[The location Zed sends after some time is a more secluded clearing within Level 2's groves. Zed sits in a meditative posture and he looks otherwise serene until Avicebron arrives. As if flipping a switch, his whole body tenses as he looks up with a jerk of his head, like a predator spying a new target. A few tense seconds pass, and Zed forces an exhale while reigning himself in. He stands then, giving a bow to Avicebron:]
[ He arrives in spiritual form, appearing out of thin air with a shimmer of light. So he can understand Zed being startled to some degree -- but that level of aggression is certainly a surprise, given how calm Zed's seemed at other times. The moon's effects must really be getting to him. ]
Mm. Worry about that later.
[ Avicebron waves aside Zed's polite greeting, instead getting straight to work. He's brought along some pre-made golem cores, and kneels to the ground, pressing one into the dirt. Within moments, a golem made of dirt and rock emerges from the ground; Avicebron snaps his fingers, and it slowly lumbers towards Zed, eyes glowing dimly. ]
It will fight defensively, and I can create more if necessary. You've no need to hold back.
[ On a more selfish note, this is a good chance to observe Zed's abilities. A little side benefit to helping Zed out. A normal human would never stand a chance against his golems, but ... well, he'll have to see what Zed's capable of. ]
[...Makes sense why Caster calls himself such. Zed's more used to fighting trash golems than he cares to admit, but he has to wonder how strong an earthen one could turn out. He doesn't doubt that its durability is increased by magic. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a good opponent to beat on.
Zed summons forth a blood trident as the golem approaches. But rather than a smooth, instantaneous morphing, the blood comes out his hand as writhing tendrils that he forces into form. It feels good to have it out instead of suppressing the urge. And while sight and feel of his own blood does a bit to fulfill a some need in him, it doesn't ease him completely. Plus, there's a nice ring to hearing that he doesn't need to hold back.
His work with the trident is lightning quick as he lashes out at the golem's limbs, slices that would even cut steel cleanly. Then one hop away for distance, and Zed pulls his arm back to javelin his weapon at the golem's face, aiming for right between those glowing eyes. The moment the trident leaves his fingers, a burst of air explodes from it, propelling it faster and with more force to pierce.]
[ Those slices cleave through rock and dirt, leaving deep gashes that hamper the golem's movements. Even with Avicebron's direct control, it struggles to take a wide-armed swipe at Zed -- leaving it wide open for that javelin-throw. The spear impales through the golem with raucous noise, and the golem jolts before starting to crumble, its inner core damaged. ]
Impressive.
[ A low murmur under his breath as Avicebron immediately touches the ground once more, summoning another one -- this time with a longer incantation, the ground around him glowing before a golem strides forth. This one's darker in color, parts of it reinforced with twists of tree root.
He'd had a hunch that Zed's abilities would be far beyond that of a normal human, but this is even greater than what he expected. Of course, his own golems are greatly hampered by the cost of mana usage and the poor materials here, but he's still determined to rise to the challenge.
He'll just keep making better, longer-lasting ones until he finally finds one that will wear Zed out. ]
[Zed's glad for the continuous production of golems as he goes about hacking apart, skewing, and dismantling one by one. He sticks to using his trident for the most part, though he does occasionally use ropes and spikes to impede movement so he can eagerly gouge away at roots and earth. (No tornadoes today. The poor trees don't deserve it.) After the third goes down, he laughs in triumph. There's something euphoric in it that he's never found in fighting before. He should be more alarmed, yet the fishman continues to look forward to the next round.
However, pleasure from violence doesn't leave him completely mindless. When the Chroma drain from his powers begins to touch his senses, Zed recalculates and turns his attention back to Avicebron when the latest golem falls. The trident unravels into a fine threads that launch towards the man. If the violent streak were to continue, they would be meant to cleave through metal and flesh. Instead, they act more as bindings or good enough distractions for Zed to close in, reaching out with the intent to draw Avicebron closer by his waist. Logic(?) tells him that he needs more Chroma to fight, but the idea of keeping him close is an added bonus.
The only downfall is that Zed acts first before communicating his intent.]
[ Avicebron isn't one to enjoy combat, but this is thrilling in its own way. He doesn't get many excuses or opportunities to rapidly prototype like this. Each time a golem falls, he eagerly summons another, each one slightly different and stronger than the last. It's certainly using up a lot of Chroma though, and fast. Maybe that's why he's starting to feel a little dizzy? Another golem crumbles back into dirt, and Avicebron prepares to summon another, but it takes him a moment to properly form a mental image.
And in that instant, Zed ... attacks him?!
It's awfully undignified, but Avicebron lets out a startled grunt as those threads snap around his arms. And really, all he can do is steel himself for the incoming impact. He has no real combat prowess, and as a Servant, he should be able to survive an attack or two. Hopefully.
He doesn't weigh that much, and his strength is pretty negligible. Which means one good tug at the threads is all it takes to yank him forward right into Zed's grasp. Avicebron whaps right into Zed's chest, reflexively grabbing at his arms as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on.
The immediate warmth of moonlacing tingling at his palms just adds to the confusion. ]
[The energy that rolls through him once Zed has the blond in his arms is both a perfect sensation and yet a terrible provocation for his moon-afflicted mind. Those webbed hands do more than just wander; the epitome of possessiveness, Zed grasps at Avicebron as if intending to feel out every detail. Each rib, each bump of vertebrae, every little inch of his torso that he can touch. If the mask wasn't in place, he'd probably attack his lips as well. Instead, Zed bows his head and his eyes narrow into slits as he savors the Chroma from each touch. The threads of blood move too, braver than his hands. Tendril-like, they split between searching for a way to invade underneath the mask or continue downwards, caressing at his pelvis.
It's a long minute to endure, but the fishman's brain finally kicks in and reminds him that this wasn't the original plan. The threads disappear in a blink, and Zed looks horrified at his behavior while he practically has to pry himself off of Avicebron. (There's a significant tinge of pink coloring his face too.)]
I-I'm so sorry! That-- I was thinking about Chroma levels, then...! [Then he ended up getting handsy with sensei. Not a great look.] Please forgive me!
[ He would have at least been marginally prepared for pain, but he sure wasn't ready to feel hands dragging down his back. Avicebron can't help giving a muffled yelp when he feels those tendrils winding around his throat and creeping under the hard shell of his body armor. It doesn't hurt, of course, but he's still on-edge from the fight, and the lingering tension amplifies the intense heat of moonlacing. It's a dizzying combination, and when Zed's fingers graze against the small of his back, he exhales hoarsely, audibly.
And of course, in that state, his knees buckle the instant Zed lets go of him. Avicebron stumbles back a step before simply sitting on the ground; he needs a moment to compose himself before shaking his head. ]
... no -- there's nothing to forgive. [ His words sure sound a little stilted! But also a bit breathless. ] You caught me by surprise. That is all. You can't be blamed for acting on the moon's effects.
[ A deep inhale and slow exhale. It's fine, this is fine. He just needs a moment to calm down. Avicebron averts his gaze, touching absently at his mask. ]
Desperate or not, you shouldn't resort to someone like me. If you've worked off your aggression, you should seek out someone more suitable.
[When Avicebron takes a seat, Zed doesn't take long to bring himself down on his hands and knees. It feels like the correct thing to do, yet his expectation to be berated (or clubbed over the head until loss of consciousness) isn't set in reality. So Zed simply looks lost.
This doesn't compute-- that last statement even more so. Avicebron's words light a flickering hope and a tightness in his chest. Zed's not so sure what to do with either case, but he echoes quietly, cautiously:]
"Someone more suitable"...? I don't understand. [His fingers curl into his palms until his claws cut. The feeling and smell of blood is oddly reassuring despite it being his own.]
[ Zed seems ... confused? Understandable, he supposes. The moons' effects are potent, and it must be difficult thinking straight when one's libido is being amplified so violently.
Avicebron nods, sitting up a little straighter. He deliberately keeps his tone of voice calm and level, just in case there's any lingering bloodlust that he needs to avoid setting off. ]
You're young and attractive. Earnest and good-natured. Most would be happy to have your company. Don't sell yourself short. [ He would have figured this much would be obvious, but maybe Zed just needs to hear it said out loud. Avicebron cants his head thoughtfully as he adds, ] ... mm, though if you're still feeling any aggression, it would be better to take it out on me. Despite how I seem, I'm more durable than most.
[What is he supposed to do with all that praise? Besides being flustered over it (which he does). Zed ultimately decides to mull it over later because he doesn't want to find someone else. But maybe it could be to his advantage too--]
...You speak highly of me, yet you're only willing to accept my aggression, huh? [Not that he feels the need to fight right now...Call it a moment of limited clarity? Or reprioritizing. The strings of blood that flow out from Zed's clenched hands reach for Avicebron again, the real target of his current affliction-affection. They advance like vines, curling around and embracing his body all the way up to his neck. It's unfortunate he can't feel through them too. They're only meant to embody Zed's selfish thoughts, clinging rather than constrictive of movement so far.]
[ He tenses slightly when those blood tendrils emerge once more, exhaling slowly as they begin to wind up his body. It's a strange sensation, being held by these threads, feeling them pull snug around his body without cutting in; the ones around his throat shift when he swallows hard, trying not to think about the pressure prickling against his limbs.
Not for the first time, he wonders why people here are so accepting. Perhaps his history would have been different, had he met such people in life -- ah, no, he shouldn't let his thoughts wander. Even if the coil of threads around his waist is making it hard to stay focused. ]
I can't pretend I'm not flattered by your ... attention. [ It's not like he can hide the slightly breathy quality to his voice, after all. Avicebron forces himself to meet Zed's gaze past the mask. ] But I wouldn't wish for you to do something you'll regret afterwards. The moon's effects are making you desperate. Making you willing to tolerate something you normally wouldn't.
[If Zed were his logical self, he would quickly disengage after Avicebron's reasoning and polite decline. Right now, however, Zed only grows annoyed and decides to reduce what little distance is between them. His legs bracket Avicebron's as he leans in, casting an overbearing shadow while he cups his face between webbed hands.]
I can't accept such a vague rejection. [His voice is low and firm. No more caution now.
The strings continue to move until they find more pliant material hiding underneath the body armor that they can weave themselves through. While it requires some concentration to manipulate his blood, the rest of Zed's senses are trained on the Servant's reaction as he gains access to skin that's been so carefully hidden. He maps out the man's body once more, even going further to slide between his legs and along his cock. Again, it's unfortunate that there's only limited tactile feedback.]
[ Maybe he'd underestimated Zed's moonblessing symptoms. Avicebron exhales slowly when Zed closes the distance between them, about to offer some calm rebuke, but what instead leaves his throat is a startled grunt, his entire body stiffening -- he certainly didn't expect to feel those threads needling through his clothes.
His reactions are immediate and pretty unsubtle. Even if his face is hidden behind the mask, the way he squirms and shifts his legs says plenty. Being touched liked this under his body armor is somehow far more intense than simply being unclothed, and it takes him a long moment just to find any words. ]
... very well. [ His words come out hoarse despite his best efforts, and Avicebron takes a shuddering breath before continuing. His hand touches gently against Zed's forearm. ] If you're sure this is what you want, I'll indulge you. I don't mind. But ... I'd ask that you cover your eyes. Is that acceptable?
[ That way, Zed will have a little less to regret once he's sober. Hopefully.
A thread coils around the metallic socket to his leg, tight against his hip and the inside of his thigh, and Avicebron flinches. His next breath escapes with a low groan as he tries to duck his head in Zed's grasp, fighting to ignore the heat rising at the pit of his stomach. ]
[It's captivating to watch Avicebron to react the way he wants, to feel control over the loss of composure in someone he respects. The powerful realization that feeds back into his moonblessing, and a smile forms briefly before being snuffed out by the condition laid out. He's not worried about the man disappearing-- it just seems unfair at first. Almost like a joke because it's literally impossible to close his eyes completely. Covering with his hands would be completely inadequate, let alone the fact that he doesn't want to give up touching the Servant.
So Zed remains quiet before nodding once he's found his solution after some thought: his retreat from Avicebron's face and moves to his own. He digs his claws into the sides of his head to form a rudimentary blindfold from the blood he draws. It's an absurd and slightly painful idea, but Zed's very obviously willing to fulfill the request...And that's setting aside the fact that he's unsure of why it's needed in the first place.]
Is this alright? [The strings' movement halt briefly as Zed's concentration reorganizes for his loss of sight. (Maybe something of a reprieve for Avicebron, if he's really set on recollecting himself.) On the other hand, Zed's antennae begin to twitch more actively to compensate.]
Ah -- [ He'd planned on tearing a strip of fabric off his cloak. But, well. This works, too. ] ... I didn't mean for you to hurt yourself. But it will do. Thank you.
[ It was a somewhat selfish request, after all, even if his main priority is preserving Zed's dignity. At least it puts him at ease to know that Zed is willing to acquiesce, even in his desperate state, and Avicebron loosens just a touch of the tension in his body. And without that tension, the taut pull of those threads feels all the more vivid.
Zed might feel the ground tremble slightly beneath him, accompanied by a faint rumbling noise all around him; Avicebron touches gently at his chest to keep him calm. ]
I'm erecting a wall around us. I doubt anyone will stumble upon this place, but just in case.
[ It's said calmly enough, but Avicebron clears his throat afterward, hand tracing carefully down Zed's chest. He really does have a good body, youthful and well-trained. The type of physique that comes with much training, well worth admiring. All the more reason Zed deserves someone his equal. But it's only him for now, so he asks quietly, ]
[Despite experiencing the earth being manipulated for the golems he had destroyed, Zed tenses momentarily before Avicebron's words clarify the situation. His touch initially pacifies the instinct to become battle-ready, but the drag of fingertips downwards sends an expectant thrill through him. It's disproportionate reaction to a small stimulus, yet Zed can't deny the way he arches slightly into the touch. Just because he's been so eager to embrace Avicebron, doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it himself.
The question catches him off-guard as well. His possessive mindset didn't actually assume for receiving attention beyond doling it out. He has to think on it. He mulls it over silently as his hands travel blindly, gliding up Avicebron's arms and neck until one has fingers curled into his hair while the other runs over the edges of the mask.]
Kiss me. Beyond that...anything you want.
[The strings, meanwhile, move less pointedly and switch to vague oscillating patterns of caressing. It's Zed's limit for now until he collects more data to establish a new spacial understanding-- sounds, vibrations, any sort of reaction from Avicebron that may clue him in on important points.]
[ If he's touching at the mask, Zed might feel the way Avicebron gives a small nod. There's the soft click of his gauntlet tips fidgeting with some mechanism, then the creak of a hinge moving. Avicebron moves carefully, bracing his hands against Zed's shoulders as he leans in, angling his head to keep the points of his mask from poking anything.
Then he kisses him.
It's a mediocre kiss at best, honestly. He's still clumsy with these things, and the tactile sensation isn't great -- his lips are dry and chafed, cracked and scarred at spots. But still, with the tingly heat of moonlacing infused in every movement, even that stilted kiss ends up feeling mind-numbingly good. Avicebron moves to pull back before changing his mind, pressing in for a second kiss; he's not sure he can ever get used to the addictive heat of moonlacing.
It's only a rhythmic squeeze from those threads that gets him to pull away, choking back a low groan. There's the brief prickle of gauntlet claws against Zed's shoulders before Avicebron manages to loosen the tension in his body; it's much harder keeping the hoarse edge out of his voice. ]
I'd like to satisfy you.
[ Not that he isn't also pursuing a little pleasure for himself, now that the situation is what it is. But Zed comes first. ]
[At least Avicebron has the chance to enjoy how absurdly soft Zed's skin is while they kiss. Zed's not the best kisser either with his limited experience, but he makes up for it with a greedy fervor that comes after the test of the first kiss. It's almost like a flipped switch, and what might be seen as disadvantages don't really matter when Zed's so easily pleased by the slick heat of Avicebron's mouth and tongue as well as the spike of energy that comes with the contact. He doesn't have to think too much about it, which is a nice point too.
So the fishman lets out a small, frustrated noise when the kiss is broken completely this time. Not that he has much to complain about when the breathy quality of Avicebron's voice sounds so tantalizing, amplified all the more by relying on his sense of hearing. His words make Zed swallow hard, and if he wasn't aroused before, he certainly is now.]
I-- ['I would like that'. Another swallow. Zed has to remind himself he has a brain and can use words:] Yes, though...I'm a bit different. From humans.
[It's only been frottage for his experience so far; simple, easy, don't need to make things complicated with certain differences. But this deep into his moonblessing, combined with Avicebron's statement, makes him want to throw his caution out the window. At least he can give Avicebron a heads-up...not that he gets very far with blindly trying to fumble with his own belt.]
[ Zed's skin is soft and oddly cool to touch, and it's terribly enticing. Avicebron's mask is enhanced with magic, but it still does get stuffy inside, especially when he's worked up; the contrast between cool skin and the hot tingle of moonlacing is incredibly soothing, especially against his scars. Even after breaking off that kiss, part of him wants to simply resume it.
It's only Zed's stilted clarification that makes him pause. ]
... hm. I see. [ Of course, Zed is a chimera. It makes sense that the physical differences would include genitalia. Does he feel pleasure any differently? It's an additional challenge he didn't anticipate, and Avicebron makes a quiet noise in thought before nodding. ] I'll do my best.
[ He doesn't really mind, in other words. The only question is if he can still manage to satisfy Zed. The blindfold probably helps enhance any physical sensations for him, so there's at least that handicap, but it does hinder Zed's movements somewhat. So after a moment of watching that fumbling, Avicebron reaches down to help him. His own movements are careful to avoid prickling at anything with his gauntlets, and he has to stop whenever those threads tighten around his body; one particular tug of the strings around his throat earns a shivering flinch, and Zed might feel a breath glossing hot against his collarbone. ]
[With their combined effort and Zed's extra courage thanks to his loss of sight, his pants and swim-shorts are eventually shoved down to his knees. It wouldn't be wrong for a question of biological sex to come up first-- there's a bulging mound with a vertical slit where his genitals should be. Everything about Avicebron that he can sense intensifies his arousal to the point where a thin tip slides out into view, the pink standing out in stark contrast with the rest of his skin. Zed's really just finding out what it's like to be both embarrassed yet turned on, and his cheeks are slowly beginning the pink shade below.
Part of him wants tell Avicebron he doesn't have to force himself, yet the proper words won't come out. Instead, he ends up mumbling:] Sorry. It needs a little bit...
[Zed moves his hand downward to begin coaxing himself out by massaging the bulge with his fingertips, careful with his own claws. The threads around Avicebron begin to mimic Zed's new focus as well, their movement mainly concentrated on the man's lower half. His own arousal takes some gradual unsheathing, revealing a tapered shape that's covered with the sheen of a clear fluid. Zed's shoulders tense and round in on himself as he ducks his head. He's wary of what sort of reaction he'll receive, but he's already gone this far that he can't easily turn back.]
[ To be honest, it's fascinating to watch. It's an utterly foreign sight, the way Zed's length slowly emerges from the slit, flushed, slick with fluid and clearly stiff with arousal. Avicebron exhales hoarsely, starting to reach forward to touch him, but stops at the last moment. ]
If you'd wait for just a moment. I don't want to hurt you. [ There's the quiet click of metal as he fidgets with his gauntlets, folding back the pointed tips. But it only takes a glance at Zed's face to see that he should hurry; no doubt it's a tense and nerve-wracking situation for Zed to be in, blindfolded and exposed. It thankfully only takes a few moments before Avicebron speaks up again, quiet and calm. ] I'm going to touch you.
[ Avicebron's touch is gentle when he brings his fingers to Zed's cock, wrapping around carefully and dragging slowly down. Without his gauntlet points, his hand is only covered in a thin layer of fabric, a little lacking in wamrth but smooth and deft. He eases his hand all the way down to the base, squeezing gently, then slides his palm back upwards, carefully watching Zed's expression the whole time. ]
I hope this feels pleasurable for you.
[ His words taper off with a hoarse sigh, his grip suddenly jerking downwards when he feels those threads pull taut against his skin. He inadvertently ends up bracing his other hand against Zed's leg to maintain his balance as his spine curls, his skin feeling hotter with each shift of those strings. Even if his noises of arousal are quiet, muffled between shallow breaths, the slight jerkiness to his movements probably says plenty. ]
[It's a small torment to sense Avicebron moving and then stop short, although the anticipation of being touched at all scrambles his mind. So when he's finally grasped and given the friction he desperately wants, Zed can't help the low, guttural sound that slips away from him as his hips roll up automatically.]
Yes-- yes...! [Words are hard to conjure up when he's so fully engrossed in both Avicebron's touch and the noises he's making. It doesn't matter that the strokes aren't regular since the length of him slides easily along, and obviously Zed's still enjoying the attention. For him, reality's narrowed down to just the two of them, and his possessive affliction is absolutely fine with that. In fact, the hand on his leg spurs Zed to reach for Avicebron, dragging him closer to seat him on top of his thighs. (He'd prefer to situate him fully on his lap, but he's also not willing to get in the way of the hand working on him.)
The space between them was completely unnecessary, and Zed's hands are back to exploring once he's done tugging the blond into place. They quickly travel down Avicebron's spine until he's fully grabbing his ass to stabilize him...but also because he just wants to. If he was more clearheaded, Zed would be more careful with his claws. Now is not the case. He kneads intently while the strings begin to consolidate, forming thicker bands that wrap fully around Avicebron's arousal, stroking him more fully in return. There is some merit in holding onto the Servant since Zed's hips continue to twitch now and then, but that slight jostling only adds some friction into the frantic movement.]
[ It's a little startling suddenly being hefted onto Zed's lap. Doubly so when he feels hands shoving under his body armor, fingers dragging against his ass. Avicebron can't help giving a low yelp at the sudden movement, stabilizing himself by gripping at Zed's shoulder with his free hand.
Still, this intimate position isn't bad at all. It takes him a moment to resume the movements of his hand, but once he does, it feels so much more intense. At this proximity he can see the way Zed's stomach clenches, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the muscles in his body straining from the rising pleasure. After a few moments he manages to find a steadier pace, and watches Zed's reactions closely as he pumps his hand.
The only thing that manages to disrupt his focus is when he feel those threads of blood weave together around his cock, forming a ring of tight pressure; he barely gets a moment to steel himself before it rolls rapidly downward, and Avicebron shudders as electricity tingles all the way up his spine. The stimulation's strong enough that he almost doesn't notice when Zed's claws managed to snag at the fabric he wears under the body armor, starting to tear it open.
The skin beneath is speckled with scars, little grooves and bumps that criss-cross beneath Zed's fingertips. Without the fabric in the way, each knead of Zed's hands feels all the more intense, and Avicebron bites at his lip to remind himself -- his focus is Zed's pleasure, first and foremost. Even if each pulse of those blood threads is starting to make him tense, his breaths coming in shallower huffs as he ups the pace of his hand. ]
[Behind the red blindfold, Zed's eyes are narrowed into slits as he tries not to completely lose it from the pleasure he feels from Avicebron's work. He alternates between gritting his teeth to slack-jawed, and there's no stopping the quiet, gratified moans each stroke elicits. A gratuitous amount of precum beads at the tip as Zed rocks his hips into the Servant's hand, greedy for more.
There's so much he has to pay attention to, and everything is all the more intensified as he relies on his other senses to inform him. The smell of sweat that he picks up is dizzying, and Avicebron's uneven breaths paint an appealing picture in Zed's mind. The only thing that doesn't quite fit his expectations is the marred skin he can feel against his palms. But there's so much else going on that he ultimately discards the observation for everything else more exciting.
The sudden uptake in pace pushes him a little too far to the edge, however, and Zed finds himself uncertain whether he should be cursing his lack of experience.]
Nngh...Caster. I-it feels too good. I want to... [Zed trails off with his rasping as his head dips forward to seek out Avicebron's lips as best he can. He's so close to the end, but he still has a second to be distracted.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[The location Zed sends after some time is a more secluded clearing within Level 2's groves. Zed sits in a meditative posture and he looks otherwise serene until Avicebron arrives. As if flipping a switch, his whole body tenses as he looks up with a jerk of his head, like a predator spying a new target. A few tense seconds pass, and Zed forces an exhale while reigning himself in. He stands then, giving a bow to Avicebron:]
I owe you a debt, Caster.
no subject
Mm. Worry about that later.
[ Avicebron waves aside Zed's polite greeting, instead getting straight to work. He's brought along some pre-made golem cores, and kneels to the ground, pressing one into the dirt. Within moments, a golem made of dirt and rock emerges from the ground; Avicebron snaps his fingers, and it slowly lumbers towards Zed, eyes glowing dimly. ]
It will fight defensively, and I can create more if necessary. You've no need to hold back.
[ On a more selfish note, this is a good chance to observe Zed's abilities. A little side benefit to helping Zed out. A normal human would never stand a chance against his golems, but ... well, he'll have to see what Zed's capable of. ]
no subject
[...Makes sense why Caster calls himself such. Zed's more used to fighting trash golems than he cares to admit, but he has to wonder how strong an earthen one could turn out. He doesn't doubt that its durability is increased by magic. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a good opponent to beat on.
Zed summons forth a blood trident as the golem approaches. But rather than a smooth, instantaneous morphing, the blood comes out his hand as writhing tendrils that he forces into form. It feels good to have it out instead of suppressing the urge. And while sight and feel of his own blood does a bit to fulfill a some need in him, it doesn't ease him completely. Plus, there's a nice ring to hearing that he doesn't need to hold back.
His work with the trident is lightning quick as he lashes out at the golem's limbs, slices that would even cut steel cleanly. Then one hop away for distance, and Zed pulls his arm back to javelin his weapon at the golem's face, aiming for right between those glowing eyes. The moment the trident leaves his fingers, a burst of air explodes from it, propelling it faster and with more force to pierce.]
no subject
Impressive.
[ A low murmur under his breath as Avicebron immediately touches the ground once more, summoning another one -- this time with a longer incantation, the ground around him glowing before a golem strides forth. This one's darker in color, parts of it reinforced with twists of tree root.
He'd had a hunch that Zed's abilities would be far beyond that of a normal human, but this is even greater than what he expected. Of course, his own golems are greatly hampered by the cost of mana usage and the poor materials here, but he's still determined to rise to the challenge.
He'll just keep making better, longer-lasting ones until he finally finds one that will wear Zed out. ]
100 years later, also feel free to drop
However, pleasure from violence doesn't leave him completely mindless. When the Chroma drain from his powers begins to touch his senses, Zed recalculates and turns his attention back to Avicebron when the latest golem falls. The trident unravels into a fine threads that launch towards the man. If the violent streak were to continue, they would be meant to cleave through metal and flesh. Instead, they act more as bindings or good enough distractions for Zed to close in, reaching out with the intent to draw Avicebron closer by his waist. Logic(?) tells him that he needs more Chroma to fight, but the idea of keeping him close is an added bonus.
The only downfall is that Zed acts first before communicating his intent.]
no worries, you're good!
And in that instant, Zed ... attacks him?!
It's awfully undignified, but Avicebron lets out a startled grunt as those threads snap around his arms. And really, all he can do is steel himself for the incoming impact. He has no real combat prowess, and as a Servant, he should be able to survive an attack or two. Hopefully.
He doesn't weigh that much, and his strength is pretty negligible. Which means one good tug at the threads is all it takes to yank him forward right into Zed's grasp. Avicebron whaps right into Zed's chest, reflexively grabbing at his arms as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on.
The immediate warmth of moonlacing tingling at his palms just adds to the confusion. ]
no subject
It's a long minute to endure, but the fishman's brain finally kicks in and reminds him that this wasn't the original plan. The threads disappear in a blink, and Zed looks horrified at his behavior while he practically has to pry himself off of Avicebron. (There's a significant tinge of pink coloring his face too.)]
I-I'm so sorry! That-- I was thinking about Chroma levels, then...! [Then he ended up getting handsy with sensei. Not a great look.] Please forgive me!
no subject
And of course, in that state, his knees buckle the instant Zed lets go of him. Avicebron stumbles back a step before simply sitting on the ground; he needs a moment to compose himself before shaking his head. ]
... no -- there's nothing to forgive. [ His words sure sound a little stilted! But also a bit breathless. ] You caught me by surprise. That is all. You can't be blamed for acting on the moon's effects.
[ A deep inhale and slow exhale. It's fine, this is fine. He just needs a moment to calm down. Avicebron averts his gaze, touching absently at his mask. ]
Desperate or not, you shouldn't resort to someone like me. If you've worked off your aggression, you should seek out someone more suitable.
no subject
This doesn't compute-- that last statement even more so. Avicebron's words light a flickering hope and a tightness in his chest. Zed's not so sure what to do with either case, but he echoes quietly, cautiously:]
"Someone more suitable"...? I don't understand. [His fingers curl into his palms until his claws cut. The feeling and smell of blood is oddly reassuring despite it being his own.]
no subject
Avicebron nods, sitting up a little straighter. He deliberately keeps his tone of voice calm and level, just in case there's any lingering bloodlust that he needs to avoid setting off. ]
You're young and attractive. Earnest and good-natured. Most would be happy to have your company. Don't sell yourself short. [ He would have figured this much would be obvious, but maybe Zed just needs to hear it said out loud. Avicebron cants his head thoughtfully as he adds, ] ... mm, though if you're still feeling any aggression, it would be better to take it out on me. Despite how I seem, I'm more durable than most.
no subject
...You speak highly of me, yet you're only willing to accept my aggression, huh? [Not that he feels the need to fight right now...Call it a moment of limited clarity? Or reprioritizing. The strings of blood that flow out from Zed's clenched hands reach for Avicebron again, the real target of his current affliction-affection. They advance like vines, curling around and embracing his body all the way up to his neck. It's unfortunate he can't feel through them too. They're only meant to embody Zed's selfish thoughts, clinging rather than constrictive of movement
so far.]I find you suitable, Caster.
no subject
Not for the first time, he wonders why people here are so accepting. Perhaps his history would have been different, had he met such people in life -- ah, no, he shouldn't let his thoughts wander. Even if the coil of threads around his waist is making it hard to stay focused. ]
I can't pretend I'm not flattered by your ... attention. [ It's not like he can hide the slightly breathy quality to his voice, after all. Avicebron forces himself to meet Zed's gaze past the mask. ] But I wouldn't wish for you to do something you'll regret afterwards. The moon's effects are making you desperate. Making you willing to tolerate something you normally wouldn't.
no subject
I can't accept such a vague rejection. [His voice is low and firm. No more caution now.
The strings continue to move until they find more pliant material hiding underneath the body armor that they can weave themselves through. While it requires some concentration to manipulate his blood, the rest of Zed's senses are trained on the Servant's reaction as he gains access to skin that's been so carefully hidden. He maps out the man's body once more, even going further to slide between his legs and along his cock. Again, it's unfortunate that there's only limited tactile feedback.]
I can't let you go now that I have you.
no subject
His reactions are immediate and pretty unsubtle. Even if his face is hidden behind the mask, the way he squirms and shifts his legs says plenty. Being touched liked this under his body armor is somehow far more intense than simply being unclothed, and it takes him a long moment just to find any words. ]
... very well. [ His words come out hoarse despite his best efforts, and Avicebron takes a shuddering breath before continuing. His hand touches gently against Zed's forearm. ] If you're sure this is what you want, I'll indulge you. I don't mind. But ... I'd ask that you cover your eyes. Is that acceptable?
[ That way, Zed will have a little less to regret once he's sober. Hopefully.
A thread coils around the metallic socket to his leg, tight against his hip and the inside of his thigh, and Avicebron flinches. His next breath escapes with a low groan as he tries to duck his head in Zed's grasp, fighting to ignore the heat rising at the pit of his stomach. ]
no subject
So Zed remains quiet before nodding once he's found his solution after some thought: his retreat from Avicebron's face and moves to his own. He digs his claws into the sides of his head to form a rudimentary blindfold from the blood he draws. It's an absurd and slightly painful idea, but Zed's very obviously willing to fulfill the request...And that's setting aside the fact that he's unsure of why it's needed in the first place.]
Is this alright? [The strings' movement halt briefly as Zed's concentration reorganizes for his loss of sight. (Maybe something of a reprieve for Avicebron, if he's really set on recollecting himself.) On the other hand, Zed's antennae begin to twitch more actively to compensate.]
no subject
[ It was a somewhat selfish request, after all, even if his main priority is preserving Zed's dignity. At least it puts him at ease to know that Zed is willing to acquiesce, even in his desperate state, and Avicebron loosens just a touch of the tension in his body. And without that tension, the taut pull of those threads feels all the more vivid.
Zed might feel the ground tremble slightly beneath him, accompanied by a faint rumbling noise all around him; Avicebron touches gently at his chest to keep him calm. ]
I'm erecting a wall around us. I doubt anyone will stumble upon this place, but just in case.
[ It's said calmly enough, but Avicebron clears his throat afterward, hand tracing carefully down Zed's chest. He really does have a good body, youthful and well-trained. The type of physique that comes with much training, well worth admiring. All the more reason Zed deserves someone his equal. But it's only him for now, so he asks quietly, ]
Zed. What would you like me to do for you?
no subject
The question catches him off-guard as well. His possessive mindset didn't actually assume for receiving attention beyond doling it out. He has to think on it. He mulls it over silently as his hands travel blindly, gliding up Avicebron's arms and neck until one has fingers curled into his hair while the other runs over the edges of the mask.]
Kiss me. Beyond that...anything you want.
[The strings, meanwhile, move less pointedly and switch to vague oscillating patterns of caressing. It's Zed's limit for now until he collects more data to establish a new spacial understanding-- sounds, vibrations, any sort of reaction from Avicebron that may clue him in on important points.]
no subject
Then he kisses him.
It's a mediocre kiss at best, honestly. He's still clumsy with these things, and the tactile sensation isn't great -- his lips are dry and chafed, cracked and scarred at spots. But still, with the tingly heat of moonlacing infused in every movement, even that stilted kiss ends up feeling mind-numbingly good. Avicebron moves to pull back before changing his mind, pressing in for a second kiss; he's not sure he can ever get used to the addictive heat of moonlacing.
It's only a rhythmic squeeze from those threads that gets him to pull away, choking back a low groan. There's the brief prickle of gauntlet claws against Zed's shoulders before Avicebron manages to loosen the tension in his body; it's much harder keeping the hoarse edge out of his voice. ]
I'd like to satisfy you.
[ Not that he isn't also pursuing a little pleasure for himself, now that the situation is what it is. But Zed comes first. ]
no subject
So the fishman lets out a small, frustrated noise when the kiss is broken completely this time. Not that he has much to complain about when the breathy quality of Avicebron's voice sounds so tantalizing, amplified all the more by relying on his sense of hearing. His words make Zed swallow hard, and if he wasn't aroused before, he certainly is now.]
I-- ['I would like that'. Another swallow. Zed has to remind himself he has a brain and can use words:] Yes, though...I'm a bit different. From humans.
[It's only been frottage for his experience so far; simple, easy, don't need to make things complicated with certain differences. But this deep into his moonblessing, combined with Avicebron's statement, makes him want to throw his caution out the window. At least he can give Avicebron a heads-up...not that he gets very far with blindly trying to fumble with his own belt.]
no subject
It's only Zed's stilted clarification that makes him pause. ]
... hm. I see. [ Of course, Zed is a chimera. It makes sense that the physical differences would include genitalia. Does he feel pleasure any differently? It's an additional challenge he didn't anticipate, and Avicebron makes a quiet noise in thought before nodding. ] I'll do my best.
[ He doesn't really mind, in other words. The only question is if he can still manage to satisfy Zed. The blindfold probably helps enhance any physical sensations for him, so there's at least that handicap, but it does hinder Zed's movements somewhat. So after a moment of watching that fumbling, Avicebron reaches down to help him. His own movements are careful to avoid prickling at anything with his gauntlets, and he has to stop whenever those threads tighten around his body; one particular tug of the strings around his throat earns a shivering flinch, and Zed might feel a breath glossing hot against his collarbone. ]
no subject
Part of him wants tell Avicebron he doesn't have to force himself, yet the proper words won't come out. Instead, he ends up mumbling:] Sorry. It needs a little bit...
[Zed moves his hand downward to begin coaxing himself out by massaging the bulge with his fingertips, careful with his own claws. The threads around Avicebron begin to mimic Zed's new focus as well, their movement mainly concentrated on the man's lower half. His own arousal takes some gradual unsheathing, revealing a tapered shape that's covered with the sheen of a clear fluid. Zed's shoulders tense and round in on himself as he ducks his head. He's wary of what sort of reaction he'll receive, but he's already gone this far that he can't easily turn back.]
no subject
If you'd wait for just a moment. I don't want to hurt you. [ There's the quiet click of metal as he fidgets with his gauntlets, folding back the pointed tips. But it only takes a glance at Zed's face to see that he should hurry; no doubt it's a tense and nerve-wracking situation for Zed to be in, blindfolded and exposed. It thankfully only takes a few moments before Avicebron speaks up again, quiet and calm. ] I'm going to touch you.
[ Avicebron's touch is gentle when he brings his fingers to Zed's cock, wrapping around carefully and dragging slowly down. Without his gauntlet points, his hand is only covered in a thin layer of fabric, a little lacking in wamrth but smooth and deft. He eases his hand all the way down to the base, squeezing gently, then slides his palm back upwards, carefully watching Zed's expression the whole time. ]
I hope this feels pleasurable for you.
[ His words taper off with a hoarse sigh, his grip suddenly jerking downwards when he feels those threads pull taut against his skin. He inadvertently ends up bracing his other hand against Zed's leg to maintain his balance as his spine curls, his skin feeling hotter with each shift of those strings. Even if his noises of arousal are quiet, muffled between shallow breaths, the slight jerkiness to his movements probably says plenty. ]
no subject
Yes-- yes...! [Words are hard to conjure up when he's so fully engrossed in both Avicebron's touch and the noises he's making. It doesn't matter that the strokes aren't regular since the length of him slides easily along, and obviously Zed's still enjoying the attention. For him, reality's narrowed down to just the two of them, and his possessive affliction is absolutely fine with that. In fact, the hand on his leg spurs Zed to reach for Avicebron, dragging him closer to seat him on top of his thighs. (He'd prefer to situate him fully on his lap, but he's also not willing to get in the way of the hand working on him.)
The space between them was completely unnecessary, and Zed's hands are back to exploring once he's done tugging the blond into place. They quickly travel down Avicebron's spine until he's fully grabbing his ass to stabilize him...but also because he just wants to. If he was more clearheaded, Zed would be more careful with his claws. Now is not the case. He kneads intently while the strings begin to consolidate, forming thicker bands that wrap fully around Avicebron's arousal, stroking him more fully in return. There is some merit in holding onto the Servant since Zed's hips continue to twitch now and then, but that slight jostling only adds some friction into the frantic movement.]
no subject
Still, this intimate position isn't bad at all. It takes him a moment to resume the movements of his hand, but once he does, it feels so much more intense. At this proximity he can see the way Zed's stomach clenches, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the muscles in his body straining from the rising pleasure. After a few moments he manages to find a steadier pace, and watches Zed's reactions closely as he pumps his hand.
The only thing that manages to disrupt his focus is when he feel those threads of blood weave together around his cock, forming a ring of tight pressure; he barely gets a moment to steel himself before it rolls rapidly downward, and Avicebron shudders as electricity tingles all the way up his spine. The stimulation's strong enough that he almost doesn't notice when Zed's claws managed to snag at the fabric he wears under the body armor, starting to tear it open.
The skin beneath is speckled with scars, little grooves and bumps that criss-cross beneath Zed's fingertips. Without the fabric in the way, each knead of Zed's hands feels all the more intense, and Avicebron bites at his lip to remind himself -- his focus is Zed's pleasure, first and foremost. Even if each pulse of those blood threads is starting to make him tense, his breaths coming in shallower huffs as he ups the pace of his hand. ]
no subject
There's so much he has to pay attention to, and everything is all the more intensified as he relies on his other senses to inform him. The smell of sweat that he picks up is dizzying, and Avicebron's uneven breaths paint an appealing picture in Zed's mind. The only thing that doesn't quite fit his expectations is the marred skin he can feel against his palms. But there's so much else going on that he ultimately discards the observation for everything else more exciting.
The sudden uptake in pace pushes him a little too far to the edge, however, and Zed finds himself uncertain whether he should be cursing his lack of experience.]
Nngh...Caster. I-it feels too good. I want to... [Zed trails off with his rasping as his head dips forward to seek out Avicebron's lips as best he can. He's so close to the end, but he still has a second to be distracted.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)