there's an angel on your story and a demon in your bed
feels a bit surreal, feeling bad, don't feel it yet
feels a bit surreal, feeling bad, don't feel it yet
There is that unique tug, a strange pull that almost screams more, and the butcher wants nothing more than to offer – allowing the still dripping crimson of his finger to continue to pour for her. The shrine he’s currently standing within, comes to life in such a spectacular sensation – as if he can feel it through each and every atom of his body – just as it had been when she’d saved him. “It is always an honor to create in your name.” He hums back, basking in the approval.
He'd craft for her whatever she desired, whether it be his typical ruby red sprees or something of this nature. His devotion is and always will be clear.
The sharp grin sparks to life to hear her utilize his moniker, and as he straightens and tucks that lock of fallen hair that had fallen into his face, he doesn’t have to feel it to know that she’s working her magic elsewhere. Pride emanates from the butcher, leaking into his accented voice as he speaks again. “Is there anything else you wish for that I can undertake for you?” Anything that she craved that he could provide?
Or would it be to simply live how he has been – walking that fine line of precise chaos?
He'd craft for her whatever she desired, whether it be his typical ruby red sprees or something of this nature. His devotion is and always will be clear.
The sharp grin sparks to life to hear her utilize his moniker, and as he straightens and tucks that lock of fallen hair that had fallen into his face, he doesn’t have to feel it to know that she’s working her magic elsewhere. Pride emanates from the butcher, leaking into his accented voice as he speaks again. “Is there anything else you wish for that I can undertake for you?” Anything that she craved that he could provide?
Or would it be to simply live how he has been – walking that fine line of precise chaos?
Astaroth
it's a roulette kinda deal, black and red is what you get
