Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
It’s an addicting feeling, honestly, one that has Asta eternally jealous that the Maverick is taking his usual job so seriously and so well. He can see and feel the way the air changes when he steps through, when the brief ow! is heard over the music and voices and cacophony of other sounds as he works.
His smile brightens over toward Danta when their eyes catch, lingering on those bright blues hidden behind slicked back blonde and the silver muzzle that adorns his lips. Such that he returns to his task if only to keep from letting the sudden surge of possessiveness spread out of his chest. He focuses on making this next drink, topping it with a dash of cinnamon and a flicker of flame for the hot mulled cider that has the original group of women and a few bystanders oohing and ahhing.
But it’s when Danta comes by the bar that really backfires – because Asta’s attention drifts entirely onto him, leaning toward the sharp and deliciously dangerous figure his lover cuts. “It is a power in itself.” He confirms with a low hum, his voice a touch more polite and back to his usual rumble before it drops and he flashes his lover a wink, reaching out with those jeweled fingers to brush against his sleeve as he passes.
It backfires when one of the women decides to take full advantage of Asta’s distraction, reaching up with lightning fast hands to snag his hand and angle it her way as if she was possessive over the butcher’s attention. And in his surprise, he swallows down the initial reaction which would make him a bite risk. She must be new here, after all. It was the only logical explanation. He lets his hand be guided until it lands on her skin in which he withdraws it immediately to her drunken whine. “Hey now, there’s no need to be upset. You have my attention, though we prefer you look and don’t touch.” It’s perhaps the nicest way the butcher’s ever told someone to not touch him. “Now what do you need?” He asks when she seems to relax and Danta would be the only one to see the soft little sigh that leaves him in relief.
His smile brightens over toward Danta when their eyes catch, lingering on those bright blues hidden behind slicked back blonde and the silver muzzle that adorns his lips. Such that he returns to his task if only to keep from letting the sudden surge of possessiveness spread out of his chest. He focuses on making this next drink, topping it with a dash of cinnamon and a flicker of flame for the hot mulled cider that has the original group of women and a few bystanders oohing and ahhing.
But it’s when Danta comes by the bar that really backfires – because Asta’s attention drifts entirely onto him, leaning toward the sharp and deliciously dangerous figure his lover cuts. “It is a power in itself.” He confirms with a low hum, his voice a touch more polite and back to his usual rumble before it drops and he flashes his lover a wink, reaching out with those jeweled fingers to brush against his sleeve as he passes.
It backfires when one of the women decides to take full advantage of Asta’s distraction, reaching up with lightning fast hands to snag his hand and angle it her way as if she was possessive over the butcher’s attention. And in his surprise, he swallows down the initial reaction which would make him a bite risk. She must be new here, after all. It was the only logical explanation. He lets his hand be guided until it lands on her skin in which he withdraws it immediately to her drunken whine. “Hey now, there’s no need to be upset. You have my attention, though we prefer you look and don’t touch.” It’s perhaps the nicest way the butcher’s ever told someone to not touch him. “Now what do you need?” He asks when she seems to relax and Danta would be the only one to see the soft little sigh that leaves him in relief.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
