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
“Mm, I do not mean a threat in the way one might assume to be dangerous.” He pauses, because Flora was strong — stronger than he was and he can recognize it with absolute ease and understanding even if it recoils against a previous part of himself that had been striving to be the strongest. “I believe I meant more along the lines of emotionally.” He hums, leaning toward her so that his good arm brushes against her with a warm, too sharp smile that seems to suggest he can understand.
After all, she and Jack had been dating when he’d gone and had kids with a goddess. Which was messy in its own right.
But the butcher also can’t imagine having children, the mere thought brushes up against every portion of his soul still encapsulated by the harsh snows of Whitebrim. It’s more survival than anything, and nothing like it once was, but Asta can’t help but to try to avoid that at all costs.
Luckily, it isn’t something he has to worry about. Instead he can sit here beside his beautiful friend, healing in waters that have cut through the ache of his bones and the sharp screaming ticks of pain through the rest of his old body, gossiping like old hens. She nudges his arm and he watches her with a sheepish glint of his eyes and a smile that tugs a bit higher to hear the soft oh Asta, because gods, he knows that was one hell of a time to misunderstand.
His arm sweeps around her shoulder easily as she tucks in against his side, the water sloshing slightly with the movement up his chest to relieve some long dead pain that continues to ghost through his scars. “Essentially.” He murmurs with a small shrug. “And that he wished for me to stay in one piece so he did not have to worry constantly.” Which he could absolutely understand. He was, after all, equally as protective when Danta was gone. Except he typically didn’t get into trouble the way that Asta tends to.
“Which is partially the reason I told him to take a vacation with zero holds barred. I believe he is spending it with your… step father?” He can’t hide the way his tail lashes a little beneath the warm water at the thought of the Flood. “And I promised him I would stay out of trouble by spending time with my favorite Queen.” He tilts his head toward her with that still too sharp grin, warm and appreciative of her friendship as he squeezes her shoulders slightly.
After all, she and Jack had been dating when he’d gone and had kids with a goddess. Which was messy in its own right.
But the butcher also can’t imagine having children, the mere thought brushes up against every portion of his soul still encapsulated by the harsh snows of Whitebrim. It’s more survival than anything, and nothing like it once was, but Asta can’t help but to try to avoid that at all costs.
Luckily, it isn’t something he has to worry about. Instead he can sit here beside his beautiful friend, healing in waters that have cut through the ache of his bones and the sharp screaming ticks of pain through the rest of his old body, gossiping like old hens. She nudges his arm and he watches her with a sheepish glint of his eyes and a smile that tugs a bit higher to hear the soft oh Asta, because gods, he knows that was one hell of a time to misunderstand.
His arm sweeps around her shoulder easily as she tucks in against his side, the water sloshing slightly with the movement up his chest to relieve some long dead pain that continues to ghost through his scars. “Essentially.” He murmurs with a small shrug. “And that he wished for me to stay in one piece so he did not have to worry constantly.” Which he could absolutely understand. He was, after all, equally as protective when Danta was gone. Except he typically didn’t get into trouble the way that Asta tends to.
“Which is partially the reason I told him to take a vacation with zero holds barred. I believe he is spending it with your… step father?” He can’t hide the way his tail lashes a little beneath the warm water at the thought of the Flood. “And I promised him I would stay out of trouble by spending time with my favorite Queen.” He tilts his head toward her with that still too sharp grin, warm and appreciative of her friendship as he squeezes her shoulders slightly.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
