#shadowhunters caps

[cepheusgalaxy]

OMG I CMPLETELY FORGOT

SHOUT FUCKING OUT TO RAPHAEL SANTIAGO FROM THE SHADOWHUNTER CRONICS/THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS ON THIS VERY FINE DAY

[wikitpowers]

I saw your recent post about your imienin, I hope it's been great :) Wszystkiego najlepsego z okazji imienin!

OH MY GOSH WHEN I TELL U I WAS SO TAKEN ABACK READING THIS LIKE I WAS SO CONFUSED AHAHHAHA!!!! BUT THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER TYSM, IT MEANS A LOT <3

AND YES MY IMIENINY HAVE BEEN FREAKING ~FIRE~ LIKE I WOKE UP AND GOT TLKOF CHAPTER, JACE'S REPLY TO KIT, MY TMI GRAPHIC NOVEL ARRIVED AND I JUST REALLY HAD A SUPER WHOLESOME AND NICE DAY :)

[cassandraclare]

q&a

Alexa: Will we ever get to hear about Tessa's time in the Spiral Labyrinth? I think that would be so cool. 2) Why does Jem always say that the Carstairs owe the Herondales? I know that Jem feels that Will saved him when he was a child, but Jem saved will just as much as Will saved Jem. I'm curious if you have any more thoughts on that, like if it is just part of Jem's personality that he feels so keenly that he owes Will.

Sure, Jem saved Will just like Will saved Jem, but that isn't going to make Jem feel like he owes Will less, because indeed, that's not his personality (or Will's — Will would say the Herondales owe the Carstairs.) For Jem, this is a very pure feeling, that he will always owe this debt to Will and to the Herondales, and even though he wouldn't deny he also saved Will, he wouldn't qualify the statement — "The Carstairs owe the Herondales, though, you know, the Herondales also owe the Carstairs and so it's basically even but I'd still like to help out" because it would undercut the strength of his conviction. None of that means he doesn't know he did a lot for Will and Will's family too! As to whether there's more to Jem's belief that the Carstairs owe the Herondales than the obvious, we will have to see.

Anonymous:  THE SHADOWHUNTER CHRONICLES. I SEE YOU HAVE WICKED POWERS IN THE WORKS (NOT SOON ENOUGH).... FOLLOWING KIT HERONDALE AFTER 2012 ERA BUT HERES MY QUESTION.... YOU HAVE ALL THIS GAP BETWEEN THE LAST HOURS SET IN 1900S UNTIL THE 2000S WITH THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS. WE, AS FANS DO NOT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE CARSTAIRS ETC, SUCH AS AFTER CHAIN OF THORNS.... ...... YOU HAVE MANY MANY MANY GAPS HERE TO BE TRYING TO END THE SERIES..... SOOOO MANY UNANSWERED QUESTIONS WITH THE CHARACTERS. (AND YES IVE READ EVERY SINGLE BOOK).

Ack, the caps! Hello, friend. It is true that not every moment of every day of every decade has been described in a series, but that is fairly normal! We don't know exactly what transpires between Last Hours and Mortal Instruments (though we have many hints in the various short story collections, especially where it comes to the time of the Circle) — nor do we know what, for instance, was happening in the New York Institute during The Infernal Devices. With a big universe, you're never going to know what's happening in every place at every time. There will always be gaps; it's neither a bug nor a feature, more a natural consequence of the format.

I totally understand being like, "The Shadowhunter world cannot end with Wicked Powers, there are more stories to tell" but — whenever it all ended — there would always be more stories to tell.

princeash asked:

Hi Cassie!! So excited by the announcement! My question is, are we getting a Ash pov in tlkof?and could we maybe get a snippet of him 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 (also, I'm very happy about finally getting a release date and i dont mind waiting because i know you'll make it worth the wait!! 🤎)

Hello! We are not getting Ash's POV in TLKOF, unless something major changes. Ash is a bit of a mysterious figure for quite a while. Figuring out what makes him tick and what he's really up to is part of the fun. Also I'm working on not overwhelming people with so many POVs. :)

[soleilceirinen]

When the darkness comes (Thomas Shelby x Shadowhunter!Reader) - Part 1

Summary: you are a shadowhunter investigating the sudden rise of yin fen in the Downworld, the trail leads you to Small Heath and a blue eyed gangster.

A/N: I'm obsessed with Cillian Murphy, it's a fact. I also have an obsession with Shadowhunters (the books, especially The Infernal Devices). I had this idea in my head for a while so I said, why not? I don't think it's necessary to have read the books to understand the fic, although it probably helps. Also, it may not be accurate with the timeline of the series but honestly, I don't care.

(I just wanted to share my obsession, I think when Cillian was young he looked like Will Herondale in The Infernal Devices and now that he's older he looks like Will in The Last Hours. He is described with high cheekbones, full lips, blue eyes, dark hair... in my mind Cillian is Will).

English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

MASTERLIST - PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST - Part 2

During the past few months, the use of a drug called yin fen had grown exponentially among the inhabitants of the Downworld. The head of the London Institute trusted you enough to put you in charge of the investigation into who was bringing it to England, and worse yet, who was exporting it to America. You were committed to finding out, no matter what it would cost.

Those most affected by its consumption were werewolves, which was expected and somehow broke your heart since you were quite fond of the species. But that was not the end of it, at some point mundanes had discovered the silver drug and had begun to consume it uncontrollably. It could never end well, as a nephilim you had to put an end to it.

After spending the last two weeks busy with the investigation of the shipments, you had finally found a trail that led you to a place called Small Heath.

-

You had heard many names, the most repeated ones had been the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders. Above all of them, the most frequent was Thomas Shelby. The people you talked to for information seemed to be afraid to even say his name out loud, some of them refused to answer your questions but others went so far as to describe him as the devil himself. 

That made you worry. What if that man was a demon? It was a possibility, in that case you should notify the Enclave immediately but first, you needed to be completely sure of it.

It had been raining all day so when the afternoon came, you realised that it was not going to stop anytime soon. You stretched your back and got up from the small table where you had been sitting for hours now. It was cluttered with documents and information about The Shelby Company Limited and its members. You took a quick look at the one-bedroom apartment you had rented, it was a mess. Shrugging, you approached the armchair where you had left your shadowhunter gear in the morning and started getting ready to go outside. Maybe in the Garrison you could find more clues.

You had a glamour on, which meant that you were invisible to the mundane eye. You had also marked yourself with a rune of stealth, so you moved in complete silence. Walking around the interior of the pub and carefully observing the customers, you sighed tiredly. There was nothing suspicious.

You left the pub and took shelter from the rain at the entrance. When you first heard about the Garrison, you hoped it would be some kind of Downworlder lair but you only found a bunch of drunk mundanes. Not even one werewolf or a fairy barmaid. 

Two young men came out of the pub too and stood next to you while smoking and talking in a low voice, neither of them noticed your presence. 

"You should try it," one of them said. The other shook his head, letting out a puff of smoke. "Why not, Isaiah? It's better than Tokyo..."

The tallest one, Isaiah, threw his cigarette on the ground and adjusted his cap. "I don’t know, Finn. I've heard things, none of them good." 

“Nonsense,” scoffed the first one. 

Finn's name was familiar to you, if you remembered correctly, he was one of the members of the Shelby family. Although the possibility of him not being the same one was there, their conversation had caught your attention. They could be talking about any other drug but something deep inside told you that you were in the right place. 

As far as you knew, the effect of yin fen in humans was similar to that of cocaine, it was a strong stimulant. You examined the boys, looking for any sign that could tell you that they were addicted to the drug but they looked good with their tailored suits and freshly cut hair. In general, they seemed healthy.

It was very noticeable when someone was a yin fen addict. The drug used to drain the person’s colour, leaving a silver coloration in their skin, hair and eyes, as its name indicated: silver powder.

"They're coming," Finn said, pointing down the street with his lit cigarette. 

Looking in said direction, you saw a group of men dressed just like the two boys, with nice tailored suits and caps, approaching the Garrison. As they came closer, you moved to the side to let them pass. Despite being invisible due to the glamour, you were still very tangible. They passed by, ignoring you as you were expecting. One of them, a tall man with a moustache, hugged Finn enthusiastically, laughing and gesturing for them to enter the pub.

You watched as they got in, unaware of the pair of blue eyes that were staring at your figure. The man didn’t even blink when you looked back at him. 

He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept in days, almost like a vampire. He could have been one except for the fact that he was holding an almost finished cigarette in his hand, and it was well known that vampires avoided fire as much as possible since they could burn like paper. With each drag he took on the cigarette, the tip of it lit up like a small orange eye in the rain. 

His blue eyes roamed your body up and down, he then raised an eyebrow at your appearance. You were dressed all in black like most shadowhunters did, with your hair tied in a braid and the tip of two seraph blades protruding over your shoulders. You carried more weapons, but these were not visible to the man. 

He could see you.

It made your heart pound in your chest with anticipation. You stared back at him in silence, hesitating about whether you should talk to him or get ready to fight him.

You could not do one thing or the other, because at that moment, the man with the moustache came out of the pub and put his arm over the man who was staring at you. “Tommy! Come in, we’re waiting for you. What are you doing here in this rain? You’re soaked…”

Tommy as in...Thomas Shelby? 

Tommy nodded towards you. The other man looked at your direction, it caused you the same feeling as always when someone looked at you while wearing a glamour, as if instead of seeing you, he saw through you.

"What is it, brother?" he wondered, winking his eyes in a vain attempt to see something.

Tommy looked from you to the other man with a confused expression. You remained silent. He dropped the rest of his cigarette to a puddle and ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. After one last glance in your direction, he turned and lightly pushed his brother towards the pub. 

"I think I'm seeing spirits like Polly, Arthur," he muttered in a hoarse voice while they walked away.

The last thing you heard before they disappeared behind the doors of the Garrison was Arthur's muffled laughter.

[lurafita]

Make it random!

Found a generator online that randomly matched given characters to given species. Now I have:

Magnus: Shadowhunter

Alec: Higher demon/prince of hell

Jace: Seelie

Izzy: Angel

Clary: Werewolf

Simon: Vampire (lol)

Raphael: Vampire (okay...)

Catarina: Vampire (is this thing broken?)

Ragnor: Mundane

Maia: Mundane

Luke: Warlock (finally got a warlock in the mix)

okay, I will cap it here for now, other characters can be assigned later if need be.

uff. this is surprisingly hard.

Magnus is the only shadowhunter.

Alec as a higher demon has potential, not gonna lie.

Seelie Jace. hmmm. and Izzy an angel. Then there could still be a sibling relationship between her and alec, actually. Alec is simply a fallen angel. Izzy didn't fall because she still follows the doctrine. though she might fall as the plot progresses.

Clary as a werewolf. Guess that is easy enough. She could be a mundane that had an encounter with a rogue werewolf, and Magnus found/saved her. Not knowing whether or not she will turn, he can't take her to a hospital. If she needed medical attention, he would probably take her to the institute, where they could also monitor if she changes, dies, or remains mundane. after the change, he can get her to the nearest wolf clan and inform them of the rogue that got her.

simon could also start out as a mundane, maybe he was even with clary when she was bitten and Magnus had to take him along as well. as both simon and clary then want to learn more about the shadow world, simon lands himself on the business end of a pair of vamp fangs. (could be Camille)

Raphael and Catarina could have history. Catarina could be leader of the clan! maybe she was the one who turned raphael in a bit to save his life.

Ragnor could be like a mundane university professor who is well versed in obscured knowledge and the history of mysterious stuff. Maybe Magnus is enrolled in one of his classes, because he has discovered that some of the mundane knowledge about all that goes bump in the dark can be surprinsgly helpful

Maia... I don't know yet.

Luke could be the high warlock of the territory.

okay, how to bring higher demon/prince of hell Alec into the mix.

obviously there would have to be some kind of summoning.

or alec himself decided to visit the mundane plain for a bit, because why not?

and maybe he just happens to witness the shadowhunter that is so uniquely dressed for his kind, fighting off demons, or that rogue werewolf, or whatever. and he takes a shine to him

[x-ceirios-x]

my shadowhunters-themed graduation cap, inspired by the wonderful @cassandraclare

I started reading the mortal instruments when I was thirteen, and now turning eighteen recently and getting back into it, I remembered how important of a part it’s been in my life. These stories and these characters got me through dark times that I didn’t know my way out of and helped me make friendships that I still cherish to this day.

I don’t know if I will ever be confident like Isabelle, brave like Jace, clever like Clary, witty like Simon, loving as Magnus, or as true to myself as Alec shows he learned to be, time and time again. The world is scary but these books make it just a little bit brighter.

happy pride & congrats to any other recent grads!

[soulofapatrick]

Heart’s Desire 1/2 - Simon Lewis x female reader

Summary: What if it's you, Clary and Simon who visit the Seelie realm, Simon having to pick

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: angst; fluff

Notes: There might be a part two im not sure yet

Y/N’s POV

Plunging into the icy depths of the winter water in Central Park was not on my bucket list of things to do today. Or to do ever actually but here we are, me Simon and Clary, jumping into the water like it’s an everyday occurrence. The shock of the cold steals my breath away, the frigid embrace of the water envelopes me, numbing my senses for a fleeting moment before the adrenaline kicks in. Darkness surrounds me, broken only by the occasional glimmer of light filtering through the surface above. 

With a burst of determination, I kick against the water, propelling myself upwards with all the strength I can muster. My lungs burn with the need for air, and just as I feel like I can’t hold on any longer, I break through the surface, gasping for air. 

And suddenly, I’m not in Central Park anymore. 

As I gasp for air, blinking away the water from my eyes, I find myself in a realm unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. The shock of the transition from icy water to this new world leaves me momentarily disoriented, but as I take in my surroundings, awe washes over me. 

The Seelie Realm stretches out before us, transformed by a blanket of pristine white snow. Everywhere I look, snow capped trees tower majestically, their branches adorned with delicate icicles that shimmer in the soft light. The air is crisp and clean, carry with it the scent of pine and magic, and the ground beneath our feet is soft with freshly fallen snow. 

Simon and Clary emerge from the water beside me, their faces reflecting the same wonder and amazement that I feel. Despite the cold plunge we just took, we find ourselves miraculously dry, as if the very essence of the Seelie Realm itself has welcomed us and granted us safe passage. That should be a good thing but with the Seelie Queen and her tricks… I really don’t think so . 

Together, we make our way through the winter wonderland, our footsteps leaving a trail of imprints in the snow. As we walk, I can't help but marvel at the beauty that surrounds us—the way the sunlight filters through the trees, casting a warm golden glow on the snow-covered ground, and the way the gentle breeze carries with it the soft tinkling of bells in the distance. 

As we approach the Seelie Court, Simon and Clary walk slightly behind me, allowing me to take the lead as the envoy for our group. The crunch of snow beneath our boots is the only sound as we make our way through the enchanting forest, the anticipation of meeting the Seelie Queen hanging heavy in the air. 

Finally, we reach the grand entrance of the Seelie Court, its towering spires reaching toward the sky like fingers grasping for the stars. The doors swing open before us, revealing the opulent interior of the court, adorned with shimmering crystals and intricate vines wrapping their way around almost everything they can get their grip on.

At the centre of it all sits the Seelie Queen, her throne raised on a dais of more vines and flowers. She appears no older than a child of ten, with long scarlet hair and clear, blue eyes, wearing an intricate golden circlet for a crown. Those eyes betray a wisdom far beyond her physical years, sparkling with mischief and ancient knowledge. 

She watches us with a gaze that seems to pierce straight through our souls, her expression unreadable as we approach. The air humming with anticipation, the weight of her presence almost tangible as we come to stand before her throne. 

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the encounter, and then I bow low before the Seelie Queen, Simon and Clary following suit beside me. As I lift my gaze to meet hers, I can't help but feel a sense of awe and reverence for this powerful being who holds sway over the realm of the Seelie.

“Welcome, shadowhunters,” She says, her voice like the tinkling of bells on a winter’s breeze, “What brings you to my court on this day?” 

I straighten, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as I can muster. "We come seeking your aid, Your Majesty," I reply, my voice steady despite the nerves that flutter in my stomach. "There are matters of great importance that require your wisdom and guidance.” 

As I finish speaking, a sudden sensation of pressure grips my body, causing me to gasp in shock for the second time today. I look down to see thick vines bursting from the ground, wrapping tightly around my legs and binding them together. Panic surges through me as I struggle against the entangling tendrils, but it's no use. The vines seem to have a will of their own, their thorns digging into my skin, piercing through layers of clothing. 

A whimper escapes me as I feel my arms being trapped at my sides by more vines, leaving me completely immobilised. I glance around frantically, only to see Clary in a similar predicament, her expression of mix of fear and confusion. 

“Si…” I choke out, the vines moving slowly over my throat, the vines around Clary mimicking mine, “Help us.” 

Simon stands nearby, his bright eyes wide in shock as he watches helplessly. I can see the turmoil in his expression, the desperate desire to come to our aid warring with the fear of making a wrong move in the presence of the Seelie Queen. 

But before he can react, the Seelie Queen speaks, her voice echoing through the hall with a cold edge, “Ah, Shadowhunters,” She says, her tone dripping with amusement and too much malice for her child-like voice, “It seems you have come seeking my aid, only to find yourselves ensnared in your own folly.” 

I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling up inside me as I struggle against the vines, “What is the meaning of this?” I demand, my voice tinged with anger and desperation as my voice gets cut off by the vines tightening with barely a raise of her pinky finger. 

The Seelie Queen tilts her head, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips, “You seek my aid,” she says, her voice uncomfortably innocent for what is just happening right now, “But first, you must prove yourselves worthy of it.” 

I go to speak again but with a wave of her hand, the vines tighten their grip even more, causing me to choke out a strangled sound of pain, feeling the thorns digging deeper into my flesh, drawing blood as they hold me captive. Each breath is a struggle, the pressure around my chest threatening to cut off my air supply completely so I stop struggling. Alec wouldn’t be too happy if I died before he and Magnus could ‘claim me as their kid’ in Magnus’ words. 

Through the haze of pain, I hear Simon’s voice, pleading with the Seelie Queen to stop. His words are desperate, filled with a raw emotion that cuts through the air like a knife. But the Seelie Queen merely watches, her expression unreadable as sh takes in the scene before her. 

And then, as if sensing the shift in the air, she turns her gaze toward Simon, her eyes narrowing with interest. "And what of you, Daylighter?" she asks, her voice silky smooth. "Do you wish to save your friends from their plight?”

Simon steps forwards, his jaw clenched with determination, “Please,” he says, his voice trembling with emotions, “Let them go, I’ll do anything you want.” 

The Seelie Queen smiles, a cruel twist to her lips as she regards him. "Anything?" she repeats, her tone dripping with malice. And Simon, being the idiot he is nods, repeating her words, his voice steady despite the fear lurking in his gaze as he glances back at us. 

Her smile widens even more, malice behind those bright eyes as she watches Simon with a predatory intent, “Very well,” She practically purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “You must kiss the one you desire most, Daylighter.” 

My heart sinks like a stone in my chest, a heavy weight pulling me down as if I’ve just plummeted on the steepest drop of a rollercoaster. I can hardly bear to watch as Simon hesitates, his gaze flickering between me and Clary before settling on Clary. It makes me feel a surge of panic that grips me, the fear that he’s going to choose Clary overpowering any rational thought. After all, they share a history that goes far beyond anything I could offer him. They've been through so much together, and deep down, I know they're meant to be.

As Simon splutters in response to the Seelie Queen's demand, I can't help but feel a sense of resignation settle over me. Of course, he's going to pick Clary. It's what's expected of him, what everyone would expect of him.

But then, to my astonishment, Simon takes a hesitant step towards us both, his movements slow and deliberate, like a cautious traveller navigating unfamiliar terrain. My heart flutters erratically in my chest, disbelief washing over me like a crashing wave against the shore. Could it be? Could he really be choosing me? 

I watch in stunned silence as Simon takes another deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that mirrors the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me despite his lack of need to breathe anymore. His brow furrows slightly, as if he’s wrestling with an inner conflict, but beneath the uncertainty, there’s a flicker of determination in his eyes. 

And then, in a move that catches everyone off guard, Simon takes two decisive steps towards me. As he takes those two decisive steps towards me, the air crackles with anticipation, charged with the electricity of the unexpected. My heart races in my chest, a fluttering bird desperate to take flight as I watch him, my breath caught in my throat. 

With a tenderness that belies the uncertainty of his movements, Simon’s fingers brush against my cheek, sending a thrill of warmth racing through me. His touch is gentle yet firm, as if seeking solace in the connection. His eyes, pools of liquid amber, search mine with an intensity that steals my already very shallow breath away. It’s as if he's peering into the depths of my soul, seeking reassurance and understanding in the unspoken language of our gaze.

In this suspended moment, the world falls away, leaving only Simon and me in our own private universe. Time slows to a crawl, each heartbeat echoing like the distant tolling of a bell, as we stand on the precipice of something momental. And then, without a word, Simon leans in, closing the gap between us with a hesitant that mirrors my own. His lips, soft and inviting, brush against mine in a tender caress, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through every fibre of my being. 

His kiss is like a balm to my soul, a revelation that leaves me breathless and wanting more. It's as if every dream I've ever dared to dream is coming true in this one perfect moment, as if the universe itself has conspired to bring us together in this exquisite dance of fate. It’s a symphony of sensations, each touch igniting a wildfire of longing that burns deep within me. Every brush of his lips against mine sends shockwaves of pleasure racing through my veins, leaving me dizzy with desire.

It’s as if time itself has ceased to exist, and we’re caught in a timeless embrace, lost in the swirling currents of passion and devotion. In the moment, there is only Simon and me, bound together by the invisible threads of fate, our souls intertwined in a dance as old as time itself. 

My hands ache to reach out to him, to tangle in his hair and pull him closer until there’s no space left between us. And finally, as if hearing the silent plea of my heart, the vines that once ensnared me begin to untangle, releasing me from their grasp. 

With a sense of liberation that fills me to the brim, I reach out to Simon, our fingers intertwining in a silent vow of solidarity. His touch is electric, sending shivers of anticipation racing down my spine as he pulls me closer, his hands finding purchase on my hips. 

As Simon pulls away, a lingering warmth remains between us, a silent echo of the passion we shared in that fleeting moment. Our fingers remain intertwined, a silent vow of solidarity that speaks volumes in the hushed stillness of the Seelie Court. But, as we catch our breath, a sudden realisation dawns upon us—Clary is nowhere to be seen. Panic grips my heart like a vice, squeezing tight with the weight of guilt as I realise the consequences of our actions.

My gaze darts around the clearing, searching desperately for any sign of Clary's presence, but she's vanished without a trace. The guilt gnaws at me, twisting in my gut like a serpent as I struggle to come to terms with the consequences of our choices. 

The Seelie Queen watches us with a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement as she observes the turmoil playing out before her. "It seems your friend has left you," she remarks, her voice like velvet edged with steel. "No matter. You may go.” Her words hang in the air like a verdict, leaving me with a sinking feeling of unease. I exchange a worried glance with Simon, the weight of our actions pressing down upon us like a heavy burden.

As we turn to leave, the Seelie Queen's voice stops us in our tracks. "Remember," she says, her voice a whispered promise carried on the wind. "When the time comes to face against Valentine, I will consider helping you."

Her words offer a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that looms ahead, a beacon of light in the darkness of our uncertain future. And as we step out of the Seelie Court and into the crisp night air, I can't help but wonder what trials await us on the path ahead—and whether we'll emerge victorious, or succumb to the shadows that lurk in the depths of our own hearts.

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[kindsummer]

WIP Game

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

(my google docs are hyperoragnized so i'm going by folder. if it seems like there's a theme/sections that's bc there is)

yungi

bastogne romp

harry & bubbles bestieism fic (for @cup-noodle that is coming out this month or so help me @ me)

corpse bride

nun priest

the crow

9-1-1 au

natm andyeddie

sledge / chemical warfare

3am visits

anteros & hermaphroditus

luztoye

polar express

roe murder mystery

still on patrol

webgott ancient spirit possession

90s demigod au

far over the misty mountains

finding home

fnaf self insert

gotg au

palaye / hogwarts

devotion

haunted mansion

renfield

spidermanz fanfic (but in all caps for some god forsaken reason)

we are really doing this (victorian au)

we put the ass in assassins

adante, adante

chaos reigns baybee

that time the gang robbed the swiss bank

airborne au

matt/evie's no good very bad au

tfa crossover au

warsaw uprising au

bucksquared 3 drabbles

mattrosie drabbles

noah kahan lyric prompts (49)

bucksquared wedding sidequest

gala @ the whitehouse

post war in nuremburg

the gang meets joyce liebling-meir

tolkien side adventure chapter

impractical jokers au

noah kahan diversion

p&p au

shadowhunters au

winx au

1945 reincarnation one-shot death-o-rama

1960s bikerider au -- reincarnation

1975 summer slasher -- reincarnation au

2020 political thriller au

bg3 self insert

devotion v 2.0

may the odds be ever in your favor

overlord bitchez

tank tank brr brr

hbo war plot ideas bitchhhhhhhhh

drabbles (incomplete)

(INC) 2005 action adventure --reincarnation au

(INC) 1990 actor au -- reincarnation

(INC) DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE AU

(INC) eviebenny 3 drabbles

(INC) MUSICIAN AU

(INC) rowing au

(inc) are ones i haven't finished plotting out :P i bolded my most favorite unhinged names.

thanks for the tag @thoughpoppiesblow you have unwittingly unleashed the longest post tumblr has ever seen. sorry @ everyone on the dash may you rest in pieces. im tagging @canofpeaches, @coldarena, @cup-noodle, @fallsirens, @noneedtoamputate !! bc those are the only other people i follow. no pressure y'all im just nosy as shit.

[perpetualprocrastinationisme]

I don't even want to think about the end of the Shadowhunter Universe, but when I consider what the ending of TWP might look like all I can picture is the banishment of all demons and sealing up where they are banished to so they can never escape. Growing up in a really religious household and thinking about the Bible verses that are occasionally sprinkled throughout TSC, it seems fitting. Towards the end of Revelation (the last book in the Bible that describes the End Times of the World and pretty much caps everything in the Bible off) Jesus takes Satan and his angels (demons) and throws them into hell. He seals them up there so they can never leave again. Therefore, I think it would be very fitting for the last book in the TSC universe to kind of mirror that. But it would also fit the storyline that this ending will fundamentally change the Shadowhunting world forever. Because, without demons to fight, what does it even mean to be a Shadowhunter?

I admit that this ending feels pretty disappointing because, what do Shadowhunters do now? Do they just become mundanes with elevated physical abilities? Are they just the caretakers of Idris?

What do you think will be the thing that changes the Shadowhunter world forever?

[heroicintention]

is  there  a  piece  of  your  character’s  canon  that  you  refuse  to  accept ?

𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 .

He isn't on this blog, but for Jason, I refuse to acknowledge the idea that he was fully revived via the Lazarus Pit. I'm far too invested in the idea of him coming back to life, clawing himself out of a coffin, and the events from there. Yes, I get that Superboy punching the universe makes little sense but there's better ways to fix it. That boy is basically a meta human, lets GO.

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We can't forget Steve's choice to leave everyone behind to lowkey ruin the established family Peggy supposedly had. A writer's choice that went badly in my opinion. I get it was time for Cap to go but... why like that? Steve drinks his respect women juice; I feel he'd respect that Peggy had her life and loved it... separate from him.

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I don't pay attention to the Shadowhunter Chronicles show... it deviated way too far from the books (my source material) so I guess I'm not really accepting that.

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And of course, I will choose to accept anything past Carl dying in Walking Dead. Sorry not sorry, the way that happened was terrible and unnecessary. Carl's character was incredibly important to drive the plot forward and I feel like a lot of shit fell apart after that. Because they kept killing the younger characters, focusing on the older ones and basically disregarding that a legacy would have made for better longevity. The characters at this point seem... disappointingly tired.

While I ignore Beth and Lizzie's deaths for my blog, I definitely accept them as the canon (that I don't have to follow). Carl's, though, was a terrible tear away from the comic and an awful mistake.

[alexanderlightweight]

I loved that competent Alec post! I do have a thing for Jace, Izzy and Clary being taken down a peg or two becase they are really awful to Alec like, zero empathy on their part... also, competent Alec, standing up for himself and not taking anyone's bullshit is super hot and I'm sure Magnus agrees

yeah..... i might have to write a second chapter because Magnus meeting a furious, feral and competent Alec who is on a rampage because there is insubordination and traitors in his institute?

that is, that is good stuff right there. especially because all know alec is this stone cold visage of an ice capped peak and then he sees magnus and he just.

melts.

and magnus is just like 'you make a very pretty puddle, alexander'

sorry i am tired and it made me cackle.

but yeah, alec melts for magnus and magnus is just like, 'oh wow okay i have no idea whats going on but i'm onboard'

alec: i'm not thankful for the problem that caused us to meet but boy, it was worth it

Magnus gets whiplash because on one hand he's got this sweet, giant of a shadowhunter eating out of his palm and the next he's got this icy mountain of glowers daring anyone to disobey him because he'll lay them out flat.

magnus later to mirai: so, in the interest of me getting your commander out for a little relaxation, bring his tension down. how about you show me that footage i keep hearing about?

mirai: ... yeah okay, if he didn't like you we'd all know by now so sure. why not. this job is already exhausting and i bet he's even more tired.

thank you for the ask and compliments and sharing what you like because 100% i agree and am down for it

[no6secretsanta]

Dangerous Thoughts

To: @secretagentfan

From: @glorifiedscapegoat

Hi, SAF! Happy Holidays and a New Year! I’m so sorry for the delay on this! I hope you like it! You mentioned that you liked AUs, so I went for a Shadowhunters AU because I felt like it suited Shion and Nezumi a lot. Especially since there’s some mutual pining here and some humor. I really hope that you like it!

- - -

“Poseidon?” Safu said into her cell phone, her brow crinkling. “As in the Greek god? That’s what you’re calling this thing? Why don’t you just call it a kraken?”

Shion was only half listening to Safu’s voice. He looked around. The sun had just gone down. He’d always loved to go to the pier, ever since he was a little boy and his mother had taken him there to play arcade games and ride the Ferris wheel. He loved the fair food—burgers and fries, cotton candy and popcorn—and the sparkler parties the college students held on the beach.

The mundanes had poured thousands of dollars into renovating the pier into a tourist attraction. The miniature amusement park was filled with new rides, street vendors, and ticket stands where sleepy-eyed girls passed out bright pink strands to children.

The boards beneath Shion’s feet were still warped and weathered from years of sun and sea salt. The air smelled of ocean water and the sticky scents of candy apples. The merry-go-round in the distance poured carnival music over the assembled crowd. There were ring-toss games where players could win giant stuffed animals, and beneath the railings were dark places where sinister creatures liked to gather.

That was the thing Shion wished he could change about being a Shadowhunter. Shion could see the beauty of the LED lights and mundane-made structures, but he also noticed the things the mundanes didn’t. There were dark sprites gathered underneath one of the abandoned picnic tables, gnawing on scraps of garbage and dropped fries. Over the railing, a mermaid twisted and danced beneath the white-capped waves. She had what appeared to be a glow-stick clutched in her fist.

“Are you all right?” Safu asked. She slipped her phone into the pocket of her jacket. The wind tossed her dark hair, gathered into a high ponytail and spilling to her shoulders. Safu, Nezumi, and Inukashi had dressed in gear, but Shion was wearing street clothes. Safu hadn’t intended for him to tag along.

“I’m fine,” Shion replied. “Where are Nezumi and Inukashi?”

“Over there,” Safu said, pointing.

Shion followed her gaze to the brightly lit stand where mundanes had gathered to compete against each other and win prizes. The goal was to toss a plastic ring and have it land around the neck of one of the red glass bottles lined in the center of a plastic pool. Shion didn’t understand what was so difficult about it—he was uncoordinated by Shadowhunter standards, and even he could throw rings and have them land perfectly.

Nezumi held three plastic rings in his hand. Inukashi, dressed in all black with their hair pulled back, stood beside him, eating blue cotton candy out of a plastic bag. There was a teenager standing next to them—a mundane from the look of the pristine white skin up his bare arms, which were currently folded across his chest.

Nezumi threw the rings, all three into the air at once. Each of them—red and green and blue—spiraled into the air and came down around the neck of the same bottle.

“Shit!” shouted the mundane teenager.

“Told you,” replied Inukashi, their mouth full of bright blue cotton candy.

Safu sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

A mixture of cheers erupted from the crowd of mundanes at the ring toss. Nezumi snatched his prize, something in a plastic bag, from the game master and said to the teenager, “Better luck next time.”

He headed towards Safu and Shion with Inukashi padding along beside him. His hair was pulled back, too, several strands hanging loose over his ears and falling to his collarbone. Nezumi had faerie blood in his family, like Shion, and it showed in his features: his vibrant silver eyes, his angular cheekbones, and the porcelain color of his skin.

Dangerous thoughts, Shion told himself. There were things he thought about his parabatai that he could never give voice to—no matter how much it was killing him inside.

“So,” said Shion, attempting to distract himself, “Rikiga said the demon is a kraken?”

“Supposedly,” Safu replied. Nezumi and Inukashi had come into earshot. Inukashi was muttering something about a pretty girl with pink hair who kept squealing whenever her boyfriend told her a joke. “It snatches children from the side of the pier. Someone spotted it lurking next to the boardwalk and thought it was algae–all right, why does Nezumi have a goldfish?”

Nezumi held the plastic bag up into the air. Inside it, a small orange fish swam around in a lazy circle. “I put a teenager in his place and won a fish for my troubles.”

Shion shook his head. Nezumi had spent most of his life training with his parents—two brutal Shadowhunters who had, ultimately, been torn apart by demons. Nezumi’s misfortunes had made him bitter and sarcastic to most, and downright snarky to those he liked spending time with.

Nezumi had adjusted well to mingling among mundanes (partially because of his part-time job at the theater, where most of the cast were Downworlders who had once been normal mundanes) but there were still times when he seemed to forget (or simply not care) that he wasn’t supposed to pick fights in public.

Nezumi stepped around Safu and placed the plastic bag in Shion’s hands. “My bright one,” Nezumi announced in a rather theatrical voice. “I have won a goldfish and offer it to you as tribute.”

He bent forward and kissed Shion on the cheek. Nezumi smelled the same as he always did: jasmine and snowfall, compressed together into something so unique to Nezumi that Shion had never found it anywhere else.

Nezumi had called him “my bright one” long before they became parabatai. Shion looked like he belonged to the Fair Folk, Nezumi had said—with his winter-white hair, pale skin, and bright red eyes. Shion wasn’t surprised. He had a bit of Fae blood in his veins, on his father’s side. “My bright one” was supposedly a sign of high respect for a faerie prince or princess, and so that, on top of “Your Highness” and “Your Majesty”, was a nickname Nezumi assigned to him.

It was a sweet kiss, gentle and soft against his cheek. Though he knew Nezumi was merely joking, Shion blushed. He glanced over at Inukashi, who was watching with wide eyes. Safu looked pale and shocked. It was only a brief glance before she schooled her expression back into impassivity.

Shion took the goldfish. “Thank you, Nezumi. She’s beautiful. Have you named her yet?”

“I thought His Majesty would be upset if I were to impose like that,” replied Nezumi with an indifferent shrug. He took one look at the unimpressed expression on Shion’s face and snorted. “Don’t give me that look. No, I didn’t name her. Do you even name fish?”

“I named mine Bubbles,” answered Inukashi. They were leaning against the pole of a booth selling hot dogs and Coca Cola in massive red and white cups. “A kid in the Academy told me it was cruel to keep fish hostage and dumped it into the ocean. Didn’t have the heart to tell the brat that goldfish can’t survive in saltwater.”

“That’s horrible,” Safu said. Her cheeks were flushed from the mid-evening chill.

Nezumi put a hand over his heart—where his parabatai rune was located, peeking out of the hem of his shirt—and bowed his head solemnly. “A moment of silence, then, for our fallen comrade.”

Shion shook his head with a laugh. He eyed the goldfish in the bag and tried to think of a suitable name.

The goldfish had beautiful orange scales; upon further inspection, Shion saw that there were flecks of pale yellow and white along her sides and around her fins. She seemed to glow from within. Shion thought there might be a drop or two of fae blood in her veins and wondered if that would affect her ability to go into the Institute.

“I like Lady Macbeth,” Shion decided.

“Lady Macbeth dies, you know,” said Nezumi. “That does not bode well for that fish.”

“I can take care of a fish. I’m not forgetful like you.” Shion patted the side of the plastic bag and gave Lady Macbeth a small grin. “Don’t worry, Lady. You’re safe with me.”

“The hell do you mean I’m forgetful?” Nezumi demanded.

Shion opened his mouth to answer—and then he felt a shiver of cold pass over his skin. He knew. Demons gave off a distinctive aura, and though Shion had never been in combat with one, he’d been around them enough. Shadowhunters were instinctively capable of knowing when a demon was present.

All humor had gone from Nezumi’s face. Within seconds, each Shadowhunter had a weapon in hand: Nezumi had his knife, Safu had a seraph blade, and Inukashi clutched a needle-thin dagger. Shion clutched his stele in his fist, the crystal tip pointed outward.

“Where’s it heading?” asked Inukashi.

“Toward the end of the pier,” replied Safu. She jerked her head toward the assemblage of mundanes gathered near the railing overlooking the dark ocean water. “That’s where the most potential victims are located.”

“I’ll cut it off,” said Nezumi. He’d only brought his knife—but Shion knew how quick he was. Nezumi could move as fast as an elf, and though Rikiga required him to bring seraph blades and a sword, Nezumi could often make do with just his dagger and his speed. “Head to the beach and cut it off if it changes course and goes to the water.”

Inukashi and Safu were gone as soon as the command left Nezumi’s lips. Shion took off running toward the end of the pier, his sneakers thumping against the wooden boards. The wind threatened to knock Lady Macbeth from his hands, but he clutched her close and kept her from bouncing.

The stele felt warm and sturdy in his hand. Shion had no weapons, but he felt invincible. The dangerous thoughts from before had been cast aside. Everything in his mind focused on the task at hand: stopping the demon.

Shion heard the footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to look to know it was Nezumi. He’d been given no order, but Shion and Nezumi were parabatai—they battled together, traveled together. Nezumi’s footsteps had been at his side from the moment Shion had begun training.

“Over there,” Nezumi said, but Shion could already see it. A dark shape scurried along the railing, massive and thick, invisible to the eyes of unknowing mundanes. The Ferris wheel was coming back around for another stop. It had begun to slow.

Shion dove toward the Ferris wheel line and began to shove his way through it. He and Nezumi had not applied any glamour runes, so several people swore at them and shouted as Nezumi and Shion stomped on toes and elbowed ribs and knocked people to the ground without an apology. Shion had felt bad about it the first time he’d tagged along for patrol—and maybe he would after the demon was dead.

The carriage was coming to a halt. A young couple—a tall girl in a green school uniform and her petite girlfriend with her hair done up in blond pigtails—was about to climb in. Shion saw the demon beginning to head for the Ferris wheel, going for the metal rails.

“Sorry,” Shion shouted, shoving past the couple and nearly knocking them to the ground. The carriage was small, a colorful square with a pole in the center and two benches. There wasn’t much room to stand.

Over his shoulder, Shion heard the tall girl ask her girlfriend if she was alright. People in the line were shouting at the ticket master, but Shion had already collapsed against the side of the carriage as it had begun to lift back into the air.

The carriage rocked beneath his feet as Nezumi clambered in after him. He slammed the safety gate shut just as the thing hefted into the air. Nezumi leaned out over the railing, clutching his knife in his hand. “Where did it go?” he demanded, craning his head up.

Shion squinted through the lights. He’d seen it. He was positive of that. From this height, the Ferris wheel was a brilliant pillar of light and iron painted bars. The two carriages beneath Shion and Nezumi still had their previous passengers in them. The line below must have still been in a frenzy from Shion and Nezumi’s sudden arrival.

Nezumi set his boot on the bench, and Shion reached out to grab his arm. “Wait.” He set Lady Macbeth’s plastic bag on the ground of the carriage, safely tucked beneath the bench. “Runes,” Shion said, holding out his stele.

The carriage was still rising into the air. Shion could see the beach below, the dark water spilling across the sand. He saw the lights of Kronos in the distance. The mountains and the cliff edges were pinpricks of white towards the direction of the Institute.

The stars were dim and barely visible in the brilliant light of the amusement park. Nezumi glanced over at Shion, his expression blank. He stepped down from the bench and shrugged off his jacket. It slid down his back and landed in a heap, revealing his bare arms and collarbone.

Shion’s mouth went dry. This was the closest he and Nezumi had been to each other without any of the others near for almost a week, and Shion’s heart hammered a mile a minute. Nezumi picked up his jacket and held it out to Shion without a word. Shion took it, knowing the ritual well by now. Nezumi gave him his jacket to wear to keep him safe, Shion marked him with runes, and then Nezumi went off and slaughtered the demon.

The lights of the wheel had turned blue and yellow as Shion slipped Nezumi’s jacket on. The lights cast shadows across Nezumi’s face and arms. His hair hung down around his shoulders, most of it pulled back. Shion could tell by looking at him that he was a warrior: the bones beneath his skin and muscles were hard as iron.

Nezumi was beautiful. He had always been beautiful, even when he was bleeding in the foyer of the Institute. It was a memory Shion didn’t like to relive because it reminded him that there had been a time when he and Nezumi had not been parabatai. Nezumi’s silver eyes flashed in the changing lights of the Ferris wheel. He was beautiful, and Shion stood with his hand trembling around the hilt of his stele and his body aching.

He wanted to touch Nezumi. He knew he couldn’t. He and Nezumi had taken the parabatai oath—had stood in front of the Silent Brothers and pledged to fight together, to live together, to be together, but never to fall in love.

Nezumi stepped forward as the Ferris wheel brought the carriage around to the top. The collar of Nezumi’s gear was low, displaying the pale flesh of his collarbone. The top of his parabatai rune peeked out above his heart. The skin along his throat and shoulders was scored over and over with faded silvery lines that were only visible in brief flashes, the remnants of old runes.

Shion had to step closer to Mark him. He pressed the stele to Nezumi’s forearm. The runes bloomed beneath the tip of the stele: agility, stealth, night vision, glamour so the humans wouldn’t see him. Shion placed a Sure-Strike in between Nezumi’s collarbone, close to his heart where it would be the most effective. Nezumi was slightly taller than him, but enough to make a difference; Shion’s head reached to his chin, and he stared directly at Nezumi’s throat.

“Give me your stele,” Nezumi said abruptly.

Shion jerked his head up. He had just finished the runes. Nezumi reached out to take the stele from his hand, and Shion surrendered it without resistance. Nezumi stared at him, and Shion couldn’t read the expression on his face. Nezumi’s eyes had turned the color of storm clouds in the darkness of the carriage. The lights from the Ferris wheel had turned red and yellow, spreading out around them and spilling down to the pitch-black waters below.

Nezumi took Shion’s arm, the one with the parabatai rune on his wrist. He shoved the sleeve of his jacket and Shion’s button-down up. There was tenderness behind his touch, a gentleness that Shion had never associated with Nezumi before.

Nezumi pressed the tip of the stele to Shion’s wrist and pulled it in swift spirals around his skin. Bolts of warmth shot through Shion’s stomach and down to his toes. He shifted his weight to his other leg.

A single Mark appeared on the pale skin above his parabatai rune. Shion recognized it as the looping patterns of a protection charm. Nezumi’s head was bent forward, his gaze fixed on the task of finishing the rune. Shion fought to keep from shivering. His body felt warm.

Once the rune was finished, Nezumi handed the stele back to Shion. Nezumi’s pale arms were painted in runes of stealth and power, crafted in Shion’s elegant penmanship. Shion gazed down at the scratching on his arm. Nezumi had harsh handwriting, spiked at the corners as if he had carved it with the tip of his knife.

Nezumi gripped the hilt of his knife and stepped forward. He took Shion’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced their eyes to lock.

Shion’s heart clenched. “Nezumi?” he whispered. The lights of the Ferris wheel had turned to a deep, rich blue that almost threw Nezumi completely into darkness.

Something rose up on the other side of the carriage—a wriggling mass of frigid tentacles the color of blood. Not the fresh blood that came from a cut from a blade. The blood that welled beneath an infected wound that killed in slow, feverish tendrils. One tentacle had clung to the spoke of the Ferris wheel. Its mouth was open wide, its teeth sharp as needles.

“Nezumi!” Shion shouted, and Nezumi flung himself from the carriage. He caught himself on one of the many bars interlocking the spokes and carriages together.

Shion scrambled to the side and leaned over. Nezumi was holding onto the spoke with one hand. With the other, he hacked at the tentacle keeping the creature locked to the wheel.

The edge of the knife caught the creature’s tentacle as it reeled back. It screeched. Nezumi turned his face away as a spray of black ichor splashed against his neck and bare arms.

Shion clutched the stele in his fist as Nezumi pulled himself up on the spoke. For half a second, Shion considered throwing the stele like a projectile—but the creature, shockingly fast, was already scrambling down along the tangle of iron bars. And a Shadowhunter without their stele is as good as dead.

Shion ran to the other side of the carriage as the wheel began to descend. LED lights exploded around him in a sea of blues and reds and yellows. Nezumi clambered down the wheel spokes after it. Shion could see ichor spilled on the iron. He knew the creature was hurt.

The view from the Ferris wheel was beautiful. The pitch-black sea and the silver sand spread out beneath him in all directions. Shion felt like he was dangling off the edge of the world.

He could taste blood and salt in his mouth, and he knew it had come from Nezumi. Shion’s parabatai was jumping down the length of the wheel, using the spokes and wires and iron bars to steady himself. The creature had gone to the center of the wheel. Its crimson tentacles wrapped around the bolts and jerked. Shion leaned over to see what it was doing—and then he went cold.

The demon was attempting to wrench the bolt out from the Ferris wheel. If it succeeded, the whole thing would roll off the pier. Shion couldn’t pretend that any of the passengers on the wheel would survive, or that any of the groups of mundanes lingering below would, either.

The Ferris wheel rocked. Shion stumbled and caught the edge of the carriage against his stomach. He winced in pain. The creature had its tentacles around the wheel’s heart and was twisting it. Nezumi, spotting the demon and realizing what it intended to do, redoubled his speed and sprinted down the iron bars. He was too far above the wheel’s middle.

The carriage had begun to swing back down and around. Shion ducked when he passed the ticket booth. He couldn’t see the tall girl and her blond girlfriend, but the chaos in the line seemed to have died down. Once he was out of the loading dock, Shion raced to the edge and craned his head upward.

Nezumi stretched his body out along the iron bar. He wrapped his left arm around one of them, and then he looked down at Shion and nodded.

Shion knew, instinctively, without having to wonder, what Nezumi intended for him to do. He pushed the sleeve of his borrowed jacket up—pretending not to notice that it smelled like his parabatai—and etched a quick glamour spell on the inside of his wrist. Once the glamour rune had finished, once Shion knew he would be hidden from the eyes and ears of normal mundanes, he leaned over the edge of the carriage and screamed.

It was different from the squeals of delight from the Ferris wheel passengers. It was different from the laughter on the pier and the squeals of children up way past their bedtime. Shion poured all of his fear and concern for his parabatai into the sound. He released all the frustration he’d been feeling, all the late nights lying awake in his bed, all the dangerous thoughts he couldn’t seem to quell.

The demon stopped yanking on the wheel and raised its head towards the sound. Shion saw its three eyes, oval and glossed as pearls. Nezumi released his grip on the spoke and plummeted down toward the demon. As he fell, he angled his knife, his hair whipping back from around his face. He was a falling star, and the demon’s white eyes seemed to widen as it pieced together that Shion’s scream had been a distraction.

It was too late. Nezumi whipped the knife forward, driving it down into the top of the demon’s skull. The blade punctured its flesh with a slick, wet sound. The creature’s tentacles flailed in a dying spasm.

Nezumi wrenched his knife free and stepped off onto one of the spokes. The demon’s body jerked back and rolled along one of the downward spokes of the wheel. It reached the end and tumbled off. Shion thought he heard a splash in the ocean, but there was no time to wonder. He looked at Nezumi, who was scrambling down the side of the wheel and heading for the ground.

The carriage was coming back around towards the loading dock. Shion grabbed Lady Macbeth from her spot under the bench and hopped out of the carriage as it approached the ground. He was invisible from the glamour rune, so an empty carriage earned a few strange looks, but Shion was making his way through the crowd towards Nezumi long before anyone could wonder what it could mean. Mundanes had an interesting way of dismissing things they perceived as strange simply because it was easier to handle than the truth.

Nezumi was standing a few feet away under one of the pier LED lamps. He was breathing hard. He spotted Shion, and the tension in his body seemed to dissipate. Behind them, the Ferris wheel spun, lowering passengers towards the beach and picking up new ones for the ride. Shion could see the crowd of mundanes, the shimmer of water along the shoreline, and two dark figures standing on the beach that could have been Safu and Inukashi.

“Nice work, Your Majesty,” said Nezumi. He wiped ichor off his bare arms. It left black streaks on his pale skin, as if he’d been messing around with an inkwell and the whole thing had spilled on him.

“You, too,” Shion murmured, lowering his head so Nezumi couldn’t see him blushing. He clenched the plastic bag in his fist. Inside, Lady Macbeth swallowed bubbles and swam without a care in the world.

⁂

Safu and Inukashi were waiting for them beneath the pier. Inukashi had taken off their boots and waded partway into the waves. Safu was wiping ichor off her Hightower hunting knife. At her feet was a patch of drying sand the color of charcoal.

“Was the demon dead when it hit the water?” Shion called. The glamour rune on his right wrist burned in the crisp mid-evening air. “Please tell me it was. Even if it isn’t true.”

“Close enough,” replied Safu. “It rolled into the shallows. Inukashi caught it trying to crawl away, but they cut its tentacle off and it went down.” She nudged at the patch of ichor smeared into the sand. “The tentacle dove into the ocean, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

Nezumi had wandered away from Shion and down to the edge of the water. Inukashi splashed out of the shallows and jammed their wet feet into their boots. Both he and Safu were fully glamoured, and Shion saw a group of mundane teenagers completely overlook them as they walked across the beach. He wondered what the mundanes would think if they could see them now—a ragtag bunch of Shadowhunters splattered in black blood, with knives and steles rather than wallets and iPhones.

Inukashi made some snide comment in response to something Nezumi had said. Nezumi responded with a sound like a sardonic laugh and brushed some of the black ichor from his arms. All four of them were shivering. The night air smelled like dirt and seawater and popcorn. Shion could hear the carnival at his back. The city in the distance glistened like the carapaces of a thousand beetles, all silver and gold and blinking red. The ocean waves lapped against the sand in the distance. The moon had crept behind a small patch of clouds.

“We’d better get back,” Safu said, pulling her soaking wet jacket around her shoulders. “Before Rikiga sends a search party.”

“Where’d you park the Jeep?” asked Nezumi. He scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Some of the ichor had splattered across his face, leaving a trail of black tar over his lips. “I’ll drive.”

“Doesn’t that burn?” asked Inukashi. They were soaked to the bone, their dark hair clinging to their neck. It had come loose from its ponytail sometime during the battle, and they looked every bit as wild as Shion thought they had the day they arrived at the Institute.

“Not really,” replied Nezumi with an indifferent shrug. “Doesn’t taste that great, though.” He spat a glob of black onto the beach.

“It’s parked back there,” said Safu, gesturing to the carnival parking lot. At Nezumi’s disgusted look, she answered, “Well, what was I supposed to do? I can’t put a glamour rune on it, and I don’t want it to get towed. Rikiga still hasn’t forgiven you for the last time that happened, by the way.”

Nezumi examined the edge of his blade, as if he were looking for nicks. “He’ll get over it. Come on. Let’s get the Jeep and go back to the Institute. I need a shower.”

Shion examined the surface of the water. The silver waves lapped against the sand, a gentle shushing sound drowning out the cheerful wails of the mundanes in the carnival.

“Are we sure there aren’t any others out in the shallows?” he asked. “We should check.”

Nezumi, who had been wringing ichor and saltwater out of his hair, shot Shion an incredulous look. “Can you breathe underwater? ‘Cause I sure as hell can’t. Besides, those things are solitary hunters. Extremely territorial. That was the only one. Trust me.”

Shion didn’t even think to argue. His parabatai was better versed in dealing with demons in the field. And if Nezumi assured him that the creature they’d fought was the only one, then Shion would believe him.

Inukashi shot Nezumi a disgusted look as he spat another glob of ichor onto the sand. “Could you stop doing that?” They shuddered. “Disgusting.”

Nezumi flashed them a wide grin, his teeth stained black. Shion smiled over at him, as much as he could. He felt unnaturally calm around Nezumi, but he assumed it was due to the fact that they were parabatai. He was unbearably grateful that Nezumi had asked him to participate in the Trial of Fire. Five years ago, Shion never could have dreamed that the thin, rain-soaked boy in the foyer of the Institute would want anything to do with him.

Nezumi’s silver eyes flickered over in Shion’s direction, and Shion felt a surge of warmth shiver through his body. There was something about Nezumi, something indefinitely strange, a hint of wildness that reminded Shion of a typhoon. He could see it in the glorious silver coloration of Nezumi’s irises, the beautiful color he had never seen on any other creature.

Shion watched as Nezumi wandered over toward him. Reaching Shion’s side, Nezumi lifted his hand and brushed a lock of Shion’s white hair out of his face. Shion leaned into the touch, without thinking, and then forced himself to draw away.

Dangerous thoughts, he reminded himself, gazing into his parabatai’s sharp eyes and hearing the sound of Safu and Inukashi’s voices fading out. Completely dangerous.

[caterpillarinacave]

Peter Fairchild:

He was the last of the triplets to be born, and a surprise to end all surprises. With all the chaos Belials attack on London , Charlotte prenatal visits were mostly just “yep, no one’s dead in there”! So in a twist of fate that could only happen to the London Shadowhunters, bam, screaming baby boy. 

  Peter is super easy going, and joined at the hip with Alexander Lightwood. They’ve been besties literally since Peter was born. They bounce off each other well, and have spent multiple summers laying in the woods, swimming in lakes, and agonizing over music. They’ll end up teaching together in a music school eventually. 

Building on that, the kid is a musical masterpiece. Probably because music is all he does.

Adding on that memory rune, he’s Mozart on steroids. His big three are singing, piano and composing.

His voice is amazing, three octave range, most comfortable in as a low bass. Genuine talent, genuine passion. 

Piano was his first love, and he started it with Alexander. 

 His goal is composing, which he will eventually get to, and absolutely kick ass at.

All three of the triplets are the spitting image of their dad, it’s basically mini Henry 1# 2# and 3#. They inherited the red hair, freckles, eyes, and autism..  Peter is friendly, casual, so-so social skills, but he does try his best.

 He’s got plenty of curls himself, but he doesn’t like to mess with his hair, so he just goes with hats. Particularly herringbone caps, which he wears regardless of being inside or outside.

Also, he really doesn’t like getting his clothes wet. He likes to swim, doesn’t mind bathing, ect, but he hates the feeling of wet cloth on his skin.

Tweed jackets, flocks of songbirds going up, summer night air, leather shoelaces, piles and piles of sheet music, blinding heat of stage lamps, clapping of a crowd you can not see, the familiarity of piano keys, chopin and mozart, carnations, lapel pins, august days with your best friend, conductors baton slipped up your sleeve, the scent of rosin, valve oil, and pen ink under the smell of almond cologne.

(Part 3/5)

[ctrlsugar]

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[lurafita]

Challenge time!

I got a challenge. So I found this:

random generator thing. I typed in the different species we know from canon (tv-show canon for me), and that will randomly assign a species for a character. Like you press go for Magnus, write down result, then press go for Alec, write down result, and so on. Then, once the species have been assigned to the characters, you need to think up a prompt for them. My picks will be under the cut.

Magnus: Shadowhunter

Alec: Higher demon/prince of hell

Jace: Seelie

Izzy: Angel

Clary: Werewolf

Simon: Vampire (🤣)

Raphael: Vampire (Are you kidding me?!)

Catarina: Vampire (is this thing broken?)

Ragnor: Mundane

Maia: Mundane

Luke: Warlock (finally got a warlock in the mix)

okay, I will cap it here for now, other characters can be assigned later if need be.

uff. this is surprisingly hard.

Magnus is the only shadowhunter.

Alec as a higher demon has potential, not gonna lie.

Seelie Jace. hmmm.

and Izzy an angel. Then there could still be a sibling relationship between her and alec, actually. Alec is simply a fallen angel. Izzy didn't fall because she still follows the doctrine. though she might fall as the plot progresses.

Clary as a werewolf. Guess that is easy enough. She could be a mundane that had an encounter with a rogue werewolf, and Magnus found/saved her. Not knowing whether or not she will turn, he can't take her to a hospital. If she needed medical attention, he would probably take her to the institute, where they could also monitor if she changes, dies, or remains mundane. after the change, he can get her to the nearest wolf clan and inform them of the rogue that got her.

simon could also start out as a mundane, maybe he was even with clary when she was bitten and Magnus had to take him along as well. as both simon and clary then want to learn more about the shadow world, simon lands himself on the business end of a pair of vamp fangs. (could be Camille)

Raphael and Catarina could have history. Catarina could be leader of the clan! maybe she was the one who turned raphael in a bit to save his life.

Ragnor could be like a mundane university professor who is well versed in obscured knowledge and the history of mysterious stuff. Maybe Magnus is enrolled in one of his classes, because he has discovered that some of the mundane knowledge about all that goes bump in the dark can be surprinsgly helpful

Maia… I don't know yet.

Luke could be the high warlock of the territory.

okay, how to bring higher demon/prince of hell Alec into the mix.

obviously there would have to be some kind of summoning.

or alec himself decided to visit the mundane plain for a bit, because why not?

and maybe he just happens to witness the shadowhunter that is so uniquely dressed for his kind, fighting off demons, or that rogue werewolf, or whatever. and he takes a shine to him.

Or, Clary was supposed to be a shadowhunter (like her canon counterpart), and Luke was the high warlock who blocked her sight/erased her memories, and the werewolf thing just happened. So when the transformation seems to mess with Clary more than it should, because there is a magical block involved (which they don't know at this point), Magnus calls in the high warlock. Luke helps Clary through the transforamtion, but then in order to have the chaotic energies in Clary balance out, they need to get her her memories back. And just like Magnus in canon, Luke had given them to a demon for safekeeping. The demon in question happens to be Alec.

[khaleesiofalicante]

DANI WHAT IN TEH ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT (with all teh love bc you are sweetheart though a bit of a devil too) EVIL MAGNUS, u know we all jokingly went with oh evil magnus with only love alec will be soo hot BUT NO THIS ISNT WHAT WE MEANT. I KNEW IT I KNEWIT magnus bringing him back was not going to end well for him. all teh time that warning of other max was ringing in my head that one changing canon event is gonna suffer. but turn evil?!, all shadowhunters resurrected ones turned evil, bc of that mikkel i think his name was, knew he would be trouble, bc i knew dani you will not foreshadow soo hard with these two things. poor other max suffered so much, but i knew he wld die protecting being a hero. I SWEAR IF TEH CURRENT TIMELINE DONT LISTEN TO HIM THIS TIME AND FOCUS ON THIER STUPID BELIEFS THAT THINGS WILL CHANGE i am looking at current max, david, hermes and side eyeing alec too bro you seem delusional WAKE UP ALEC MAX HERMES DAVID. magnus and rafe though with udnerstanding consequences and being smart and careful about it still DID IT MAGNUS wtf.

demon world is better that this Dani, atleast people were good.

DANI I NEED YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A CUUTE MALEC FIC please one shot is fine too (preferably with max and rafe). please i need to wash my memory of past 30 mins with the strongest detergent to remove reading eveil magnus by cute loving and amazing badass magnus being in love with alec and hi slittel family.

LIKE KILLING MAX, HIS LITTLE BLUEBERRY, you know we knew max and alec is close but i felt magnus and max had such a special littel bond, like his first kid was max the one who taught him to love as a father, teh one who will be at his side forever, what max thought in the about being killed by his own father was soo sad the one who is supposed to protect and love you forever. I thought nothing would be more painful than arthur die in this fic which i came to terms with but seeing magnus a character that i have loved since 2015 the first time i read him trun eveil and kill max was legit more painful liek even more than alec dying in fmf bc he is mortal so it was gonna happen sooner or later and it was sad but not painful but magnsu eveil as opposite words paradoxical really. (ps not gonna lie i never liked with devlin tech and mundanes to be soooo ingrained bc i liked teh serecy of the shadow world, but i know it also helped with health care so yeah prob taht why i have re read all lbaf stories except the ones with mallory the III and IV one?) like people in current timeline need to work together you little shits and get thier head sout of thier selfish little problems, otherwise things are only gonna get worse. poor other max need not deal with all this coldheartedness and bitchy attitude, has already suffered through too much. i need someone to give him a hug.

i dont think other magnus and otehr max if they survive are going to have a healthy relationship after this ever.

THOUGH I love your brain dani, i love how you make these complex storylines and make us feel so much.

also i hope you know how much you love magnus and how you will not let him die evil 😘

also when is teh next installment of lbaf dropping, i cant wait !!

sorry for the all teh caps and screaming but i literally cant wait to see what happens next

I hope you drank some water after this 🫣

I'm afraid there aren't no one shots for the time being (although you know how i'm suddenly hit with inspiration so who knows) but i promise the next two fics i will write - the rwrb au and a malec one that is in the works - are mostly fun and very much less angsty.

After those two, we will return to lbaf once more. It will most probably be after august or something :)