the sea speaks a little more honestly
She really gives it her best shot, broken up as they are, it hits each and every chanted syllable that the Flood is hoping for. It sparks more fire within him, the electricity zapping through his veins, one that’s held back for the most part while she tries to grant more purchase. At least, that’s what he thinks she’s trying to do with the way she grips his wings. A shiver vibrates through him, more groans and moans escaping him as he rocks his hips into her. The sound is one that’s the low thrum of her name, of praise that trickles from his throat, how she’s found just the way to rile him up by toying with his wings as she has.
And that’s when he feels her break, the waves of it encompassing him and spurring him on, riding them out with her as his pace stutters for a moment. His fingertips dig in, short of bruising but leaving reddened marks behind, curving into her as he aims to hold and cradle her for his own end. And gods does it work.
Shortly after her own relief does Sunjata’s arrive, the sensation sparking enough of an emotional charge that each one of those scars on display, near and far from her face and down his arm sparks with a lightning strike hue beneath his skin, golden as it races down toward his heart like a lightning strike of its own. He rides his own out, lips finding her cheek and neck and shoulder, panting hard breaths against her skin wherever his mouth touches.
And when he’s finally recovered enough, his gaze is heavy lidded when he withdraws slightly, they’re both soaked, but he still tries desperately to brush away the blonde strands sticking to her face as his wings tremble against her where they press in.
And that’s when he feels her break, the waves of it encompassing him and spurring him on, riding them out with her as his pace stutters for a moment. His fingertips dig in, short of bruising but leaving reddened marks behind, curving into her as he aims to hold and cradle her for his own end. And gods does it work.
Shortly after her own relief does Sunjata’s arrive, the sensation sparking enough of an emotional charge that each one of those scars on display, near and far from her face and down his arm sparks with a lightning strike hue beneath his skin, golden as it races down toward his heart like a lightning strike of its own. He rides his own out, lips finding her cheek and neck and shoulder, panting hard breaths against her skin wherever his mouth touches.
And when he’s finally recovered enough, his gaze is heavy lidded when he withdraws slightly, they’re both soaked, but he still tries desperately to brush away the blonde strands sticking to her face as his wings tremble against her where they press in.
to those who are willing to drown
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
