Dantalion
be love in its disrepute, scorches the hillside and salts every root
"You are all very lucky that I adore surprises," Danta drawls, glancing between Charlie, Thalassa and Astaroth as if they've all conspired to keep this sexy-cake-adventure from him on purpose. Leaning further into the cradle of Asta's arm, he discards the wooden meat skewer into the brazier to let it burn and collects another drink on offer, clearly considering himself to be far too sober, still, for this birthday celebration.
Of course, being sober means nothing when the air suddenly becomes charged with heat and sensuality, and Danta's tail whipcracks out automatically at the surge of vice and arousal that floods the party. He glances towards where the others' eyes are drawn, catching sight of what can only be Frey's sexual aspect, and although his gaze lands on the deity for a just second before they disappear again, it's enough to catch sight of them through the lens of his own desire. Shadow and blood and fire obsidian are there only for a moment, wrapped in the decadence of a silk suit, but it's enough to bring heat flooding through his body.
"Whatever it was, it was hot," he purrs, watching the space as if the deity might reappear if he wants it enough, before he's turning to bat the cocktail directly out of Asta's hands so he can draw him down and against his waiting lips. "Remind me to thank Flora for that gift later. For now, cake can wait." And other things certainly can't.
Of course, being sober means nothing when the air suddenly becomes charged with heat and sensuality, and Danta's tail whipcracks out automatically at the surge of vice and arousal that floods the party. He glances towards where the others' eyes are drawn, catching sight of what can only be Frey's sexual aspect, and although his gaze lands on the deity for a just second before they disappear again, it's enough to catch sight of them through the lens of his own desire. Shadow and blood and fire obsidian are there only for a moment, wrapped in the decadence of a silk suit, but it's enough to bring heat flooding through his body.
"Whatever it was, it was hot," he purrs, watching the space as if the deity might reappear if he wants it enough, before he's turning to bat the cocktail directly out of Asta's hands so he can draw him down and against his waiting lips. "Remind me to thank Flora for that gift later. For now, cake can wait." And other things certainly can't.
be there and just as you stand, or be like the rose that you hold in your hand
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
