the way we work is masochistic

the evidence is on my body
but I never complain

The two of them look quite normal despite being swallowed up in the dome of fire – no horns or tails to be seen, just the comfort of Danta’s chest, the darkness melded with the scent of the fire and char, mixed with Danta’s own comforting scent of citrus and sage, the strong tang of iron in the air. If he just closes his eyes tightly he can pretend and that should be enough to get through it.

He presses his face in harder against his lover’s chest, finally taking in a deeper breath that shakes at the end, before he nods slowly. “Thank you.” He manages to say without a voice crack, but he swallows hard after as if to maintain that theory that he isn’t as fucked up as he is by this. And with those thoughts, the counting of his breaths, Danta’s scent, and the exhaustion and pain already having gone through, he does fall asleep.

It isn’t as deep as it was before, but between the soft hum of Danta’s voice and the way his fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, it’s a twitchy and awkward sleep but at least it’s sleep. It’s something to make the time go by faster for him, at least, and the crows do remain at bay despite the quiet and occasional croaks of curiosity from the light of the fire that keeps them awake.

Astaroth

i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing