now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence
won't accept your silence
“I would have always told you before asking, darling. Never fear.” He drawls with pure arrogance and confidence that he cannot imagine himself doing anything but that. So for now, the butcher can’t quite hide the huff of laughter that blossoms in Asta’s throat as he explains the ring and how pleased he is with the idea of it.
Hearing her say of course, though, when he’s showing off the glimmer of fire obsidian that his antlers are made of – blacker than black in any other light but not when the sun itself blooms. “That is the idea, no?” Bouncing his brow and his tail flicking playfully, the butcher sighs a little as though it’s something he’s been thinking about but has no answer for it yet.
Tilting his head this way and that, the butcher nods eventually. “Making plans is not something that tends to go accordingly. Perhaps we should come up with a code word I can say and you’ll know?” He muses, unsure exactly how that would work.
Hearing her say of course, though, when he’s showing off the glimmer of fire obsidian that his antlers are made of – blacker than black in any other light but not when the sun itself blooms. “That is the idea, no?” Bouncing his brow and his tail flicking playfully, the butcher sighs a little as though it’s something he’s been thinking about but has no answer for it yet.
Tilting his head this way and that, the butcher nods eventually. “Making plans is not something that tends to go accordingly. Perhaps we should come up with a code word I can say and you’ll know?” He muses, unsure exactly how that would work.
Astaroth
beg me for forgiveness
