to ashes and blood

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“I agree wholeheartedly, darling.” The butcher decides as Danta collapses against him in the equivalent of comfort. Draped across him like a blanket, Astaroth finds it soothes him more than anything else so far, even if he was confident in the bracelet’s abilities, it was still his first time sleeping while wearing it.

And while there’s that lingering worry, he finds that he feels comfortable in spite of the worry nagging in the back of his mind. So he relaxes, tugged under the beacon of sleep with Danta’s weight on him and the dark of the den. He passes out just as quickly as Danta does once he allows himself to, sinking into the easiest slumber of his life, with no muzzle glinting against the dark hue of his bearded jaw.

He sleeps even longer than when Danta starts to rouse in the morning, arms still wrapped around him comfortably and his breaths not at all interrupted by panic or fear, just an easy and smooth inhale, then slow exhale.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

Danta lets himself doze for a few minutes on and off, feeling himself rise to wakefulness so comfortably that it almost doesn't feel real. Not the warmth of the blankets and the body he's wrapped around, not the steady rise and fall of Asta's chest, not the relentless drum of a downpour against the windows outside. With a smile curling across his lips, the Maverick stretches out indulgently before curling himself back around his lover, leaning up to press soft kisses against the underside of Asta's jaw, right where his muzzle would normally be.

It isn't entirely clear whether he means to wake the butcher up with his kisses or whether he's just claiming affection when there's nothing anyone can do about it; either way, Danta has no intention of stopping. His fingers skate across Asta's scarred chest in gentle whirls and spirals, his lips brushing over his collarbones until, at last, he huffs a soft breath into the crook of the other man's neck and falls still again.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

It’s a blissful, dreamless deep sleep that the butcher finds himself in, motionless aside from his breathing as Danta stretches out and curls back in, as lips trail along his body. There’s no flinching or whines, no suggestion that there’s any thoughts that drift toward malice.

The second Danta drops onto his chest, the butcher starts to stir, his arms sweeping up to wind around his lover’s middle again, head tilting to press against his lover’s crown as he slowly begins to wake. The ashen tip of Asta’s tail flicks against Danta’s leg where it’s still wound around, and he shifts a little to stretch, waking up to hear the sound of the downpour hitting the windows in a low ticking sound, content to stifle his yawn and curve into Danta a bit more in turn, assuming he’s still asleep and trying to keep him from waking so that he can get as much sleep as possible.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

Huffing out a soft and barely audible laugh as he senses Asta start to shift around him, Danta is far from complaining to feel himself drawn even more tightly against his lover, the Maverick closing his eyes and nosing into the hollow of the butcher's throat. "Good morning," he whispers without stirring any further, clearly not intending to go anywhere despite how awake they become.

Instead, reaching out to tug the blankets over them a little further, Danta is more than content to let himself fall back into a doze to the steady thrum of rain all around them. He doesn't know how long that lasts, either, only that he blinks his eyes back open when the rain is interrupted by a long rumble of thunder. "What a wonderful day to stay inside," he mumbles with a smug smile.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

Content to feel Danta nuzzle in, it’s with a low and sleepy “good morning,” that he hums back to Danta’s own greeting. His arms move, soft and gentle sweeping motions along the scarred back of his lover, content to remain there forever if possible.

He does fall asleep for a few more moments, though, waking up again to hear his hum. “Yes. Agreed.” He murmurs softly, listening to the low thump of the rain hit the window before he takes a deep inhale and begins to twist, shifting onto his side to partially be annoying but also to nuzzle into the Maverick. “I do not think I moved.. My back is sore.” He admits with a quiet chuckle, pressing a soft kiss after to his Theocrat’s crown.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

Joke's on Asta; it's been so long since they've been allowed to wake up together in a content tangle of limbs that nothing he could do would be considered annoying to Danta - besides trying to get up, of course. Shifting with the butcher until he's settled on his side and Danta is able to worm his arms back around him, the Maverick smiles into his neck and lets his hands starburst out against the other man's back.

"We can't be having that, can we?" he purrs, his fingers already kneading firm circles against stiff muscles, encouraging Asta to arch into the touch until he's more comfortable. "It's still early, and I plan to keep you here all day, so you better limber up." Grinning, Danta tips his head back to nuzzle obnoxiously against Asta's cheek, clearly relishing the lack of warm metal between them.

"No dreams?" he guesses, but has to ask anyway.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

A tangle of limbs it is as they readjust and get comfortable again in the blankets of the bed, as he feels the warm touch of Danta’s hands starburst against his side, his soft breaths and smile into his neck. His own arms tighten, pressing up against his spine until his fingertips can toy with the long golden strands of his lovers hair that rest in wild, sleeptossed curls at the nape of his neck.

“Oh good.” The butcher hums through a soft laugh, though he leans into the fingers kneading against his stiff and sore muscles, twisting just enough to where it loosens the point of pain. The obnoxious nuzzle to his cheek has him snorting, tilting his head to press his lips gently to the Maverick’s temple. “No dreams. Just.. peaceful nothingness.” He hums quite contently, dragging his hands down his lover’s spine before spreading them out against his shoulder blades in his own starburst patterns. “How did you sleep, darling?” He asks, returning the obnoxious favor for pressing his head further in toward Danta, lavishing his cheek with kisses.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

"Peaceful nothingness," Danta repeats, smiling against the scruff of Asta's cheek. "Gods, that does sound nice." Especially given the turbulent nature of his lover's dreams for as long as Danta can remember, the Maverick ceasing in his own fuss if only so he can stretch and curl himself into the the other man's arms as best he possibly can. "Mm, I don't think I have ever slept better," he admits, turning his head just enough to accept the kisses Asta has to offer without necessarily moving any further.

A brief flash of lightning illuminates their den in cool, dim light, followed by a clap of thunder loud enough that Danta feels it in his very bones. "I bet the Levinsward is even crazier out there right now," he says; for a storm to be this bad in the Inner Quarter, he can't imagine how it must be out in the lightning-charged fields. "Here's hoping no part of Thal's house is a lightning rod."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“I can confirm that it is quite nice.” He hums in a voice still thick with sleep as he lets Danta stretch and curl into him, quite pleased with this change of pace. Comfortable despite the soreness of his back, of which is alleviated very quickly from Danta’s precise movements. He noses in to press his own series of kisses to the blonde, before he settles swiftly. “I am glad.” He hums, because gods if it wasn’t about time they were able to actually live and sleep beside one another without fear.

Lightning brightens the den briefly, the thunder deep and thick as it burrows into their bones and the very wood of their room, rattling the windows though Asta doesn’t seem to mind, taking this moment to stretch out and pop his back in a series of cracks that have him sagging in against the blankets and his lover. “Ha, I shall let you know. I need to visit her soon.. I have mentioned to Flora that she may be a good fit for the Guild and she agreed, so I an intending on suggesting it should Thalassa be interested.” He hums softly – making a mental note to bring her a thank you gift perfect for all the help she had been, both in helping him finish his quest and also in searching for the very gifts he’d squirreled away here for Danta’s birthday.

Which, is quite imminent.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

"Mm, you and me both. I think we were starting to go a little loopy from lack of sleep. I've a mind to make us start sleeping apart again if this is what it's like when we can't be together," Danta remarks with a furrowed brow, though the way he holds himself against Asta, arms casually looping around his neck and shoulders, suggests that of the two of them, he'd likely be the one to end up crawling back into the butcher's bed if they tried such a thing.

As for Thal and the Thieves' Guild, Danta raises his eyebrows and nods gently; he hasn't met the other Ancient more than a handful of times, but if Asta thinks her a good fit, then his endorsement is already all but given. "That sounds nice. It better not be too soon, though," he adds with a grin, twisting a little as if to suddenly draw the butcher atop him so he can stretch properly - and also blanket the Maverick in his weight and warmth.

"Do you still want to take a trip out to the House of Midnight? I happen to think you'll enjoy it quite a lot."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

“We both know that would not work.” Asta hums softly, though not without the amusement flickering in the panes of his face. It had been impossible to keep them apart before, he imagines this would be no different. Even if it is intentionally done – because he’d had to travel a bit while doing his quest and he hadn’t gone with the Maverick and they still had both slept like shit apart.

Nodding, and about to tell him how it would likely be the next day because today is for them, the butcher only lets out a small huff of a sound as he’s dragged over Danta – his spidery appendages helping him to not crush Danta immediately before he can get his legs and arms and tail all into position for him to drape against his lover. “Tomorrow, likely. Or the day after, we shall see.” He hums softly, before he presses a kiss to Danta’s collarbone, before propping his bearded chin against his lover’s sternum, blinking up at him.

He'd nearly forgotten about the House of Midnight, with everything else going on, and so it’s with an increasingly growing smile that the butcher hums his agreement. “I would love to. Perhaps we can go after I speak with Thal?” He suggests, wondering if rather than spending Danta’s birthday in the rage room this year, if he can swap it to the House of Midnight and the room could quite literally be whatever they wanted to think up.

Of course, barring the moments where he’d promised to show Danta what it was like where he’d grown up.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

Sighing a touch dramatically, Danta nevertheless nods his agreement and shifts to get more comfortable on his back as Asta arranges himself over him, until they are both able to sink blissfully into the bed. "Mm, I doubt the rest of the Dusklight would appreciate me creeping around at all hours to break into your bedroom," he drawls, smirking down at the other man as he peeps up at him, the Maverick's fingers straying into his lover's dark hair, scritching at the base of those fire obsidian horns that protrude from his skull.

"Tomorrow or the day after," he agrees. For now, it's early, it's storming outside, and Danta feels properly alive and at ease for the first time in weeks. And he doesn't plan to waste a moment of it. "Oho, that sounds like a fine idea. Gives me time to fuck around and arrange shit here, speak to Kiada now that I'm not vile to be around, that sort of thing."

Smirking down at Asta, the tip of his tail flicking idly beneath the blankets, his lips part to speak again before a particularly loud clap of thunder has him jumping quite on instinct, surprising a huff of laughter from him. "Fuck, I didn't think it was that bad outside," he admits.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence

Snorting, the butcher’s head tilts into the hands in his hair, into the little scritches at the base of his horns that spark goosebumps along his shoulders and neck. “Oh, so you are telling me you do not have a skeleton key for every room in the Dusklight?” He teases, his grin brightening as he catches Danta’s smirk. “What is the use of sneaking if you can simply unlock and get in?” Touting it boastfully, the butcher’s chuckle is warm as he quiets down for the plans they make.

Nodding before he presses his cheek into Danta’s sternum, the butcher’s own tail flicks contently beneath the blankets. “You were not that vile. You have been worse.” Confidently said, Danta would feel the smile press into his skin. A smile that softens when the lightning cracks again and he feels his lover jolt with the surprise before laughter leaves him.

Peeling himself up a touch to glance over his shoulder back toward the windows, he squints toward the dull light as rain continues to pelt the windows. “The weather here does seem to be quite temperamental.” He shakes his head before he looks back toward Danta. “It is a good thing we are staying in here, then, mm?” Cockily said, the butcher’s dark gaze is amused as it is warm.

Astaroth

beg me for forgiveness

// you knew who I was //

"Of course I have a skeleton key for every room in the Dusklight. But I like to give myself a challenge, you know? Especially if I am supposed to be breaking and entering in your room at night." Winking at Asta as if he has thought this all out already, Danta's fingers absently flutter down to the back of the other man's neck and across his shoulders, contently pinned beneath him while the storm rages outside.

"Hey," he barks at the confirmation that he has been worse, despite it being the absolute truth. "And I was on my best behaviour with you. I can't say that the rest of the building received the same treatment." Wincing - and it's only half playful - Danta makes a mental note, when they finally think about getting breakfast, to add extra p's and q's to his request.

For now, though, he merely watches as the butcher props himself up enough to peek at the rain lashing outside. The dim light casts his features into sharp contrasts and shadows, the Maverick momentarily struck by the ease in his posture and expression, the way he looks like Asta, properly, for the first time in a long time.

"A very good thing," he agrees, the words purred up at his lover, before Danta is reaching out to yank him back down and right into the kiss he plants against his lips.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //