forced myself to take a different name
buried with metonymy
Safrin meets his gaze, eye to eye, and he’s surprised with the purr that leaves her, but he can’t help but to enjoy it. He’s entirely captivated, by stars and beauty and light and nothing that he wonders for a moment if he is still breathing. As if his breath had hitched in his lungs the closer she had come. Her arms, starlit and beautiful slink around his shoulders, pulling him close and he’s hopeless in avoiding it.
Not like the thought even crosses his mind.
A smirk finds his face as she broadly smiles back to him, breathless and captivated as her thumb runs along his lower lip — and the tingling he feels has him exhaling gently, reminding himself to breathe. Before it extends to the rest of him, and he almost vibrates with the sensation. He doesn’t have time to make a comment, a playful statement —
Because it dies the second her lips meet his.
It’s honestly nothing like what he expected (though he had absolutely zero expectations to begin with when it came to gods) and his eyes shutter closed, starlight dancing beneath his lids — his body soft and gentle and light despite the heaviness in his heart, in his mind.
But he obviously can’t help himself from kissing her back with all his roguish charm, somewhere deep within him against the shift toward the light within him. “Mhmm…?” He manages in lieu of a question, wondering what else Safrin would have him do. At this point he’d do anything.
Not like the thought even crosses his mind.
A smirk finds his face as she broadly smiles back to him, breathless and captivated as her thumb runs along his lower lip — and the tingling he feels has him exhaling gently, reminding himself to breathe. Before it extends to the rest of him, and he almost vibrates with the sensation. He doesn’t have time to make a comment, a playful statement —
Because it dies the second her lips meet his.
It’s honestly nothing like what he expected (though he had absolutely zero expectations to begin with when it came to gods) and his eyes shutter closed, starlight dancing beneath his lids — his body soft and gentle and light despite the heaviness in his heart, in his mind.
But he obviously can’t help himself from kissing her back with all his roguish charm, somewhere deep within him against the shift toward the light within him. “Mhmm…?” He manages in lieu of a question, wondering what else Safrin would have him do. At this point he’d do anything.
throw the man you used to be away
bury him with rivalry, entirely
SUNJATA
the flood
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.
