SOME OF US MANAGE TO BE STUPIDLY GOOD-LOOKING ON OUR OWN !
✧・゚:* HAPPY BIRTHDAY , @ryves !!! 💋
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
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@redesigned-blog
SOME OF US MANAGE TO BE STUPIDLY GOOD-LOOKING ON OUR OWN !
✧・゚:* HAPPY BIRTHDAY , @ryves !!! 💋

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i’ll end up putting this on my blog at some point, but my main account is @ryves!
poe is a creation of the show writers and that gives me no reason to read the books unless lizzie is in them
MUSE LIST [UPDATED]
xerxei ström [oc] spencer reid [criminal minds] jace herondale [tmi / book based] will herondale [tid] poe [altered carbon / show based] *
MUSES REMOVED
stiles stilinski [teen wolf] / returned to own blog(s) greyfiel ross [oc] / returned to own blog simon lewis [tmi] / deleted alec lightwood [tmi] / deleted
i

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grey has been moved to @greyfiel because my son deserves better than me forgetting i have a multimuse smh
sorry to be nsfw
but I really want a boy to run his hands through my hair and smooch my forehead and just hold me rn
He was suppose to be dead. That much Derek knew. The extent of the attack this time was too much. He wasn’t suppose to survive this, but he did. Why? All because of Stiles doing something he would never agree to. No. The other didn’t remember this now, but Derek would have never allowed him to give up everything to save his life. That’s the last thing he would have wanted. Not just because of their connection, either. Derek was the only person who knew how hard Stiles had worked to build this life for himself. It was the only one he had liked. The only one he had fought for, for so many years. The wolf would even go as far to say that Stiles was actually happy in this life. Now that was all gone, and it was all Derek’s fault. He hated this. He hated the guilt he felt. The Stiles he knew was gone now, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He couldn’t. Stiles might not remember anything, but Derek did. He remembered it all.
There was no telling where he was now. After everything had happened, Derek wasn’t around when Stiles had left. He wouldn’t of stopped him anyways, but on some level he was grateful not to witness the event. This entire situation hurt enough as it was. He didn’t know if he could have handled watching Stiles walk away. The look in his eyes where he didn’t know who Derek was. Didn’t know how much Derek actually meant to him, but some time had passed now and Derek was ready to see him. Needed to see him. He just had to find him first. Which was harder than he thought at first. When Stiles left, there was no traces of him left over. However, Derek eventually got a small lead that he took. It was a small town that the demon had started over, and Derek wasn’t really surprised. He would want the privacy of that, he assumed. But when Derek arrived, he really had no idea where to start looking. Just knew that Stiles might be here. There was a small coffee shop on the corner, that the wolf had stopped in to try and figure out a game plan in his head. He was standing in line, when he saw him. Even after not seeing him for so long, the man still took his breath away. It took every ounce of control that Derek had to not embrace him right then and there. He didn’t even know if he remembered him from the little he saw before he left now, or if anyone had told him anything since then. All he really knew was that Stiles was standing a few feet away from him, and Derek was internally grateful to just be looking at him again.
@redesigned && barely plotted but hi
HE’D DONE WHAT HE’D HAD TO. no matter how mad at him the werewolf might become later, he knew he would have done the same if their places were switched —— and there hadn’t been any time for discussion. the demon had searched for a reason not to do it, knowing he might as well give derek the satisfaction of knowing he’d looked at other options, but time had been running out and he couldn’t think of a single thing besides SAVE HIM. SAVE HIM. SAVE HIM. and so he’d gone through with it.
it had been no easy feat, tearing out a piece of himself as he had. if he’d been human, he might have called it half his soul —— but that wasn’t who he was, and it never had been. he was a demon, through and through, so he’d carved away a good part of his essence and used that instead. being what he was, he wasn’t meant to heal; destruction was in his nature. he had to destroy more of himself than he was fixing for derek for the balance to be right. it was a fair trade, he’d thought. all his own memories, everything that made him the person he’d become, for derek’s life. even if he hadn’t seen it as fair, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
by the time their location had been discovered by someone who could help, stiles had left —— but at least derek had lived.
he’d spent his last remaining moments as himself to start walking, heading towards what he’d thought might be a town in the distance, but it took him days to find any sign of life. by then all parts of him that made him stiles were gone, along with all his belongings due to a rather nasty fall. he’d gotten taken to the nearest hospital, but once he had been treated there, he’d been set loose into the neighbouring town.
living life as a john doe has been strange, but he’s managed. he works in the bakery down the street, lives out of an assisted living home, and is— well, normal. or as normal as he could ever hope to be. part of normalcy means getting coffee in the morning before he goes to work, and so he stands in the line for fifteen minutes. when he finally gets his latte, he has a nagging feeling of being watched, but manages to ignore it until he turns and spots an intense stare out of the corner of his eye. for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, he takes the opportunity to pretend as though he doesn’t see the man ( eyebrows, he dubs him ) at all, instead walking with an acute sense of distraction until he quite literally runs into him. coffee spills down the stranger(?)’s shirt, not hot enough to burn but still enough to be uncomfortable.
“ shit, fuck— i’m so sorry. fuck. ” he plays the part of the klutz well, clueless to the idea that his heartbeat might be giving him away. “ you okay? let me get you some napkins— ” the teenager turns to the counter, setting down his cup and grabbing a handful of napkins before facing the man again and starting to wipe at the coffee on his shirt. a-fucking-plus.
[Smooth Criminal plays in the background]
#my baby

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omamoribane:
@redesigned.
He’s not ASLEEP, but Magnus is certainly getting there, even with the added distraction of the Gehennic text in his hands. He’s been reading the same sentence for what feels like hours when soft footsteps sound from the living room & alert the warlock to another presence in his apartment, and his lips are quick to quirk upwards into an unabashed smile at the noise. After moving to deposit the book onto his bedside table, he shifts into a reclined position and extinguishes the light in his room with a SNAP, knowing that Alec will be able to find his way to the bed all the same.
He’s quick to sink into the sheets and relax as he waits, but a golden eye snaps open as the mattress dips beside him & a pair of devastatingly COLD hands snake their way around his waist. ❝ Oh, darling, you’re FREEZING, ❞ he whispers, blue sparks emanating from his palms as he shifts in the Shadowhunter’s embrace and runs his artificially warmed hands over Alec’s skin, carefully. ❝ What did you do—- go for a swim in the HUDSON river ? ❞
WHEN THERE ARE DEMONS ON THE STREETS, there’s not much in the way of time to check the weather. though the air had been brisk when he’d let the institute, it had dipped well below freezing while he was out. there was nothing he could do but ignore it at the time, but now that he’s nearly at magnus’ loft, he can feel the breeze slowly chilling him, the cold settling into his bones.
when he reaches the warlock’s floor and enters the loft, he barely stops to remove his shoes, practically making a beeline for their bed and settling into it. the shadowhunter manages a small laugh at the other’s words, though, grateful for the warmth he’s being given. “ not tonight, but maybe the next time a teuthida demon shows up, ” alec replies. they haven’t seen one of those in a while, which probably means they’re well overdue for one to appear. he’s not looking forward to it.
omamoribane:
Forever is a long time, to a warlock. Eventually, time had started to slow in a way that Magnus thinks mortals wouldn’t ever quite believe. Days began to feel like weeks, months turned into years, and while the world around him continues to be ever - changing, he’s—- stuck. Magnus Bane is devastatingly permanent, in a world full of transience. He’s had almost 400 years to accept immortality, to accept his curse, but…. well, everything had changed once Alexander Lightwood had come along, once he had rather unwittingly woke something up inside of Magnus, and now—- time has never passed so quickly. Seasons change in the blink of an eye, and suddenly all the time in the world still isn’t enough. He had eventually come to realise that ETERNITY wouldn’t be enough time, even if he spent it all with Alec—- but time SLOWS, so much so that he vaguely begins to wonder if he may have succumbed to the beginnings of calcification once more, when Jace carries Alexander into his home.
Hasty demands & unanswered questions are thrown at the blonde as Alec is lowered onto his couch, and Magnus is quick in his movements to kneel at his lover’s side and cast a surveying hand over the Shadowhunter’s body, but … ❝ He’s not breathing. ❞ It breaks him to say it, sends his breath hitching and his heart ACHING as agony establishes a vice - like grip around the organ. It’s also something that Jace CLEARLY knows already, and Magnus wants to ARGUE, wants to demand to know why the Shadowhunter had brought Alec here when he’s WELL AWARE of the fact that there is nothing that the warlock can do, but one look at the other tells him that Jace is feeling just as LOST as he is.
He could cry, could express the anguish caused by the HOLE that’s been torn through his heart by tearing down each wall of his loft with a mere flick of his wrist. Instead, he pushes away the pounding DEVASTATION in his heart, his gut, his lungs. Smooths a gentle hand over Alec’s hair. Sends Jace from the room—- quietly, but firmly. There’s a spell; one that has only ever been circulated in RUMOURS, even among the warlock community, and while something in his head is quick to tell him that the mere knowledge of the incantation’s language—- Cthonian, and full of phrases that even HE cannot quite decipher—- should be enough to deter him, his heart offers up the argument which ultimately wins out ( his heart often wins, when the matter concerns Alec Lightwood ).
He knows the spell by heart, has heard retellings enough times, which is what makes it clear that his hesitance stems solely from deliberation. It will bring him back, in theory, but there’s no telling what kind of consequences that the Shadowhunter’s resurrection will entail. Ultimately, he isn’t sure whether it’s love or selfishness that drives him to go through with it, anyway. There’s no FLOURISH, no snap of his fingers as he prepares himself for this particular spell—- instead, a hand is merely placed over Alec’s heart as he takes a deep, resolute breath. ❝ Eleka nahmen nahmen … ❞ he feels the incantation working away at his lover from the moment the first word tumbles from his lips. A PULSE of energy ripples through his hands and jerks Alexander’s chest as if he’s being resuscitated, but the movement does not deter Magnus from his actions.
He’s halfway through when the Shadowhunter begins to SCREAM. Magnus’ gut wrenches in response, but he cannot do anything but carry on, cannot simply leave the other in this terrible LIMBO. His usual wisps of blue are slowly darkening into BLACK as his magic spills across Alec’s frame, but he continues, stubbornly. By the time he’s uttering the last line, his magic has all but run out, and he only just stops himself from FALLING onto Alec as the ebony cloud dissipates, one hand steadying himself atop the couch beside his head while the other ghosts over his jaw, his shoulder, his heart. ❝ —-Alexander ? ❞ His voice is low, ROUGH, as if he’s been speaking non - stop for days. ❝ Darling, you’re alright. You’re safe. You’re … ❞ he doesn’t know how to continue, not when he isn’t sure what’s happening, but the faint ringing of his apartment’s sensors tells Magnus that something is not right.
THE FIRST THING HE FEELS AMIDST THE PAIN is a loss he can barely put into words. he’s always been able to feel jace’s presence no matter the distance between them, no matter how faint it might be, and the connection is simply--- gone, snapped in two like a rubber band stretched too thin. he needs to find him. ( as much as magnus matters to him, his parabatai holds the other half of his soul. ) there’s a momentary struggle to sit up that is only evident in the straining of his muscles, but it soon yields as fruitless as when he was on the battlefield. death still weighs heavy on his body, even if it’s released its grip on his mind ------ though not on his soul.
“ magnus... ”
the warlock’s name emerges cracked and weak, twisted by some unrecognisable sound from beyond this realm. the closest equivalent to it would be the scream of pain he gave moments before, but returned like an echo, the last sound of his humanity forever carved into his words. when he finally opens his eyes, blue is stained by black, an inkiness swirling in previously clear irises. magnus promises he’s safe, but he doesn’t feel safe.
it takes him a moment to realise he isn’t breathing.
another before he notices he can’t feel his own heartbeat.
he finally manages to move then, a hand reaching for the other’s and fingers closing around it once it’s found. only then does he see that his runes are running like wet ink, dripping down the surface of his skin against all logic and gravity. it’s only moments longer before they vanish entirely, and he feels his cold heart clench in a way he didn’t know it could. those runes were a part of him, weren’t they? he could have sworn they were. even the permanent ones are gone, and without them, he can practically feel his sense of self slipping.
“ you called me--- alexander. that’s me, isn’t it?
is that me? ”
gv. hellfire kingdom - *VERSE TAG
When Sebastian Morgenstern was stabbed with Heosphoros, Clary was so sure that her plan would work. That the heavenly fire would finally stop the nightmare for them all. Yet, Sebastian had seen the plan coming, and when it came down to deliver the final blow, something happened. The weapon changed, what was once heavenly fire, burned hellish now. Heavenly turned to hellfire. No one knows how Sebastian did it, or how he could have foreseen the plan but with that one fell swoop, the war was over. Sebastian Morgenstern was the victor. His Endarkened army stormed Alicante and destroyed most of its inhabitants. While Edom had been Sebastian’s original plan, he decided he wanted to resurface, now with the rage of the hellfire in his veins, no one could stop him from taking over anything he wanted. So, with his Endarkened army still at his feet, Sebastian began to collect Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike. With The Clave slaughtered and no one else to protect the Shadow World from Sebastian’s reign, him and his Queen began to hollow out every last remaining Institute and they were given a choice, fight for him on his every beck and call…or become a part of the Endarkened, and live with no other choice.
IMPORTANT PLOT POINTS
Sebastian is still considered the King of Edom though he was able to get them all out of the hell realm. He still has access to it and it is still considered his.
The Clave, Conclave, and The Council no longer exists. Alicante is home to Sebastian and Clary and Idris has been turned over completely to Sebastian Morgenstern.
Shadowhunters that remain a part of Sebastian’s army follow Sebastian’s rules, sometimes hunting down and killing fellow shadowhunters as well as downworlders who refuse to obey Sebastian.
There will be a small uprising among the Shadowhunters, ones wanting to find out where the fabled sword of Heosphoros ended up and how they can retrieve it.
Sebastian had all of The Iron Sisters slaughtered as well, meaning that no more heavenly weapons have been forged since the loss of the war. He did his best to destroy all of The Silent Brothers as well, though some, unknowingly to Sebastian, wound up hidden and underground.
Both The Seelies and The Unseelies happily side with Sebastian and he has both armies at his disposal if need be.
Warlocks, Werewolves, and Vampires tend to keep to themselves though they are all technically at the mercy of Sebastian’s Shadowhunter and Endarkened armies, and many are slaughtered for little or no reason at all.
Steles are no longer allowed without the supervision of Sebastian. That being said, more and more Shadowhunters are dying in random demon battles just because they didn’t have a stele on hand and therefore couldn’t heal themselves.
The underground revolution of Shadowhunters is small and consists of mostly Shadowhunters at the moment, though there have been whispers of more and more Downworlders wanting to join the cause.
Keep reading
* iii. someone wanted a starter | @ammorsos
THEY DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, but he keeps drinking anyway. it’s gotten to be the way he copes with the trauma, the only way he can manage it on his own. ( he’s not alone, but he doesn’t want to bother erica with his problems. she has enough of her own. ) stiles fumbles with his key, scratching the metal around the lock several times before finally getting it in and unlocking the door. he stumbles into their apartment, catching himself against the wall as he loses his footing.
“ ericuh? ” he calls, her name slurred. “ yah home? ”
* viii. very ouch | @omamoribane
HE’S NOT SURE WHEN IT HAPPENS. one moment he’s standing between his parabatai and his sister, the three of them fighting off demons; the next he’s on the ground, something hot lancing through his side. he recognises the feeling as being the same as when he was injured by abbadon. how long ago was it? his mind fumbles to try and find a number, but his memories cloud as a chill begins to settle into his bones. the demons are dead, he’s sure, because he’s positive izzy wouldn’t stop to look if they were still in danger.
he can see something dark staining his parabatai’s fingers as he moves his hand to his shirt, and alec struggles to right himself to get a better look, but his body doesn’t respond as it should. it takes far longer than it should to process, but he sees jace pull the collar of his shirt down and reveal that his parabatai rune is bleeding. the rune should only bleed if one of them is dying, shouldn’t it? he’s not dying; he can’t die. there’s still too much left to do.
the shadowhunter is vaguely aware of being lifted off the ground, and his head lolls to the side just enough that his forehead is pressed against the leather of jace’s jacket. he could have sworn it was barely past noon a moment ago, but darkness is quickly encroaching upon his vision, and he has no choice but to succumb to it.
when he wakes again, he’s screaming. it burns like his blood’s become fire.

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The first round of YA Sisterhood’s 2nd annual YA Crush Tourney continues today (Monday, July 16) with our Alec Lightwood, the No. 15 seed, going up against No. 18 seed Noah from the Mara Dyer series.
Time for Shadowhunters, Downworlders and Mundanes to unite and get Alec into the Superior…
Aw! Alec is up for the YA Crush Tourney. It would be nice to see a gay character advance into the later rounds!
So, as always, vote for Alec if you’re feelin’ it. You can vote here.
Either way, in honor of his candidacy, I’m posting the scene from the original draft of City of Glass in which Jace kisses Alec to get him to come to his senses about Magnus. It wound up being rewritten as it was kind of silly, but I do enjoy Jace’s relentless practicality about everything and as always, Alec and Jace’s friendship.
“Drop it, Jace,” Alec said in a warning tone.
Jace was having none of being warned. “Magnus says it’s because you’re hung up on me. Is that true?”
There was a moment of utter silence. Then Alec gave a despairing howl of horror and put his hands up to cover his face. “I am going to kill Magnus. Kill him dead.”
“Don’t. He cares about you. He really does. I believe that,” Jace said, managing to sound only a little bit awkward. “Look. I don’t want to push you into anything, but do you maybe want to —”
“Call Magnus? Look, that’s a dead end, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but —”
“—kiss me?” Jace finished.
Alec looked as if he were about to fall off his chair. “WHAT? What? What?”
“One what would do.” Jace did his best to look as if this were the sort of suggestion one made all the time. “I think it might help.”
Alec looked at him with something like horror. “You don’t mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I mean it?”
“Because you’re the straightest person I know. Possibly the straightest person in the world.”
“Exactly,” Jace said, and leaned forward, and kissed Alec on the mouth.
The kiss lasted approximately four seconds before Alec pulled forcefully away, throwing his hands up as if to ward Jace off from coming at him again. He looked as if he were about to throw up. “By the Angel,” he said. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“Oh yeah?” Jace grinned, and almost meant it. “That bad?”
“Like kissing my brother,” said Alec, with a look of horror in his eyes.
“I thought you might feel that way.” Jace crossed his arms over his chest. “Also, I’m hoping we can just gloss over all the irony here in what you just said.”
“We can gloss over whatever you want to,” Alec said fervently. “Just don’t kiss me again.“
time to blacklist jalec