[Despite having an earlier conversation about the terrifying concept of reality-bending constructs and acknowledging how much goes unknown to them, the Ascian clings to the idea that he'll be hurt in accepting that the two of them have emotions for each other that run caring. Mettaton pauses, not a sign of movement on part of a robot usually always moving in at least some way. He glares into Emet-Selch's neck with an accompanying feeling of conviction. It's as he suspected, and he finds his hand tracing away from his waist and sneaking up his back as he closes his eye, pulling him tight and rubbing his back. It feels like what he wants to do, in a situation like this one.
And yet the stroking of his ears is really, really nice. He can think around it, though. They flatten receptively under his touch, fur soft and flesh beyond feverish from their earlier heights of pleasure.
He could spell it out for him, the true end to their encounter in Aefenglom. It will be either an eventually painless one, where Emet-Selch forgets him completely and meets his designated fate. Or, if he remembers and is burdened by heartache for all he met here, something much greater would be happening to all of reality. Not to remember only the bits and pieces of Alphys's universal theories, but if he remembers one thing (and actually pays mind to, now that so many universes have converged in this place), it's that reality won't be the same. Everything will be in some way affected, and who knows what would happen from there?
But Emet-Selch is smart, and he feels he could reach such a conclusion. Either way, he doesn't think telling him that right now is the kind of reassurance he wants to offer when it wouldn't solve the core of his apprehension. The apprehension that stems from getting close others and knowing he'd inevitably lose them, when loss simply happens.]
You can't...? But you said it yourself. Can or can't, you have to.
[If Emet-Selch remembered, so too would he. And that still means he could carry out his plan, though he'd like very much not to be re-categorized as a killer robot instead of a lovable star... (Nothing a god couldn't fix.) He'd see him again, if anything. But Mettaton doesn't think that's the more important part here. Soothing him with what-ifs won't make Emet-Selch less inclined to hurt.]
If you're asking me to stop feeling, that's not happening. Come on, Hades. That's more unrealistic... than asking you to endure the potential for heartache.
[Even though he's serious, his voice is soft. He rubs his cheek against Emet-Selch's neck, giving him a possessive squeeze before going back to stroking his back in circles.]
You already know how I feel. There's no point in maintaining neutrality on the matter... Anything else would be a contradictory charade, for the both of us. Or... would you prefer that we make this into an unaffected act?
I'd prefer to hold nothing back, myself.
[And in losing him, it could only hurt just as much as the feeling they put into it. Even thinking on it dazzles Mettaton, the exhilarating dread one feels hovering over the drop of a roller coaster.]
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And yet the stroking of his ears is really, really nice. He can think around it, though. They flatten receptively under his touch, fur soft and flesh beyond feverish from their earlier heights of pleasure.
He could spell it out for him, the true end to their encounter in Aefenglom. It will be either an eventually painless one, where Emet-Selch forgets him completely and meets his designated fate. Or, if he remembers and is burdened by heartache for all he met here, something much greater would be happening to all of reality. Not to remember only the bits and pieces of Alphys's universal theories, but if he remembers one thing (and actually pays mind to, now that so many universes have converged in this place), it's that reality won't be the same. Everything will be in some way affected, and who knows what would happen from there?
But Emet-Selch is smart, and he feels he could reach such a conclusion. Either way, he doesn't think telling him that right now is the kind of reassurance he wants to offer when it wouldn't solve the core of his apprehension. The apprehension that stems from getting close others and knowing he'd inevitably lose them, when loss simply happens.]
You can't...? But you said it yourself. Can or can't, you have to.
[If Emet-Selch remembered, so too would he. And that still means he could carry out his plan, though he'd like very much not to be re-categorized as a killer robot instead of a lovable star... (Nothing a god couldn't fix.) He'd see him again, if anything. But Mettaton doesn't think that's the more important part here. Soothing him with what-ifs won't make Emet-Selch less inclined to hurt.]
If you're asking me to stop feeling, that's not happening. Come on, Hades. That's more unrealistic... than asking you to endure the potential for heartache.
[Even though he's serious, his voice is soft. He rubs his cheek against Emet-Selch's neck, giving him a possessive squeeze before going back to stroking his back in circles.]
You already know how I feel. There's no point in maintaining neutrality on the matter... Anything else would be a contradictory charade, for the both of us. Or... would you prefer that we make this into an unaffected act?
I'd prefer to hold nothing back, myself.
[And in losing him, it could only hurt just as much as the feeling they put into it. Even thinking on it dazzles Mettaton, the exhilarating dread one feels hovering over the drop of a roller coaster.]