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!
Morgan had almost left the Grounds altogether out of embarrassment five times on the way to their destination, sure that every passer-by somehow knew where they were heading. Of course she'd had to go and involve herself with a man that needed a special room to stand to attention.
Neron went in to get keys from the man that gave them out, Morgan very insistent that she would stay outside for that, not wanting her face seen by anyone in association with this. She was not squeamish about sex, not ashamed of her body and wants, but it was hardly fitting of the leader of a nation (well, at least, the leader of a nation again come Flowerbirth) to be seen running about finding sex rooms in the Grounds; especially not with her Spymaster.
Thankfully Neron was in the 'Sanctuary' a mercifully short time and they could head across the street. Morgan tried to let out a breath as she did, let go of some of the tension that had built in her over the last half hour, because it wasn't the kind of tension that would help them here. Watching Neron unlock the door, she even permitted herself a smile; she had, after all, actually been looking forward to this, and it seemed like they'd pulled it off without an international incident.
The room itself was pleasant enough, not the sex dungeon she had feared; couches and blankets and little else clearly marked out it's purpose, and she would not dare to look in the chest by the door, but it would do. "It's less....well. Disgusting than expected." She said, a laugh leaving her as she turned to look at Neron.
Neron, on the other hand, was not remotely embarrassed about anything to do with this; indeed, excitement and anticipation had long overtaken any nerves that might have been bubbling beneath the surface. He'd collected the keys from Bastien and returned to Morgan in record time - and she may have noticed, if she looks closely, that her Spymaster seems a lot sneakier than he used to. Almost invisible, one might say.
More on that another time, though. Checking, for Morgan's benefit, that there really is no one around, the Hailstorm unlocks the door to the room with a gentle click, pushing it open and grinning across at her. "Have a little faith, Warden." It doesn't matter if that's technically not true for now - she's still Warden to him. "We would hardly leave it as a dive."
Still, whatever he might have said next is thoroughly stolen from him as he finally steps into said room, Neron reaching out to steady himself against the doorframe, releasing a breathless sort of laugh. (Quite a feat for one who doesn't have breath). "After you," he says, gesturing for Morgan to step in so she might experience it as well while he locks the door.
It was probably a testament to his sneakiness that Morgan in fact did not notice if Neron was ever so slightly invisible, her mind far more occupied with maintaining as much of a dignified façade as she could until they got through the door. If she did mention it, it would be once this was done and her head was cleared enough for her to think back and suddenly realise.
"I trust you wouldn't, but I can't trust everyone to leave such a place clean." Though, as Morgan stepped in (feeling the rush Neron had, but to a lesser extent - after all, she had more senses than he did normally) and truly examined the place, she was satisfied enough to unclip her cloak and lay it on a couch by the entrance. Without it she always felt so much smaller, the heavy cloak often providing her silhouette with a lot of bulk.
Turning to look at Neron in the doorway, the laugh on his lips, Morgan's eyes adopted a tone that could be referred to as fond. "Are you alright? You seem overtaken with...something." Of course, she had some idea as to what, but it didn't seem polite to assume.
Neron wants to reply with his usual snark or sharp humour - regrettably, the sudden onslaught of physical sensation is something of a massive distraction. Morgan steps in to join him in the room and he busies himself with twisting the key in the lock; the click is satisfying, like a confirmation that they are truly alone for as long as they need. The Glacier's words have him turning with a raised brow, and whilst Morgan has undoubtedly seen him look at her in this way before, he's never been able to do much with the appreciation in his gaze, the heat that pools in his belly at the sight of her.
"Are you deciding, right now, to be coy?" he asks, laughter lacing his words as he crosses the room to her. Cool fingers ghost across her upper arms, stroking along her shoulders so he twine his fingers through her curls. "Come a little closer and I have no doubt you'll understand what I'm overtaken by," he suggests.
"Less coy, more...terrible at flirting." Morgan laughed, entirely honest and vulnerable in the moment in a way she was not with anyone else. Because she was trying to flirt, even if it was nowhere near as elegant as Neron's quips - or the delicate touches on her arms, which cut off her laugh with a sigh as her skin shivered and she turned to look at him.
At least she could communicate her feelings another way, the rooms heat certainly making it very tempting indeed. Knowing what Neron liked and feeling quite in the mood to grasp what she wanted anyway, Morgan grasped the front of his shirt and pull him forwards, pressing her lips hard onto his and at the same time letting of her hands slide down the side of his body and end at his ass, squeezing; there was time for soft love making when they'd gotten this out of their systems, but right now she had weeks of unsatisfied tension to get through.
To feel him and know he could feel her touch fully made it all so much more intense than their bedroom adventures before and she leaned into that intensity, pulling back for a moment only to bite at his lip, catching his eyes as she did.
He might have offered her some kind of reassurance about her flirting, if she hadn't done away with the preamble altogether. A soft groan rumbles in Neron's chest as Morgan grabs for his shirt, drawing them together in a press of delicious heat that he can fully enjoy for the first time in over a year. His fingers tighten in her hair, hips rocking forward so she can understand exactly what she's doing to him, and he briefly regrets his fashion choices that favour tight pants.
Not that he plans to be wearing them for long. Still, he hisses out a playful sigh as she squeezes his ass, letting his fingertips draw along her curves, cupping a breast just as she nips at his lower lip. An appreciative hum leaves his throat, and steel blue eyes seem much more Abandoned than Ascended in the moment. Letting a smirk curl across lips that Morgan still holds hostage, he raises an eyebrow. It's a suggestion, an offer, a question - lady's choice who takes the lead.
Feeling Neron's hips press against her, with the rather obvious difference that the room made, drew a soft, laughing hum from Morgan, her fingers pressing harder on his skin where she held him. She hadn't realised just how much she'd been looking forward to being with him, to touching him and knowing he felt the same electricity she did when their bodies met.
She had started this endeavour confidently and ready to take control, but as Neron's hand touched her chest and his eyes looked into hers...Morgan felt herself soften, turned her head to look at the cushioned space behind them, then back to Neron. Maybe it would be nice for once to not be in control, to let go, to not be as hard (and Neron certainly was). Without words, she gently let her arms encircle his waist and took some steps back until the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, then she sat and pulled him over her, hoping the implication was clear, especially as she leaned back and unbuttoned her shirt, her bare chest displayed before him and expectant eyes staring up.
01-25-2021, 08:22 PM (This post was last modified: 01-25-2021, 08:23 PM by Neron.)
Neron
so leave yourself intact
'cause i will be coming back
And there certainly is electricity (though not the literal kind), Neron's smile growing as Morgan's arms encircle him, drawing him along with her towards the bed. They tumble down together, the Hailstorm blanketing her, holding himself over her just enough that she can loosen the buttons of her shirt. They're pressed together in all the right places anyway, and as she gazes up at him he has to resist the urge to simply take her then and there.
"You are incredible," he informs her - words like gorgeous or beautiful don't do Morgan justice, but that isn't to say that Neron doesn't find her a pretty face and then some. And so he wastes no more time, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss, one arm bracing himself over her while the other goes to work on her ample curves. His hips press in, grinding against her in a way that has him hitching a breath in a sharp inhale, and his hand slips down to grasp her thigh, to anchor her even more deliciously against him.
"Incredible. Hm." Morgan found that compliment was easier to take on than others, smiled at him and responded, as she leaned up to meet him in the middle, an arm sliding around his shoulders: "You are...I want you." Not the most elegant of sentences, changing halfway in, but she was distracted; the sudden press of his hips on hers, the hand on her thigh: if she had said anything longer, it would have been cut off anyway.
The kiss this time was deeper, more involving; her body moved from instinct, hips rolling up and back arching into Neron, her mouth opening for him: however he wanted her she was there, ready to take it. Though perhaps not entirely willing to give up all her control, her hands slid down to Neron's shirt and began to unbutton it, fingers spreading out over his chest as it was revealed.
Pulling back to gasp for a breath (sadly, something she still needed, even if Neron could do without), she looked down as her fingertips stroked down his torso to the fabric of his pants, for now going over and gently, almost barely, stroking the outline of his erection, biting her lip without thinking about it.
"Not as much as I want you." It's a twee saying and Neron will slap himself later for being so corny and obvious, but at the moment all of his senses have gone into overdrive. He can feel the heat of her grinding against him, the softness of her skin, the cool sheets, the smell of incense and wine. That combined with the very, very obvious erection he's sporting and it's no wonder that Neron is very much not in the right headspace for conversation.
Luckily Morgan is there to silence him with a kiss, and the Ascended presses in hungrily, the dance of his tongue saying more than his piss-poor attempts at seduction would anyway. When the Glacier draws back and leaves him craving more, it's all he can do not to lean in and lavish further attention on her with his teeth (not least because she'd probably slap him, and he'd definitely like it).
But as her fingertips ever so gently reach for him, a hissed inhale has him biting the inside of his cheek in return. "I do hope you aren't expecting miracles for the first time," he mumbles, the words half an apology as he leans in to lavish kisses down the column of her throat, hands stroking and exploring over curves, playfully pinching at a nipple, impatiently moving to undress the rest of her.
Neron was lucky that Morgan was distracted enough to not think too much about what he was saying, or she would have absolutely jumped on the chance to laugh at his cheesy line. Thankfully for him, she was far more occupied with what was in her hands, smiling into the kiss as Neron reacted and moving in a bit more confidently, using her palm to stroke up and down, fingers sliding easily over the contours of his cock through the fabric.
"Don't put your work down before you show it." She said, a phrase she'd repeated before to recruits, though her voice was far more distracted than the harsh tone she might usually have. Morgan's fingers in her free hand rose up to tangle in Neron's hair as he kissed by her throat, heading tipping back, body arching up - realising he was trying to undress her further she lifted her hips, making it easier for him to take off her belt and pants (and in the process, pressing her again up to his erection, the contact a delicious little shot of heat).
Her other hand, now impatient after the build up of tension in her body, reached up and pressed into his waistband, fingers wrapping around him without any barrier now, stroking and feeling, already imagining it inside her; combined with his kisses and touches, Morgan moaned freely, eyes closed and lips just parted.
One might have expected that the feeling of Morgan's hands on his cock would have been all consuming, given just how long it has been - but in truth it's all of it. Her fingers tangled in his hair, the arch and press of her hips against his erection, the whisper of her breath and the taste of her skin; Neron drowns happily in it. His fingers deftly unbuckle her belt, though they grow clumsy at her touch as it slips beneath his waistband.
Moaning against her throat, Neron's fangs barely graze the skin there, and he has to remind himself not to bite down (at least not without permission). "I'll remind you of those words later," he mumbles, just about managing a smile, though it's exquisitely difficult to keep his concentration when his hips want to move in tandem with her hand. Eventually her belt does come unbuckled, Neron reluctantly sitting back to help her out of the rest of her clothes. He takes a second simply to admire her, steel blue eyes roving across her body.
Moving with Neron was easy, the rolls of her hips and touch of her hands coming naturally to Morgan as she kissed and felt him; it felt like they had done this hundreds of times, like she knew the steps to the dance already. She had very rarely felt so comfortable with anyone and after the event, she would reflect on that: for now though, she was taken up with the graze of his fangs on her neck, closing her eyes in anticipation for a bite that didn't come, sighing with frustration as he pulled away.
Perhaps the problem was that she was not yet undressed. Morgan leant down and shoved off her pants and boots, going to pull down Nerons fully too, wanting it to be very clear that she wanted this to move along swiftly, her breaths quick in anticipation of what was to come, her hands idly stroking along his length every so often before she lay back down.
"Is there a reason you aren't using your teeth?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. It was rather obvious that she was affected regardless, legs spread to reveal her wetness and chest moving with her deep breath, but Morgan couldn't deny that she craved the extra level the Ascended bite brought to encounters.
Neron huffs out a soft laugh at Morgan's eager hands, and he obliges of course. They are both stripped down within moments, and he can feel the heat of her skin against his as he leans in for another kiss. His hands guide her hips up against his own, anchoring her against him in a teasing display that has a shuddering sigh escaping his lips; by the time she speaks, Neron has wound himself up enough that it takes a couple of moments for the words to sink in.
"Wasn't sure if you wanted that sort of thing for this," he tells her through a voice made tense by desire, pressing another kiss against her neck that promises more, but not quite. She'll have to be explicit with her wishes if she wants his teeth as well as his cock - and honestly, that's mainly because Neron is pretty sure the additional pleasure of an Ascended bite will finish this before it's even begun.
But he can't deny either of them any longer, and so, hitching Morgan up a little further, the Hailstorm enters her with a curse of pleasure whispered against her skin. It takes everything not to simply bury himself in her heat over and over again, to thrust his way into oblivion within moments, and so when his hips move it's almost painstakingly slow, though that makes it no less gratifying.
