you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
Whether it’s believable or not, time would tell. For now, though, the butcher believes it wholeheartedly, because so long as the nightmares remain while sleeping it’s better than dealing with them in the day to day. He’d gladly lay there and hold him until they’re over, because they’d end at some point.
Keeping him close and sharing the radiating heat between the two of them, Astaroth lets a smile kick up on his face as Danta’s laugh is heard. “A shame, though if I converted my room entirely into a large walk-in closet…?” He hums thoughtfully, perhaps a touch eagerly. But for the moment? The toothbrush and muzzles would be the essentials to add. That, and his tea set, cane, and pipe.
Loosening his hold on Danta to let him shift easier, Asta winds his arms back around him, stroking along his spine and down to his lower back in long soothing strokes, adjusting his head to rest carefully along those diamond spiked horns. “We're on vacation, darling. I was hoping to sleep in.” The smirk might be felt that grows along his face, but he keeps his face pressed in where he can. “Was there anything you wanted to do? More rum, a smoke?” He suggests, because now that the sleep has left his body with Danta’s nightmare, he’s relatively quite awake. And he is contemplating one of those cigarettes from the pack Danta had snatched.
Keeping him close and sharing the radiating heat between the two of them, Astaroth lets a smile kick up on his face as Danta’s laugh is heard. “A shame, though if I converted my room entirely into a large walk-in closet…?” He hums thoughtfully, perhaps a touch eagerly. But for the moment? The toothbrush and muzzles would be the essentials to add. That, and his tea set, cane, and pipe.
Loosening his hold on Danta to let him shift easier, Asta winds his arms back around him, stroking along his spine and down to his lower back in long soothing strokes, adjusting his head to rest carefully along those diamond spiked horns. “We're on vacation, darling. I was hoping to sleep in.” The smirk might be felt that grows along his face, but he keeps his face pressed in where he can. “Was there anything you wanted to do? More rum, a smoke?” He suggests, because now that the sleep has left his body with Danta’s nightmare, he’s relatively quite awake. And he is contemplating one of those cigarettes from the pack Danta had snatched.
Astaroth
fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart
