#jocelyn still trying to hide it

[the-mortal-incorrects]

Jocelyn: Come on, aren’t you a little old to have an imaginary friend? Clary: I guess… Jocelyn: So maybe make some real friends, ones who don’t have scaly skin and forked tongues. Clary, stopping dead in her tracks: I never told you what it looked like.

[livvyofthelake]

objectively annoying as hell when someone says they’re a fan of shadowhunters and then they refer to clary as “clary fray” that’s literally not her last name. you used jace’s correct last name. ish. but you won’t use clary’s. ok… what’s your problem fr

[little-spicy]

LIES

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond is to be married to Jocelyn Baratheon for an alliance and doesn't tell Y/N. He's willing to lie to keep her and way more.

A/N: okay so watched outlander and this scene is TOTALLY Aemond. When Jamie says "I would do far worse than lie to keep you."

WARNING: SMUT 🔥🔥🔥 MDNI!! Angst, non/con to dub/con, breeding kink, etc. (let me know if I forget anything) CONTAINS SMUT!!!

THE NIGHT WAS SILENT AS Y/N PACED BACK AND FORTH IN her chamber, her heart filled with rage and disparity after hearing the news of an engagement.

Y/N was Rhea Royce's and Daemon Targaryen's child. After her mother's death, Daemon took his daughter and raised her as his own. She was a Targaryen through and through and was loved by her family.

Her strong spirit and her kind nature was what made her the heart of her family.

Even though she was loved by both the Blacks and the Greens, not even her could stop the battle of ice and fire between the families.

She did side with Blacks, she felt as if she had to since her father was with them and she loved her step mother, sisters, and cousins dearly.

But in her mind she had always longed for Aemond, they were always so close to one another as children and as they got older they still were close but only in the shadows.

The Greens and Blacks were silent enemies before they both were born but nevertheless they both knew it would never be approved.

No one in their family knew of it, every kiss and touch were in secret and it pained them both to have to hide.

And once the king had died, the fires from both families began to burn.

The fight over the Iron Throne had begun and Y/N was asked to go and grab allies before the Greens could.

However when she reached Storm's End, Aemond was there as well to seek an alliance.

The two clashed and fought and as Y/N went home to return to her family, Aemond had taken Y/N. Forcing Vhagar to take control of Y/N's dragon and force them to go to Kings Landing.

She was a prisoner and taken to her old quarters and to be bargaining chip.

She honestly believed that Aemond had taken her to be his bride, telling her a long time ago that he would.

The weeks had gone by and she was visited from time to time by Aemond or on the rare occasion the Queen.

But one morning her maid came in, talking about how Queen Alicent had announced Aemond was to be wed to Jocelyn Baratheon.

When hearing the news Y/N's heart broke and asked to not be disturbed for the remains of the day.

At first she cried and stayed in her bed, her heart ached as thought she knew the man she loved.

But as she cried the tears of sorrow soon became tears of anger. She felt used, she felt that every word and every touch was just a game and she felt like a fool.

She was ready to release her fire in her and she felt it bloom once she saw Aemond come into her chambers.

"You bastard!" She yelled and threw the closet thing to her at him.

He leaped out of the way as she threw a book at him and his eyes held anger as well.

"Seven Hells! Have you gone mad?"Aemond asked and came towards her and she slapped him. The force made his head turn to the side.

"You lied to me!" She cried and was about slap him again but he held her wrist. "Fucking Jocelyn Baratheon!"

Aemond's eye widened at her words and realized that the word had spread. He tried to keep his composure as she tried to hit him.

"Calm down." Aemond said as he held her back, squirming in his arms and trying to claw her way out.

She pushed him away and she breathed heavily as they stared at each other.

"I- I gave myself to you." She said angrily. "I let you take me and you claimed you loved me, I was fool to think you actually cared for me."

"Hold you tongue." He seethed. "I have never loved anyone else, I am just as surprised she announced it."

"But you knew?" She asked and Aemond sighed and nodded.

"My mother told me of it a couple of days after I brought you here." Aemond said. "But I didn't think-"

"You lied to me." She said and laughed bitterly. "You two will be an adorable couple, while I'll be called the Targaryen whore."

Aemond looked at her in anger.

"Yes I lied but that doesn't mean I love her, my mother forced me to accept." Aemond said. "What am I to do?"

"Leave." Y/N said." We are both subject to our families quarrels and we have no debt to them over a fucking throne."

"If you haven't forgotten your cousin took out my fucking eye." Aemond said and pointed to his eyepatch.

"So you're willing to lose me for this?" Y/N asked and Aemond was silent, she shook her head as tears began to fall. "Get out."

"No." Aemond said firmly and tried to come close to her.

"Get out!" Y/N yelled and threw a chalice at him. He avoided it and pounced on her and grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him.

"Yes I lied, it doesn't fucking matter." Aemond said and squeezed her arm as she tried to get loose. "Believe me when I say I would do far worse than lie to keep you."

He grabbed her face and kissed her roughly. She bit his lip and caused him to release her and she slapped him.

"Get off me!" She yelled and tried to run but he grabbed her arm again and pushed her onto the bed.

"You are mine, no one not even my mother nor the gods could stop this." He said and kissed down her neck, sucking on the skin harshly, leaving dark hickies.

"Fuck you!" She said and kicked his leg, causing him to groan in pain and release her. She got off the bed but was tackled to ground on the fur rug and he held her close.

"I love you and only you."'Aemond said and she cried in frustration as she tried to get out of his grip. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. "Don't fight it."

She looked into his eye and saw his feelings, the desperation, the anger, his love. She tried not to cry and turned her head away from him.

Tears fell from her cheek and she felt him kiss her tear stained cheek.

"You are mine." Aemond said and kissed her neck and in an instant grabbed her nightgown and ripped it in half.

Her breasts were exposed and she tried to fight the moans as he began to suck and bite on her breasts.

He moved his hands all over her skin, the smoothness and smell of lavender filled his nostrils. He moved his hand down to her cunt and felt the wetness.

"If you fight so much why is it that I feel as if your cunt was a waterfall hmm?" Aemond taunted and began to move his fingers around her folds.

She let out an agonized moan, she felt the sparks fly and tried to refuse her body reactions.

Aemond removed his night clothes and began to rut against her with his hardened member. His pants the only barrier between his and her warm walls.

"Please." Aemond said and kissed down from her neck all the way to pubic bone.

"Leave with me." Y/N said and looked down at him as he stared at her in front of her drenched entrance. "That's the only way we can be happy, leave with me."

Aemond moved away from her core and looked at her in the eye. His face held fear and she touched his cheek and sigh. She moved his eyepatch and looked at the sapphire that was in it.

"You and I both know that's the only way." Y/N said. "I want to be yours but I know in the end our family will die in flames."

Aemond knew it was true and for once he wanted to be selfish. He was the second born, the boy who would inherit nothing but a title. He didn't want to be the lap dog for his brother or his mother. He's done so much that he felt that he deserved something.

As he looked down at Y/N he knew that was his something.

"I will." Aemond said and kissed her. Y/N moaned in the kiss and when they released Aemond moved his pants down and removed them. "I want to marry you, I want to run away."

"Yes, please." Y/N said and gripped his hair as she felt his kisses on her neck and the bites that came along with it.

Y/N cried out as Aemond swiftly plunged into her core. She moaned as Aemond began to fuck her.

"We'll move far away across the sea and-" Y/N was cut off by Aemond lifting her up and carrying her with his cock stuffed in her and placed her on the edge of the bed.

"I'll fuck my children into you, I want a whole family." Aemond said and rutted into her and put her legs on his shoulders. "I'll breed you until your full, I'll fuck you every night if I have to."

The words Aemond spoke and the way his cock hit her sweet spongy spot, she couldn't help but feel the walls tighten and breath hitching.

"Aemond I'm-" Y/N was cut off by Aemond kissing and grunting.

She felt her walls clamp down and she screamed as she felt Aemond's cock twitch. She heard as he let out a soft moan and rocked into her.

She felt his arms and wrapped around her and held her close. She felt the goosebumps on his skin and felt him pull out.

She felt the warm cum dribble out and Aemond smirked at his mark on her.

She watched as Aemond grabbed his shirt and trousers and grabbed her a few things.

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked Aemond and he came forward with her clothes.

"We're leaving." He said and helped her up and grabbed a cloth and stuffed it in her cunt. "Don't want it all to fall out."

She leaned forward and he helped her put comfortable clothes on.

"Thank you." Y/N said and Aemond kissed her forehead.

"No, thank you." Aemond said and Y/N looked confused. "For giving me a choice."

Y/N smiled and both of them decided that night that their fate was their own.

Nobody knew what had happened of the couple. All that was left was a note from both children.

Revealing their love for one another and that they decided to leave and refused to take part of the disintegration of their family.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were torn apart that their family member had abandoned them both.

Daemon had never been the same once he learned his daughter had left. Some believed that he died of a broke heart when fighting Aegon on his dragon.

Some say that the lovers escaped to another land and had many children. That they had turned to farmers and lived their lives to the fullest, away from the cursed throne.

But one thing they had always gotten right was that Y/N and Aemond Targaryen loved and died together.

A/N: hope you all liked it! Love some steamy angst! Ty for reading and I also do other fandoms! As well I wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!

[alexanderlightweight]

hello, hello. Hope you're having a good Wednesday. Your last week sounded stressful, hopefully this week is a little more kind.

Ive always liked the idea of magnus changing his home's layout once he and Alex are committed by adding a waiting room/anteroom. That way it helps keep magnus' private life a little more separate from his duties as highwarlock. With this, alec doesn't have to worry about coming home/leaving their room and interrupting a sensitive meeting and downworlders don't have to worry about a shadowhunter just *being there* at a potentially vulnerable moment. So, if it interests you, I'd really like to see this explored, perhaps in a pre-canon relationship context? Maybe where jace/izzy/Clary show up for clary's memories and have to take a figurative number?

This is long and rambling but hopefully something in this prompt will help inspire something 💛💛💛

I love Magnus separating his area so this is right up my alley! This is in the Quarrel vs that needs a name (Alec finds a hellhound and he and Magnus share custody)

I hope you enjoy!

—

Magnus changed the layout of the loft the night he met Alexander and it was actually because of Quarrel.

And perhaps because of Alexander, a little.

The entire top of his lair is changed to accommodate for his new hellhound and the shared custody with Magnus’ shadowhunter.

Now, Magnus keeps the first three levels of the apartment complex as a greenhouse. The next level is where Magnus will his clients, with a waiting hall and a foyer.

It’s filled with the scent of potions and herbs and old books and Magnus layers it with wards and arrays of secrecy.

The proof of a hellhound loose in New York is all the evidence Magnus needs to set up protections.

So he creates a maze of wards that keep his clients from ever accessing anything but the level he allows them on and only when he allows it.

His own personal lair is kept tightly controlled and the war level wards are not only turned up to keep things out, but to keep things in.

Nephilim are now unable to track him and while Jocelyn may complain to Dorothea, Magnus only is willing to have contact with a single shadowhunter from now on.

Dorothea can find another warlock to take the child’s memories. Magnus has greater priorities than such a simple thing.

—

It’s months later; when they have gone from sharing custody of Quarrel to Quarrel and Magnus sharing custody of Alexander, that Magnus adds even more changes.

There is now a staircase that Alexander can use to access every level but the level for clients. It gives him and Quarrel access to the greenhouses and the roof and Magnus enjoys coming home to find the two wrestling in the moss of the gardens or the stone of the roof.

It hides Alexander’s angelic signature from other warlocks, his scent from werewolves, the call of his blood from vampires and the presence of his life from seelie.

Magnus wards Alexander with the same fervor he wards his oldest and most valuable magical texts. His shadowhunter comes in from the roof or the balcony, kisses Magnus with a dark joy and then waits until Magnus is done with his own work.

Alexander is harder to tame, more difficult to gentle than Quarrel. More skittish and far more tormented than a hellhound still growing and Magnus is thorough as he builds a sanctuary for both of his darlings.

This is to protect the world from them and then from the world after all.

—

Magnus pauses from where he’s petting Alexander’s hair. The Institute has been a mess of tensions and Alexander is a furious and soul-bruised mess. It means that Magnus himself is also furious, when angelic signatures not connected to his boy approach. They linger with a warlock and Magnus tsks as he realizes Dorothea is involved.

Magnus lets them wait for hours. Even when angry and frantic fire messages bounce off his wards, when Dorothea is convinced to try magic to signal him or when the shadowhunters try to use unlocking runes.

Magnus watches it all with his eyes closed, his mind focused on the images being relayed as Menace curls atop Alexander’s back and Quarrel in front of him. The hellhound leans back, so that Alexander’s arm dangles against her fur. Quarrel gives the floor a baleful look, as if she can feel the presence of unwelcome intruders.

“I’ll let you eat them if they wake him up.” Magnus promises her and he finally uses magic to gently move Alexander as Magnus gets out from under him. Magnus takes a moment to pet over his hair and press a kiss to his cheek and then he snaps his fingers.

His outfit changes as he is no longer simply Magnus Bane, he is the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

And he has clients to attend.

Uninvited ones at that.

[drawthethingdoppelganger]

DTtttt~ what are some of your favorite headcanons? I guess they could be for any show but I’m really looking for Bob burger hcs (shocking I know)

Do I know you?

Jimmy Jr has suggested to Tina multiple times about a Footloose EFF

Bob and Linda get very competitive at boardgames, so much that they started a parcheesi tournament

Mr Branca hides a bunch of personal stuff in the school's ceiling. No one really cares but he still gets nervous about his collection of Bleach Boys (*limited edition*) CD records, hence a rumor about "dead body in the ceiling" spread around the school

The eighth grader gang has a group chat but it's mostly just Tammy and Jocelyn chatting with each other (Tammy talks shit a lot and Jocelyn's the only one who replies)

Louise tries to sell Gene's jar of milk teeth on eBay labeling it as "dinosaur fossils"

Jimmy Jr's running posture is also his swimming posture (he swims fine but looks like he's drowning)

Louise made a voodoo doll of Logan for a revenge scheme. He was actually impressed by the attention to details

Jimmy Jr and Zeke learn bartender tricks from Trev and try to impress Andy and Ollie with it (they try to spice it up with unnecessary parkour)

[itlivesproject]

Headcanons for the LI receiving a suggestive picture from MC while they’re busy? How would they react?

Abel

If you send Abel a suggestive picture while he’s busy aka teaching the next generation, he will handle it so badly. He’ll stare at his phone, eyes wide, smile big, then realize he’s being really suspicious and counter it by frowning really hard. Which, of course, Abel doesn’t really frown, so this is even more conspicuous than the goofy smile. He’ll have to shove his phone in his pocket and not look at it until later. He’ll probably debate really hard about whether or not to send you one back, but once he decides to he’ll lock the door to the employee bathroom and spend like 15 minutes crafting the sexiest nude he can manage in fluorescent lighting.

Amalia

If she's out and about at school, she would look at the picture and the moment she sees it, she'd lose all her cool and become immediately flustered. She'd hide her phone under her desk so no one can see and text you back, half-angry, half-turned on, like "i'm at school?? what are you doing?? someone could've seen this???" but when you ask her if she didn't like it, she'd tell you that she never said she didn't like it, and she'll talk to you when she gets home ;)

Jocelyn

She would be all over this. She'd see it, and immediately horny bells would go off inside her head. Wherever she is, she'd try to find a way to get out, maybe going so far as to just straight up leave in the middle of a conversation. She would go to the nearest bathroom and sext you back (and she's really good at getting sexy selfies), and then you two would probably text back and forth for a bit until she really can't put off what she's doing anymore and she has to go back to work/school.

Lincoln

If you’re living together and MC is at home, he leaves you on read and you feel somewhat disappointed until suddenly he shows up at the apartment. You’re all surprised, like “I thought you had work” and he says “Not when you’re sending me pics like that.” Alternatively, if mc is not at home, Lincoln still doesn’t text back but suddenly you get an incoming FaceTime from him. He came up with an excuse to head to the back and the two of you have a fun little break from your busy days for your very innocent video call 😇

Matthias

What’s a phone? Haha just kidding just kidding, though he would be less into texting. You probably sent him a sext three months ago that he never responded to because he didn’t even realize it was there.

[im-out-of-it]

part six of season one recap AND YES ITS THE LAST ONE 🥹

can we talk about Simon a bit more? (bold opinions coming up) I touched on him in the last post but I think besides Alec, he is done dirty by clary. I don’t think she ever thought about simons feelings about being a vampire. even excused her actions by saying “I was going through this change and would it be so bad if we were these new people together?” GIRL YOU ARE MISSING THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT

how about how Simon would feel about being a vampire?

even has the audacity to look disgusted when Simon drinks blood like the fuck do you think he’s going to survive on? I wish I could support their relationship but I don’t. not their friendship or when they date. Clary just uses Simon over and over again. it doesn’t surprise me how he barely calls her out on it but it’s almost as if he expects it???????

I don’t call out the show for a lot but I do wish they would have at least attempted to make clary more likable but maybe she was never made to be likable. she takes advantage of anyone she can and even uses the gift of extra rune ability to portal herself around and the angels taking that gift away and her finding out jace is her “brother” was rightful karma

and if jace was an option, guess where clary would be??????? not telling Simon he is the closest person she has for sure!!!!! she didn’t mind running along with Jace and ignoring Simon when he was going through his vampire change. I feel like Simon is to clary- this symbol who she needs in her life when she needs something but she actually doesn’t care what happens to him- as long as he’s not dead. because if he’s not dead then he can be of use to her

some Izzy and Simon content below:

I love me some Raphael 🥹 he’s also in my top five/ten fav characters on the show. he’s also much better in the show than the books. we don’t need another child vampire around. I even like his ending and his whole relationship that grows with Simon. I love their banter. I absolutely adore his father son relationship with Magnus in the next season!!!!!!!! I’m glad they featured more on Raphael and created storylines for him. yes I love the yin fein storyline

also I think it’s cool that shadowhunters can channel into other people and that they have technology. I feel it would help but it was soooooooo cute of CC to try to mock that in her books as well as Izzy. (sarcasm is included)

didn’t get a chance to but I also like meliorn and how they featured him in the show. I love downworlders calling shadowhunters out on their own problematic behavior and wish we had more of that on the show.

Jocelyn is a terrible parent and the main reason why clary is how she is. it doesn’t matter if you don’t want your daughter to be a shadowhunter, girl you’re on the run and hiding a cup (and cough cough other stuff) like what is with the message of not having young girls and women not defending themselves????? Jocelyn is insufferable as well but so is clary and they’re both entitled

Luke isn’t a bad character but I still stand by him being a terrible leader while I’ll go more in when I start season two

also Jocelyn and Luke don’t make any sense and they don’t have any chemistry

killing off jace would’ve been the best thing to do and I would have loved to see Alec and Izzy living their best life without him. just seeing Alec realize “wow he was a dick and I don’t feel this toxic energy in my life”

I also stand by clary leaving jace and bettering herself. I don’t think jace is capable of change and clary is as bad as him but I think if she were around better people and got her ass in therapy, she could be better. I just think jace is done. he doesn’t care about the people who are there for him and more interested in the crusade he has with the “little girl”. honestly clary isn’t that much redeemable either. but they are an improvement from the books at least. NOW THAT IS VASTLY INSUFFERABLE. it’s literal torture reading TMI YALL lmao

and the Malec wedding will always be iconic

AND I JUST WANT TO REMIND EVERYONE THAT THIS IS MAGNUS OK????? THIS IS HOW HE ACTS

I know it’s not considered a parallel but the show fucking ate when they decided to make Malec center stage like THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH

Magnus saying would you really risk your life for a shadowhunter while doing just that and Alec asking you want me to give up my life for you lowkey basically doing that is the funniest dearest irony/parallel they had

Alec made that choice for himself (which is an argument next post) but he’s also choosing Magnus. while Magnus hates the shadowhunters- he does risk himself very much. it’s one of my favorite parallels of a sort because you kinda forget about it since it’s so early on but they both ask these questions in a “I would never do that” kind of manner and end up surprising each other AND OMG I LOVE THEM

also a few extra to close out my recap: MAGNUS IS SUCH A MOOD (so is Alec and that is why they are both my favs)

fuck you fuck you very muuuuuuuuch ✨🎶

Harry did such a great job in season one being Magnus. I know I posted so much about Magnus and Alec but I love them so much. Matt and Harry both turned book Malec around and actually gave it POTENTIAL REPRESENTATION PURPOSE. show Malec was one of the first non stereotypical trope type lgbtq+ couple I saw that didn’t follow those tropes but who are fun exciting and passionate. PLUS HOLY MOTHERFUCKING BLOODY SHIT YALL THE CHEMISTRY (my dumbass for real thought they fell in love off stage cause the chemistry was on actual fire 🔥) and I will constantly in any event always have such awe and appreciation for them. they’re both so wonderfully supportive of lgbtq+ rights AND WE LOVE THEM OFF AND ON SCREEN

and that concludes the season one recap. I’m sure there was some I wished to include but if y’all wanted 10 posts of season one, y’all should have said that so because no one contributed lmao (I love any of y’all who get excited to read my stuff and I hope y’all know I’m jesting) THIS IS WHERE WE LEAVE OFF ON OUR RECAP but I also tried to do gifs of very important scenes so don’t come at me. also if you’re looking for a particular scene, I most likely did a post about it

in case anyone missed malecs song-

season one isn’t my favorite but Magnus is underrated so i lowkey love it and that is his best style there. Alecs development is so well done and the arrival of Izzy, Simon, and Raphael is a delight. I hope y’all enjoyed his cat eyes this season because that’s the last you’ll see them (part 1 of recap) like the first season sucks because of jace and clary and the cgi but MALEC. as I said before, watch for Malec and it’s a fucking treat

but thank you for joining we love doing our season one recap discussion bitchpost and I’ll be doing season 2, episode 1 shortly. I’d like to do this week since I have lots of free time 🥹

[x-ceirios-x]

City of Lost Souls, Chapter 21: Raising Hell

please see the masterlist��for notes about this series/collection of works

"Can you see her?" Jocelyn demanded. "Is she there?"

Simon tried to focus on the milling darkness ahead of him, his vampire senses sharpening at the distinct scent of blood. Different kinds of blood, mixing together—Shadowhunter blood, demon blood, and the bitterness of Sebastian's blood. "I see her," he said. "Jace has hold of her. He's pulling her behind that line of Shadowhunters there."

"If they're loyal to Jonathan like the Circle was to Valentine, they'll make a wall of bodies to protect him, and Clary and Jace along with him." Jocelyn was all cold maternal fury, her green eyes burning. "We're going to have to break through it to get to them."

“We need to get to Sebastian,” said Rowan. “Simon, we’ll make you a path. You get to Sebastian and run him through with that sword. Once he dies—”

"The others will probably scatter," said Magnus. "Or, depending on how tied they are to Sebastian, they might die and collapse along with him. We can hope, at least." He craned his head back. "Speaking of hope, did you see that shot Alec got off with his bow? That's my boyfriend." He beamed and wiggled his fingers; blue sparks shot from them. He shone all over. Only Magnus, Simon thought resignedly, would have access to sequined battle armor. 

Rowan pulled their chakram off of their belt and turned toward Simon, white-knuckled fists on both of them. They were anxious, as much as they were trying to hide it. “Are you ready?”

Simon's shoulders tightened. They were still some distance from the line of the opposing army— he didn't know how else to think of them—who were holding their line in their red robes and gear, their hands bristling with weapons. Some of them were exclaiming out loud in confusion. He couldn't hold back a grin.

“Hell, Simon,” Rowan said exasperatedly. “What are you smiling about?”

"Their seraph blades don't work anymore," said Simon. "They’re trying to figure out why. Sebastian just shouted at them to use other weapons." A cry came up from the line as another arrow swooped down from the tomb and buried itself in the back of a burly red-robed Shadowhunter, who collapsed forward. The line jerked and opened slightly, like a fracture in a wall. Simon, seeing his chance, dashed forward, and the others rushed with him.

It was like diving into a black ocean at night, an ocean, filled with sharks and viciously toothed sea creatures colliding against one another. It was not the first battle Simon had ever been in, but during the Mortal War he had been newly Marked with the Mark of Cain. It hadn't quite begun working yet, though many demons had reeled back upon seeing it. He had never thought he would miss it, but he missed it now, as he tried to shove forward through the tightly packed Shadowhunters, who hacked at him with blades. Rowan was on one side of him, Magnus on the other, protecting him—protecting Glorious. Rowan’s silver knives flew through the air and shone in the moonlight, and Magnus's hands spat fire, red and green and blue. Lashes of colored fire struck the dark Nephilim, burning them where they stood. Other Shadowhunters screamed as Luke's wolves slunk among them, nipping and biting, leaping for their throats.

A dagger shot out with astonishing speed and sliced at Simon's side. He cried out but kept going, knowing the wound would knit itself together in seconds. He pushed forward—and froze. A familiar face was before him. Luke's sister, Amatis. As her eyes settled on him, he saw the recognition in them. What was she doing here? Had she come to fight alongside them? But—

She lunged at him, a darkly gleaming dagger in her hand. She was fast—but not so fast that his vampire reflexes couldn't have saved him, if he hadn't been too astonished to move. Amatis was Luke's sister; he knew her; and that moment of disbelief might have been the end of him if Magnus hadn't jumped in front of him, shoving him backward. Blue fire shot from Magnus's hand, but Amatis was faster than the warlock, too. She spun away from the blaze and under Magnus's arm, and Simon caught the flash of moonlight off the blade of her knife. Magnus's eyes widened in shock as her midnight-colored blade drove downward, slicing through his armor. She jerked it back, the blade now slick with reflective blood; Rowan screamed as Magnus collapsed to his knees. Simon tried to turn toward him, but the surge and pressure of the fighting crowd was carrying him away. He cried out Magnus's name as Amatis bent over the fallen warlock and raised the dagger a second time, aiming for his heart.

Amatis drove a knife toward Magnus’s heart—just as a loud boom sounded over the fighting. Something small, a bullet, Simon realized, flew through the air. He did live in Brooklyn, but he thought Shadowhunters didn't use guns. The bullet slammed into Amatis’s shoulder with such force that she spun halfway around and fell face-forward to the rocky ground. She was screaming, a noise quickly drowned out by the clash of weapons around them. Rowan knelt by Magnus’s side; Simon, glancing up, saw Andy on the stone tomb, standing frozen with a smoking gun in her hand, blond curls blowing in the wind. She looked like a character from a movie—blood staining her face and gear, staring her mother down without an ounce of sympathy.  Rowan had their hands against the warlock’s chest, but Magnus—Magnus, who was always so kinetic, so bursting with energy—was utterly still under their touch. They looked up and saw Simon staring at them; their hands were red with blood, but they shook their head at him violently. 

“Go!” they shouted. “Find Sebastian!”

With a wrench, Simon turned himself around and plunged back into the battle. 

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

the fashion of Hand turns Loom - Women

for my fanfic Hand turns Loom (contains some spoilers!)

@levithestripper i think you started reading this once so maybe you're interested?), @ilikeitbetterangsty (i'd love for you to read this fic, but also, this was so fun to make and maybe something for your ocs as well?)

Alethia Stahl

At the beginning of the story, Alethia has to start from scratch again. She's quite dependent on House Strong, and often wears Strong colors (especially blue) for that reason.

Also, she alters some of her clothes to look more like those from home, especially dagged sleeves are something that stay for a while. There's almost no embellishment, which is also for practicality. Her hair is very simple, and sometimes gets compared to men's styles.

As Alethia moves up the ranks of King's Landing and establishes herself, growing close with Helaena and Aemond, her clothes become more adjusted to court fashion. The dresses become cleaner, more well-tailored, and more embellished. Here and there, Alethia begins to throw in a piece of jewellery (apart from her earrings). In the yard, she keeps to the clothes she'd wear training in her old home. Her hairstyles start to become more sophisticated, and often are quite similar to those of Helaena.

The richness of her clothes and hair peak when Alethia marries Harwin. At this point, she's rich, influential and established, but dangers are starting to surround her and her family. Embellishments and gold galore, Strong colors all the way, Alethia becomes a sort of symbol of strength. Subconsciously, she takes a page out of Cersei's book and begins to incorporate armor-like elements into her dresses.

At this point, her hairstyles become stricter again, such as the ones she wore back home, and she wears her hair in braidcrowns.

Helaena Targaryen

At the beginning, Helaena is still very close to canon - the kind of forgotten, kind of ignored middle child. She's still dressed a lot by Alicent who (partly on purpose) dresses her in colors that don't compliment her a lot. The silhouettes are ill-fitted and don't follow many trends of the court.

In her early teens, when Helaena is forced to marry Aegon, she tries to rebel by wearing Targaryen colors. It's an attempt to show that she is a dragon, has a voice, belongs to the family. While she tries to mimic Rhaenyra to gain her freedom, she ends up wearing some of her mother's dresses from when Alicent was trying to fit into the family, which is an irony in itself. During this time, Helaena experiments a lot with silhouettes and hairstyles and grows partial to headdresses and dagged sleeves. Still, she always tries to cover herself and kind of hide in her clothes.

As Helaena kind of begins to find her freedom and herself, she starts to realise that she'll never be some hardened warrior, but she loves and accepts that part of herself. She embraces her softness, her kindness, and this is reflected in her clothing. The lines become softer, her waist drops, her sleeves become more dagged. A lot of it is for comfort, but a part of her still uses her clothes to hide. The colors do become much more suited to her though.

During this time, Helaena wears a lot of blue. It is her secret way of showing Aemond that there's people there for him. Also, she returns to her braid-crown, and starts incorporating more embellishments, some of which are an ode to Dreamfyre (with whom she loves to match).

***

(i haven't written as much on these characters, so there's less pictures, but that doesn't make them any less important!!)

Jena Selmy

When Jena comes to court with Jocelyn Dondarrion, she's only her friends lady-in-waiting and quite low in standing. She mostly wears simple styles, combining fashion from the Stormlands and the Crownlands.

Later, as she becomes lady-in-waiting to Helaena, Jena starts to wear more purple to honor her "best friend" (she's so gay lmao). Generally, her style remains very, very loose, with lots of flowy fabrics. Her sleeves are mostly in the split-sleeve style that is so popular at court.

The money she starts to silently earn in Braavos isn't that obvious in her clothes at first, however, Jena begins to invest in more expensive materials such as Myrish lace and fine silks. She also starts to wear her housecolors some more. Even though she constantly looks like a bride thanks to the white, gold, and beiges in her sigil, the court is well aware she refuses to marry, and it makes her happy to be a better represenation of her house than her father or brother.

Cassandra Strong

Now why is she always dripped the fuck out?? Even as a child, Cassandra loves riches, loves fashion and loves luxury. When Harwin refuses to spend even more money on his daughter, she turns to betting and gambling, and does this quite successfully. Still, in her childhood, Cassandra follows the trends of the court very closely.

Later, when Cassandra gains influence and standing, she begins to incorporate even more detail in her clothes. She loves complicated stitching and stones that are incorporated in her dress. Also, she begins to become a sort of trendsetter, and moves away from the fashion of the court. Nonetheless, 80% of the time, she'll wear blue. It's her color, and she knows she looks good.

As she matures, Cassandra realises that many men don't take her seriously due to her gender and some of the extravagance leaves her clothes. The lines become very strict and harsh, and she tends to cover up more, opting for long sleeves and never wearing wide or low necklines anymore. Cassandra also develops a signature hairstyle (see the pic in the middle) where the silhouette of her hair is always confined to the space around her head.

Morrigan Strong

Morrigan and Cassandra are meant to be polar opposites, and this is reflected in their clothes. Morrigan keeps to Riverland fashion, which Cassandra DESPISES. She dresses for practicality, and wears a lot of masculine styles, especially since she trains so much.

As a child, Morrigan has exactly one dress that's fancy that she likes to wear. She does not like the constricts a skirt brings with itself and prefers to wear things that could be from her father's wardrobe.

When she matures, Morrigan becomes more aware of the politics that are reflected in clothes, and wears dresses at court, and pants outside of it. Still, her clothes are always simple, and maybe even a little below what someone of her station would wear. As said, she dresses for practicality. Has the most comfortable boots in Westeros.

Dilah of Volantis

Growing up enslaved and very poor left a lasting effect on Dilah. She does not feel safe in court, preferring large cities or the wild. Dilah mostly wears "men's clothes", and styles from the Free Cities, especially Braavos. Overall, her clothes are very travel-friendly, and could be worn in many different regions of Planetos.

She refuses to wear anything that could be touched by Volantis.

During Winter, even in the South, Dilah is always cold. She does not cope well with lower temperatures, and that is reflected in her ridiculously warm clothing.

and that concludes my thoughts! i wanted to add baela and medea but there was no space for their pictures anymore. oh well...

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Playdate

Fandom: Inception

Pairing: Robert Fischer x OC

Summary: They’d moved from Australia to Los Angeles nearly two years ago, and yet he still hadn’t made a single friend. 

Series: Part 1 of Hiding Here Inside a Dream

Word Count: 3,423

Notes: Jocelyn Fischer is the name that I’ve given to Robert’s mother. Warnings for reference verbal child abuse.

Main Masterlist

Next Part

Jocelyn leaned against the kitchen counter, fiddling nervously with the phone still clutched in her hand, thumb rubbing over the worn buttons as she watched her four-year-old playing quietly with his toys in the middle of the spacious living room. 

She was trying not to worry too much about him. The last thing she wanted to do was overreact and do something rash, but at the same time, they had moved from Sydney to Los Angeles almost two years ago, and he had yet to make a single new friend.

Not that Robert had many friends back when they still lived in Australia, but he had been younger, then. Practically still a baby. Or at least that’s what it had felt like to her. 

She was born in Australia. She met Maurice one year after graduating from culinary school. He’d come to the restaurant she was working at and insisted on speaking to the chef who had made his steak. And that was it. They dated for…not nearly as long as they probably should have before getting married. The Fischer Morrow branch in Australia was booming, but the one in California was in need of more direct oversight. Robert had been barely two when he announced–announced, not asked, or discussed–that they would need to move to Los Angeles indefinitely. And so she packed up her baby and her things and said good-bye to the only home, family, and friends she’d ever known.

Los Angeles was…fine. Even though she didn’t know anyone, and her husband spent all his time at work, and his mother was awful and even though she insisted that she could help with Robert, Jocelyn frankly didn’t want the woman anywhere near him. 

At first Robert’s lack of friends hadn’t concerned her. She didn’t have very many friends growing up either, and she turned out relatively okay. But ever since they’d moved, Robert had been even quieter than usual, tending to just sit with his toys or in front of the television. Part of her suspected that maybe he was homesick. The other worried that the latest incident of Maurice yelling at him had more of an adverse effect than she’d initially thought.

She didn’t know how it even started. She had just left them alone for a minute, just a minute. Robert was playing on the living room floor like he was now, Maurice sitting at the table doing paperwork. When she came back, Maurice was yelling, pacing back and forth and shoving a wagging finger in Robert’s tear stained face. She’d shooed her husband away furiously, picking up Robert and whisking him back to his room. He cried and cried his little heart out, her sweet boy clinging to her as his entire body trembled with sobs. Jocelyn had put him to bed early with his favorite stuffed koala bear clutched tightly to his chest, blankets tucked in tightly around him. Even after he fell asleep she remained hovering at his bedside, watching his chest rise and fall, staring at the blotchy red marks his tears had left on his cheeks. 

When she went back downstairs to confront Maurice about what happened, he’d just scoffed and shrugged her away, growling something about how oversensitive Robert was.

There were times where she thought that maybe she should leave. Take Robert with her and get out. But Maurice’s army of lawyers would destroy her if she tried to divorce him. They could even take Robert away from her. And then he would be alone. In this big, empty house. With just Maurice and his hatefulness. That wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

It was amazing how Maurice could have changed so much. He had never been as excited about the pregnancy as she was, but he hadn’t been apathetic either. And when he found out that they were having a boy he’d been thrilled. His blatant jealousy of the attention that she bestowed onto their child made no sense to her, nor did his fury over Robert not being a simple carbon copy of himself. It was only just beginning to become clear to her that perhaps Maurice had never wanted a child but an heir. And not just any heir, but one who he considered to be worthy of the Fischer Morrow empire. A son, just like him both in personality and temperament, to run and preserve the kingdom once Maurice was gone.  

But with every passing day, it was becoming clearer and clearer which of his parents Robert took after. And it certainly wasn’t his father.

Robert may be quiet, bordering on docile, but he was also incredibly, incredibly kind. He was always the first to ask her if she was okay when she was upset, and he was so affectionate it warmed her heart. Always wanting to hug and cuddle with her.

And he was so sensitive, maybe a little overly so, but that was okay. She’d rather have an over sensitive child than a cruel one. Tears pricked at her eyes as she watched her sweet little boy squeeze his stuffed koala to his chest in a huge hug. So much love. Her little boy had so much love to give.

And he seemed so lonely. And sad. Melancholic in a way that a four year old boy should never be. She’d tried to arrange playdates with some of the children that lived in the area. but nothing had stuck. Sure, he played well with the other kids, but often it was just him following them around the playground, listening quietly as they chattered. And on the way home, when she asked him if he would like to see them again, he just shrugged noncommittally and stared down at his shoes. 

He just needed a friend. Surely that would help him. At least a little.

“Robert, sweetie?” she called. Immediately his head jerked up. He was so fucking cute, with his chubby, freckled cheeks and big light blue eyes. She didn’t think that it was just her bias as a mother that made her think that he was going to be beautiful when he grew up.

“Yes, Mama?”

“Are you hungry? I could make you a sandwich, if you wanted?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Peanut butter with the strawberry jam?” he finally asked timidly.

“Sure thing,” Jocelyn moved towards the cupboard.

“With the crusts cut off?” he wandered into the kitchen, stuffed animal still clutched in his arms.

“Of course.”

He suddenly wrapped his little arms around her waist. “I love you, Mama.”

“Oh, honey,” she had to blink hard to keep from crying, hugging him back tightly. God knows that he needed all of the positive affection he could get. Poor thing. “I love you too,” she kissed the top of his head. My baby. My poor, sweet, baby. Your heart is too big for this world. “Why don’t you go clean up your toys while I make you your sandwich?”

“Okay,” he let her go, heading back into the living room to methodically place his toys back into their box. By the time he came trotting back and climbed into one of the barstools in front of the counter, she was just finishing up his sandwich, chopping off the crusts as requested with quick, expert movements of her knife.

She really did miss cooking. When Robert was old enough to be left on his own, perhaps she would go back. Find a kitchen somewhere that would be willing to hire her, even if just part time. They didn’t need the money, but she missed the scent of fresh ingredients and the organized chaos of other chefs bustling around her. 

“Here you are,” she said, setting the plate down in front of him.

“Thank you, Mama.”

She glowed with secret pride at his manners, leaning her elbows on the counter as she watched him eat. “Robert? I was wondering if you would be up for going on a playdate tomorrow afternoon?”

He looked up at her, eyes suspicious. “A playdate?”

“Mhm. I have an old friend from college who I’d like to catch up with, and she has a little girl about your age. They invited us to come join them at the playground. Do you think you would be up for that?”

He considered. “Is it the playground with the swing set?”

She nodded. “And the big blue slide.”

He chewed thoughtfully before answering. “I guess that would be okay.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I promise that this one will be more fun than last time,” she didn’t think that she would ever forget the horrified look in her son’s eyes when the boy he’d been playing with promptly decided that it would be fun to not only dig around in the dirt, but then try to eat the worms that he found wriggling around in the soil. Poor Robert had run back to her screaming when the boy had tried to throw one at him. 

God, she hoped that Dana’s daughter didn’t also have a proclivity for digging around in the dirt and mud.

Dana had been in her culinary program back in Australia. Originally from California, she moved to Sydney for college to get away from her overbearing parents. They’d been close. But then college had ended and Dana had moved back to Los Angeles. Jocelyn had been reluctant to look her up initially after moving. They hadn’t stayed in touch and it felt…just a little too desperate at the time. But now she was desperate; willing to try just about anything if it meant that her son wouldn’t be lonely.

When he was done with his sandwich he took the plate to the kitchen, stepping up on the little stepstool she got for him so he could wash his plate off and put it into the dishwasher. Jocelyn ruffled his mop of thick dark hair proudly as he did. From the moment he was born she’d promised herself she would do everything in her power to ensure that he didn’t become some spoiled rich brat incapable of doing anything for himself. No. Her son would learn how to do his own laundry. Mop flours and clean bathrooms and sew fallen buttons back onto his shirts and unclog drains. It didn’t matter that they had maids and staff to all do that for them. He would learn. He would be self-sufficient. She would make sure of it.

When he was a little older, she intended to teach him how to cook. To pass on all the things she’d learned while in culinary school to him.

“Hey, Robert?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to help me make some cookies?”

The way that his eyes lit up made her heart soar. “Sure!”

He couldn’t do much more than lick the spoon and get his hands and face all sticky, but that was okay. She still explained everything that she did to him carefully, letting him at least try. And his grin when he sank his teeth into a gooey cookie, getting smears of half melted chocolate all over his cheeks, was the best thing that Jocelyn had seen in the whole world.

“Mama?”

She jumped to alertness, half asleep on the couch as the television played. Maurice had greeted her with little more than a grunt when he’d gotten home, disappearing into his office where she had to assume he was still holed up with his beloved paperwork. He hadn’t even acknowledged Robert when he came in, and he didn’t eat dinner with the two of them. She had only tucked Robert into bed an hour ago before coming back downstairs to watch a nature show.

“What is it, sweetie?”

He was hugging his koala to his chest, face half buried in its worn fur. “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh, Robert, sweetie, come here,” she opened her arms so that he could climb onto the couch and snuggle against her, sniffling quietly. She rocked him gently back and forth, like she had when he was a baby and wouldn’t settle, until he finally relaxed against her, tears drying. “You wanna stay down here with me and watch the animals?” she asked, nodding to the screen that displayed a sea otter floating in the water.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she patted his head, letting him lay on her as they watched the show. By the time it was over, he had fallen fast asleep against her.

Robert was clinging to her leg, blue eyes wide as he stared out at the other children screaming and racing around the playground. Jocelyn patted a hand on his head, smoothing down his dark hair. He had insisted on bringing his koala bear with him. That was okay, though she worried about it getting dirty or lost. She supposed that it was becoming something like a security blanket for him. She’d read about those, in one of the parenting books she’d read when she was pregnant.

God, she had no idea what she was doing. 

A sudden burst of helplessness settled without warning in her chest. If this didn’t work out…what if he never made any friends? What if he was lonely forever? What if something happened to her? Who would help him, and take care of him, and hold him when he was upset? Who would give him love and affection? Certainly not Maurice. She doubted at this point that he was even capable of loving the child that he’d all but rejected.

The pregnancy had been unplanned, and she didn’t have anyone around to help her. To give advice on how to handle any of this. Had she been fucking up this whole time? Had she done irreparable damage already? Traumatized him with the move from Australia to California? Maybe she hadn’t been doing enough to help him make friends, or to shield him from his father’s heartlessness.

Before she could spiral too much, a flash of golden blonde hair caught the sun from the other side of the park. Dana. Maybe Dana could help her. Give her advice. She had mentioned on the phone that Alice was her second child, so she’d clearly done this all before. 

Her old friend from college looked more or less the same, maybe her hair was a little longer. The bags under her eyes were certainly new. Clinging to her hand was a little girl with long dark brown hair and huge, downcast brown eyes. Her coloring must take more after Dana’s husband, Andrew. But as she and Dana drew closer, she could see a bit of Dana’s bone structure reflected in the little girl’s face. Beside her, Jocelyn heard Robert gasp. He grabbed a fistful of her shirt, tugging until she bent down.

“What, Robert?”

He cupped his hands around her ear, whispering. “Is she an angel?” his eyes were wide as saucers, holding something in them that Jocelyn could have called awestruck.

She didn’t have an opportunity to answer, as Dana and her daughter finally came to a stop in front of them.

“Joci, it’s so good to see you,” Dana stepped forward, arms open as she approached Jocelyn for a hug. Jocelyn stepped into the embrace in relief. Robert was still clutching her leg, peering curiously from behind her at the little girl standing quietly next to Dana.

“You too,” she let go and took a step back, squatting down so she was at the young girl’s eye level. “Hello there, you must be Alice. I’m Jocelyn Fischer.”

The girl blinked at her, once. With eyes that looked like maybe they had seen too much. There was something haunted about them. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Fischer,” she said finally.

“And this,” she very, very gently reached behind her and nudged Robert forward. “Is Robert.”

Alice turned her gaze to him, blinking. “Hi.”

Normally, this was the moment when Robert would glance up at Jocelyn cautiously. When she would have to reassure him that it was okay, sometimes even give gentle encouragement for him to go play.

This time, however, he took an immediate step forward, eyes still round with wonder as he stared at the little brunette girl in front of him, koala hugged to his chest. “Are you an angel?” he blurted out. Jocelyn’s jaw just about hit the ground. Next to her, Dana gave a tiny chuckle, hand raising to cover her mouth. Alice blinked, confused.

“No, I’m Alice.”

Robert looked down. “Oh.”

Alice tilted her head a little. “I like your koala.”

Robert’s head raised, suddenly perking up. “Thanks!”

“Do you like the swings?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay. There’s some over there,” Alice pointed before beginning to walk towards them. Robert darted forward, one hand still holding his koala tight, but the other shot out to grab Alice’s hand, clinging to her tightly. The girl looked down at their joined hands, almost in confusion, but she didn’t seem perturbed, and she didn’t let go of his hand or try to pull away as they walked towards the swings.  

“Jocelyn? There’s a nice bench in the shade, over this way. We can still see them,” Dana said. Jocelyn blinked at her owlishly for a moment.

“Yes! Yes, right. Sorry. I just,” she glanced back to Robert and Alice. “I’ve never seen him take to someone so quickly before,” she followed Dana to a wooden bench underneath a huge oak. It was nicely shaded, and let her see the entire playground. She tried her best to give Dana her attention, listening as she went on and on about the difficulties between Alice and Celia, Dana’s oldest. How Andrew was no help with the children. Things got a little uncomfortable when Dana started talking about their money troubles, as they always did whenever someone brought up financials. Though Jocelyn almost found it even more awkward the way that Dana was constantly comparing Alice to Celia. And how no matter what, Alice didn’t seem to be able to measure up. At least not in Dana’s eyes. 

Jocelyn, however, was fighting back the urge to run onto the playground and pick the little girl up into a massive, grateful hug. Her sweet boy was smiling. He was smiling and it was all because of Alice, still letting him cling to her hand as they ran around together.

There was a sweetness to the little girl, a gentleness in the way that she handled Robert. But at the same time, she seemed to be able to coax him from his shell, checking in regularly to make sure that he was having fun. And she didn’t seem to mind how he held tightly to her hand, or when he suddenly gave her a hug. She just smiled widely, returning the hug with a little squeeze.

“She doesn’t have many friends,” Dana shook her head. “I don’t understand why. Celia never had trouble making friends, you know? Everyone always liked her.”

Jocelyn tried to hide her discomfort over the way Dana said it. Like it was some sort of failing on Alice’s part that she didn’t have as many friends as her older sister. The haunted look in the little girl’s eyes was beginning to make more and more sense. 

Jocelyn wondered, as she watched Alice hold Robert tightly in a hug, seemingly just a reluctant to let go as he was, if maybe the girl needed a friend just as badly as Robert did. 

Maybe they would be good for each other.

When it was time for them to leave, Robert pouted magnificently, those big baby blue eyes widening as he pleaded for just a few more minutes. It only worked the first two times. By the third, they really did have to go. He flung his arms around Alice before they left, and the little girl squeezed him back tightly, and as they were walking away towards the car he kept glancing over his shoulder after her.

“Did you have fun, sweetie?” Jocelyn asked on the drive home.

“Yeah!”

“Would you like to see her again, sometime?”

He nodded so vigorously that she was worried he would rattle his brain inside his skull. Jocelyn laughed, trying to hide her relief. Her sweet boy finally had a friend.

“I’ll talk to her mom and see if we can set something up soon, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.”

She smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe Robert wouldn’t seem so lonely and sad anymore.

Maybe being friends with Alice Emerson would finally bring him some happiness. 

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

Next Part

Series: Part 1 of Hiding Here Inside a Dream

Main Masterlist

[thesinglesjukebox]

EMINEM - "HOUDINI"

Careers are passing like a solar eclipse...

[1.95]

Jonathan Bradley: Marshall Mathers came up with his Slim Shady persona while taking a crap, dude, and he's been trudging through shit —  and other bodily expulsions — his whole career. He surfs on shit in the "Without Me" video; he augments his singles with fart noises; one of his most famous lines is about vomited spaghetti. The obsession extends beyond the scatological and deep into the self. Eminem — Detroit trailer trash, high school dropout, failed Nas imitator — is shit, he knows he's shit, and while he has the talent and the demonstrated ability to transcend his fecal origins, he has again and again thrown himself into the sewer. It is the place he feels he belongs, perhaps, a domain of self-loathing ruled by ressentiment, a fetid funfair of novelty and corny jokes and low culture and — of course! — "offensive" lines, the kind that each year become more obligatory and delivered more mechanically. You could blame "Fack" or "Just Lose It" or "We Made You" on the drugs, but you could blame them even more expertly on Eminem's self-loathing, the way he knows that someone like him doesn't deserve to be celebrated. "Houdini" is terribly unpleasant, and perhaps more so because it's the sunset of rappity-rap "awfully hot coffee pot" Eminem and the carnivalesque return of Pop Eminem, of Trickster Eminem, of Edgelord Eminem (who was an edgelord long before the term was invented). He flips a sample of the Steve Miller Band's cocaine clammy "Abracadabra," and one could fault him for rhyming that title with "I'm back, bruh," except that it's no worse than the original "reach out and grab ya": each is the kind of line that you're trying to forget you just snorted off the back of the seat of a john. I don't think Eminem takes shots at Megan Thee Stallion or trans people in this song because he bears them any antipathy; he can't even bring himself to actually form a coherent thought on these subjects. (You can hear YouTube personalities cueing up their "Eminem REACTS to the TRANS issue" overlays, because they, like he, know that he doesn't have to REACT in any specific way for it to matter.) If ever this worked, it's because Eminem could once claim his ablutions channeled the dark awfulness of America, but his country's most reprehensible impulses have changed since 1999, and he's now unwilling or unable to commit entirely to being an avatar for them, nor to repudiate them. I despise him for his ambivalences: he's 50 years old and still wanting to mine transphobia and homophobia and misogyny for effect, but unlike in his younger days, when he would dare to say he wanted to hate-crime me, he today hides in feet puns and word games about Siamese cats. I might imagine it's deliberate. He's not an asshole; shit comes out of assholes. He's a turd — and one who knows he's a turd, who wants to prove again and again that he's a turd in case anyone might dare to imagine otherwise.  [1]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Not worth the line-by-line thinkpiece. If we collectively ignore it, maybe it’ll follow its central conceit and disappear.  [0]

Hannah Jocelyn: I’ve always been fascinated by Eminem, especially as someone who went to summer camp in 2010, and I've recently been messaging with the writer Holly Boson about her in-progress book on all matters concerning Marshall. Her writing on that is phenomenal and meticulous, and it helps me understand why he’s Like That, for better or worse. Unfortunately, even with her context, the deliberate self-parody and self-referencing on "Houdini" are grating; there's nothing subversive anymore. The Megan Thee Stallion joke doesn't work as shock value or as self-deprecation, and I feel the same way about the faux-transphobic lines: I'm not offended by their presence, I'm offended that they're lazy retreads of The One Joke. We know you have a non-binary kid! Similarly, the "Girl Scouts" and "participation trophies" lines ironically repeat buzzwords that aren't even used ironically anymore; the culture has shifted past passive-aggression and toward outright hostility. Isn't he supposed to be pushing boundaries or something? That all extends to the production -- thankfully it's better than the blown-out abrasiveness of Revival, but it's basically slapping the percussion track from any older song of his over an uninspired flip of a mostly forgotten early-'80s AOR song. We're left with Em, his stilted delivery, and his trademark off-key singing, given nowhere to hide. He’s done worse, but that had its own shock value; the "abracadabra" and "bag-bruh" rhyme makes me long for even 2018, when we had "vnmmmmmadrenalinemomentmmmmmm." [3]

Dave Moore: I gave up being a card-carrying Eminemologist 20 years ago, so my sense that this is a somewhat limp but lightly amusing rehash of previous styles is a weak (and therefore malleable) take -- one that probably can't, for instance, withstand the torrent of context, analysis, and provocative tangents that Holly Boson, the only critic I really trust on modern Eminem, can bring to the picture. So: provisionally mediocre.  [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I genuinely appreciate how high concept this is — the length of history weighs upon Eminem, a quarter century of stardom encircling him and dragging him back through his own excesses. But god, what an unpleasant piece of music. "Without Me," this track's precursor, made the case that this guy truly was one-of-one, an auteur of crassness that could make cut-rate circus music sound like the most interesting thing in pop. "Houdini" doesn't do any of that. Instead, we get Steve Miller karaoke and enough shtick that one must consider the possibility that this sounds this bad on purpose. [3]

TA Inskeep: Granted, I've never been a fan, but this shit is just embarrassing, a return to his bullshit pop-cult insult-comic days atop a painfully obvious sample. Give it up, man.  [0]

Oliver Maier: There's something pleasingly coherent about Eminem soundtracking his fifth or sixth song about how not-washed he is with a Steve Miller Band song that my dad used to play on the car in between Dire Straits and Californication. On the other hand, the intent is clearly a sonic callback to the snotty "Without Me" beat, which makes me like it less. More tiresome to me than the chortling outrage bait about his transgender cat are the many parts of this song where Eminem farts out callbacks to his hits, as if that will help make the case that his best days are not behind him. He's not even referencing the good stuff! Whose favourite part of "Without Me" is the bit where Eminem repeats "guess who's back?" through a pitch shifter?  [3]

Katherine St. Asaph: There's nothing inherently useless about bringing Slim Shady back, back again -- the concept is integral to the undeniably best Eminem song of the 2020s, "Eminem Becomes a Second Century Warlord." But this is the musical equivalent of celebrating your 50th birthday by spending the whole day on 4chan for old times' sake. 50 is also about the age you'd find Steve Miller cool. [1]

Alfred Soto: Sure, the "Abracadabra" sample is lazy as fuck, but it's the catchiest thing in an Eminem single since the Obama presidency. The incomprehensible stupidity of the chorus has to be a Dada-esque prank.  [4]

Will Adams: It's amusing how the hook goes "and for my last trick!", as if he ever had more than one. Ever the hot-button issue provocateur, Em makes references to Megan Thee Stallion getting shot (which was four years ago), attack-helicopter humor (also four years ago), participation trophies (seven years ago), and R. Kelly and urination (21 years), while also exhuming several of his hits that are over two decades old as if he's truly pulling back the curtain on the State Of The World today. Even the video, wherein a 2002 Slim Shady steps through a time portal to 2024 and grimaces at his surroundings (a pink-clad influencer taking selfies; robot delivery carts; a man wearing a VR headset), brings less to mind an insightful lyricist than someone whose brain has been melted by Facebook and Fox News. [0]

Andrew Karpan: Yet again, the unfortunate lore of rap records making fun of Megan Thee Stallion for literally getting shot has grown, now coming in the form of self-conscious shock jock antics from one of the original progenitors of the sport itself. The arc of the pop universe is long, but it always bends backwards, toward itself. Em’s most inspired move is choosing to flip one of the most unpleasant pop songs of all time, literally “the sort of song that immediately scans as garden-variety bad and then becomes worse when you think about it more.” And here it is, all over again, somehow made even worse. [1]

Taylor Alatorre: Music Critic Gives Low Score To New Eminem Single, ‘But Not Because He’s Offended By It Or Anything’ [1]

Mark Sinker: he’s still got it, he’s the pompatus of dril  [8]

Brad Shoup: He's a technician, sure, but his certification lapsed in the Obama administration. There was perverse pleasure to be had in his baroque era, as he tried everything to keep himself awake: silly little voices, endless enjambment, doubletime lectures. In a sense, "Houdini" is a throwback: Eminem's dogshit lead single that still hits #1. But outside of the Sherri Papini joke at the end, there's literally no joke here that hasn't long been ground into dust. (Honestly, it's quite possible he wrote everything backwards from the Papini/Houdini rhyme.) He's been a hack for like two decades now—Criss Angel frowning in an Army cap—but here, his big reveal is that he's a hack with delusions: the defining archetype of the crumbling American empire. Being a mediocre tryhard is incredible work, but he's got an amazing support network.  [1]

Ian Mathers: I know Eminem apparently has tons of different flows, but this feels like the same one (or same subset, I guess) that he always uses. And it's boring. I'm sure that on a technical level the rapping here is good, but I'm bored. I know I'm supposed to be either outraged or delighted, but I'm bored. I know there's all kinds of shit to see in the video, but I'm bored. I know I'm supposed to love or hate nabbing the chorus from a mid Steve Miller Band song ("Fly Like an Eagle" or nothing tbh), but. I'm. BORED. [2]

Jeffrey Brister: No level of technical ability can cover up what are just warmed over redpill talking points. I suppose this was always going to happen. But all of these grievances were tired and played out nearly a decade ago, and hearing an out-of-touch former pop star regurgitate them like he’s ringing an alarm bell would be funny if it wasn’t so enervating. [1]

Aaron Bergstrom: From Steve Albini to Violent J and beyond, we as a music-loving populace have demonstrated that we are endlessly willing (maybe too willing) to forgive decades of braindead edgelord nonsense at even the tiniest gesture of an apology. I mean, we have now largely rehabilitated Fred Durst. No white man has to be the hateful idiot he was at 18, or even the hateful idiot he was at 40. There's always an off-ramp nearby. And so, as I slogged through the humiliating spectre of a 51-year-old man trying to land a RuPaul joke in 2024, I couldn't stop thinking about how many chances Marshall Mathers has had to be... not this. Just literally anything but this. And yet here we are. [0]

Scott Mildenhall: Only Marshall Mathers' changed Eminem party can give this world its future back. With the bold promise of no new ideas, it offers a timely reminder that atrophy can be disguised as stasis, providing that improvement is not an option. So why ever seek it? Now is all you have ever had, and this is what now is. A trademark brand of overengineered rhymes whose tragedy belies their intermittent imagination. Things can only continue. [2]

Nortey Dowuona: I understand that a lot of people feel the need to keep kicking the dead horse of "Eminem sucks," but I have to ask: if he actually made a good song that did not sound like what his fans want (warmed-over 1998 boom-bap nostalgia) or what his pop fans want (warmed-over 1999 Dr. Dre funk nostalgia), would there be a market for it? As any of his aging offspring would bitterly tell you, there is none. Eminem was trapped by choosing to become a massive popstar, not a consistent musician who kept developing. His entire style had spiraled into defanged repetition of trying to provoke anyone he knew by the time Encore rolled around, and by The Eminem Show, it was already over. Anyone who is engaging with Eminem's music -- especially this -- is either trapped in amber or stuck on a treadmill, trying their best to slay this frustrating old beast who attempts to keep going because there is no other outlet for his musical desires. He can't quit, only retread on your nostalgia until you turn your attention to other things, which is easier than ever. So I would ask you to respond to this with complete indifference. He wants your attention -- do not give it to him anymore. [0]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[crosby-interesting]

Jocelyn Wedow has been out of Auston's life for like 4 years now and is still a hot topic. I don't think they were ever in a real relationship tbh. His girlfriend Megan is way more interesting. There is a ton of gossip about her on numerous sites. Kathy is fairly innocent in comparison. She doesn't come across as using Sid for clout or an extravagant lifestyle. He appears to treat her like a placeholder which must suck. Only they really know the truth about their relationship but it seems strange from the outside looking in.

I've said many times that it's okay to protect your relationship and not try to put your entire personal life on display. I'm not a fan of reality TV! But Kath hides from people, like she's afraid the police or her former clients will recognize her from her photos on the internet, lol

[monstersandmaw]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by R.N. Peacock (@r.n.peacock)

Picked up a pencil for the first time in ages today and drew my latest character.

Meet Jocelyn ‘Joss’ Fenwicke (‘fenn-ick’). He started out very much human, but after a ritual goes wrong, he ends up melding with a demon and binds himself to a young woman who’s in way over her head with all this supernatural stuff…

Find out more in my upcoming story! It’s a multi-chapter, 3rd person m/f romance, featuring: magic, summoning rituals, demons, vampires, ghosts/spirits and a splash of British folklore, gargoyles & grotesques, secret societies at two of the oldest universities in England, a young woman who’s really just here to clean up after them and definitely not being paid enough for any of this, a young man trying to uncover the truth about his mother’s death in a car accident 15yrs ago which left him paralysed from the waist down, and his father who’s hiding a dark secret…

Follow for more - I’m still working on a name for the story, and it’s probably going to turn into a short novel length piece. Who knows, I might even publish it one day.

(I’m so bad at blurbs omg)

(C) do not use, edit, reupload elsewhere. More images over on my author/writing Instagram.

[skylar102]

NLBF - Chapter Nine

Magnus is going to kill him. If Asher thinks his first death was painful, he has another thing coming. The man was supposed to just go to Ragnor’s house and find any evidence as to where they might have taken Ragnor, not follow them back to their hideout.

Not that Magnus isn’t appreciative of his efforts. Jocelyn was of no help and Magnus was getting antsy in that tiny bedroom. He would have preferred at least getting a text of what the man was doing before he did it so that Asher wouldn’t be alone on a ship that is filled with a homicidal maniac, Circle members, and potentially brainwashed Downworlders.

After the phone call, Izzy, Jace, and Clary all but demanded that they come with, much to Maryse’s disapproval. She wanted to wait for the Gard, but Jace was able to convince her that time is of the essence and the longer they wait the more likely the chance that they lose Valentine. Though, with the Gard already on their way for Jocelyn, Mayrse would only be able to hold them off for a bit before they made their way to the ship.

Magnus quickly shot a text to Asher that his siblings were tagging along and he hoped the man got it. This is not the way to have a family reunion, especially when Asher wants nothing to do with his past life. He made that very clear when they spoke at the farmhouse. From Asher’s perspective, it makes sense, but after everything he’s witnessed, he knows that he’s wrong about his siblings. Izzy and Jace miss him so much that the pain is still here four years later.

Their love for him is so strong they’re willing to go against their parents to do what is right. Asher would be proud of them.

The shipyard is dead at this time of night. All the workers have gone home save for a few stragglers and security. None of them are any the wiser to the three Shadowhunters and warlock walking through the area. 

“There’s the ship,” Jace says, pointing to a cargo ship at the far end of the dock.

Asher gave Magnus a few details to go off of when looking for the ship that he had relayed to the others. The ship definitely looks like it has seen better days. The bow looks like it's about to fall off and there’s a suspicious burnt hole on the side of the ship. Probably from a warlock trying to escape. 

“The ship must have docked recently,” Isabelle says. “This area is a known patrol spot for Kappa demons and there is no way we would have missed that.”

“Maybe the hole in the ship forced them to return,” Clary suggests, also pointing out the damage. “It could be recent.”

“If it’s recent then I don’t doubt my dear Cabbage was the one to do it. He was never one to go quietly.” 

He hopes that doesn’t mean that Ragnor is dead. Valentine is crazy enough to kill powerful assets if they make him angry enough. He tried to kill his own parabatai, for Lilith’s sake. It doesn’t get more narcissistic than that. 

“Well then let’s get moving. Mom only gave us a few hours to stop Valentine and save the Downworlders before the Gard shows up. Everyone remember the plan?” Isabelle asks.

“Shadowhunters go after Valentine, Downworlder goes to save Downworlders,” Jace states in the most caveman-like way. “Though are you sure you want to go alone, Magnus?”

Magnus blinks twice at Jace. Not once in the few weeks they’ve worked together has he asked if Magnus needs help. It was either Jace doing whatever he wanted to do or Magnus telling him to back off or he’ll get hexed. Seems that Clary has been good to him, cracking that hardened shell around his heart since Alec died.

Speaking of Asher, Magnus hopes he’s safe. Magnus texted the man their plans so that he could avoid the awkward family reunion. Last thing he needs is for Jace and Isabelle to go off-script and potentially make this rescue mission a failure. It’s not Magnus’ place to do that anyway. Asher told him he didn’t want his family to know he was alive and he will respect that.

“Hide!” Jace whispers, pulling Magnus by the arm behind some crates. 

Magnus makes a small magic window to show them two people who look like guards doing rounds around the dock in front of the ship. Easy enough to take out and not get noticed. There are more crates off to their right that they could use as a distraction.

He nudges Jace and gestures over to the spot. The Shadowhunter seems to pick up on what he’s not saying and nudges his sister. The two share a look before shuffling their way over.

“I wish I could do that,” Clary sighs. “They’re just so in sync with each other. One time they made me train in a warehouse with the rule to not speak and I failed seven times.”

“It’s okay, Biscuit. I’m sure you’ll get there eventually,” Magnus sympathizes. “You have to realize that Jace and Isabelle have been training since they were kids on how to be a proper Shadowhunter. You’ve had about what? A month?”

“I know but just the way they talk about their childhood. About Alec and how he always made sure they knew that failure was okay as long as you learned and improved from it.” Clary had a wistful look in her eyes. Magnus knows what it’s like being an only child and not growing up with siblings. He’s happy that no one else had to go through what he did, but there are moments when he wishes he had a brother or sister to be there with him.

“Do they talk about Alec a lot?” Magnus asks. He watches Jace boost Isabelle up to a higher ground leading to a catwalk.

“Jace won’t stop talking about him,” Clary chuckles. She straightens up and puts on a serious face. “Alec was the best archer of our time, no one could do what he did with a bow, not even our ancestors. If you want to be a good Shadowhunter, you have to be how Alec was. Did you know Alec was the person who designed our training? He has a book written about the proper ways to handle and take down violent criminals.”

She sounds so much like Blondie, that Magnus can practically hear Jace’s voice. With the few times he caught Jace talking about Alec, Clary is about as accurate as she can get. 

“I wish I met him,” Clary says. “He sounds like he was a pretty great guy. I know Jace would do anything to go back and change how he treated Alec.”

Magnus looks over to Jace who is playing bait while Isabelle gets the drop on the men. I guess layers are just a Lightwood trait. He can see why Asher and Jace were parabatai even if Asher felt like he wasn’t appreciated in the relationship. 

“I’m glad Jace is talking about him with you. He almost killed me when I asked.” He subconsciously rubs a hand against his throat. “Granted,I was asking about him only a year after the tragedy happened and the wound was clearly still fresh.”

Their small conversation was interrupted by the sound of a shout and two bodies falling to the ground. Magnus winces as he watches Isabelle and Jace drag the hopefully unconscious men to a dark corner of the dock. He doesn’t think they would kill them, but he also knows that the Lightwood siblings have had enough of Valentine and his men. 

Clary and Magnus come out from hiding and meet the two at the walkway to the boat.

“Ready or not, here we go,” Magnus says.

Asher leans in the shadows, bow tight in his hand,  as another Circle member walks by, not noticing him. He knows he’s been out of the game for years now, but it’s hilarious how even dangerous minions such as these haven’t noticed him. When Asher saw the men leave Ragnor’s house after their stakeout, he trailed behind. They finally realized that Magnus was not stupid enough to come back to the place Magnus and Ragnor were attacked. 

He sent a silent apology to Magnus after he told the man that he wasn’t going to get himself into danger because here he is. On a rusty ship, hiding from men who are more powerful than him. Then again, his parents were always hard on him about training. He made the most of it and practiced everything he could. Even sneaking through the Institute without the help of runes. Who knew that silly challenge would come in handy?

He slinks his way down the hallway. So far, no sign of the missing Downworlders or Ragnor. If he has to guess, they are probably in the hull away from easy exits. If Valentine didn’t want his prisoners to escape easily, he would surround them with walls of water. Make it harder to leave if a person tries to destroy the wall and water comes rushing in.

“How much longer are we going to be stuck in this decrepit ship?” A Circle member grumbles. 

Asher darts behind some old hanging fishnet as two men walk by, engaged in conversation.

“Until Valentine gives us the green light to attack,” the other man answers.

“It’s been years, Emil,” he whines. “At this point I am going to get scurvy. Valentine has been biding his time on this for no reason. We could easily take over the New York Institute and the City of Bones in a matter of seconds.”

“Bite your tongue, Jeremy,” Emil warns. “If Valentine or his guards hear that kind of talk he’ll feed you to that vampire we have downstairs.”

Confirmation of the Downworlders’ whereabouts. Asher will have to start looking for a way down once these two pass.

“Come on Emil, we have that warlock now!” Jeremy exclaims. “We have everything we need to break those wards and take what we want. Valentine needs to get over his wife and just take what he rightfully deserves!”

Emil smacks Jeremy on the back of the head. “Silence! You may be a Circle member now but you are still naive to Valentine’s plan! It’s not about power but showing those dumb shadowhunters who the true leader of the Nephilim is. Valentine could easily take down the Institute. Hodge practically told Valentine that Isabelle Lightwood is an easy target. The woman doesn’t know how to run that place and with a blade to the throat she’s done for.” 

The man lets out a sinister chuckle that turns Asher’s blood to ice.

“Though I would mind a taste of that body before-”

Rage blinds him and the next thing he knows he’s standing over two bloody and bruised men. One with their throat slashed and the other with an arrow through the eye. Asher’s heart practically leaps out of his chest as he catches his breath. He looks at his hand and sees a seraph blade faintly glow in his grip. He drops the sword like it burned him. He hasn’t touched one in years and the hum is still there. The siren’s call of his angelic blood sings to him to return. 

Asher has tried to shake off the feeling.

He hurries to hide the bodies in the musty fishnet. He curses himself for letting his emotion for his sister take over. He hopes that no one will notice the two men missing before Magnus and the others show up. Once the bodies are not visible from the path, he pulls out his phone to see if Magnus sent him an update. The screen of his phone glitches and shuts off. He lets out a sigh as he fails to turn the phone back on. 

So much for that backup.

Asher continues his way through the ship and finds his first set of stairs down. The magic that surrounds the ship vibrates against his skin the lower he goes. Valentine must have a powerful ward locking the Downworlders in. It’s not like he has an Institute with an angelic core in his arsenal. 

The lower levels are not as lit as above. Asher wishes he had brought a flashlight with him. A tiny part of his brain is saying he could use a witchlight off one of the bodies upstairs. He navigates his way through the narrow passages, every now and then bumping into the metal framework.

He pauses, tilting his head to get a better ear to the floor above. Shouts and feet stomp above him. He hopes that means that Magnus has arrived and not that they found those men's bodies. He makes haste to find the missing Downworlders. 

The hairs on his arm start to rise as he gets to the last door he hasn’t checked. The light is dim but he makes out faint runes on the door, some he’s never seen. He wonders if Valentine was able to create new runes but upon closer inspection, he realizes that it's warlock runes. He doesn’t recognize the signature but it looks like it was forcefully drawn. Whatever Valentine is doing to these Downworlders, it is not of free will. 

He tries to touch the door and an invisible shield sends him backward. His head slams against the metal floor and pain laces up his spine. He lies on the floor staring at the ceiling wondering where he went wrong in the last four years that he finds himself on a ship run by shadowhunters that were meant to be disbanded over twenty years ago. 

He lets out a groan as he gets up from the floor. Okay, so the door is sealed with magic. Surely he can figure out a way around it. He is a shadowhunter in his prime years by Nephilim standards. He looks around the surrounding area to see if there is anything he can use. 

He lets out a snort as he spots a harpoon leaning against the wall. He wonders if they actually did fish on this boat or if they stole the boat and never got rid of the junk lying around it. The device is old, rusting around the steel tip, but it will have to do. 

The noise from above is getting louder which means his window to save his friend is getting smaller and smaller. He grips the harpoon in both hands and prepares to strike it at the runed door. If he can scratch just one sigil the whole spell will break. He hopes his back will survive another hit. 

Just as he prepares to strike, feet shuffle behind him. With quick movements, he ducks and swipes a leg backward causing whoever it is to stumble. Asher doesn’t hesitate as he comes up and grabs the person’s arm and flings them over his shoulder. The man lets out a wheeze as air leaves his lungs and Asher looms over the man, knee to the neck.

“If I wasn’t in so much pain I would find that move incredibly attractive,” Magnus chokes below him. 

“Magnus?” Asher squeaks out and immediately gets off the warlock. Guilt washes over him as he helps the man to sit up, his arm coming around Magnus’ back to support him while he gets air back into his lungs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No no, that’s on me. I shouldn’t have snuck up on a Shadowhunter.”

“Not a Shadowhunter.” The words fall from his mouth faster than his brain catches up. He had to say that a lot in the first months after he went to Ireland. 

Ragnor would complain about having to do labor while Asher was fine to do it all himself. Ragnor would grumble that it's because of his Shadowhunter strength and Asher would have to constantly remind him that he wasn’t one anymore. 

“Right, sorry,” Magnus says and Asher feels even more guilty for making Magnus feel he did something wrong. “So, something wrong with the door?”

“Yeah.” Asher stands up and pulls Magnus up with ease.

“Well, you may not be a Shadowhunter anymore but that angelic blood in you is still as strong as ever,” Magnus comments. “You lifted me like I was a bag of feathers.”

“I work on a farm, lifting heavy things comes with the territory,” Asher scoffs.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Magnus pats his shoulder and makes his way to the door.

Asher glares at the back of Magnus’ head as he heads over to look over the runes. He doesn’t let the jab dig at him too much as he watches Magnus destroy the sigil with ease. The metal door creaks and groans loudly as Magnus opens it. 

Magnus looks back at Asher with a cheshire grin and gestures for him to enter. Asher mumbles a thanks as he passes the warlock. 

“Are the others going after Valentine?” Asher asks.

“They should be. Blondie made quite the commotion when he was spotted on board. Hopefully, that means the men on this boat will be distracted for a while,” Magnus answers. He summons a small ball of light to illuminate the stairs in front of them.

“That’s good.”

“Indeed, now let us find our friend and the others.”

Asher doesn’t know why dread fills his stomach the lower they go. That humming from before is gone since Magnus removed the wards on the door. He takes his bow into his hand and the other rests above the quiver on his hip. He knows that these Downworlders are probably terrified and scared but that doesn’t mean they won’t see him as a threat. 

He glances over at Magnus and sees the same feeling in the warlock’s eyes. There’s a faint shimmer of hope but, at the same time, Magnus is aware of what Valentine is capable of. Asher has the sudden urge to hold the man’s hand and reassure him that it will be okay. That he’ll help in any way that he can to save these Downworlders.

“Wait,” Magnus says, putting a hand on Asher’s chest. Asher ignores the way the hand roams for a fraction of a second. 

Magnus pushes the orb of light forward and waves his hand. The ball grows in size and illuminates the room, and Asher feels sick.

There have to be about half a dozen cages in the room. The shadows from the cages highlight a person in each cage. They look sickly, black oozes dripping from their body like a bucket of tar was tossed over them. They have no reaction to the light; they just sit facing forward like awaiting a command.

“Dammit,” Magnus says, waving his hand to send a fire message to someone. “This is bad. Isabelle warned me that this might be the case.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Asher slowly approaches the cage of a Downworlder that looks to be a werewolf. Their eyes flash every so often and a deep low rumble resonates from their form. Asher waves a hand at the werewolf, but there’s no reaction.

“Some sort of twisted experiment that Valentine cooked up. He may hate us but he also finds us useful for things.” Magnus gets to unlocking the cages but not entering in case one decides to attack. 

Asher leaves Magnus to that and checks on the other downworlders in the room. Each is the same until he gets to the last one. 

“Ragnor,” Asher breathes out. 

His friend is on the floor, looking to be passed out. Just outside his cage is a destroyed ceiling, probably the same damage he saw from outside. Asher can’t help but smile knowing that Ragnor fought to the very end of his capture. From this angle, he can’t see if Ragnor has the same ooze as the others.

He gets to work on the cage, breaking the lock with an arrow. It falls to the ground loudly and Asher winces. He looks around and no one seems to notice but Magnus, who only raises an eyebrow at him before getting back to work.

Asher flings open the door and rushes to his friend.

“Ragnor,” he says, kneeling next to him. 

He rolls the man on his back and lets out a sigh of relief that he doesn’t seem to have been infected. The warlock’s chest rises and falls as he lies unconscious.

“Come on Ragnor, wake up.” Asher cradles the man’s face in his hands, gently moving his head in hopes of gently waking him up. Last thing he wants is to injure his back more by waking Ragnor up abruptly and being attacked by a man who is only defending himself from what he thinks is a threat. 

The sound of a portal opening behind him has him turning. A woman dressed in hospital scrubs comes through. Seems that whatever was on the door also got rid of the wards on the ship. 

“Take them to a safe house and start working on curing them,” Magnus tells the woman.

“What about Valentine?”

“The Shadowhunters will take care of him soon, but we need to get them out of here before the Gard finds them. Who knows what they’ll do if they find out about them.”

“Okay, help me get them through,” the woman says as she enters a cage to usher them out. Thankfully, it seems the Downworlders are okay with moving. That distant look in their eyes doesn’t go away as they go through the portal. 

“Thank you, Cat,” Magnus says.

“Just come to me when you’re done here,” Cat says before looking over at Asher. Asher sits up straighter as she gives him a once over. “And tell me about him as well.”

“Cat!” Magnus chastizes, but can’t reply as the portal closes.

Asher doesn’t know what to make of that and puts his attention back on waking up Ragnor. But when he turns to look at his friend, his eyes are open. Asher lets out a relieved laugh.

“About time you woke up,” Asher jokes. He hears Magnus approaching the cage as he helps Ragnor up into a sitting position.

“Yes, it really is,” Ragnor says, his voice sounding different. 

Before Asher can ask what he means by that. Magic finds its way around his neck. The smell of a damp forest fills his senses as Ragnor’s magic tries to kill him.

“Ragnor!” Magnus shouts but stops his approach as Asher gets slammed into the metal bars. His injured back cries out in pain as it makes contact with the hard wall.

“Do you think I'm a fool?” Ragnor growls. “First you take the form of Magnus and now you have one of your goons to look like Asher?”

“I-”

“Ragnor, you old fool, that is Asher!” Magnus explains, trying to approach, but he’s stopped when Ragnor seals the door shut. Asher hears Magnus curse, trying to open the door.

“Shut up!” Ragnor says. “Asher knows better than to come here, not when Valentine knows about him. Is this your plan? Pretend to be my friend to get me to believe they would be dumb enough to rescue me?”

“Yes,” Asher says. The fight to stay conscious is beginning to become a losing battle. “I am that stupid because I care about you.”

“Then tell me something only he would know,” Ragnor demands. “Something only he and I would know.”

Asher racks his brain trying to come up with something as he tries to stay awake. This is not the first time a warlock has tried to suffocate him but he has to remain calm, the more he struggles the tighter it will go. It’s hard to find purchase on vertical bars while your friend is trying to kill what he thinks is an imposter.

“Ragnor, please stop, you are going to kill him!” Magnus begs. Asher doesn’t think he’s ever seen Magnus look as scared as he does right now which means he probably isn’t looking good. 

Then it hits him, the only thing that he and Ragnor would know about.

“You cheated at that card game,” Asher gasps. “You didn’t even want the farmhouse but you were annoyed that the vampire wouldn’t stop talking so you used magic to win.”

Immediately the magic around his neck disappears and he falls to the ground gasping for air. Ragnor catches him before his face gets acquainted with the metal floor again. Magnus rushes into the cage, magic at the ready, and begins to heal his neck which has already started to bruise.

“Bloody hell, I could have killed you!” Ragnor scolds, helping him sit up. “What the hell are you doing here!”

“Saving you!” Asher wheezes out. “You literally threw your best friend into my living room making me assume you were dead only to find out that you were kidnapped by a maniac. Of course, I was going to help!”

���Asher, stop talking,” Magnus scolds as he continues to heal his neck. 

“Thought I taught you better than this,” Ragnor rants. 

“Says the man who didn’t go through the portal with his friend and instead decided to get kidnapped,” Asher bites back. 

“I had to make sure that Valentine didn’t get the Book of White,” Ragnor defends. “It was the only way to make sure it was safe.”

“Even I know that’s a weak excuse,” Magnus mumbles, looking at Asher with concern. The healing magic makes its way down Asher’s back. The ache from his mishap slowly ebbs away. He sends Magnus a silent thank you and Magnus smiles back.

“Magnus, do shut up,” Ragnor snarks. “Can you stand, Asher?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Could have done without you attacking me but can’t win them all.” The joke seems to fall flat as Ragnor looks seconds away from crying, something he rarely does. He lets the two warlocks pull him up, he stumbles for a moment before regaining his balance. He feels Ragnor snake an arm around his back and he gladly takes the support.

“Is everyone okay?” Asher asks Magnus as they make their way to the exit.

“My friend Cat is one of the best healing warlocks in the city, even the world if I had a say. An old acquaintance of mine made a cure so she and Cat are going to make sure everyone is no longer dripping in that nasty stuff, whatever it is.” 

The way Magnus looks at the remaining gunk on the floor gets a small laugh out of him. Asher watches how Magnus’ face lights up at the response and flashes his smile. He feels his body flush at the sight of it again. If he thought he had it bad after Magnus crashed into his living room, he’s a goner now. Granted he’s been this way since he almost shot the man when he first came to the farmhouse. 

He was terrified when Magnus passed out. So many thoughts had been racing in his head. The way Magnus had called out for Ragnor to the poison that he saw infecting Magnus’ body, it didn’t leave much time to process anything. He never told Magnus that he was in a delirious state as he was applying the cure to him. After carrying Magnus to the guest room and rushing to find the antidote in the medicine closet, he came back to an awakened Magnus whom he thought was somewhat okay— and then Magnus started talking.

The compliments that poured out of that man’s mouth were something Asher had never experienced before. He didn’t even realize hands could be attractive until Magnus wouldn’t stop talking about his hands. It’s really hard to dress a wound when the injured party keeps trying to take his hand to kiss it. 

Asher had stared at his hands for a long time after Magnus finally fell asleep before thoughts of Ragnor took over. He then spent the last two hours before Magnus woke up spiraling into ‘what ifs’ to the point where he went to grab one of Ragnor’s ascots and tried to track him, desperate to try anything that would work. He ended up just fiddling with the cloth until Magnus almost launched himself out of the bed.

From then on, Asher looked at Magnus differently. Not that man seemed to notice even with Asher making them dinner and discussing their plan to return to New York. Besides, it’s too dangerous for them to even know each other. Not with Magnus’ relationship with his siblings, it would be a recipe for disaster.  

“You would try to make light of a serious situation,” Ragnor grumbles.

“Can you blame me? You’re lucky I got here before they did anything to you,” Magnus teases. “It would have gotten all over your vintage clothes.”

“Do you see that burnt hole in the wall?” Ragnor says, pointing back at the cage he was in. “They tried to inject me with those gross chemicals and failed to realize I was no young warlock.”

“So you almost sank the ship?” Asher laughs, though it sounds more on the manic side. “You could have killed everyone!”

“I fixed it!” Ragnor exclaims. “Honestly, you two think I can’t handle myself? Surely you’ve seen-”

“Magnus!” An unfamiliar voice shouts from the top of the stairs. Asher freezes, as does she, when they make eye contact. Orange hair past her shoulders, twin blades in her hands. Her eyes widen at the sight of him as they flicker with recognition, but that’s not possible as he’s never met her before. 

“By the Angel, you’re-.” She doesn’t finish her sentence as the smell of firewood consumes the air around him and blue magic strikes the young woman. She doesn’t have time to counter, the magic freezing her as she raises her arms to block the spell.

“Magnus! What did you do?” Ragnor asks.

“She knows who Alec is!” Magnus defends. A chill goes down Asher’s spine at that statement. “Jace hasn’t stopped talking to her about him and I am pretty sure he’s shown her pictures of you. So you two need to leave now!”

“Magnus, will she-” Asher shakily starts but his heart is beating out of his chest. He can’t take his eyes off of her.

That woman saw him, if she gets back to Jace she’s going to tell him that his dead parabatai is actually alive. He wouldn’t put it past Jace to start a manhunt around the globe to find him. He would do anything to get to Asher, even if it meant hurting those that Asher cared about.

A hand laces his and he looks over to see Magnus staring at him with worry. 

“I’ll make sure that she thinks she saw something wrong, she doesn’t even know she’s frozen right now,” Magnus reassures, squeezing his hand. “You two should get out of here, I don’t doubt that Jace would be far behind if Clary went off on her own.”

“But what about-.”

“You heard the man, Asher.” Ragnor starts pulling him away, the arm around his waist is firm. “Let the High Warlock do what he does best: charming Shadowhunters.”

Asher can’t tell if that’s a dig at him or not. Judging by the smirk on his face, that’s exactly what he meant. A portal opens behind them and Ragnor ushers him through, but not before he turns around.

“Magnus!” The warlock turns at the call of his name. “Stop by the farm once you’re done with everything. I’d love to have you over for dinner.”

[sarcasticsweetlara]

Midnight Memories

Jocelyn x Aemon

Warning: Targcest, heavy make out

Part II of Admiration

Summary: Jocelyn and Aemon address the attraction between them.

Rolling over her bed Jocelyn harshly removed the bedsheets from her body.

Sleep had been evading since a week ago.

And even though she tried to sleep she couldn't and she knew why.

She couldn't help but think about Aemon.

Alysanne had told her one week ago that Jaehaerys and her were looking for lords who would be good suitors for her and dignified enough for a lady with both the blood of Old Valyria and the Storm Kings.

"We will find the perfect match for you Jocelyn, don't worry." Had said Jaehaerys.

But she didn't want one of those suitors.

She was sure she wanted Aemon.

Ever since they were kids they were close, and with time her feelings evolved and she often basked in the sight of Aemon training or doing something for her.

But yet she didn't know if Aemon felt the same for her.

Groaning, she got up from the bed and looked for the robe near her door and once she placed it on her body she ventured out.

It was not the first time she got up to walk in the middle of the night, she had done it may times before.

With her iridescent lantern she was strolling through the corridors, tracing the heraldry in the walls and looking at the fireflies.

"What are you doing here late at night Jocelyn?"

A voice startled her almost making her drop the lantern.

"Aemon!" She yelled

"You scared me!" She regained her composure as she took a breath.

"You know, I could ask you the same."

"Well, I guess I like to look at the fireflies, and you?"

"I" Jocelyn took a minute to look at the fireflies too.

"I couldn't sleep, and I thought a night walk could help me."

"I see, sleep come to us after we calm ourselves." He nodded.

They remained there, looking at the fireflies, each of them didn't say anything as they didn't want to ruin the moment.

"I always thought fireflies are wonderful, how they light the darkness."

"They are beautiful."

They got back to the silence but Jocelyn now felt uneasy, she never liked the feeling that she was hiding something from Aemon.

"Jaehaerys and Alysanne are trying to find a husband for me."

That now had hid attention and Aemon tilted his head to look at Jocelyn.

"They what?"

"They said I am of age and that they will make sure they will find someone who is worthy of me."

"None of those lords will ever be enough for you Jocelyn." Aemon said seriously.

"What are you saying?"

Aemon had a stern expression but his pale lilac eyes never failed to look at her with kindness.

"You have the blood of the Storm Kings through Argella Durrandon, a woman who never lost her strength, you are the great-granddaughter of Orys Baratheon, Aegon the Conqueror's brother, and you are the daughter of Alyssa Velaryon, someone with the will of the sea, the mountains and iron." Jocelyn slowly got close to Aemon as he talked.

"You deserve more than that."

"And what do you know Aemon? Will you stand before them? You are the rider of Caraxes and you love making tricks with fire, will you fight with perzys ānogār (fire and blood) for me?"

"I would go back to Old Valyria for you Jocelyn."

And then Aemon's lips were over Jocelyn's.

His lips were soft and sweet, Jocelyn thought, while Aemon was euphoric as he felt Jocelyn's salty and bittersweet lips that reminded him of the fruits of Dragonstone.

Aemon breathed Jocelyn out as he devoured her, nipping her lower lip and she placed her hands over his shoulders pulling him closer as she pushed her tongue against his.

Their lips chased each other with passion, their tongues clashing as they caressed their lips and the air they were breathing was now mingled.

They poured their feelings over the kiss, years of hiding how they felt were now being compensated.

They pulled out as they caught their breath but were still close as their chests heaved against each other.

"If you go back to Old Valyria then keep in mind that I will follow you, I will always be by your side." Jocelyn whispered to his lips.

"Then you won't mind if I tell you I want you to be my wife." Aemon pecked her lips and stared into her beautiful dark brown eyes.

"It will be a pleasure." Jocelyn smirked and Aemon chuckled.

This would be a memory they would always remember, how they came to be.

[meowkid1000]

Girl help I just finished season two of Sex Lives Of College Girls and no one in my life cares about it but me and I care So Much Rn

first off, starting with the fact I Never binge shows unless I really really really like them, j finished two seasons in 2.5 days. I watched all of season one two days ago, season 2 ep 1-7 yesterday, and I just finished the last few eps today.

Season 1&2 Spoilers ahead!! I’m not going to be articulate about this whatsoever

😭 ok so I just love how they did the characters?? And not just the main four roommates but like the side characters and the ones we don’t see that often?? I didn’t get the main characters names down till like. After I finished the first season, leighton kept eluding me! But like. I still loved them all, and I love how in the second season we got to see more of the side characters relationships to the main characters that they weren’t originally friends with?? Like Jocelyn being friends with everybody and I love how they did Canaan as Kimberly’s coworker first and then Whitney got with him (and then they broke up which I didn’t really care about then but now that kimbers with him I’m like BESTIE WTF ARE TOU DOING) and also I loved getting to see more of lila!!! I also like that the main characters do something shitty and then people are mad at them! Except the theta frat was weird at the beginning of season 2 to me?? Ik they held the fundraiser but also like a strip show fundraiser doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that would be very good? And then the lady who came in who was like wtf forgave them too early to me but eh. But like bela being kinda a bitch to jorja? And that on top of bela not telling the journalist to do the group photo and editing the article, of course it makes sense the foxy wouldn’t want her to stay! She does love comedy but also she’s a little selfish!!!

also I love how they did leightons character, she’s like a popular bitch but also closet lesbian but then she meets The Gays tm and she comes out and people accept her and she doesn’t have to change who she is like she’s terrified of but also she does because she learns it’s okay!! And there’s injustice in the world and not everyone liked The Gays tm like when she was sticking up for people at the kappa thing!! And she had Very Internalized Homophobia and said fuck a lot at the beginning which was funky. I hope she gets to talk to her highschool friends again, it would be interesting I think to see in season three if they reconcile and or reconnect after her coming out, because that was a lot of the strain on their relationship as a trio iirc, they said they felt like they didn’t know her and that she was hiding smth all the time.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of Whitney with her coach, but I’m really glad she made up with Jena and then the coach got fired for being a creep! And her mom started laying off a little in the second season which I liked. I think her and Canaan made more sense than Canaan and Kimberly and I’m still kinda mad at Kimberly for that, because Jackson was RIGHT THERE but oK, but also Whitney didn’t tell Kimberly that she was going to try to make things work with canaan or something but also canaan and Kimberly are coworkers n shit like Lila said and girl code n shit like not dating exes so. Crazy stuff ig, I love Kimberly to death but she’s gotta stop whoring around /j

Kimberly and Nico were kinda cute tho!! Except that Nico had a girlfriend and didn’t tell her, that was not cool at all. I’m glad Leighton got pissed at him for not only cheating on her friend maya but also with her roommate kimber. I feel like I relate to much to Kimberly’s attitude towards like. Life generally but also she makes me mad sometimes. I think her and Jackson were going really well!!! They understood they were different but he was more than happy to be involved in her interests, but noooo!! She saw her coworker in a different light for a night and went ❤️🫦❤️ in 0.2 seconds!!! Bitch no u had a boyfriend!!!! Plus she Knows going for Canaan is a bad deal!!!!!!

I really liked bela too, and I’m glad that she’s getting consequences. I wish that she yk. Didn’t cheat on Eric with the comedian. Glad she remembers Eric existed, but also damn girl 1.8 gpa?? And also she wants to transfer?? Girlie that’s running from your problems!!! And also your roommates who love you very much!!! Although the whole ryan thing fucking sucked, she had a bit of a feminist arc in helping start the foxy but girlie no

anyways this probably didn’t make sense, thank you for reading this far if anyone did, and if you haven’t already go watch sex lives of college girls <3 I really liked it and as a current freshman in college I would like to say their fictional lives are very different from my own and had a fun time watching their drama