we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different
the same old things expecting something different
She holds her ground as he partially shifts and approaches, leaving the offer on the table to switch to something else if this isn’t to her liking – but the way her eyes scan over his body and her back arches just right against him, her hand at his collar to pull him down and he goes quite willingly with the rustle of his wings as they flare and stretch out, one wrapping around her to tug her in closer even as his head drops to her own.
“Nothing about you screams “soft”, but you never know.” He answers with a huff of a laugh – but he’s pleased with her own answer nonetheless, his calloused and scarred hands dancing up her sides as he dives down toward her neck, lips finding a place there before the brush of his teeth. He parts shortly after, slipping the shirt from his head and his wings with practiced ease and leaving it wherever it was before. He turns her initially toward the plush bed, the dim light stretching across his body now in full view for her to take in.
All the scars and tattoos that tell varying stories – the most prominent being the lightning scars that creep toward his heart and down his right shoulder and arm to his hand, the wing tattoos that spread over his shoulders in a dark navy hue, the scar above his hip in a sharp line that spells out a crude NW. He pauses long enough for her to take him in before he's surging toward her again, this time a bit more greedy and pushy about guiding her back.
“Nothing about you screams “soft”, but you never know.” He answers with a huff of a laugh – but he’s pleased with her own answer nonetheless, his calloused and scarred hands dancing up her sides as he dives down toward her neck, lips finding a place there before the brush of his teeth. He parts shortly after, slipping the shirt from his head and his wings with practiced ease and leaving it wherever it was before. He turns her initially toward the plush bed, the dim light stretching across his body now in full view for her to take in.
All the scars and tattoos that tell varying stories – the most prominent being the lightning scars that creep toward his heart and down his right shoulder and arm to his hand, the wing tattoos that spread over his shoulders in a dark navy hue, the scar above his hip in a sharp line that spells out a crude NW. He pauses long enough for her to take him in before he's surging toward her again, this time a bit more greedy and pushy about guiding her back.
but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste
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.
