tell me what you need

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

Sighing a little sound of relief when Danta’s hand makes it into his hair, Astaroth’s shoulders seem to loosen that much more, even as he’s forced to look inward to think about what did stop him. Yes, he’d woken up, and perhaps it had simply been coincidence or perhaps it had been some other portion of his subconscious too attached to Danta to actually let that happen. The reasons why seem to go out the window, though, too tough to look at. “Perhaps.” He says as an end all be all, before he shakes his head minutely, a shiver racing down his spine caused by the hand toying with the shorter strands of his dark hair at the nape of his neck.

“Noooooo.” Astaroth complains in a purely dramatic and childish hum that is broken up with a soft snort and a huff of a laugh, surprising enough for the butcher. It’s said in a tone similarly enough to nOt My RePuTaTiOn that he’s sure it gets the point across. Especially as Danta continues to comment on bedroom antics and the butcher snorts lightly, shifting his head so that he can squint up at the Maverick curiously. “And cows, evidently.”

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

"I'll not stake my neck on a perhaps, so it's probably worth figuring out eventually," Danta remarks, his tone dry but a smile still curling up the corners of his lips. Asta has had a rough fucking night and then some, so he'll forgive his cognitive dissonance for now. Besides, as the Maverick feels him start to relax, he (obviously) continues his gentle fuss through the back of the other man's hair, more interested in not having him still feel bitey and panicky.

Grinning, Danta nods his enthusiasm. "Yeeeeeees," he confirms, only to cough out a genine laugh at the sudden mention of the cows (and milkmaids, Asta, they were there too) that had filed out of his room earlier. "Listen," he drawls, "if there's a kink in this brothel that I haven't tried - and there was - then I'm duty bound to give it a try." Until tall, crow-phobic cannibals interrupt him, anyway.

Still amused and relaxing further into his pillows, he gathers Asta all the closer as a result. "I'm sorry," he adds, after a stretch of silence. "I knew it was bad, but I never realised it was like this. Kudos to you for keeping it together in The Climb, though. I had no idea."

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“Mm, eventually.” Astaroth concludes, still willing to let the conversation die to look back on at a later date. The sentiment is there, though, and he realizes that Danta’s really sacrificing a lot by letting him stay here, this close in proximity, after what’s just happened. Thankfully he can’t think about it much longer because of the hands in his hair, dragging him into a boneless kind of relaxation that has his heavy body becoming quite the weighted blanket on the other man.

The laugh spurs the corners of his lips to lift, snorting as he shrugs a shoulder in response. “Well, I suppose you’ll have to give it another go some other time.” You know, because he’d ruined it entirely with the panic and upset.

He settles into the amusement and relaxation, if Astaroth was a cat he’d certainly be purring right about now even as he hears the apology after the stretch of silence, allowing for Astaroth to shrug a shoulder lightly as if that were answer enough. It isn’t, though. “It isn’t your fault.” That the crows were around so much, that he’d even been attacked by them in the first place. “But it is why my violence was much more… Aggressive, there.” without an outlet to get it out, aggression had become key between sleeping fitfully to hear them and long stretches of hunting in his various shifts at the time. “Everyone just assumed I would improve after Dygra changed me, and I let them believe it.” Because talking about his feelings or traumas certainly wasn’t a thing he was capable of doing back in his cannibal tribe. Nor was it really something he managed to do a lot while in the Climb.

It was easier to ignore and pretend it didn’t exist, to retreat when things got really bad, or not unlike Danta, get pointed toward something that needed a punishment.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

"Oh, I absolutely will, don't you worry about that," Danta says with a self-satisfied grin, one that fades only at the weighty feel of the other man relaxing against him. The heat of his body is enough to have Danta's eyes falling shut for a moment, and he lets both hands move up to stroke through Asta's hair, as if he might be lulled to sleep despite the potential nightmares lurking in wait.

Sighing eventually and shifting to loop his arms back around the other man properly, Danta furrows his brow. "It might not be my fault but I certainly didn't help matters," he reminds him - not that he expects Asta to have forgotten. But then his next comment has a lightbulb going off in the Maverick's mind, and he blinks his eyes back open.

"Why don't you ask Dygra to help?" he asks. "I'm sure she could make a charm or something that would stop you giving a fuck about gore crows."

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“I am most certainly not worried, darling.” Astaroth hums, muffled into the Maverick’s chest with a weary sigh even thinking about the ordeal (and partially wondering what kind of fun people had doing that, he could never) so he promptly pushes it out in lieu of something else, even as he nearly seems to whine with the loss of the hand in his hair.

The weight of Danta’s arms around his shoulders settles him in place of it, though, shrugging lightly because while that was true, he hadn’t exactly helped himself any either. And the last thing he needed people to know was his weakness, especially Morax’s crew. So he’d swallowed it down and hidden it away, focusing instead on the sudden response Danta offers that has Asta snorting lightly.

“Doesn’t it seem too trivial for her?” He asks in a voice that seems further from the butcher’s usual tones, smaller somehow, like he’s undeserving of such a menial thing to help him sleep at night. “I had considered it a while ago, but I do not wish to waste her time with such… admittedly ridiculous things.”

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

Danta raises an eyebrow at that, gently shaking his head as if the idea of Dygra turning down a request like this has never even entered his mind. "Would our beloved goddess think it trivial to take away her children's pain?" he echoes, his skepticism audible in his voice. "I would hope she would be all too pleased to help you. How are you meant to be whole and strong, or to represent her interests, when you have this hanging over your head?"

Tutting as if Asta has been foolish to even consider that Dygra would say anything other than yes, the Maverick noses affectionately into the other man's hair. "For an intelligent man, you can be so dumb," he tells him softly, his smile wrapped around the words. "Ask her. I bet there's something she can do for you. Imagine not having to worry about this any more."

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

Maybe it was the fact that Danta had been born Ancient that had him inevitably closer to their goddess. Maybe it was the fact that Dygra, to Asta, was his savior – the one that prevented his demise and allowed him the space to grow into who he is now that makes such ideas seem so trivial in comparison. Because as the Maverick speaks, Astaroth listens, and he realizes how stupid his question did sound.

“You make a good point.” Asta mutters, a touch annoyed, before he noses his way up to press his nose against Danta’s pulse, huffing out an annoyed sigh which is entirely too characteristic of the butcher in lieu of the prior. “Gods, it would be such a welcome reprieve.” He breathes out the sigh, hot against Danta’s neck. It’s decided, he realizes, especially with the addition to the shrine in the temple, it would make it that much easier for him to see her. “I will ask her when the shrine is built.” It would replace the one he has in mind in regards to the mundane cane he’s picked out for the moment. But at least it would offer some respite for him.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

"I know I do," Danta says smugly, a fanged grin on his face to feel Asta's nose press in against his throat and his hot breath across his neck, though it fades as he realises just how much such a thing would mean to the butcher, both asleep and awake. "Make sure you do. I'll hassle you about it and you know it," he murmurs, nosing back against the other man's dark hair and holding him close for a few moments more.

"Alright," he says eventually, "roll over, little spoon. I'm at risk of napping here, and we both know if you drop off it's better for you not to be right next to my jugular." Though it's a real worry they both have thanks to the events of the past hour, Danta nonetheless says it with affection, and no part of him has any intention of kicking Asta out of bed.

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“That’s all I need,” he comments dryly, thankful for the way his face is buried so the Maverick can’t see the roll of his eyes (even if the idea is there regardless). “I will do it before you have a chance to hassle me.” It would give him some peace of mind, and he imagines he’d likely need to collect items from a gore crow in order to complete said task — at least he imagines Danta and Maea would help with that.

Tilting his head a little as Danta noses his face into his dark hair, he sighs when the request to roll over is made, along with wrinkling his nose at the idea of the nickname when he absolutely is larger. “Fine.” It’s haughtily said, but he certainly goes through with it, twisting and turning in the blankets to let Danta press back up against his scarred spine like a little backpack.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

”I don’t think that’s the threat you think it is.” Danta chuckles to himself; after all, Asta getting himself sorted out before the Maverick is forced to ask him about it is only going to benefit them both. Luckily (for the butcher), he’s rolling over before he can properly see Danta’s smug smile, and it takes little effort for him to melt himself against Asta’s back. Shifting to nuzzle against the crook of his neck, his arms wind back around him much as they had done when they were on the ground.

”Fine,” he echoes, the smirk audible in his voice and his lips warm against the other man’s throat. ”Sorry if I fall asleep again, by the way. Give me an elbow if you need anything.” Already obscenely comfortable beneath the blankets and with the butcher’s heat kindling against him, Danta realises he’ll soon be fighting a losing battle against sleep.

”And if you drop off, that’s fine too. Even if you end up waking up again,” he adds.

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

“I was hoping for more.. bravado.” He drawls in terms of the threat. To try and make it more believable, more “intimidating” even if he knows that’s objectively not going to work. Not when he’s unfortunately been dubbed the little spoon in this situation, despite how his legs tangle on with Danta’s and he’s very clearly bigger than the other man.

At least it’s comfortable, the way they’re mashed together, with Danta’s head and lips pressed against his skin, arms wound around him like it might take an act of god to separate them. Any lingering panic or worry flees in the face of the warmth they share. “It is alright if you do.” Danta’s had a day today, and while Astaroth can relate, he’s still a bit on edge from earlier even as he grows more comfortable where they’ve curled up on the bed. “It will take me some time.” Not impossible, but the adrenaline still rushing through his system is making it difficult to even think about trying to sleep.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

// there's shadows on the walls //

”Mm, well you hardly need to try for bravado. Have you met you?” Danta smiles against the back of Asta’s neck, and if their difference in height has even occurred to him, he doesn’t show it. (The man was dressed as a cowboy only a few hours before, after all - a few inches between friends are hardly a game changer for him).

(Wink wonk).

Still, Asta’s permission is almost everything he needs to feel his eyes start to grow heavy, and it’s with a distracted nod that he nestles closer, fingers absently skating across the butcher’s scarred chest. ”Then I hope it’s time well spent, at least,” he mumbles, before falling quiet again.

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

/// i'm uncontrollable, emotional, chaotically proportional
i'm visceral, reloadable

Snorting lightly from where his face is half pressed into the pillow, he can feel the smile that brushes by the back of his neck, tickling at the hair there. He settles, even as he tries to alleviate the adrenaline silently, it helps to have the distraction of Danta’s fingers gently running along hardened scar tissue, lulling him into a semblance of further silence.

The quiet hum offered from Danta is met with even more silence, hanging onto the sensation of the blonde’s warm hands tracing along his chest until they stutter and stop, and even for longer after that as he soaks up the attention and warmth, so much at odds from what he was previously used to and yet so content to have right in this moment.

It’s all the relaxation he needs to slowly sink into a slumber himself.

— FIN <333

Astaroth

i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy ///
everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted