[Patiently, D waits for Eustace to walk toward him; he's not worried at all about escape.
With how D continues to act like his taciturn self, it's clear this aura is a sort of instinctual overlay which D cannot completely control. He supposes he has his father to thank for that.
He slips his fingers around one of Eustace's wrists when the man is in reach, drawing the arm behind himself so Eustace is pulled closer.]
I will.
[Before Dokja comes to hopefully eviscerate him.
The fingers of his other hand pass through the hair at the base of Eustace's neck, skin surprisingly warm for a man so pale. The punctures are sure going to be a thing Eustace carries back to normalcy, and maybe Dokja would have been better off walking in here and seeing them like this from the start.
The only thing he can do is to bite lower than the pulsing section of Eustace's neck. The craving suddenly comes on a little stronger than he thought it would, and D feels baser for it. He's become a lesser version of his former self.
The fingers swing down beneath Eustace's collar to pull the clothing out of the way, and he drops his lips onto the slope where the neck meets the shoulder. He bites with no preamble, with two long canine which hadn't been there when Eustace found him. The blood swelling into his mouth is ambrosia to his senses, and he has to double down on his focus.
On the other hand, Eustace feels nothing. Whatever pinch had been expected doesn't come. An overwhelming surge of arousal arrives instead, pouring from the top of Eustace's head down between the knees. It's the euphoric haze earned after wonderful sex, leaving Eustace in a brief daze.
A terrible, dark power sweeps into Eustace's mind, trying to overpower it, but it isn't quite able to force itself in the nooks. The image of a tall, imposing, and beautiful man who resembles D flashes in Eustace's mind. The man's eyes burn perpetually as red as D's had, but his presence is weighted with an age unfathomable. As old as a planet, as old as time.
His rich, deep voice says, "Cut them apart."
Then the man is gone, and Eustace is instead restrained in a thick chair welded into the floor of a wide and industrial room. Monitors beep and buzz, and pads have been stuck to his pale, nude form. Across from him, he sees D, shorn haired, who looks not much older than ten. D is similarly restrained in an indentical chair, the legs, the arms, the chest, the head. Putrid colored liquid slowly begins to descend the IV into D's arm, and Eustace realizes at an icy sting, the same is happening to him.
Almost immediately, he can feel the fiery burn of hell split his veins. A thousand ants crawling beneath his skin, the sun is inside of him. He thrashes against the binds convulsively, but laughter comes out of his mouth instead of the scream he expects. Just laughter. Wild, unhinged laughter.
But then Eustace understands it isn't him laughing, but D across from him. Through thr similar shaking and twisting, clawing, D is laughing maniacally, and Eustace has one thought, he does not want to be like his brother.
When Eustace opens his eyes, D is holding him upright in the stable. The inner rim of D's lips are red, but there is no other sign he's had a taste of Eustace's blood. He's watching Eustace's face, eyes dimmer and ringed by the embers of the bright red from before. Eustace can feel the strange hum of life force from D, as if they are intertwined and synchronized. He knows where D exists and can feel D know him as well.]
no subject
With how D continues to act like his taciturn self, it's clear this aura is a sort of instinctual overlay which D cannot completely control. He supposes he has his father to thank for that.
He slips his fingers around one of Eustace's wrists when the man is in reach, drawing the arm behind himself so Eustace is pulled closer.]
I will.
[Before Dokja comes to hopefully eviscerate him.
The fingers of his other hand pass through the hair at the base of Eustace's neck, skin surprisingly warm for a man so pale. The punctures are sure going to be a thing Eustace carries back to normalcy, and maybe Dokja would have been better off walking in here and seeing them like this from the start.
The only thing he can do is to bite lower than the pulsing section of Eustace's neck. The craving suddenly comes on a little stronger than he thought it would, and D feels baser for it. He's become a lesser version of his former self.
The fingers swing down beneath Eustace's collar to pull the clothing out of the way, and he drops his lips onto the slope where the neck meets the shoulder. He bites with no preamble, with two long canine which hadn't been there when Eustace found him. The blood swelling into his mouth is ambrosia to his senses, and he has to double down on his focus.
On the other hand, Eustace feels nothing. Whatever pinch had been expected doesn't come. An overwhelming surge of arousal arrives instead, pouring from the top of Eustace's head down between the knees. It's the euphoric haze earned after wonderful sex, leaving Eustace in a brief daze.
A terrible, dark power sweeps into Eustace's mind, trying to overpower it, but it isn't quite able to force itself in the nooks. The image of a tall, imposing, and beautiful man who resembles D flashes in Eustace's mind. The man's eyes burn perpetually as red as D's had, but his presence is weighted with an age unfathomable. As old as a planet, as old as time.
His rich, deep voice says, "Cut them apart."
Then the man is gone, and Eustace is instead restrained in a thick chair welded into the floor of a wide and industrial room. Monitors beep and buzz, and pads have been stuck to his pale, nude form. Across from him, he sees D, shorn haired, who looks not much older than ten. D is similarly restrained in an indentical chair, the legs, the arms, the chest, the head. Putrid colored liquid slowly begins to descend the IV into D's arm, and Eustace realizes at an icy sting, the same is happening to him.
Almost immediately, he can feel the fiery burn of hell split his veins. A thousand ants crawling beneath his skin, the sun is inside of him. He thrashes against the binds convulsively, but laughter comes out of his mouth instead of the scream he expects. Just laughter. Wild, unhinged laughter.
But then Eustace understands it isn't him laughing, but D across from him. Through thr similar shaking and twisting, clawing, D is laughing maniacally, and Eustace has one thought, he does not want to be like his brother.
When Eustace opens his eyes, D is holding him upright in the stable. The inner rim of D's lips are red, but there is no other sign he's had a taste of Eustace's blood. He's watching Eustace's face, eyes dimmer and ringed by the embers of the bright red from before. Eustace can feel the strange hum of life force from D, as if they are intertwined and synchronized. He knows where D exists and can feel D know him as well.]
Do you remember your name?