#the mortal instruments ocs

[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. 

[goddessofwisdom18]

izzy and simon = summer and seth (the oc screencap i used as reference is under the cut)

[ofexistencebane]

New fanfic alert 🔔

Shadows of Legacy

It's 2022, the cohort is quiet, the clave-in-exile is flourishing, and many Nephilim are settling into their families. Though recently, an unidentified demon species has been slaughtering even the most experienced Shadowhunters. The Inquisitor, Diego Rosales and Consul Alec Lightwood must work with other institutes to uncover the origins of this latest threat.

As tensions rise within Shadowhunter politics, old secrets of legacies are revealed, alliances are redefined, and conflicts soon escalate.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62102821

[voidof-all]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61387573/chapters/161683450

Mayfield is updated to Chapter 24!! (This one is a lil more involved and therefore longer than prior chapters!)

Chapter Summary:

Leon and Gabriel's first patrol is side tracked when demonic activity continues to rise throughout the city and they are soon pulled into a dangerous mission with their friends.

Work Summary:

Gabriel Mayfield is a young shadowhunter newly transferred to the New York Institute who just wants to finish his training, except nobody has ever heard of him or any shadowhunters with the name Mayfield before and a certain head of the institute is concerned about where he's appeared from and what it means.

Basically, the story of a young shadowhunter with a mysterious past trying to live a normal shadowhunter life, navigating new friendships/relationships and maybe learning a little trust along the way.

[asterthemegadisaster]

Overview

"What a stupid lamb," I sighed. "What a sick, masochistic lion.” ― Stephenie Meyer, Twilight

Hi guys! I've had a couple different Tumblrs throughout the years, but I think I'm finally ready to commit and actually regularly use it. Anyway, my name is Aster, I'm 21, and I'm pretty boring tbh, but I like writing about all the things in my head--which is usually smut lmao.

As I get back into writing, I wanted to keep anything I put on here organized and easy to find for both you guys and for myself as an author. I'm still figuring out Tumblr so all of this is subject to change! The plan is currently to have 3 masterlists: one for OCs, one for fanfic, and then a "big daddy masterlist," as @rogueandflame has so affectionately put it, that will include works from both of these masterlists. I'm a slut for big into organization so I'll probably go ham. If fanfic isn't your style, check out my cat blog!

All that being said, here's my masterlist collection!

OC Masterlist

Fanfic Masterlist

Big Daddy Masterlist

[tayas-words]

Master list

These are all of the fandoms I currently write for

I will write the following;

Oneshot requests

Pair ups

Head canons

‘How would …. React to …..’

Fluff

Smut (currently just innuendos and making mentions or very heated makeouts)

Angst (obvi)

I will NOT write;

Rap3

Inc3st

Most kinks (bc I don’t have knowledge about them)

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR; (with links to the master lists)

Seduce Me The Otome (1&2)

Shadowhunters (TMI & TID)

The Rookie

Marauders

Harry Potter

Winx Club

Monster high

Percy Jackson

Heroes of Olympus

[tyhxrondxle]

GUYS GUYS GUYS (yes, shadowhunter fans, you are guys) have you watched the O.C???

because Summer and Seth are SO Sizzy coded!!!! like nerd boy x popular girl, they have the same maia storyline, the same personalities, it’s honestly concerning how similar they are.

i never thought i’d see Sizzy adapted in a TV show, specially not one that’s older than the books (if Cassie came out one day saying that Sizzy are based on them I wouldn’t bat an eye), but it’s SO much fun!!!!

[harveybwabbit92]

Fuma: So is the part where you tell me if I hurt Akari, you'll kill me?

Zero: No. If you hurt Akari, she is quite capable of killing you herself. Possibly with a variety of weapons.

[princeofiron]

Welcome to the Garden of Fandoms rp page! If you’re 18 or over and enjoy roleplaying on discord, please take a look through everything ^^!

☁︎ Cast list. Wanted Connections. ☁︎

Advertisement. ⛅︎

☾ Click to join ☽

[muiltifandomnerd]

Oh, I'm so happy that I found someone with the same idea as me!!

Here are my ideas on how virgin goddesses and the frightening faithful wife of Hera have half-blood children.

Artemis: she can creates a baby out of anything, - her ichor, the blood of mortals who have earned her favor, stardust, moonlight, wildflowers, arrows, whatever she wants.

The mortal parents of her children are most often women and men to whom she gave her blessing and with whom she had a platonic relationship.

But more often she simply blesses a couple with child - takes one piece from one parent, for example, blood, another from another parent, for example, the essence of the soul and creates a baby who is their child, but whom Artemis blesses and thus is his "heavenly mother".

Hestia: she creates children from the fire of the Olympic hearth by mixing it with her ichor, she can also bless a couple with a child, like Artemis, again mixing her hearth fire and particles of future parents.

Hera: She also creates children for her platonic friends and blesses couples.

I would love to hear more of your ideas for children of these goddesses.

So far I’m making an oc who is named Isabelle Belmont, and she’s the daughter of Hera. Hera did fall in love with Isabelle’s mom when she was having a break from Zeus, and she is curious to what it will be like to have demigod for herself. She created Isabelle though the clouds and mixing with the mortal mother blood

She definitely gives off lovable bitch vibes and wears preppy and girly clothes but she is very sensitive and can be understanding. She has Hera’s temper and jealousy issues. She’s pansexual as well

Face Claim:

She looks like Isabelle Lightwood from the Mortal Instrument series.

I’m going to make a child of hestia, persephone, and Amphitrite ocs as well.

[x-ceirios-x]

you made your bed

with jace missing, andy struggles with blaming herself for her brother's disappearance accepting the family she has around her.

cw: light cursing, andy having depressive thoughts, angst w/ a nice resolution

There were too many people on the same floor, Andromeda had decided, so she decided to scout around elsewhere. Normally, she had a great time in a crowd of people, but the only people she knew were worried about making sure Clary, the Lightwoods, Rowan, and Simon were okay. Maryse tended to her children, Aric disappeared, and Luke ran off to look for both of his kids. She quickly noticed someone missing in the sea of familiar faces: Jace.

Silently, she slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. She paid attention to the conversations around her; Jace had stayed upstairs to protect Sebastian’s body. She realized she hadn’t seen him much in the last few days and kicked herself for not reaching out. He wasn’t at the Institute for a while, then not at Ironworks, and she suspected there was a better reason behind it, but that didn’t help the fact that she wasn’t there. What a wonderful sister she was turning out to be. 

What would she say to him when she saw him? What would she do? Hug him; punch him, maybe? Reassure him that he could always call her if he needed backup, just like she’d done for Clary a short while earlier? That had been unintentional, though. She’d tailed her to the Church, killed the Hydra demon when things got too rough for her to handle, and patched her up when they got back. She hadn’t thought to call her—how did she convince these people that she was there to help? Sure, sometimes she was a little arrogant and knew she could tone it down a little, but she’d never been around so many people that were a family like this. Even the little vampire was accepted into their ranks. All her life, she’d only ever had herself to rely on. Even in the few years she had Val, she learned not to trust someone that deeply again, because eventually, they’d leave too, even if it wasn’t willingly. 

She didn't get the opportunity to finish her thoughts, because the elevator made a ding noise and the doors opened, revealing the top floor. It was open, dark, and worst of all: empty. She retrieved her witchlight from her pocket and pulled her seraph blade, holding it in front of her and prepared for anything that might come towards her. She walked soundlessly towards the doors opposite her and into the garden outside. 

The cold air hit her immediately. She blinked, a few reflexive tears welling in her eyes as the wind blew into her. Once her eyes focused, she looked around, and saw the mass amounts of rubble from a clear fight. Her eyes landed on the glass casket several feet ahead of her; she drew in a quick breath and broke into a run, stopping only a few inches in front of it. 

Sebastian Morgenstern’s body was gone, the glass casket broken, and Jace was nowhere to be found. 

She fell to her knees, her mouth falling open, as she felt the broken glass dig into her knees. If it weren’t for the shadowhunter gear she’d been wearing, she would have bled, but she didn’t have half a mind to care. All these things were for naught, as Jace was gone. In the last few weeks, she’d done everything she knew how to help him, to help Clary, to show that she cared, and just when she thought they might have time to talk, she might finally find the words to explain all of her complicated thoughts to him, he was gone. 

Andromeda slammed her seraph blade into the tiled floor, tip-first, shattering it. Its glow dimmed as the pieces scattered and quickly disappeared. Something flashed in the corner of her eye—a shadow of sorts, and she held up the broken blade. She raised her head, pushing her hair out of her face, and was met with the face of her former lover. 

She dropped the blade. “Val,” she said, her voice shaking as she spoke. “How are you—”

“You knew this would happen,” she said, sparing her a bored look, barely glancing up from picking at her nails. “You’re too smart for that. You knew.”

“Knew—knew what?” she stammered. “Val—”

She strode towards her and casually sat on the broken coffin. “Your father left, your mother abandoned you emotionally years ago, I left you—and now your brother. Everyone leaves you, Andromeda, when are you going to see the common thread?”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she sat up on her knees, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders. Val, never in a million years, would have called her Andromeda. That was what her mother called her, and she hated it. “You—Val, what is going on?”

Val picked up the hilt of the seraph blade that she’d discarded in her shock when she saw her for the first time, and pushed the remaining, broken blade into her chin, tilting it upward. “It’s you, Andromeda, and I wonder how long it’s going to take you to realize it.”

Andromeda’s eyes flew open suddenly, and as her mind pulled her back to reality from the cruel dream, she realized how heavily she was breathing. She sat up, bracing herself on her arms as she got herself back under control. 

It had been a dream rooted in reality. She remembered finding the broken casket, breaking her seraph blade in a surprising show of angered strength, and returning back to the floor with the rest of the institute. She must have been pale as a ghost because Isabelle, looking suddenly nervous, pointed her mother to her immediately, and she had to explain to Maryse Lightwood that her son was now missing, as was the body of the man the Clave wanted dead the most. 

She checked her phone for the time and realized it was only midnight—she’d gone to bed early after a long day of staying cooped up in the training room. No one had been using it recently, as the Lightwoods and Ashfairs had all been too sick with worry about one person or another’s disappearance to even try training. She’d spent a bit of time with Alec and Clave meetings, but their friendship was incredibly shallow. Clary wasn’t up for talking, too worried about Jace, and it left Andy alone. Even in her mother’s house, she’d never felt that alone: surrounded by people that were supposed to be her friends, but she wasn’t important enough to be family. 

Silently, she pushed herself out of bed, and pulled on a recently-discarded pair of leggings from the floor, a pair of boots she could easily slide on, and her favorite cardigan—the first thing she’d bought for herself in New York City on her shopping trip with Clary. It seemed so long ago, though it hadn’t even been two months since she’d first arrived there. 

Without an end goal in sight, she grabbed her stele and a knife off her nightstand, as well as a few hair pins, and stuffed both into her bra. She fussed with her hair as she walked down the hall, past all the bedrooms with closed doors, and towards the elevator. She paused, suddenly, feeling something pull her back. Her chest tightened and she backtracked a few feet, into Jace’s bedroom. It had sat empty, unchanged other than the occasional rifling through for objects that might possibly be used to track him. Nothing had worked so far. 

His bed was still neat, save for the small, Clary-sized indent in the blanket. She’d spent some time there recently and must have fallen asleep there for a while. Not that she’d know, because she barely saw anyone out and about in the Institute these days.

She scanned the room for a moment and found herself gravitating towards the wardrobe. She opened the one door and pulled down a jacket—a black leather one that looked relatively new. If anything, she understood that Shadowhunters couldn’t keep clothes for very long. Demon blood destroyed many a pair of her favorite pants.

She slid the jacket on and realized it fit decently well. It was a little big in the shoulders but it would help save her from the cold, much more than her thin cardigan and tanktop would. She turned to leave the room and caught herself in the window—her reflection startled her. In that light, with the zipped jacket and hair pulled back, she looked shockingly like her father—or, at least, the photos she’d seen of him. She shook her head to wipe away the thought and turned on her heel, continuing her walk from the Institute into the city. 

Walking the city late at night was never exactly a good idea, which she understood, but she had a feeling that she would be able to fend off whatever demon or drugged-up perv came after her. Which was worse, she didn’t know. She took a right once she stepped off the steps leading into the church, and set off towards the subway station. As she walked, she carved both a soundless and an invisibility rune into her hip, then dropped her shirt back to where it usually sat. It was cold, too cold for her liking usually, but at least the subway itself had a little heat inside. 

She sat on the train silently for what felt like ages. Unable to stop thinking about what she’d seen, even if it was a dream, she spun her stele around her fingers. She felt like something was weighing on her chest and trying to pull it apart at the same time. She’d felt like this before, but never this intense. Part of her felt like punching the wall next to her, but she didn’t want to risk some mundane finding an indent created by no one. 

The ride wasn’t long, but it certainly cut down on the time it would take to get into Brooklyn. She and Clary had walked this path so many times she was half sure she could do it in her sleep. The sad part was, she’d never been inside. Andy walked the few extra minutes down the rough sidewalks before she found herself at Luke’s house, standing a few feet in front of the stairs that led to the front door. With her hand tightly gripped around her stele, she forced herself forward and knocked. 

She didn’t have to wait long. The door swung open and she could see dim lights behind Jocelyn Fairchild, who stood in the door. “Andromeda,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “Are you alright? Clary is asleep for the night—“

“Actually,” she said, offering her best, parent-charming smile. “Is Lucian—“ she stopped herself, remembering that Lucian Graymark—the former Circle member, Shadowhunter and her mother’s younger brother—and Luke Garroway, New York werewolf pack leader and Jocelyn Fairchild’s fiance, were very different people. If she had a name she wanted to put behind her, she had to respect his, too. “Luke. Is he around?”

She paused for a moment and answered her question by stepping aside. Carefully, she shut the door behind her, standing very close to the outside wall, feeling like she wasn’t exactly invited inside. 

Jocelyn leaned over the couch and muttered something to Luke, who kissed her goodnight and let her head off, down the hall. Something between envy and a sense of longing hit her very suddenly—she wondered what it would have been like to grow up with two parents that so obviously loved each other, so evidently so that you could see it in the way they looked at each other. She remembered being that in love, and something in her heart twisted at the idea of it again. 

“Nice jacket,” he said, shifting to sit facing her. “Is it new?”

She opened her mouth to say something but found herself unable to form them. It wasn’t worth explaining all of it to him, she decided, and simply said, “Something like that.” She’d never felt so awkward before—even when she was a young teenager, her mother always told her she was too clever for her own good. She had a smart mouth, sure, but she could talk her way out of any situation she needed to. This—facing Luke, after being so cold to him—only deepend the guilt that had been pooling in her stomach for the last few days. 

He looked at her curiously, blue eyes only lit by the lamp in the corner and shielded behind his glasses. She knew both her parents had blue eyes, but she inherited the deep, dark blue from her father. Just another thing that reminded her she was the spitting image of him. He looked like he decided on something after a moment, and gestured at the couch next to him. “You look like you need to talk. Come sit.”

Weeks ago, when they met again in Idris, she would have snapped back with something rude and left, but his calming nature convinced her. He was right, she did need to talk to someone—to anyone, really. Even when she was by herself in Idris, she had her lab in the cellar or her bedroom to disappear to. She was still somewhat home. New York didn’t feel like home yet, and she still felt like a guest in her own bedroom. She didn’t know if she’d felt at home anywhere since Val died. 

Carefully, she pushed off her shoes and padded over to the couch. She sat on the opposite end of it, facing him, but her knees pulled up to her chest. Even when it was her idea to be here, she guarded herself. “How’s Clary?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper so she didn’t wake anyone in the house. 

“As well as can be expected. Torn up about Jace disappearing and frustrated with the Clave,” he said. “But you’re not here to ask about her—you wouldn’t have come so late. What’s wrong?”

The way he spoke was so parental but casual, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. In Idris, it had pissed her off—she’d spent sixteen years without a father and she didn’t need someone showing up and deciding, randomly, that she needed one. Now, it was almost…comforting. Someone cared. Not the professional manner that Maryse and Aric kept with her at all times, or the tired apathy her mother spoke to her with, but someone genuinely asking how she was doing. A wave of emotion took over her and she felt tears well in her eyes; she wasn’t one to cry and she didn’t know why she was suddenly, but she kept her voice as steady as possible. 

“Guilty as charged,” she said and cut herself off with a quick sniffle. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to dispose of them before he noticed. When she looked back at him, his expression had softened. Andy frowned and her voice hardened. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he said, putting his hands up in a nonchalant surrender. 

“You are!” She realized quickly that she was much louder than she intended. She took a breath and turned back to him. “I don’t like pity.”

He nodded as if everything she said made something click in his mind, like he understood what he was dealing with now; it only infuriated her, but she had to control her temper. “I’m not pitying you, Andromeda.”

“Andy,” she muttered, bitterness seeping into her tone. “Andromeda’s what my mother calls me, especially when she’s mad at me. Andy is fine.”

“Andy, then.” He looked at her expectantly, and she muttered something about how she shouldn’t even be there at the moment. 

She spoke after a moment of debate. She could just leave, actually, but she’d come too far to chicken out now. “I have just felt…so incredibly overwhelmed with everything going on,” she said. She chose her words carefully to not reveal too much, but every bone in her body wanted to break when she glanced at Luke again. There was no clear way to describe this look he had, all the time, but his eyes softened and he looked concerned for her. No one had been concerned for her in a long time. No one worried about the girl who pretended to have all her shit together, not even her own mother. Of course she hadn’t—she’d iced her out years ago. Now, too much time had passed, she felt like if she tried to apologize now, it would just be awkward. She blamed her mother for years, but only after seeing Clary with her mom did she see where they both had gone wrong. 

Her throat tightened as she thought more, thinking of the dream with Val, of her mother, of the stress at the Institute, of Jace—she had a few weeks of getting to know him, and now he was gone. He disappeared and no one knew where he was or even if he was alive. She knew he was an incredible warrior, even better than most around their ages. 

Her voice got smaller as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. “I just can’t talk about it. The last time I did, I got yelled at because I don’t know Jace like everyone else does. It’s just shitty.”

Luke nodded as she spoke. “I can’t tell you I understand your situation, Andy, but I do think it’s not fair to be told you're not allowed to be upset. You and Jace seemed like you were getting closer, no?”

“I was trying to,” she admitted, pouting. She rested her head on her knees, looking over at him. In all honesty, she felt like a child again, getting so upset over nothing. When she was young and some kids were picking on her over nothing, her mom would make her favorite tea and wrap her in a blanket, and tell her stories of faraway lands with knights and dragons and strong princesses who figured their way out of similar situations to whatever she was upset with at the moment. The memories hurt—even if she wanted to, now, her mom would never do something like that. 

“Then it’s perfectly reasonable to be upset about it. He’s still your brother, whether you grew up with him or met him two months ago.” He offered an encouraging smile, though she couldn’t stand looking at him at the moment. Anything might make her snap and send the tears streaming down her face. 

Part of the reason she spent so much time out at night was so she didn’t have to deal with all this—all the thinking. Because once she started, she couldn’t stop. She tinkered late at night when things got to be overwhelming, but there was nowhere in the institute for her to do that. All the weapons in the weapons room were perfectly functional; broken ones were thrown out. She enjoyed fixing broken things—Clary saw it in the teacup while in Idris, but she’d been doing it for years. Now if she could fix herself, it would be a great step in the right direction. 

“How about this,” he said, noticing her hesitancy to believe him. “It’s late—you can crash here tonight, and maybe spending some time with Clary tomorrow will do you both some good. Get you out of your head a little.”

She smirked. “Why do I feel like you're trying to set up a play date?”

“Who says I’m not?” he said and began to stand. “Go wash up,  do whatever you gotta do, and I’ll get the couch set up for you.”

Andy sniffled, though nodded. “Yeah—yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

She stood and walked back the hall, into the bathroom. Really, she could have fallen asleep on the couch the way it was, but Luke wanted to do something nice for her and she should let him. She sat on the counter for a moment, picking at her nails, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked disheveled at best—her sweater was falling off her shoulder and her hair was a mess. No wonder Jocelyn looked so concerned for her. The dark circles under her eyes had only gotten worse since the day before when she spent twenty minutes applying makeup to make them disappear, and she could see the remains of mascara she missed in the corners of her eyes. She looked like hell, frankly, and glared in the mirror at herself.

Even if it was a dream, Val was right. So much of this was her own fault. If she had left sooner, gotten to the roof fast enough to see Jace, she could have stopped him. Fought Sebastian. She heard from both Clary and Jace how strong he was, but even if it killed her, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jace would have been safe, and life in New York would have gone back to the way it was two months again. Just the way everyone would have liked it, probably. Shadowhunters die and go missing all the time, right? What was another Herondale with a tragic ending? 

She turned the sink on and splashed her face with cold water, hoping it would wash away the thoughts. It didn't, to her dismay, but it was enough to get her moving again. She dried her hands and face and walked back out to the living room, trying to fix the rat nest she’d pulled her hair into. 

Luke was sitting on the arm of the couch, skimming over some book she didn’t care to know the contents of. The couch had folded out into a bed that didn’t look comfortable in the slightest, but it was a bed, and that was the important part. The throw blanket that had been folded on the back was now laid out for her, and a square pillow was laid on one side. He looked up and smiled warmly; she didn’t have the energy to do so back. He pulled something out from behind him—a mug, she noticed—and handed it to her. 

She took it gratefully, holding it with both hands to warm her cold fingers. She took a sip, then very quickly pulled it away from her mouth. “Lemon mint?” she asked. 

He looked confused for a moment. “Is that not what you like?”

“It is,” she said, setting the mug down on the coffee table next to her. “How’d you know?”

“It was the only tea in the house when we visited, and Amatis thinks tea tastes like hot brown water,” he chuckled. “Stocked up when you and Clary started hanging out more in case you ever wanted some.”

“I—” She stared at him for a long moment, unsure how to react to that. It had been a long time since someone went out of their way to do something so nice for her, just because they could. Even living at home, her mom did what was necessary and not much more; these days, she didn’t blame her. She stammered for a moment, trying to find the words. She finally managed, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said and stood. “Sleep well, alright? Kitchen light’s on if you need anything.” 

She nodded. He started down the hall, but before he could get too far, she called out, “Hey, Luke?”

He turned. “What’s up?”

Andy’s eyes turned towards the floor and she held her hands behind her back awkwardly. She didn’t know how to ask, but it was better to just rip the bandage off, right? She rocked back and forth on her heels for a moment, then said, “Can I have a hug?”

She stood there for a moment, staring at the carpet. She didn’t know how he’d react to that and she didn’t want to. But then he was in front of her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she felt like she could cry. She forced the tears back but her breath was shaky. Luke didn’t say anything, just let her lay her head on his shoulder and breathe for a moment. She thought about how he’d been nothing but nice to her since they met in Idris and how she’d been so cold, just because she didn’t trust him. And she thought about how he was with Clary, so worried about her when they’d showed up at her mother’s house in Alicante out of the blue, and realized the reason she didn’t trust him was because she didn’t want to let anyone that cared about her like that in. She didn’t want the heartbreak of getting attached to someone who was either going to die or leave again. And despite her attitude, he was there if she ever needed something, and even when she didn’t. 

And hesitantly, she hugged him, too. 

[prpfz]

looking for RPs: Supernatural & The Mortal Instruments

Christmas isn’t going well for various reasons including nightmares, my mental health, family stuff, etc.

I’m 24AFAB.

if anyone in the UNIVERSE would be open to the following, please like this post ASAP:

Jace Herondale x my OC (M/F)

Dean Winchester x my OC (M/F)

I won’t be doubling up, sorry. This is very much a comfort RP ask, with 18+ content where applicable (canon teens would be aged up).

I’m looking for book or movie Jace, not anything related to the show.

I can RP on Tumblr or Discord.

👑

DM @dhampiravidi if interested!

[cherry-chaos-cola]

your name sounds like a harry potter spell

blocked and reported. this is bullying

[voidof-all]

Updated to Chapter 16!!!! I was excited to write this one so I'm glad to have finally got there, the next chapters may not be uploaded as quickly but I'll do my best!

Work Summary:

Gabriel Mayfield is a young shadowhunter newly transferred to the New York Institute who just wants to finish his training, except nobody has ever heard of him or any shadowhunters with the name Mayfield before and a certain head of the institute is concerned about where he's appeared from and what it means.

[batfearshumans]

So, this might seem a little odd, but I have a question! If any of you have role played on Twitter/X and recently migrated to Bluesky, would you be interested in joining me within the Harry Potter and Shadowhunters verses? I'm looking for mains within both for my OC Eloise.

I may or may not also be looking for a Draco Malfoy and Sebastian Morgenstern to build chem and eventually ship my OC with. 👉🏻👈🏻

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Draco Malfoy

And obviously any other canon characters within the books/movies.

The Mortal Instruments / Shadowhunters

Clarissa 'Clary' Fray

Simon Lewis

Jace Herondale

Alec Lightwood

Isabelle 'Izzy' Lightwood

Magnus Bane

Sebastian Morgenstern

And of course any other characters within the books/tv series.

If you are within the role play community on Bluesky, give my Ellie a follow?

[lightheronn]

shadowhunter rp info!!

taylor. she/they. twenty 🕺

rules

- please be 18+ if you wish to rp!

- BE MY FRIEND >:(( what i mean by this is be willing to talk outside of the rp!! i find that the best rps come when the rp partners actually know one another to some extent!

- i only rp on discord! and i’d likely talk to you there too

info

- i write semi lit to novella but i prefer the middle!

- i do any type of pairings. i also play canon characters and ocs!! im open to anything really

- i am familar with tid, tda, tmi and tlh!!

what am i looking for?

- i would LOVEEEEEEEE to do our own version of the… shadowverse?? whatever its called. what i mean by this is!! i’d love to touch on all books eventually, play canon characters and pairings from them, throw in our own ocs. all that jazz!

- but that is a big ask and i am willing to rp just one series dw lol

please dm me if interested!