black magic preacher

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“You are the first that has ever tried.” To muzzle him, that is. Everyone else had been well aware of what he was like and either kept a wide berth or encouraged it in the Climb. All in all, it was either keeping away from his sharp teeth and charm or sending unsuspecting souls straight for it. As it turns out, though, Danta is claiming many of Astaroth’s firsts. He isn’t sure what that says about him, these days.

Tugging Danta’s wrist toward him he makes his commentary, scanning the tooth shaped bloody marks, smirking as he hears Danta’s retort. “A low simmer that remains even when satisfied?” He drawls before his lips part in a wider, crooked grin, dark eyes focusing on Danta’s face again as he hums a little laugh. “I am still allowed to complain about being sore, even if it isn’t that bad.” He purrs, fingers tightening with the strap to tighten a little on Danta’s wrist. “Which means I am allowed to complain while also still being fully functional.” A charming wink is shot his way, before he dips down to run his tongue along his own blood, smearing the tooth marks left behind amongst the sleeve of the fabric.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine