in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
"Or the rum fountain. I think our aesthetic would suit a wine fountain more, though." Red wine spraying from a grotesque set of marble statues? Count Danta in. He's just about finished arranging Asta's hair so it doesn't tangle around the new additions in his ears when he feels the butcher's hands press oh-so-possessively over his body, the Maverick raising his eyebrows curiously but of course not complaining in the least.
"Oh, I adore it, obviously--" Cut off by the way Asta pins him with his stare, it's Danta's turn for his breath to hitch in his throat, the theocrat caught and drowning in mahogany eyes lined with smoke and fire. "Fuck, you look good," he mumbles, the colour high in his cheeks as he leans in to kiss the inevitable smile away from Asta's lips, relishing the feel of his wandering fingers.
"Oh, I adore it, obviously--" Cut off by the way Asta pins him with his stare, it's Danta's turn for his breath to hitch in his throat, the theocrat caught and drowning in mahogany eyes lined with smoke and fire. "Fuck, you look good," he mumbles, the colour high in his cheeks as he leans in to kiss the inevitable smile away from Asta's lips, relishing the feel of his wandering fingers.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
