They say I'm a dangerous man, better run fast as you can
He finds he adores this version of her — the one that doesn’t filter her thoughts but instead lets them tumble out with all kinds of interpretation up for grabs. And luckily for him, he knows her well enough to read between the lines of it when her cheerful claim reaches his ears, his own low chuckle vibrating out of his chest and past too sharp teeth as he inclines his horned head in agreement. “We should. And gods, darling, you are quite fast.” She was lithe and agile, like a cat turning into a liquid to get wherever she needed to be. He was willowy and thin, but he harbored enough strength and typically steady footing that it made him quite the weighted brawler.
But then again, Asta had never needed to be fast and evasive. He was a punisher, not the beautiful widow in the night that was hard to pin down. He wanted whomever he’d focused on to know it was him doing the damage and that he could not be shaken. “Ooh, perfect.” He chuckles, indulging the warmth seeped from her hand as her fingers tap against his sternum, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. “It is not unlike how I imagined to use it. Though I shall tell you I have a habit of not giving up if I know that I have nothing to lose.” His smile is sharper, not exactly a threat but a playful taunt, a challenge.
As for his concern with her healing, though, the butcher scans her over and takes note of the dried blood clinging to her skin and finds very little in the way of wounds beneath them. “Moan about it to me so at least my ego can remain mostly intact.” He hums thoughtfully, brows lifting with a twist of a smirk on his face as he catches her gaze when she shifts, his arm winding around her a little tighter as he radiates heat.
Her question has him tearing his gaze away from her beautiful blues, glancing back toward the roasted pumpkin, before he’s angling back toward her with a shake of his head. “So long as I have something to sink my teeth into, I believe I can manage it.” Whether that’s truly a thing or a person is another story. But that’s for later Asta to find out.
So he unwraps himself from around her, but not before an affectionate nuzzle to her forehead is offered, withdrawing to offer his arm to her. “And I suppose if I cannot handle it, I do have a muzzle back at the Dusklight I could be convinced to wear.” His tail flicks idly against his heels and brushes up against her leg, before he’s heading them back toward the rest of civilization.
But then again, Asta had never needed to be fast and evasive. He was a punisher, not the beautiful widow in the night that was hard to pin down. He wanted whomever he’d focused on to know it was him doing the damage and that he could not be shaken. “Ooh, perfect.” He chuckles, indulging the warmth seeped from her hand as her fingers tap against his sternum, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. “It is not unlike how I imagined to use it. Though I shall tell you I have a habit of not giving up if I know that I have nothing to lose.” His smile is sharper, not exactly a threat but a playful taunt, a challenge.
As for his concern with her healing, though, the butcher scans her over and takes note of the dried blood clinging to her skin and finds very little in the way of wounds beneath them. “Moan about it to me so at least my ego can remain mostly intact.” He hums thoughtfully, brows lifting with a twist of a smirk on his face as he catches her gaze when she shifts, his arm winding around her a little tighter as he radiates heat.
Her question has him tearing his gaze away from her beautiful blues, glancing back toward the roasted pumpkin, before he’s angling back toward her with a shake of his head. “So long as I have something to sink my teeth into, I believe I can manage it.” Whether that’s truly a thing or a person is another story. But that’s for later Asta to find out.
So he unwraps himself from around her, but not before an affectionate nuzzle to her forehead is offered, withdrawing to offer his arm to her. “And I suppose if I cannot handle it, I do have a muzzle back at the Dusklight I could be convinced to wear.” His tail flicks idly against his heels and brushes up against her leg, before he’s heading them back toward the rest of civilization.
Astaroth
Don't you look back, every bone in my body's bad
