☆ Event: Fright Night

[moustre]

Event Log: October, Fright Night

I. The Mist It starts in the middle of the night. As the bells chime for 3 am, a slow fog creeps across the city from all four cardinal directions, swirling low to the ground, shining purplish in the light of the twin moons. It goes without notice for a while, an oddity, easily brushed off as too much rain and the changing temperatures turning it to mist over the cobblestones. The first ones to get caught up in it are the night workers, the drunks leaving the bars, the sailors returning to their ships, anyone out on the streets when it begins. In most cases, the effects are not instantaneous - it takes a little time to sink in before… a. The Transformations Even if you don’t find yourself out on the streets in the middle of the night, the mist creeps its way into buildings through cracks and openings, until exposure is almost guaranteed for everyone in Aefenglom, and even some just outside the Bright Wall in the Outer City. Though a lucky few, Mirrorbound and citizens alike, will find themselves wholly unaffected by the substance and will retain their physical forms and their own right minds, many more find themselves bent to its whims, changing in ways that could never have been predicted. There is little rhyme or reason to what changes occur or how - some simply wake with new parts, uncomfortable, while others run from their homes, panicking as wings tear painfully out of their backs or claws burst forth from their hands. The mist does not discriminate. Humans and Witches find themselves gaining the parts of Monsters, or even creatures that live outside the Wall. Monsters gain parts that don’t match up to their species - Arachne with wings or gills, Turnskin with antlers and Merrow tails, Puca with the teeth and claws of predators or the horns of unicorns or the scales of lizards, such strange sights become more and more common as morning approaches slowly. Mirrorbound may find that they can even gain the features and mannerisms of creatures from their home worlds. It all seems to happen wholly at random. These parts may not even last; plenty of citizens lose their new additions after just hours, only to gain new ones in the meanwhile. In the dark, wee hours of the morning, the city erupts into chaos. b. Widespread Chaos There’s no chance of peace tonight. Some may be lucky enough to escape the mists or its effects somehow, but the vast majority of the city hasn’t -- and it’s telling, from the sounds of people in the streets, that no one’s particularly happy about the turn of events. Many are in pain, many are blind with panic and upset. How could this happen? What’s going on? Many of the shouts attribute blame to the Coven allowing the practice of at-times experimental magics, while others turn it into anti-Monster sentiment, claiming the Monster population wants them all to suffer the way they do. Other tinfoil-hat-ists spread their conspiracy theories loudly, laying the blame squarely on Dorchacht - retribution for the Monsters the Mirrorbound stole from their city. This is an attack, they shout! The actual truth remains to be seen, however. There are plenty who don’t care about the truth and pay little attention to the rumors. They’re opportunists at heart, and a city in chaos is good for lining pockets. Some less-affected and less-moral citizens take to the streets of the Shopping and Aristocratic districts, throwing rocks through windows, banging down doors, looting shops and the houses of the wealthy of whatever valuables they can carry with them. Even a gang of kids from one of the orphanages in the Harbor District, sporting their own mismatched new features, can be spotted roaming the city, looting stores and homes, stealing from people incapacitated in the streets. They can’t pass up an opportunity when they have so little to begin with. c. State of Emergency Parliament, in contact with the Coven, is quick to declare a state of emergency in Aefenglom. A magical announcement rings out all through the city, loud and impossible to miss. Those who can keep it together are called upon to help find some sort of order before things devolve too badly and more damage is done than can be fixed. People will get hurt if things continue like this, they could even be looking at casualties. Those who have learned healing magic are asked to report to makeshift first aid stations scattered around the city to help those dealing with more violent, bloody transformations. Anyone with prior law enforcement experience are tasked with helping contain and stop the looting and the muggings. More still are called to try and figure out some way to get rid of the mist, or reverse its effects. None of the assignments are mandatory, plenty are unable to assist as they deal with their own afflictions, but any help is greatly appreciated.

II. Damage Control The chaos of the first night dies down somewhat by noon the next day. The air of forgiveness and cleaning up for the new year that was present at the beginning of the month is gone as the violet mist still spreads, wreaking havoc with the citizens of Aefenglom. Human citizens take it worse than the Monster half of the city, but one of the side-effects hits the Monster community harder. It quickly becomes apparent that the effects of this never-before-seen magic are not only physical. Fights break out over anything from minor slights to things worth fighting about, blossoming from a few thrown punches to all-out brawls that spill into the streets. Anger and agitation increase in most affected citizens, and you can cut the tension in the air with a knife. Relief efforts have to be redirected. Some can keep it together just enough to go about their daily lives as best they can with their new ‘additions’, but others rapidly start to lose their minds in ferality, even those with strong Witch-Monster Bonds. Miss Nessie is quick to whip the Coven into action to help preserve the peace as much as possible. There isn’t enough room to contain so many feral citizens, but they try to make do. All available Mirrorbound, Witch and Monster, who are able and want to help contain the people of Aefenglom or each other are taught a simple knock-out spell, or given slips of paper enchanted with the same, to literally knock some sense into the ferals. It won’t hurt them in the long term, but it will give them a time-out and help pull their minds out of their pits of animal instinct. Plenty of citizens will be thankful for this. That doesn’t mean everyone is happy to see the Mirrorbound around town. They may notice that they get more scowls while they’re out and about, more whispers and dirty looks. They come from humans the most, but especially the wealthier people of the city, dealing with their own share of terrible transformations, who mutter under their breaths words like, “Knew they would bring trouble with them. Knew it right from the start.” Known Mirrorbound may find themselves being kicked out of higher class shops in the Shopping District, or even spit on in the streets. Poorer citizens, especially Monsters, see things differently, however: they’ve seen the refugees from Dorchacht, they know what was done for some of their kind. They’ll admit that the Mirrorbound have brought trouble with them, but a little trouble isn’t always a bad thing - sometimes you’ve got to shake things up and disturb the status quo. Though they’re dealing with bizarre changes and an increased risk of going feral, they have faith that the Mirrorbound will help solve this problem. Of course, this difference in opinion just means both sides argue louder and fight harder.

III. The Refugees For those who’d found themselves rehomed, mostly Monsters and what few Witches came with, this is not what they had expected from a “full moon”. They’d been warned that certain urges would be stronger, that magic could wax and wane like the moons themselves, but this? This rampant disorder, the odd turning present in so many citizens and Mirrorbound alike, the Coven and Parliament’s bid on attempting some sort of damage control--? Is this what they left Dorchacht for, from one far too controlling city to one that didn’t seem to have any control at all? They aren’t in chains, at least. They can choose their Bonds if they’d like one. But it’s put them on edge enough that some linger by the docks, both wanting to leave to someplace “safe” in their eyes and wishing to stay. The latter wins out in most cases, seeking to help the Mirrorbound as they were helped themselves, though they may be suffering from the mists themselves... oddly, they seem to be more aware of themselves in a way that the natives are not, likely learned behavior leftover from Dorchacht to keep themselves in check; the compulsion spell had only helped compulsion, after all, there’d been a genuine want to remain secure and safe in their minds even with the situation as it was. Unfortunately, there’s plenty of locals who see the refugees as part of the problem -- before the Mirrorbound, before Dorchacht, Aefenglom had been fine, and in continuing these thoughts, they’re not... the friendliest to outsiders. Some are more likely to retaliate violently with new-found additions to their physiology and skillset when the refugees attempt to help, with whispers, conspiracy theories, and nasty rumors all the while spreading at a rapid pace. As bad as Dorchacht had been, maybe they had a point about the strange, suggestive magic used across the city. Maybe it’s something Aefenglom should look into too, during the fuller moons, should this be the beginning of something worse as the new year rises at the end of the month. But hopefully -- and this is the hope of all -- it simply remains a one-off, freak happening at the end of the year, and they pray the new one fares better.

IV. The Aftermath Thanks to quite a bit of Mirrorbound assistance, the city is still largely in one piece by the end of the day after the full moons. The mist, an unstable alchemical compound, eventually breaks down into nothing after a day or so, and the effects all fade or reverse, leaving everyone in their normal bodies and feeling clear-headed as the moons start to wane again. There are issues of property damage, stolen goods, and political discord to deal with, but the hardest to handle is perhaps the guilt of those who went feral and attacked their friends and loved ones. Samuin preparations continue with an unusual gloom hung over the city as clean-up and reparations commence. While before, though, humans and Monsters could often be found on the bridge over the River Temese, making amends with one another, the activity almost entirely ceases, leaving the bridge empty most days from now until Samuin.

Welcome to October's event log! This event takes place ICly on the 12th, 13th, and 14th. The Questions thread can be found HERE! Please help us and other players out by putting the subject(s) of your questions in your header! Investigation briefs will be going out soon on the OOC Sign Ups thread to the teams who were chosen by RNG, so keep an eye out for that. And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere.

Comments

[tryhard]

[ That's exciting. The blood, the way Berserker snaps back, it gets Waver's blood pumping-- right down between his legs.

He growls, grinding harder against Berserker's belly and bearing down his weight on top of him as he kisses harder with teeth and tongue. The taste of blood is electrifying.

Waver licks it out of Berserker's mouth, tongue worrying the cut on his lip to make it bleed more.

His hands, meanwhile, reach down to Berserker's wrists. Claws digging in, Waver grabs him and tries to pull Berserker's hands off his thighs with the intent to pin them up next to his head while he keeps grinding on him. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ This really is not a side of Waver he ever expected to see. It's...thrilling in its own way. It sends a spark of excitement through him, brief as it may be. While Berserker could easily fight him off and stop him from pinning him down, he lets him do it. Normally, he prefers to have more control than this -- letting go of that makes it more interesting. The way his mindset is right now, he wants the most stimulating option.

The blood in their kiss and the way Waver forces his lip to bleed more drives him wild. He growls as he meets the turnskin's fervor, returning his kiss with reckless abandon. If he thought about this for two seconds, rutting in an alleyway like animals would be embarrassing. He's too feral and too suddenly horny to care now. ]

[tryhard]

[ It's probably a good thing Berserker happened to lead them more out of the way. With the darkness, the location, and the fact everyone else is rather busy with the chaos the mist is causing in general, they're probably not going to be spotted. Hopefully, anyway (at least for Waver's sanity, if he remembers this later).

Right now, Waver has completely forgotten where they are.

He presses his weight onto Berserker's pinned wrists, claws grazing skin with how tight his grip is, and snarls. As the violence in Berserker's kisses ramps up, so does his: teeth snapping, claws purposefully digging in, all of his slight weight brought to bear on top of Berserker's body as he drags his hips downward. Their size difference means it's difficult for him to keep hold of Berserker's wrists comfortably and reach his cock at the same time, but Waver presses back, grinding his ass against the bulge in Berseker's trousers and arching like a cat on top of him, stretching out.

When he has to break the kiss, he goes for Berserker's throat instead. It bleeds just as nicely as his lips, or better. His fangs sink into the muscle between neck and shoulder, a slow, pointed bite, jaws squeezing until he feels the skin break. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ If they are spotted, with the noise they're making and how bloody they are already, it's unlikely anyone will break them up for fear of their own safety.

To help with the size difference, Berserker lifts his hips and arcs them towards Waver's insistent affections. He's just as worked up as Waver is, eager to get any kind of sensation that he can. The bites on his throat only work him up more, growling louder. The bite against the crook of his neck turns that growl into something more guttural, a sharp, harsh sound bordering on a yelp. Despite the noise, he exposes more of his neck to these painful affections. All he can do is writhe underneath this aggressive assault, wanting more of whatever Waver's willing to give him. ]

CW: nsfw, blood, violence

[tryhard]

[ Berserker arches and exposes his throat, and his clear submission is a fresh jolt of heat and excitement for Waver. He lifts his head just enough that his teeth pull free, letting the wound bleed freely. Though he's not a vampire (probably?), the scent draws him, and the taste makes his heart race. Mouth clamping over the ragged bite, Waver licks and sicks the mark, instinctively making sure it'll last.

He marks Berserker with his scent too, arching against him in return and rubbing himself all over him, their bodies clashing clumsily with almost-painful friction.

--clothes. Too many clothes. In the way.

With a snarl, Waver pulls back at last. Mouth bloody, red dripping off his chin, he finally slides back all the way to Berserker's hips and lets go of his hands to begin shredding his shirt instead. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker's growling slowly subsides as he's thoroughly marked, another sign of submission. His throat is bloody and bruised now, a total mess and he can't mind it. His breathing is ragged as Waver finally pulls back, taking a moment to try to collect himself. He's overstimulated, nerves raw, every little touch, movement, and breath like a shock to his system. The reprieve is only momentary, though -- the tearing of his clothes brings him right back to where he was.

This is fine. Caster already tore his pants earlier in the night in his haste to get them off, it's only fair the rest of his clothing gets similar treatment. Not one to just lay back and take it (not anymore, anyway), he starts to remove Waver's clothes in a similarly careless, almost desperate way. Skin contact is all he's focusing on, the most direct method to get that is the only one. ]

[tryhard]

[ Waver doesn't care about his clothes being removed right now, but the way Berserker does it borders on rebellion, and Waver moves quickly to show him he won't let the dragon get the upper hand again. He lets his claws graze deeper, cutting into cloth and skin alike, shoves Berserker's shirt off his shoulders and then tries to yank up.

The intent is to use Berserker's sleeves, which are still mostly intact, to force his arms up so Waver can tangle them in the leftover cloth. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ And, mostly due to the confusion that sets in, Waver succeeds. Berserker hadn't been expecting him to fight that in particular. Bound up in his own shirt, he's at a marked disadvantage. Completely robbed of his control (unless he wants to get his tail involved), the dragon lays back on the ground, growling. Defiant until the end. ]

[tryhard]

[ Even with his claws being somewhat in the way, Waver makes quick work of tying -- or mostly, tangling -- the rest of the cloth together around Berserker's forearms and wrists. There's nowhere to actually tie him too, and he can easily bring his arms back up either around Waver or to try to attack him or free himself... so really, it's not a very effective way to trap somebody. But Waver isn't thinking. Not with his head.

Satisfied that Berserker gets the idea, if nothing else, Waver scoots further down his body, making sure to rub himself against him as much as possible in the process. Even when he reluctantly has to lift up enough to yank Berserker's trousers down, Waver's tail wraps around one of his calves to keep hold of him possessively.

It's a mad -- and not particularly efficient -- scramble to get both their pants off, using more claws than common sense. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ If Berserker were thinking, he could easily free himself. He's not, though, and he doesn't care to free himself. He's been conquered and he'll play the part of the submissive loser. He does struggle against the binds just a little, but he really is too gone to do anything effective against it.

It helps that his pants were already torn. They easily give way to Waver's efforts, eased along by Berserker lifting his hips, revealing his half-hard cock beneath. His growling grows louder, an empty threat, as his tail flicks in agitation. ]

[tryhard]

[ Waver shoves his own trousers out of the way-- and when pushing them down only makes it so he has trouble spreading his legs enough to straddle Berserker, he just tears them off too. He's going to regret it later but right now the sense of urgency is overwhelming. He wants to fuck, claim, needs the skin-on-skin contact that will get his scent all over his prey.

He ends up half-naked on top of Berserker, the shreds of his torn-open shirt clinging to him bloodstained and ruined, bare from the waist down save for his socks and boots.

Waver braces himself on Berserker's chest, fingers hooking and claws digging in once more for no other reason than to draw blood and scent it in the air. He presses their hips together, roughly, and ruts against Berserker's cock.

The sensation makes him snarl. It's all sweat and heat and friction, sticky skin-on-skin with no lubricant between them. It doesn't exactly feel good, but it is intense-- and that's fine for now. He's satisfied to be on top of his conquest, makings sure it's his scent all over Berserker now.

Waver leans down, tongue swiping up the fresh blood from Berserker's chest. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It doesn't help that Berserker has the scents of others on him from this long night: Diarmuid, Alex, Caster, Geralt, and Ozymandias all linger on his skin, most of them having left their own marks on him in one way or another. It doesn't surprise him that Waver wants to erase those scents and cover it with his own.

The friction is a lot, bordering on more painful than pleasurable. The only thing softening the contact is his own pre-come and their sweat -- it's not much, but it helps. He meets the desperate rutting with his own, driven further by the sharp claws pressed into his chest. His sounds of pleasure take on a much less restrained, much less human tone, his growls turning into almost frenzied cries. The scent of blood and arousal is almost too much to bear. ]

[tryhard]

[ It's a heady, dizzying mix, the mingling scents of their arousal, blood, sweat. All the other scents around Berserker are beneath it, and Waver's instincts bid him to keep going, to claim him until he's erased any trace of his apparent competitors tonight.

Once again, Waver slides up along his body, arching into him to rub himself along Berserker's stomach. His mouth is at the dragon's throat, growling eagerly and licking at him, this time without teeth. While he rubs his cock against Berserker's abdomen, smearing his precum and sweat between them, the curve of the dragon's dick presses against his ass. Waver rubs himself back against it too with a low groan.

There's no finesse or grace to this, no thought really of how he plans to proceed. He just wants to make sure everyone knows by scent alone that this is his. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Any attempt at penetration is ill-advised without some kind of lubrication. Even if it's maddening and his instincts are telling him otherwise, he settles for what he's being given right now. All he can do is rut against Waver's ass as his own needy sounds grow louder. He's not getting much direct stimulation, though the turnskin's eager motions are arousing him further.

Berserker squirms beneath him, frustrated and horny beyond all reason. If he tries to take anything else, Waver will punish him for it. He's already been conquered...so what's a little begging? Struggling to find his voice, he forces himself to speak. ]

More...

[tryhard]

[ ...more?

Waver growls in response, a low and lingering noise that rumbles in his chest as his mouth latches onto the side of Berserker's throat. His teeth nick again, just enough to squeeze without drawing blood this time, tongue lathing against skin. He sucks, insistently; he plans to leave as many marks as possible.

In the meantime, Waver doesn't seem particularly concerned with paying much attention to Berserker's dick. His movements haven't stopped, and his squirming and rocking probably give Berserker a bit of friction for him to rub against the curve of Waver's ass when he pushes it back, but not much more than that. Waver seems a lot more interested with just rubbing himself off right now.

He presses himself close on all fours, straddling Berserker like a piece of furniture to hump, and ruts against his abs with whining, gasping pleasure. The leak of precum from his own cock slicks the way, making it easier for Waver to use the press of their bodies for friction. When he arches, hips rocking in short bursts, the heat between them is electric. When he's this worked up, and focused only on marking his prey with his scent, it's not too difficult to get himself there.

Waver's teeth squeeze around Berserker's throat as if to pin him there, muffling his noises as he comes. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It's so unfair how worked up he is. It's so unfair that Waver gets to come, to make a mess of his body when he's getting cockteased in returned. Berserker whines as his throat is bitten and thrashes beneath him. It's a final injustice to all of this, really. So thoroughly marked as Waver's but without anything to show for it but a borderline painful erection.

It's time to correct this injustice.

Without warning, he tears the remnants of his shirt restraining his hands and tries to grab a hold of Waver. He's frustrated and horny and it's all his fault. So now he wants to take him somewhere safer where he can get what he wants from him...Return to the roost, so to speak. ]

[tryhard]

[ Berserker's timing is apt, if his goal is to grab Waver unsuspecting and less likely to resist. He was just settling down, still catching his breath, flopped on top of Berserker and licking with satisfaction at his neck.

One moment, Waver's nuzzling him happily, warm and basking in the afterglow; the next, there's that sharp tearing noise above and suddenly he's being grabbed and lifted up. Waver's too surprised to resist in time.

He only lets out an indignant yelp, wings lifting up as if the tiny, decorative things can intimidate a dragon. His tail lashes, claws immediately grabbing hold of Berserker's shoulders-- but he quickly realizes the grip must be to hold on, not to fight. Because Waver's just finally remembered that Berserker is actually much larger and stronger than him, after all. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It's absolutely to hold on -- his grip on Waver is tight and doesn't lessen.. The claws in his shoulder get no response as Berserker rolls to his feet. It's only a few moments until they're in the air and...what a sight it must be for anyone looking up in the sky right now. Hopefully no one neither of them know will see them, but that's the furthest thing on his mind.

It's a short flight, Berseker's powerful wings easily carrying them the distance to the apartment block. Even with any potential struggles from his unwilling passenger, nothing seems to slow him down. Once he lands, he still doesn't release Waver even as he goes through the door. What he needs is in his bedroom and that is his destination. It's not until he's past the threshold to that room that he lets go of his cargo. "Let go" is a generous way of saying that he's tossed like a ragdoll onto the mattress. ]

Stay there. [ He snarls as he removes the last remaining shreds of his own clothing. ]

[tryhard]

[ Flying had never crossed Waver's mind when Berserker grabbed him. He's startled, to say the least, his resistance quickly turning to desperate clinging as the ground grows smaller beneath them. Waver's legs wrap around Berserker's waist, his tail curling around his side to help hold on as he presses himself as close as possible. He spends the whole trip whining softly, a constant, anxious noise of displeasure until they finally land on solid ground.

He's almost grateful to be tossed onto the bed, even if it's a rough landing. Well, about as rough as landing on a mattress can be, which is to say his wings feel a little crushed and he's disoriented for a few moments, snarling and struggling to right himself.

But Waver's more or less recovered by the time Berserker comes back. Whether or not he was actually responding to the order earlier, he's technically stayed on the bed, though he's up on all fours now, wings up and quivering like raised hackles. His teeth flash, bared in a full-throated growl.

Having already established his 'dominance' earlier and thoroughly marked Berserker, it doesn't look like Waver's instincts are about to let him do what he wants without a fight. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker is no longer in the mood to be dominated, it seems. He's too horny to just accept Waver's earlier dominance. His wings spread out, teeth bared and growling, as he gets back on the bed; it's a threatening, vicious show. It's not an empty threat, either, as he lunges for the turnskin suddenly. He wants to get him into a submissive position, it doesn't matter how -- he will make it happen. He's so painfully hard and it's all Waver's fault; even as feral as he is right now, it seems his petty streak is well intact. ]

[tryhard]

[ Berserker's dark wings cast a prominent shadow over the room, filling the small space oppressively and making him look huge as Waver shrinks instinctively in response, crouching low on the bed. He snarls back, ears pinned, long tail lashing aggressively. Berserker's body is blocking his path; there's only wall behind him.

When Berserker lunges, Waver holds his ground -- as well as he can, at least. He lashes out with his claws, teeth snapping in the air, clicking together sharply. His tail comes around like a whip, the end barbed and hard (though it actually looks sharper than it really is.)

After Waver's mounting and marking of Berserker earlier, he's covered in Waver's scent. And more. Together with evidence of their earlier activities and the scent of Berserker's overwhelming arousal, the room feels stifling, the need urgent. Waver makes him earn it.

He's small, but he's stronger than he looks these days. Instincts and fight-or-flight reflexes kick into overdrive; he's out of his mind feral, and he's not going to make it easy for Berserker to pin him. The scent of blood seeps into the air to join the heady mix, and Waver's eyes burn hungry red. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He expected nothing less from Waver. There's not so much as a flinch from Berserker at his defense, the scratches and bites doing nothing to slow him down. Unstoppable and unyielding in any battle, this is no different. Berserker refuses to admit defeat now -- he knows what he wants and his instincts tell him to dominate.

With no regard for his own safety, he grabs for Waver's waist, the point of most leverage. He's trying to flip him onto his back and pin him down that way. It's not going to be easy and he's accepted that. ]

oops i forgot the html last tag huh......

[tryhard]

[ Waver's claws snag into Berserker's forearm but find his grip unyielding. Even as Waver tears flesh open, Berserker grabs him tight, leveraging their size difference and Waver's cornered position to his advantage.

The blood-scent is heavy in the air. Waver's heart is pounding.

He lands on his back with a grunt and a snarl, and immediately starts snapping his teeth at Berserker's face when he gets close. With the dragon on top of him, Waver's legs and tail are mostly pinned, but he does his best to pull his arms free. He'll claw at Berserker's chest and shoulders, even his throat, if given the chance. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ None of this deters Berserker. It's not even his animal instincts that keep him from yielding or retreating, but rather what made him so terrifying as both in life and as a Servant. It doesn't matter how much damage is done to him, so long as he's still capable of moving, he will stop at nothing to do what he's determined to do. What makes it different is what he's set out to do is something he wants, not something he was told to do or must do to survive.

He shows no fear nor much emotion at all -- it seems he's totally fallen into that peculiar mindset. He refuses to let up at all, the turnskin's struggles to free his arms almost futile against the dragon's raw strength. Berserker outweighs him and his grip is strong (if he were more in his right mind, he would praise Waver's efforts in the face of a seemingly hopeless situation). Single-minded and dead set on dominating, he starts to grind down against him. ]

[tryhard]

[ Waver's attempts to free himself fall mostly flat. One wrist remains pinned down, the rest of his body trapped by Berserker's weight, and though he gets the claws of his other hand in Berserker's shoulder, they don't seem to do much. Especially when they hit up against scales. He can't get a better reach with Berserker pressing down onto him, though, covering him with his much larger form.

Waver gasps at the friction, hips jumping automatically with the stimulation whether he's still mad at Berserker for flipping the tables or not. He can feel the length of him, hard and slick with precum, the textured ridges and bumps of Berserker's cock grinding against the crease of his thigh and groin and up against his own smaller cock. It's been a few minutes, so the sensation isn't as overwhelming as it would have been immediately after coming, but Waver's not quite hard himself. Yet.

It takes a little while longer, but it seems he might be starting to be convinced. The snarls are fewer and far between, replaced by whines and panting. ]