now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence
won't accept your silence
The second Danta’s drawn back against him, the butcher’s arms slip around him, interlocking behind him to keep them from parting again, tilting his head enough to allocate room for Danta’s horns to not pierce. Though it isn’t like the butcher would care much, between the elation and exhaustion, leading to an almost manic improvement of his mood. “It is okay, darling. It has been.. but it’s over now.” He hums softly as he lets his hands move, stroking idle patterns against Danta’s spine.
It’s with a cocky smirk that he meets his lover’s gaze and the words that leave him, decisive as he begins to agree before his lips are caught in a soft and very much needed kiss, one the butcher happily indulges in. He presses into it enough for Danta to get his shirt unbuttoned, leaning forward to slip out of it as soon as he’s able to, before withdrawing while his lungs burn. “I missed you.” Comes the quiet admission, hands lifting to stroke at Danta’s face, warm fingertips skating along his sharp jawline and cheekbones, dark eyes glittering with appreciation and understanding for how difficult this has been. “And I am so tired. I feel as if I have not slept in a year, at the very least.” Comes the quiet, yet no less dramatic, whine.
It’s with a cocky smirk that he meets his lover’s gaze and the words that leave him, decisive as he begins to agree before his lips are caught in a soft and very much needed kiss, one the butcher happily indulges in. He presses into it enough for Danta to get his shirt unbuttoned, leaning forward to slip out of it as soon as he’s able to, before withdrawing while his lungs burn. “I missed you.” Comes the quiet admission, hands lifting to stroke at Danta’s face, warm fingertips skating along his sharp jawline and cheekbones, dark eyes glittering with appreciation and understanding for how difficult this has been. “And I am so tired. I feel as if I have not slept in a year, at the very least.” Comes the quiet, yet no less dramatic, whine.
Astaroth
beg me for forgiveness
