minute_by_minute: pb: henrik holm (dark)
Today is not a good day, which is made more difficult by the fact that the days leading up to it were magnificent, and Even should have suspected that this was coming but, still, somehow, it blindsides him. You would think, living with his head like this for nearly his whole life, he would be able to see the tell-tale signs of the crest and crash of his moods, but somehow it always blindsides him, like if he feels miraculous for long enough the inevitable just won't happen this time. Since arriving in Darrow, it's been a constant up and up and up, with so few backsliding days, and Even just wanted so badly to believe that there wouldn't be that tremendous crushing weight.

So today is not a good day. It starts with something small at first, a little hiccup in his step on his way out the door to head to the Zen Center, Isak sleeping in when Even can't, he wants to but he can't because at least one of them needs to have a job even if they get a stipend, and it breeds, quiet and bitter in his chest. He gets to the Center, and they tell him he's late, but he swears, he swears, they haven't changed his start time in two months because he asked for a regular schedule, something he can keep in mind at all times because it never changes but today, apparently, it's a different one, and when he snarls a swear under his breath, the director asks him to leave for the day instead if he can't keep a good attitude about it.

He walks. His feet carry him and everything feels a little blurry and terrible, that rapid demise into things he can't control, and the noise of English all around him hurts almost because he misses Norway so much, he misses the streets of Oslo and cheap beer and his apartment and the school and he realizes, suddenly, that he's not ready for college, he's not ready, he hasn't been ready this whole time but it's what he ought to be doing because how is he going to become a director if he doesn't go to art school? How is he going to make movies that people actually want to watch if he doesn't find some way to make himself reputable and marketable, when his day to day life is a knife edge of these sorts of fits and the eventually crushing action of his own mind make him worthless?

The park is quiet at least, quiet and still and unoccupied at whatever corner of it he finds and Even tracks down a shady spot to sit and he just--the weight of it sags him down and he covers his mouth and stares into the middle distance. His heart is hammering but he feels so sluggish, so useless, can't even move for the way that the weight bows down on his shoulders and his thighs, pinning him there to that spot and it's worse, it's so much worse than when the police picked him up in Oslo last time because at least he'd still been riding high on all the good in his life when they found him and it took him two more days to crash into this.

He hides in his hands and tries to breathe, tries to reach out to feeling human again, tries to recapture those light, soft feelings of just the night before, just the day before, just last week. They're gone, transported elsewhere, and he has no idea when or if they'll come back this time, when or if they'll start to perk up in his chest, how to breathe.


[Even's having a massive mood swing. He suffers from bipolar disorder and is unmedicated. His thoughts and reactions will be a little dark and scattered, very stream of conscious, and defeatist. It isn't the worst time to meet him, but be aware that he will be very blunt, pessimistic, and potentially angry with new people. ST/LT welcome.]

(no subject)

Jul. 26th, 2017 06:01 pm[personal profile] andhaveago posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
andhaveago: (old soul)
It's been a long, long time since Tanith had the time to just sit. Even before everything had kicked off in Roarhaven, there'd always been something to do - London was just crawling with creeps who needed to be reminded of their place in things. In Darrow, she's remembered what it feels like to be bored and, honestly, she's not sure that she loves it.

That said, it is giving her plenty of time to catch up.

Lunchtime finds her sprawled on the grass in the park, a pile of secondhand books at her elbow. She's never been a fan of unnecessary layers, but the sun here is warm enough, the humidity high enough, that it's comfortable to be stripped to a bikini top with her short shorts. Tanith would really like something or someone to fight but, at a push, she'll settle for reading and watching the world go by. Right now, it's Catcher in the Rye, her all time favourite. She remembers it new, brand new, the ink still virtually wet. She remembers being not even forty years old, just figuring out what she wanted to be in the world and then there had been this book and, briefly, it had been the only perfect thing.

"Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."

Over the years, it's something she's taken to heart. It's easier if you don't linger; it's a hard life, even if you don't weaken.

So Tanith lets herself got lost in her book and she absolutely, categorically does not think about all of the many, many never spoken of, the ones she's left behind.

ooc: Tanith is sunbathing and reading in Petros Park. ST/LT totally welcome.

(no subject)

Jul. 25th, 2017 06:58 pm[personal profile] mitsubishievo posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
mitsubishievo: PB: Diego Barrueco (Default)
14 July:
Full of ice cream, and thankfully not unpleasantly so, they returned home. Kavinsky rolled down the windows on the Mitsubishi and turned up the radio. He was in love, gloriously so, and despite his conversation with Jack earlier talking about constantly worrying, or his one with Bull talking about being the things that others defined you as, everything was focused down on the glory of that concept.
[ HERE | on going | R for adult sexual content ]

MEME: Babies

Jul. 25th, 2017 01:53 pm[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] cityarcade
citycouncil: (Default)
Because babies.
Tag into this meme with your characters, then respond to each other (or top-level again, if you prefer) listing information about the children they might have with others.

Whether they're the offspring of current pairings, past pairings, ships that will never happen in a million years, ships in the making, even ships with characters who haven't shown up and might never or where one-half of the relationship is an NPC, ships your characters have nothing to do with, anything goes.

Tell us what Darrow's next generation holds: what the kids are like, who they know, what they get up to, what they would look like. Even use one of the creepy morphing sites for a terrifying visual representation! Bonus points for telling us more about what kind of parent your pup would be.

Optional questionnaire to help get the ball rolling!

(no subject)

Jul. 25th, 2017 07:03 pm[personal profile] literaryimmortality posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
literaryimmortality: (pic#11469561)
Early June 2017:

And it's not like Darrow hasn't granted me some good. I've met incredible people. I've been given a chance to reinvent myself as a writer.

To be Aurora and not a ghost of my father.

It's not until one day I'm into my thirteenth lap of my gym's pool, writing paragraphs in my head that I'm sure to forget, that I realize how the hell I'm going to go about that.


While swimming, Aurora decides she's going to write a book. She goes to tell her closest friend.

[ HERE | complete | general ]

(no subject)

Jul. 24th, 2017 06:23 pm[personal profile] selkiesaoirse posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
selkiesaoirse: (sick and miserable)
Saoirse has never broken a bone before, but the moment she hears the snap, she knows that's what it is.

It's a silly thing, that does it. She's in the park, at footie practice with the rest of her team from school. She darts in for the ball, and her foot taps it. Just as she lifts it to step, she feels first one body, then another, strike her. She topples, and throws out her hands to catch herself.

SNAP!

She sucks in a sharp breath, and her face turns pink from the outcry that doesn't sound. She's never felt pain like this before. She curls on her side, clutches her arm to her chest, trying to hold it still. It hurts so much.

The kids playing with her crowd around when she doesn't jump back into the game. Their voices blend together until she can't tell one voice from the next. She feels overwhelmed. Tears stream down her face.

The moment an adult sees the ruckus, she's rushed to hospital. It's a flurry of people talking, and the doctor and nurses seem mad that she can't talk. But eventually, she's got a pretty pink cast around her left wrist, and she has a red juice to drink for the pain, and she's free to go home.

It's such an exciting afternoon that by the time it's over, she's ready for a nap.

[ oh no! Saoirse done gone and broke her left wrist during soccer practice. Be a spectator, the person that brings her to the hospital, or visit her at Green Gardens after she's casted up. I know she has a lot of magical friends, but I'd prefer she not get healed magically. Open until this reads otherwise, ST/LT welcome! ]

(no subject)

Jul. 24th, 2017 11:06 pm[personal profile] isolemnly_swear posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
isolemnly_swear: (close)
Early June, 2017:

He's not the kind of man who can just do nothing, but James is at a bit of a loss as to what he should do now. Sirius keeps himself busy enough, but other than Apparating into his best mate's house at inappropriate times and bugging Lily, James has nothing to pass his day. Drembleydrop had been fun because it appealed to his sense of nonsense while at the same time letting him do something sport related again, and so when James catches sight of an ad looking for someone to help coordinate sport events at a kid's summer camp, he figures why the hell not?

James gets a job at Jack's summer camp for kids.

[ HERE | ftb | pg ]

July 1, 2017:

Sirius puts the phone back down and James doesn't drop to the floor, but it does take all of his concentration and effort to keep himself standing. His hand reaches out for Sirius unconsciously, to steady himself on his friend's shoulder. He doesn't know what to do next, where he's supposed to go from here. He's checked everywhere he can possibly think of, there's nothing left but to admit that she's gone, and he can't do that. Admitting that means he's lost Harry and Lily both, and that's not an eventuality he's prepared to deal with.

James wakes up and finds Lily gone.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, sads ]
marthastewart: (hmmm?)
I should have known, when I stepped away from the computer, that something was up: a few people that shouldn't have meeting my eyes and a few people who normally would have glancing away. But to tell the truth, I have a thousand thoughts going on in my head, and I didn't stop to think about whatever strange office politics were at hand.

"Stuart," Louis says, our section editor, startling me from my thoughts; it doesn't help that he slings an arm over my shoulder like we're friends. "Do you have a moment?"

Now, lunch or not, someone just isn't too busy for the editor to pull aside, and about a hundred panicked thoughts go through my brain as I down the last of my coffee and toss the cup. "Sure, yeah."

"Look," he says when I step inside his office. "Your work's been great lately. It really has. I had my doubts when you started here, you know, you're kind of old-fashioned about some things, and you can be a real pain in the ass when you want to, but --"

"Is this a compliment or are you firing me, Louis?" I ask, frowning.

"Here's the thing," he says, putting his hands down. "Your job here depends on you writing about entertainment, not being the entertainment."

Be the entertainment. It hits me in the chest, like I'm back at school, and I don't have the faintest what he's talking about. He's still talking.

"--grown man, I don't give a fuck what you do in your free time, but we don't want to come across biased and --" Louis furrows his brow. I must look completely baffled, because he stops. "You don't get on Chirper much , do you." When I shake my head, he sighs and turns his monitor to face me.

It's the website of the Darrow Daily, another thing I don't pay attention to as much as I might. The Reporter? Yeah. Any number of other more independent rags and websites? Sure. But the Daily's one of those newspapers that's basically a tabloid, the kind that publishes headlines like BATSHIT CRAZY: Giant bats back? right next to political updates. I like to assume no one reads it, but that's a fantasy.

Now one of the subheaders on the front page is 'Wild' Musician Tamed By Journalist?? There's a goddamn picture, too, of us about a breath away from kissing on the stoop of an apartment, and I can only imagine the look frozen on my face right now. He clicks away, and it's to Chirper, where the search for "Darrow Times" he probably puts on his alerts is coming up with a thousand rechirps about the Times writer heating things up with Curt Wild, and a thousand more unsolicited opinions on what it all means. For whatever reason, this has blown up.

"Shit," I say. It's not as though we're some sort of bloody secret, and I don't doubt there've been rumors about who the hell I am before, but not this. "Shit."

"Look, I don't give a shit about your personal life, but just. If you're going to fuck a rock star--"

"Louis."

"I'm not kidding. You gotta know that there are people who don't want it to stay personal. It's not news to me, right? But it's not news at all until it is, and it is now, so do with that what you will."

"Yeah."

"And Arthur? I'm taking you off the music section until this dies down."

"That's bullshit," I exclaim, startled out of my daze by indignation.

"That's business. Go take a break."

I head out of the office as professionally as I can and rub my face, trying to collect myself. My first instinct is to call you. Have you heard already? What am I even feeling? I've never done the spotlight thing, and my heart is hammering in my chest. Is this what your whole life is like? I want to check Chirper again, some sick part of me wondering what people are saying. I sort of want to punch Louis for thinking this is worth pulling me off music.

I stare at my phone for a moment as my feet take me toward the corner cafe, unsure of what to do with it.

[Find Arthur heading toward lunch, call him on his phone, and/or have read the rumors that he's domesticating Curt. Strangers and friends alike!]

The Dog Prince

Jul. 23rd, 2017 11:14 am[personal profile] simplesam posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
simplesam: (dean)
July 8, 2017:

Sam's full-moon experience is altered by a cookie from a strange cabin and then the realization that he can't change back into himself.

[ HERE | complete | none ]


July 15, 2017:

Sam has been small, dark, and fuzzy for a week with no signs of that changing. Biffy and Daine offer much-appreciated assistance.

[ HERE | ongoing | none ]

(no subject)

Jul. 22nd, 2017 03:10 pm[personal profile] osten_des_rhein posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
osten_des_rhein: PB: Dan Feuerriegel (Default)
July 17:
Steve wakes up to Darrow playing tricks on him; neither he nor Agron handle it particularly well from the start.
[ HERE | on going | PG for canon typical swearing ]


July 20:
Agron makes a valiant attempt at physical affection with Steve, even though neither of them know what to do with Steve looking like a woman.
[ HERE | on going | TBD/PG13/Rish for adult sexual situations ]

(no subject)

Jul. 22nd, 2017 03:08 pm[personal profile] assassinwithahairpin posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
assassinwithahairpin: PB: byung-hun lee (Default)
July 4:
The fireworks at the Killjoy concert trigger Goodnight's PTSD; Billy does his best to calm his man down.
[ HERE | on going | handles PTSD panic; PG13/Rish for drugs and sexuality as coping mechanisms ]

(no subject)

Jul. 22nd, 2017 03:06 pm[personal profile] shadows_have_offended posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
shadows_have_offended: pb: robert sean leonard (Default)
July 14:
Neil and Gabriel enjoy their ice cream and each other under the pier.
[ HERE | complete | R for sexual situations, semi-public sexual conduct, horny teenage boys ]

I only wanted to begin

Jul. 22nd, 2017 02:22 pm[personal profile] hitchcockblonde posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
hitchcockblonde: (the sad face)
They said that crazy ran in the Cooper family.

The 'they' in question weren't anyone worth listening to, were the same people that would scrawl SERPENT SLUT on a locker in pig's blood. They didn't know what they were talking about. Polly had been at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy because she'd been pregnant, because she'd been a scandal, because what really ran in the Cooper family was secrets.

Another one: The Cooper family of which that pernicious they spoke hadn't existed beyond a generation or two back. Her great-grandfather had been a Blossom, a family that didn't even care that Polly and Jason had been related, had considered that a plus if anything. If there was crazy in the Cooper bloodline at all, maybe it came from there. The Blossoms certainly seemed to have plenty to spare.

But maybe it didn't come from anywhere. Maybe it was just her, just something inside her that didn't come from anywhere else. Maybe the crazy was just all Betty Cooper.

Because as much as she liked to pretend otherwise (and oh, wasn't that hypocrisy, in her railings against the secrets covering over the rot in Riverdale), the facts were these: Betty Cooper had lost time. She sat now on a train she had no recollection of boarding, traveling to a destination she didn't remember seeking. She'd been with Jughead, in his father's trailer -- his, now? She didn't know, now that FP was in prison, now that Jughead was living on the Southside, attending a different school, potentially living a different life -- and then with no gap, no seam she could pick at with the same nails she dug into her palms more and more often, she had been here. On this train.

Cut for length. )

She stabbed at the power button, shoved the phone back in her pocket, and slammed her palm against the glass of the information booth. "Hey!" she said, hammering on it before she had to step back, breathing hard. No help there. She'd help herself. She would have to help herself. She could do it. Someone had left the envelope. There was a thread. She could follow the thread. She would put her hair up in a ponytail, she would march out of the train station, she would ask where she was, she would work out what to do from there.

She would do all of this once she stopped feeling like she was going to unravel.

[Traditional debut style! Find her in the train station or wandering wide-eyed around the city.]
priordivergence: (Shatter)
July 9, 2017:

The boxing ring is suspiciously empty when I know there were people sparring there before he walked into the door. I look up at the man, thinking about his offer.

"I'm going to remember that you encouraged me to go after the balls."


Tris meets Mad Sweeney. They fight. It's fine.

[ HERE | ongoing | swearing leprechauns and short, violent people ]
ghost_holder: (Somber)
"So, like, I'm thinking I should start with my classics and then go into the unreleased stuff. Do something new," the ghost prattles and Aggie drops her face into her hand. In the last few days, Aggie has learned to hate that gingerbread house as well as the voices of the dead. Tiffany Charlotte's ghost has gotten increasingly lucid since her summoning, allowing her to hold full conversations, manifest in different places, and, apparently, meet with her agents and Todd Chad for a revival concert.

Lucid, but nothing of substance.

"I literally do not care," Aggie says. Tiffany Charlotte huffs and glances sulkily at the bone harp that sits on the table in front of her at the café. Despite trying to get rid of it, Tiffany has been using it as a vessel and seems to be able to take if where she wants, which has mostly been to hound Aggie.

"If you didn't care, then how come you made a freaky skeleton harp and gave me the power to, like, manifest?" Tiffany Charlotte asks, clearly annoyed at the tepid response to her concert plans from, as she put it, the creepy emo kid who brought me to life. Aggie resents all of those accusations since she wears too much color and not enough hair spray to be emo and Tiffany isn't actually alive, just given the power to take a consistent shape. Aggie wonders how they're going to put a mic set on her.

"I told you. It was an accident. Don't you have producers to meet? If you don't like me and think I'm creepy, why do you keep following me?"

"Um. 'Cause you brought me back? And I'm a ghost. Aren't I supposed to haunt you?"

Aggie is starting to ponder whether she can axe-murder a ghost.

[[Find Aggie in a café with a harp made of human bone on the table and the ghost of Tiffany Charlotte haranguing her. Despite her annoyance, it's a good time to meet her. Tiffany is completely visible, if somewhat transparent, but not corporeal. If you don't want to thread with her, you can say she disappeared in a huff. And, once again, Aggie's Fairy Tale is The Twa Sisters/Bonny Swans/Minnorie/Binnorie/Wind and Rain.]]
swingatshadows: (confused)
It started a few weeks ago. A strange cottage made of candy had popped up out of nowhere, and as usual, there was pressure for the Guardian to try and be the first to report on it with some meaningful amount of detail. And when it came to looking for volunteers to cover the story, plenty of people shied away, worried about what could pop out from behind those doors.

(The Easter eggs, it seemed, hadn't vanished from people's collective memory yet.)

So Cindy had picked up the story, because really, she was probably one of the people better equipped to face whatever it was that had erected the house. If it really was dangerous, better her to be in harm's way than a civilian hounded and pressured by Mary M. Madison to chase a hot story.

As it turned out, there was nothing in the house that immediately posed a threat. Nothing that even pinged Cindy to head in the other direction — walking into the building had made no more of a splash than walking into a pastry shop, with the smell of cookies and sweet bread baking and wafting from wall to wall. (And maybe Cindy had plucked a few gumdrops off the walls to test. For science.)

It was the next morning that Cindy awoke to the sensation of rain falling on her face, and looked up to find a small rain cloud which insisted on following her around wherever she went.

So for weeks, Cindy spent as many hours outside as possible. For weeks, she had metaphorically stuffed her costume in the back of her closet, afraid of people putting two and two together when it came to her identity as Silk. For weeks, she had worked outdoors, with an umbrella carefully positioned between rain and her laptop. And every evening resulted in a mad dash to the bathtub, where she layered blanket and poncho on top of herself, hoping to manage a couple hours' worth of sleep.

It was a pain in the ass.

Trying her best not to drip on anyone with her umbrella, Cindy stood in line at a food truck, her stomach growling as she rummaged in her pocket for enough cash to buy lunch.

"Girl," the vendor said, shaking his head when it was her turn. "You gotta find some other place to get your hot dogs, man. You've been driving away all my customers with those puddles you're leaving."

"Believe me, if I had any other option," Cindy sighed, carefully extending her arm out from under the umbrella to pass over her bills. "The usual, please."


[ Per fairy tale plot, Anans-indy brings the rain with her. Closed — if you still want to tag, please let me know. Thanks! ]

(no subject)

Jul. 21st, 2017 09:37 am[personal profile] shadows_have_offended posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
shadows_have_offended: pb: robert sean leonard (Default)
Friday evenings in Darrow, regardless of the time of year or any other events that might be going on in the city, tended to be bustling things. There was an active nightlife, for those who had been in Darrow as long as they could remember, and for those that had simply shown up here one day. In this, they were all in it together: the week had come to an end for those that worked a nine-to-five, and almost everyone wanted to celebrate the weekend.

It didn't take long after work let out for the day for so many people that restaurants, cafes, and bars all over Darrow were humming with energy. Those places that had windows had thrown them open to the balmy evening heat, which wasn't supposed to temper off until well into the evening--and, even then, it would still be a warm night. Summer was definitely in full effect, even with the occasional smattering of clouds overhead.

Streets were noisy with the comings and goings of people. Whether they were enjoying an evening out, or just getting off work, or just getting on work, Friday evening was turning into a bustle of energy. Down at the beach, people were setting up bonfires as the light got low, people continued to play volley ball and sand soccer until the light made it difficult, and the atmosphere was, generally speaking, one of celebration of the existence.

Once night settled, a blanket of dark that hardly broke the humidity of the day, the bars picked up and the clubs started to open. For those lucky enough to have already been getting in the door as soon as they opened, they were welcomed in with relative simplicity; it was in those short ten, fifteen minutes after the first wave that the lines began to form at some of the clubs, showing the places that had some drawing power: live music, a particular DJ, or just the sort of venue that a person might want to indulge in for the evening.

For Neil Perry, the whole thing is a mess of excitement. It was his eighteenth birthday today, and that means that he is officially an adult in Darrow. He can drink, smoke, and go out as late as he wants. They can't turn him away from just about anything at this point. And Neil, still a bit fresh-faced in Darrow, rather enjoys the idea that nothing can stop him now. And while the day was spent at practice for both plays of Shakespeare in the Park, now Neil has the whole night stretched out in front of him.

He texts a couple of his friends, just to tell them he's going to be out and that they should come if they can. Even if they can't, Neil's going to make the most of the night.


[Gathering post to celebrate a good summer day in Darrow! Play however, where ever, whenever you want in the day. Neil is going to be at dance clubs in the later evening to celebrate his birthday, but please use this post as a general sort of gathering to interact with whoever you'd like. Open to one and all!]

Meme: Off-Screen

Jul. 20th, 2017 08:54 pm[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] cityarcade
citycouncil: (Default)
There's only so much of our characters' lives we can (or would even want) to play out, so we can all assume that there's a lot more going on off-screen, as it were, than happens in threads. Today's meme is for illuminating characters' day-to-day lives and sharing details that their friends, classmates, and co-workers may or may not be aware of. The questions below are a jumping off point; feel free to remove some or add more, and to ask each other questions or let them know, what do you assume about interactions between your characters? How often do they hang out? What kinds of things do they do? Or respond expanding upon someone else's answers, with details about things you think might have happened or could happen between your characters. What is their daily life like in Darrow? Feel free to use these as jumping off points for possible threads or to inspire future EPs. (Questions are addressed to the characters to avoid pronoun confusion, but may be answered from the player's perspective, whatever's easiest/most interesting for you.


arrowofthegod: (Leannan's son)
Paul has limited experience of swimming in the sea. In Canada it had rarely been warm enough; in Fionavar, there hadn't been time before he'd gone to the Godwood and the Summer Tree. In Darrow, though, now the days are warmer and longer, Paul's been spending more time at the beach. He runs on the sand and then he strips off his sneakers and shirt and he wades into the water. He swims until his muscles ache, until he can feel his heartbeat throbbing through him. In dreams, he sometimes speaks with gods, with Dana in the moonlight or Leannan in the waves.

He wonders whether a call would be heard, from so distant a shore. He wonders if the thunder in his blood might find an answer.

He pushes both hands back through his dark, wet hair. The months after Rachel died had left him thinner than he'd ever been, wasted and wasting away. Now, now that he's seen how he can be forgiven, now that he's healthy, he's putting on muscle again, back to being that lean, rangy boy who played basketball so well that, sometimes, it had felt like he was flying.

There are things to regret about Darrow, things to miss about both Toronto and Fionavar, but Paul is happy more days than he has sad. He has work that he enjoys, friends, something that's starting to feel like a relationship.

Things have definitely been worse...

He's breathing hard when he comes out of the water and, for once, the god's voice is quiet, nothing in his ear but the loud and regular beating of his own human heart.

ooc: half-naked, dripping wet, excellent time to meet The Lord of the Summer Tree. ST/LT welcome.
high_warlock: (094)
July 12, 2017:

He remembered. He remembered so much.

Now that he knew, Alec found that he wanted to give everything back.


Alec receives all his memories up to his final moments in Edom.

[ HERE | complete | spoilers for The Mortal Instruments ]


July 18, 2017:

They'd been forcing normalcy. They'd been trying to go on about their lives despite the new knowledge in Alec's head and the information he'd shared with Magnus. They'd been trying to go on as if nothing was wrong, as if their wedding was the only thing to focus on.

But, Alec knew they were both lying.


Magnus finally breaks down over the news of the future that Alec shared with him.

[ HERE | complete | spoilers for The Mortal Instruments ]

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andhiswife: (Default)
The Baker's Wife

July 2017

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