[It laughs, high and echoing and shrill, when Mizael tries to spit out the liquid flowing into his mouth. Then it leans forward, presses its forehead against his as it pinches his nose shut. It's swallow or drown, then.]

Don't fight like that, little bird...you might hurt yourself~!

[It's gloating already, slotting its relaxed, dripping body against Mizael's struggling, tense form and feeling the erratic rhythms of his body as he tries to free himself, rubbing into him and crooning, because the way he fights is so delicious.]

Drink up, now...