Diluc Ragnvindr is knelt pathetically by the chair.
This is the worst he's been humiliated, he thinks, the coldness of the marble floor not once making him flinch. He's already frozen to the touch, no longer fazed by the temperature his mansion drops to on a daily basis, but you are warm, a living, real creature, who unlike him, needs no blood to live.
In contrast, he cannot live without it.
It is humiliating to know that he cannot survive a day without blood. Not— not without yours, not without anyone's, not without anything.
"Tell me once, and I will stop," his own voice quivers in the confines of his throat. Your hand on his cheek, pulse so close to his fangs, feels so pleasant on his chilled skin he's certain it makes him look foolish in the way he holds it so closely to his face. "I am giving you the chance to t-think twice. Please, my love, I..."
Your adoring gaze fills him with so much loathing he shuts his eyes to it.
The gentle circles you're caressing onto his cheek causes his body to shake. Gods, you are so soft with him. "Diluc," you start, sighing his name out, "Since when have I needed to think twice when it came to you?"
When he opens his eyes, the image of you in front of him begins to blur. "This folly will be remembered longer than you will."
"I know," you say with a smile, a strange liquid making a line on your hand. Diluc startles, moving, realizing that strange liquid is a tear, and that it comes from him.
He is beyond pathetic. Disgusting, really, to be kneeling in front of a human so reverently, when he will be desecrating someone like you.
When you've noticed he's yet to sink his fangs into you, you encourage him. Gods, you encourage him, by saying, "Diluc, I'll be safe. It's you."
And so he sobs, teeth breaking skin, blood filling his mouth. It tastes sweet. He's a monster to want more.
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I have real bad impulse control and a cutely designed ask blog that desperately needed a new pfp, iykyk
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only one piece of artwork remains hanging in my room… i can’t take him down until we sign the new lease…
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you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised
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when it rains norwegian wood 2008
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