// i am the righteous hand of god //
“That’s true.” He murmurs, though he doesn’t seem too pressed by anything right this second. Perhaps it’s the starlight still in his veins, the fact he feels better than ever even as it fades hour by hour. Whole and knitted back together, the butcher nearly sags into the touch as Danta’s hands loop around his middle.
But he pricks himself and the scent of iron is a brief and fleeting thing in the air.
As the Maverick pulls back, Astaroth blinks down at him as the small bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He notes the relief, drawing some for himself as warm lips find the small nick, not that Asta was going to complain about having the Theocrat’s attention. “Gods, yes. Of course, darling.” He breathes out his own relief, already starting to pull Danta with him toward the bed, angling his head enough to steal a proper kiss from the Maverick in the process. “You’re not allowed to die either, you know.”
But he pricks himself and the scent of iron is a brief and fleeting thing in the air.
As the Maverick pulls back, Astaroth blinks down at him as the small bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He notes the relief, drawing some for himself as warm lips find the small nick, not that Asta was going to complain about having the Theocrat’s attention. “Gods, yes. Of course, darling.” He breathes out his own relief, already starting to pull Danta with him toward the bed, angling his head enough to steal a proper kiss from the Maverick in the process. “You’re not allowed to die either, you know.”
Astaroth
// i am the devil that you forgot //
