Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
The cat quite literally has his tongue, so it seems, while he settles there and Danta curls up against him. It’s comfortable, warm and nice and like nothing that Asta has experienced before. No, typically, the bloodlust sparks, the frenzy happens. He’s nearly dazed with the loss of those subsequent steps. He’s in his head enough that his hand idly runs along Danta’s smooth and soft skin at his back, dark gaze focused on the ceiling as his spaded tail waves idly like a comfortable cat.
He seems satisfied enough with getting the blood off of his cheek and lips for the most part, feeling the rumble of the question vibrate against his throat. “Yes.” He finds the words to say, hopefully alleviating any worry Danta might start to have. “I am admittedly not used to this.” He says a few moments later, head tilting slightly to press his jaw against the top of Danta’s head, fingertips brushing along the very hot marks left behind as they continue to bloom darker.
He seems satisfied enough with getting the blood off of his cheek and lips for the most part, feeling the rumble of the question vibrate against his throat. “Yes.” He finds the words to say, hopefully alleviating any worry Danta might start to have. “I am admittedly not used to this.” He says a few moments later, head tilting slightly to press his jaw against the top of Danta’s head, fingertips brushing along the very hot marks left behind as they continue to bloom darker.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
