you broke me and left these pieces

// once you're in my shining cathedral, heed the tolling bell //

Pierce was different. She says, and it takes everything in him to not tell her it’s solely because the Family got their claws into her, that sure, the brawler might have found her interesting before the infection, but after? She was everything. And when he got her fixed — because the butcher would heal her — she’d see it too. But for now, he can placate. He can be the brother or fatherly advice that it seems she needs right now, supportive and caring and ready to tear through anyone else tangible that’s made her feel so inferior that she needs Pierce to tell her what to do and what is right.

It grinds against him, even as he offers her all the help that he can, shifting his words into poetry and optimism instead of the pessimistic outlook that vibrates under his skin. “I know it does, darling.” And he gets it, too. Danta and he had their rough patch where they were unable to admit anything to one another and the interim time had been terrible for the both of them.

So when she asks how, and their foreheads are pressed together, he reaches up to try and tame some of her dark hair around her horns, withdrawing enough to view her fully as he fusses over her. “You start small. And you allow your friends to help you.” He murmurs softly, cupping her cheek gently. “I am here to help you.”

Astaroth

// it's the final sound you hear as you descend to hell //