[That was strangely threatening of a promise, which ends up hitting on his own stubbornness.]
Take it and do with it what you like, then. I won't be coming anywhere near it.
[Take his birthday so thoroughly, that it has nothing to do with him and he can just ignore the whole thing.
Though oblivious to any desires for a bite (or several; there was rarely just one), Emet-Selch would not be surprised by it. Nor would he ever think of discouraging the impulse, neither of the biting, nor of the taking of his blood. Both experiences had become... pleasant. Both the rush of pain and the thought of the accompanying drain. Perhaps even the drain itself when Mettaton took enough for him to notice the distinct way it felt as it was being pulled from him. The idea of filling his Bonded up that way, coupled with the sight of the resulting wounds left on his own body- was something that not-infrequently occurred to him.
But any chance of thinking about that now is deflected by the rest of Mettaton's reply. The first part was as expected- the kind of gifts one would get from adoring fans, and though by their nature impersonal, the Ascian doubted that the idol would scorn them. For a love of the attention, a receiving of adoration that was only to be expected- but also an appreciation of their feelings expressed.
But it's the second part that gets his attention, and it softens him a little to think about. That the morose and depressive ghost would still manage to find the energy to put something together for their cousin. And of course Mettaton would appreciate it, regardless of the gift's actual quality- because it was for him, because someone important cared enough for him to try. That Mettaton would choose to disclose this moment to him at all, while knowing how reticent he was of his past- also mattered.
It takes him some moments to reply.]
Your cousin must care for you a great deal.
[And how awkward it inevitably would be, when he revealed who he was to them. It was the sort of thought that has him want to pull the idol into an embrace, to press his face to his throat.]
I don't think I could ever match something so earnest... but I suppose I'll have to try to find you something appropriate when the season turns.
no subject
Take it and do with it what you like, then. I won't be coming anywhere near it.
[Take his birthday so thoroughly, that it has nothing to do with him and he can just ignore the whole thing.
Though oblivious to any desires for a bite (or several; there was rarely just one), Emet-Selch would not be surprised by it. Nor would he ever think of discouraging the impulse, neither of the biting, nor of the taking of his blood. Both experiences had become... pleasant. Both the rush of pain and the thought of the accompanying drain. Perhaps even the drain itself when Mettaton took enough for him to notice the distinct way it felt as it was being pulled from him. The idea of filling his Bonded up that way, coupled with the sight of the resulting wounds left on his own body- was something that not-infrequently occurred to him.
But any chance of thinking about that now is deflected by the rest of Mettaton's reply. The first part was as expected- the kind of gifts one would get from adoring fans, and though by their nature impersonal, the Ascian doubted that the idol would scorn them. For a love of the attention, a receiving of adoration that was only to be expected- but also an appreciation of their feelings expressed.
But it's the second part that gets his attention, and it softens him a little to think about. That the morose and depressive ghost would still manage to find the energy to put something together for their cousin. And of course Mettaton would appreciate it, regardless of the gift's actual quality- because it was for him, because someone important cared enough for him to try. That Mettaton would choose to disclose this moment to him at all, while knowing how reticent he was of his past- also mattered.
It takes him some moments to reply.]
Your cousin must care for you a great deal.
[And how awkward it inevitably would be, when he revealed who he was to them. It was the sort of thought that has him want to pull the idol into an embrace, to press his face to his throat.]
I don't think I could ever match something so earnest... but I suppose I'll have to try to find you something appropriate when the season turns.