❥ He never takes responsibility for anything; he is never at fault, even if the murder weapon is still warm in his hands. An extension of this is that he finds it very hard to apologise genuinely, because he almost always never sees reason to.
❥ He does know how to deal with affection, but only from those he's lied to - those that do not know that ( Read more... )

So of course, here's Jack, meandering down the corridors with a bowl of sweet candies in arm; every now and then he'd reach in blindly for one and eat it.

"Mister Ja~ack," he sings, apparently looking for that one Contractor counterpart of his - but he's just passing the music rooms here and then, perhaps looking to catch a certain someone.

[for casse_sablier ( Read more... )

His sword meets resistance; Jack knows it's two of Glen's ribs, so he drives the blade harder, twisting it deeper. There is cold steel cutting through his side, but it's okay ( Read more... )

I found a fountain pen while getting some tea. The sugar cubes are back, which is a small mercy - who cares if my teeth rot early, anyway ( Read more... )

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you ( Read more... )

I want to go home ( Read more... )

( cut )

( Read more... )

I love you.

I can't write very well; my fingers are still raw, and part of a nail fell off earlier, but I have to remember this. Quickly. Before I fall apart. Because I know I will. Ha! I never thought that

I love you, all right? I always, always

I really wish I could dieEverybody lies, Glen. Lied. Looking Glass said he'd protect me. Mister ( Read more... )

Eleven hours after Glen had strangled him to unconsciousness, Jack wakes up, eight feet under soil. At first, he is disoriented; the total darkness, the lack of air, and the crushing weight confuse him - but then something slimy wriggles past his hand, and he instinctively gasps ( Read more... )