mississippi boys, inner city boys

// I thought of angels choking on their halos //

"Eh, aren't white dragons a lot more difficult to spot? And a lot harder to kill?" Danta asks, furrowing his brow. "We hear enough black dragons in The Climb. I figured they were just the same, except white and frosty." Which is yet another reason why he doesn't think he'd want to run into one. At least an ursur would be warm if he succeeded in killng it - and he might have an easier time of it, too. Only experience would really tell, though.

Happy to be considered stellar in any sense of the word, not least by Asta, the Maverick relaxes fully into the other man's arms, his tail curling gently about them, the blankets feeling suddenly warmer and heavier as he starts to consider sleep at last. "The first of many if I have anything to say about it," he agrees, raising his eyebrows at the butcher's last comment, only for a soft laugh to rumble up in his chest.

"Don't be - it was pretty funny, now that I've had a chance to get over myself," he says, leaning in to kiss the side of Asta's neck before burying his face and letting out a long sigh. "If I fall asleep, I'll say goodnight now," he mumbles, his voice muffled by the other man.

Dantalion

// get them drunk on rose water //