![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
extramortem) wrote2023-12-31 12:44 pm
golden peacock | inbox
▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
17 / male / interested in: men / 6♠
Details
Prior to arriving here, I was a new demon applying myself to learn everything I could about Hell and its rules as well as demons and the games that they play among one another. Prior to that, I was human—a student in school.
Anything else you want to know about me, you will have to ask me yourself.
Regardless of whether I’m here or in Hell, my goal is the same: I want to learn everything I can about this place and its people, and then I want to utilize the rules and rewards of the Game to best benefit myself. I want to discover what it means to become “powerful” in this place, and I plan on collecting cards and climbing ranks in order to do so—and on my own terms.
Determination and adaptability.
I’m interested in anything thrilling, frightening, or mysterious. Beyond that, I’m willing to try any number of new things, though I typically tend to focus on whatever is capturing my interest at the time. As for food, I would say that my sweet tooth is comparatively underdeveloped—I tend to prefer savory food, though I would be happy to share sweets with another.
What’s most important to me is that it’s someone who accepts me and loves me for everything that I am.
…Though, if he’s attractive, that would certainly be a bonus.
Wine
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
…Neither
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Bath
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Seriously? Neither. This is kind of childish…
.05 TITS OR ASS
Depends
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
Either
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Winter
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Lace
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
Both have their place, I think…
INTJ-T
🔞 cw: fucked up demons, honestly.
Makoto is speaking, and Kazuya huffs breathes as he does, his voice so far away in his head that it takes him a moment to actually realize what it is he's saying. He blinks once. Twice, as the words connect to their meanings. Makoto is allowing him to bite him in return. To potentially inflict the same wounds he had done on him, and there's a part of him that laughs, cruel and wicked, because Makoto has no way to stop him if that's what he wanted to do anyway, and that simply by saying it he's allowing the illusion of it being his own decision of whether or not Kazuya does.
It's the other part of him that startles back as it thinks that, because Makoto is his friend. There's trust between them, and that much is obvious with how he's allowed and encouraged Makoto's ferocious behaviour that he simply wouldn't allow from anyone else. Still, his teeth ache at the allowance, and he wants to bite him, to tear into him as ferociously and-
Kazuya's hands move, pulling Makoto against him as he presses their foreheads together once more. If Makoto's eyes are near incandescent, than Kazuya's are glowing themselves, a red hot ember that's waiting to spark into a violent, all consuming wildfire.
All it needs is the right breeze.]
Can I mark you?
[His voice is quiet and rough as he shares in the other demons breath. If Makoto doesn't want him to, he wont. If Makoto is content with bites and only bites, that's also fine, and whatever damage he inflicts, he'll heal. He might say he doesn't heal like Kazuya does, but Kazuya is the Overlord, and with it, he has a wellspring of magic at his fingertips. He could tear Makoto's throat out like he'd done to him, spray his blood and paint the room with it and then heal it back as if it had been nothing, and he'd be lying if he said the thought wasn't appealing.
These are the dark wants, the dark urges he keeps tamped down, hidden away behind an unassuming guise. The last thing he really wants to do is feed them lest they grown, but maybe... If he does it here, where there isn't as much risk, then they'll just be satiated for a bit.]
🔞
it seems worthwhile to him in the moment, because… it will bring himself and kazuya closer together in his mind. and that isn’t necessarily intended in a wholesome, intimate way: the darker, more nasty parts of makoto also want it because it would mean that he would be dragging someone else, someone who might have been any of his classmates from when he was still human, down into the mud on his own level. kazuya’s soul is already tarnished and affected by the results of his own actions, but if makoto can have a hand in magnifying that… there’s deep gratification in that, to him.
it’s true that makoto couldn’t stop kazuya from what he really wanted from him either way, but he has to wonder—would he also find it almost meaning more, when it’s willingly given? the trust in that is so tantalizing that it’s almost dizzying. even if makoto had the strength to take what he wanted from people… he feels as though he would always prefer to sink his teeth into that feeling of intimacy when offered instead.
kazuya pulls him in closer once more; face to face, their foreheads pressed together, makoto looks unblinking into the fiery glare of the other demon’s eyes, trying to read from them what he wanted before he gave it voice. when he does, though, he pauses. even more than hearing it, he can feel the bone-deep want welling up from the request that echoes through everything makoto has felt and wanted in so many years of his life. a pulse of sympathy goes through him; a throb of mirrored desire. he wants to give it to him, he does, but— )
I… ( he hesitates. it’s not a refusal, but he has to ask, ) Tell me exactly what you want to do first.
( though if kazuya asked him if trying to feed the darkness within in bits and pieces, hoping that would be enough to satisfy it into vanishing, was a valid strategy… he would only have to brokenly laugh. in his experience, it has only made them worse—as if giving light to them made their shadows grow ever longer, impossible to ignore in the mind as they sunk grasping roots throughout the rest of the body. )
no subject
He sits, quietly, arousal still buzzing heavily in his system as he thumbs the back of Makoto's neck, still shares in his heated breath as his body thrums in their shared heat.
Just as before, his voice is still quiet and rough, and there's an almost pleading, sighing way he explains.]
Bite you. It doesn't matter where, [Though his throat and neck are the most tempting spots, and he licks his teeth for it.] Then... Stop you from healing. Just long enough to scar. [Something permanent, something tangible and real, but Kazuya also inhales sharply, seemingly coming out of his haze, his trace, at least momentarily.] It doesn't have to be forever permanent. I can heal it for real after, if you don't want to keep it for long.
[Even just knowing it'd be on him a few hours would be enough to satisfy him, even if neither of them ended up leaving this room and just lounged around basking in the afterglow of whatever the hell this was. Is.]
no subject
of course, he presently doesn’t even know that he would have increased healing ability from having drank kazuya’s blood and eaten his flesh—that would be a totally new thing he’d have to figure out.
the cyclical motion of kazuya’s thumb across the back of his neck tangles a confused feeling into all the rest that are swimming through makoto now, all arousal and excitement and pent up energy with nowhere to go. he listens, and his brow furrows as he does so—perhaps kazuya would interpret it as reluctance, but he’s just trying to figure out how kazuya’s desire would make sense with how he knows his body responds to injury.
he replies slowly but methodically. ) I’ve been bitten and scratched before… Besides the one on my neck, I don’t even think this body does scar. ( he pauses. ) I just don’t want to—disappoint you, if it doesn’t work out the way you want. But, the way I heal is a lot slower than you. …You’d have a lot more time to appreciate it than I do.
( a little bit of jealousy? maybe. kazuya’s probably already healed from the injuries makoto’s given him.
he pauses, then nods, resolved. ) As long as you’re okay with that… Okay. I’ll let you do it. ( his hands tighten on the bedspread below them. )
no subject
That's fine. If I can manage to leave one on you, I'll let you leave one on me too.
[Since it seems like that's something that Makoto wants, given the way he speaks about appreciating his work. The work which saw him leave messy gouges into Kazuya's flesh that only remain in darkened thick blood that's quickly diminishing with every second, but that Makoto had enjoyed so immensely leaving on him. If he likes it so, then what's one more scar? There are eternities left for him to live, and this could be a reminder that there is in fact someone else just like him out there when he eventually returns home.
Kazuya's kisses grow harder as he reaches the junction of his throat, somewhere just above the stitches and he presses his teeth against the spot, nips and sucks a mark into the area as he wars with himself on where exactly he wants to leave this mark of his. There's the option of somewhere bold, somewhere open and visible to everyone, like higher up on his throat, where nothing short of a turtleneck would cover. He has a feeling that Makoto might not like that though. The other demon is far too covert for that sort of thing, and so he moves his mouth lower on his neck, though he does stop to worry those stitches with his teeth first.]
🔞
he opens himself up to it nonetheless, lifting his head so he could bare the long stretch of his throat, marred as it is already with the sewn scar spanning its circumference. something squirms in the pit of his stomach as kazuya mentions letting him leave a mark on him in return. could he do that? he hadn’t gotten the sense that anything he’d do to him would last, given how long he’d been healing, but… just thinking about being able to see a scar on his body that he’d left there… he again throbs with want.
it’s something that only heightens and intensifies as kazuya’s attentions drift steadily lower, kissing and nipping and sucking until he leaves a bruise in the soft, vulnerable delta of skin just beneath the delineation of his jaw. his breathing gets quicker and heavier, and he reaches out to grab at where kazuya’s shirt is rucked up just under his arms, pulling him not only closer but forward, encouraging a reversal in positions so that now makoto is lying back on the bed with kazuya over him. no, it’s not necessarily his preference, but he figures if kazuya wants to bite him bad enough to potentially scar him, it’s best if he’s lying down for it—that, and he can better grind up against him from this vantage, and that’s something that he absolutely does when the other demon mouths slightly lower to begin to tug at the stitches across his throat with his teeth. something tight in makoto grows taut enough to threaten to snap—warm breath leaves him in what is far closer to a wanting gasp than he would like to admit, and he moves one hand behind kazuya’s head and into his hair to encourage him in what he is doing, the other moving in the opposite direction to grab roughly at his ass and pull him into himself in the same moment that he lifts his hips, desperate for whatever friction he can manage for his straining cock.
honestly, kazuya doesn’t even need to bite him here ultimately—it’s kind of already firmly marked with a scar as-is—but it’s just not something he can force himself to ignore, not when the pleasure-pain that always needles him whenever anyone gives undue attention to the wound at his throat is as strong and enticing as it is. )
🔞
The touching, the skin against skin against teeth, ripping and tearing and swallowing. It's intimate in a way that he's never really thought about, never experienced before now, and he's not sure how all the pieces of it fit together yet. He likes it, the closeness it brings, the way Makoto enjoys sinking his teeth into his skin, even if the pain is something he's not quite on board with. Though it's not as bad as it was when they started, when Makoto had torn the throat he'd bared to him out, and maybe the key to it is just a little distraction, something to ease the sharp sting of teeth.
The hand on his cock had been a fairly good start for him, Makoto rocking against him in turn had been good in general, so maybe he can offer that same beat, that pain intermingled with pleasure as he bites down finally, finally on the crux of his neck and shoulder, sinking sharp teeth into him deep as he rolls his hips against him hard and firm. This is where he's decided to leave this mark of his, and as Makoto's blood wells up in his mouth and sets alight other pleasant receptors in his brain, he forces a bead of magic into the wound as he cants his head, tears at him with that same fervour that Makoto had previously. It feels... Right. To consume him in turn, the same way the younger demon had torn chunks from his own body to whet his appetite.]
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
it makes his heart race, causing his blood to thud through his veins and through his cock; a small, ragged sound catches in the back of his throat as kazuya takes hold of his hip to better angle them as they grind against one another. it’s only at around this point that makoto becomes completely fed up with the fact that he’s still partially clothed, but it’s not exactly something he’s in the best position to change right now. he relegates himself to wait, now feeling the burgeoning impatience that kazuya had shown several minutes earlier.
it’s a dreadful trepidation, waiting for kazuya to determine where exactly it is he wants to sink his teeth into him. makoto’s breathing comes quick and harsh, the sound of his pulse in his ears thinning out to a single, high note. his hands grasp and knead at him, dragging dull fingernails against his scalp and lower back—he doesn’t exactly anticipate the pain, and he’s certain he won’t relish it, but he wants to confront it head-on now rather than be left guessing when it would happen—
he doesn’t have to wait that much longer. sharp demon teeth pick out a spot at the smooth curve of flesh where the neck and shoulder meet, shearing through skin and meat just above the border of the clavicle. pain forms an immediate and overwhelming block in his mind; a wedge that drives itself into the grey matter of his brain, making it almost impossible to think about anything else. he gasps and then cries out, and the sound shatters in his throat, its anguished shards like broken glass. he isn’t like J; he has no ability to dull his sense of pain, and to allow someone to do this, to tear away from the body ragged pieces of flesh that were swallowed in mouthfuls of hot, metallic blood—he had always asked J if it was too much, badgering him if the pain was too great, but he’d never understood how much it really was. maybe it’s good for makoto to understand just what it is he expects others to weather for his own pleasure. tears well in the corners of his eyes, but—as seconds pass, he realizes that the pain isn’t the only thing here. what he first comes to realize past the boundary of his own consciousness is kazuya and his eagerness; how fully he throws himself into emulating what makoto had just done, not only devouring him but enjoying himself as he does it. yes, he does determinedly roll his hips against makoto’s as he does it, still hard, and regardless of whether it’s putting a mark onto his body or the heady rush of blood that wells up from the wound or the satisfaction of consuming flesh willingly given, kazuya is with makoto in this, gratifying specifically from this, and it’s all just—something that he never expected to share with another person, and especially not one who felt so similar to him and his own background as kazuya.
he doesn’t want him to stop, even if it hurts. if kazuya decides to react with any concern to makoto’s cry of pain or the reactive stiffness that’s shot through every muscle in his body, makoto will reject it by holding his head right to where it had been; it’s just something he will have to deal with. but there is pleasure embedded with that sheer wall, and he chases after it—he reaches out with a tremulous hand between them to fumble at the front of his trousers, managing to undo them after some trial and error, and free his own aching cock. he tries to take them both in hand as best as he can, streaking precum from where it beaded at the head down their length, rubbing them together and beating them off as best he can. his breathing picks up, no longer actively pained and instead shallow and airy with intensifying pleasure. sweat beads at his temple. this is certainly not the best he can in general, given the suboptimal angle and position and the horrible pain in his other shoulder, but for him, for what’s happening right now, it’s enough—it allows him a spark of pleasure to lock onto and focus on amidst the pain, and one that grows only stronger as he can feel kazuya getting off on this just as much as he is. )
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
With the skin out of the way, Kazuya holds his mouth there, tongue digging into the mess of torn muscle and sinew as he slowly eases magic into Makoto's body. Something that might feel relieving, like a cold wash over the area as he makes it so that Makoto can't heal himself, something that's chased by something much warmer, more soothing as he works the spells in tandem to heal and halt and heal the wound given until it's messily knitted back together, dimpled and scarred in jagged lines of teeth. Like the ones that other demons had left on Kazuya himself, back before he'd been able to shrug off such things with ease. It doesn't take too long, half a minute or maybe slightly more if anything, but it feels like an eternity as he laps up the blood from the flesh that knits itself back together roughly.
It's a good thing it doesn't take so long, because the moment Makoto takes them both in his hand, gives pressure to his own aching cock, strokes both of them together, Kazuya inhales sharply, unable to stop the buck of his hips into the tight hold. It's almost too much, between the gratification of leaving a mark and the physical sensation of his cock being tended to. He ducks his head further against Makoto's neck, swears into the skin in a breathy, needy manner, and kisses him. Kisses the skin of his neck and shoulder so affectionately that one would never guess the grievous wound he'd inflicted and healed only moments prior. He didn't even realize how close he was, the feeling in his gut churning and tightening with so little contact.]
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
the feeling of kazuya’s tongue being forced into the wound forces a sharper, more higher-pitched whine out of makoto. at this point he really has trouble figuring out if it’s from pleasure or pain because he feels both so strongly; that, combined with how odd it is to physically feel someone’s tongue moving inside of you, forces it out of him beyond his attempt to contain. it precedes something that makoto only realizes after a belated moment of confusion must be magic. it washes over him like a sudden rain which stops just as suddenly as it had started, then again, and again, and it’s such an overwhelmingly confounding feeling that makoto can’t help but squirm underneath kazuya, made restless by the careful manipulation of magic coaxing something that would’ve otherwise been impossible upon this body: a scar, albeit a temporary one, placed with gratuitous devotion
by the end of it makoto is panting, likely just as desperate for release as kazuya is—but, just as easy as it would be to try to chase both of them to that end, there’s a part of makoto that’s just as greedy as it is foolish (and not to mention prideful), which doesn’t want to allow himself to come just yet because he wants the satisfaction of coming to doing exactly what kazuya had just done to him. so as kazuya reacts strongly to his touch, leaning forward to press his head to the curve of his neck and kiss the knotted scar that was the only testament to the wound that had been ravaged there moments before, makoto’s hand shifts to wrap fully around the other demon’s cock, for the moment neglecting his own to pump with shameless efficacy. he focuses on the sensation of lips and tongue moving both sensually and salaciously against the contrived scar, urging kazuya towards climax while selfishly thinking that he does so just past the threshold of the other demon devouring his own flesh, putting a possessive mark onto his own skin…
fuck, fuck, fuck—he wants to come so badly, but he just doesn’t want to yet, not before he’s left a similar mark of his own on him. )
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
His whole body shivers as he cums, shudders against Makoto and lets his hips jerk shakily into his hand, only to slow and relax a few seconds later.
Whatever this was, it was intense. Something that sent not just pleasant little waves though his body, but through his brain as well. The satisfaction he feels is whole, though he tries not to slacken too much. He's on top of Makoto, and though he's feather light, he still doesn't want to-
It's a belated realization. Makoto hasn't yet come himself. Hasn't yet let go to that same high Kazuya has, and his hand scrambles down between them, attempting to fist around the other Demon's cock so he can beat him off in turn.]
🔞 cannibalism mention
and then he climaxes in a rush, all at once, cock hot and throbbing as he cums in his hand. makoto can’t manage to fully suppress a small gasp; he bites his lip, concentrating, even though what every fiber of his being screams out for him to do is to take himself in his own hand and finish himself off so they can come together—he’s so close he doesn’t think it would take much at all. not doing so, forcing himself to wait just a little longer… it elicits an ache inside of him that’s painful in an altogether different way.
he starts a little as kazuya, slumped against him, realizes this inequity as well. he squirms, stammering, ) W - Wai—aaaahh, ( the protest tearing away into an almost anguished moan as kazuya’s fingers wrap around his cock—he has to quickly reach down to grab the other demon’s wrist, hand shaking, arm shaking, every muscle in his body feeling like it’s strung taut in this precipitous moment. he looks up to kazuya through long eyelashes made heavy with dewy moisture, and his voice squeaks in a way he finds horribly embarrassing before he finally manages to explain, ) I - I want to, too—leave a mark. Can you make it so that I can? I, ( he breathes a ragged breath; somewhere deep inside of him there’s a part of him that’s desperate enough to beg, to say please, but his ironclad pride throttles it, smothering it in its crib, ) I don’t want to come until then…
( because, yes, before he had torn into kazuya’s flesh with nothing but teeth and desire and hunger, but whatever injury he might have left there was already gone—and the scar he had torn anew had been left by someone else. he wants one that he knows is his, and he wants it so badly that his cock throbs in kazuya’s hand at the mention of it, at the thought of it; his grip on kazuya’s wrist tightening, he has to once again bite his lip, this time hard enough to draw blood, to keep himself focused on that, because he knows he will come all that much harder if he’s scarred him in a way that’s all his own. )
no subject
It takes him a second or two to process the words. He wants to leave a mark. Kazuya nods, slowly, pulling his hand away as his chest heaves with the exertion of everything that's just happened despite the fact he doesn't need to breathe anymore. It's reflex, mostly, and he pulls himself the rest of the way away, moving so that he's laying parallel to the other demon who's desires aren't so different from his own.
Kazuya licks his lips, a slow thrum of apprehension in his gut, though it's mostly outclassed by the intensity of the orgasm just experienced.]
Where did you want...?
[He has to know where it is to focus his magic, because there's no way he'd be able to manage something full body like that right now, and he's not sure he wants to, after the experience of having his throat torn out.
Not that it was entirely terrible. It had been more... enticing than he'd thought it might be.]
🔞 cannibalism/vore again...
where… thought slowly churns through his mind, inhibited and distracted by near-overwhelming feeling of having stopped himself so close to the edge. it would certainly be a statement to mark kazuya somewhere visible, but it also seems something too forward to impress so early upon him. the young demon inches infinitesimally closer to him, neck bent so that his forehead rests just against the notch between his clavicles. his lips press to skin just beneath that spot with feather lightness, mouthing over to the side until he finds a place beneath the line of his clavicle but several inches above his heart. )
Here, ( he manages in a hoarse sound scarcely above a whisper; everything inside of him screams to bite into him now, but he forces himself to wait. it’s almost as painful as holding himself at the precipice of orgasm. he continues, gritting, ) …Let me know when.
( and he waits, though only just enough. the second kazuya gives him indication that he and his magic are ready, makoto lurches forward with a half-gasp of breath, blunt, human teeth driving into skin with violent, reckless abandon. the precision with which he tears away flesh from his body is a type that is practiced; he moans throatily into the wound as blood rushes up from it, around a mouthful that he savors with a fevered sort of ecstacy before swallowing. it’s at the same moment that he reaches out to kazuya’s hand to pull it back to his cock, all at once going from so little sensation to so much that it’s almost overwhelming in conjunction with the meat that slides down his throat. really, kazuya barely needs to pump his hand a few times before makoto hits his own climax shortly after swallowing, content in his internal perception of the shallow wound he’d left to scar on the other demon—he presses as close as he possibly can to kazuya in that moment, every line of muscle in his body drawn tense enough to snap, before the heat in his cock seems to focus into one final pulse, and he cums, hard, into the space between them. a harsh-sounding cry is torn out of him in the same moment before he collapses, half into the bed and half against kazuya.
though, in the eddying haze of his orgasm, feeling the occasional spasm and shudder of muscle beneath skin slick with sweat, blood, and semen, he forces his eyes open to watch that kazuya does as he’d said: that he manages to preserve the wound as a scar. something all of makoto’s own that he would keep forever. )
vore, vore never changes
So yes, Kazuya makes another noise as he's torn into, something that's a half grunt, half whimper as he strokes Makoto while trying to focus his magic and trying to not falter in either because it takes effort on both accounts. To stem the flow of the stasis of his body, to prevent smooth, even healing as it would like, to force a new normal on it.
One he hopes will stay. Maybe like he can make Makoto stay pressed against him, arm and unused hand coming up to grip and pull him against his body. Yes, there's a wound there, mangled and bitten flesh knitted together roughly. One that's still bleeding, even as it's forced to heal slower.]
no subject
after the flow of blood stops, he lies there against kazuya, his heart and breathing gradually slowing to a normal rate. heat ebbs and leaves his skin, leaving ripples of gooseflesh to dance across its surface as sweat cools to leave him feeling slightly chilly—but only slightly.
it’s always in the absence of the heat and rush and thrill of passion that sense begins to seep back into makoto. worry. concern. doubt and fear. thinking back on all that had happened, he feels as though he shouldn’t have any reason—everything that they’d done, kazuya had agreed to, participated in himself even—but still, anxiety hounds him. after a long moment of trying to decide how to ask whether or not his friend would find him disgusting for what he had done, he decides to instead ask in a small and questing tone of voice, ) So… was that what you had in mind, when you asked me about trying this sort of thing…?
no subject
[But it comes with a good natured, breathy and tired laugh and Kazuya pulling Makoto tighter against him with an accompanying soft sigh of contentment. No, never in his wildest dreams or imagination did he ever consider that maybe he might like not just being bitten, but readily consumed, and to consume in turn. It's a part of him he'll think about later, over how much of that is him, and how much it might be his new nature, but in this moment it doesn't really matter, satisfied as it was.
It's also relieving that he could indulge in something like that in the first place without any actual fear of real harm or judgment. After all, Makoto was a demon too, and one who had also indulged in swallowing down mouthfuls of Kazuya's own flesh. Something the other Bel's in him rage and rally against, but he feels too content to pay them any sort of mind. Being Makoto's glorified chew toy hadn't been a terrible experience, especially seeing how into it the other demon had been. How lost in the fervent heat of it all he'd become.]
I know I kind of encouraged it, but I really only thought you'd bite hard enough to draw blood and stop there. I'm glad you didn't.
no subject
I didn’t plan on doing more than that. ( he frowns, and he continues in a low grumble, ) You just—tasted so good… It just sort of happened.
( his blood heats under his face, but it’s only in embarrassment. he continues to insistently hide his face.
but his curiosity drives him more than the tattered remains of his human feeling of shame at the moment. ) Was… there any part of it that you enjoyed? And, I mean—not just getting off on it, ( since there’s at least a moderate amount of physical evidence to show that both of them had gotten off on it enough, ) but did you like it, personally?
( there’s a distinction to makoto. sure, he’d gotten off when he lost his virginity to fjord, but it’s not as though he’d ever want to replay the specifics as to how that happened—he’d hated everything about it. it’s just not something that he wants to make any erroneous assumptions about for kazuya. )
no subject
[That's something he hadn't expected to hear. That he'd apparently tasted good. He wonders what part of him constitutes tasting good. Is it his own lowered version of Magnetite? Or is it in turn the part of Weiss he's been feeding off of since their contract that makes him taste good in turn? They say you are what you eat, after all.
Though maybe it also might just be the taste of the other Bel's, in that case, though he can't particularly say any of them had been enjoyable to absorb, but maybe that's because he hadn't actually become a demon yet either. Plenty to ponder on, and no answers in sight, it seems. Which is fine, because Makoto asks him another question that seems... A bit silly. Did he enjoy it? What had happened? In his mind the answer is a very clear "Duh, obviously" considering that he had gotten off to it. He wouldn't have gotten off to it if he hadn't, right?
That doesn't seem to be the answer the younger demon is fishing for, however, so he takes a few silent seconds to ponder it.]
I enjoyed all of it. But I think my favourite part was seeing how much you enjoyed yourself? Knowing that you were getting so much out of what you were doing to me was... Really hot. Not that the biting wasn't, or even when I was biting you too, but it's more that watching your face and just how into it you were, how eager you were was what I liked most.
[Only this dumbass would admit that he liked being consumed.]
no subject
( there’s a dreaminess in the murmured admission; he can’t say why either, but that’s simply the case. typically flavor doesn’t have much influence on his kink—for the most part, in his experience, flesh and blood just taste like flesh and blood, though offal and other organs can be a bit different. he had admitted frankly to J that he had started to tire of the taste after having eaten around half of his body; he had resorted to things like soy sauce and ponzu to provide a little more interest in that arena. he isn’t sure if that would be the case with kazuya. could he tire of eating someone who had such bizarre sweetness to their blood?
makoto is tense, and the two are far too close for it to be something he can hide. he waits, and when kazuya answers, his breath catches in his throat. he moves a little bit so he can look up to kazuya rather than hide his face away, brows knitting together as he tries to grapple with the sort of reply to this he’d never even considered he might receive. )
Really? You—even though I… ( he stumbles over his words far more than kazuya did in his explanation, something like three or four or more years’ worth of steadily-accumulating fears and anxieties forming trip-wires in his throat. he blushes fiercely, the tips of his ears burning red-hot.
he tries to find a different way to phrase it that hopefully wouldn’t be received as obvious or annoying. ) I-I just always thought that others would be grossed out by it, though—I didn’t really expect you to want to do it as well. ( his arms tighten around kazuya’s waist. ) I thought I wouldn’t really like it if it were done to me, but… it was really thrilling, and I was really excited when I noticed that you seemed to like it too…
no subject
[Since they'd agreed on "biting" and "Maybe blood", and not "Active Consumption of Each other". He's been chewed on by plenty of demons as of very recently, and while now he gets to add Makoto to the list, he can safely put him in the list that contains only him of people he'd enjoyed getting consumed by.
Funny, that.]
I think it's more the context of it that I like? Because I can trust you to not go too far, or stop if I asked. Even though you were really into it, you seemed like... You were careful about it.
[It's the only way he can describe it, honestly. That even Makoto, absolutely delirious with want and desire and a need to consume, was still careful to not take too much or go further than Kazuya thinks he might have been ready for.
Though it's not like he'd been ready to be eaten like he was to begin with either.]
And... It's weird, but it's I'm not grossed out by it. Weird in the way that it's kind of novel, I guess?
[It's so hard to describe how he feels about something that's only happened once, and has just happened at that. He hasn't had any time to ruminate on it! Or pick apart his feelings on the matter.
His hand idly moves, rubbing Makoto's back as he holds him close.]
I don't think I'd mind doing it again, with you.
no subject
but, then again, it’s at least nice to see that effort recognized. he nods slowly, glancing away. ) Yeah, I… I was trying to be.
( perhaps he might not have been able to hold himself back if he hadn’t been so afraid of pushing too far and alienating himself from the first friend he’d made here. it’s not as though he had ever engaged in self-control when he was contracted to J, but he has done so in other arenas of his life. curtailing and attempting to contain his more violent impulses has become almost second-nature, regardless of the ones that still manage to bubble up to the surface.
he breathes in, then the breathes out—he doesn’t speak up to reply, as if doing so would shatter what he perceives as an incredibly fragile moment of potential understanding. he has to remind himself that this was a desire that kazuya was seemingly unaware of up until this moment. he’s not like how makoto had been, on one level or another craving to consume someone for years before he had actually managed to do so with J. he doesn’t want to push him. he should have time to think through it and come to his own understanding of it. he can only hope that, with that, comes some appreciation—some willingness…
it’s as he’s thinking this that kazuya admits that such a hope is not only unfounded but confirmed far sooner than makoto might have thought. his gaze flies back to his friend’s face, wide-eyed and a little wild, more dumbfounded than over-eager (though it’s not to say there’s no bright eagerness there…). ) Are you sure? ( he stumbles over the words, having to take a moment to reconstitute himself before continuing, ) I mean, you—you don’t have to decide something like that right now. You can think about it. But, um… ( the grasp of his hands tighten; the dull half-moons of his short fingernails dig plaintively into skin. ) If you wanted to do it again… I would. However you might want to try it.
no subject
There will come a point where they will need a shower, yes. But right now Kazuya gets to bask in an affectionate afterglow, which makes him all that much more ameanable to what it is that Makoto says.]
I don't need to think about it.
[And it's a little strange that Makoto would tell him to? As far as he's concerned, he enjoyed it. Maybe the pain wasn't the best part about it, but everything else? That he's alright with.
He noses against the top of Makoto's head like an overly affectionate animal.]
Maybe next time we can just have ground rules? After that, then I'm fine with just about everything.
[There are, naturally, certain places he does not care for Makoto to tear into, even with his incredible healing factor.]
no subject
perhaps makoto expects kazuya to second-guess. it’s a foolish sort of thought because there’s no evidence for it, but he’s just not used to things… going well. his life has been such a steady and torturous progression of terrible experiences that he’s always in the position of waiting for the other shoe to drop. it would take a lot of time of others telling him that that’s not the case and slowly letting him realize the truth of it for himself.
for now, he huffs a small, slightly cynical laugh to himself, but says nothing. or, at least, not until he has to grouse, ) “Fine with just about everything” isn’t “ground rules.”
( those are two opposing concepts, kazuya!! though, if it’s something like “don’t bite my dick off,” that’s pretty valid. makoto wouldn’t want kazuya biting his off either, thank-you-very-much.
but, whatever. they have time (apparently infinite??) to figure all of that out. for now, he’s content to momentarily bask in the warm feeling of awe at the miracle of finding a friend who might actually accept him for all the parts of what he is—even those left largely unseen and unspoken of. )
Alright. We can talk about it later.