I'm where the spiders go

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

It’s two sides of a coin. Where Asta’s carnage is methodical and calculating, Danta’s are spontaneous chaos. But at the end of the day, it ends with the same result. Both of them bloody and content, like happy cats after a long hunt of chasing that damn mouse around the barn. Content, fat, purring. The last of which, the butcher is only minutes away from doing himself in his quiet reverence, so trapped in it that he doesn’t hear Danta’s approach. Doesn’t see his approach.

All he knows is that suddenly his lover’s sinking into his lap with a kiss pressed to his lips, and without any ounce of hesitation like there otherwise might be when it came to being caught unaware, the butcher’s arms slip around him int urn, pressing into the kiss with his eyes still closed, humming a soft content note into the press of their lips. He breaks after a moment, the tang of iron in the air vibrant, as is the mess coating his hands and clothes, the same that splatters across their mirroring gold chains and the bones that hang from Danta’s chest.

He surges forward after a moment, pressing Danta’s back against the still warm carcass of the bear, seeking another deep kiss, pushing each and every reverence into his lover, worshipping and taking as much as he can from his Theocrat.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine