the holy blade

don't you ever tame your demons

"If you’re sure," Danta murmurs, relaxing to allow Asta to clamber around from him, taking with him every drop of darkness that remains in the den, or so it feels like. Peeping out between a small gap in their velveteen drapes, the Maverick seems small and tousled in the mess of sheets and furs and pillows, hiding a wide yawn behind his hand and squinting to watch the butcher prowl across the room. He’s tilting his head at the letter like he might stand any chance at all of reading it before the other man explains its contents, though he does perk up considerably as their breakfast is also retrieved.

"Oh, that’s kind of her to tell us," he trills, shifting to drape himself against Asta’s back, one arm looping around him while the other steals a bit of bacon from the tray. "I put up signs in the Backroom, to warn about the monsters," he adds like it’s nothing, devouring his piece of bacon before relaxing back against the butcher.

"Will staying here for the day help, do you think?" he asks regarding Asta’s feeling strange, sitting up enough that he can trail his fingers across his back and shoulders in gentle swirls. "Because I could be persuaded for a day in bed with you, even at the beginning of the season where we tend to get bedeviled by mischievous ghosts."

Dantalion

but always keep 'em on a leash