run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
The kisses feel as much like burns as they do absolution, and the butcher doesn’t know what to do with it. Relief that he isn’t pushed away, cursed for the fact that he’s unable to do much of anything in this state. “You shouldn’t have to. I should be better about it. It’s been years.” He protests before promptly shutting his mouth to let his lover speak, trying to parse it between the thundering in his ears.
The reminders, while nice, also feel like a cop-out. A way that he had tried to soothe Danta for all of the transgressions the butcher had done in the past. Like it didn’t mean he should have to deal with this scotch taped up fragility that the butcher has mastered.
But there’s no room for argument, despite how desperately he wants to, aching and hurting in so many ways that he feels fractured and not at all like himself. Not even like when he slips away into Ferrox. This is new, and this is bad.
Nerves surge with static sharpness at the tips of his fingers as Danta brings life to them, the blood still staining the both of them and their sheets. But at least the tears have stopped. “Okay.” He says, defeated and slumped, still internally berating himself.
The reminders, while nice, also feel like a cop-out. A way that he had tried to soothe Danta for all of the transgressions the butcher had done in the past. Like it didn’t mean he should have to deal with this scotch taped up fragility that the butcher has mastered.
But there’s no room for argument, despite how desperately he wants to, aching and hurting in so many ways that he feels fractured and not at all like himself. Not even like when he slips away into Ferrox. This is new, and this is bad.
Nerves surge with static sharpness at the tips of his fingers as Danta brings life to them, the blood still staining the both of them and their sheets. But at least the tears have stopped. “Okay.” He says, defeated and slumped, still internally berating himself.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
