SUNJATA
if the tide takes california, i'm so glad i got to hold ya
They’ve never been good at their words. The things they want to say would always trap themselves in their throats – coated with glue, stuck to the side, pressed and repressed down far enough away that they didn’t have to look at it, even if they wanted to. Sunjata, himself, often battled with the idea of speaking his mind, the sharp-edged voice of his father cutting through his words, reminding him how soft he had once been, how vulnerable sharing ones feelings were. But with Nate? It doesn’t apply. He’s still terrible at piecing together the words, but feelings? Feelings were something he could do. Through touch, through the attuned bond, it was his lifeline – a life spent touch starved and reprimanded from it often made him overexert with it.
Nate’s never minded it, though. And it’s part of the reason Sunjata loved him so much.
But he never expects this question, not as he leans into Nate’s touch – relishing in it, thriving in it. Like a plant that’s gone without water for too long, suddenly getting that drop of relief to spread through his roots. He presses the side of his face against Nate’s, awaiting the question with bated breath, a pause, ensuring that he’s not looking at the demigod, nor that the demigod is looking at him. He knows well enough by now that they’d never get anywhere staring at one another.
The question is aired and Nate’s holding him so tightly, that the thought of what Nate means by it has his heart aching. It aches because it swells and he doesn’t know what to do with the sudden burst that stabs through his heart like the arrow tattooed to his chest. But he’s terrible with words, and it takes him a moment to wrap his mind around it, to form the words without growing absolutely speechless. So his arms tighten, one around Nate’s middle, the other around his back, and his head angles into Nate’s neck and buries itself there, wondering if Nate could feel the hot pulse of tears that slip from his eyes clamped so tightly shut.
Nate… He pauses, squeezing his husband tighter. I want that too. Gods, I’ve never wanted something more. It’s different this time around, Sunjata realizing that he actually did make a decent father with being thrown face first into raising Kamaria – but there’s one thread that links the child of his and Safrin's to this new potential growth of their family.
Nate.
It’s always been Nate.
It always will be Nate.
Nate’s never minded it, though. And it’s part of the reason Sunjata loved him so much.
But he never expects this question, not as he leans into Nate’s touch – relishing in it, thriving in it. Like a plant that’s gone without water for too long, suddenly getting that drop of relief to spread through his roots. He presses the side of his face against Nate’s, awaiting the question with bated breath, a pause, ensuring that he’s not looking at the demigod, nor that the demigod is looking at him. He knows well enough by now that they’d never get anywhere staring at one another.
The question is aired and Nate’s holding him so tightly, that the thought of what Nate means by it has his heart aching. It aches because it swells and he doesn’t know what to do with the sudden burst that stabs through his heart like the arrow tattooed to his chest. But he’s terrible with words, and it takes him a moment to wrap his mind around it, to form the words without growing absolutely speechless. So his arms tighten, one around Nate’s middle, the other around his back, and his head angles into Nate’s neck and buries itself there, wondering if Nate could feel the hot pulse of tears that slip from his eyes clamped so tightly shut.
Nate… He pauses, squeezing his husband tighter. I want that too. Gods, I’ve never wanted something more. It’s different this time around, Sunjata realizing that he actually did make a decent father with being thrown face first into raising Kamaria – but there’s one thread that links the child of his and Safrin's to this new potential growth of their family.
Nate.
It’s always been Nate.
It always will be Nate.
and if the sky falls from heaven above
oh i know i had the best time falling into love
oh i know i had the best time falling into love
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.
