// there's a reason that they hate me, a reason that they need me //
“If they think I am bad now, wait until they see me then.” The butcher playfully hums, a tone not unlike a threat in more ways than one. The butcher would likely be a bridezilla if Caido harbored those, ensuring that when it came to everyone else but himself and his fiancé, that it would have to be perfect.
But the scheming falters, shifting toward appreciation and acceptance for Danta’s memory, regardless of whether or not its right. And to the answer of agreement that it had not been noted anywhere he could find, the butcher doesn’t mind making it up as they go. So much so that when Danta’s surprise graces his devastatingly handsome face, the butcher’s smile blooms brighter in lieu of it. “Darling,” the butcher starts, pinning him with his dark gaze of cheshire impishness, “who is going to tell us if we’re wrong?” Another pause as the smile grows more mischievous. “who would dare?” Raising a brow in the threat that thrums his voice, the butcher settles back, and despite the efforts of Danta’s fingers trying to curl his hair, it remains straight as it slips between his fingers.
“I am sure darling Charlie would not mind hosting it there.” He agrees softly, warm to the idea even more so with Danta’s own agreement. “Spiritual as it is, too, and perhaps by then the fountain shall be finished.” So even more reason to decide on the Temple for the afterparty.
But the scheming falters, shifting toward appreciation and acceptance for Danta’s memory, regardless of whether or not its right. And to the answer of agreement that it had not been noted anywhere he could find, the butcher doesn’t mind making it up as they go. So much so that when Danta’s surprise graces his devastatingly handsome face, the butcher’s smile blooms brighter in lieu of it. “Darling,” the butcher starts, pinning him with his dark gaze of cheshire impishness, “who is going to tell us if we’re wrong?” Another pause as the smile grows more mischievous. “who would dare?” Raising a brow in the threat that thrums his voice, the butcher settles back, and despite the efforts of Danta’s fingers trying to curl his hair, it remains straight as it slips between his fingers.
“I am sure darling Charlie would not mind hosting it there.” He agrees softly, warm to the idea even more so with Danta’s own agreement. “Spiritual as it is, too, and perhaps by then the fountain shall be finished.” So even more reason to decide on the Temple for the afterparty.
Astaroth
// there's a reason to enslave me and a reason to defeat me //
