// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
He realizes very quickly that he isn’t that interested in talking about kinks at the moment, and so he rolls his eyes to the mention of it and the tug on his hair, huffing another soft annoyed sigh before Danta’s head is pressing into the center of the top of his head where ordinarily, he would lose an eye.
There’s a certain sweetness to the comment made, though, even if the beginning has him a touch skeptical. His gaze lingers at the window, watching their entertainment fade, and so he drags his attention back toward the magician for a fleeting moment. “Good.” He decides, because that meant that there was more to him than just a menacing appearance. Oh, and the fact that having no horns meant that he was shorter now — a fact he doesn’t dwell on for too long. “I can try.” He hums, though he’s in agreement he doesn’t want to hurt Danta if it falls.
He is, however, completely unaware of what Danta’s thoughts are — but he is right. A bit younger, no horns or tail, no scarring aside from the minimal ones sustained growing up as a cannibal, and less wrinkles — this is precisely more Ferox than it is Astaroth, and as he glances up to ask the Maverick if he’s okay. “Mm?” He’s promptly shut up with the gentle and slow kiss that perhaps does more to ground him than everything else has so far. He leans into it, reaching up with one hand from under the blanket to curve around the back of Danta’s head, threading through the blonde locks and the curve of his horns in his own tender touch back.
There’s a certain sweetness to the comment made, though, even if the beginning has him a touch skeptical. His gaze lingers at the window, watching their entertainment fade, and so he drags his attention back toward the magician for a fleeting moment. “Good.” He decides, because that meant that there was more to him than just a menacing appearance. Oh, and the fact that having no horns meant that he was shorter now — a fact he doesn’t dwell on for too long. “I can try.” He hums, though he’s in agreement he doesn’t want to hurt Danta if it falls.
He is, however, completely unaware of what Danta’s thoughts are — but he is right. A bit younger, no horns or tail, no scarring aside from the minimal ones sustained growing up as a cannibal, and less wrinkles — this is precisely more Ferox than it is Astaroth, and as he glances up to ask the Maverick if he’s okay. “Mm?” He’s promptly shut up with the gentle and slow kiss that perhaps does more to ground him than everything else has so far. He leans into it, reaching up with one hand from under the blanket to curve around the back of Danta’s head, threading through the blonde locks and the curve of his horns in his own tender touch back.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
