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
“That and the fact that we cannot burn.” Asta muses, closing his eyes briefly as he embraces the warmth around them, the fire flickering merrily enough that he finds himself leaning a touch toward it as he sways (the world is spinning each time he closes his eyes too long). He opens his eyes shortly after the realization, and he settles comfortably back on his heels, craving the warmth and the touch of the blonde’s arm as it slips around him.
Humming a soft note, the butcher nods, flashing an easy and lopsided smile down toward him. The soft touch to it gives away just how inebriated he is. “I agree.” He purrs, before breaking into a soft laugh. “I wonder how many drunken sailors would fall into it, though.” His soft smile twists to mischief, ignorant of the crowds still milling about as his tail winds around Danta’s leg to steady himself.
Waiting a brief moment just purely for anticipation, the butcher then sticks his hand into the bonfire, far enough that the edges of his rolled up shirt starts to singe and catch.
Humming a soft note, the butcher nods, flashing an easy and lopsided smile down toward him. The soft touch to it gives away just how inebriated he is. “I agree.” He purrs, before breaking into a soft laugh. “I wonder how many drunken sailors would fall into it, though.” His soft smile twists to mischief, ignorant of the crowds still milling about as his tail winds around Danta’s leg to steady himself.
Waiting a brief moment just purely for anticipation, the butcher then sticks his hand into the bonfire, far enough that the edges of his rolled up shirt starts to singe and catch.
Astaroth
say your prayers now
