I told you, you were brave

lord help anyone who stands in my way; for I am not merciful, and i am not kind
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was

It does surprise him when the glamour doesn’t reappear, though the butcher won’t complain. Not as they shift and readjust, as he cleans up the mess made between them and tugs the Maverick back in against his chest. He half expects to feel the sharp points of Danta’s diamond horns as he tucks his head in but is pleasantly surprised when there’s none to be found.

So he nuzzles his head in, resting it gently against the top of his head, arm tight around his shoulders, fingertips tracing a similar pattern to what Danta had traced into his own back, wondering if he’ll be able to parse it too (the initials, of course).

The silence is light and airy, comfortable and warm, and even as the blonde breaks it, Astaroth finds it a pleasant addition, nuzzling his bearded jaw against his crown. “Of course I’ll stay.” He vows quietly, his voice a touch hoarse. “Though I don’t believe the closet will fit all of my clothes.” The twist of the smile that forms can be felt as he continues to draw their initials into Danta’s back, tail sweeping over the blankets to wind around one of Danta’s legs comfortably before he snags at a blanket with his free hand to pull it up over them, trapping the heat within.

Astaroth

say your prayers now