Days feel longer without you

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

Cronching through the rest of his toasted sandwich as they each consider the whims of people’s choices, he finds himself unable to do more than shrug and sigh at it all. Certain things in life are not worth raging against because they are the way that they are regardless. It doesn’t mean the anger doesn’t rear up from time to time, especially in the moments where the continual arrangement of shit leads to a desire for something better to yield. In this though, she’s the one who deserves to rage, and he’ll not be letting the stupidity of others ruin his day with her more than it needs to.

Chasing down his last bite with another sip of wine, he can only shake his head about it all. No considerations, no thank yous, sounds like a terrible spot to be in. ”Maybe they forget Demigods are people too,” he offers out, not that it solves much of anything. ”If they’re used to channeling spirits, or gods, they’re not as easy to thank afterwards, not directly.” Might also be a touch less intrusive for those deities to be yanked on via a chain. ”Maybe they’ve thanked you in their head, a prayer, forgetting they can send you a letter. Can’t exactly send a raven to Ludo, after all.” A flimsy argument maybe, that people are too stupid to recognize Mel deserves something more human because she isn’t a god, but he prefers the comfort of that idea over the one that people would choose to be so careless with her. Again though, he shrugs.

Glancing back as she begins to rustle around with her supplies, his grin takes off again when she reveals her addition. His eyes widen, very much appreciative of the show of cheesecake, and impressed it made it. He’d not been willing to risk it, so packed what seemed it could handle the trip. ”That’s perfect!”

Getting back to his feet to carve into the cheesecake, spoon in hand like a weapon he intends to wield, he instead pauses when she suggests she needs ideas for a pose. His gaze lifts from the dessert to her, amusement puckering into his cheeks, aware she needs no such guidance. ”Something liiiiiiiiiike, THIS!” He takes a moment to step back from their picnic spread, then jumps out at once in a spray of limbs, landing with a deep lunge that is proud with the upturn of his chin and the fisting of his hands on either side of his waist, spoon jutting out like the world’s most sad flag between his fingers.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Melita could only shrug, willing to pass through the tension and ease into more formidable things – like dessert and silly poses. If others were careless with her, she’d do something about it, much as she’d done with Kaisel, but in the meantime, there were snacks to coordinate. Plus, she could admit, at least to herself, that there were often shitty plans in her mind that instantly went amuck.

Waiting to see his reaction to the not-demolished-cheesecake, her grin went effervescent, if a bit feral on the ends. Laying the spread out, she snagged at the berries and started placing them along the top and sides, intending for the fruity sweetness to intermingle with the other flavors, and then he was posing.

Her eyes went wide and she didn’t hold back the laughter, letting it mingle throughout her ribs and outwards, jovial and light as it burst outwards, sending some birds flying nearby. “Stop ittttt,” she drawled, obviously not meaning it at all, sides threatening to hurt. “Perfect. I’ll do just that next time,” wiping the tears from her eyes and shaking her head. It would probably eat up three of the six seconds she had upon being dragged into a channel, but that wasn’t necessarily her problem. Maybe it’d stop others from summoning her at all.

Scooping at a portion of a cheesecake layer, tilted her head vaguely, as if trying to portion out her slice juuuust right, ensuring the angle was good enough to encompass a large quantity of berries, before flicking one at Iskra’s knee.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

Positively ripe with success and joy at her reaction, and the solid confirmation that she’ll enact the same pose, his smile is painfully wide. ”You better. I’m gonna track down the next person who channels you to confirm,” he threatens without any true intent. Coming out of the pose proves a touch more difficult, and his arms windmill briefly at his sides as he tries to get his feet back under him properly, although attempting to dive down and catch the berry in his mouth did not help in the slightest (he gets nowhere close either and almost tips over trying). His spoon is lost to the attempt, thudding into the jungle floor.

”Five second rule!” he declares, swooping down to pluck up the spoon the moment he’s no longer spread-legged. Never mind that the rule is usually just for food, the berry is a lost cause that he can’t even see any more. He exhales onto the spoon until his breath fogs the metal, then rubs it vigorously on his shirt. A squinted inspection declares it clean enough to pass.

Leaning over the stone spread with his utensil-weapon poised to strike, he carves out a bite, aiming for a section of well-arranged berries. The bite he takes is an instant melt of satisfaction that he happily exhales around, although one of the berries tries to jump off and he has to catch it with a palm under his chin. Once the dessert is secured in his mouth, he rolls the stray into his fingers and chucks it at her forehead in delayed retaliation.

”Alright your grace, how do you declare the meal?”

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

“Sure,” she mused, taking another swipe of cheesecake and berries, humming contentedly under her breath as the flavor combination settled on her tongue again. Deeply satisfied by these endeavors, she watched his brief comedy act and slapstick routine with an arched brow, trying not to spit out her food in a bout of laughter. Barely stifled, it came out as a loud snort, head shaking while she tried to hide it and failing to do so. She only wrinkled her nose thereafter when it became apparent he was still going to use it as a utensil, then swallowed down the remains of her bite, as if she hadn’t been struggling the whole time.

Competitive to a fault, she snagged another portion soon after his, and as the question arose, she gave the pretense of some poised, dignified lady, crown aloft and still perched on her head. “A rousing success, I’d say. You?” Her eyes flicked back over at him, and then she snatched another larger cut of the cheesecake. By that time though, her stomach was protesting, and soon after she was stretched out like a cat, lounging across the stones and quilt, nearly queenly and sovereign-esque, head propped upwards, supported by the way her hand and elbow extended.

Only then did the berry, in retaliation, ping directly off her forehead. She let out a giggle, and made to snatch it, but Fangorn was much faster – little vines grabbing hold and placing it in his mouth quickly. Not to be deterred (and ignoring that she’d started the whole thing), she dipped her spoon back into some small cut of the dessert, and utilized it as a miniature catapult, wringing it back juuuuust enough so that it launched at Iskra again.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

Always pleased to make anyone happy, but especially her, his grin isn't something quiet or shy in response to the laughter she tries to wrestle back for the sake of her mouthfuls. It leaves him pleasantly glowing, like a sunbeam trapped beneath his skin, escaping in the spread of his smile and the glances he keeps sneaking her way while he fumbles with silverware and desserts.

It's not just what he offers her though, because she directly brightens him with her own antics, turning something as simple as a picnic into a honey-rich moment that will absolutely become a favorite memory later on. Chuckling at the royal airs she puts on, the sound fighting back his attempts to be serious about this and extend the play, he can't help but lose to the humor. "Very good, majesty. Yes, it's all quite delicious." That his attention has wholly shifted from the offerings of food laid out on the stone to the languid sprawl of her against it, as if she is part of the spread, doesn't make the words any less true either.

It's part of what leaves him wholly unprepared for her assault, far too lost in dreamy eyes, the fog of appreciation blinding him even as he sees her take another scoop. It's only as the pulls it back instead of dips it into her mouth does some awareness settle in a series of blinks, but by then it's too late and her food catapault sends the cheesecake smacking into his cheek with a wet slap. His eyes go wide with disbelief, a gasp quickly melting into a loud laugh as he hurriedly sets his spoon down and vaults over the edge of the rock to get on her side. "Oh no, you dropped your bite!" he calls out with mock concern, racing around to her, offending cheek leading the charge as he reaches out to press and smear it on her cheek in return. "Let me help you," he grunts through the effort.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Melita had very few that she cared to keep content in her general expanse – Iskra being one of them – and the rest could either be thwarted by her antics or easily forgotten. So she kept her amusements high and her own satisfaction humming, striving to ensure both of them were wholly occupied and entertained; easier to do with him than most.

Her existence being a distraction wasn’t lost on her, she’d use that as a weapon later, and she couldn’t help the delighted cackle erupting from her lungs as soon as the cheesecake remains contacted his face. The humorous, and slow, display of it crawling down his cheek instigated another rallying cry of laughter, and then she snagged at her spoon, intending to find another portion she could utilize in another display of dessert armaments.

Which, unfortunately, didn’t grant her much time for dodging his incoming retaliation. Lifting her head up, she saw him coming, and desperately flung the small, meager amount of berries left in order to slow him down. Then she flung herself across the quilt, thinking she could crawl her way off the rocks and to victory. It wouldn’t be enough though, and she squealed and shrieked as his smeared cheek left a smudge on hers; spread and smothered. “Nooooo,” echoed, loudly, before she reached up and flicked some of it off, from her fingers, and to his forehead. “It’s all yours!”

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The chase becomes something of a frantic merry-go-round over the base of the rock. Yet as she attempts to clamber over it and to freedom, he's reaching out to grab hold of her and draw her back, in equal measure as he is to climb and crawl after her, ready to hunch like a gargoyle above her in order to return the bite she dropped. The assault of berries causes him to pinch his eyes shut for a moment and flinch back, a grumbled outcry rising, but like buckshot to a horror villain, it does little to slow him down in his pursuit.

He continues after the peals of her laughter until she at last succumbs to the smear of cheesecake too. "Oh, but I wanna share," he asserts, grinning like a man possessed around the wild moment, the chaos of delight nearly electric in the air between them. It's no difficult step then to tilt and angle his assault from a smearing of cheek to cheek, to the eager press of his lips against hers, hands reaching up to bracket against her hip and her jaw, holding her in the breathless scope of affection. He only relents here and there to permit the draw of breath, but never enough to fully part, meaning to swallow every dessert-laden kiss he can. He continues to fold over her, placements of his steps careful as he joins her perch on the rocks, leaning in to sink against her with more of his body length, always chasing as much contact with her as he can.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

The chase heightened the pulse of her boldness, the wild laughter ricocheting and bounding through her lungs. Glee, enthusiasm, sedition, all combining in an imploring, enticing facet – she’d known the imminent tackle was incoming. Probably welcomed it just as much as all the other snares she’d left behind; lures, temptations, the way they alternated from ridiculous amusements to toying with far more fire. All it required was a swift turn of her head and they were sharing; any comeback or retort faded behind her teeth. His mouth came over hers and she could feel the flutter in her ribcage, those feelings engulfing just as readily as all her other rampant, covetous emotions.

Greedy, she grinned, absorbed and engulfed and trying to do the same to him. Her hands swept upward, clutching at his jaw, running along the stubble (if the cheesecake and berries smeared further, so be it) while lips melded; no less eager or fervent. Somewhere in the midst she’d ended up against one of the larger rocks, propped up by stone, surrounded by him and not balking. Instead, she took, snaked, and snagged, one hand liberating his face to begin its natural slide down the course of his chest, feeling the bunch of muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

Only when he drew away could she open her eyes and glance at him, taking a deep breath, gaze searching his. “Mm…I suppose I don’t mind sharing this,” as a concession and a tease – but then again, he’d always offered himself, little by little; maybe she’d been the closed off one, far more inclined to feud and fend off. Snorting in amusement, mostly to herself, she persisted in altering that fact, mouth closing upon his again, teeth purposefully dragged along his bottom lip.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

She is always beautiful and lovely, a draw that he can't escape even when he tries, although he's long stopped trying. It's especially true in moments like this though, when she finally succumbs to the press of their bodies against one another. All her wildness is not gone, but transforms into the splay of her hands and the fever of her attention, an energy he feels through every kiss. With nothing else to compare it to, he's no idea if this is always how it feels, but he can't imagine it is, or else how would anyone be of the mind to walk away from this, to never find this enough and search for it elsewhere, to ever do anything but cherish and preserve this feeling? She is alive in all the best ways and he feels the jolt of it racing through him any time they touch.

The faintest laugh escapes him when she agrees they could share this, but before he can say anything smart in response, or set about cleaning up the mess on either of their faces, she's meeting him once more. The sure clutch of her fingers around him and the unwavering rush of her breath as their lips melt into each other once more sends a warm thrill through him that has little to do with his fire magic. A low, longing groan rumbles free, drug out by the scrape of her teeth, and he sinks into her with more insistence now. "I'm afraid I'm far too greedy about this," he murmurs.

Surrounded as she is by stone, her seat is sure, and he leans into the crook of it. His hand slides up from its anchor on her hip, sinking below the hem of her shirt and up her navel to her chest. The movement is slow and light, coaxing her nerves to stand on end and shiver at the potential there before he grabs a firm hold around the curve of her breast. He squeezes it beneath the wrap of his palm and fingers, fighting against her undergarment for a moment before reaching back to unhook it and free her to the full range of his attention.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Melita didn’t have anything for comparison either; but figured they didn’t need it. She wasn’t one for paragons or pedestals, for distinct measurements of affection and ardor. She drew her lines with simplicity, pettiness, and spite – if she’d been wronged, then there’d be another day where vengeance was sweet and swift and laden with such ferocity they’d wished they’d never met her. If she’d been caught into something this blissful, secure, and revered, then why tarnish it, why second guess, why do anything more than chase it down and have it again and again and again? The only regret she might have shared had been amidst how long they’d taken; both stupefyingly incapable of sense and reason.

But she didn’t even need that now; not when there was Iskra and her and a shelter of yearning, longing, and coveted pieces of one another. She pursued now just as she had before – following, dashing, laying waste to doubts and granting pursuits with a bright grin and a compulsion burning brightly in her ribs. A wild thing pressed into stone, alive on synapses and senses and feeling, fingers beginning their own downward plunge, brazenly curling at the hem of his shirt and tugging, wanting to feel the ripple of muscles underneath. Some intentionally brushed over his abdomen, laughing into his mouth at the low register of moaning rumbling and tumbling outward. She could’ve swallowed that all down and consumed it for what it was worth; mercenary, ravenous. Maybe she’d never be quite sated, always aching for a piece, a touch, a constant of him; whether she’d ask was another thing entirely.

The demigod could hear his words echoing against the beat in her ears, gave a light chuckle that soon altered into a moan as his hands maneuvered beneath her dress. Well, that would make two of us, she thought briefly; but then all pattern of ruminations seemed to be curtailed into that heady rush the moment his calloused fingers roamed along her skin. Not quite capable of speech presently, her agreement and accord carried on the spirit of her rapt enthusiasm; insistence persevering, laden in the course of her teeth rambling along the edges of his mouth, to her tongue sliding past his lips, wanton, brazen, taking, scorching, seeking. The fervor rose in the heat of his touch, a gasp, a moan, echoing on sultry whims and a hooded gaze, urging him onward as she leaned into the caress at her breast. Unrestrained in her passion, her keenness and enthusiasm persisted; lower legs intending to hook around his hips, bring him closer and closer still.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

The small rush of her laugh buffeting around him does little to stall his chase of her body. The sound carries no mockery or other assault, just the casual joy that lifts from her chest like a flock of birds that've been circled too closely. New to this, there's an awkward rush that rises and washes over with a current like anxiety, but it's richer, fuller, flooding him with anticipation instead of doubt, even as it prickles as his nerves and roars with a dull sound in his ears. The slide of her hand against his skin pulls the crest of that wave through him, and full of tingles like his entire body had fallen asleep and now rises, numb, he grins back against her with the reckless agreement of want and having someone to share it with.

His hand rolls without hindrance now against her breast, the contours of it swaying beneath the glide of his palm, the spokes of his fingers. His fingers tease and pinch lightly at her nipple, ending with the quiet circle of his thumb before he moves to repeat the same focus to her other side. His mouth meanwhile moves lower, sinking along her neckline, tongue hot and holding her skin as he sucks and nips with the threat of a mark forming. The tug she demands is obeyed with a butter-softness as he leans into her, hips finding hers with a brush of delicious friction against their clothes, hardness already forming like his own brand of a rock he's encircling her with. "Mmmm, Mel," he appraises, the sound low from his chest and rolling like smoke across her collarbone, actual heat flickering between his lips and the edges of her as his magic scatters the most mild sparks between them.

He tugs his shirt over his head in one, fluid movement, bundling it aside before leaning in with a renewed hunger for her lips. The feast is brief, before his hands are tugging her garment up and away as well, eager to claim her nipples between his teeth.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

Any and all apprehension Melita had felt was long-gone; these were ambitious, persistent waters, insistent on the chase and the zeal and the fervor. It was all boldness now, clearer still. She knew what she wanted – cravings and desires and yearnings were the easier part. The layers in between were finely stoked though, on rushes of laughter or the incessant need, building and brewing and demanding; an urgent, incessant longing starting low in her core and rising along her ribcage, her skin, her flesh, her bone, her soul, with each current of their movements.

The appetite wasn’t nearly sated anyway; though she leaned back into the pillar of rock behind her as his hand rolled along her breast, pushing her chest upwards to feel, to receive, more and more. An eager little moan contorted out of her, followed by another rushing laugh to go alongside, spine arching, sinuous designs and effects of hunting down their inevitable rush. His mouth maneuvering along her neck though, coinciding with the raised stubble puckering at her skin, unfurled another groan of pleasure, a hiss between her lips. She half-intended to mark him too, with her mouth or nails or something – the plot was lost the moment his hips moved into hers. “Teaaaaase,” came on a long-winded drawl, as if she’d forgotten to take a breath, the ghost of another moan continuing as she ground down against him, purposeful, given the glint in her eye –

She scarcely noticed the sparks and the smoke though; not when he was already tugging off his shirt and she had more access to his chest, the course of his muscles, the shape of his arms. ”Yes,” lingered within an uttered sibilance, like she’d won a prize. In lustful admiration her hooded gaze swept over him again, leaning forward so her mouth could slide along his collarbone – but no sooner was he stripping her away, dress rippling across her body, off and away. She shuddered once or twice as the air ghosted over her; but then he was there, and suddenly very much immersed in his actions, trying to replicate it for both of them. So her hands wound their way down his abdomen, fingers tugging at his waistband of his pants.

salvation doesn't look like light

Iskra

Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

Unfolding her from her clothing is like any prize dessert slowly revealing itself from its wrapping. The outside is lovely, but once she’s bare, that’s when his mouth begins to water. He takes a moment to fully soak in the sight of her curled and waiting against the rock, flushed with the rise of arousal that’s echoed in the strain against his pants, one that leapt to life quickly the moment their hips aligned. An approving sound hums against her breast as he leans in and captures it with his mouth, trading between each pair with a hungry intent for fairness, though he soon dissolves into just a simple madness of running hand and tongue all against her midriff the more he has access to her.

His pulse jumps in response to the sinking presence of her hands, breaking from the doting of her exposed skin with a pant as he glances down at the efforts. The sight of her seeking him, wanting him—it flares the urge into something more wild, a nearby leaf racing into fire and then ash. He’s got no words for the moment, but he has ideas.

On of his hands slides overtop hers, and together he holds her palm flat against the shape of his want straining through his pants, pushing his erection against her like an offering of what she’s doing to him. His gaze sits on her now, tracing every flicker and shadow that passes, desire devouring his expression into something animalistic. Taking her hand still, her slides her beneath the waistband she’d been tugging at, trembling at the closer contact. With each of their other hands still free and working on his pants, those soon enough give away, offering freedom that he shuffles out of, not willing to break the feel of her to gracefully discard them.

Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end

melita

She arched and leaned into the motions of his mouth, felt the longing stir beneath her skin and along her body in wanton edges; a moan breaking away from her lungs with each exquisite rush of his tongue down the course of her flesh. Gestures for more came with the pitch of her keen sounds; hooded gaze taking him in – a lustful gaze traversing down the course of his frame like she could bite and consume and devour with little remorse. At one point she might have laughed when the stubble along his jaw caught a ticklish endeavor, but otherwise she reached and pulled, tugged for him too; shuddered, shivered, ached for further undulations. A difference in the last time they’d caught themselves here – that had felt rushed, heady, both racing and chasing for something they hadn’t known the other craved too. This shift felt like intention and stretching, secure, more known, less impetuous, defined and definite and not wholly clouded by all those confusions.

She’d drawn that line in the sand months before, stepped over it with bold stride after bold stride, daring and tossing and there to meet him.

But gods, any clarity was sent back into the thrall the moment his hands guided hers; a simple, feral, ghost of a grin contorted into her features and didn’t leave; flickering her gaze to meet his on a provoking measure. She gave an experimental touch, fingers airy, a caress, of flesh beneath his waistband, to watch his reaction, to relish the thoughts and motions of desires warring through his face. Light at first as pants fell away and shuffled off somewhere, before she became audacious; hand purposeful at his cock, teasing, coy, while she raised her face to his; every bit a fringe of assured, brazen, and shameless pursuits. “I want you,” she breathed over his lips, letting it echo and pulse, before her mouth claimed his, let the fervor reverberate. No room for questions or apprehensions, seditious and forthright. Even thereafter, to clarify her point, she took her free hand and snagged at his, leading him towards her own core, eager for him.

salvation doesn't look like light