lord help anyone who stands in my way; for I am not merciful, and i am not kind
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
Following Danta’s lead, it’s a few twists and turns before the cobblestone leading to the stairs he’s been subconsciously thinking about come into view, and he debates for a moment whether or not he might die to take them up as they walk toward them. But he’d asked to, and he still wants to, so he focuses on Danta’s words to distract him as he puts those particular thoughts behind him to huff a laugh. “It’s because it has such a long way to go.” He absolutely isn’t bulky enough to make up for it, but he has the height. And that’s what he banks on for his answer to a comment that isn’t even a question.
He can feel Danta’s hand slip into his pocket and he feels all that much more bolstered by it, tail sweeping over toward the Maverick’s own to twist together, leaning against him still. And before they know it, the dreaded stairs come into view, and the butcher internally cringes before he exhales a slow breath, picking his steps carefully and slowly to get up them. “I hate stairs.” He decides suddenly, slowly, as if it’s a realization he’s only just had.
He can feel Danta’s hand slip into his pocket and he feels all that much more bolstered by it, tail sweeping over toward the Maverick’s own to twist together, leaning against him still. And before they know it, the dreaded stairs come into view, and the butcher internally cringes before he exhales a slow breath, picking his steps carefully and slowly to get up them. “I hate stairs.” He decides suddenly, slowly, as if it’s a realization he’s only just had.
Astaroth
say your prayers now
