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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!
It feels like far too long since they've had this - not sex, necessarily, given how prolific the Taliesins are in their bedroom antics - but the time and space to enjoy each other without feeling as if the world is waiting for them to get back to work. "I'll find one to model, just for you. So long as you don't mind some creative licence," he whispers, grinning another kiss against the side of the Bastion's neck before straightening enough to welcome the teasing graze of teeth against his skin.
Already fighting a rapidly losing battle at being the one in control here, Ronin surprises himself with a breathless laugh in response to Remi's demand, curling an arm around his neck to let his fingers plunge into the back of his unruly curls, head tipping back as if to welcome bruising kisses and wandering hands. A sudden flare of something close to joy floods through his side of the bond and in every place they touch; singed by the flush of lust, of course, it's nonetheless a light and buoyant feeling, as unexpected as it is welcome.
Remi feels the surge of Ronin’s joy like sunlight spilling through cracks, catching him off guard, stealing his breath as thoroughly as the heated press of his husband’s body against his own. The laughter that bubbles from Ronin’s lips, breathless and bright, has Remi’s heart clenching sharply with want and love in equal measure.
He takes his time answering, if only because he can; for once, there’s no urgency beyond the way their bodies arch and slide together beneath the hot spring’s surface. Remi tilts his head forward, lips grazing lightly down the length of Ronin’s exposed throat, tasting the salty warmth of his skin, pressing slow, deliberate kisses that linger like he’s branding each spot. "Creative license granted," he whispers roughly, his voice a heated rumble against Ronin’s pulse, tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive hollow just below his husband’s jaw. Remi’s hands drift lower beneath the water, tracing the familiar, strong contours of Ronin’s hips, fingertips digging just enough to leave a mark.
He tightens his hold, pulling Ronin flush against him as if they might fuse together, skin against heated skin, breath mingling in the humid air between them. "I still remember what it was like, the first time you kissed me in your guild," Remi admits, pausing long enough to sip in a breath. "You had the nerve to tell me that we both knew it was bound to happen despite it having only existed in my wildest fantasies."
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Despite the lack of urgency, Remi's body brings Ronin's to life beneath every stroke of fingers and brush of lips, the warm heat of him something searing even in the steam of the springs. "Well thank goodness for that," he says, the words formed around a smile even as his eyes slip shut to better enjoy the dance of Remi's mouth across his throat. The gods know that his version of creative can very well cause as many problems as solutions, but, well, the Bastion knows what he married.
Macrame mankini here we come.
Ronin's fingers tighten in the other man's hair to feel the fingertip bruises he knows will blossom in the wake of Remi's touch along his hips, his breath huffing out in an impatient exhale as they are drawn tantalisingly flush with one another, simultaneously too close for polite company and yet nowhere near as close as he'd like to be. "If I remember correctly," he whispers through a wicked grin, "that first kiss was entirely inappropriate since only one of us was available at the time. And I still couldn't help myself."
Remi huffs a laugh against Ronin’s mouth, teeth flashing in a grin that’s far too wolfish to be innocent. The brush of the Knight’s breath, the slow, delicious heat between them, it all coils beneath Remi’s skin like a second heartbeat. He lets his fingers drift slowly across Ronin's thighs, each movement more suggestive than the last, hands possessive in the way only time and hard-won love allow. "Mm, and it was entirely inappropriate," he murmurs, teeth grazing over the place where Ronin’s jaw meets his throat.
Remi pauses just long enough to draw back and look at his husband properly, the steam curling around them like a curtain, like they’re the only two people left in the world. His sea-glass eyes are bright with the memory (that thankfully was never stolen from him) and with an affection that’s only been sharpened by time. "I didn’t breathe, you know," he says, quieter now. "When you kissed me. You had me so flustered I forgot how." His grin returns, cocky and crooked. "You’ve only gotten worse since then."
One hand slides up to thread into Ronin’s hair again, and Remi uses it to pull him back down, lips crashing into the Knight’s with far less gentleness this time.
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Luckily for Remi, Ronin thoroughly enjoys his husband's not-so-innocent expressions, though his smile falls into slack-jawed appreciation with every suggestive press of the other man's wandering hands. "I don't take it back, inappropriate as it was," he whispers, his head tilted to the side for Remi's teeth to stake a gentle claim against his throat. "If we were back there I'd make exactly the same choice. I'm only annoyed I didn't do it sooner."
Left with cheeks flushed pink and the hand not threaded through Remi's hair playing across his lower back as if trying to decide whether to simply rip the swim shorts from his body, Ronin meets his husband's gaze with a boyish smile. "Breathing is overrated. I'd much rather be kissing you," he just about manages to say, before Remi is surging forward to do just that.
A low moan rumbles up in Ronin's throat, the Knight suddenly feeling far too overdressed for what he'd like to be doing, and his hand slips beneath the waistband of Remi's shorts at his back so he can cop a feel of his ass. Even that isn't nearly enough, though, and if there are any other voices echoing nearby through the steam, he's long stopped hearing them.
Remi groans softly into the kiss, the sound more growl than anything else as Ronin’s hand slips beneath his waistband, sending a shiver down his spine that has nothing to do with the water’s warmth. His own hands slide boldly up his husband’s thighs now, settling at his hips before tugging him forward with no pretense of subtlety.
"You're ridiculous," he murmurs against his mouth, voice low and rough with want, "-and you’re mine." The words are half a growl, half a promise, his fingers tightening where they’ve slipped low around the curve of Ronin’s ass, mirroring the Knight's own hands on his body.
The kiss deepens again, a touch sloppier this time if only because of its hunger, as if weeks of grief and fear have boiled down into this single moment where Remi is allowed to want again—openly and greedily. His hips shift forward, pressing deliberately against Ronin beneath the water and gods if it doesn't make their first kitchen fumble all those years ago seem laughable.
"You keep touching me like that and this is going to get indecent very quickly," he murmurs against Ronin’s lips.
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"You keep sounding like that and I'm going to make sure it does," Ronin whispers back, his voice tight with barely constrained need for the man in his arms, a need echoed very evidently in the way their bodies press flush against one another. He kisses Remi like he's the first drop of water after finally reaching an oasis, like he's the break of day after the longest night, and gods he's as wild for him now as he was all those years ago. (And it isn't as though being remotely in public has ever stopped them before, is it?)
Rolling his hips teasingly against the other man as they finally part again, it's with a soft and breathless gasp that Ronin considers what they might do next. "We could fuck right here," he purrs, his eyes dark with arousal and glimmering with mischief. "Or I bet there are plenty of little alcoves in between the stone where you could get me on my knees. If you don't make a decision in the next five seconds, though, I'm going to. And everyone here is probably going to know what we're up to."
Remi hums against Ronin’s lips, the sound dark and indulgent. Every nerve feels painfully awake, raw and humming beneath his skin, his muscles already tightening with anticipation as the slow ache of want sinks into his thighs and his abdomen. His hand doesn’t stay on Ronin’s ass for long, instead it drifts with renewed purpose, fingers sliding against his husband's swim shorts until his palm presses around the hard outline of Ronin’s cock. "Fuck," he breathes, the word more reverence than profanity, spoken like a confession as his fingers close and press with slow, deliberate pressure, just enough to coax a shudder, to test the restraint in Ronin’s spine before he’s pulling away again.
Grinning against Ronin’s jaw, he whispers, "I had forgotten how much I liked hearing you give orders." The Bastion’s thumb brushes over his husband’s caged cock once more, a final teasing flick that has his own breath stuttering in his chest, before his hand retreats entirely. His own body is already betraying him—hard beneath the water, pulse thudding at his throat, his skin slick with sweat and spring heat and Ronin’s hands.
"Let’s get out of the water," he murmurs, voice gravel-edged and low as he leans in to bite gently at the shell of Ronin’s ear. "I want the only friction between us to be caused by you and whatever wall I'm braced up against."
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Ronin's lips part but it's Remi's curse that paints the air, the Knight's fingers flinching in his husband's curls as his aching cock receives far too little attention for his liking, and yet far too much to expect him to keep his senses. Hissing out a sigh, his head tilts back as if to search for one last thread of self-control, not that Remi makes the task any easier. He can hear the sly mischief in his voice, in the heat of his words, and with a groan of dwindling restraint, Ronin just about manages to pull away enough to glance over the Bastion's shoulder.
"Alright," he whispers, and now there's a smile in his voice too. "But you'll have to come and find me first." And with that, the Knight promptly vanishes.
It's true that pulling a bait and switch with his projection is one of his tried and tested moves, and he doesn't relish doing it to Remi, but at least it gives him a few seconds to gather himself. Still, he won't have gone far, and Remi will know exactly which direction to follow; from within a fissure between two hot slabs of stone, a pair of pink flamingo shorts is unceremoniously tossed out as a clue.
Remi lets out a low, frustrated sound as Ronin vanishes from his grasp, water sloshing against the stone as he straightens up and runs a hand through his curls. "Marriages have ended for less than this," he mutters, his voice loud enough to carry—because if his husband was going to flee mid-foreplay, the least he could do was be publicly shamed for it.
Dragging himself out of the pool, Remi pauses just long enough to cast a lingering glance down his own body. He adjusts himself with a hiss through his teeth, glancing toward the path ahead like a man fully aware of how much trouble he’s about to get into—and how eager he is for it.
The pink flamingo shorts fluttering onto the stone are a dead giveaway, and Remi grins darkly as he pads toward them. "You’re lucky I love you," he calls out, heat simmering beneath the words. Down the bond he sends a wave of sensation—heat curling through his chest, low hunger twisting in his belly, an unmistakable flare of want that pulses bright and unfiltered.
Slipping into the narrow opening between rock, shadows and steam, Remi finds him: his husband, infuriating and perfect. He doesn’t speak at first, letting silence stretch as he takes in the long lines of Ronin's body, the way the light slicks across muscle and scar alike. Shedding his swimming shorts, Remi reaches down to touch himself, slow and purposeful, just enough to drag pleasure up through his spine and settle it behind his eyes like a storm waiting to break; and for Ronin to feel through their bond just what it was he'd endeavoured to leave behind.
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
The fissure is narrow, it's true, heat rolling off the rock on all sides, but there's plenty of space for some acrobatics between two very determined demigods. And with the echo of the springs muffled here, Ronin can hear his own pulse in his ears and every breath that leaves his lips, the Knight waiting expectantly as his husband's shadow falls over him, blocking the light. "I am lucky you love me," he agrees, the words little more than a low murmur framed by his lopsided smile, though the expression twists towards exquisite frustration at the sudden emotional assault through their bond.
Remi is a feast for the eyes and then some, his pleasure enough to make Ronin impatient and more reckless than he already is, but it's on slow and careful feet that he closes the distance between them. "Let me," he rumbles, reaching out to cup the other man's cheek and draw him into a surprisingly soft kiss, reaching out with his free hand to take over the slow and teasing strokes against Remi's cock, even as his own presses between them, begging to be touched.
Remi shudders under Ronin’s touch, the quiet control of it—soft kiss, slow stroke—enough to draw a low, guttural sound from his throat that has him sipping in a hasty breath. "Ronin," he breathes against his lips, hips already twitching into the rhythm Ronin sets. Remi lets his head fall back just slightly, exposing his throat, his curls damp and clinging to his forehead.
"Gods, I want you," Remi murmurs, voice hoarse and threaded with need. "I want to feel you—" The words catch in his throat, chased by another hiss as Ronin’s hand curls tighter, just enough to make his knees threaten to buckle. His fingers dig lightly into the Knight’s shoulders, torn between staying still to savour it and shoving Ronin against the stone and begging him to fuck him properly.
His breath shakes as he exhales, pressing his forehead against Ronin’s. "If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to cum before you’re even inside me," he growls, half a warning and half a plea. His hips buck again, seeking more—more pressure, more friction, more of Ronin, now. "So either do it like you mean it," he pants, dragging his mouth along Ronin’s jaw, "or fuck me."
"Mm, I warned you about teasing me like that," Ronin mumbles against Remi's lips with a wicked smile, his kiss dropping against the other man's exposed throat as if to feel the guttural rumble of his dwindling willpower for himself. Not that there's any doubt in how this was going to end at this point, the Knight's fingers pulsing and squeezing around the other man's cock, his hand stroking faster just for a few tantalising moments before dropping to something slower, almost patient.
He both does and doesn't expect the last of Remi's restraint to crumble so quickly, and such is his husband's magic that every desperate curl of pleasure, every mounting flare of ecstasy richochets into Ronin in turn, and he drags in a sudden and shuddering breath and tilts his hips forward. "Fuck," he whispers, the word almost a kiss against Remi's lips. "Turn around."
Not bothering to wait for him to comply, calloused hands are already turning the Bastion to press him against the hot stone. Wasting no further time, Ronin enters him brutishly, his fingers digging into his hips, his mouth hot against the side of his neck to cage the rough moan that tears out of him. "Gods, you're perfect every fucking time," he hisses between snatches of breath, pulling Remi back against him with each hard snap of his hips.
The hiss of steam, the press of heat from the stone, the sudden fullness of Ronin inside him—all of it crashes over Remi at once, blinding in its intensity. His hands brace against the hot wall, fingers splaying wide for purchase as his hips jerk forward instinctively, only to be pulled back again by the bruising grip at his waist. The first thrust forces a sound from his throat that isn’t entirely human—guttural, ragged, a desperate mix of pleasure and relief that has him already seeing stars.
"Fuck—Ronin—" The name stutters from his lips, reverent and raw. Each snap of Ronin’s hips steals the air from his lungs and leaves him reeling, his body already beginning to tremble in response to the pressure building up at the base of his spine.
"You always—ah—" he gasps, a hand lifting to press against the stone for balance, the other curling blindly around Ronin’s wrist at his hip. "Gods you always know just what I want." The heat between them builds fast and dangerous, made worse—or better—by the bond humming wild and unrestrained between their minds and flowing everywhere they touch. Every stroke inside him echoes with mirrored want, every pulse of Ronin's pleasure coiling through his own spine like a live wire. Remi's cock is aching, but he doesn't dare move to touch himself, not least of all because his grip against the side of the cavern is more than just a little necessary given the Knight's pace, but also because of how quickly he knows he'll finish given how long its been since the pair have had the luxury of being together like this.
did it bend or did I break?
Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
