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!
He dives into the kiss and Isla will probably be able to feel the way her fingers lacing through his hair cause his body to twitch as if shivers were racing up and down them. Certainly the shutter of an unnecessary breath that takes across her lips is a good indicator, a hum of a laugh that leaves him as he moves to press a series of kisses against her as he walks toward the bed with her. “Means that I’m all in this with you.” Comes the next husky whisper, a smirk as he moves to set her down onto the bed.
It doesn’t go quite as he has planned though, because she’s quite successful in tugging him down with her, the metal arm used to prop himself up, placed carefully above her head as he peers down at her, a silver flush covering the tops of his ears down his cheeks and to his neck. He clicks his tongue as she races to unbutton his shirt and he watches her through eyes of lusty blues. “I think we absolutely should.” He agrees, his freehand readjusting them in a way he can get his knees onto the bed, can kick off his boots, before he’s running that same hand up Isla’s side under her shirt — bunching it up to try and slip it over her head once he manages it.
He does, however, dive into a deeper kiss, tongue raking along her lower lip as he presses his hips down against hers in a mixture of impatience and teasing.
Isla absolutely does feel it, and with the room's effect in full swing, it makes her want to both laugh and scream at being able to enjoy such comparatively minor sensations. And so down they tumble onto the bed, struggling to undress each other like teenagers. "Oh, I've got no doubt that you are," she chuckles, though there's a definite heat lacing through her words. Granted, those very same words are muffled as Cal tries to pull her shirt over her head, Isla huffing out a victorious breath once she can finally ball it up and throw it to the side.
"Cal," she says with a chuckle, trying to push his shirt down over his shoulders. "At this rate it'll be over before it starts." It's only a joke, but she does lean in for a softer kiss, her tongue teasing against his lips, her hands drifting in a slow whisper down his chest. "Gods, I love the feel of you."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
He can’t help the chuckle that leaves him too as she agrees, and while he fiddles to try and get her shirt off he’s successful given the huff of victory from Isla. It quirks his lips as he withdraws, hearing her balled up shirt hit the floor right precisely as she captures all of his attention – hungry oceanic eyes locked on her face as she pushes his shirt down around his shoulders, trapping some of the movement from his upper arm but revealing the bright glint of metal and slight scar tissue where it connects to his skin.
“Is that so bad?” He teases her, a deep rumble, a smirk and a wink. “I mean, s’not like we can’t have a round two.” He mumbles against her skin, huffing another laugh alongside it as the conversation is paused while their tongues tangle and Varus shivers, his metal hand raking through her blonde halo of hair while his other hand works at the button of her pants. He withdraws from her lips to press a kiss to the hollow of her throat, slipping down her chest, hopefully tugging her pants off as he goes. “You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He asks, peering up at her from where his head hovers over one of her breasts.
Isla's eyes flutter shut at the feel of his attention; the hands ghosting over her skin, the tongue pressed against her own, the feel of hard muscle and soft lips and everything she's been missing. Hitching in a breath that might be a gasp, her head tilts back and her hips lift so he might be able to tug her pants off; at the same time, her fingers tease through the back of his dark hair, twining it between them.
"When you put it like that, we may as well already plan for round two," she whispers, a fanged grin tugging at her lips, and she blinks her eyes back open just in time to blink down at him. Silver races over her cheeks, Isla's free hand stroking down across his shoulder, and it doesn't matter if it's his metal arm or the one made of flesh and fluid - she still wants his hands pressed back against her.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
Her pants slip off with surprising ease, though the lifting of her hips certainly help. And he hums a wordless appreciation of it as he gives his focus elsewhere, shrugging out of the shirt to let it drop to the floor along with hers, before his hands find her again, as his lips find her chest and a lust driven blue gaze finds hers in the lowlight of the room. Goosebumps rise along his skin and he plunges down, kisses pressed to one of her breasts before his lips and tongue find her nipple, his hand toying with her other breast, while his metal hand shifts her legs up a bit higher to rest along his shoulders.
He’s surprisingly breathless for someone that doesn’t need breath, and the metal hand replaces his lips as he sinks further down, leaving a trail of kisses and lingering attentions to her stomach and each of her thighs as he sinks down and down her body. “Good.” He says quite distractedly as he focuses on answering her prior comment (he’s been distracted, who can blame him?) “Means I get to take my time with this.” He teases her with a breathy laugh, the Ascended growing a fanged smirk that he’s sure Isla might be able to feel against her thigh.
Her lips part in a moan to feel the hot press of his lips and tongue against her nipple, Isla arching off the bed a bit, her head tilting back and her eyes slipping shut.
"Gods, Cal," she sighs out, wanting to laugh and scream at the same time, especially as he hooks her legs over his shoulders. Completely bared to him, she teases her fingers through his hair as his lips travel lower, the medic wanting so much more than what's on offer currently.
"I hope you aren't planning to take your time too much," she mumbles breathlessly, already shifting her hips as if to encourage his kisses along the inside of her thigh. "I wouldn't want you to end up too frustrated down there."
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
He travels lower and lower, lips pressed to the inside of her thigh as he hears her breathless complaint, feels the way she arches her hips slightly just to guide him closer. “Oh, I’ll be fine.” He rumbles, an arrogant cockiness coating his words. “I can be incredibly patient.” He teases with a breathy laugh, hands still dancing along her skin until he’s lowered them enough to wrap around her hips, tugging her closer as he shifts enough to rest on his knees.
Once she’s close enough, he presses another long kiss right against her, fingers digging into her hips as he tries to follow his own words of patience – humming a growl of a sound, tongue slipping out in one swipe of a tease at first, a taste, before he can’t help himself but to surge forward a bit further, lips and tongue dancing along her clit as he drowns himself in her.
11-05-2021, 10:57 AM (This post was last modified: 11-05-2021, 10:58 AM by Isla.)
Isla
"Just because you can be, doesn't mean I want you to be--" Isla manages, before his kisses finally hit their mark and any sense other than the physical completely blanks out her mind. Her fingers tighten in his hair, as if to keep him pressed between her legs, and she sighs out a moan that tapers off into a mewl of pleasure as his tongue rolls against her clit. She's already wet for him, already wanting more, and the room they find themselves in does the rest.
It seems indulgent, to be able to enjoy the soft, plush feel of the sheets pressed against her back, the cool air on her bare skin, and her toes curl as Cal lavishes her again and again with the sort of attention she doesn't even know she's been craving. "Gods, right there--" she all but purrs, suddenly wanting his fingers against her hips to leave marks, wanting the feel of his teeth instead of his tongue, hot and skilled as it might be.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
“Mm..?” He half mumbles into her skin, given the fact he’s quite occupied right now, head buried between her thighs, tongue and lips offering up pleasure for her to indulge in. He doesn’t mind, because he knows he’ll get to indulge himself later — especially given how much she’s insisting on it. So he experiments, lavishing her and pausing as she moans, like music to his ears. There’s a vibrating rumble that leaves him, greedy and hungry, and his metal hand remains at her hip digging in just as she subconsciously wishes, though it’s mostly for Varus to get a better grip on her to dive in.
His other hand snakes down her body, pressing along the inside of her thigh, and it’s one of the benefits of being Ascended is not needing breath, not needing to pause to catch it from a heaving chest. He can dive into her more fully, pausing just enough to place a kiss against her clit, using the moment to slip his finger into her wetness, to slip just a fraction inside her, waiting to see if that’s what she wants or if it’s his still trapped and aching cock instead.
Hissing in a breath she absolutely doesn't need, Isla suddenly adores the feeling of cool metal pressed against her hips and thighs, and silver paints a blush along her cheeks as her back arches, trying to offer more of herself up to his tongue and fingers. With her legs draped about his shoulders it's hardly possible to get closer than she is, and yet Isla still craves it. And when a finger slips inside her, accompanied by a hot kiss and a vibrating hum from his lips, it's almost too much.
"Fuck," she almost whispers, her fingers having slipped out of his hair now so she might grip the sheets instead, like she needs something to hold onto. "Cal, please..." Isla isn't above begging, clearly, and if that isn't evidence that she still wants him, she's not sure what else she can do (other than taking it for herself, but they're still playing coy, she thinks).
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
It’s still made that much easier by not needing to breathe, nor by having to readjust for any twinges of pain or legs falling asleep. Isla’s near whisper has a crooked smirk forming on his face, one that has him shivering in his anticipation as he continues to drive her wild. With her hands out of his hair, he glances up at her, the finger inside her accompanied by another, his thumb taking over the pressure and the raking his tongue had done along her clit, and he lets his oceanic gaze focus with that predatory stillness on her face.
His tongue slips out to run along his bottom lip, continuing to toy with her, hips pressing against the edge of the bed to try and relieve some amount of relief. “Tell me what you want.” His voice is rougher, heavier, gaze swimming with lust and desire. He’s brought her this close already, the least he can do is give her what she wants.
It's through hooded eyes that Isla gazes down at Cal, predator meeting predator in a clash that she can't help but savour. With a flex of her legs she feels like she can probably pin him down against her, and the thought has a whisper of a fanged smile flickering across her face. But then of course he turns up the heat, dragging a gasp from her throat as her head tilts back into the pillows.
"Gods, Cal - I want you to fuck me," she growls softly, toes curling at the sensation of not enough that is still traitorously bringing her so close to the edge. She wants to feel him all over her, wants to drag them both into the abyss of pleasure before their minds catch up with them too much.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
He likely wouldn’t complain about the back and forth, the two of them so similar and so different in varying ways that he almost wonders how crafty she could be when it comes to teasing and taunting him. But she answers him and he rumbles a small breathy laugh, slowing and withdrawing from her while he’s kept her burning, the metal hand and flesh hand leaving her to work on himself. The metal hand pushes back the long dark hair that’s fallen forward into his eyes, his other hand working at his belt, humming a bit of relief the second he pops the button of his pants.
The Captain’s shoulders sink a fraction as he works to slip the rest of his clothes off, his hands reaching for her to draw her closer to him, to press them chest to chest, lips seeking hers out in a greedy demanding kiss while the tip of his cock presses insistently against the inside of her thigh, drawing a deep rumble from his throat and chest.
He draws away from her, but Isla far from does nothing as she waits for him to relieve himself of the rest of his clothes. With flinty eyes in the dim light, the medic's hands go to pleasure herself even as she watches the Captain finish his strip tease, a smile curling across her lips. "It feels like far too long since we did this," she purrs, leaning up to meet him halfway, lips crashing against his, hands greedily roaming over his shoulders and back.
Gasping to feel Cal pressed up against her, Isla's fingers twist into the back of his dark hair, and she shifts impatiently as if to encourage him to be done with teasing, to bury himself in her at last. "What are you waiting for?" she whispers, grinning and leaning in to nip at his throat with her fangs, not quite breaking the skin.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight we're always running scared but holding knives
