[ Somehow, this isn't as satisfying as he thought it'd be.
It does fill him with a certain sense of vindication to see Hiyori pale and shaking, yes. It does sate a part of him that had always felt resentful towards the other, hating that ever-sunny facade, hated the sense that Hiyori always looked down on him. And yes, it does feel satisfying to look at the stupid expression that Hiyori's wearing right now, that "pretty" look he's always oh-so-confident about crumbling into wide eyes and a scrunched brow and lips flapping in a panicked ramble. But still ... somehow, this whole deal just isn't as satiating as he'd thought it would be. It just isn't fun seeing someone genuinely terrified for their wellbeing.
Fuuta had simply been staring down at Hiyori for a moment, silent save the faint crackle of embers still burning away in his throat, and it's only the abrupt flapping of wings and the rake of tiny talons over his temple that have him recoiling. An animalistic hiss escapes him as Fuuta whips around to glare at the magpie, sharp teeth bared in a snarl as flames build in the back of his throat; he doesn't particularly plan on killing the bird, but he sure won't hesitate to scare it off with a burst of flames.
It's only Hiyori's timely intervention that stops him, and Fuuta instead settles for fixing a sideways glare on Hiyori throughout that pathetic ramble. The pent-up flames continue to crackle away in his chest, built up so hot that their glow permeates through the skin of his throat, the inside of his mouth lit up with an eerie glow when he snaps back at Hiyori, ]
As if I'd believe any of the shit you're saying. [ The heat of his body's only intensified, and when he exhales, it's like someone's fanned a bonfire in Hiyori's direction. It smells of smoke, tastes like heat. ] I saw how easily you lied to those guests when you were pretending to punish me. You're just saying whatever you think's gonna save you. You 'admire' me? As if I'd believe that.
[ He leans in closer as he scoffs, the jagged tip of his tail pushing a little more firmly into Hiyori's stomach. The spikes lining that reptilian tail aren't sharp enough to cut through fabric or skin, not without significant speed, but the weight and pressure alone are probably starting to feel a little painful. They might leave bruises in their wake, if left like this for much longer. ]
You don't treat people you 'admire' like how you've been treating me. I don't think you admire anyone or anything. You're so up your own ass that all you care about is how great you think you are.
[ Maybe Hiyori can find some small solace in the fact that Fuuta is so focused on him, that bright eye fixed on him with unwavering concentration, that he's not sparing a single thought towards the magpie any more ... or to the sound of other wings flapping. ]
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It does fill him with a certain sense of vindication to see Hiyori pale and shaking, yes. It does sate a part of him that had always felt resentful towards the other, hating that ever-sunny facade, hated the sense that Hiyori always looked down on him. And yes, it does feel satisfying to look at the stupid expression that Hiyori's wearing right now, that "pretty" look he's always oh-so-confident about crumbling into wide eyes and a scrunched brow and lips flapping in a panicked ramble. But still ... somehow, this whole deal just isn't as satiating as he'd thought it would be. It just isn't fun seeing someone genuinely terrified for their wellbeing.
Fuuta had simply been staring down at Hiyori for a moment, silent save the faint crackle of embers still burning away in his throat, and it's only the abrupt flapping of wings and the rake of tiny talons over his temple that have him recoiling. An animalistic hiss escapes him as Fuuta whips around to glare at the magpie, sharp teeth bared in a snarl as flames build in the back of his throat; he doesn't particularly plan on killing the bird, but he sure won't hesitate to scare it off with a burst of flames.
It's only Hiyori's timely intervention that stops him, and Fuuta instead settles for fixing a sideways glare on Hiyori throughout that pathetic ramble. The pent-up flames continue to crackle away in his chest, built up so hot that their glow permeates through the skin of his throat, the inside of his mouth lit up with an eerie glow when he snaps back at Hiyori, ]
As if I'd believe any of the shit you're saying. [ The heat of his body's only intensified, and when he exhales, it's like someone's fanned a bonfire in Hiyori's direction. It smells of smoke, tastes like heat. ] I saw how easily you lied to those guests when you were pretending to punish me. You're just saying whatever you think's gonna save you. You 'admire' me? As if I'd believe that.
[ He leans in closer as he scoffs, the jagged tip of his tail pushing a little more firmly into Hiyori's stomach. The spikes lining that reptilian tail aren't sharp enough to cut through fabric or skin, not without significant speed, but the weight and pressure alone are probably starting to feel a little painful. They might leave bruises in their wake, if left like this for much longer. ]
You don't treat people you 'admire' like how you've been treating me. I don't think you admire anyone or anything. You're so up your own ass that all you care about is how great you think you are.
[ Maybe Hiyori can find some small solace in the fact that Fuuta is so focused on him, that bright eye fixed on him with unwavering concentration, that he's not sparing a single thought towards the magpie any more ... or to the sound of other wings flapping. ]