/// i'm uncontrollable, emotional, chaotically proportional
i'm visceral, reloadable
i'm visceral, reloadable
Astaroth has opinions as well – and all of them point to you’re not going to be come off better than me. Which, you know, is a difficult sell for the moment given that Asta has just woken up and a lot of it really resulted back from their pasts together. Perhaps there was a reason they were kept mostly separate from one another, aside from the antagonizing arguments they’d get into on occasion.
It's a tension, regardless, that Asta relishes in, his grin still just as wicked, inches away, a tight grip fully expecting to have Danta squeeze the fuck out of his hand. And when it doesn’t come, and the room around them still seems like they’re holding their breath, the Ancient can feel the pulse against his hands, and it’s enough for him to relax, smoothly letting Danta’s hand go (though absolutely letting his fingertips run along his skin every step of the way until they part), and lifts it to run through his hair to fix the rogue piece of dark hair that had fallen in his face in their tug of war.
“Mm, sure. To seal the deal.” He agrees, setting that cane back up on the edge, smoothly settling into the stool once more, tail waving behind him idly now that the tension is relieved, and he tilts his head toward a group of people that are still staring as if waiting for something more. “It’s polite to mind your own business, you know.” The underlying threat blooming in the tone of a purr, to which the group does precisely that – minds their own fucking business.
It's a tension, regardless, that Asta relishes in, his grin still just as wicked, inches away, a tight grip fully expecting to have Danta squeeze the fuck out of his hand. And when it doesn’t come, and the room around them still seems like they’re holding their breath, the Ancient can feel the pulse against his hands, and it’s enough for him to relax, smoothly letting Danta’s hand go (though absolutely letting his fingertips run along his skin every step of the way until they part), and lifts it to run through his hair to fix the rogue piece of dark hair that had fallen in his face in their tug of war.
“Mm, sure. To seal the deal.” He agrees, setting that cane back up on the edge, smoothly settling into the stool once more, tail waving behind him idly now that the tension is relieved, and he tilts his head toward a group of people that are still staring as if waiting for something more. “It’s polite to mind your own business, you know.” The underlying threat blooming in the tone of a purr, to which the group does precisely that – minds their own fucking business.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy ///
everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
