Mikoto could take a lot of punishment, harsh hands, hard surfaces under his body as Munakata slammed him into wall, street, even ground if he could manage it. Pain and the promise of it, rough and the bite of bright aura that wasn’t Mikoto’s.
He laughed, eyes alight with power and pleasure.
Munakata’s smug face was just right as he wrought actual pain and bruises on a nearly untouchable king. It didn’t feel like the rush of power or the nightmares and regrets that plagued him. It felt like something he didn’t have to think or worry about. Something real.