// nothing is as simple, I worship, you're my temple //
“You can be a terrible liar at times, darling.” The butcher replies to Danta’s very poignant toothy grin. Regardless, he can’t help the low rumble of a laugh that leaves him, exasperated a touch more so when his lover continues and Asta ensures his sunglasses remain precisely pinned at the top of his head, nestled into dark hair smoothed back and antler-horns that glitter with their fire obsidian hues when he stands just right in the light. The very same that now dazzles on Danta’s finger. “Mm, I could not hear just how loud you were beneath all the blood in my ears.” He teases, his tail twisting again to smack playfully at Danta’s calf.
Saved by Flora’s interjection, though, the butcher turns already and flashes his too sharp smile at her. “I know.” He laments, matching Flora in the same amount of dramaticism he always loved to indulge in. “Alas we must go and fight a cockatrice so I may finally finish this quest.” He sighs, not at all mentioning how long it’s taken him between the high possessiveness of Leafchange last year, followed by the absolute killer of exhaustion that had lasted much of Deepfrost, and then Danta’s birthday in Flowrbirth.
Ahem, anyway. “All good things, Flora darling, never fear.” He chimes as his grin sharpens toward something equally as brilliant as Flora’s. The bacon is dropped back into the plate in perfect time for the butcher to snatch Danta’s hand and hold it into the light so that the ring can take in the same sunlight that his horns do, making it a perfect brilliant match. “He said yes.” He answers with a wink, awaiting the reaction with every inch of his ego held on a tightrope.
Saved by Flora’s interjection, though, the butcher turns already and flashes his too sharp smile at her. “I know.” He laments, matching Flora in the same amount of dramaticism he always loved to indulge in. “Alas we must go and fight a cockatrice so I may finally finish this quest.” He sighs, not at all mentioning how long it’s taken him between the high possessiveness of Leafchange last year, followed by the absolute killer of exhaustion that had lasted much of Deepfrost, and then Danta’s birthday in Flowrbirth.
Ahem, anyway. “All good things, Flora darling, never fear.” He chimes as his grin sharpens toward something equally as brilliant as Flora’s. The bacon is dropped back into the plate in perfect time for the butcher to snatch Danta’s hand and hold it into the light so that the ring can take in the same sunlight that his horns do, making it a perfect brilliant match. “He said yes.” He answers with a wink, awaiting the reaction with every inch of his ego held on a tightrope.
Astaroth
// and heaven, hold your gates open, all the hell we've been through //
