my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,
come now, bite through these wires,
He does know of Danta’s preferences, but when it came to weather even worse than this (even fi he wasn’t Ancient at the time), he’d much preferred the food they had a chance to make as opposed to the whole hunt of it all. So he regales him with the playful stories and memories of it, how he’d spend much of the season carving all of those knife handles and bones that he’d squirreled away in his home, up until they’ve finally reached the doors of the Dusklight.
The butcher sighs a bit of relief, too, kicking out his boots to rid it of the packed snow within it, stepping in and tugging his jacket off in the process. The fire remains for a few moments longer, at least to help light the way to their room as Danta hides a yawn behind his hand – an infectious one as Asta hides his own yawn. “You know I would never be against you joining me.” He drawls with a playful smile tossed over his shoulder as he opens the door for his lover, letting him slip in first before he follows and closes the door – already setting his threaded cane to the side and turns his focus to the warm yet far less soft attire he wears in comparison to the furs and blankets that drape their bed.
Once he's managed to get his coat hung up, he reaches for the Maverick, tugging him in close to wrap his arms around him and steal a sweet and self indulgent kiss.
The butcher sighs a bit of relief, too, kicking out his boots to rid it of the packed snow within it, stepping in and tugging his jacket off in the process. The fire remains for a few moments longer, at least to help light the way to their room as Danta hides a yawn behind his hand – an infectious one as Asta hides his own yawn. “You know I would never be against you joining me.” He drawls with a playful smile tossed over his shoulder as he opens the door for his lover, letting him slip in first before he follows and closes the door – already setting his threaded cane to the side and turns his focus to the warm yet far less soft attire he wears in comparison to the furs and blankets that drape their bed.
Once he's managed to get his coat hung up, he reaches for the Maverick, tugging him in close to wrap his arms around him and steal a sweet and self indulgent kiss.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
