Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
“It is absolutely perfect, darling.” The butcher purrs contently, and with the addition of bone and gemstones to make the candles flicker all kinds of different rainbow hues within their den-confines, it would be almost as if they’ve taken a portion of the bonfire inside with them. A little homage to Danta, as it were, given that he wasn’t around for the crafting of it. But he does adore it all the same.
As Danta chases after the kiss, the butcher does take a small amount of pity and leans in to offer a chaste one before the goodies are revealed – and it’s worth it, in his opinion, leaning his hip into the touch that continues on his vest even while his arms are busy revealing each wonderful addition to their celebration.
A snort slips past his lips as he’s jostled slightly by the nudge of the Maverick’s hip, letting him peer at the vertebrae he’d snagged just before he plays his full hand. “I have indeed.” He agrees, sharp grin turning a touch sharper to hear Danta’s content sigh. And rather than dive straight into it, he winds his arm around the Maverick’s side, up and under the loose fishnet sweater monstrosity that the blonde wears, running his fingertips along the Theocrat’s lower back. “I got the impression that they thought I might have died, it has been so long.” He laments, head tilting from his dramatics, letting the lock of hair come loose from his horns as he tilts his grin toward the Maverick. “They had a stockpile awaiting my return, at least.” Gesturing to the vertebrae and the rest of the bone-goods, the butcher also sighs contently.
“You have also been busy, though.” Because he doesn’t want to steal the show, of course, prolonging any indulgence to look around the room once more to see what had all changed in the span of him wakening and slipping away into the dark hours of the morning.
As Danta chases after the kiss, the butcher does take a small amount of pity and leans in to offer a chaste one before the goodies are revealed – and it’s worth it, in his opinion, leaning his hip into the touch that continues on his vest even while his arms are busy revealing each wonderful addition to their celebration.
A snort slips past his lips as he’s jostled slightly by the nudge of the Maverick’s hip, letting him peer at the vertebrae he’d snagged just before he plays his full hand. “I have indeed.” He agrees, sharp grin turning a touch sharper to hear Danta’s content sigh. And rather than dive straight into it, he winds his arm around the Maverick’s side, up and under the loose fishnet sweater monstrosity that the blonde wears, running his fingertips along the Theocrat’s lower back. “I got the impression that they thought I might have died, it has been so long.” He laments, head tilting from his dramatics, letting the lock of hair come loose from his horns as he tilts his grin toward the Maverick. “They had a stockpile awaiting my return, at least.” Gesturing to the vertebrae and the rest of the bone-goods, the butcher also sighs contently.
“You have also been busy, though.” Because he doesn’t want to steal the show, of course, prolonging any indulgence to look around the room once more to see what had all changed in the span of him wakening and slipping away into the dark hours of the morning.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
