#precipiteux

[facelessblackrabbit-blog]

pocketwatchrabbit, sugary-inkblots, executionbyscissors,

precipiteux, his-absolute, decapitating--failure, unrelentingduty kadorin-aum, akuroiusagi, i-shall-fall, i-reject-you, vermilion-vampire-hime, giftigeseele

♦||  After a quite exhaustive afternoon Oz finally had some time to rest. He watched the sunset from the window. Looking close, there was someone coming from the gardens. Could this person be looking for him? Hm. Not so usual but a possibility.

[ducismerulae]

✿~ [ psst hiya friendo ]

send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number

1: aggressive kiss

Oswald isn't quite sure what set him off. There was something about that man that just got to him. Jack Vessalius. A flighty creature all done up in golden and emerald hues. The raven couldn't take it anymore. He spun around quickly in the dimly light hallway, the blonde too lost in his own ramblings to notice. He pressed his lips firmly against the other's effectively silencing whatever he had been speaking about (Oswald in all honesty had stopped paying attention to his words and switched his focus to his lips long earlier.) A hand of his snaked around the man's neck and long, slender fingers slipped into the base of his long plait. How nice it felt to be so wrapped up in the sunshine that was the youngest Vessalius boy. How right it felt to keep him pinned against the wall in the otherwise abandoned hallway. And how much Oswald wished he could keep him like this forever.   

[infractus-viscera]

precipiteux replied to your post:precipiteux replied to...

[ i’d love t’do this tbh :) ]

O-Okay!  I'll make sure to bother you more often!  Hehehe...!

[infractus-viscera]

precipiteux replied to your post:ladyblackrabbit replied to your post: ;people...

[ psst i can’t do mutual alyss x jack but if y’wanted a flirty manipulative jack who uses her feelin’s like in the canon, i’m yer girl whispers ]

T-That's mostly what I expect out of it!  Even if it were to be mutual, the most it would be is him using her as a replacement for Lacie (something that she will never be good enough to fully do so he'd probably just get frustrated).  W-We could do that though!  I'd be happy with it!

[egoistischs-blog]

If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then what can be said of their hearts after all this time?

Absence implies presence palpable enough to miss. Wherein words are weightless air so easily drowned out by the slightest sound, he has almost quite forgotten. A reminder, Glen decides, would be welcome now. 

He’s put in mind of some ridiculous sugar-spun house. The kind that gives him headaches but he can’t quite share because the meaning of its existence seems to be finding some excuse to crumble. Is he going mad? 

Predictably, he tells himself wryly, as the stone walls answer with silence. 

If it must be so, he stands a better chance of understanding Jack Vessalius than he’s ever done. Because Jack is good at this, at making every gesture an ornate snare: here is a brand of madness which may be mine, now accept it. It is this thought that eventually locks all its like. Perhaps all the proof he needs is in front of him; Jack can lie this well. Therefore it must be for a good reason that treacherous voice whispers at him surely, someday, a life for a life. 

Glen pinches the wicks of the candles by the windowsill and draws the curtains. He stands in the dark, eyes closed.

[egoistischs-blog]

He may be under the impression that staring at Jack until his scrutiny is discovered is an acceptable way of getting Jack's attention. 

[egoistischs-blog]

There's the sound of rustling just beyond the bushes beneath the window to Oswald's office. (And who else, in all the world, would be there in the dead of winter peering in? None but Jack, and all because he vowed to Lacie that he would...)

The duke-to-be is currently indisposed. A fist is pressed against his forehead in the pose of someone deep in concentration, but the way his other arm drapes over the armrest suggests he is half awake at best. 

Surely he isn’t in the habit of leaving trails of nonsensical words over the desk. 

[egoistischs-blog]

He could understand a creak or two--it's the dead of winter and the windows have yet to be oiled. But certainly a pronounced crash is pushing it. It leads him to conclude this mustn't be anyone intelligent. 

Oswald sighs and walks towards the nearest window that is not being pummeled. Upon opening it, he sticks his arm out and grabs the intruder by his golden braid and pulls. 

(He really should have known.)

"What are you doing here?"