all the blood and the dust

// no one wants a half remembered tragedy. You must know the width of the knife //

Keeping him busy is probably the best way to avoid any unintentional casualties, and for that the butcher is quietly grateful even if it meant having to be around a variety of people. He’d do his best to keep his teeth to himself, but the blessed thing about baby showers was that it would be clear to him that nobody was there to steal Danta away from him. So perhaps he can learn to let his guard down a little (once it goes back into full swing upon returning to the Grounds).

For now, though, he’s exhausted and content and warm – the Fierw sated in his soul after having quite a good showing at the Boneyard not that long ago, and being able to get some of it out this time of year seems to have really helped. That and the warm press of his fiance’s fingertips under the hem of his shirt, his back expanding a touch as he takes a long and indulgent deep breath. “Ah ha, see?” The butcher points out, a warm laugh slipping from his lips as he’s clutched closer, his arms deciding to settle around Danta’s head, fingertips of one hand curling strands of gold while the other hand’s thumb brushes gentle strokes along the shaved portion of his hair. “Perhaps she realizes it more than we do and decided to save us from the horrifying opportunity?” He suggests with another warm laugh, before he’s bullying his way into getting Danta to flatten again slightly.

Astaroth

// and how it ruined you. Name the organs it kissed //