Title: Are You Satisfied?
Artist: Reignwolf.
Played: 142 times

emiliaclarkss:

Well, I’ll do everything for you
You didn’t know?


  • rp partner: i suppose our muses could be happy for once
  • me: or
  • me: OR
  • me: we kill them
2 days ago6408regalae • (Source: susie1x1)

ch. seven ; clash by night.

valentinesxarrow:

      snow scraped the ground’s contour, glinting where a
      velvet blanket had unfurled. it was sparkling in all the
      equitable places. the barren land shed musk beneath
      the moonlight. FIRE dazzled in the distance, burning
      like ash and tinder. coppery blood had stained the air.

                 he went through the portal ALONE and came through
                 to find an empty blaze of destruction. their fallen ; the
                 endarkened’s fallen. they scattered in few, but grew as
                 time ticked within the darkness. his longsword, being
                 his only companion, stood with him through citadel,
                 half a claret of volcanic rock, half a cloud of white ice.

                              it glowed, throwing a cast of this burning-bonfire-like
                              illumination that encompassed his surroundings. and
                              adamas, their heavenly metal, circled the layout, which
                              was casting off a gleam, burning in silver flames. home
                              to the iron sisters.

              home to the slaughterhouse as the dark species were
              wasting nephilim blood. the shadowhunters couldn’t
              bare the masks, these faces held their loved ones, yet
              they had been corrupt by an infernal cup. as good as
              DEAD. jace had experienced that firsthand with clary,
              and still struggled to wrap his head around the fact.

                               if she were in battle now. could he kill her?

image

                       jace whirled on his feet, precision like a cat, his weapon
                       flashing out, and ichor had fanned ahead—- the colour
                       was a thick black and it began to bubble up, as if drops
                       of water had dissolved in  INK. not glossed, but rough,
                       an edge that was rasped with sandpaper. he felt how it
                       looked.

           there the boy cut his way through the endarkened, veins
           alight with the heavenly fire — an angel of molten gold. he
           toiled as his kind were hesitant to kill their lost, ultimately
           killing themselves. he could not convince them otherwise,
           watching a death toll climb and the ground open beneath.

               ❛ GO! ❜

           they were crowding her. looking to her with their black
           eyes, mirroring  hers.   a crimson  sea  of   bodies  had
           already dispersed,   leaving  clary  with  a  silent  group
           of red  clad  warriors.  they  weren’t waiting for anyone
           but  her.   though   those who  stepped   forward,   were
           followed     by      another.        then      it      was     amatis.  

image

                          she  had  always lingered. even for  clary  ;  but with
                          heosphoros  and  its  dark  metal glinting in  the  light 
                          of the moon amatis,  was gone in a second  with  one
                          single nod. and hot on her heels came clary.   hooded
                          and her face concealed, the crimson material another
                          shade darker than her curls. 

                certain death remains around where blood is spilt on
                the  frozen  ground. like  mismatched  paint it  stood 
                out. the blood of her kind. the blood of her army. but 
                there  is  more.  there  is  more  to  come and more to 
                waste. she doesn’t have the heart to care. it’s all gone.

                the smile she wore was unnatural and cruel. peering
                from the place where she stood, war had been waged
                before  her  eyes.    though   all  she  looks  for  is  one 
                nephilim. clary feels a sick hope spread from her dead
                heart, grin dropping as she moves towards the fallout.

                one  of  the  endarkened  struggle  under  the  grip  of a 
                shadowhunter,  seemingly some came to fight,  instead
                of  weeping  for  their  loved  ones.   clary  sprints  over 
                clawing  her  nails  into  hot  flesh,   turning  the  figure
                around to  drive  heosphoros through the leather gear.
                watching  the  man  fall  to  her  feet,   with  all  the  rest. 

                       fire  and  flames  lick at the air above.   turning the dull 
                       night into a  golden  lit  sky.   bodies lay on the ground 
                       with  copper  stains  in the white  snow.  still they fight, 
                       and still she hears the screams  and sobs of loss.   fear
                       seeps  from  the  ground and  it should.  she  is  glad  it
                       does,   because the  first person  clarissa morgenstern 
                       sees at the corner of her eye,  is someone willingly lost.

malevolient:

image

                                    ❛  REALLY? oh, i knew he would see to it overtime—-
                                    that he belongs here. with ME. hmmm. maybe you’re
                                     not so bad, clary. at least you have preeeetty hair.

                                                 not as pretty as mine.

                      i see.  oh, i see.  i thought you were just tricking.
                      no, no, no.  your  brother got his way.  haaaaaaa,
                      look at you! one of them now.  well, i guess it’s
                           better. an improvement, like me.

                                                                                    do you love it?
                                                                                        i love it. ❜

image

                                    ❛ yes, of course! see, you know him too well, maureen.
                                    he’s bound to turn up one day begging for you to take 
                                       him back. it sounded like he was so excited, too!

                      i wouldn’t trick about something like that,
                     that wouldn’t be very nice now would it?
                        but, it is an improvement, you’re right. 
                       life before was just boring

                                                                   i do. i love it, too. i can’t
                                                                 think of anyone who wouldn’t. 

+Devilish Conversations

jonathanardecufoc:

image

                                 Then would you please explain to me what this bloody
                                     book is about?! Dreaming of the past are you? What do
                                     you want to run home to mommy and suck on her golden
                                     tit some more? Am I not enough for you anymore or would
                                     you rather drag golden boy back in here and tie him to the
                                     bedpost for you to r i d e into the sunset?  ❞

        [ [      as she takes the book from his hands and throws it away he
                 can’t help but letting his dark and molten gaze stay fixed to
                 her vibrating with a conflicted rage and jealousy. sebastian
                 wasn’t one to feel jealous, to feel the h u m a n insecurities,
                 however his curiosity over his sisters true commitment to the
                 cause was often spurred in the darkness of night. this often
                 led to his twilight wanderings to find one smudge of infidelity
                 between them. her gleaming gaze was almost effortless
                 when she looked up to him, something that he wished he
                 could completely understand. how did such a meek girl turn into
                 an equally frightening monster? he sighed at her, the fit of anger
                 melting slightly at her expression.     ] ] 

image

                  ❛  my sketchbook. you’re getting worked up about
                   my  sketchbook.   my sketchbook,   that  i  haven’t
                   touched in months. that only  holds what was dear
                   to me then,  and what i want  dead at my feet now.

                             a lot has changed and you should know that.  

     there is a calmness to her voice.   with pursed lips that are blood
     red,   and her gaze is trained on his.  their eyes a mirror image of 
     the others.   both black endless voids  with no soul,   but his are 
     rimmed with  a  white fire.  which,   she has come to know,  can 
     only be lit by hatred and anger and power. their hearts are corrupt 
     though one more than the other, though it seems, still like family
     they are  bound by blood.  clary has made  promises that she has
     an intent  on  keeping.  both to him,  and to herself.  the day she 
     ascended to that throne she  was giving up everything she gained.

     and to save the ones she had loved.  that throne that made her feel
     like a little girl,  and was too intimidating,   with its skulls and 
     icy coldness,   it is the place where  she belongs now.   no where 
     can hold her, with her heart pierced with claws. she is too far gone. 

Nephilim Week(TMI) Day 1: favorite character 

Clarissa Fray - "Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it."  

valentinesxarrow:

[13/07/14 12:51:13 AM] ellie: [13/07/14 12:50:54 AM] clazza.: GOLLY GOSH DIDDLY DANG GOSH DARN IT
[13/07/14 12:51:14 AM] ellie: perfect
[13/07/14 12:51:18 AM] ellie: put that on a t shirt
[13/07/14 12:51:23 AM] clazza.: i will
[13/07/14 12:51:28 AM] clazza.: i’ll make millions
[13/07/14 12:51:41 AM] clazza.: that’s for sure
[13/07/14 12:52:02 AM] ellie: copy rights to ned flanders
[13/07/14 12:52:58 AM] clazza.: http://i.imgur.com/2HnGjEx.png
[13/07/14 12:53:01 AM] clazza.: cries
[13/07/14 12:53:31 AM] clazza.: can i put that on a t shirt instead

+Devilish Conversations

jonathanardecufoc:

image

                          “There are a lot of things I’m willing to forgive Clarissa,
                         but this constant need to run away has grown quite old.  
                            — Did you honestly think all these little half hearted
                      enchantments would keep me away from my perfect queen?” 

     [ [  his movements were easy to spot as a sketch book in hand
          he had been going through every inch of her physical manifestation
          of emotions and thought. that was how he had come to picture her
          works of art, it was a glimpse of something his sister had been too
          stubborn to ever let him see. the second she entered the room the
          white haired boy turned his head to look at her and all her womanly
          charms. he pulled the book close before lifting it as proof of his point.  ] ] 

image

          ❛   what’s that about a constant need to run away? 
          sebastian, i will not lose what you have built for us.
          i chose to stay, with you, with the only one i have. 

     promises of nephilim BLOOD and hellish FIRE. that is what
     he has given her, whispers between kisses. a burnt morgenstern
     legacy creeps from stone floors and stone walls. this fiery edom
     has seen nothing but monsters ; clarissa’s heart is a beast among
     them. brows crease forming a frown as she sees the white pages
     smudged with charcoal and led. blood stained hands have forged
     runes and created sketches in that book he has in his hands. they
     are from a lifetime ago. still, she would have cringed at the sight
     of it, but those memories are forgotten and have been tossed in
     the fire, along with all the rest. those drawings, however, they say 
     otherwise. reassurances of the things he already knows still splutter 
     from her mouth. they are forever now. as clary moves closer to
     him,   
she plucks the  book from  his hands  and tosses  it away,
     without  watching  where  it  lands.   though  she’s  hoping  it’s 
     burning down to ashes.

CP