run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Not my type.” The butcher says through his too sharp smile, as if they weren’t just talking about the man in front of them like he was an object to be devoured. The smile remains, faker and faker as the request is made where the butcher can very much hear it, despite the scarred demigod’s attempts to hide it.
He’s leaned over Sunjata a bit more as the requests are made, catching a vague scent of blood that surprises him, before he’s drawing back up to his pristine height and posture the second the demigod moves and Danta’s flashing a bright smile at him, sickly sweet in a way that Asta’s smile twists more akin to the kind where he’d just as soon snarl.
It’s the same that’s angled at the Maverick when his collar is fixed, despite how he knows it didn’t need it. It’s a placating gesture that his tail flicking his annoyance and betraying it even if the smile on his face pretends otherwise. “Try not to be too long, darling.” He hums, voice deeper and more accented as he watches the two vanish toward the back rooms.
He’s leaned over Sunjata a bit more as the requests are made, catching a vague scent of blood that surprises him, before he’s drawing back up to his pristine height and posture the second the demigod moves and Danta’s flashing a bright smile at him, sickly sweet in a way that Asta’s smile twists more akin to the kind where he’d just as soon snarl.
It’s the same that’s angled at the Maverick when his collar is fixed, despite how he knows it didn’t need it. It’s a placating gesture that his tail flicking his annoyance and betraying it even if the smile on his face pretends otherwise. “Try not to be too long, darling.” He hums, voice deeper and more accented as he watches the two vanish toward the back rooms.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
