From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
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!
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
Overwhelmed was generally a good way to describe Phoebe's perception of most of her sexual encounters. With Emmett, it had been new and uncharted territory, her mind and body having to reconcile it all at once. With Jata, it had been explosive, unexpected, a fast and hot burn that had left her dizzy. And as much as this was similar, it all came together in shocking clarity (because really, it was all imagined and created by her mind, enhanced by her beloved god). Loren's handsome features above her, the slight roughness in the way he held and touched her on the verge of possessive, and the overpowering pleasure she gave him - for the midwife yearned to please almost more than she wished to be pleased herself - stroked every nerve in her body and mind. It was truly perfection, experienced as she never had before.
The sudden shift in setting made her gasp, but she grinned as he moaned her name. Her name. Almost of their own accord her legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close as he worked his frenzied rhythm. But his physically impossible maneuver to reach down between them made her breath hitch, eyes squeezing shut and teeth scraping her lip as her head fell back. She had never experienced pleasure quite this keenly - Emmett having been too inexperience, Jata having been to quick to get them to meet their ends - her eyes opened to meet the warm blue of Loren's and for a moment she forgot it was not real. "Loren..." she half-moaned, half-panted, breathless and needy. Phoebe tilted her head forward to place a frenzied kiss on his lips, trailing hers up his jaw to his ear, teeth gently running over his earlobe. "Harder..." she pleaded in a breathy whisper. She wanted to feel his need and want for her - insatiable and without restraint.
With realism entirely out the window but not in a perceptible way, the Launceleyn was able to hungrily stretch forward and meet Phoebe's lips. Though she was still balanced against a table, now her back was also pressed against a wall such that Loren's other hand was free to tangle in her hand. His tongue silently punctuated unsaid words, moans leaving him and bleeding directly against her. As her teeth grazed against his ear he shivered, growling low and insistently as she made her demands.
What the honeybee wanted, the honeybee would get.
The hand in her hair tangled and pulled, forcing her head backwards with a domineering sort of strength and conviction. It might have even hurt, but Loren would be more than happy to kiss away any of the resulting tears. With kisses comprised of teeth more than lips, the Launceleyn nipped his way down to her collarbones, his fingers still pulling her head back if only to undescore that in the moment, she was his. His for the taking. His for the fucking. His, and his, and his.
Sliding the hand from her hair now to her lower back, his fingers pressed against the meatier bits of her hips, Loren began to fuck the midwife in unruly earnest now. Panting against her breasts, the table beneath them rocking and thudding to accompany the slaps of flesh, Loren indeed thrust harder, angling his hips so that there was no barrier to the angle of their bodies.
"Cum for me, Phoebe." He all but demanded, and for all the heat that simmered on his cheeks, there was a frosty possessiveness in his stare. Cum, or I'll fuck you until you do. In reality, the dildo would expand slightly and seem to thrust on its own so that the midwife's wrist would not be responsible for the speed or pressure she desired.
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
If realism had been the foremost concern on Phoebe's mind, this fantasy would have been a lackluster vision of her sitting alone on the couch in front of the fire reading a medical text while Pim snarled at people walking down the street through the window, not her being ravished by the cerulean eyed summoner that hardly knew or cared that she existed; so it was safe to say the lack of realistic quality wasn't exactly registering in the midwife's mind. Frey wanted her to fantasize so fantasize she would, the visions defying all logic as much as the positions defied the basic principles of physics.
She gasped as her head was suddenly pulled and held back by her hair, and while it did hurt, you didn't grow hair as thick and long as Phoebe's and not develop a high pain tolerance on one's scalp. Instead of being overly pained - because it did hurt a little bit - she was enthralled - so much so that as he thrust into her with such force she had not experienced before that a moan caught in her throat, nerves and synapses firing with such speed her mind momentarily forgot how to make her vocal chords function. She was too focused on the sudden building tension in her core to worry about that, ecstatically helpless under his possessive gaze.
It was his command as much as his insistent mistrations that sent her careening over the edge, fireworks and stars exploding behind her eyes as she cried out, gripping his shoulders as her orgasm overtook her. She jerked and bucked against him, trembling and gasping for air as she slowly floated down from a high she most certainly had never reached before.
Of course, no one could help a girl reach orgasm quiet Frey. No shock there.
Frey let Phoebe simper and simmer as long as she needed to, their hands softly intertwining in her hair as her body jerked with the last waves of her orgasm. When she finally did open her eyes, she find herself comfortably back in her dress with her head in Frey's lap as they gazed down at her with a smug and proud smile.
"My, my. I'd say you're a natural honeybee." They cooed knowingly, pushing a wayward strand of hair off of her forehead.
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
Her eyes remained closed as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers twitching only slightly more from the hints if blight left in her veins. But as the feeling of fabric draped over her registered in her brain, they slowly fluttered open, gazing up at Frey almost coyly through her lashes. A warm, loving sort of smile curved the lips at the sight of them. She might be just a human, a tiny blip on the cosmic radar of Frey's eternal existence that would be forgotten near soon as she went to Mort, she loved the deity all the same. Ever-present, ever-patient, one of the very few constants in her life.
In her post orgasm glow, the young midwife was very cuddly, turning slightly to wrap her arms around Frey, nuzzling her head into the hand that combed through her hair. "A natural? At what?" she asked in an almost sing-songy voice, melodic and fully relaxed. Orgasming? she wondered, though the thought made her giggle. Orgasming was natural so probably not.
"Masturbation, hun." Frey cooed softly. "Good for the body and the soul. So next time you get all wishy washy about some boy, you just find yourself an occupied room—or not—and just let yourself enjoy it and see if that doesn't bring you a bit of clarity." Once hormones and chemicals were out of the mix, in Frey's experience the humans' tended to think a good deal better about their situations.
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
Oh! Well, that made more sense. She blushed a little, but giggled. ”Well, thank you. It is an honor you think so.” she said with a light laugh. The god of sex and fertility and beauty thinking she was a natural at masturbating? That was a pretty high compliment she thought!
She listened to their advice though, closing her eyes as her head rested against their legs. Even with the afterglow still washing over her, she did seem to see things a bit more clearly. Loren was indeed handsome (though he needed to eat about 20 sandwiches and a whole pie) and he had been very kind to her when he didn’t need to be but…well whatever she felt was certainly not love. Attraction, certainly. A level of want but nothing overpowering. She did feel deeply and strongly so it was a rare moment that she could parse out what really was a deep emotion and what had yet to take such a strong root.
”I suppose I’m just…fantasizing about someone loving me like that…and the nicest, single man is fitting the bill, huh?” she said quietly, looking up at Frey to see if they agreed with her assessment.
"Nothing wrong with that. But you're young, chickadee. You want kids? Have them. You want your college? Have it. You want someone to adore and love you for the rest of your life? Well, that isn't exactly the sort of thing you can just put an order in for. Everything else you can do on your own. Love yourself. Want yourself. Pleasure yourself. And one day someone will come along who can do those things for you too, but until then, you can't just fall apart."
So saying, Frey shrugged, honey suckle trailing from their fingers and into Phoebe's hair.
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
Phoebe listened quietly as Frey spoke. Their words were sobering, but not in an unpleasant way. Love herself. That was hard. She was hypercritical of herself with as much ease as she breathed, but loving herself was like trying to climb the Spire from the outside. So saying, it made sense to her. She needed to be stronger on her own two feet. She needed to feel she had worth on her own, rather than worth solely in servitude. Finally she nodded slowly, the same determination she had had when Frey gave her their very first task filling her soul. This was the next hurdle in her growth, or else Frey wouldn’t have brought it up.
Though one thing did strike her as odd.
”How am I to have children on my own?” she asked, smirking up at her friend. ”It isn’t like you just implant things, you aren’t the Voice, remember?” she said, almost teasingly as she recited Frey’s very words back to them. And apparently it was wrong to just…forgo protection because she wanted children according to Remi. It wasn’t like she could just…fertilize herself. That wasn’t how that worked at all. "And if I miscarry again, Mort will he upset and then you will be irritated." she added quietly, remembering how Frey had insisted she use protection to keep the god of death from being upset. But moreover it worried her herself - her miscarriage didn't mean she would definitely do so again, but it was still a worry.
"Not like sperm is particularly hard to cum by, for me or for you." Frey said with a shrug.
"It wasn't he miscarriages, it was fucking about without thought. Have all the sex you want, but unless you're plum sure you want a baby out of it, use protection. What you want and what you're ready for aren't always the same, and fucking a boy in a jail cell hardly seems like well-laid plans for creating a new life."
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
Phoebe looked down immediately, thoroughly chided by Frey’s words. It stung but…Frey didn’t promise to always be kind, especially when kindness wasn’t what was needed. ”Do you think I am not ready for that?” she asked hesitantly. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like their answer, but she valued their thoughts enough to ask anyways. She personally thought she was, and she so desperately wanted them that to her it wasn’t a risk but…Frey had a broader, less personal view of it.
But then something caught her ear, a tiny detail she had missed before.
”Wait…what do you mean, miscarriages?” she asked slowly, color beginning to drain from her face. as far as Phoebe knew, she had only ever gotten pregnant and miscarried once – Emmett’s child. She had been so ill with the blight and the miscarriage so early that she didn’t know about the second child she had very briefly conceived with Sunjata.
"Your eyes get all leaky and you entirely come undone because a boy doesn't look at you the way you want. What are you going to do when it's your own flesh and blood screaming they hate you, because you won't let them eat dirt?" If Phoebe thought love was hard, just wait until she tried being a parent. Oh, the deity had no doubt the midwife was well-suited for it and would do it well, but it was one of the most thankless things she'd ever come up against and given how fragile her sense of self was currently and how much she needed external validation, no, Frey didn't think she was ready.
Raising a brow, the deity nodded. "Mmhmmm. The blight killed it off right quick, but you didn't know that and and let that boy fuck you just the same." Frey said with a pointed stare.
I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be
She swallowed and sighed, biting her lip as she forced herself to not look away. So no. Frey didn’t think she was ready for children. The afterglow suddenly stopped and instead her stomach tied itself in knots. It was one of the most painful truths Frey had ever plopped in front of her. To be told that the one thing you wanted most in life was something you weren’t ready for by a deity that seemed to know all was a major blow to her – which probably only proved Frey’s point more.
But that blow was nothing in comparison to the second revelation.
Her eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly as she gazed up at her god, feeling her heart and lungs stop in her chest. Another. Another. This one killed off by the blight. Another child she would have cherished and loved torn away too soon – so soon she hadn’t even registered their existence. It wall felt so wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong, and the way Frey stared at her did nothing to soothe the sudden ache in her chest. Her eyes squeezed shut and hands curled into fists at her side, fighting the tears that Frey had just criticized her for. But still, a few managed to escape, rolling down her temples and into her hair. ”I’m sorry.” she whispered to them. Everything suddenly felt very out of control, spinning wildly around her. Had this what this had been the whole time? A year’s worth of spiraling madly out of control as she search for things she wasn’t ready for, couldn’t will herself to have, and in the processes losing who she was? Her psyche suddenly hit her rock bottom, her sense of self-worth, ego, pride, mental state – all of it came crashing down around her as low as it could go.
”I want to start over…I need to start over.” she said shakily after an unknown amount of time passed, an odd numbness overcoming her. She didn’t even know what she was doing anymore or who she was or the where, why, when, and how of anything in her life. Maybe it was what she needed, to feel so low that she could only go up.
Frey simply let the midwife stew in her own juices, watching the thoughts as they bunched and constricted in her mind, both seeing and feeling how the girl clenched in response. Sure, Frey could make it go all away, but why? It would only render all this pain for nothing.
"Now seems to be as good a time as any, pumpkin. Start over as many times as you like, there's no limit on it." They said, slowing pulling back and forcing Phoebe to sit up. Much as she might want the deity's continued presence, she needed to start dealing with things on her own.
"Your emotions are strong. It's why they're your biggest strength and weakness. But don't fret. Yes you need to figure your shit out, but its fine that you haven't yet, just so long as you keep putting one foot in front of the other instead of moving backwards."
