[SE] if I become your ghoul

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Trying is all we can ask." Danta chuckles. "Though I daresay we would need more than a bit of sage to do anything to purify either of us." As wicked as they come, neither Ancient can claim to be particularly saintly despite their lofty positions within the Hollowed Grounds. Perhaps they can attempt a cleansing on themselves when they go ghostbusting in their 'haunted' chimney, he supposes.

For now, though, as Asta takes the last of their candles and disappears beneath the mezzanine into their den, Danta busies himself pouring them a generous glass of wine each and wriggling out of his leather pants (because fuck those for relaxing), replacing them by a pair of deep red sweatpants that sit low on his hips.

Spotting the flicker of candlelight as Asta finishes his work, the Maverick ducks beneath the drapes and finds a smile on his face that he can't wipe away at the sight of the other man at the end of the bed, conjuring fire to wend through his hair. "Mm, I can already feel the spirits fucking off to bother someone else," he agrees with a chuckle, shifting to clamber onto the bed and directly into Asta's lap. (An interesting feat with a wine glass in each hand, but he manages it).

"Here's to protecting the Dusklight," he says, clinking his glass against the butcher's in a cheers.

Dantalion