[While Lahabrea was the architect behind their new deity, it was Elidibus who became their savior. There aren’t enough words in the world for Lahabrea to express his gratitude, so instead of trying, he offers himself in sweet supplication. However, his offering should not be confused with sacrifice. No, he wants this as badly as Themis does. He wants all mentions of Athena purged from his very soul by Elidibus’ hands alone. This is his choice, his rebellion against the wicked woman who used him for everything he had. While she aspired to become a god, he managed to create one with his own two hands. Zodiark was nothing short of perfection, but what made him perfect was the gentle soul that made his throne within its heart.
Lahabrea shudders as Elidibus combs back his hair. He could feel how those slim fingers raked through each strand with reverent grace. It is enough to make him tremble with anticipation. When he was getting used to the sensations, those delicate fingers traveled down to his face, anointing his flesh with their love. As Elidibus caresses his ears, he surrenders to their ticklish touch without so much as a flinch. Hephaistos wills himself not to back down from this anointment as Elidibus studies the last bit of him with such devotion. Every touch he comments to memory, his body yearns for more of the deliverance that Elidibus offers.
A quiet gasp escaped him the moment Elidibus’ fingers reached his lips. The sensation of his thumb caressing his bottom lip made him blush in a new way. Yes, his ears always tend to bear the brunt of that red hue, but so do his cheeks.]
Paint me as you will, Emissary. Spare no crevice untouched and explore the very depths of body and soul. I bear myself before you, not as my title but as the man behind the mask. I am Hephaistos, and I desire all you will give me and more. This is my decision and my choice.
[He reaches up towards the collar of his shirt to unhook the fasteners that keep it closed. Little by little, his dark flesh is revealed. The faded scars that pepper his arms lightly crisscross across his chest and down towards his toned abdomen. He looks strong—mighty, even. Not only is he a man of science and wonders, but he is also a warrior. Valleys of tight muscle await Elidibus’ scrutiny once Hephaistos shrugs off his shirt. Not even the scars on his chest could dampen the beauty of the exotic flesh.
Hephaistos is a rarity among their kind. A rare stone chiseled to perfection but abused by unworthy hands. He looks like a work of art carved out of clay. While he cannot see his worth, Elidibus certainly can with that wonderful view. There's no shame in his eyes, not even as he bares himself to Elidibus. His fingers drifted to the waist of his leggings, pausing momentarily before slowly lowering them past his thighs. He cannot get them down further without standing, but Elidibus is rewarded with a pleasant view of his semi-erect cock.]
nsfw
Lahabrea shudders as Elidibus combs back his hair. He could feel how those slim fingers raked through each strand with reverent grace. It is enough to make him tremble with anticipation. When he was getting used to the sensations, those delicate fingers traveled down to his face, anointing his flesh with their love. As Elidibus caresses his ears, he surrenders to their ticklish touch without so much as a flinch. Hephaistos wills himself not to back down from this anointment as Elidibus studies the last bit of him with such devotion. Every touch he comments to memory, his body yearns for more of the deliverance that Elidibus offers.
A quiet gasp escaped him the moment Elidibus’ fingers reached his lips. The sensation of his thumb caressing his bottom lip made him blush in a new way. Yes, his ears always tend to bear the brunt of that red hue, but so do his cheeks.]
Paint me as you will, Emissary. Spare no crevice untouched and explore the very depths of body and soul. I bear myself before you, not as my title but as the man behind the mask. I am Hephaistos, and I desire all you will give me and more. This is my decision and my choice.
[He reaches up towards the collar of his shirt to unhook the fasteners that keep it closed. Little by little, his dark flesh is revealed. The faded scars that pepper his arms lightly crisscross across his chest and down towards his toned abdomen. He looks strong—mighty, even. Not only is he a man of science and wonders, but he is also a warrior. Valleys of tight muscle await Elidibus’ scrutiny once Hephaistos shrugs off his shirt. Not even the scars on his chest could dampen the beauty of the exotic flesh.
Hephaistos is a rarity among their kind. A rare stone chiseled to perfection but abused by unworthy hands. He looks like a work of art carved out of clay. While he cannot see his worth, Elidibus certainly can with that wonderful view. There's no shame in his eyes, not even as he bares himself to Elidibus. His fingers drifted to the waist of his leggings, pausing momentarily before slowly lowering them past his thighs. He cannot get them down further without standing, but Elidibus is rewarded with a pleasant view of his semi-erect cock.]