i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse
i am the shadow driving the hearse
He knows that with the release of all those pent up emotions and the fact that Danta hasn’t slept all night that it was only a matter of time before he’d succumb to the exhaustion he likely feels. And not one to continue wanting to take up more space in a place that isn’t entirely his like their room is, the butcher’s quick to confirm going upstairs as he snags the other man’s hand, watching with open affection and fondness to feel the press of warm lips against his knuckles – knuckles that are blissfully free of bruising and pain.
Reaching the stairs, though, he takes one with a small hesitation, glancing over at the Maverick when he announces potential plans – even if King’s End is the last place the butcher wants to go. Cold, dreary, probably muddy, with that stupid demigod. But, business was business, and Danta deserves to have some time away from everything. That much the butcher understands – and now that it’s Flowerbirth and he’s had plenty of time to recover from his emotional barrage over the last couple of seasons, Asta is capable of withstanding being away from Danta enough to let him have a pass at whatever he decides to get up to in the haunted region.
“I think that the spirits may try.” He rumbles as he clenches his teeth to take another few steps, tail swishing with slight annoyance for the pain it sparks up his spine. “Perhaps you can make a vacation out of it? No rules so you can do whatever you want and require, how does that sound, love?” He asks quietly once they reach the door to their room.
As for how he’s feeling, he can’t wait to get within the confines of their space – excited enough about the prospect that he pushes himself a touch harder than he probably should and winces as he slips into the room and sparks the fire to roar even higher. “I am… Incredibly sore. Now that my arm is not as bad, the rest of my body has decided to remind me it exists.” Flashing an apologetic smile to Danta, he drops his hand to remove the leather roll of knives on the table as he passes by it on a mission to reach the bed.
Reaching the stairs, though, he takes one with a small hesitation, glancing over at the Maverick when he announces potential plans – even if King’s End is the last place the butcher wants to go. Cold, dreary, probably muddy, with that stupid demigod. But, business was business, and Danta deserves to have some time away from everything. That much the butcher understands – and now that it’s Flowerbirth and he’s had plenty of time to recover from his emotional barrage over the last couple of seasons, Asta is capable of withstanding being away from Danta enough to let him have a pass at whatever he decides to get up to in the haunted region.
“I think that the spirits may try.” He rumbles as he clenches his teeth to take another few steps, tail swishing with slight annoyance for the pain it sparks up his spine. “Perhaps you can make a vacation out of it? No rules so you can do whatever you want and require, how does that sound, love?” He asks quietly once they reach the door to their room.
As for how he’s feeling, he can’t wait to get within the confines of their space – excited enough about the prospect that he pushes himself a touch harder than he probably should and winces as he slips into the room and sparks the fire to roar even higher. “I am… Incredibly sore. Now that my arm is not as bad, the rest of my body has decided to remind me it exists.” Flashing an apologetic smile to Danta, he drops his hand to remove the leather roll of knives on the table as he passes by it on a mission to reach the bed.
Astaroth
what was it like to feel in love?
