don't need love when it comes in a bottle

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

A goosebump stream of a shiver follows Danta’s touch along his back as the butcher listens to the suggestion that the Blood Moon made people do funny things – deciding that, perhaps, it had been a chaotic influence that had caused him to launch his drink all across the butcher, and that maybe, Asta had overreacted. His head tucks in a little bit more against the golden strands of his lover’s crown of hair, a soft exhale leaving him as he buries his face. “Mm, more than likely.” He laments over the fact that Kaisel would think twice before coming near him.

He probably shouldn’t have fucked around if he didn’t want to find out, though. “Perhaps I overreacted.” He also admits, in a quieter hum so that the spirits haunting the room wouldn’t be able to hear it, but that Danta would – because it was rare occasions when the butcher admits even he had had reacted disproportionately, even though it had to do with his clothes. Which for many, that was a reason to lose a finger or two.

But Kaisel was Flora’s, and the longer he thinks about the protections in place for the little shit, the more he sinks into Danta with a soft sigh. “How was the bonfire hop?” He tries to switch the subject, poorly if he had to guess.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life