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+---- Thread: fuck that shit let's start a riot (/showthread.php?tid=10602)
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-22-2025
[say]"So you should - I'm shit at camping,"[/say] Danta informs his beau - much to absolutely no one's surprise, he imagines. Falling quiet to enjoy their (very late) tea and dinner, the Maverick is busy drizzling a hunk of bread and cheese with honey when Asta speaks again, the easy admission in his roughened accent bringing heat to his cheeks all over again. [say]"Not even a broken collarbone can make you any less of a charmer, I see,"[/say] he drawls, letting his free hand fall to rest upon Asta's knee.
Carefully rolling his shoulders - the painkilers are starting to take the edge off, he's delighted to note - Danta's movements are much less stiff as he shifts a little closer to the other man. [say]"Well, whatever does happen, we'll get through it. We always do,"[/say] he tells him. [say]"I'd suggest we didn't sleep together if you were that worried, but I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to go to bed without you. It's a risk I'm willing to take for you, sorry."[/say] He winks.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-22-2025
“[say]It’s one thing I’m quite good at.[/say]” He boasts proudly once he’s swallowed the bite of food, taking a note from Danta’s choice and turning his attention to a piece of bread, dipping it into a mixture of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. His dark gaze sneaks over to glance at his lover when he tests his shoulders out and he’s quite pleased to see him in less pain from it.
Everything had worked so far, thankfully.
Snorting a little under his breath, Asta swallows down the next bite to sip from the steaming tea. “[say]It’s why I didn’t suggest it. I figured you’d need it.[/say]” He admits, before he flashes a wink back toward the Maverick and settles in. He takes a fair amount more food down and chases it with the rest of the tea before he seems to settle, eyeing the sedative. “[say]You need to sleep soon.[/say]” He murmurs, as if that’s the reasoning he’s just downed everything so quickly.
Replacing it with the sedative, he glances over at Danta with a raised brow.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-22-2025
[say]"Oh, Asta - there's more than one thing you're quite good at,"[/say] Danta assures the other man with a devilish smile, letting his thumb brush across his knee as he finishes with his food and tea, more than sated enough to be ready for bed. Especially as the painkillers continue to do their work, easing the tension from his body and making it easier to breathe and sit and exist. He's also of the opinion that he's not the only one who needs to sleep tucked close against his favourite person, but he opts not to mention that part.
Nodding in gentle agreement, the Maverick reaches for the muzzle with a laughable amount of ease, Danta grinning to himself as he settles back and nods towards the butcher. [say]"I'm ready when you are,"[/say] he says, waiting until he's downed the sedative and is content with the dose before he reaches out to carefully and meticulously set the muzzle in place, each clasp and strap double-checked to his satisfaction.
[say]"Alright,"[/say] he says, carefully easing himself to his feet. [say]"Let's go to bed and not leave this room for days."[/say]
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-22-2025
Relishing quietly in the touch of Danta’s thumb across the top of his knee, the butcher snorts to find the devilish smile on his lover’s face. “[say]I didn’t say it was the only thing I was good at.[/say]” He objects, the carefree looseness of Ferrox warping the words in a sharper, deeper, more brutalesque sound. One that he pays little mind to as he keeps the other part of him buried deep below.
He's right to assume that Asta needs him just as much as Danta needs him to sleep, and if he thought he could get away with an all nighter, he might have given it a try. But he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, one that he wouldn’t be able to manage without copious amounts of caffeinated tea or coffee and keeping himself busy. Which is a challenge when he only has one hand that he can use.
So sleep is the obvious choice, and one he aims for to get it over with – choosing to rip the bandaid off as he downs his tea and finishes the food, taking the sedative (the correct amount given the instruction, if not a smidge more just to be extra sure he didn’t tear it off in his sleep), and like a well trained dog he settles in to let Danta place the muzzle into place, remaining so the straps can be double checked.
“[say]Sounds like a great plan.[/say]” He murmurs, standing after Danta and offering his arm – still a smidge of that gentleman butcher left within him. And only when they’re stable and on their feet does the butcher ensure that Danta is settled into the bed, comfortable and without as much pain as possible, before he too sheds the rest of his clothes to slip under the furs and blankets to join him. Without Danta being able to sleep on his back and Asta unable to sleep on his side, he opts for a position similarly to the one they’d had when Danta had slipped into his bed, draping his arm into the soft space of his lower back and tangling his tail with the Maverick’s leg, ensuring that they can touch and radiate heat amongst one another. Another step further has him lowering the lights, nuzzling his cold, metal blocked cheek against the blonde’s crown before he withdraws. “[say]Sleep well, love.[/say]” He murmurs softly, already feeling his body try to fight the sedative.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-23-2025
Humming his acknowledgement at that - he might still be concerned by the way Asta has buried himself under layers of his past personality, but that doesn't make the butcher any less suave or correct in his comments - Danta slips his arm into his lover's so they can make their way to bed. Leaning on him more out of comfort now than necessity, he can already feel himself struggling to stay awake and he's not taken any sedatives; kicking off his shoes and wriggling out of his pants, he's already gotten himself very comfortable in bed by the time Asta joins him.
They arrange themselves as best they're able, but with painkillers flooding his system and having practiced in the infirmary, it's relatively easy for Danta to curl himself against the other man, leaving his glamour up so he can nuzzle into the crook of his neck. (All the better to keep his teeth away from his throat, my dear). [say]"Gods, you're so comfortable,"[/say] he mumbles, winding his arms around him as best he's able to keep him clutched close.
[say]"I'll try. And you just... sleep,"[/say] he suggests, smiling just a little and letting his fingers stroke along the butcher's bare skin in slow passes than only stop as he gives up the fight for consciousness and drops into a deep and necessary slumber.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-23-2025
“[say]Youuuu make an amazing blanket.[/say]” Purring softly, the butcher nestles in, thankful for the drop of the glamour so that he can press his masked face in harder against Danta’s golden crown. His body continues to fight the sedative, going between a mix of tension and a quiet panic. A soft hum follows the way his body continues to bounce around the potentials, settling into the comfort of the mask on his face and trying to utilize that as a way of providing himself the comfort that he should be okay while he sleeps.
Update: he isn’t.
Eventually his body gives up the fight and he sinks into his sedated sleep, unable to stay awake any longer. They have the mercy of it having been at least six or seven hours before the butcher stirs — enough that the deepest of the sedative has begun to wear off. It leaves him in that awful limbo of being so asleep he doesn’t dream and being “awake” enough to let the dark creativity of his mind get to work.
Initially, there’s some stirring, a low thrum of a sound akin to a whine — a sound far more fitting of his soul shift than the man himself — but it lingers nonetheless. The sound stops in a pitched end, which precedes the short and rough inhales of breath, sharp as if in pain (which he is, but not in the way the nightmare would have him think).
He moves, untangling himself from Danta, away from feeling so smothered. And whispered there along the heavy panting breaths, the butcher’s Whitebrim accent is in full force, emitting a barely there “[say]nnnnnno, nonono,[/say]” where he makes the mistake of not realizing the pain is radiating from his shoulder and collarbone, and it makes a sickening crunching sound as the sling is forgone in lieu of reaching up to get the muzzle off his face, suddenly trembling from the pain but fighting on through it anyway as he realizes only one hand seems to work in this dream-not-dream. The other feels numb, or maybe that’s the pain blotting out everything else.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-23-2025
It's a long and blessed stretch of sleep - more than he's used to, honestly, when it's been this sort of a day - such that as Asta begins to stir, it's almost a gentle awakening for Danta. Blinking his eyes open as the other man scrambles away from him, he hums a soft sound in the back of his throat, thinking at first that the butcher is slipping out of bed to go and get water or more medicine.
He's put to rights almost instantly, of course, adrenaline shooting through him at the keening whine that hits the air, at the sickening and audible crunch of Asta's broken shoulder as his hands fly towards the muzzle. [say]"Whoa, hey--"[/say] Already shifting to get an arm beneath him to half sit up, Danta is at least familiar with this trajectory of Asta's nightmares, and he reaches out with a wince to try and coax his bad arm down away from the muzzle.
[say]"Asta, it's me,"[/say] he says, hoping to pitch his voice loud and clear enough to get through the lingering layer of sedatives; normally he'd never try to touch the butcher in this state, knowing better, but he has no idea what further damage he might be doing to himself, such that it's escaped his thoughts completely that he might simply rip the muzzle away.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-23-2025
The hand is numb, his arm feeling both heavy and like nothing but sharp sinking pain as he scrambles trying to hook his fingers into the metal. The panic continues, even as Danta’s words don’t register to him. They’re buried beneath everything else in his head — the blurred faces, scowling and laughing, morphing to large crows with razor sharp beaks.
And then, Danta touches him, and it’s with a force of which the Maverick has never seen that the butcher flinches, the bed jumping under the movement. His one good hand simply grabs the front of the muzzle and he pulls hard, straps be damned, tearing it from his face in a moment of panicked adrenaline granting him additional strength in favor for getting the fuck out of here.
Ah, but at his bare bones, he was built for survival and preservation. And pain is forgotten for the moment when he tosses the muzzle to the end of the bed, whirling on Danta faster than it should seem possible, and grabs the extended arm with a tight grip, twisting like a feral animal as he sinks his teeth into the muscled flesh of his lover’s arm, harder than he’s ever bit him before.
He doesn’t pull away, and despite it being the hardest bite, it’s still a warning. A threat.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-23-2025
It all happens so sickeningly quickly, and perhaps if he'd been at his best, he might have been able to scramble back in time. Alas, it's with his eyes widening in shock to see Asta simply tear the muzzle away (and don't get him wrong - in any other circumstance it would be fucking hot) that Danta's hand freezes in its movements; another huge error in judgement.
[say]"Asta, wh--"[/say] He moves so quickly that the Maverick hasn't a hope of dodging him, the other man's fingers seizing around his forearm like a vice. And gods, Danta doesn't even really register what's happened at first, so sharp are the butcher's teeth, and it's only the abrupt tang of blood in the air and the way it begins to drip in a steady stream down towards his elbow and onto the sheets that he realises the situation.
Knowing better than to move too quickly or jerk away, Danta inhales a slow breath and releases it on a long and shaky exhale. He gives it a couple of agonising seconds before moving carefully closer rather than away, his arm limp in the other man's grip. [say]"Asta? I need you to let go of me, please,"[/say] he tells him, gently but firmly, his other hand reaching out to slip through his lover's dark hair with the utmost affection, though it's poised to tighten there and hold him at bay at the slightest sign of further violence.
[say]"You're having a nightmare, but you're safe. I promise, just come back to me and we'll figure the rest out."[/say]
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-23-2025
Tail lashing, he’s perfectly still despite how sunk into the bite he is. A warning as it may be, the feral, not really there butcher, doesn’t quite register what’s happening. It’s when the tang of iron hits, warm and sweet and successful in the snap that his jaw twitches to feel the hands thread through his hair. A gentle touch. One that, along with the blood, starts to pull him out of it.
When he moves closer, those teeth twitch again, retracting slowly as he loosens the hold he has on the Maverick’s arm. Realization hits, slowly at first, and then the pain sets in. Blood streams from Danta’s arm and down Asta’s mouth into the beard, and there’s a sheen of tears on his cheeks he doesn’t remember happening.
But he withdraws, slowly at first, and then suddenly. Enough that it seems he’s trying to pull away, but Danta’s hand is still tight in his hair. “[say]Fuck, shit, shit, Danta,[/say]” he gasps, choking on the sharp breath and blood he inhales, moving his arm slightly to try and steady himself before the pain radiates so sharply a grunt of pain escapes him. Another flurry of those tears blur his vision, streaking down his cheeks as he breathes heavier and faster. “[say]I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—[/say]” He’s pleading. Begging.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-23-2025
Danta's breath seems to shudder out of him all at once as the butcher's teeth slowly retract from his arm, his fingers flexing a few times despite the fresh pulse of blood it causes, making sure that all the muscles and tendons are in order. [say]"Thank you,"[/say] he says gently, just in case Asta is still too far gone in his dream to realise what he's done. [say]"It's okay now. We can - hey--"[/say]
Despite the spasm of pain between his shoulders from twisting and moving in a way his injury strongly protests, Danta doesn't pull away - and he doesn't plan to let Asta go anywhere either. [say]"Asta..."[/say] He all but invades the other man's space to clutch him closer, careful of the shoulder he's almost certainly re-broken in his attempts to get free. [say]"It isn't your fault. It isn't,"[/say] he insists, the words whispered against his dark hair, something painful wrenching in his chest to see the tears streaking the other man's cheeks through the blood.
[say]"I should have left you be. I know better, but I was stupid - this isn't on you,"[/say] he tells him firmly, leaning back against the headboard despite whatever grumbles of discomfort it might cause from his back. [say]"Sit with me. Breathe. We're okay."[/say]
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-23-2025
He hears the gentle placating tones as if he’s still in the slumber. He isn’t, though, and something about the softness of it despite everything he’s done, it has the butcher somehow worse off. Panicking despite the taste of blood and salt in his mouth, he feels the pain radiating tenfold in his mind, reverberating in ways that ensure he can never catch his breath.
And rather than push him away, Danta’s still bleeding as he pulls him in and Asta freezes, tense like stone, not touching his lover as he’s embraced and as the blonde’s fingers thread through his dark hair. He seems so, so still, while the only thing that seems to prove he’s there is the shake of his tremble.
“[say]I shouldn’t… I knew better. I knew better.[/say]” He gasps as he slowly starts to succumb, crumbling into Danta’s embrace as the pain pushes to the forefront of his mind. “[say]You’re not.. not okay. You’re bleeding. I— I did it.[/say]” He gasps out, trembling from the pain and his own emotional rawness, burying his face into Danta’s chest, as a fresh wave of too hot tears fall onto his bare skin.
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Dantalion - 01-23-2025
[say]"You couldn't have known this would happen. Neither of us could,"[/say] Danta whispers, hushing him softly and caring very little for the blood that has stained their sheets and continues to coat his forearm and drip into their lap. It's a deep wound - a very deep wound, he'll come to find out - but it hasn't hit anything major and it isn't going to kill him, and sadly enough, he's been through worse in his life.
Carefully manoeuvring them so, if nothing else, he might settle Asta's bad arm against him where he can't move and injure it further, he presses the first of what will be many, many kisses against his dark hair. [say]"You did,"[/say] he agrees gently, not in the habit of trying to hide or shy away from the things both of them have done. [say]"But you let me go when I asked you to as well."[/say]
Reaching up with that same bloody hand to wipe at Asta's wet cheeks (streaking them red instead, unfortunately), he turns his arm up so they might both survey the wound. [say]"Look,"[/say] he urges him softly. It's a brutal bite, one that will leave an equally brutal scar and will take its time in the healing, but it isn't the end of the world. [say]"It will heal, and I'm still in one piece. And I've got you now. It'll be okay."[/say]
RE: fuck that shit let's start a riot - Astaroth - 01-23-2025
He hates this. He hates being the one needing to be coddled when he fucks up. He hates how easy it is for Danta to soothe him and tell him it’s okay when it’s very clearly not. He hates feeling like gems uncontrollable.
But that’s why he’d gone so long solitary. He’d chosen it. It was easier, even if he was touch starved and an asshole because of it. It was easy. The only person he could hurt was himself and never those he actually cared about.
He continues to gasp, dark eyes shut so tight against the pain and the tears he stubbornly can’t stop. Of course he’d let him go when asked, because he was awake enough to, but had he not been? What then?
They’ll likely never know if Asta had any say in it.
Tears are smeared with blood and Asta trembles under the touch, forcing himself to look at the wound, and without the sling he tries to lift his left hand to cradle Danta’s arm. It’s numb and crunchy again and he inhales sharply from the pain, instead limply pressing into Danta to see the deep wound.
“[say]It’s bad, Danta.[/say]” He whispers— hiccups. “[say]I’m sorry.[/say]” He gets out again in shudders breath. “[say]Fucking hell.[/say]”