SUNJATA
the flood
there was a moment, a hole opened in the sky
a chance to join that pantheon
a chance to join that pantheon
Disappointment has been his compass needle for so long now. An attempt to prevent disappointment to prevent punishment, in taking the gut reactions he has and acting on them. But he follows their offer, leaning back into the warmth of Frey, into the hands that work along his shoulders, along his back, to his cheeks and his inner thighs, working over that bullet scar he has lodged deep into one thigh. He flushes more with the sound of Frey’s voice at his ear, his head tilting away from it as if to expose his neck a fraction more, clinging to the words that leave Frey.
And they’re right. He cares too much about what other people think of him. So much that it’s a detriment. He’d stuffed that version of himself that ran off and joined the rebellion so far into him that he doesn’t know what’s come out since then. That and perhaps so many near death experiences had fucked with his brain a bit too much.
A sound leaves his throat with the greedy hands, one that slips into a hint of a whimper as he’s pressed against Frey’s torso, with the hand around his throat as his head tips back, with a hand that dips between his legs that he rolls his hips into. “Speaking of war and rules… Is there…” He pauses to take a deep breath, hands moving to run along Frey’s legs that he’s perched between. “Anything you want me to do?” Now that he's made the change, understood what parts of him had changed with becoming a demigod, now that magic slipped beneath his veins. Did Frey want him to go out and be the mediator between the sides, was there something else more specific? Had their needs changed?
And they’re right. He cares too much about what other people think of him. So much that it’s a detriment. He’d stuffed that version of himself that ran off and joined the rebellion so far into him that he doesn’t know what’s come out since then. That and perhaps so many near death experiences had fucked with his brain a bit too much.
A sound leaves his throat with the greedy hands, one that slips into a hint of a whimper as he’s pressed against Frey’s torso, with the hand around his throat as his head tips back, with a hand that dips between his legs that he rolls his hips into. “Speaking of war and rules… Is there…” He pauses to take a deep breath, hands moving to run along Frey’s legs that he’s perched between. “Anything you want me to do?” Now that he's made the change, understood what parts of him had changed with becoming a demigod, now that magic slipped beneath his veins. Did Frey want him to go out and be the mediator between the sides, was there something else more specific? Had their needs changed?
for all the times they never heard your battlecry
now be an angel, sing along
now be an angel, sing along
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.
