my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,
come now, bite through these wires,
“It was… Essentially the precursor to the Sparkbird’s Nest.” The butcher admits when he withdraws from the kiss, his fingers dancing along the golden threads of his hair as it brushes against his neck. It’s a warm smile that meets the self deprecating smile as Danta conveys gratitude for Flora before snatching another kiss – which the butcher sighs into a touch relieved. “Yes. Honestly.” The butcher hums softly, wondering if it was too much to send her yet another gift of gratitude for allowing them both to have this.
As for the next truth or dare, the butcher concedes for Danta’s original plan – not having to think about it in the slightest. “Truth.” He hums, settling in and letting his fingers trail along his lover’s shoulder and arm that’s wound around his own, light little playful tip-tapping to see what might have been locked behind his lips from the previous round.
As for the next truth or dare, the butcher concedes for Danta’s original plan – not having to think about it in the slightest. “Truth.” He hums, settling in and letting his fingers trail along his lover’s shoulder and arm that’s wound around his own, light little playful tip-tapping to see what might have been locked behind his lips from the previous round.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
