[seasonal event] to find a soul somewhere

Deimos Human, mortal, man, bending to no one but the goddess sketching worship and reverence upon the impudent, and he swallowed, devoured, consumed by fire and need, absorbed by her laughter, by the combined decibels of havens, thresholds, and rivulets. Her nails didn’t leave scars, but marks on his soul, where he gasped and clawed for them again, the outline of fervor and fever brandished, building, brimming, along his lungs, down his ribcage, conforming and tethering their beatific lines along his neck and his throat. The only sounds he made were keening ricochets, infinite snarls catching on coiled strokes, once threatening annihilation and condemnation, and here, now, only begging, aching, for more. His eyes were inclinations and impulses, dipping low to follow the lines and curves of her frame, one hand regarding paths he intended to cross again, mouth dipping across one shoulder, teeth briefly catching on skin, burning an infernal wake in their fanged torment; and he only seized altogether when her palm managed to graze him, lower and lower. He froze, shuddered, shivered, at her mercy for those few, perilous seconds, when his gaze slid over to her with an emboldened predilection, unrelenting, vicious, predator prowess akin to urging her onward - go ahead - immersed, shadowed, in a wicked, nefarious, unsaid refrain. He licked his lips, sought to advance, sought to progress, sought to dive straight into her and make any giggles turn to mewls, moans, and groans. They were already ignited, setting fire, ablaze, a tapestry and canvas of infernos, a painter’s licentious, decadent masterpiece, somewhere in between an oeuvre and an orchestra, sparks blazing on skin and sin. There was only smoke and fire and plumes twisting and turning along the backdrop, behind their eyes, in smiles, in depths, in conflagrations, avaricious with no resistance, nothing to cease, nothing to stop, nothing to halt the advance of their combustion. It must’ve been just enough to push her over the edge – he had half a moment to admire and revere the savage smile (when had they become such beastly, untamed things – his composure gone, her shyness no longer intact, reserves scattered straight to the stars?), before she descended upon him, hungry, craving, and he was swept into her essence with no hesitation. He barely breathed, hands somewhere in her hair, grazing her spine, her hips, he really didn’t particularly care, tongue sweeping along her lips, then further, tasting more and more and more, blinded by yearning, longing, and lust, passion curling in his groin, in his heart. He’d never tasted anything ambrosial, but likened it to her, taking, taking, taking, covetous art in their serpentine strains. She rolled her hips into his and he was thoroughly lost; Machiavellian mind gone, entirely vacant, ardent ambitions filling in the hollowed, calculating vacancies, breath pooling in waves across her face as he pulled back, as she rose – “Hang on,” the Reaper laughed, managed to chuckle into their pressing allure, dipping his cranium only to concentrate, bringing one hand over his cock, a gilded glow resonating only for the shortest of seconds, creating protection, a barrier, a sheath, while she hummed along his nape, his skin. He arched to her without a second thought, leaning back only to savor, to admire, for another wild, vicious interval, and then roamed along her hips, inviting, coaxing her, down, down, down, upon him, over him, so they slid, united, together. “All right?” He inquired, humming, crooning, the most rapacious, ravenous dedication and declaration in the stitches and seams of him – eternally avaricious, scrambling for purchase, for bedroom hymns to echo in his movements, in his motions. The beast waited, completely, utterly undone, body and love proffered up to her in their salacious actions, encouraging her to adjust, before bucking upwards again, intentionally slow. A crooked grin incensed, incited, and aroused the absolution, the revolution, the sedition, pooling molten vehemence, ardor, and intensity into the particular rhythm, mouth reaching for hers again, stealing gasps and tremors. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime