I won't, I won't— [no matter how desperately he wants to, he swears it; to soren in an unintelligible murmur, to himself in his thoughts, to anyone who can hear a silent promise. his head tips backward following the aggressiveness, he lets his mouth pop open in a breathless sound, his eyes roll, and yet he somehow just manages maintaining some semblance of rhythm to his movements. they're no less frenzied, though, and sizhui's patience is waning with every passing minute.
he's blessedly granted a bit of a reprieve when soren stops moving and lets him take over, an offering he seizes without hesitation once he's certain the dragon is rested comfortably against his chest. a quick shift of one leg, followed closely by another with the opposite limb, both his hands skim down soren's waist to his hips then his thighs, where he curls his fingers underneath, braces his elbows just right and lifts soren's lower-half. it only takes a couple seconds, even if it feels like forever, but given this chance at a better angle, he takes it, rolling his hips up in brisk, fluid motions so he can fuck into his partner again. there's something akin to a growl rumbling in his chest and as he leans as close to soren as possible, his voice is low, clipped, and almost guttural-sounding,] Not until you say so...
Oh, [he gasps at the change of control and depth, which sizhui commands more of by handling him this way, rocking his head back and forth against him and squeezing his shoulders, tail wagging sinuously behind and above him as he's pleasured.] That's it...! Don't stop, Sizhui...
[he's at least relaxed enough in the other monster's company to be less guarded about slipping into such a state that he stops caring about how desperate he might sound, how his cold and unaffected outer shell is cracking, how there's a beg behind every demand, his breaths hitch and his vocal cords drag and pop with moans both strangled and exuberant. while he loathes the thought of having sizhui lose it before he's ready to let it go, he has faith that he'll be capable of lasting longer than most. he's edged him enough times to have tested this, and they're putting his endurance to the rigorous test right in this moment, as if he'd been training for it from the very start of their sexual encounters. soren is quite convinced that there's no better-feeling cock than one that has been teased and made to wait, swollen and throbbing and weeping with need to release.]
Let's see you... keep your word... I know you can.
[stopping is the last thing on his mind, so soren telling him that is sort of redundant, but the plea hits him just right and he can't help thrusting harder, spurred on by wanting to bring soren to climax even faster. if sizhui wasn't intent on holding the dragon this way, he would've reached for that tail again, teased it mercilessly with the hope it'd add more stimulation and have soren unraveling further.
it's only fair, of course, because sizhui's going to be a weeping, overstimulated mess after all is said and done; the least he can do is pull every single possible reaction out of soren while it's still an option. he's listening the entire time, fingers gripping tighter and tighter, the strength sure to leave behind bruises at the least and crescent-shaped marks from his nails at the highest point. his own voice has faltered now, breath rough and heaving, but he doesn't stop, regardless of the burning, building pressure from trying his damnedest to hold out for soren. and although coherent words may have abandoned him at the moment, it doesn't mean he can't respond by vigorously nodding, focusing half-lidded eyes solely on soren and increasing his pace, panting heavily into his hair.]
S-Soren...! [is what he does ultimately manage, and against his better judgment – or so he thinks – he yanks soren down against himself, pins him in place, adjusts his legs a second time then uses what momentum he gains to attempt flipping them over into a whole different position.]
[the sudden grapple and roll not only electrifies him, but flips a switch in soren's dragon brain— his mate is trying to overpower him, and he can't just let a mere púca have his way with him on his back like that without a fight for it. his wings flare out and beat as if he's been brought tumbling midair, each membranous limb trying to resist along with his arms now encased within sizhui's, pushing back at his shoulders with even crueler claws poised and sinking like honed daggers as his muscles flex. despite his size, soren is unbelievably powerful, and their tussle slows into a trembling push-pull equilibrium on their sides as the dragon snarls and tries to reclaim his seat atop him. even his cock moves into the action, charging over sizhui's while he locks his prize in a tighter squeeze. the wing closest to the mattress presses against it and supports him in this tenuous stalemate.]
[while he hadn't expected soren to roll easily, he didn't quite anticipate him stopping them on their sides either, his wings stretched out and those sharp claws digging even deeper into his shoulders. he hisses at the stinging pain, purses his lips, inhales sharply through his nose and huffs a sigh at the sensation of blood trailing down his arms in rivulets. it breaks something in sizhui, something that makes him react far out of the norm when compared to his usual sexual encounters.
initially, he lets them rest on their sides, bucking his hips as best as he can manage, his eyes open wider, boring deep into soren's, unblinking. it's probably a little unnerving, to be honest, but after a few seconds, he lowers his hand to the thigh he's not pinning with his side, grips hard, forcing it flush against his waist, his movements halting altogether.]Soren, [he speaks with emphasis to showcase his seriousness, not a single waver in his voice this time.] Let me fuck you— [he's done so well with holding out, what's the harm in letting him do it, as a treat?]
[soren grits his teeth, vocal cords grinding at an inhuman frequency while his eyes glower in a harsh lambent red halo around his swollen pupils like embers stoked, unnerving in their own right and assuredly undeterred by the ferocity of the other monster's gaze. he's so wound up by carnal greed and adrenaline that his vision pulses as though intoxicated. a lash of stubbornness turns him away from the idea of submitting, which burns him down to the pit of his loins with desire at the prospect despite it. worsening that ache is the sudden stillness presented to him down there, prompting him to fuck his cock with his own while he redoubles his strength, engaging all six limbs into another wheeling attempt at flipping him back over.]
If you want it, you must take it.
[he knows he's got not just his own surprising strength on his side, but abilities up his sleeves he can call upon if he truly wanted to force him down and accept getting railed. the possibilities inflame him with more arousal, and he plunges his teeth into his neck as an outlet for his bubbling sexual energy.]
[how stubborn, sizhui thinks, trying to focus both on the way soren looks at him and what he can do to possibly get the dragon to submit. ordinarily, it'd be the other way around, and sizhui's such a good boy, he hardly ever brats out unless he's feeling it, but this is different. part of him is glad soren did, that way he's able to showcase the strength he possesses in return, whereas the other half, the less animalistic side wonders: if he puts his ability to use, will it be too much? will he injure one of them or will everything turn out fine? for whatever reason, he doesn't think much on it, and half of that is because of how soren's cock moves along his, wringing a high-pitched noise out of him before it can be stopped.
take it, huh? oh, he can do that, especially with the way soren's sinking his teeth into him, drawing another, lower sound from deep within his throat.
both of his hands move, grasping onto soren's wrists and, regardless of how much it could hurt, he yanks those claws free from his shoulders, uses what little leverage he can maintain to keep them held, then he twists, pins their hands behind soren's back and lets a thick flowery vine snake around the dragon's arms.] That's exactly what I'm going to do, then.
[there they are, the products of his gembond creeping along his arms and ensnaring them, the fins along his arms pressed tightly and his shoulders popped back. a chilly thrill courses down his spine and through his fingertips. he tries to fight them, but there's no hope for him when he's contained by both the plant and sizhui's grip, and the sudden vulnerability leaves him equal parts panicked, aroused, and frustrated. yet he refuses to give up in the face of what could be his imminent capture and submission. he whines out a little groan and struggles, butting and pressing his horned head against the cultivator's forehead and trying to dig his raised knee into him in a desperate bid to topple him over, higher wing flapping for want of purchase on anything to grip and help hoist him. he gets nothing. all he has left are the opposite wing and his tail helping to push him in the direction he wants.
if truly pressed, he could blast him right in the face with his blue flames. but this is not life or death, and soren's reason and desire to preserve sizhui have not left him.]
[it's one, two, three whole wrappings of slender vines before sizhui even considers withdrawing his hands. when he does, he lets his fingertips drift up soren's arms, all the way up to his shoulders, back across his nape and then down between the shoulderblades. this is what soren had asked for, so sizhui's going to give it to him, in whatever ways necessary to both his partner and for himself to get the dragon to submit. the head-butting is unexpected, truthfully, and he can't help snickering softly at that and the pitiful attempt at putting a knee, well, wherever soren's trying to get it? either way, it won't get far, given he's pressing his forehead back in kind while smoothing a hand downward again, pushing it over soren's ass, calling upon another vine to curve around the length of his leg and over his tail, pinning the struggling limbs together in a better form of control.
he's still motionless, too. letting soren squirm and writhe and groan as he tries freeing himself, though to no avail. after soren's stopped fighting, he will try rolling him over again then he'll get into fucking him senseless.]
[a full-body shiver surges through him as sizhui's touch glides over his form while he's helpless to stop it. his tail lashes upon sensing the binds try to weave it against his leg, but it only amounts to whipping leaves and petals up into the air and over them and the bedspread. the vines are too tough and flexible to snap this way, and even when he tries to lift it high and out of the way, the tendrils hug it to his limb, reducing its range of motion severely and neutering its power even to deflower. despite this, soren still wriggles in his hold, eyes creasing with the increased but vain effort, and something of a muted whimper slips through the groaning. the thing is, he can't resist.
[the incessant struggling never ceases to amaze him; soren still having fight in him is a turn-on, one sizhui wouldn't have thought about much before, but with his vines pinning the dragon in place, it's a whole other story. while he isn't often in this position, it makes sense why people like to be, to watch their partner fight with everything they have, and still be unable to resist. being fair here, watching foliage come loose and twist up into the air around them is an amusing sight in and of itself, which is initially why sizhui smirks, but it's the lesser squirming, the whimper, the fact soren knows he can't get free that really delights the púca.
oh, the irony there is so, so sweet.
sizhui finally takes advantage, moving both hands to soren's knees, gripping underneath them and rolling the rest of the way over, effectively pinning soren on his back. he props their foreheads together, still grinning like an absolute shit, his hips drawing back then thrusting forward none-too-gently. once, twice, and a third time, slowly but surely picking up speed the more he goes.]
[each drive unravels him toward the end of his rope. each drive received in excruciating, explosive detail, each delivering him from the numbness he knows he will plunge back into once he's finished him up, each crash of his hips upon his serving strangling pleasure, burning and coalescing into flames too brilliant not to blind the both of them before completely devouring them. the dragon howls, his free limbs no longer instruments of escape but bindings that fix his powerful lover to himself, wings and legs and strung tail alike, squeezing with the strength of a combatant but ultimately an ally in their tussle, encouraging him to work toward the culmination of what they both want in this frantic moment spent between them.
this isn't like yakumo at all. well, there's the emptiness that threatens to enfold him once they're over, but this is sizhui. a year and more of this man, their limbs arranged in myriad ways to ends just like this one, the distinction of being before ike's reappearance, and now finally after. someone he's grown used to, the scent and the taste and the feel of him never causing harm but bringing him solace and relief, things he didn't know he wanted to cling to so badly. the force is a farce at the heart of it: he's letting him in, and oh, it feels like he's soaring beyond places his body can reach. his claws dig into his flesh and his limbs possess the rabbit monster as if he's the last scrap of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world that spins him around and spits him out at will.]
[he's never felt a sensation like this, a slow, ever-building pressure in a completely different way as he consistently rolls his hips back and forward, his breath coming heavier and heavier with each motion. his own pleasure is great, especially the way he's able to grip soren's thighs so meanly, keeping his legs held aloft and mostly spread apart, his half-lidded gaze watching, enraptured. and when soren cries out, he momentarily stops, plants his feet to brace himself on his toes, keeping his hips completely flush against soren, letting him feel the entirety of his length before he withdraws again and continues what he'd been doing, movements slightly quicker.
it feels like this is what's helping soren the most, taking him to a height he's either not known and one he hasn't experienced many times before; soren has been vocal during their couplings, but he's never been so loud and forthright. sizhui wants to keep going, regardless of the burn of claws cutting him open and the scrape of limbs, he's pouring all his dedication into making certain soren comes first now. his own pleasure can wait, watching the dragon's face contort, his chest rise and fall, the way he squirms— he totally has his priorities in order here.]
[coherency tossed and turned and tumbling away, soren can only burble a pathetic moan in reply at first as the pleasure sizhui pumps into him crescendos after the full and weighty pause that precedes more, more. on some level, he recognizes what a mess he must look and sound like, driven mad by the motions that hit him deep where he aches and the helplessness he feels with every futile jerk of his arms pulled behind himself, and it burns in his cheeks and trembles in his thighs. his eyes flutter open to see sizhui framed by the dark curtain of hair that tickles his cheek, face drawn in rapture with every ounce of his focus pinned on him as he brings him closer to release frightfully fast whether he likes or not, no moderation accessible. his insides do a little flip. tears bead at the corners of his eyes.]
You're m-making me... oh! Feel too good not to...!
[this is punctuated by a heavy contraction and slickness that pools flush against the instrument of his impending demise.]
[while that isn't the noise that initially does him in, it is a response that urges sizhui to keep going, his upper-half lurching forward somewhat, just enough so he can press their foreheads together. he's openly panting, puffing across soren's mouth, those long black rabbit ears flattened against his head with the effort he's putting into pretty much fucking soren into the mattress. it feels good, it feels so good, it's nearly impossible for him to have already held out for as long as he has, and yet sizhui's still going, waiting for the exact moment where he'll know: he's finally going to get what he's been working so hard for.
and it's so worth it in the end.
the sudden gush of fluid, that tightening around his cock, there's no mistaking it at that point, and a pleased little smirk lifts sizhui's lips at the edges. he hums with approval, shifts his hands to soren's thighs, grips with all his might then pumps into him a few more times, staccato and unsteady as he comes with a low, guttural-sounding grunt shortly thereafter.]
[it's seismic, how he quakes against the brunt of his own release and his partner's drilling into him, unable to channel any excess energy out by moving his limbs. he wails, powerless to stop this full-body takeover. even after he'd ceased orgasm, he throbs with the aftershock of it, and with what's left of his victorious puca's still sloppily pumping into him it feels like he'd never stopped at all.
worst of all, he's crying. the tears won't stop spilling and his throat won't untighten. his face feels hot and he can't even try to hide it from sizhui, so he shuts his eyes so he doesn't have to see him looking at him.]
[his nails clench so hard into soren's thighs, it's a wonder that he has enough brain power to not ferociously tear into his skin. there will surely be marks, there's no way there won't be, but the little pinpricks are nothing in comparison. even after he's come, sizhui doesn't immediately stop, he keeps thrusting into the tight, wet heat, the sound percussive and loud and lewd— but once the haze clears from his vision, he does finally still the wild motions, his breath heaving.
blinking through the remaining spots, sizhui casts a downward glance to soren, his eyebrows knitted, both hands releasing his legs so he can lift one and gently rest it against the dragon's face, the pad of his thumb swiping through the tear streaks.] Soren... hey, are you okay? [was it too much? had he hurt him? he's never seen him cry like that before, so it's a bit worrisome.]
[deep down, soren knows the correct answer to that question. instead, he gives him a lie.]
I'm fine...
[there is some truth embedded in the lie. realizing with deep shame the various conclusions that could be drawn of his unexpected reaction, sizhui must be fraught about being responsible for the outpour. he swallows thickly, maintaining the screen of his eyelids over his vision.]
It's just... a s-stupid... [he draws a shuddering breath as quietly as he can possibly make it.] It wasn't you. I'm not hurt. Leave me be...
[which sizhui knows is at least partially a lie because soren wouldn't cry if he was fine like he's saying.
is this sub drop? he's heard of it before and he's experienced it once or twice himself, but he never knew what it was called until recently. his lips press together, his brow knits and he oh-so-slowly begins pulling back, reluctantly withdrawing from the sweet heat, although he doesn't pull away entirely. he keeps wiping away the tears, watching closely, trying to decide what he should do in this situation, even if he already knows what he should do.
mostly, he just wants soren to admit that he's not okay, which he nearly does, but not without a little bit of that usual soren attitude.] Soren... it's okay, you can tell me. [sizhui's other arm moves and encircles the smaller male's waist, holding him tight, his fingers gently moving down his cheek to his neck in a soft, soothing motion.]
[soren is starting to feel cornered. his soppy feelings are all on display, and he can't do anything to retreat. frustration pricks at him, unraveling what little composure he even has left. he works harder at the tangle of vines.]
Why do you need to know? I already told you, you have nothing to do with this!
[those vines don't loosen nor do they tighten; they stay just as they are, securely holding soren's arms despite his struggling, and sizhui raises his other hand to take hold of soren's chin, forcing the other male to hold eye-contact.]
If something is bothering you, I want to know. Whatever it is, it's made you cry, which is not something I'm used to seeing from you.
[how is he supposed to articulate something he's scarcely able to apprehend himself? this mess of emotions that sprung out to consume him after falling from the heights of uncontrollable pleasure? this incapacity wedges yet more frustration into him, and he growls like an unreasonable animal, his pupils constricting, his head twisting away but getting nowhere.]
I hate everything. [he smolders with sobby vehemence.] Amani. My powerlessness, my losses. What Aefenglom has done to me...
[the growl catches him off-guard enough, he withdraws his hand from soren's face and plants it beside his head instead, his brow furrowed with confusion. oh... never in his life would he have imagined that it was something like that and yet there it is anyway. he wrinkles his nose, reaches with the opposite hand and pushes some hair away from his face, trying to understand what exactly he's being told.]
...I'm sorry. [because what else does he say?] Although I don't understand why you think you're powerless. [sure, they can't control when they leave these worlds, but that would make everything too easy, of course.]
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he's blessedly granted a bit of a reprieve when soren stops moving and lets him take over, an offering he seizes without hesitation once he's certain the dragon is rested comfortably against his chest. a quick shift of one leg, followed closely by another with the opposite limb, both his hands skim down soren's waist to his hips then his thighs, where he curls his fingers underneath, braces his elbows just right and lifts soren's lower-half. it only takes a couple seconds, even if it feels like forever, but given this chance at a better angle, he takes it, rolling his hips up in brisk, fluid motions so he can fuck into his partner again. there's something akin to a growl rumbling in his chest and as he leans as close to soren as possible, his voice is low, clipped, and almost guttural-sounding,] Not until you say so...
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[he's at least relaxed enough in the other monster's company to be less guarded about slipping into such a state that he stops caring about how desperate he might sound, how his cold and unaffected outer shell is cracking, how there's a beg behind every demand, his breaths hitch and his vocal cords drag and pop with moans both strangled and exuberant. while he loathes the thought of having sizhui lose it before he's ready to let it go, he has faith that he'll be capable of lasting longer than most. he's edged him enough times to have tested this, and they're putting his endurance to the rigorous test right in this moment, as if he'd been training for it from the very start of their sexual encounters. soren is quite convinced that there's no better-feeling cock than one that has been teased and made to wait, swollen and throbbing and weeping with need to release.]
Let's see you... keep your word... I know you can.
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it's only fair, of course, because sizhui's going to be a weeping, overstimulated mess after all is said and done; the least he can do is pull every single possible reaction out of soren while it's still an option. he's listening the entire time, fingers gripping tighter and tighter, the strength sure to leave behind bruises at the least and crescent-shaped marks from his nails at the highest point. his own voice has faltered now, breath rough and heaving, but he doesn't stop, regardless of the burning, building pressure from trying his damnedest to hold out for soren. and although coherent words may have abandoned him at the moment, it doesn't mean he can't respond by vigorously nodding, focusing half-lidded eyes solely on soren and increasing his pace, panting heavily into his hair.]
S-Soren...! [is what he does ultimately manage, and against his better judgment – or so he thinks – he yanks soren down against himself, pins him in place, adjusts his legs a second time then uses what momentum he gains to attempt flipping them over into a whole different position.]
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cw: bl...ood... as always with these fools
initially, he lets them rest on their sides, bucking his hips as best as he can manage, his eyes open wider, boring deep into soren's, unblinking. it's probably a little unnerving, to be honest, but after a few seconds, he lowers his hand to the thigh he's not pinning with his side, grips hard, forcing it flush against his waist, his movements halting altogether.] Soren, [he speaks with emphasis to showcase his seriousness, not a single waver in his voice this time.] Let me fuck you— [he's done so well with holding out, what's the harm in letting him do it, as a treat?]
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If you want it, you must take it.
[he knows he's got not just his own surprising strength on his side, but abilities up his sleeves he can call upon if he truly wanted to force him down and accept getting railed. the possibilities inflame him with more arousal, and he plunges his teeth into his neck as an outlet for his bubbling sexual energy.]
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take it, huh? oh, he can do that, especially with the way soren's sinking his teeth into him, drawing another, lower sound from deep within his throat.
both of his hands move, grasping onto soren's wrists and, regardless of how much it could hurt, he yanks those claws free from his shoulders, uses what little leverage he can maintain to keep them held, then he twists, pins their hands behind soren's back and lets a thick flowery vine snake around the dragon's arms.] That's exactly what I'm going to do, then.
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if truly pressed, he could blast him right in the face with his blue flames. but this is not life or death, and soren's reason and desire to preserve sizhui have not left him.]
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he's still motionless, too. letting soren squirm and writhe and groan as he tries freeing himself, though to no avail. after soren's stopped fighting, he will try rolling him over again then he'll get into fucking him senseless.]
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he's so fucked.]
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oh, the irony there is so, so sweet.
sizhui finally takes advantage, moving both hands to soren's knees, gripping underneath them and rolling the rest of the way over, effectively pinning soren on his back. he props their foreheads together, still grinning like an absolute shit, his hips drawing back then thrusting forward none-too-gently. once, twice, and a third time, slowly but surely picking up speed the more he goes.]
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this isn't like yakumo at all. well, there's the emptiness that threatens to enfold him once they're over, but this is sizhui. a year and more of this man, their limbs arranged in myriad ways to ends just like this one, the distinction of being before ike's reappearance, and now finally after. someone he's grown used to, the scent and the taste and the feel of him never causing harm but bringing him solace and relief, things he didn't know he wanted to cling to so badly. the force is a farce at the heart of it: he's letting him in, and oh, it feels like he's soaring beyond places his body can reach. his claws dig into his flesh and his limbs possess the rabbit monster as if he's the last scrap of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world that spins him around and spits him out at will.]
Suh... Sizhui...!
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it feels like this is what's helping soren the most, taking him to a height he's either not known and one he hasn't experienced many times before; soren has been vocal during their couplings, but he's never been so loud and forthright. sizhui wants to keep going, regardless of the burn of claws cutting him open and the scrape of limbs, he's pouring all his dedication into making certain soren comes first now. his own pleasure can wait, watching the dragon's face contort, his chest rise and fall, the way he squirms— he totally has his priorities in order here.]
I-I'm not going to stop until you come, Soren.
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You're m-making me... oh! Feel too good not to...!
[this is punctuated by a heavy contraction and slickness that pools flush against the instrument of his impending demise.]
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and it's so worth it in the end.
the sudden gush of fluid, that tightening around his cock, there's no mistaking it at that point, and a pleased little smirk lifts sizhui's lips at the edges. he hums with approval, shifts his hands to soren's thighs, grips with all his might then pumps into him a few more times, staccato and unsteady as he comes with a low, guttural-sounding grunt shortly thereafter.]
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worst of all, he's crying. the tears won't stop spilling and his throat won't untighten. his face feels hot and he can't even try to hide it from sizhui, so he shuts his eyes so he doesn't have to see him looking at him.]
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blinking through the remaining spots, sizhui casts a downward glance to soren, his eyebrows knitted, both hands releasing his legs so he can lift one and gently rest it against the dragon's face, the pad of his thumb swiping through the tear streaks.] Soren... hey, are you okay? [was it too much? had he hurt him? he's never seen him cry like that before, so it's a bit worrisome.]
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I'm fine...
[there is some truth embedded in the lie. realizing with deep shame the various conclusions that could be drawn of his unexpected reaction, sizhui must be fraught about being responsible for the outpour. he swallows thickly, maintaining the screen of his eyelids over his vision.]
It's just... a s-stupid... [he draws a shuddering breath as quietly as he can possibly make it.] It wasn't you. I'm not hurt. Leave me be...
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is this sub drop? he's heard of it before and he's experienced it once or twice himself, but he never knew what it was called until recently. his lips press together, his brow knits and he oh-so-slowly begins pulling back, reluctantly withdrawing from the sweet heat, although he doesn't pull away entirely. he keeps wiping away the tears, watching closely, trying to decide what he should do in this situation, even if he already knows what he should do.
mostly, he just wants soren to admit that he's not okay, which he nearly does, but not without a little bit of that usual soren attitude.] Soren... it's okay, you can tell me. [sizhui's other arm moves and encircles the smaller male's waist, holding him tight, his fingers gently moving down his cheek to his neck in a soft, soothing motion.]
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You're horrible at following instructions...
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And you're as stubborn as ever.
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Why do you need to know? I already told you, you have nothing to do with this!
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If something is bothering you, I want to know. Whatever it is, it's made you cry, which is not something I'm used to seeing from you.
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I hate everything. [he smolders with sobby vehemence.] Amani. My powerlessness, my losses. What Aefenglom has done to me...
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...I'm sorry. [because what else does he say?] Although I don't understand why you think you're powerless. [sure, they can't control when they leave these worlds, but that would make everything too easy, of course.]
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