we must always be willing to be more savage to the angels
rip up their flesh and reveal them to be nothing
His head is held between Nate’s hands, and his steel gaze looks up to see the Ascended as the words leave his lips, causing some quirk of a smirk to cross Sunjata’s face. “Maybe I’ve always had a thing for those that could fix me when I inevitably fuck myself up.” He jests, the smirk shifting to something crooked. “Luci fixed me up far too many times.” A hum of a laugh to that, before he’s leaning into the kiss, his hand sifting through the dark hair and braiding it quickly before he’s flicking it into Nate’s peripheral.
And there’s a bit of a softer smile to that as he shifts a small amount, giving Nate the room he needs to wrap his arms around his shoulders. “Oh?” He questions, letting his fingers roam through the dark hair a bit more, picking and prodding at pieces to add to it. But it’s ruined as soon as Nate’s pressing him against his chest, and Sunjata does nothing but cling to the other man, burying his face into Nate’s tattooed chest.
There are absolutely words for this, and yet Sunjata can’t quite find them in him, not yet anyway. But that always was the case wasn’t it? Why did he constantly have to feel so anxious? Was it because he was afraid that everyone he’d ever talked to in that regard would simply be taken from him? Yes. But did that make it any different if he said it versus something like this where he showed it?
The answer is no. And he wars within himself, trying to debate while he feels Nate’s pressure applied wherever he can – he can feel it in the embrace from Nate even if he can’t say it either. And maybe, just maybe it’s time for Sunjata to swallow down on his fears, his anxieties, the swirling terror in his gut. And after a few moments, when Nate pulls away briefly and replaces it with a kiss, Sunjata pulls himself out of the stupor the moment Nate’s head is on his chest, his face against his neck – a much easier angle to work with as his fingers resume their explorations in dark raven hair, and a few more braids pop up.
He pulls his other hand up to continue on the other side as well, until he swallows down the anxieties once more, a flush of red to the back of his neck as he takes a deep inhale, almost shaky. Almost. “Hey, Nate?” He questions, a quiet hum of his voice, pausing in the braiding to nuzzle his head against the Ascended’s, sure that Nate could probably hear the fucking thundering of his heart in his chest. “Ek het jou lief.”
And there’s a bit of a softer smile to that as he shifts a small amount, giving Nate the room he needs to wrap his arms around his shoulders. “Oh?” He questions, letting his fingers roam through the dark hair a bit more, picking and prodding at pieces to add to it. But it’s ruined as soon as Nate’s pressing him against his chest, and Sunjata does nothing but cling to the other man, burying his face into Nate’s tattooed chest.
There are absolutely words for this, and yet Sunjata can’t quite find them in him, not yet anyway. But that always was the case wasn’t it? Why did he constantly have to feel so anxious? Was it because he was afraid that everyone he’d ever talked to in that regard would simply be taken from him? Yes. But did that make it any different if he said it versus something like this where he showed it?
The answer is no. And he wars within himself, trying to debate while he feels Nate’s pressure applied wherever he can – he can feel it in the embrace from Nate even if he can’t say it either. And maybe, just maybe it’s time for Sunjata to swallow down on his fears, his anxieties, the swirling terror in his gut. And after a few moments, when Nate pulls away briefly and replaces it with a kiss, Sunjata pulls himself out of the stupor the moment Nate’s head is on his chest, his face against his neck – a much easier angle to work with as his fingers resume their explorations in dark raven hair, and a few more braids pop up.
He pulls his other hand up to continue on the other side as well, until he swallows down the anxieties once more, a flush of red to the back of his neck as he takes a deep inhale, almost shaky. Almost. “Hey, Nate?” He questions, a quiet hum of his voice, pausing in the braiding to nuzzle his head against the Ascended’s, sure that Nate could probably hear the fucking thundering of his heart in his chest. “Ek het jou lief.”
how willing you must be to kill angels
and how willing they must be to let you do it
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.
