Astaroth
// so sip the gossip, drink 'til you choke. sip the gossip, burn down your throat //
It’s that tingling static that bolsters the Butcher as he starts to concede into it, draped over the Maverick as he is, fire extinguished and far more comfortable than he has any right to be. The blood has begun to dry, and they’re both quite a mess that would need either a shower or a fire bath to rid themselves of, but for now the Butcher is content to sit here and hold Danta close.
His tail reluctantly loosens its hold around his lover’s legs, sweeping across the bed but with less vigor than it might have had, had his fyrhund shift still been in his soul. As it turns out, even Dygra hadn’t thought that the shift accurately described his soul shift as much as the Feirw has become. Still, he shivers lightly to feel Danta’s fingers trail down his dark hair along his neck and back and he shifts just enough to wrap both of his arms around Danta’s head, propping his chin up on his fiance’s chest to look up at him with satisfied dark eyes.
“Is that so?” He asks, fingertips playing with the ends of the longest portion of his golden hair, managing a small, bloodstained smirk. He’d gladly do it again later whenever Danta was up for it, with zero qualms over it in fact. “I had to see what I was capable of as a fresh demigod, of course.” He waggles his brows playfully, before he’s tilting his head to press another kiss to his collarbone.
His tail reluctantly loosens its hold around his lover’s legs, sweeping across the bed but with less vigor than it might have had, had his fyrhund shift still been in his soul. As it turns out, even Dygra hadn’t thought that the shift accurately described his soul shift as much as the Feirw has become. Still, he shivers lightly to feel Danta’s fingers trail down his dark hair along his neck and back and he shifts just enough to wrap both of his arms around Danta’s head, propping his chin up on his fiance’s chest to look up at him with satisfied dark eyes.
“Is that so?” He asks, fingertips playing with the ends of the longest portion of his golden hair, managing a small, bloodstained smirk. He’d gladly do it again later whenever Danta was up for it, with zero qualms over it in fact. “I had to see what I was capable of as a fresh demigod, of course.” He waggles his brows playfully, before he’s tilting his head to press another kiss to his collarbone.
// you're not iconic, you are just like them all. don't act like you don't know //
