[His mind goes blank; his ears stand tall. Mettaton trembles, everything about Emet-Selch overpowering him absolutely. Were he not so deeply aroused by the notion, the quality of Emet-Selch's voice and the deepening proximity, the desire for more of him, the idol would have some valid complaints. But right now, it's frightening, and therefore thrilling, and he wants it. He feels like he just set himself up, the terrifying notion that in closing in on something he desires, he's been taken up by it in return. The thought that Emet-Selch would demand that he keep him catches him off guard, because most people want agency over their own souls, not to be trapped.
And in being gripped onto, Mettaton gives in further. Feeling the sheer pressure of the Ascian's soul, the being of someone who has unfathomable power in his own right, he can almost feel the insinuation: take him, and be taken right back. Why would someone who could possess hosts of others have to surrender Mettaton's very own body back to him if he didn't wish to leave it? He wouldn't have to let him go, even when it was him who was absorbed in the first place.
Mettaton turns his head, his lips parted but lingering against Emet-Selch's while he tries to process it all. This is being overwhelmed; his arms tighten by a margin, gripping onto his Bonded while his ears fold back. He would have to submit to that.
What more could an idol want than to be craved constantly? This isn't a situation where he could simply do as he wished, even if that's how he operates. If Mettaton says he wouldn't leave, Emet-Selch wouldn't let him. That intensity's what he finds so attractive about Emet-Selch, after all.
Mettaton opens his eye and smiles against the other man's lips, dizzy and daunted but equally tantalized. His attention feels split between mind and body. Yet who could he have an experience that measures up to this with but the Ascian before him? He's all but lost his senses, having his attention spread between the power of Emet-Selch beyond what he can see and the power of him forcing himself against him.
Mettaton sighs, a sound smooth and soft.]
...We'll... have to see. Who... Who makes the decision. That I get to keep you.
[Because what if Emet-Selch did overwhelm him? If he didn't, it would be Mettaton's choice. That would be a dangerous line to tread, getting two incorporeal spirits in one body. Mettaton continues to tremble slightly, but he moves his body closer to Emet-Selch's. Receptive or demanding, it's a blend of both.]
no subject
[His mind goes blank; his ears stand tall. Mettaton trembles, everything about Emet-Selch overpowering him absolutely. Were he not so deeply aroused by the notion, the quality of Emet-Selch's voice and the deepening proximity, the desire for more of him, the idol would have some valid complaints. But right now, it's frightening, and therefore thrilling, and he wants it. He feels like he just set himself up, the terrifying notion that in closing in on something he desires, he's been taken up by it in return. The thought that Emet-Selch would demand that he keep him catches him off guard, because most people want agency over their own souls, not to be trapped.
And in being gripped onto, Mettaton gives in further. Feeling the sheer pressure of the Ascian's soul, the being of someone who has unfathomable power in his own right, he can almost feel the insinuation: take him, and be taken right back. Why would someone who could possess hosts of others have to surrender Mettaton's very own body back to him if he didn't wish to leave it? He wouldn't have to let him go, even when it was him who was absorbed in the first place.
Mettaton turns his head, his lips parted but lingering against Emet-Selch's while he tries to process it all. This is being overwhelmed; his arms tighten by a margin, gripping onto his Bonded while his ears fold back. He would have to submit to that.
What more could an idol want than to be craved constantly? This isn't a situation where he could simply do as he wished, even if that's how he operates. If Mettaton says he wouldn't leave, Emet-Selch wouldn't let him. That intensity's what he finds so attractive about Emet-Selch, after all.
Mettaton opens his eye and smiles against the other man's lips, dizzy and daunted but equally tantalized. His attention feels split between mind and body. Yet who could he have an experience that measures up to this with but the Ascian before him? He's all but lost his senses, having his attention spread between the power of Emet-Selch beyond what he can see and the power of him forcing himself against him.
Mettaton sighs, a sound smooth and soft.]
...We'll... have to see. Who... Who makes the decision. That I get to keep you.
[Because what if Emet-Selch did overwhelm him? If he didn't, it would be Mettaton's choice. That would be a dangerous line to tread, getting two incorporeal spirits in one body. Mettaton continues to tremble slightly, but he moves his body closer to Emet-Selch's. Receptive or demanding, it's a blend of both.]