yandere diluc is pathetic as hell omg😭😭 imagine his darling goes on hunger strike and he force feeds her and he’s just like “i knowwwww☹️☹️☹️just one more bite pls😔😔” whole time she’s screaming and crying
Y'all wanna hunger strike Diluc so fucking bad 😭 😭 this is my third ask about this same thing?? I'mma do it cause you whores are desperate though.
The sight of a full plate was one Diluc has grown scarily accustomed to in the passing weeks. Maybe a bite or two of food taken, just to sate him, and you'd sit in silence for the rest of the meal. The already quiet hour was even more deafeningly silent when it lacked the clatter of your cutlery, the sounds of your chewing. It was so quiet that even across the long, mahogany table, Diluc could hear the way the liquid slid down your throat with each big sip of the wine you took.
With your glass empty, you'd wipe your upper lip with a napkin, then remain stationary for the rest of the meal.
You, who seldom even spoke to the man, already made him walk in eggshells around you. Your temper was like a furnace, crackling and fuming, just waiting for the chance to burn him. So like a lot of flames, he kept his distance, and didn't speak when he noticed this new and terrifying habit blossoming.
Maybe you didn't like the food? He'd question himself. His muse, his desire, his flame, you were, you filled his thoughts even out of his line of sight. That fiery gaze of yours is why he loved you so damn much, the hatred in your eyes fueling a masochistic part of his brain. So that's why he was thinking of you now. Even though work was supposed to be the only thing keeping his attention, you still found a way to cloud his mind. The food wasn't up to your standards. That's why you weren't eating it. That had to be.
The next meal you were served was your favorite. Diluc watched with desperate eyes as yours stayed on your plate. He himself didn't even touch his own food, waiting for you to take the first bite. And you did. A sense of triumph and relief washed over him, he felt his shoulders finally relax as a weight lifted off of them, and even though you cared so little for his emotions, he felt a smile growing on his face.
But, soon enough your little mouse-like bites stopped. Your fork is placed back onto the table. You sipped down the wine in your glass until it ran empty. Your plate is still full.
From the looks of it, you'd only picked and eaten your favorite parts. A good start, but not nearly enough for you. Not nearly enough nourishment. Were you torturing him? You had to be. You didn't look smug at his sorrow, not happy, you didn't even look like you noticed his presence.
“Please…eat some more,” he hummed with a weak, pleading smile forcing its way onto his face. This was the first time he'd heard his voice bellowing through the dining room in…well, he couldn't remember.
It was clear that the unfamiliar sound startled you too. You met his gaze, something you hadn't truly done in months, and he felt his cheeks flush hot, like a schoolboy in front of his first crush. Just the sight of you was enough to make him almost forget what he's ordered you to do, until you spoke with that sweet, but venomous voice.
“I'm not hungry,”
Three words sending a stab of pain through his chest. Diluc felt his lips quiver at your statement. A lie if he'd ever heard one. You had to have been aware that Diluc constantly kept track of your meals. Even the ones you didn't share with him. How much you are, what you had for a snack, the amount of water you consumed. Diluc knew it all. As your husband, it was his job to know it all, and he knew that you should be starving.
“Just a few more bites,” he hummed, “It was made special for you,”
A shake of your head had him reeling, but he held his composure, though he could feel the metal fork squeezed tight in his fist growing noticeably warmer, almost burning hot.
“It's been days, you must be starving,” he sighed, exasperated.
“I'm not,”
Diluc loves you. He truly does. His heart, his soul, his eternal flame. And he knows that his love is there to keep you completely safe. You, how naive you are, to think that Diluc would ever let any harm come to you, even at the hands of yourself. His most precious person. The one he loves more than anything riches, more than himself.
It shouldn't be a surprise when he stands from the table and walks to your side. You know better than to run away, instead you sit stiffly in your chair, suddenly aware of how firm the wood of it is, like your mind is trying to focus on anything except the way you can feel his body heat as he kneels next to you. The way he smells like burnt cinnamon and you can hear his breathing, slightly heavier than normal.
When you finally do meet his gaze again, you watch his cheeks flush that red color once more, an affect you have on him that even you aren't aware of. Instead you notice the how his eyes are glossed over, like one blink will bring tears, and how his hand is gripping a fork ever so tightly. If you weren't acutely aware of how demented his obsession was with you, you'd think that he was planning to impale that fork right into your chest.
Diluc's shaking had used his utensils to pick up a scoop of your dinner, then holds it up to your lips. You can smell the savory scent hitting your nostrils, instinctively making your stomach rumble ferociously, practically proving his point, but you keep your lips sealed tight.
Diluc knows what's best for you, even if you yourself don't. He knows that he has to protect you, even if that means hurting you himself. The pain he brings you, is also to keep you safe. That's what he tells himself as he reaches upwards and squeezed your cheeks, his large hand nearly engulfing your face and still noticeably hot from the recent usage of his vision.
Your words are a muffled mess as you try to pull away and resist his touch, but you're nothing compared to his enormous strength. To the way the fingers sinking into the plump fat of your cheeks being pressed together so firmly forces your lips open despite your protest. He does his best to force the food past the entrance of your lips.
You want to spit, but it seems Diluc has already accounted for such actions. That same hand is now pressed over your mouth, sealing your lips shut…and the other closes your nose. Your eyes widen as you realize that you're unable to breath, thrashing in his hold that seems unwavering. You expect to see malice in his eyes, sadistic excitement watching you struggle and thrash. But all you see are tears. Cascading down his cheeks like a waterfall, salty wet tears drip down onto you. You'd be angry at the pitiful sight, if not for the lack of oxygen.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he whines over and over like a mantra. His meek apologies are a foil to the aggressive nature of his hands that you're clawing at with all your waning strength.
So you do as he wants. You chew. Then swallow. Noisily, so he can hear. Then he releases you, pulling his hands back like you're the one who's burned him. Sputtering and coughing, you glare at him, still apologizing to the point where the expression has lost its meaning. Not that you ever took what he said seriously.
“Please, just finish your food,” he mutters. Using the back of his hand to wipe away a stray tear. But there's a look in his eyes, regret of course, but also the determination that shows that if you don't do as he says, he'll repeat the same actions again.
