i don't belong among the angels // and baby that's just fine with me
“I agree.” Asta says with all the confidence in the world that it was a beautiful addition. He steps back and sets the bag aside, drawing up next to the Maverick now as he adds his own addition. Humming a note of agreement when he mentions keeping offerings simple, it’s with dark eyes of admiration that he watches the display take place, even as the tinge of iron paints the air an achingly familiar scent. It doesn’t last, not as the flame is created, crackling into the twigs and blood.
It draws Asta’s attention back toward the Maverick, alone with nothing but themselves and Dygra’s shrine, allowing the butcher the comfort of reaching up to brush his hand gently against the open wound to the back of Danta’s hand, helping to clean up a bit of the blood before he cocks his head a little. “It is always in style.” He hums, confident and content, before he lifts his finger to his lips and flashes a wink as he licks the blood off. “I had plenty of time to go a bit… over the top, I suppose.” You know, in his isolation but not quite to Danta’s slave isolation.
It draws Asta’s attention back toward the Maverick, alone with nothing but themselves and Dygra’s shrine, allowing the butcher the comfort of reaching up to brush his hand gently against the open wound to the back of Danta’s hand, helping to clean up a bit of the blood before he cocks his head a little. “It is always in style.” He hums, confident and content, before he lifts his finger to his lips and flashes a wink as he licks the blood off. “I had plenty of time to go a bit… over the top, I suppose.” You know, in his isolation but not quite to Danta’s slave isolation.
Astaroth
the things i did up there were high school // but now i'm going for my degree
