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,
“As you should.” And if Danta were to get them tattooed on his ass if the mood struck, it would be perhaps one of the funniest but most apt things that would designate their relationship. But those thoughts end shortly with the familiarity and comfort of drifting away from the harder, more emotional truths, in favor for things that are more broad and less gut reactive.
He nuzzles in briefly to the scrunch of Danta’s nose, before the obnoxious smooch to his cheek has his own nose wrinkling, lips twisting into a crookedly sharp smile that reveals a fair amount of fangs while his hands drift up his lover’s spine all the way to his shoulders. “Liar.” The butcher purrs proudly, tail whipping playfully enough that it accidentally smacks Danta’s leg, sparking another rumble of a laugh from the butcher.
“Where is yours, darling?” He asks, like he isn’t trying to ensure they’re on the same playing field.
He nuzzles in briefly to the scrunch of Danta’s nose, before the obnoxious smooch to his cheek has his own nose wrinkling, lips twisting into a crookedly sharp smile that reveals a fair amount of fangs while his hands drift up his lover’s spine all the way to his shoulders. “Liar.” The butcher purrs proudly, tail whipping playfully enough that it accidentally smacks Danta’s leg, sparking another rumble of a laugh from the butcher.
“Where is yours, darling?” He asks, like he isn’t trying to ensure they’re on the same playing field.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
