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
“That is fair.” The butcher says softly, trying to not let it get to him as much as he has been. But it’s a difficult line to ride when he’d spent the whole night absorbing it as one and the same, even if he was different now. Still a monster, yes, but never Danta’s nightmare again. And perhaps that’s the difference that the butcher needs to cement into his mind, that he knows himself and what he’s capable of, and the idea of doing anything of the sort to the Maverick was not even a possibility.
But its the warmth with Danta’s nose pressing into his neck that relaxes him from the thought, even when Danta starts with a thought pattern similarly - they’re different men, now. The Maverick was his Theocrat. He ruled this region. He was no longer caged and kept as a weapon. And Asta? Asta wasn’t the weapon to keep him in check anymore.
Now Danta held the leash.
His hands rise to wind around Danta’s middle, hands warm as they slide against his back and up toward his shoulders, blinking up with his amber gaze to see him peering back down at him. “You are everything to me, Danta.” He says quietly, eyes closing as the press to his cheek soothes him. “We will get through this.” He repeats, a new mantra to replace the one from the nightmare of the night before.
His head tilts, seeking out a soft and gentle kiss to his lips, snaring him only in the press of his ultimate affection.
But its the warmth with Danta’s nose pressing into his neck that relaxes him from the thought, even when Danta starts with a thought pattern similarly - they’re different men, now. The Maverick was his Theocrat. He ruled this region. He was no longer caged and kept as a weapon. And Asta? Asta wasn’t the weapon to keep him in check anymore.
Now Danta held the leash.
His hands rise to wind around Danta’s middle, hands warm as they slide against his back and up toward his shoulders, blinking up with his amber gaze to see him peering back down at him. “You are everything to me, Danta.” He says quietly, eyes closing as the press to his cheek soothes him. “We will get through this.” He repeats, a new mantra to replace the one from the nightmare of the night before.
His head tilts, seeking out a soft and gentle kiss to his lips, snaring him only in the press of his ultimate affection.
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
