mississippi boys, inner city boys

you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name

It’s the last thing he expects, to be honest. Because as he sinks into the slumber of his own that’s relatively benign, the butcher can be quite a light sleeper (without the sedatives on board). So when Danta starts to move, there’s the moment of his arms tightening as he’s pulled from his dreamless sleep, failed attempts until he manages to actually start to register what’s happening. And by that time, it’s with Danta already flailing, kicking out against his leg and scooting back toward the edge of the bed.

“Darling..?” His voice is rough with sleep but it’s quiet in his confusion, shifting to twist and try and snag at him to keep him from falling out of the bed when the blonde’s flailing again. He doesn’t have the dart ability that Danta and Charlie do, but he does have long gangly limbs that allow him to maneuver just so that Danta in his sleep won’t realize that the thing he’s backing up against is his scarred chest. He doesn’t grab him just yet, despite how much he wants to, trying to keep him from scooting around the bed to the floor any way he can. “Danta, love, you are okay. Everything is okay.” Comes the slightly louder, more awake tone, trying to wake him slowly but enough that he could register it, but realizing belatedly that his own voice might not even be helpful here, given their history.

Astaroth

fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart