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the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
Something is wrong.
And the most infuriating part? He can’t tell what it is. He knows that he wakes, that the muted morning of Leafchange filters into the window, blocked by the velveteen curtains draped around their den. It hadn’t been enough to wake him, though. And as he takes in the familiar environment, searching for something out of place, he comes up absolutely empty.
He looks to his side, to see Danta nestled in, the way the light picks up against a few stray strands of gold, sparking them into the same brilliance a flashlight might have, echoing gentle shadows against the smooth and slightly raised scars that litter his lover’s skin. But that hasn’t changed, either, and as far as he can tell Danta seems to be sleeping very well.
It’s a boon, of course, because it grants him some small amount of time to figure his shit out. Something he doesn’t manage to do when the overwhelming sense of greed overtakes him. So he stuffs the sensation down, the possessiveness weighing out over the mind that’s sleepy in the morning wakefulness that only tea seemed to shake him out of. He isn’t calculating or thoughtful right now. He isn’t any of the things he often prided himself on being.
There’s the shuffle outside of their door, the usual morning arrival from the Dusklight staff of water and restocks from nights before when they’d run out of something or other. And he knows, logically, that it’s likely their usual breakfast that’s been dropped off. But the butcher’s tail whips his distaste under the sheet after he’d thrown off the furs in his sleep. It has him turning toward Danta, arms wrapping around the Maverick to tuck him in close, to take a moment to make sure the door was locked (and perhaps to send his shadow over as a blockade juuuust in case), when he turns back to Danta and buries his face into his neck, pressing surprisingly soft kisses to the hollow of his throat and shoulder that are at odds with the war waged within him mentally.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
Danta is sleeping very well, actually. Leafchange in itself doesn’t tend to affect them, not in the way it likely releases its hold on the rest of Caido, but as the temperature lowers, it does seem to draw the Maverick deeper into his slumber. He doesn’t feel Asta stir beside him, he doesn’t feel him shift and move, and he certainly doesn’t hear the movement outside their door as the Dusklight staff approach and leave behind their breakfast for the morning.
No, with a night blissfully free of nightmares in his back pocket and the world still muted and quiet (mostly) outside, Danta might have remained that way for another hour or so, dozing into the morning, if not for the press of heat and soft lips against his neck, or the arms that coil possessively around his body. Humming a note of affectionate confusion - because Asta is not usually one to bother him awake, and in fact it’s very much the other way around - Danta cracks an eye open and raises a brow over his shoulder.
[say]"Can I help you?"[/say] he purrs, voice sleep roughened and low, and he turns lazily into the other man as if this is nothing more than a polite request from the butcher that he change position. Danta has probably rolled onto his tail in his sleep or something; either way, he’s certainly not complaining about the unexpected wake-up call.
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
Withdrawing only enough to hear the rumble of the Maverick’s voice as it airs in the quiet and warm space between them, the butcher’s honey gaze seems sharper as he scans over Danta’s features, lingering on the shadows cast by the sharp cut of his cheekbones, filled in by the reflective hue of the muted sun as it hits a prismatic horn. “[say]Yes.[/say]” Asta hums softly, the first word uttered since he’d woken up feeling strange.
There’s no tail Danta will find that he’s rolled onto. In fact, it continues to twitch and whip behind him, even if nothing is completely out of place. It soothes a little as he feels the pressure of his lover’s body press into him, punctuating the sensation with another press of his lips to Danta’s jaw and the corner of his mouth.
It’s something he very rarely – if ever – has done, so the way that his mind flits around the idea of it seems to bounce like a bouncy ball trying to refrain from sticking in one particular direction. Not quite sticking one way or another, unsure how to even mention it but realizing that Danta wouldn’t care how it comes out. So he settles with an obvious, if not rough and somewhat husky “[say]Good morning, Dantalion, darling.[/say]”
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
[say]"Oh?"[/say] Danta raises his eyebrows, tone warm with lazy amusement even as he shifts to get more comfortable in the butcher’s arms as he turns to face him. [say]"Do tell."[/say] Completely expecting some banal request like would you put water on the stove or do you remember if I pressed those pants I wanted to wear today (listen, Asta is a particular man and Danta has long learned to embrace it), when what he gets instead is much more typical, arguably, of a request, it takes a couple of seconds for Danta to realise it.
[say]"Good morning,"[/say] he chirps in response, in fact, gentle fingers dragging soft lines up the length of the taller Ancient’s back, before the weight of his full name curls like a tongue of fire low in his belly. [say]"Oh. Good morning, huh?"[/say] Grinning, because he can’t help himself, if the Maverick had been clever or awake enough to think about it properly, he might have realised that the only other occasion where something like this had happened had been when Sunjata had inadvertently ended up in their bed.
But there’s no Flood to be seen now and, given that he’d gone to sleep wearing his scars and nothing more, it’s a very easy and salacious thing to drape himself up against the other man. [say]"To what do I owe the pleasure?"[/say]
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
It’s a good thing he’s very much not thinking about the Flood at this particular moment. Right now, the burning thoughts of what awaits them on the other side of the door are enough to drive him insane. Anything added to that and he might actually combust into flame, despite how well he’s tried to keep his haunt mostly at bay.
But the shadow is a sentinel as he lets Danta’s mind focus from the shadows of slumber he’s dragged him from, ignoring the questions before the realization sinks in if only so he can nestle in and steal another kiss from his cheek. Subconsciously following the lines felt from Danta’s fingers as they smooth up against his back, the butcher shifts, situating himself into a blanket that drapes against his lover just as he presses back in. “[say]If I am being honest, I do not know.[/say]” He admits, feeling the huff of a laugh leave him in just as much surprise as his admission had been, but it doesn’t stop the way his arms start to smooth down along his sides and hips. “[say]I do know, however, that I want nothing more than you right now.[/say]” Which he thinks (even in his sleepy state) that Danta might appreciate.
It’s when he finally dives in to stake that claim of a kiss that somehow is not tinged in the iron of blood or the smoke of fire that makes it seem all the more strange when he situates himself where he can press his hips against Danta’s own, desire clear despite not having the usual precursors. “[say]I hope you do not have plans.[/say]” Comes the husky purr, the sudden neediness and greed in the butcher’s tone that’s so very rarely there.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
[say]"No? Well, I’m hardly complaining,"[/say] Danta murmurs, too recently awake to ask such silly questions as hey lover, why do you want to fuck me? Instead - wisely, most might say - he shifts with Asta to allow himself to be pinned into the sheets and pillows, his hands smoothing down the length of his back again towards the base of his tail, which is right around when the butcher steals a real kiss from his lips.
Moaning softly into the heat of him and feeling his body start to respond automatically to the attention, what’s surprising, of course, is to feel that Asta has already beat him to the punch when it comes to being ready to go, Danta inhaling a shaky breath and raising his eyebrows up at the other man, equal parts surprised and impressed.
[say]"I was planning to get a headstart on counting your eyelashes while you dozed, but I think it can wait,"[/say] he says, the words dropping to an amused whisper that he almost kisses along Asta’s stubbled jaw. [say]"I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’d very much like you to get into me, since you’re asking."[/say]
Not waiting for him to respond, Danta leans up for another kiss, slow and indulgent as the fall of the morning light across their room through the curtains.
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
“[say]Good.[/say]” To hear that he isn’t going to complain, that is, because he’s not sure right now rationally that he could stand it. And even still, with their minds made up, he finds himself asking just on the off chance Danta had some important leadering things to do that Asta internally snarls at. Instead, he hears some of the best news, even if it’s snarky and playful. “[say]Mm, well, there will be time.[/say]” He assures Danta as he tilts his head gently into the whispered kisses along his stubbled jaw.
It’s a tender touch that doesn’t last that long, not as he concedes to the coiling within him. The restlessness that makes him both frustrated and demanding, he presses back into the kiss as if he can explain all of those with just the press of his lips and the swipe of his tongue. But it’s lacking, as if trying to race time, unable to eloquently express it how he otherwise might.
His hands are possessive where they drag along his lover’s sides, surging back into the kiss until he aches before he withdraws. All thoughts blur into one as he shifts again, this time murmuring a low growl of “[say]that can be arranged.[/say]” belatedly, like his mind is still trying to catch up with the strangeness blooming in him.
Furs and sheets are disregarded as he rises, knelt between Danta’s legs as his hands and tail drag across smooth, sleep warmed skin, before he encouragingly tries to twist Danta around, to mirror him on his knees all while giving him the option to stroke warm fire tipped fingers up the expanse of his spine and to the nape of his neck. “[say]I want nothing more than to ravage you.[/say]” Comes the low and husky sound, the growl scraping through the deeper recesses of his accent as fire drags back down Danta’s spine toward his hips, helping to hitch him up steadier.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
Let it be known that there’s never a time where Danta doesn’t want to be pinned and fucked by Asta, and as the tender touch becomes something hungry and possessive, all caged violence and need, the Maverick completely melts into it. There will be time to ask what Leafchange ghost has apparently possessed his lover later - for now he comes to life under the butcher’s calloused fingers, arching and shifting until he’s obediently before the other man, knees spreading, body stretching indulgently into the new position.
[say]"Gods, then I’d better not stop you,"[/say] he whispers, glancing coyly over his shoulder at the dark, honey eyed demon stoking fire against his spine and whispering the sorts of sweet(?) nothings that Danta reserves for his most lascivious dreams. The chaos currently contained beneath his lover’s fragile composure is something the Maverick desperately wants to reach out for, to pluck at and unravel until they’re nothing but the slap of skin on skin and trembling, bitten out moans of desire.
But something more primal within him steadies that urge, as if knowing deep down that whatever fuckery he’s usually able to pull, Asta isn’t currently in possession of his usual patience and indulgence.
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
He could absolutely try to pull the strings of chaos that leak out of the butcher’s usually stoic exterior, but whether or not he succeeds is something only Dygra knows. He doesn’t have his usual patience, his usual cadence of being able to restrain himself and his own indulgences (which should spark some worry about what else the butcher could get into if given free reign). But for now, at least, his distraction is overwhelmingly exactly what he wants.
And that’s just the two of them in the warmth of their den, his possessiveness blooming like an invisible cage that’s stifling despite its invisibility. He meets Danta’s blues, his own dark and already full of as much desire as he thinks he physically can harbor, attentive in the movement of his fingertips and arms where he winds them down his spine and along his hips, to the curve of his ass and the brush of his tail that the butcher focuses on as he ensures not to pinch it when he surges forward. His chest sweeps against his lover’s back, warm like the fire might just burn out of his chest, where he presses equally heated kisses to the scars along his back.
It’s only a momentary notion, though, despite how much Asta wishes he had it in him for any pretense or warming up. He doesn’t, though, and a deeper portion of him hopes that the Maverick would forgive him for it, even as the low rumble of a sound vibrates out of his throat as he situates them just right, slipping a free hand down to stroke against his lover’s lower stomach, calloused fingers stretching out in a starburst motion to stroke along his cock just as the butcher presses in. The huff that leaves him is as close to satisfaction as he thinks he can muster right now, while his free hand rises to their headboard for the additional stability that for once he isn’t fully focused on.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
Hissing in a breath as he feels Asta surge against him, all dark fire and bruising touches, Danta soon realises that whatever role he has to play in this morning, it absolutely doesn’t involve further antagonising the butcher with any of his usual teasing. His head tilts to the side to welcome fiery kisses against his neck and shoulders, the Maverick forcing himself to relax - which ultimately serves to reward them both as Asta’s hips suddenly snap forward.
Feeling the stroke of wicked fingers against his cock at the same time as the butcher enters him, Danta’s cry of pleasure is mingled with a slight, delicious hint of pain, and it’s the sort of possessive brutality that he might have had to specifically ask for once, especially given the events of Longheat. [say]"Fuck, Asta–"[/say] he manages, fingers balling into the sheets, his back arching deliciously as he presses against each punishing thrust.
[say]"Fuck me like you mean it,"[/say] he grates out, despite the butcher already very much doing just that, and though the hand against their headboard is providing as much stability as possible, Danta won’t be surprised if the damned thing breaks clean into Asta’s hands.
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
Its sweet relief as it is only barely itching the scratch the butcher has woken up with. One he’s never experienced like this before. And he’s certainly not in the correct mindset to figure it out right this second. Not when he’s finally sunk into the Maverick, with the delight of the sound of the moans that leave his lover’s lips. “[say]Gods,[/say]” he grits out when he hears his name pour into the air.
The grating response earns a distracted, breathy laugh with each possessive snap of his hips, a branding sensation that he can’t stifle down as he grips onto the headboard with a hand heating up completely out of his control. The wood blackens and smokes under his touch, ignored for the way he continues to stroke Danta’s length, the way he curves to press messy and chaotic kisses against his spine. “[say]When do I not, darling?[/say]” It’s cocky, it’s arrogant, it’s part of the dark desire that burns through him, sick and sweet. Molasses in his veins, heated to run faster through his veins as if urged.
It is the early morning, though, and despite the surging desire in his bones, it’s like a rabbit he’s trying to chase with all the determination of his fyrhund shift, knowing it’ll come to an end sooner rather than later. He doesn’t know if it’ll fix this odd sensation within him, but for the moment it’s perfect. Each punishing rock of his hips into Danta’s frame, the way the smoke settles in little wisps that would thread into the sage and citrus scent of Danta’s sleep tossed blond crown. Each shift and shiver of his lover’s spine enough to spark more surging electricity through his veins as he continues to chase the feeling, punctuated with far less restrained groans and growls escaping his throat to the point that he’s wreathed in his shadows, a creature of the darkest pit of night.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
Anything Danta might have to say in response to his lover’s purring, cocky remark is quite literally fucked out of him, the Maverick unable to offer anything but stifled moans of pleasure and open gasps of untethered desire. Asta is all over him, within and without, and as the smell of smoke curls through the air around them, the entire place might be burning to the ground for all Danta cares. As long as the other man is still there to bring him to orgasm amid the ashes, it’s good enough for him.
Speaking of which, Asta is right, and the early morning utterly works against them both; as quickly as he’s been able to rise to the occasion, evidently Danta is going to succumb to it just as fast. [say]"Fuck–"[/say] The word escapes his lips as an urgent whisper, barely audible between each punishing thrust of the butcher’s hips. [say]"Asta, I–"[/say] The rest of his sentence is lost in a soft moan as he feels the butcher’s fingers tighten around his cock, heralding the beginning of the end.
Danta cums hard and fast with the butcher’s name on his lips and ecstasy whipcracking through his veins. Sinking hard back against the other man as if to offer as much resistance as possible for him to fuck against, there’s little in his mind other than the writhing shadows at his back and the burning handprint he can see - just - on the headboard in his periphery.
RE: the holy blade - Astaroth - 07-01-2025
It is unfortunate how quickly everything spirals. Usually he can ward it away, push it at a distance within reach to indulge in all the soft intricacies he’s included as of late. But this time is rushed, needy, greedy, full of wanting nothing more than to feel the relief even if he hates it when it comes at the same time. Even the burned hand imprinted in the headboard isn’t something that fully registers in the butcher’s mind, not as he feels the tension rake through his lover, when the tether snaps and Asta’s there to press in against the bliss post orgasm.
It’s that same blurring line that has him purring as Danta surges back against him, half broken up by the thrill it sparks in his lower back. The “[say]good boy,[/say]” that bursts unbidden from his chest writhed in scars and shadows only for Danta’s ears as it heralds his own end. And yet, much to his surprise, there isn’t a need for blood this time either as he curves perfectly against Danta’s spine, the end arriving with a thundering shiver and the self indulgent need to steal the bite halfway through the climax that breaks through him.
It’s surprisingly gentle when he nips at Danta’s shoulder, just enough to draw the self indulgent portion of his mind that’s still the typical version of himself, at odds with the flurry of desire that still sings through him like arrows in the wind. He finally releases the headboard to wrap both his arms around his lover’s middle, riding out the waves of pleasure that never quite nick the need still bone deep in the crevices of his shadow blanketed body.
RE: the holy blade - Dantalion - 07-01-2025
Wait, what? is what Danta would like to say, because whether or not Asta realises it, he’s definitely heard the words that grate from his chest and throat. Luckily for them both though, he’s busy with all that happens next, drawn back against the butcher’s chest and sinking back onto his knees as if to feel the thunder of his heartbeat as it vibrates through him. Breathing hard and reaching up with numb fingers to thread them loosely through Asta’s hair, Danta is aware only distantly that the scent of blood is mingling in with the smell of smoke and sex in the air, because it’s a lot less intense than usual.
[say]"Hey, you okay?"[/say] he almost whispers, his voice rough with exertion and the lingering fog of sleep, framed by a weak smile. He’s far from complaining - when would the Maverick ever - but at the same time he’s no stranger to the curious little routine they’ve built or the fact that this is wildly out of character for the butcher.
[say]"That was intense, even for us,"[/say] he adds with a hoarse, indulgent little laugh, turning his head to drop a stream of kisses against Asta’s dark hair and his temple.