that has her moaning his name. Allowing her fingers to once again take the place of his cock, every circle has burgundy tongues of flame licking up the inside of her thighs. With her free hand, Flora claws her fingers against the taut muscles of her inner thigh as if to carve channels for the fire to burn down. Panting, her breasts aching and swelling her fingers find their way to one of her nipples, pinching it hard as her fingers begin to circle faster. If she had another hand it would be around her throat, another grasping her ass.
Instead, her mind already made up, Flora continues to please herself rather than releasing the captain, her fingers expertly manipulating the heat between her thighs into something that was nearly ready to be unleashed. "Oh fuck," She moans, her body trembling in such a way that has her muscles tightening and her spine arching. "nnn, Jack," Opening her eyes, she gazes down at him, lips parted as she hisses in a breath that she means to hold until her orgasm forces it out.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Needless to say that Jack has vastly underestimated Flora's abilities in this arena, and he's paying for it in all the best and worst ways now. Having never allowed himself to be close enough to anyone for the intensity of these sorts of feelings, let alone when they're coming from the Doubletake, he's left burning in the fires of her mind, her growing ecstasy enough to drive him to distraction. "Gods, Flora--" He hisses out her name with a helpless arch of his back, though it's nowhere near enough despite the kaleidoscopic canvas of her thoughts seizing him entirely.
"Fuck-- please," he grates out at last, the words barely more than a whisper even as he grips hold of the ties on his hands and pulls with enough force to have his bedposts creaking. And gods know the captain will never let her hear the end of it if she has him breaking his furnishings because she doesn't know when to stop teasing.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended
The words alone are nearly enough to send her over the brink, and it's lucky for them both that Flora is able to hang onto one last shred of sanity before her orgasm engulfs her completely. It's a near thing though as the tapestry of crimson and maroon is sliced clean through emitting blinding rays of gold and white.
With an inarticulate gasp, Flora shifts her hips before sinking down onto the captain's cock, the fullness of it stealing the breath from her lungs and causing the world to shift out from beneath her. "-fuck, Jack—!" Her third orgasm in so many hours tears through her and it's pure greed on her part that her hips roll against the captain's even as her mind expands into something without borders or edges or colour. There is only the bliss-bright feeling of pleasure and love that carries Flora away with it, even as her body trembles and shivers atop Jack's.
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I'm covered in you
Moaning sharply as Flora finally sinks down onto him, Jack's hips buck into her even as her orgasm snatches her away from sense and reality, carrying the captain along in her wake. It's overwhelming and then some, such that he's entirely unaware that his hands have gone numb with his efforts to escape, or that the skeleton crew out on the deck will be aware not just of how good a job he's doing, but of Flora's performance as well.
Jack cums hard, and if the pleasure and love written across Flora's mind make it all the better for him, he's in no position to admit it to anyone. Left breathless, weightless and utterly undone by the Doubletake, even as a fraction of sense begins to return, he barely knows what to do with it. Groaning and shifting just enough to be aware of pain in his wrists, he huffs out a breath that is almost a laugh. "Untie me? Fuck," he grates out.
romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic and recommended