[Then, he leaps with abandon – leaps, as if caught and thrown by the heat and force of an explosion –, gracefully fanned wings eclipsing the sun for a brief moment before he drops, every muscle and sinew suffused with a sense of purpose and primed for this very moment. He all but slams bodily into Jack, leading arm-first and viciously thrusting his palm into his chest to pin him down, softening his own landing with a cushion of shadow only to spare himself injury to his knees before swiftly straddling him.
He has always favoured a more intimate death, hungry for the defiance in a man’s flaring nostrils and the stern line of his jaw, for the thinly veiled, abject terror. An unhinged laugh bubbles up from his throat, cock twitching at the thought – and a slight curling of his upper lip is all the warning he inadvertently gives before metal flashes from his boot and he draws back his arm sharply, driving it down. But the dagger judders to a halt mid-swing, the point wavering.
The skin around Isaac’s fierce, narrowed eyes twitches, his breath coming hard and fast through clenched teeth shining with spit. And for an eternity, he struggles desperately against himself, his gloved hand creaking tighter around the hilt while his glare bores into the eyes of the man he feels he has every reason to hate and with every fibre of his being.
They all laugh at you Isaac no one will ever respect you
(shut up)
kill him before he kills you
Thoughts race wildly, his pulse racing faster, and he forces himself to blink. Staring back with the blank-faced intensity of a child told his life as he knew it was a lie. His eyes widen slightly, some genuine emotion deeper than rage clouding them as he desperately searches Jack's face for some truth he doesn't want to recognize. Then the dagger arcs low, promptly forced into his own leg.
Snarling, Isaac pushes himself away, the raw jolt of pain monopolizing his attention. Giving him something to cling onto, to focus on.
all that you touch you ruin]
Get out!! [He roars between ragged, panting breaths as much to Twila as to Jack, and for an instant his trembling wings flash a deep red.]
no subject
He has always favoured a more intimate death, hungry for the defiance in a man’s flaring nostrils and the stern line of his jaw, for the thinly veiled, abject terror. An unhinged laugh bubbles up from his throat, cock twitching at the thought – and a slight curling of his upper lip is all the warning he inadvertently gives before metal flashes from his boot and he draws back his arm sharply, driving it down. But the dagger judders to a halt mid-swing, the point wavering.
The skin around Isaac’s fierce, narrowed eyes twitches, his breath coming hard and fast through clenched teeth shining with spit. And for an eternity, he struggles desperately against himself, his gloved hand creaking tighter around the hilt while his glare bores into the eyes of the man he feels he has every reason to hate and with every fibre of his being.
They all laugh at you Isaac no one will ever respect you
(shut up)
kill him before he kills you
Thoughts race wildly, his pulse racing faster, and he forces himself to blink. Staring back with the blank-faced intensity of a child told his life as he knew it was a lie. His eyes widen slightly, some genuine emotion deeper than rage clouding them as he desperately searches Jack's face for some truth he doesn't want to recognize. Then the dagger arcs low, promptly forced into his own leg.
Snarling, Isaac pushes himself away, the raw jolt of pain monopolizing his attention. Giving him something to cling onto, to focus on.
all that you touch you ruin]
Get out!! [He roars between ragged, panting breaths as much to Twila as to Jack, and for an instant his trembling wings flash a deep red.]