/// i'm uncontrollable, emotional, chaotically proportional
i'm visceral, reloadable
i'm visceral, reloadable
He doesn’t know. Yet.
At least the mortification can wait a little bit longer, given the statue’s status amongst the heat of the lava pits, that is until the warm relief of fire starts to break through the exterior.
He starts to warm up, slowly, cracks appearing and melding away as fingers move, as a shoulder is revealed from amongst where the lava had started to try and suck him in, never to be seen again. There’s a sharp gasp, one clamped down on immediately the second he realizes it’s happening, and as soon as he feels like he can move, his legs are shaky and so uncharacteristically himself that he thinks he’s certainly died.
Dark eyes, unfocused, scan along his savior, fingertips digging into the rockery to keep him upright.
And then it fucking clicks, and despite the way his lungs try to get used to the new fresh air over centuries of naught, there’s a hiccupped, bubbling laugh that escapes him, focusing in on peering down at the thin blonde. “How wonderful." He pauses to get a hold of himself, sucking in air to steady himself and regain that composure he's most known for. "We're both dead.” Because obviously that's the only way this could happen.
The alternative is a bit too uncomfortable to fathom.
At least the mortification can wait a little bit longer, given the statue’s status amongst the heat of the lava pits, that is until the warm relief of fire starts to break through the exterior.
He starts to warm up, slowly, cracks appearing and melding away as fingers move, as a shoulder is revealed from amongst where the lava had started to try and suck him in, never to be seen again. There’s a sharp gasp, one clamped down on immediately the second he realizes it’s happening, and as soon as he feels like he can move, his legs are shaky and so uncharacteristically himself that he thinks he’s certainly died.
Dark eyes, unfocused, scan along his savior, fingertips digging into the rockery to keep him upright.
And then it fucking clicks, and despite the way his lungs try to get used to the new fresh air over centuries of naught, there’s a hiccupped, bubbling laugh that escapes him, focusing in on peering down at the thin blonde. “How wonderful." He pauses to get a hold of himself, sucking in air to steady himself and regain that composure he's most known for. "We're both dead.” Because obviously that's the only way this could happen.
The alternative is a bit too uncomfortable to fathom.
Astaroth
i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy, i'm crazy ///
everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
everybody in the world knows i'm a little twisted
