so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
“Alright.” With the plan in place, Asta settles as Danta scrubs away the stubborn blood that’s clung and pooled against his skin, dried and lingering. It’s when Danta begins to move away that Asta’s snagging the cloth. And he notices the way Danta freezes. Like the surrounding area is full of eggshells and one wrong step would bring the monster back out.
Once upon a time, it might have. But now? Now it’s the last thing on his mind aside from keeping it stuffed so far down it might vanish again completely as he lifts the cloth to his lover’s skin, gentle and diligent as he wipes away tears and blood and anything else that might linger from their destructive night.
“I am glad.” He murmurs softly as he withdraws, wringing out the cloth and stepping away from it a fraction to let Danta finish up, watching as he ghosts away as a fraction of his usual self while the butcher’s slow going in his approach to their den. Shedding all of his clothes and remaining in the dressings only - the bloodied chains on his antlers getting placed on the nightstand - the butcher curls up into the dark and under the blankets, curled up within them as small as can be before Danta approaches.
The knit sweater and pajama bottoms look incredibly soft, and Asta appreciates them immensely for the comfort he’s sure they bring. He wants to reach for the Maverick, but he isn’t sure if his sudden movements might make things worse. So he waits until he’s settled in the bed and the butcher has taken the pain medication, before Asta’s slipping over toward him, slowly reaching for the ruined hand to lift it to his lips and press soft and gentle kisses to his fingers that are red and puffy and angry.
Once upon a time, it might have. But now? Now it’s the last thing on his mind aside from keeping it stuffed so far down it might vanish again completely as he lifts the cloth to his lover’s skin, gentle and diligent as he wipes away tears and blood and anything else that might linger from their destructive night.
“I am glad.” He murmurs softly as he withdraws, wringing out the cloth and stepping away from it a fraction to let Danta finish up, watching as he ghosts away as a fraction of his usual self while the butcher’s slow going in his approach to their den. Shedding all of his clothes and remaining in the dressings only - the bloodied chains on his antlers getting placed on the nightstand - the butcher curls up into the dark and under the blankets, curled up within them as small as can be before Danta approaches.
The knit sweater and pajama bottoms look incredibly soft, and Asta appreciates them immensely for the comfort he’s sure they bring. He wants to reach for the Maverick, but he isn’t sure if his sudden movements might make things worse. So he waits until he’s settled in the bed and the butcher has taken the pain medication, before Asta’s slipping over toward him, slowly reaching for the ruined hand to lift it to his lips and press soft and gentle kisses to his fingers that are red and puffy and angry.
Astaroth
so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
