Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14106273.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Neon_Genesis_Evangelion
  Relationship:
      Ikari_Shinji/Nagisa_Kaworu
  Character:
      Ikari_Shinji, Nagisa_Kaworu
  Additional Tags:
      Cannibalism, Gore, Disembowelment, gut_fucking, sexual_acts, Hints_of
      time_loop, One_Shot
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-26 Words: 3207
****** Tough Love ******
by 708_nanoseconds
Summary
     Kaworu leaned in to kiss Shinji again, but Shinji was screaming. A
     mix of emotions flooded his chest, yet he remembered that Kaworu
     loves him before anything else. Kaworu loves him. Disgust took over
     and he bit down the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt made in hopes
     of hiding discomfort, tears flowing.
     He was supposed to be afraid, but he wasn’t.
Notes
     Set in Episode 24 of the original Evangelion series, when Kaworu
     invites Shinji to his room. Probably kind of OOC!
     (Because love renders everything okay, even if it’s fucked up.)
See the end of the work for more notes
Kaworu Nagisa’s fascination with the Lilins were grand.
Born from Lilith, the Lilins were a song, a grand composition. Organic
compounds sunk perfectly in place on manuscript paper, anatomical structures
connecting, stretched out bar lines. Tissues and cells and DNA messily glued
together a somewhat broken, yet still breathtaking symphony, true work of art.
An underlying interest in Lilins’ mentality: behaviour, nature, social
psychology and emotions alike had always been present in Kaworu, and he found
that physically, Lilins were no less fascinating.
Wielding an incredibly fragile body, they carried on like it was nothing, the
inevitability of death, being killed or consumed nothing particularly worth
concerning over. By being on top of the supposed food chain, the latter
shouldn’t be a concern for the Lilins, he supposed.
And yes, lilins bodies could be consumed, apparently. An incredibly recent
discovery, all-around interesting, Kaworu mused. He could probably consume a
Lilin, if he wished to.
Admittedly, the thought of consuming a Lilin, let alone anything else had never
crossed his mind. Any form of substance intake was considerably redundant,
unnecessary for him to maintain the state of living. However, once the thought
had surfaced, it didn’t cease to exist. Him consuming something is very
different, both in purpose and meaning compared to the Lilins, with the latter
finding the action of eating necessary to stay alive. But Kaworu, he would
simply merge with what he consumes. Amalgamation, perhaps, is a word fitting
enough to describe said act.
And isn’t the thought exciting? The thought of finally, finally being able to
confidently provide a satisfactory answer to a long overdue question: A way to
become one with Shinji, to be with him forever. Human love certainly isn’t
forever, but it definitely would be if they became one.
Kaworu’s perhaps twisted ideology of love, already so incredibly vast had
suddenly expanded, exploded yet again with the discovery that yes, you could
consume who you love.
Cannibalism truly is the purest form of love.
———
Kaworu had invited the boy to his room after the day’s events ended. Softly
persisting, insisted him to come by, It would be a pleasure to have you over,
Shinji-kun. Shinji had refused the offer at first, but had given in, given up
after a bit of coaxing, usage of body language, shallow smiles, agreeing to
spend the night with the Kaworu.
Leading Shinji to his room, Kaworu turned around, motioning him to come in.
This was it. He would be able to show Shinji how much he loves him, tonight. He
hadn’t prepared much, lack of experience a fatal flaw.
Even so, he hoped it would do. It had to, for he did not have a second chance
this time, not just yet.
Though, it was taking forever for something to happen, nothing particularly
interesting being done between them. Two awkward bodies sat scattered, Shinji’s
gaze fixated on the sunset, thoughts chucked beyond the window, beyond reach,
sea level deep as Kaworu grew just a fraction more impatient, thoughts high
above in clouds.
He started, “Shinji-kun. This is a strange request, but can I kiss you?”
Awkwardness. A voice crack. Pausing, biting his lip, he looking away before
continuing, “Sorry, if it bothers you.”
Shinji’s face lit up. A sudden request, albeit not entirely unwanted, or
unwelcome. Considering what had happened earlier, it was only reasonable for
him to be curious or even ask, really.
So when Shinji shakily nodded after a period of time, followed by a “Fine.”
Kaworu had let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A word. An approval.
A confirmation that the affection was indeed mutual. He wouldn’t let his
feelings go to waste. Shinji had trusted him with his body, not the entirety of
his heart. But that was fine, for now.
He pulled, guiding him to his bed, and motioned him to sit on it. Once he did,
he lightly pressed Shinji’s body into the mattress, pinning him down. Lanky
limbs loomed over, casting shadows onto the boy beneath him. Shinji’s face
flushed, gradually turned red, dissolving into sunset, the entire world
outside.
The setting sun was seemingly forever, perfect, a near imperial feeling, yet
Kaworu dread the nearing dusk. Carmine eyes burnt like the sun, brazen and skin
deep.
Deep down he knew that soon, he too would fade into dusk, smothered and crushed
into unholy twilight, speckles of bone melting into LCL, a whole rest placed by
cruel fate. He stared, gaze meeting Shinji’s, and leaned down to kiss him
lightly.
He will be with him when that happens, at least.
The boy beneath him gasped, eyes shot wide open, surprised at the sudden
intimacy. Kaworu snaked a hand behind his head, tongue reaching into his mouth,
deepening the kiss too, too quickly. Saliva and mucus and sputum and love
clogged Shinji’s throat all up at once, the feeling of nauseation, the urge to
vomit everything out and get it over with. He hurriedly patted on Kaworu’s
back, signaling it was done. He was done.
“Sorry.” moving away, Kaworu said, wiping saliva from the corner of his mouth.
Shinji sat up, panting.
“It’s okay,” a weak smile, “It was just...a bit too much for me.” averting his
gaze, he continued, voice barely audible. Kaworu placed his hand on Shinji’s
cheeks, forcing gazes to reconnect, and leaned in to kiss chapped lips.
Going just a little slower this time, they kissed again. Kaworu slid a hand up
to unbutton their shirts, exposing skin under pale light. His hands reached
towards Shinji’s nipples, pinching, tweaking them a little. Shinji shivered,
but did not protest. Slim fingers ran long strokes across skin like he was
playing a piano, handling a delicate instrument, carefully and softly yet with
endless, burning passion.
He dragged his teeth along Shinji’s neck and shoulder blades, hot breath
surrounding his ear, whispering impossible words of affection, in return
gaining his moans, arousal audible in between heavy panting. Noticing Shinji’s
growing erection, Kaworu had decided against mentioning it, mouth focusing on
sucking his collarbone, leaving behind sloppy bite marks. Shinji tugged at him,
urging him to continue.
But instead, he reached behind him, towards the utility knife.
Kaworu leaned in and kissed Shinji deeply. Taking the opportunity, he stabbed
and scored his abdomen, hard.
It wasn’t enough. Harder, deeper, just a little bit more...running the utility
knife repeatedly over Shinji’s skin, a prayer, a routine, a broken cassette
tape stuck on repeat, the red line grew deeper, oozing crimson. Blood started
spilling, splitting like river streams, running down bright yellow fields,
spreading across well-marbled red and white, dripping on his sheets. It was
like hell broke loose, a volcano exploding, in return creating a new world,
disastrous beauty.
Kaworu leaned in to kiss Shinji again, but Shinji was screaming. A mix of
emotions flooded his chest, yet he remembered that Kaworu loves him before
anything else. Kaworu loves him. Disgust took over and he bit down the inside
of his cheek, a poor attempt made in hopes of hiding discomfort, tears flowing.
He was supposed to be afraid, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t like anything mattered.
Kaworu is the only person who cares about him. Kaworu was all he needed, in
this mess of a world with angels and evangelions. He could do anything for
Kaworu, he would die for him. Living didn’t matter to him anymore, so why would
dying? Right now, as long as he’s there, it’s fine. Everything is fine.
Kaworu groaned. Utility knives weren’t the best choice, its blades too thin and
vulnerable to cut through inches of skin, but he had nothing else. He resorted
to hacking his abdomen open, snapping every dull blade apart every few minutes.
The crisp sound of blades being snapped apart twinkled like the light of a
single star in the dark, vastless sky. Singular, weak, complex yet oh-so-
simple, a complete nonsense. If only he could arrange a proper song with this
disorganised array of blades for Shinji, but right now he was already bringing
love upon him. Maybe next time. He’ll show him how much he loves him, again.
Shinji weakly fingered one of the few blades scattered around the bed, silver
stained with vermillion. It shone back, greeting him with his own vague
reflection, a mesh of pale yellow and brown. Kaworu notices, and asks, almost
worriedly, if everything was fine. Shinji staggers on breath, decidedly refuses
to back out, then replies, choking out words, ”I-It’s nothing. Kaworu-kun is
doing this for me, r-right? Kaworu-kun wouldn’t harm me. It’s nothing compared
to you.” He acknowledges, decides, pretends that the pain was barely comparable
to how deep Kaworu’s feelings for him were: an abyss laced with gentle
affection, infatuation, love, down thirteen steps and more, even more. Kaworu
smiled, pale moonlight reflecting on his face.
Shinji looked ethereal. A force-injected illness, bright crimson spilt around,
red halo circling his body, the feeling of fragility familiar like home. His
hands laid folded on his chest, the slightest bits of organs poking out from
the jagged line on his abdomen, crimson dripping and escaping, utility knife
still stuck to his right. His skin a canvas, seared by a contradiction of blood
and gore. It was true art, human culture right where it should’ve belonged.
Kaworu decides it was a job well-done, enough to suffice, and pulls the blade
out, setting it back on the bedside table. Placing his hand on top of Shinji’s,
he gave him a light peck on the lips. “You’re beautiful,” Kaworu hums, “Thank
you, Shinji-kun.” Thin fingers moved to caress the wound, staining them with
gore.
“Can you feel anything?” Kaworu asked, poking the fleshy bits of his insides
that stuck out, suddenly realising the answer was painfully obvious. “No...I
don’t think so. It hurts.” Shinji replied, voice weak, a pianissimo that
could’ve been blown away just by Kaworu breathing. With a pang of guilt,
Kaworu’s hands moved down and pressed on Shinji’s bulge, making him moan.
He pulled down Shinji’s pants and boxers. Kaworu wasn’t entirely sure how
Lilins dealt with arousal. Experimentally, he poked at it, wrapping a hand
around his erection. Shinji’s breathing hitched almost instantly, pleasure
painfully slowly taking over abdominal, emotional pain. “A-ah, Kaworu-kun!”
Kaworu jerked his hand up and down repeatedly, wrapped around his erection. He
moved down, bowing his head to engulfing its tip, sucking, tongue attempting to
lick its shaft.
“Shinji-kun, how do you feel?” a question without a proper answer, the other
boy whined, fragile under waves of pleasure. While continuously pumping and
licking, he snuck a hand under, circling a finger around his anus, prodding in
with another two. Shinji’s moans grew louder in response, erection growing
harder, heat pooling in his abdomen. He moved quicker, making scissoring
motions, right hand occasionally moving down to fondle his balls, squeezing
lightly. In ecstasy, he came, his body shook, strings of cum shot on Kaworu’s
face by accident. He apologised, attempted to, too drained to properly talk.
Letting go of Shinji to wipe his face clean, Kaworu assured him it was fine and
reached his other hand up to the wound, prodding it open with two fingers,
sticking his middle finger inside. The disgusting feeling of organs meshing
together was delightful, dark carmine, bodily fluids clung to his skin. He
grasped, pulled them out, and they spilled in response, organs and fat and
bodily fluids oozing out, a slick, heavy coating glistened under faint light.
Shinji’s insides were utter warmth, radiating off what was once contained in
skin casing. He couldn’t help touching. Fresh blood surfaced, rushed, stuck to
his hands and fingers. The faint metallic smell grew impossibly heavier and
heavier as he desperately breathed in, trying to savour every single moment of
Shinji. The sight, the smell, the feeling. Face flushed, Shinji was struggling,
facial features twisting in pain. But to Kaworu, he looked very much in love.
As seeping adoration had drowned out all his other senses, Kaworu had failed to
notice that he himself was erect, until now. He was uncertain if it was the
sight of Shinji that had caused it, or the excitement of being able to be
together with him soon.
Gripping the guts that were threatening to slip through his fingers, he
carefully rubbed them against the erection in his pants, it twitched ever so
slightly. His breathing hitched. Hands shaking, Kaworu reached down to unzip
his pants, while the other hand gingerly held Shinji’s insides, bowels
threatening to slip. Crimson stained his pants like glue, bright and warm and
sticky but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is Shinji.
Freeing his erection, Kaworu carefully took a length of intestines and rubbed
them on it. The sickening warmth, red stains, metallic smell, it all screamed
Lilin. There was nothing more Lilin than the compounds of a Lilin body. These
were the insides of Shinji Ikari, and they felt incredibly Lilin, incredibly
real. Dizziness rushed up to his head, Kaworu felt unbalanced. He craved more,
primal instinct taking over rationality. Surely, Shinji would understand that
he was doing this out of love, not lust.
Kaworu reached for the utility knife, snapping another piece of the blade off
before proceeding, tugging at inches of intestines. He moved the blade to saw
the bowels open, one end held tight with his left hand, another pressed down by
his knee. It kept moving around, struggling. A prey pinned by a hunter, shotgun
at hand. It was hard, tough love, even. But it made everything worth it. It had
to be worth it. Oh, Shinji-kun, can’t you see how much I love you? Shinji
struggled, screamed, voice echoing in the room, knee-deep in despair but Kaworu
couldn’t hear a single thing, arousal clouding sunset eyes.
The inside of Shinji’s intestines were dull pink. Translucent liquid secreted
from the opening, dripping out, metal mixing in with sultry air. Kaworu felt
his head lighten, his stomach do a somersault. The sight was too pleasant for
him to properly handle, appreciate. Stopping now would be impossible.
He mentally apologised, too late to beg for forgiveness. Excess words jumbled,
tripped on the tip of his tongue, a half spat-out apology. But even so, all of
this was done for you! Surely, you’d be able to understand, this time.
Shoving the utility knife towards the bedside table, he held the severed
intestine and slid his erection inside, tip engulfed by raw flesh. The warm,
tickling sensation of the plicae was incredibly welcoming. Right hand gripping
on the organ, he moved down, overwhelming pleasure stimulating his erection,
his senses to no end. It was unimaginable that the inside of an organ, let
alone sexual intercourse could feel so good. Perhaps this was the sole
advantage a Lilin body had over others, or because he was with the boy he
adored, the one he craved so obsessively.
Pumping the cut organ and his erection harder, repetitively, he thought he
could hear Shinji talk, but he couldn’t, couldn’t properly comprehend heard
speech. He was crying. It had to be out of love. Perhaps he finally understood
all of his feelings, his reasoning, the purpose of all this. Dazed, Kaworu
ejaculates, streams of cum filling up severed guts, lining the mucous membrane
with semen, part of Shinji’s stomach cavity painted white, mixing in with gore.
Pure ecstasy, love, nothing less.
Leaving no time to waste, he started cutting, hacking through his abdomen, loud
panting resonating with Shinji’s cries. Pieces of blades marred the living
corpse as maggots did, cutting apart tendons and tubes, the sounds of bodily
fluids and entrails squishing, splattering, moulding together like putty as a
sickly yellow seeped through the sheets.
Organs were being harvested, counted and numbered, arranged into pretty
patterns, putting together puzzle pieces: pancreas, bowels, kidneys, liver,
gallbladder, stomach, taken out of a Lilin, rearranged into another.
He smiled, expression tainted heavily with affection. Fragments of entrails
laid around, misplaced train tracks, lacking a shed. Bodily fluids and yellow,
chunks and chunks of it soaked the sheets with a putrid smell, yet they were
everything, the entire meaning of his existence to Kaworu.
He picked up the piece of intestine he had fucked and observed it. The inner
walls were coated with a mixture of blood, semen and intestinal fluid, slightly
tinted pink.
He shoved it into his mouth.
Kaworu wasn’t sure what he expected Lilin to taste like, but it tasted...ideal.
The metallic taste of raw flesh and blood. The salty, bitter tinge of semen,
intestinal fluid dripped down his chin, drops splattering on sheets. Yes, it
was ideal. Addicting, even. Chewing was hard but he had managed, putting force
into his jaw, teeth determined to rip through, to taste, to eat. He craved
more, more of Shinji. Picking up scattered entrails, he ingested them one by
one, greedily shoveling into his mouth.
The more organs torn open, off with a broken blade, the more bits of Shinji
scattered, the more Kaworu ate.
He leeched on Shinji, sucking on rotting wounds, lapping up liquids, taking
bites of organs: his liver, stomach, gallbladder, the sour taste of bile,
digestion acids, muddy greenish-yellow spilling inside the cavity, mixing in
with red and white and bright, bright yellow, layer and layers of filth coated
the sheets, scattered scarlet shone like sea, the smell of bitter love
punctured the air.
Though Shinji was still sobbing, weak sniffles barely audible. Kaworu found it
odd, something quite like disappointment, not nearly angriness surfacing. All
of this was done to show how much I love you, do you not understand? He
attempted to savage skin with what was barely left of the utility knife,
picking up tiny pieces of dull blades, weak singular stars stabbing
constellations on lymph nodes, stretching across the map of musculoskeletal
systems. Dirtied hands had moved up, pressing indents on his clean neck,
fingerprints smearing fluids over bite marks, actions done out of spite.
But by doing so, he found that he looked even more ethereal, perfect, the
prettiest of all starry skies scattered on human anatomy, and at the very top
of it bore an imperfect ring of splotches, splatters of red and purple around
his neck, an imprinted necklace formed by his fingerprints, by Him.
So, he let go. Unpleasant emotions had gone away somewhere, replaced by
affection, adoration, love.
Truly, he loved Shinji Ikari.
He hummed, toying around with Shinji’s rib cage, lightly tapping on skeletal
structures. Filth-caked fingers danced in the cavity, dipping into the stew of
bodily fluids, gentle strokes of comfort given in pity.
It was a shame that he wasn’t able to consume Shinji completely, as Lilin
bodies were not built for consuming bones, but this is enough, this is fine, he
thought. Carmine eyes stared, gaze incomprehensible.
Shinji’s heartbeat was more audible, more visible than ever, anything below his
collarbones barely looked human, tattered frameworks keeping a shell in check.
The lack of inner organs brought him closer to him, his heart, the lifesource
of a Lilin. He laid his head close to his chest, what was left of it, savouring
the steady beating.
Now, Shinji had given him both his entire body and heart. Truly, cannibalism is
the purest form of love.
End Notes
     And in pity angels beheld him
     (but is it really cannibalism if it’s Kaworu? lol)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!