and you'll wake up all alone, on an old beat-down dirt country road
and you'll crawl back through fire and snow
and you'll crawl back through fire and snow
He hasn’t been like that in a long while. Typically on top of his blood lust, it’s a careful tightrope to walk. But Danta had held his leash tight and perfectly, had allocated enough to keep him from falling into full feral cannibalism. So for that, he’s eternally grateful. So much so that he relaxes even more as Danta’s leg hooks around his lap, his free hand dropping from the pina colada after a long slow sip to rest against the outside of his calf, thumb stroking gently.
“I think next time I should take care of my bloodlust first.” But this had been spontaneous. There wasn’t any amount of preparation before sinking his teeth into the idea. Just a lot of liquor and already being set off by the appearance of a specific Ancient he’s focused on forgetting about in the very bar they’re still indulging in.
As for Flora managing them, the butcher’s low laugh leaves him, rich and tired but content. “I do not think she has. She will certainly find out.” He drawls, leaning forward so he can keep his hands on the Maverick and still snag a good sip of the pina colada before he sinks back. “I anticipate a lot of sweat.” He tacks on lower, his amusement palpable.
After all, he and Danta didn’t sweat. And it’s been a very long time since Asta could, though the uncomfortable sticky memories linger, however dusty they are.
“I think next time I should take care of my bloodlust first.” But this had been spontaneous. There wasn’t any amount of preparation before sinking his teeth into the idea. Just a lot of liquor and already being set off by the appearance of a specific Ancient he’s focused on forgetting about in the very bar they’re still indulging in.
As for Flora managing them, the butcher’s low laugh leaves him, rich and tired but content. “I do not think she has. She will certainly find out.” He drawls, leaning forward so he can keep his hands on the Maverick and still snag a good sip of the pina colada before he sinks back. “I anticipate a lot of sweat.” He tacks on lower, his amusement palpable.
After all, he and Danta didn’t sweat. And it’s been a very long time since Asta could, though the uncomfortable sticky memories linger, however dusty they are.
Astaroth
'cause there ain't no other place to go
