we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
A laugh bubbles up from his throat, acknowledging the ‘blizzard’ for what it was. “Child’s play.” He touts, arrogantly, as if he’d gone through worse before (he had) and it was no match to the brutal landscape he’s crafted before them, with no shelter in sight aside from those they built themselves.
But he’s awestruck and stupidly in love so much that he softens immediately with the view and how he curves into Danta to watch it sink low, until familiar constellations overtook the skies — ones that had changed since they had woken. “If you had not shown me the skyships, I would have been horribly lost.” He admits, tearing his gaze away from it to look at Danta with a soft smile.
He’d always used the stars to navigate, and were he attempting to use them to get out of the Climb a year ago he would have been lost.
But the mood grows softer as night overtakes the village and Asta nods, not minding it in the slightest. “I am sure that can be arranged.” He hums, not knowing how exactly the rooms worked, but sure that they could ask for some to be brought up. He’d carefully masked the door to the room into the entrance of another home of the village, so he reluctantly parts from Danta with a grin, stepping over the crunch of snow toward it to open it and have some things brought up.
It’s almost as if they knew, though Asta suspects it has a hand in how cozy Danta and the proprietor were, because after a few moments he’s handed a platter full of food and two bottles of deep red wine. Returning to Danta now, tail flicking lightly, the butcher’s smile brightens as he nods toward the snow block house that was his own. “Shall we settle in, then?” He hums, already planning on shifting his home enough to make it comfier for the both of them.
But he’s awestruck and stupidly in love so much that he softens immediately with the view and how he curves into Danta to watch it sink low, until familiar constellations overtook the skies — ones that had changed since they had woken. “If you had not shown me the skyships, I would have been horribly lost.” He admits, tearing his gaze away from it to look at Danta with a soft smile.
He’d always used the stars to navigate, and were he attempting to use them to get out of the Climb a year ago he would have been lost.
But the mood grows softer as night overtakes the village and Asta nods, not minding it in the slightest. “I am sure that can be arranged.” He hums, not knowing how exactly the rooms worked, but sure that they could ask for some to be brought up. He’d carefully masked the door to the room into the entrance of another home of the village, so he reluctantly parts from Danta with a grin, stepping over the crunch of snow toward it to open it and have some things brought up.
It’s almost as if they knew, though Asta suspects it has a hand in how cozy Danta and the proprietor were, because after a few moments he’s handed a platter full of food and two bottles of deep red wine. Returning to Danta now, tail flicking lightly, the butcher’s smile brightens as he nods toward the snow block house that was his own. “Shall we settle in, then?” He hums, already planning on shifting his home enough to make it comfier for the both of them.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
