we show off our different scarlet letters
Smiling approvingly, though gods no small part of her wants to see just how tight a hold the butcher has on himself and what it might look like when it wavers—or at least she thinks she wants that, anyway—the queen nods.
The flaring of his nostrils has Flora sipping in a delighted breath as if she might taste the combination of pain and pleasure she was striving to coax from him as her thumb continued to forge a hard line forward behind which her clever fingers moved softly as if to scatter any lingering discomfort. "I don't like the feeling of being caught unprepared." She answers with a small raise of one shoulder before her eyes fall back towards the tapestry of torture she was trying to unmake.
Unless the butcher possessed the same sort of telepathy that Jack did, it'd be up to him to decide if what Flora did next was cruel for the pain it caused, was intentional for the pleasure it inspired, or if she simply had no idea of her own strength. Having already given the butcher a taste of what it was she had planned, after dipping her fingers into a bit more of the ointment she moved toward his shoulder where it looked like something lash-shaped had struck him again and again and again. Using the heel of one hand she pressed at its base, her other arm sliding around his shoulder as if for leverage, before she properly leaned into the movement. Her palm ground against the scarred flesh in an attempt to break up the fibrous tissues beneath in an unrelenting wave of force. Despite the way her body tensed around his as she focused, her expression remained relaxed, playful even as her eyes drifted between Asta's and the breaths hitching past his lips.
The flaring of his nostrils has Flora sipping in a delighted breath as if she might taste the combination of pain and pleasure she was striving to coax from him as her thumb continued to forge a hard line forward behind which her clever fingers moved softly as if to scatter any lingering discomfort. "I don't like the feeling of being caught unprepared." She answers with a small raise of one shoulder before her eyes fall back towards the tapestry of torture she was trying to unmake.
Unless the butcher possessed the same sort of telepathy that Jack did, it'd be up to him to decide if what Flora did next was cruel for the pain it caused, was intentional for the pleasure it inspired, or if she simply had no idea of her own strength. Having already given the butcher a taste of what it was she had planned, after dipping her fingers into a bit more of the ointment she moved toward his shoulder where it looked like something lash-shaped had struck him again and again and again. Using the heel of one hand she pressed at its base, her other arm sliding around his shoulder as if for leverage, before she properly leaned into the movement. Her palm ground against the scarred flesh in an attempt to break up the fibrous tissues beneath in an unrelenting wave of force. Despite the way her body tensed around his as she focused, her expression remained relaxed, playful even as her eyes drifted between Asta's and the breaths hitching past his lips.
