#clary scribbles

[clarythericebot]

Henry Crawford is not a good person. And yet what draws him so irresistibly toward Fanny is that she is. He sees that she is kind and patient and good, and - in spite of so many contrary influences in his life - he intuits that goodness' value. And because of that, he falls in love,

Here's the thing. Falling in love with a good person is not the same as being a good person, and I love how Jane Austen recognizes that--I love how that message is highlighted and underlined within the text. But it could be the catalyst for redemption.

Something I've pondering is that, in spite of the ending of Mansfield Park, maybe it still could be. We leave Henry Crawford like this:

All that followed was the result of her imprudence; and he went off with her at last, because he could not help it, regretting Fanny even at the moment, but regretting her infinitely more when all the bustle of the intrigue was over, and a very few months had taught him, by the force of contrast, to place a yet higher value on the sweetness of her temper, the purity of her mind, and the excellence of her principles.

That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret: vexation that must rise sometimes to self-reproach, and regret to wretchedness, in having so requited hospitality, so injured family peace, so forfeited his best, most estimable, and endeared acquaintance, and so lost the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved.

I wonder if that regret and self-reproach ever turns into redemption, even after he could no longer hope for a union between him and Fanny Price. Maybe after everything, he still learns to be more just and upright--he can't unsee the goodness he saw in her. Maybe Fanny Price was the making of him after all?

#just a small optimistic thought #clary scribbles #Mansfield Park #Henry Crawford

[inkykeiji]

searched ur whole blog but could not for the life of me find the ask i was looking for so im wondering if it was a figment of my imagination😭😭

ANYWAYYY if reader had an older brother, like an older biological brother from her dad, that moved in with her when rei and readers dad got engaged, how would that go down with touya-nii? he’s very protective of his baby sister and even says so during the wedding when he points out that reader is *his*, not anyone else’s - so how would he handle reader having an older brother who’s hellishly overprotective over her and was there before him? would it affect the plot at all??

hey!! i believe the ask you’re looking for is this one right here! <3 but since you’ve specified that the biological older brother would be fiercely protective over reader, there’s definitely a little more detail i could go into here!

tw: stepcest, toxic relationship

touya’s behaviour in the situation would more or less be the same as the ask i linked you to, just dialled up to eleven. to touya, there’s nothing better than a good challenge, and this would be one of the best challenges of his fucking life. he lives to crush other people beneath the soles of his big black boots, and getting to crush reader’s biological brother—to ground him down to nothing but bone dust and pulsating flesh, to wear him fucking ragged—and prove once and for all that touya is the superior big brother in this family, in her whole life, would have his eyes alight with tiny sapphire infernos and his heart racing with heady exhilaration.

it would only change the plot in the sense that touya’s manipulation tactics and all that would be more aggressive in direct response to bio big bro’s increasing concern and attempted protection over you. as i’ve said before, touya doesn’t mind playing the long game if the prize at the end is worth it, and playing with his prey is half the fun—making them fall for him etc—but in this particular case he’d definitely have to ramp up his strategies to match those of bio big bro’s to ensure that touya wins.

but ultimately, touya would fucking relish in the fact that lil sis was falling for him despite bio big bro’s desperate attempts to put a stop to it.

watching the fight, the light, fade from bio big brother’s eyes as touya entrenches you further and further in his nasty little scheme is almost as beautiful as watching the love and admiration that brightens your own any time touya pays you a shred of attention, any time touya calls you his good little sister, any time touya pays you one of those cherished compliments or precious praises.

witnessing bio big bro go from vibrant and headstrong to exhausted and resigned is so delicious touya almost wishes you had a second biological big brother to take on, too, just so he could experience it all again. every wound to bio big bro’s pride restores more and more strength to touya’s: every sharp inhale/exhale of breath when touya puts his hands on you—a palm pressed to your lower back as he herds you wherever he wants you, slender fingers splayed, tips just shy of the swell of your ass; an arm thrown lazily over your shoulders when you watch television together or read beside him, offering the perfect little nook to snuggle into; a chaste kiss pressed to the crown of your head as he says hello or goodbye—and every flex of his jaw with each grind of his molars when touya murmurs secrets and commands to you in that silky smooth voice, deep and dark as decadent chocolate, evoking the sweetest little bubbles of laughter to erupt in your throat, such girlish giggles all shy and sugary, whole conversation always just a hint too low for bio big bro to comprehend...it all makes touya feel that much more powerful <3 he really is a fucking god, isn’t he? <3

#that ask is linked on my scribbles n sketches page under ‘imagine the drama that would ensue if reader had older siblings’ #thank u for ur question anon! <3 #hope ur having a fab saturday hehe #touya nii universe #inky.bb #clari gets mail

[desamoriei]

Eu queria um amor inevitável, daqueles que você simplesmente sabe que chegou em casa, que você pode respirar aliviada, pois entende que sua busca terminou e finalmente está preparada para lidar com tudo que houver pela frente. Um amor inevitável é aquele que você pode até tentar fugir, tentar se afastar por medo dos traumas que paixões efêmeras deixaram, mas esse tipo de amor ainda resiste, luta por você, te acompanha com cumplicidade, segura sua mão e te traz conforto nos piores momentos. Um amor inevitável é aquele que te ajuda a respirar quando o mundo te sufoca, mas também é aquele que ri com você de algum evento comum de um dia normal. Ele tá com você e isso já basta.

-Wake up, Clary

#wake up clary #scribbles #rascunhos #meus #mine #autoria propria #fy

[inkymikey]

clari ⭒ adult ⭒ the brattiest good girl wrapped in silk n lace ⭒ rly into Daddies and cum and Daddy’s cum  (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)  18+ only please n thanks!

main ⭒ aes ⭒ selfships

𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾 is scribbling in her notebook . . . waiting for mikey to carve all of his names into the flesh of my bum with his favourite knife :(

[spacetravels]

the flint siblings are the same in that talking to the girls they like makes them mentally shut down

#ocs #team matterday #monica suarez #caleb flint #blaise flint #clary kane #sydney nguyen #drew mendoza #amaje scribbles

[sasquach-scratches]

played around in CSP for a bit and decided the first thing I’ll draw would be my Skyrim boys because what else would I draw

#elder scrolls #skyrim #khajiit #breton #my scribbles #Colorful by Claris plays in the distance #my characters #i'm thinking the watercolor brush works well enough for me to color with #but maybe i should try it out on something that isn't a single-layer mess lol

[kaeyazuha]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

❝  Hello! May I request Childe, Zhongli, and Diluc with an s/o that deals with heavy suicidal thoughts? ❞

; My love, thank you for this request. I’m so happy you came to me with this- I hope I did okay, and I hope you’re doing better now.

; 1/18/22

; Hurt/Comfort

; CW: Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Physical Touch.

     𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 ‘𝗧𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗮’

✧ Having grown up with a large family, he’s seen his fair share of emotions. Overdramatic tantrums, wailing, screaming, crying, even a few threats of running away from home- though only one of them actually did so- but nothing compared to this. He may seem carefree and uncaring, but he’s a man of wit and intellect; it doesn’t take him long to catch on to your thoughts. Even if you never voice them, simply spacing out for a moment or two before shaking your head and continuing on with your day- he catches on.

✧ Despite how badly he wants to confront you, because what the hell, please don’t think that?? He doesn’t, because he knows full well that’s not a good thing to say. Childe takes awhile to process, but does small things to let you know that you’re not alone in this. All throughout the day, he’s giving you small reminders of how thankful he is for you, and does many things to try and make your workload easier. A few less papers on your desk, breakfast prepared for you, scribbled-out notes shoved in your pockets, even a warm towel in the dryer after you shower. He’s worried for you, and it shows- no, not just worried, he’s downright terrified for you. Even if they’re just thoughts, behind every thought lies the means to action. 

✧ He so desperately tries to be subtle, but after seeing you stare a little too long at the looming heights of Liyue, he’s grabbing your shoulders and turning you to face him with a pleading stare and pensive eyes. Please, please, don’t turn away- what happened to make you feel like this? Better yet, what can he do to help? He’s completely aware that there’s not a magic cure or a one-time thing he can do to make everything just go away, but he’s resilient; and annoyingly stubborn. He’ll sit down with you right there on the kitchen floor, the corners of his widened eyes glimmering with the first tears you’ve seen him shed, and he’ll hold you in his arms as he tells you about the wonderful life he sees for you. He could tell you about how incredible you make his life, but he wants you to know how lovely your life can be too. Your life will be good to you, he’ll make sure of it.

- ✧ -

‘What if I just…’ Your eyes glanced back over to the edge, curious gaze seemingly innocent as you wondered if it was potentially high enough to-

“(F/n)!” He yelled, gasping softly and gripping your shoulders as he bit his tongue- murmuring a small apology for the way he scared you. Childe sighed softly, lip caught between his teeth and eyes pensive. Gloved fingers trailed your shoulders before pulling you into his chest, the light scent of clary sage and some cologne he knew you like wafting through the air when he hugged you tight. “…Yes?” You hummed, suppressing the urge to let go and break down right there, instead patting his back with what was meant to be an amused grin- instead coming out as a warbled smile.

His hands trailed your back, nose nuzzling your cheek and he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours. “I may be a pretty face, but I’m also not stupid.” He mused, though it wasn’t hard to miss the lingering fear in his eyes. “You’ve been going through some things, yeah?” He paused, rubbing small circles into the small of your back as your shoulders started to quiver, throat aching from swallowing back so many tears. “…Yeah, I know. I know, angel, and I’m sorry.” You let out a watery laugh, bringing a hand up to rub your eyes. It was strange, seeing him so…sincere.

“For what, the ‘blessings of the archons?’ Apparently this life is the best the archons have to offer.” Your breath hitched when you scoffed. “Makes the archons look bad if this is their best…” Childe’s lips tugged up into a small smile, the smallest sense of relief instilled in him from your attempt at a light joke. He held you impossibly closer, rocking back and forth in tune with the gentle winds brushing over the land. He didn’t speak for a few moments, opting to hum an old Snezhnayan lullaby in your ear- shoulders finally relaxing against you when he felt the way you buried your face in his shoulder. The dam broke at last, he silently rejoiced- thumb reaching up to stroke away the salty tears wetting your cheeks.

“There it is…ah, never thought I’d be happy to see you cry.” He laughed lightly, kissing the tip of your nose. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, angel. If you were always strong, then there’d be no room for improvement. Then life really doesn’t have a meaning.” Tartaglia paused once more, exhaling shakily. “I know it sucks right now, I know- but please think about all you might miss, the things you can do. You can get stronger, you can prove yourself to whoever, and don’t forget me- who else will I fight?” You laughed into his shirt, fist hitting his shoulder lightly. He laughed once more, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “…Who else will I love, hm? It sounds selfish, but I want to see you get better. I want to see the day you really enjoy life, take you on a date that makes you swing your legs and giggle like a child- so you can’t give up yet, okay? We’re going to fix this, and you’ll enjoy breathing again. 

“Chin up, comrade, you’re going to be okay.”

     𝗭𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶 '𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘅’

✧ If there’s one thing Zhongli knows more than he knows you, it’s time. He’s lived thousands of years- through golden eras and ages of depression, wars and triumphs, he’s seen all that humanity has to offer. Despite that, as his hand runs up your back, he still finds himself surprised at how cruel life manages to be. To him, you are a work of art- thousands of colors carefully painted, mixed, and melded to create the perfect masterpiece. Yet, over time, the paint starts to chip until the vibrant colors become muddled and dull, small details covered by the imperfections and scars left behind.

✧ But that doesn’t make you any less beautiful, he remarks. Even with the chips, cracks, and scars- the true beauty of you still manages to show, and that’s more than enough of you to make up for everything you’ve lost about yourself. His words don’t really make sense at first, your head still too clouded to fully process. And so, he waits. Time passes, but rather than cracks and scars left behind, touches light as a feather trace your skin with the tenderness of a gardener tending to the petals of a lily. Zhongli is many things, but most of all, he is patient. He waits for you to be ready to share your burden, and he waits for you to let him in. 

✧ Unexpectedly, he doesn’t show much reaction to your thoughts. A small smile tugs at his lips and– was that a tear? It was hard to tell as he closed his eyes, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Don’t be fooled, he takes all your words to heart, and has many restless nights as he tries to come up with all the ways he can help you- all the different ways to help you enjoy life again. He can’t exactly blame you for the way you think- after all, what he did as an archon wasn’t too much different than simply dying. Pulling away from his responsibilities and essentially abandoning what he was blessed with as an archon. Thanks to this though, he’s learned to appreciate the little things- and he helps you do the same. The light scent of glaze lilies that make breathing so pleasant, the warm touch of his hands holding yours, and the soft whispers of affirmation let you know that eventually, everything will be okay. It’ll be okay.

- ✧ -

“My dear, can you look at me?” Zhongli hummed under his breath, leaning forward to catch your gaze- his thumb and index finger coming up to tilt your chin upwards a bit. He smiled warmly, planting a kiss to your forehead and silently noting the way tears pricked at your eyes. “You’ve been…thinking a lot, haven’t you?”

You tilted your head away before turning it right back, giving him a smile and playfully ruffling his hair- silently praising yourself at how well you recovered. “Well, haven’t you? A lot has happened lately.” He nodded, seemingly about to indulge in another one-sided conversation on the history of Liyue’s economics before he turned himself to face you- raising an expectant eyebrow with almost an amused grin.

“That’s very true, but I heavily doubt that’s what’s on your mind, my love. I don’t expect you to tell me everything, I understand how that would weigh on your conscience…it’s a terrifying thought, to think of the things you do. It worries me.” He admits with a deep sigh, cupping your cheek and smiling at the way you nuzzle into his touch- thumb stroking your cheek and then resting on the quivers of your lips. “But that’s alright. We’ve been through many hardships together, do you recall? I still remember how widely you grinned after the first battle we fought together- Azhdaha.” A watery laugh left your lips, recalling how frantically you’d run around even with his shield so secure around you- just like the hold his arm had on your waist.

“You can hurt, my dear. Everyone hurts, many not as deep as you do, but we all hurt. And we take time, reveling in many different thoughts- that doesn’t mean you can’t recover. There’s still many aspects to this life that you can enjoy. You shine like gold in my memories, but metals rust over time- that’s why we make new memories, and then new memories after.” Your throat burned, hiccups and choked-back sobs clawing at your insides- he hushed you gently, bringing you into his embrace and hiding your face from the outside world that’s been so cruel to you. Zhongli kept one hand atop your head, secure and warm as the other traced trails and shapes along your back.

“You are not a lost cause, (F/n). You are not broken, nor are you replaceable. I will not deny how unforgiving and cruel the years can be, but I also won’t deny the joy and euphoria those same years can bless us with. You’re here with me, aren’t you? You are easily the best thing that’s happened to me, and I do hope the very same for you.” His voice trailed off, clearing his throat and letting out a small, shaky sigh before continuing. “I love you, my dear. I’m not giving up on you, please don’t give up on yourself. It’ll take time, but we have time- so don’t give up, not until you can truly smile once more.”

     𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿

✧ Out of everyone, Diluc takes this the hardest. Just the mere thought of you leaving- just the image of your limp body on the ground is enough to send chills down his spine. Though he does his best to suppress it, taking in a deep breath and trying to divert your attention. He’s not blind, he’ll say, he’s seen the way your gaze lingers on the cliffs of Mondstadt, how your hand rests on the hilt of the kitchen knife a bit too long- he sees it. But he’s not angry, he’s not filled with pity or sympathy- he’s just sorry. He’s sorry that life failed you like this, he’s sorry that people left when you needed them most, he’s sorry for all the things you’ve gone through, but he’s most sorry that he hasn’t been there for you to tell him this sooner.

✧ The first thing he does is call Charles, letting him know that he won’t be there to tend to the tavern tonight, and then he’s pulling you into his embrace and offering you a warm smile. ‘Let’s fix this.’ He’d whisper. One of Diluc’s most recognizable traits is how stubborn he is- refusing to back down from battles, grudges, hardships, anything life throws at him. So he’ll stay through it all. Through the days you cry and yell, where you’re too tired to even get out of bed, where he holds you in his arms and tries to fill your head with dreams instead of the poison you endure, through every high and low. He knows this isn’t something he can fix straight away, so he does his best to make it tolerable until it goes away. When you stare off the ledge for a bit too long, he’ll stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pointing up at the birds flying overhead instead of the jagged rocks lying beneath the cliff.

✧ When the thoughts become unbearable, he lets you in on a few thoughts of his own. Thoughts he’s had about the future he wants to share with you, all the accomplishments you’ve accomplished, all the silly dreams he’s had about the days that lie ahead- some make you laugh, and some are so beautiful that tears flood your eyes. If you look carefully, you’ll see the same tears pricking at his eyes as he explains how beautiful your future can be if you’ll continue to persevere, if you’ll just hold on a bit longer. Don’t sit idly though, he won’t let you- maybe he’ll help you get back into an old hobby, or maybe he encourages you to chase after a new dream- Diluc does whatever he needs to help the both of you keep moving forward.

- ✧ -

“You…want to…what?” Diluc muttered, hands tightly clenched together where they rested in his lap- staring at you with what he hoped was subtle enough to not look like shock- though his hopes were in vain. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” You sighed, assuming the same position as him- but your hands were loose; clammy, limp, and trembling slightly in your lap. He sighed softly, moving to sit beside you, repositioning until he sat behind you and held you to his chest. Diluc’s heartbeat pressed to your back- rapid and strong until it calmed down ever so slightly, his arms squeezing you into his embrace. He took a moment to process, scarlet red hair tickling your shoulders and eliciting a small laugh from you- which he silently reveled in.

“…And yet, you’re here. I’m assuming it’s not because you want to be, but let’s take that as a sign, yes?” He hummed, the scent of aged wine and black dahlia emanating from his coat that spread warmth over your skin. “I can’t say I blame you, I’m not too fond of life myself. It hasn’t exactly been pleasant…but I can’t complain either. I’ve found things to enjoy, just like you. I’ve seen the way you smile so brightly in the presence of others, how you snuggle up to my arm when I try to leave in the mornings, how you laugh so happily when Kaeya jabs at me- I still don’t understand why-.” Diluc cleared his throat, voice cracking ever so slightly. “I’ve seen how happy you can be, love.”

“I’m not trying to excuse your feelings, I just want you to think about this.” His head rested on your shoulder, taking a moment to kiss away a few silent tears that trickled down your cheeks. “You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, don’t let this be in vain. You’ve worked hard for your accomplishments, your pride, your talents- and you’ve been happy many times. It’s not all lost just yet, darling. We’re not lost causes because of our pasts or tribulations- we just have to find ourselves and build ourselves again. It’s hell, but it’s worth it.” 

“But..what if it’s not? What if this just happens again?” Your voice was quiet, almost frail from the months of choked out sobs built up over time. 

“Then it happens again, and we fix it once more. You’ve been through so much, you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit- we can get through this. As many times as necessary, because you are worth that and so much more.” Diluc rested his head on yours, hands reaching for yours and holding them tight. “You are not done. You still have so much- your talents, your wits, your strength, you have me, and you have yourself. You have gotten yourself through so much. We’ll get you through this too- and you can be happy again, you can smile once more. It’s not over until you give up, so please…” He trailed off, voice cracking as he hid his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight.

“Please don’t give up. I love you, you deserve to feel that and all the other wonderful things in the days to come. I’m so proud of you.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Word Count: 2899

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

- Ky♡♡

#kywrites #childe x you #childe fluff #childe hcs #childe tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli x you #zhongli headcanons #zhongli hcs #zhongli x gender neutral reader #diluc fluff #diluc x you #diluc scenarios #diluc headcanons #diluc hcs #diluc x y/n #tw suicide mentions #tw suicidal thoughts #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #genshin scenarios #genshin angst

[august-anon]

Together

Posting ancient stuff from my backlog lol. Before I re-edited this recently, the last time I had touched this fic was June 11, 2021 lol. Hope you enjoy it!

----

Fandom: Shadowhunters

Ship(s): Malec

Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Magnus/Switch!Alec

Word Count: 1219 words

Summary: A playful, early-morning moment leads to a well-needed talk after everything that's happened.

[ao3 link]

------------------------------

Alec’s hand rubbed up and down Magnus’s upper arm, and Magnus could feel the smooth metal of his wedding ring with every pass. Alec’s other arm was trapped beneath Magnus’s side, their hands locked together on Magnus’s chest and Alec’s thumb brushed against Magnus’s own wedding ring every few moments. 

The late morning sun streamed through the curtains, creating pockets of warmth on the bed everywhere it touched. Neither of them had been asleep for a long time, but they hadn’t yet gotten up. It was the day after their wedding, after all, they had every right to lounge in bed however long they wanted.

Plus, this was the first quiet moment they’d had in… a long time. A lot had happened with very little break. Magnus’s loss of magic, the breakup, Asmodeus, Magnus sending himself to Edom, Alec showing up in Edom, planning their wedding the day after they got home, having their wedding -- and that wasn’t even counting the things that had happened directly outside of his and Alec’s relationship. Alicante, Lilith, Jonathan, Clary.

They hadn’t even gotten a moment to think, a moment to recover, a moment to talk. Magnus had barely had a moment to process everything that had happened. Now that he had a moment, however, he was beginning to wonder if staying busy so he didn’t have a chance to think about it all was actually the better choice.

Magnus wanted to stay in that bed forever, Alec wrapped around him, proving that this was real, they were real. He wanted to freeze that moment, with them content and drowsy and together. 

Of course, that was exactly when Alec started pulling out of the bed.

Magnus whined and rolled over to face him. He wrapped his arms tightly around Alec’s ribcage and tangled their legs together, preventing Alec’s escape. Alec chuckled and ran a hand down Magnus’s back.

“We need to get up,” Alec muttered into his hair. “I was gonna make breakfast.”

Magnus snorted. “You? Cook? Not without supervision.”

“Hey, I’m not as bad as Izzy! I can make waffles!”

Magnus grinned and tilted his head up so that their noses bumped together. “That you can, my dear. But you’re still not leaving this bed.”

“Fine,” Alec said. “But if that’s how you’re going to be…”

Magnus furrowed his brow, about to pull back slightly to give Alec an odd look, but Alec’s hands were suddenly scratching at his bare shoulder blades before he could. Magnus let out a startled squeal, jerking forward into Alec’s chest as he tumbled into giggles. He buried his face into Alec’s chest to hide how quickly his cheeks and ears started to go red.

“Alec, wait!”

Alec laughed into his bedhead. “Magnus, no!” He mocked, nuzzling his nose into Magnus’s hair.. “Until you’re ready to get up for the day, you get tickled.”

Magnus laughed helplessly for a few moments, his hands clutching Alec’s shoulders. Then, he decided that two could play at that game. He continued scrabbling at Alec’s shoulders, making it seem as frantic as possible, even as he slowly and deliberately started shifting his hands down. Magnus’s hands reached his destination: Alec’s back, right before the crease of his armpits.

Magnus attacked.

Alec’s own scribbling nails faltered as he yelped, jerking forward at Magnus’s careful finger-wiggling. Alec burst into hiccuping giggles and buried his face into Magnus’s hair -- which, Magnus might add, was entirely unfair, because the puffs of air glanced over his ears and tickled over his scalp in the most horrible of ways -- squirming much more than Magnus himself had.

“Not fair!” Alec cried out, even as he went back to tickling Magnus’s back.

“What’s not fair, Alexander?” Magnus asked, though his speech was wobbly and broken from his laughter. “I’m simply leveling the playing field.”

Magnus tickled a little closer to the creases of Alec’s underarms, and Alec squealed. His legs jerked where they were tangled with Magnus’s, trying to kick and failing thanks to the knot they were tied in. In retaliation, Alec’s hands moved further down, tickling at the backs and sides of his hips. Magnus choked on a gasp, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his laughter further into the column of Alec’s throat.

“Surrender!” Alec said.

“You first!”

Of course, Alec had to go and be mean after that. He used his evilly long arms to reach down to Magnus’s legs, scratching his nails against the muscles and fat of his inner thighs. Magnus tossed his head back, giggling hysterically, and stopped tickling Alec, choosing to instead push frantically at his shoulders to try and escape. Alec had even stuck with the lighter tickling theme, making the touch at such a vulnerable place all the more torturous and teasing. Magnus had always been especially susceptible to lighter tickling.

“Alexander, please!”

Alec had mercy, slowing down and moving his hands away from Magnus’s more ticklish places. The pads of his fingers trailed from the outside of Magnus’s mid-thigh up to the bottom of his ribs, then back down again. Magnus shivered at the touch, not enough to make him laugh, but enough to force a smile to tug at his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said, his tone suddenly serious, bringing his hand to a rest on Magnus’s hip.

Magnus peeled his eyes open, glancing up at Alec. He knew Alec didn’t mean the tickling, or even trying to leave the bed before Alec was ready.

“Alexander--”

“I never thought I’d hear that sound again,” Alec whispered, his eyes suspiciously damp. “Or see the way your eyes scrunched up when you laugh, or the way your nose wrinkles when you giggle.”

“I never thought I’d hear yours again, either,” Magnus said, his traitorous eyes welling up as well.

“I’m sorry.”

Magnus kissed him, firm and unyielding. “You’re already forgiven. Just... don’t do it again.”

“Magnus--”

“Alec, I would give up my magic for you a hundred times over. If I could go back in time and repeat that day, I would make the same choice over and over again. You are the most important thing in my life, Alexander.”

Alec sniffled.

“Yes, my magic is important to me, and it left a hole when I lost it. But, Alexander, you are my everything. I was nothing when I lost you.”

“I love you,” Alec croaked, pulling Magnus in close again.

“I love you, too,” Magnus muttered into Alec’s shoulder.

They laid there for a few moments, just holding each other. Reassuring themselves that the other was still here, that they were real, that it wasn’t all a dream. They laid there, regaining their composure, sniffing and subtly wiping at eyes until there was nothing left that they needed to brush away.

“I guess we can stay in bed a little while longer,” Alec said.

Magnus laughed a little, burying his nose back into the crook of Alec’s neck. “Sounds like the perfect morning, Mr. Lightwood-Bane.”

“I have to agree, Mr. Lightwood-Bane.”

Safe in Alec’s arms, feeling the smooth metal of Alec’s wedding ring on his skin with every caress of Alec’s hand on his back, Magnus dozed off. What was done was done, and they couldn’t change the past, but they had a long future ahead of them. And Magnus was determined that they see it through, together.

#tickle fic #My writing #shadowhunters tickling #lee!magnus bane #ler!alec #lee!alec #ler!magnus bane #ticklish!alec #ticklish!magnus #shadowhunters #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #malec

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

#ash morgenstern #ash x dru #dru x ash #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #clary fairchild #clary fray #clarissa fairchild #jace herondale #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #the secrets of blackthorn hall #tmi fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #tda fanfiction #cassandraclare #cassandra clare fan fiction #the shadowhunters chronicles #the shadowhunters chronicles icons

[alec-not-alright-wood]

The TMI gang, if I came out to them as trans:

Clary: I would cry during my coming-out and she would comfort me then, give me hugs and tell me that everything would be okay and that she would accept and love me as I am. Also we would have long talks about how I feel, while we drink hot chocolate and eat cookies. She would also paint something nice on my binder.

Jace: Coming-out would be so chill, I’d be a little scared at first, but then he’d reassure me that it’s no big deal. He would then go on and make as many trans-related puns as possible in each sentence (no offensive ones of course). Clary recently got him into cross-stitching, so he would cross-stitch a little knife into my binder.

Simon: He would be so happy for me that I finally found myself, and he would do movie nights with me, where he specifically picks movies with trans representation. He would scribble random Star Wars quotes on my binder next to Clarys drawings.

Izzy: After my coming-out, she would always make sure that I’m ok. She would invite me into her room and we would have sleepovers, because she would feel a little more calm knowing that I’m with her and that I’m safe. Simon told her about how everyone did something with my binder, so she would buy me a patch with the trans flag (with Clary’s help of course) and Jace would sew it into my binder.

Magnus: He’d be the biggest supporter ever. He would buy me said binder and look with me for clothes I would feel comfortable in. He would change the little tag on my binder and write “Everything you are is all yours” on it.

Alec: It would be a little awkward at first, but not that ‘uncomfortable awkward’, more like ‘loving awkwardness’, yk? He’d educate himself on the topic and he would make sure that my correct pronouns and my correct name are used on the Institute files. He would also hear from the others that they wrote/drew things on my binder, and he’d be a little scared before asking me, if he could write something too. I would let him of course and he writes “Don’t let the world change you, because you’re going to change the world”

(btw, I don’t even know if you can do these things to a binder, I never had one [I WISSSH] but let’s just pretend you can🥲)

#coming out #headcanon #tmi headcanons #tmi gang #clary fairchild #jace herondale #simon lewis #isabelle lightwood #magnus bane #alec lightwood #the shadowhunter chronicles

[domxmarvel]

Don’t do that again

Masterlist

Requested by: Anon

Pairing: Isabelle lightwood x Fairchild!Fem!Reader        

Words:474  

Request: Isabelle Lightwood x female reader some angst & smut. Maybe reader is Clary twin sister. Things go sideways on a mission and reader gets hurt. Izzy freaks out.

"Y/N listen to me,just keep your eyes open. Just focus on me" She cried out,holding you hand close to her,you could feel her heartbeat which was rapid. 

This mission had gone wrong,you underestimated Valentine and were quickly outnumbered. But somehow managed to fight them off. Everyone was searching trying to find him with no success,you decided to regroup and head back to the institute. 

"Clary can you portal us back?" Jace asked,to which your sister began scribbling something on her hand. She finished the portal just as you felt something behind you. Quickly turning around,you saw Valentine just as you felt a sharp pain. Even Though you were in pain,you needed to stop him even if it meant giving up your own life. Grabbing his arm,you jumped through the portal. The shadowhunters at the institute quickly ambushed him and locked him up. He was finally captured,you finally rest. You felt your eyes and body get heavy with each second.

"No,no Y/N" Isabelle picked you up "What were you thinking!?" 

"That I couldn't let him keep hurting everyone I care about. If I didn't stop him here who knows what he would've done,who he would've hurt." She sighed "And I couldn't let him hurt you" You whispered,slowly closing your eyes.

~ Isabelle's pov~

Grabbing my stele I activated her healing rune but it wasn't working. My hands started shaking 'was there nothing I could do'. I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder 

"Isabelle" looking up I saw Magnus, he quickly knelt down and started using his magic. Holding Y/N as Alec pulled me away. 

"Alec" I was about to pull away when Clary walked up to me. 

"She'll be alright,she's my sister,she's tougher than she looks." She hugged me. We were waiting to hear something,anything. After a few minutes Magnus walked out,I immediately bolted up.

“She’s alright”He quickly reassured me and I ran past him,into the room. 

~~Y/N pov~~

Opening your eyes,you quickly closed them when it was too bright.

“Y/N” Opening your eyes again,you noticed that the lights were dim. You sat up.

“Izzy” Pulling her closer to you,you kissed her. She slowly climbed on top as your hands moved under her shirt. She pulled away.

“Don’t you ever do that again” She kissed you again before you could respond. 

“Are sure we should be doing this right now? Here?” 

“It’s okay,everyone is too occupied with Valentine. They won’t even notice”Her lips quickly moved to your neck. “And now i can tell everyone that my girlfriend was the one that captured our biggest threat”You could feel her smirk into your neck,she was gonna be bragging about this till the end on time.

#isabelle lightwood x reader #isabelle lightwood imagine #Isabelle Lightwood #izzy lightwood x reader #izzy lightwood imagine #izzy imagine #shadowhunters x reader #shadowhunters imagine #domxmarvel

[clarythericebot]

How to Rewrite Wish

I made a chart! :) I'm not great at chart-making yet, but I wanted to make a visual description on the major decisions people who decide to rewrite Wish usually have to make and what those individual decisions connote. Mostly because I'm also thinking of making a Wish rewrite^^

Explanation of chart under the cut:

I think the most significant decision you make about a Wish rewrite is how happy the Kingdom of Rosas is at the beginning of the film, because that in turn limits the choices you have of the dynamic between Asha and Magnifico.

Here are the options:

The Kingdom of Rosas is genuinely happy - Asha is misguided and must correct her worldview - King Magnifico is a sympathetic antagonist. This would frame Magnifico's actions in the film as actually good (and there can be an argument about that - you're essentially trading your ambition for a lifetime of security and a *chance* to get your wish granted - even if you disagree with it) or, you'd have to shift the nature of wishes and Magnifico taking them to be less sinister in the film. This choice lowers the stakes and may paint Asha in a pretty bad light, considering that it'll be her actions that disturb the peace. However, this storyline arguably gives the most room for internal growth, and the stakes can be heightened in different ways (for example, the kingdom is happy, but the people dearest to Asha aren't). You can also make full use of Magnifico's tragic backstory here and what led up to the building of the city of Rosas in the first place.

The Kingdom of Rosas is a secret dystopia - Asha is correct and must find a way to correct other people's worldview - King Magnifico is a sympathetic antagonist. This is essentially the original's set-up, though it failed in its execution by never quite committing to its premise. I suggest, then, that people who select this choice double-down on it to avoid Disney's mistake. Make Rosas' dystopia-ness a secret, and not something someone could figure out if they thought about the kingdom's wish-granting system for more than ten minutes. Probably make it more sinister while you're at it--for example, one YouTuber added that taking away wishes drained your life force. Have Asha be determined to free all the wishes from the get-go, and to get people to rally behind her despite her doubts. And have King Magnifico follow through on his redeemable qualities (maybe pairing his need for control with his chaotic past). Also, Asha still needs to grow somehow. I think this is a good reason why many people seem to like making her personality shyer in their rewrites--her goal is to rally the people, and she just doesn't have the charisma of Magnifico. That's one example of a good internal and external obstacle for this plot line.

The Kingdom of Rosas is a secret dystopia - Asha is correct and must find a way to correct other people's worldview - King Magnifico is completely evil. The above, only this time, you make Magnifico an all-out villain who knows exactly what he's doing. The best way to do this is probably to cut out his implied tragic backstory, or to reveal later that he was lying about it the whole time. That way, you could lean into Magnifico's malevolence in a fun, classic Disney way without being hindered by the thought that he might actually have a point. You also now have the opportunity throw evil Amaya and their cat into the mix.

The Kingdom of Rosas is blatantly sad - Asha is correct and must find a way to correct other people's worldview - King Magnifico is completely evil. In this version, there is no chipper 'Kingdom of Rosas'--the sadness exists here without a facade, as a powerful sorcerer king forces everyone to give their wishes over by the age of eighteen to fuel his power and there's nothing anyone can do about it. It's a much sadder beginning, and you have Asha start in a position more similar to Cinderella and Snow White, but on a larger level. However, that could show her holding on to hope no matter what, and trying to save both herself and her people. I would also argue this is the version where having the Star Boy iteration of Star would make the most sense. While he's a definite possibility in all versions, in the other ones, the conflict is mostly focused on Asha and Magnifico. Because Magnifico in this case is a more flat character (in this case, all he has to do is be fun, like Ursula! Not much depth required in that) Star Boy can function as the character that challenges Asha the most--for example, how this Tumblr user suggests that Asha could've ultimately been pessimistic despite being desperate enough to wish on a star, and Star Boy coaxes hopefulness out of her. It would then be matter of working together to take down Magnifico.

I hope this helps somehow, if you're thinking of doing a Wish rewrite! I'm definitely not saying these are the only options--I just put this together as what I think would be the most logical conclusions depending on which Rosas you pick.

And if you're curious--

The iteration that appeals most to me is #1, mostly because At All Costs sold me on how Magnifico ultimately has good intentions (and the movie never takes that nor his tragic backstory back). I'd have his Asha be his and Amaya's daughter--who sees that the vibrant peace and prosperity of Rosas, the way people willingly give their burdens and their wishes to her father, and thinks, I want to do that. She, unfortunately, is not nearly as powerful as Magnifico (that's where Star Boy comes in). I'd have Asha and Magnifico then have twin desires for power, both with the best of intentions, and twin tendencies to be a touch arrogant. I'd also have Magnifico and Amaya be 100% devoted to each other--I know everyone is wishing for a Disney villain couple, but I for one would adore a good!couple that are in love years into their marriage. The book still plays a role in turning Magnfico evil, though it wouldn't be as permanent as the film. And I'd want the theme to be more blatantly the difference between wishing for yourself vs wishing collectively with others.

#clary scribbles #Wish #Wish rewrite #Magnifico #Asha #Princess Asha #Amaya #Star #Star Boy

[inkykeiji]

anyway i have three (3) fyodor pieces to edit and two out of those three are impact play

#don’t ask me why two ended up being impact play i genuinely cannot tell you #that’s just where my mind went LMAO #they’re supposed to be scribbles but i think two are over 1k so #not rly scribbles anymore HAHA #the fyodor brainrot is so fucking STRONG lately #my best friend can attest to this #i talk her ear off about fyodor at least once a day #i haven’t today actually #but i probably will at some point #anyway the main point is i’m clearly obsessed with this man #this has been clari with the updates #<33

[desamoriei]

Eu pensei que conforme os anos passassem meu temperamento iria se assentar, assim como a areia se assenta em pedra ou a chuva se integra a um rio. Na minha vaga existência, eu cheguei a cogitar que o tempo levaria embora minha intensidade e deixaria um lugar mais sábio e calmo, vazio, mas calmo. De fato, muito do que eu costumava sentir partiu de mim, mas uma pequena chama, um impulso - agora raro - ainda dá as caras e me deixa a mercê de um rompante que me tira do limbo e me confronta em situações que pensei que não me abalariam mais. O tempo passou, mas quando é para sentir, eu sinto, e sinto com todo meu ser a ponto de ainda queimar.

Wake up, Clary

#scribbles #rascunhos #meus #wake up clary #autoria propria #preciso falar

[the-lighwood-who-lived]

How would you like you Tea? (Part 1)

Summary: Jace x reader fanfiction where jace meets this mystery girl at Java Jones. A mortal instruments fanfiction. I've never written this kinda fluff in my life.

Jace POV

I can’t stand the coffee at the institute cafeteria; it might as well be only milk. I thought they were supposed to be upping their game, with the new Clave official coming in next month. Anyways, I’m on my way to Java Jones to get a round on good caffeine for us (us being me, Alec, Iz, Simon, Clary and Magnus). I turned the corner and entered Java Jones, the strong smell of caffeine fogging my senses. I went ahead and placed my order and looked around for a place to wait. Every table seemed quite full, there was one though, with just a dark-haired girl sitting at it.

I went up to that table.

“Hey, may I sit here? There isn’t any place else free…” I trailed off as she looked at me. She was pretty beautiful, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, hazel eyes that looked deep into me, her skin a few shades darker than mine, she looked amazing. She had a book in her hand and tea on the table. Something lit up in me when I saw her. “Sure.” She said with a smile, and continued to read the book in her hand. Of course, I was soon getting bored. I looked as the dark-haired girl who was sipping tea while reading her book. I took a tissue and a pen and quickly scribbled the words “you are pre-tea cute” onto it and passed it to her.

She raised her eyebrows at me before reading the note. She rolled her eyes and crumbled the note, before tossing it in the dustbin…

I’m a Herondale, I won’t give up so easily.

----------

Time skip to next day

I came back to Java jones today, found the same table, same girl. I tried once again, this time, the note read “You, me and tea. I think it’s a winning combo.” She did the same she did yesterday.

Time skip

It’s been a week of daily notes to her, she still seems unfazed. This mundane is different, I want to see her every day, it’s a part of my routine now. I love the sparkle in her eyes as she reads the pages, her eyebrows scrunched up in concentration, how she absent mindedly reaches for her glass between chapters, how she smiles after every sip of hot tea. This time I sent her another note again. It read, “Don’t add honey to your tea, your already sweet enough”. She put this note aside too, but this time, I got a glimpse of a smile on her face. I felt a small crackle in me.I made her smile.

Time skip

It’s been almost a month now, she’s been reading all my tea pun jokes, folding them and putting them aside neatly, no more tossing it in the garbage. Today, I’ve decided to ask her out.

I place my usual order and sit at the table. She comes in a bit late today, she smiled at me before seating herself at the table. “Hey” I said, smiling at her.

“So, he speaks!” she said laughing.

“Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic, capable of both influencing injury, and remedying it.” I replied quite smugly.

She looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes, I loved it. “Did you just quote Dumbledore!?” she said excited. “Maybe” I said nonchalantly. We both subtly eyed each other before we started laughing.

“You definitely are quite something Jace Herondale” she said with a fond smile.

“well-“I cut myself short. “I never told you my name… who are you? Really?” I asked her. Deep in I was disappointed, kind of scared, was she not who she thought I was? I’m a Shadowhunter, how can I be so stupid, so carelessly falling for her.

“Cool it Jace, I can see the clogs working in your head. Don’t worry, I’m not a demon.” She said, smirking as she sipped her tea.

Before I could as her more, I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned to find Aline. “Jace, I’ve been searching for you, Alec told me you’d be here, I got to portal back to Idris in a few minutes, my mom sent me to introduce you…” she trailed off as she saw the dark-haired girl. “So, you’ve already met?” she asked looking at her. “Not really,” the girl replied before turning to me and continuing, “Jace I’m so sorry, I just wanted to see if you are genuine, so I didn’t tell you who I am. I’m Y/N Carstairs, Clave official, sent to the New York institute by the Consul.” My eyes widened as I put the pieces together. I should’ve guessed, the was she held herself high, her poise, the way she always covered her skin to cover her runes… by the time I zoned back in, Aline had left. Y/N looked at me with uncertain eyes. I did the first thing I could think of, something I’ve wanted to do since I met her. I kissed her.

After we broke off, she looked at me and spoke grinning, “So I’m guessing you forgive me?”

I jus nodded smiling at the most beautiful girl in the universe. “You didn’t order today.” I said,

“How would you like your tea?”

#Jace herondale x reader #tmi x reader #the mortal instruments #the mortal instruments x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunters x reader #bookish reader #Clave official reader #alec lightwood #izzy lightwood #magnus bane #clary fray #simon lewis #aline penhallow #carstairs mentioned

[juiciee]

HIIIIIII BESTIE *mwah mwah*

Cym as types of classmates.

I think you'll enjoy this tbh

HIIIII

Types of classmates huh. so like , if tumblr were a school-

That would be C H A O T I C

You- ugh youre the only person i have no idea about cuz like ?????who are you.

@clarys-heosphoros - the kind of person in the class who has pretty notes with all kinds of coloured pens and a fancy pouch with highlighters and shit like that. the kind of person everyone turns to when someone asks for a stapler-

@pretentious-piece-of-shit flirt. flirts with people very often. doesnt pay attention in class and probably has incomplete notes (irl storm is probably the quiet anxious kid tho)

@secret-eden the smart kid who can sometimes be the dumbest person on earth. the third bencher kid who is neither the teacher's pet nor the back-bencher. always has complete notes but would never give em to you unless your me. cause if you're me, eden loves you and is softie uwu

@whythefuckdoiexist pure ray of sunshine. probably the teachers fave? helps everyone, "you need notes? here take mine!" Can divide their life in phases based on the fandom obsession they had

@klutzyfox "(teacher nickname given by students) AA RHI HAI OYE BETH JAA BC AA GYI VO" wala kid. the one who goes on a bunk and no one knows where they went yes I'm still sore about the two days you went inactive without telling anyone

@crazyas-hell the poet of the class. who yearns. alot. Zones out alot and leaves pages to complete notes but never completes em

@whinysstuff has a small friend group. Yearns alot.

@iambecomeyourvillain @black-like-my-soul the two best friends who play cricket in the lunch break using foil and tiffin boxes.

@jurdan-my-beloved the therapist™. Probably also the class prefect who ignores rules sometimes cause kya hi ho jayega haina

@notsofabulouslife07 I imagine you exactly like your pfp-

@revvs-trash the doodler who is hella creative and is always scribbling some idea at the last page of the notebook that's just how I imagine you lol

I'm pretty sure I'm missing some of my moots but I'm out of braincells I can't think of what theyd be like so I'm sowwwwyyy

I do hope that this is what you wanted when you gave me this ask di

#how did i do? #if i missed you i probably dont know you that well? interact more i guess