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juminly · 4 years

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As The Rush Comes II (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: As the events of the night unfold, you finally find yourself at Theo’s apartment. Tension is high and your bodies are hot. Would this be the night you finally leave the friend zone? What happens after that...? Keep reading. You’re going to want to. Part I. AO3 Rating: Explicit/Mature (It’s smut, so...)

Word Count: 4170 approx. PS: It’s gonna be one sexy ride. Get ready... ------------------------------------------- Madonna was so right. Time goes by so damn slowly. You always wondered why that song always pissed you off and now, you knew why. It was so hard to breathe. The air is suffocating even as the cold breeze hits while you were speed walking out of the club. If only you could tear the dress off yourself, you definitely would’ve. It was so hot in there. It was so hot whenever he was near. The dress barely covered you but still, you were both denying yourselves the pleasure of even kissing one another. The possibility of both of you just losing yourself and succumbing to the overflowing desire that built up from months worth of sexual tension and frustration. Your chest felt so tight and your entire body was trembling with anticipation and excitement, as Theodorus laced his fingers with yours tightly, guiding you from the club to his apartment, which happened to be only a few blocks away. Tonight, you were going to have the best sex of your life. No… tonight would mark the day where you would continue to have the most incredible and mind-blowing sex of your life. That’s not right. Tonight, you’ll be getting the best you’ve ever had, ever will have. Why? You looked to your side, at the criminally handsome man that was holding your hand and leading you with a determination that you’ve seen before, when he talks about his passion for art… He wasn’t the type to express himself and you’ve spent enough time to be able to read in between the lines, the subtleties in his behaviour and especially… his expression. You always knew that you were hopelessly in love with this man… but never thought it was this bad. You were smitten, whipped and… insert every other word you can find in a thesaurus that would indicate that you were beyond prepared to sell your soul to Lucifer just to be with Theodorus. The only thoughts whirling in your head were of him and you couldn’t stop staring at him. Your cheeks might have turned into a pair of tomatoes if he actually caught but you didn’t give any fucks. Whatsoever. Yes, you might have been a bit inebriated, big squint on the “a bit” part but you were sober enough to be aware of everything that happened, was happening and was about to happen. Thrilled wouldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling, especially when you’ve been waiting for this for so long. No passing out this time, bitch. You better not.

“Am I going to have to carry you, Hondje?” You simply shook your head in response. “Come on, then. I don’t need the deadweight. We’re almost there.” His raspy baritone snapped you out of your daze and muttered a quick “I’m good” before picking up the pace as fast you could, practically jogging by his side through the narrow hall that would lead you to your destination. Now, that sounded like horny irritation and it was incredibly hot, to say the least, and you just absolutely loved hearing that in his voice. He wanted you as much as you wanted him and the bubbling in your chest felt like you had a bunch of small guppies in there, the thought making you giggle a little too loud. His long and hurried strides suddenly came to a halt and if it weren’t for his firm grip on your hand, you wouldn’t have fallen on his broad chest and gotten a good whiff of that intoxicating cologne of his. He was wearing that on purpose, right? To your defense, the lack of equilibrium was definitely not because you were trying to get classily drunk as you called, which meant wine drunk in your dictionary. He was guilty, of course. Handsomely and unapologetically the reason for your tunnel vision where you could only see him and the tsunami of sensations that eroded anything else that was not caused, done, inspired by him. He peered down at you with forced concern, clearly because he didn’t want to have to use the brain between his shoulders but rather be led by the one between his legs. His expression immediately softened and a reluctant chuckle resounded in his chest as you beamed up at him, with your chin resting on his chest in your horny happy state. You had that “I’m so happy I could suck you off right here and now” look on your face but this show had to go down in the privacy of your man’s home…? Yeah, YOUR man’s home! “I know what you’re trying to do, Hondje.” He breathed out with fake admonishment, shaking his head as he let go of your hand, proceeding to smoothly wrap his arms around your waist. While taking out his keys and unlocking the door to his apartment, boyish glee radiated from his face and the pale blush sprinkled over his cheeks and ears only spurring you further. Your small hands held on tightly to the white fabric of his button-down shirt, leaning on him and pushing every inch of your softness against his body. “Hm… Theo… You have no idea what I’m trying to do.” The moment the path before you was clear, you clung onto his collar tightly and shoved him into the apartment with all your force, making him stumble back until he entirely hit the wall at the entrance of his condo. Your bodies collided like two magnets indiscriminately attracted to one another, every ounce of your being practically vibrating as you slammed the door with a back kick of your heel as if you were offended that you actually had to bother to make that action. Not the wisest move on your end. The impulsive nature of your actions caused a loud smack that made you jolt in surprise and trip, slamming into Theo, knocking the breath out of him while prompting an irresistible rumble in your lover’s chest. This is definitely not how you expected the night to go but seeing him laugh so carefreely made your heart soar to horizons that you never thought you’d reach. Excuse yourself, Redbull. You and your bullshit lies. Did wine give you wings? Or was it Theo? Well, was it a failed attempt to take the lead? Probably. You know nothing called failure, the man of your dreams was in your arms. Your motto now was : never say never! You lowered him to your lips forcefully, his hands settled firmly on your hips to balance himself as he leaned to meet you, allowing you to capture his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking on it aggressively, inciting a marvelous grunt from him. He didn’t necessarily “allow” you to do anything, per se, since you weren’t planning on taking no for an answer. With one hand snaking to his nape, lacing through gold streaked chestnut and tugging roughly while your other hand reached for his manhood, hard and begging for your attention. You squeezed generously and Theodorus hissed against your lips, his fingers painfully enveloping your wrists, making you cry out before spinning around and pinning to the wall with his hips. Fuck… fuck… He was already so hard and you felt his erection against the thin fabric of your dress as he rolled his hips against you with such diligence and so much worse that his tantalizing demonstrations in the club. He let one of your wrists go, bending slightly but never breaking your kiss to hook his arm under one of your knees and then the other, the spot where you needed him the most meeting his hardness in abrasive delight. It was now your turn to let out a mewl as he ground against you, humping you against the wall while his mouth ravaged yours, biting on your lips and claiming dominance as he slid his tongue inside. Your kiss was whiskey, wine and simply pure sin. You tried to fight. You really did but just feeling him graze your sensitive spot over and over again had you your body screaming for more and growing weaker by the second. You tried to break the kiss to take a breath, he gnarled a threatening “Breathe through your nose”and silenced you with his lips. Breathe him in. Breathing him in was all that you could do. All you wanted to do. You were not even out of your clothes, not even on his bed, barely touched by him and your imminent release was not close enough. Threading your fingers through his chestnut locks, you tugged at his hair with all your might, pulling him away from you forcibly before he latched onto your neck hungrily, licking a long wet strip across the column of your neck before nipping at the sensitive spot right under your jaw and sucking hard. “Ahhh Theo!” your gasps grew louder as your breath quickened. That was going to leave a mark and it was gonna last for a few days, definitely. Not that you cared or even wanted to cover it. No, no… You wanted to actually flaunt it. Whatever anyone else thought, they can suck it. Cause you definitely were planning on doing some sucking. His momentum became erratic, his clothed hardness continued to rub against your swelling core, the thin layer of fabric that separated you from him worsening the throbbing. With a sinful snicker, his masterful ministrations persisted as he peppered you with alternating nips and suckles, blowing on each bruised spot ever so gently, sending a pleasurable chill through you. You couldn’t help but squeeze him tightly with your thighs, trying to make him stop his vile grinding, momentarily refraining from the attack of love bites on your poor, poor neck. “Theo, please… Please… Let’s go to your room.” With a breathless scoff, Theodorus licked the line of your jaw to whisper, husky and low. “Since you were good enough to say “please”, I’ll entertain your request.” With a grin, his lips met yours once again in a lingering kiss, a little less urgent but passionate all the same, as he carried you with practiced and precise movements to his bedroom. Good thing he was able to do so blindly because you were not planning on letting go of him. You were already addicted to his taste and you still have yet to have more of him… all of him. He literally kicked the door of his room open that you almost… almost felt sorry for the poor wooden door that would most probably have an angry dent. But you absolutely didn’t care as you embraced him tightly against you, crashing your lips down on his and biting his lower lip and sucking on it with such bewildering tenacity that he groaned against your lips, his icy eyes flashing open as he had to tear himself away from your grip in order to set you down. “Fuck, Hondje… Are you planning to bite my lips off?” he growled against your lips, pulling away from you before you leaned in again, biting the air that separated you and giggling unceremoniously. “So that’s how it’s going to be.” His boyish smile had absolutely no semblance to the intensity that his eyes exuded. It was all a disguise and you could see it in the glint of mirth in his hooded orbs, making the rabbits in your stomach hop around hysterically. “You really think this is the time to be funny, hm?” he warned as he literally peeled your legs off him, his hands lingering a moment too long on your silky skin, leaning down to set you on the floor. He then wrapped strong fingers around your wrists, unhooking your arms from his neck. He took two steps back and let his weight fall on the edge of his king bed, sitting with his legs spread wide. “Strip.” One word. Just one word and your motor functions decided to fail in this crucial moment. You blinked a few times, standing completely still and feeling your heart fall into the pit of your stomach. Your body was the epitome of your insecurities and the fact that you had to reveal yourself willingly to him was exhilarating and horrifying. Leaning towards the former though. “...What?” “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself, Hondje.” He wetted his lips, his demeanour predatory. You told your heart to stop beating so fast, but it would not listen. You weren’t scared but more like… scaroused. Never had a man looked at you the way he had… Time to suck it up and get shit moving. “It’ll make things easier and faster if you do the same.” you cooed, voice laced with hope and arousal. You couldn’t help but tremble at the thought of seeing him out of those godforsaken clothes that he looked so fine with but you were sure… absolutely and positively certain from the glimpse that you got of his defined chest that he was most probably a god in the guise of a man. “I set the rules. Now be a good little pup and do as you’re told.” He leaned forward, rolling his shoulders as he propped his elbows on his knees and joined his hands together. Tilting his head, that was your cue to get the show started. You didn’t bother to weigh in the pros and cons in your head. He was already ravaging you with his eyes and you wanted to see how he would look like once he’s through with you. “Hm… is that how it’s going to be, Master Theodorus?” the corner of your lips drawing up seductively as you bent forward, giving him ample view of your cleavage, that you had your lingerie to thank for, while you unclasped the strap of one heel and then the other, kicking them off your feet. It didn’t go unnoticed when he heard Master, how the rise and fall of his chest grew a bit faster while he licked his lips and even bit his lower lip for the briefest of moments. Kink Unlocked! You were going to give in. Not because he asked you to, but because you wanted to. Sapphire burned into you, your sense of reality was distorted by thoughts of him and the utter sight of him. Entranced by each other, it wasn’t even a possibility to separate you or pull your gaze away. You knew very well what you both wanted. Melt into each other’s embrace and become one. And… in other words, fuck like there’s no tomorrow. “As you wish, Master. I’ll be your good Honje so tell me. What do you want me to take off first?” “Remove the dress. I’ll take care of your rest.” he demanded as he rearranged himself, his own erection clearly making him as antsy as you were. Seeing that he was clearly suffering as much as you were, you were definitely even more soaked now and trying to fight not to squirm and rub your legs together. Your cunt needed some sort of attention or else you were going to lose it. The moment he touches you… he would discover how much of a Hondje you truly were for him. Fuck him and his irresisitble… everything. Literally. He was a hard-headed bulk of tantalizing muscle that caused your blood to boil and turn into bubbling magma, his calculating gaze boring into you as a Master would to make sure their pet would do as they’re told. The thought alone made your body inconsequentially heat up with an undeniable surge of emotions that you couldn’t pinpoint. With a relaxed smile, you pushed down one sleeve to slowly hook your arm out, your touch breezing gently over your skin before you repeated the motion on the other side. “There’s no rush, Hondje. The more time you take, the heavier your punishment will be.” The huskiness of his voice was laced with lust and desire, but so much more. Crazed frustration and faux composure. If you didn’t get it, you were gonna get it… bad. You couldn’t afford to stall and suffer for an orgasm. You just wanted to do it, for heaven’s sake. You gripped the hem of your dress, pulling it down leisurely so you could wriggle yourself out of it, exposing yourself bit by bit to him. Your chest, waist and hips but sliding it all the way down the smooth length of your thighs. His lips parted to suck in a deep breath when your white strapless bra and matching underwear came into full view. He was clearly straining to remain composed as you were both drawing this out, far more than you both could withstand. Once your dress hit the floor, your Master called for you. “Come here, Hondje.” Your lower lip prisoner between your teeth, you ambled towards him with an intentional sway in your hips as you were slowly warped into the heat that radiated from him. Extending his arms forward in an inviting gesture to welcome you into his embrace, large hands smacked your behind, fingers splayed over your round cheeks, groping the soft flesh roughly and you yelped as he pulled you further between his legs, your chest on the same level as his head. He looked up at you and you didn’t dare look away. Were you dreaming? “You’ve been hiding all this from me, Hondje.” He nuzzled his face between your breasts while his hands fondled your behind roughly, his fingers tracing the seams of your lacy white panties and caressing the skin on the back of your thighs, inciting a tingling sensation to spread through you. “I haven’t been hiding, Theo. You just never made a move… Ah!” You gasped as he bit the top of your breasts, trailing wet kisses over your chest, he nipped and sucked on your skin mercilessly, cascading whimpers from you as he relentlessly coaxed them out of you like the handle of a music box. Every brush of his fingers on your skin, dipping along the valley of your lower back and tracing upstream to unclasp your bra, discarding the garment dismissively. Eyes shining brightly, Theodorus snuck a quick glance at you before marveling at the soft mounds before him. He rubbed a soothing hand on your back, a silent gesture of reassurance filled with so much… love? His hands pressed against your frame, urging to get even closer, bringing your breasts right to his mouth. “You’re perfect, mijn liefje…” He mumbled with such reverence… which you didn’t expect. He knew more than anyone and could tell what you were thinking without you having to say anything. Warm breath hovering over one of your breasts before he extended his tongue, languidly rolling it around the pearly bead before sucking on it fiercely, the dichotomy of his approach coaxing soft sighs as you felt his other hand finding your behind once again, hooking his finger under your lacy whites, dragging them down with the light stroke of his knuckles over every inch of you he could reach before letting the nuisance fall. “Theo… Mhm…” you tried to protest in vain. Staring up at you with an arrogant smirk, he proceeded to lick around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple, chuckling at the sound of your loud hiss as he continued to alternate between soft blows to cool your skin and licks that warmed you. Your body trembled under his gentle displays as he paid the same exact attention to your other breast, leaving a trail of love bites on his way from one to another. You placed your hands on his shoulders while you lifted one leg and then the other to straddle him. Your fingers shakily stroked his neck when you noticed him flinching as you touched the spot right under his ear. His breath caught in his throat and if you weren’t so intent on watching his every movement, you wouldn’t have been able to see it. Tonight, he was the artist, painting you with marks of unspoken secrets. “Verdomme… I don’t even have to touch you to see how wet you are. What a naughty little thing.” He rasped as he let go of your nipple that was held captive in your mouth. About what he said? He wasn’t wrong. Definitely not. You were so damn soaked and his advances didn’t fail to make even more of your arousal pool and drip from your aching core. “You’re the reason why I’m so wet, Master.” you groaned in response to his teasing, leaning down to ensnare him however you could, sucking on his thin lips, his tongue or anything you could get her mouth on. He tasted so fine, so exquisite, more delicious than aged wine that you loved to a fault, you were so drunk on loving him and craved his yearning and his passion for you. You planned on feasting on him but you knew for a fact that it would be the other way around. Not that you were complaining, you were ecstatic about that fact. With his hands fondling your supple cheeks once again, Theo pulled you down on him, the fabric covering his skin only increased your frustration as you began to grind against him and he reciprocated, trying to inch closer to what you both sought. Yet, it was not only pleasure that occupied your mind but… It was not only his body you craved. Your freneticism was taking over you, enraged that he was still clothed when you laid completely naked in his lap. You cursed his damn blouse in your head and swore to rip it off him before your fingers managed to fiddle through it and slide the cursed garment away, sinking your nails over his skin as your lips never parted for a second. After his display of possession on the dancefloor, the way he moved his body against you, making you feel so vulnerable in front of prying eyes…. You were asking for this to happen… and you were thankful that he took the bait. You wanted him to be yours and claim him as such, or claim you, it didn’t really matter. His arms firmly pulled you to him, bestowing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, along the length of your neck and settling on your collarbone, suckling and biting on it with so much fervour. What was he doing to you? This was already so much and you hadn’t even started. You arched your back, biting your lower lip to suppress the moan that roused from you was in vain. All your efforts to resist him were naught. You were at his mercy. You didn’t even want it. You wanted to taste his almost wrathful need, unleash all he had locked up deep inside. Only for you to see and feel. Your voice echoed across the room, filling it with loud moans and your heavy breathing. If Theo didn’t have a good hold on you, you would have definitely fallen back. Your body was turning to putty, shaking in his embrace, whimpering softly then giggling as his lips found your ribcage. The warmth of his tongue against your chilled skin lit you up inside further, shivers running up and down your spine. Always so strategic and meticulous, upon discovering your weak spot, he chuckled devilishly and targeted it single-mindedly and you were already on the verge of losing your mind, already. He discovered how sensitive you were and how easy it was to get you over the edge, or at least, tease you enough to reach greater heights before crumbling as he insidiously pulled you back down. You wouldn’t let him have the fun though. You struck your nails deep into the skin of his shoulders, meandering down his back, gracing it with scratches that mostly probably bled. Pride swelled in your chest as you heard low grunts emanating from the depth of his chest. If you were in any other situation, you would’ve been scared but you knew he was going as crazy as you. Your breathing quickened as your heart began doing somersaults in your chest, looking down into ocean eyes, inviting and wicked, already submitting to her will and forceful ways. His hips never ceased their movement, grinding on you mercilessly, feeling the cock rub against your drenched folds. Your hands cradled the handsome visage that you had come to love while your fingers traced over his sharp jaw to the sensitive skin behind his ear. As his tongue expertly slid down the column of your neck, whines and moans unintentionally escaped from your puffy and reddened lips. He groaned against your skin with each beautiful sound you made and whined as you kissed him under his ear, feeling him shudder beneath you and his motions becoming less coordinated. “Y/N…” You… You were able to make him weak and hear him call out your name with such unbridled need. More... More… You needed so much more. --------------------------------------------- Link to PART 3.

Tagging le Theo simp squad + tag list: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf @kisara-16 @ikefool @cinnatwisted Thank you to my wifey @shhhlikeme for her support! 💜 Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

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bxttenbound-archive · 3 years

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@automaton-otto asked: Jeanne lacking any kind of subtlety whatsoever kicks the door open to Missi's home, "Alright, let's cut the crap and get on with this. People are dead, evidence points at you, why do you do what you do?"

“ Evidence? Pray tell, what evidence does a child have? “ Raising a brow, she’d snap her fingers as the statues around the room would spring to life, moving their limbs and being ready for a fight. “ You really shouldn’t break into someone’s home and make such accusations, Child. I am not the only vampire here, nor am I the only creature that hunts pathetic little humans. I’ve very much had enough of your kind breaking into my home with no respect for the laws you hold us to follow. Just because you are some ‘divine’ hybrid doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you wish. No God or Angel has right over this home. “

#automaton otto #Delicious Knowledge // IC

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one-boring-person · 4 years

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Hey I was wondering if you could maybe write something where David meets his just turned vampire mate, after she gets hurt, scared and chased by the Frogs or some other hunters? I'm really in the mood for some angsty stuff😂 💕💕💕

Gotta love some good old angst! Thank you for requesting, I hope this is satisfactory!💛❤

Goddamn Hunters.

David (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: violence, blood imagery, vague mentions of death

Masterlist.

A sharp yelp escapes me as my knees connect with the pavement yet again, a familiar pain spiking up through the thoroughly abused muscles of my legs, a sensation which still surprises me, seeing as I should be able to heal in no time. Breathing harshly, I scramble back to my feet, ignoring the protest of my legs and lungs, focusing on the adrenaline racing through my system as I sprint along the deserted road, newly enhanced eyes searching for a place to hide, sensitive ears picking up the sound of my pursuers behind me, their taunting voices mingling with the other, more distracting noises of the night, music from the Boardwalk somehow audible to me, even though I'm a good twenty minutes away. All of this, combined with the vibrant scents and putrid stenches of the town around me disorients me, sending my head into yet another spin, my terror and panic not doing anything to help with this, only adding to the hysteria going on inside me.

I have no idea who the two older men who are chasing me are, but the two younger ones? Those two I know very well - Edgar and Alan Frog, my ex-friends. They'd found me roaming the Boardwalk, scratching at my ears and eyes, overwhelmed by the barrage of strong smells and loud sounds, as well as the overbearing need to feed, completely thrown off and unsuspecting when they lured me away from the crowd, back to their new friends, who promptly started trying to pin me up against a wall, stakes brandished under my chin. None of them expected me to fight, and honestly, neither did I, but my instincts kicked in and I was able to wriggle my way free, allowing me to run off, away from the danger. Their voices are harsh and gloating, aware that I'm not as old as they might've originally thought, this idea giving them an incentive to let the hunt last longer than it should, keeping their eyes on me as I continue to hurtle along the streets, trying to remember how I'd managed to make myself fly the night before.

I turn a corner, skidding on the tarmac as my shoes struggle to get a grip, nearly sending me flying into a cluster of bins a couple of metres away, my hands flinging out to catch myself before that can happen, grazes appearing on the soft skin there as I use them to push me upright again, only to stop suddenly when I realise that the road I've entered is a dead end, my heart dropping in my chest, panic and despair flooding me, their voices and footsteps coming ever closer. Clenching my fists, I turn back to the corner I turned round, breathing heavily through my parted lips, the cool air feeling odd against my sensitive gums, my fangs threatening to push through them again, it I try to repress this urge, remembering the pain that accompanied them last time, my eyes fixed on the road, blood starting to well up in my palms from where my nails are digging into my flesh. Terror courses through me, my breath hitching as I see my pursuers finally round the corner, wide grins forming on their faces as the spot me, their pace slowing into cocky strides.

"Well, well. Look what we have here." One of the older men, a scarred man with long, oily black hair and only one eye, comments, whistling lowly at my appearance.

"You get the wrong turn, leech?" The other, a broad, muscular guy with gelled dirty blonde hair, taunts me, raking his eyes up and down my body with no subtlety whatsoever.

I remain silent, my eyes wide as I try to figure out how to get out of this mess, only coming up with one idea. Taking a breath, I rush forwards, intending to leap over them, seeing as I have some sort of supernatural power now, only to be hit with a small, plastic device, which promptly explodes into a mist of stinging liquid, a shriek of agony erupting from my throat as i fall to the floor, clutching at the bloodied, burnt skin of my face and hands, tears threatening to spill as the pain continues to harass me, my body shaking violently. Smirking, the older hunters stroll over to me, muttering something about "holy water grenades", one of them toeing at my body, trying to roll me onto my back, only to cry out in surprise when I grab hold of it in a fit of rage, pulling the limb to my face where I bite into the tough flesh. Instantly, my face contorts into the horrifying features that have plagued me for days, bloodlust clouding my vision as I growl into the leg, only to yelp when the guy lands a solid kick straight to my face, breaking my nose as I reel back, screaming in pain.

"You two, pass me those stakes we made earlier." The black haired hunter commands the Frog brothers, holding out a hand for the two kids to fill with carved wooden spikes. Grinning cruelly at me, he kneels beside me and pushes me onto my back, straddling my chest with his knees pinning my arms down, the other hunter coming over to hold down my legs as I struggle and writhe beneath them.

"I think someone needs to be taught a lesson in etiquette." Black Hair hisses at me, taking my right hand and stretching it away from my body, splaying my fingers as much as he can, "Most people shake hands when they first meet, but you didn't, so that is something that needs to be corrected."

As he speaks, I can only watch in terror as he angles a stake over the centre of my palm, smirking before he drives it down, straight down into the soft skin that protects the bones of my hand, blood spilling from the wound even as screams of agony spill from my lips. Disabled, my hand lies there simply, the wooden weapon stuck through it, not quite holding it in place, but left there to continue making me feel pain, the hunter swiftly doing the same to my other hand. Gasps and whimpers of pain leave me, my fingers curling and clawing at the crude spikes, something about them making my blood feel as if it is made of acid.

"And now for the finale." The hunter informs me, holding yet another stake over my chest, panic giving me some energy as I scream for help, hoping someone will hear me, only to be stopped by a hand pressing tightly over my mouth. Slowly, ever so slowly, the weapon is forced into my skin, shrieks of agony being muffled by the guy's hand, tears coating my cheeks as I realise how hopeless the situation is.

A sudden gasp for air snaps the hunter's attention away from me, his head turning to look over his shoulder, a curse leaving him as he notices something: his partner is no longer there. To my left, the Frog brothers look equally as confused, though they also look absolutely terrified, a horrified scream tearing itself from them as a body suddenly drops from the sky, the alluring scent of blood making my fangs push out of my gums, my own blood spilling down my chin as their razor-sharp points slice into my lower lip.

Startled, the first hunter pushes himself up, glancing around himself quickly, eyes wide and expression uneasy, hand reaching for the gun at his belt, only to be violently pulled into the sky by some cloaked creature, a strangled scream following this a second later, the body joining the first after a minute or two. Shrieking in pure fear, the two Frogs take off, dropping their stakes and waterpistols on the floor with a clatter, leaving me incapacitated on the floor, two stakes shoved into my hands. From my position, I try to push myself upright again, only to squeal in agony as a wave of pain washes over me, my sharp eyesight only just picking out the sight of someone walking up the road towards me as my ears pick up a frustrated "goddamn hunters". As soon as I lay my eyes on them, something sparks to life inside me, an odd feeling I can't understand, though I do keep my eyes on the rapidly approaching figure, in hopes of recognising them and figuring out why this sensation has made itself known.

Stepping into view, my rescuer instantly stops in his tracks, icy blue eyes widening as he sees me. He is ridiculously good looking, platinum blonde hair styled into a mullet, long black coat hiding his muscular body from view, skin pale yet stained with blood in the dim light. For a few seconds, we just stare, until the fear kicks in again and I start trying to edge away from him, wincing in pain, my eyes widening in worry as he starts to near me, only to stop when I hear his voice.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you! I just want to help." His voice is like honey, rich and smooth, and very pleasant to listen to, a longing sensation welling up in me, as if my body is willing me to go to him.

He steps further forwards, kneeling beside me with a concerned look in his eyes, hands instantly going to the stake in my left palm.

"This is gonna hurt, but it will heal quickly enough." He warns me, before yanking the weapon out of my skin, grimacing at the sight of the blood that rushes out afterwards, his eyes flashing yellow momentarily as I scream in agony, pulling my hand into my chest. However, an odd feeling starts to encompass the burning circles of pain, the skin looking as if it is knitting itself together again, even though I've done nothing to aid it.

"Ok, one more. You're doing really well, kitten. Stay with me." The guy reassures me, briefly smoothing a hand over my cheek before he tears the other stake from my right hand, soothing me as I sob out loud. At his touch, I manage to register what feels like an electric spark, my body instinctively leaning into his in response.

"Wh-who are you?" I force out, breathing heavily once more.

"I'm David. What's your name?" The guy replies, scooping me up into my arms with ease, cradling me against his chest. Instinctually, I bury my head into the soft fabric of his shirt, breathing in the reassuring scents of cigarette smoke, motor oil, dust and a strange metallic smell, which I instantly recognise - blood.

"I'm (Y/n)." I inform him, before continuing a little quieter, "Thank you for saving me."

"Don't mention it." He smiles down at me, the sight of it making butterflies in stomach cause havoc, "You got anywhere to stay?'

"Err, no. Why?" I frown a bit, still enjoying the proximity.

"You wanna come stay with me? I have plenty of room at home, and I'm sure you'd fit in." He confirms, rubbing soothing circles into my back.

"Fit in?"

"Yeah, I live with three other people, but they're all good guys, so you don't have to worry about them. We can help you with the transition if you want?"

"The transition?"

"You're a newly tuned vampire, aren't you? You'll need help transitioning." The platinum blonde points out, speaking as if I know what he's talking about.

"Ok, sure. If it's not too difficult for you."

"It isn't. I'm glad you accepted." He smiles at me, walking off with me still clutched in his arms, easy to spend the rest of eternity with me.

Part Two

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#marko(the lost boys)#santa carla #star(the lost boys)#request #answer #ask

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ben-j-man · 3 years

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The Angaran Chronicles: The Underside; Extract

An extract from my upcoming novel, The Angaran Chronicles: The Underside, which is due to be released on the 1st of November 2021! Ready for pre-order here! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09FJM625N

The magically enhanced super-assassin, Anargrin and his team are the elite of the elite; black operations sent on the most dangerous of assignments to undermine the authoritarian theocratic regimes of the continent of Angara. Anargrin believes the past should be remembered, never obsessed over. Still, when he and his band of misfits are sent to investigate a Hunter Coven that stopped all communication soon, evidence indicates Anargrin’s enemy’s involvement. An enemy that is responsible directly and indirectly for much of Anargrin’s traumatic past, evidence that reveals a conspiracy hidden within the slave trade.

A conspiracy that threatens to engulf the entire continent in blood.#

Year: 2500 AHV Age: The Late Industra Era Country: The Kingdom of Camaria

Anargrin blinked as the cave was taken over by the calming, almost-dainty streams of midafternoon light filtered through the leaves and branches above. The stink of abundant pollen eclipsed the horrific stench of burned meat and fat. The crackling of flames was now the sweet singing of birds and the almost-constant chirping of the damnable cicadas. That cursed cave was only about fifteen kilometers northwest from here, but it was lifetimes ago. He wished he could forget, but the memory was just as clear as it was decades ago.

Anger, raw and powerful, sprouted through him. It caused him to clench his teeth and his fists. Did Kalthasin do that on purpose? Did he kill her like that because of the—he forced it inside, into hiding, as the sound of engines filtered through his enhanced ears. He doubted any of his companions would’ve heard it yet, as they wouldn’t be able to see him in the underbrush like he could see them.

So it was soon to begin. He’d done this countless times now: kidnapping children.

For two weeks, they planned for this, set up for this. No less time for preparation would have sufficed, and in fact, Raleas would have preferred more time—much more time.

Raleas shook away the lamentation as she knelt among the underbrush, her sniper rifle’s scope to her eye as she watched the truck bounce down the slick mud road, about half a kilometer away. The truck that contained the children was in the middle of a convoy of three others and five utes, all filled with soldiers. The groaning and grating of the engines was easily heard, even from here. The truck was the primary target of what the Hunters called “The Kidnapping Convoy.”

Raleas couldn’t think of a more appropriate name, and the alliteration added irony to it. They loved their irony.

She glanced about. Only about two meters to her left was the mage and apprentice Hunter, Wilom. His lack of skill in stealth was evident. Raleas just hoped they were far enough from the road. The redheaded young man knelt like her, his staff in hand, his brow furrowed over blue eyes, but she could easily see the sweat beading on his broad forehead and half-circle sweat stains in the armpits of his robes. It was humid but not hot. The country of Camaria was so far north it wasn’t known at all for being warm, even to Raleas’s sensibilities.

Two others were hiding around too, one of whom Raleas could somewhat see, a mere shadow of a tall, thin woman who held a large double-headed ax.

Of the third, there was no sign at all.

Raleas smiled. He was the best, after all.

“Raleas, concentrate,” Jelcine hissed from the shadows, making Raleas set her eyes back to her scope.

She was a sniper. Sentimental distractions were unbecoming of her.

The convoy came around the corner of the road.

It was almost time to act, and it needed to be to the exact second. It was on Wilom’s shoulders, and it was then Raleas realized it might not be the heat making the young Hunter-apprentice sweat so much.

“Wilom,” said Anargrin in a very familiar, soothing voice, although Raleas had no clue where it was coming from. “Are you ready?”

Wilom nodded, swallowed, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of a shaking hand. “I am master.”

Wilom had joined them two years ago as Anargrin’s apprentice. He was said to be among the best mages of his generation of Hunters, but little good at much else, especially everyday human interaction. Anargrin had been hesitant to allow such an inexperienced young man on their team. Still, he was eventually forced to, since Wilom had proven invaluable in assignments that called for little subtlety—assignments like this, when push came to shove.

“Okay, Wilom,” said the elf. “You seem . . . a little nervous, but we’ll be fine. Is everyone else ready?”

“Fuck yeah, you old fool,” said Jelcine. “I was ready the second I was promoted to Hunterhood. I am frankly offended you had to ask.”

Jelcine had been on the team for just over a year, having joined them, unofficially, when they were accidentally forced to work with her during an assignment. Hunters had been through the creatively called “ritual,” which lengthened their life spans. Despite being in her eighties, she had never been promoted from vampire-Hunter status, even though most Hunters her age were infiltrators or black-ops agents. The Hunters never gave her an apprentice, although she was skilled and extensively lucky. Her ritual hadn’t enhanced just her speed, agility, constitution, and regeneration factor, among many other things, but also her strength, far beyond the average Hunter. They said this was because of a one-in-a-million mutation. But everyone knew why she hadn’t been promoted: due to her black-and-white worldview, volatile temper, and immaturity. Frankly, Raleas would label her a “bitch,” but not to her face.

Jelcine had gotten sick of vampire hunting and saw joining them as a way out.

“I’ve got this, Anargrin,” said Raleas, fighting the urge to check her rifle’s load yet again.

“Good,” said the elf. “Alright, in three . . . two . . . one.”

The trio exploded into a sprint. The swishing of Wilom’s footfalls eclipsed those of Jelcine’s, but all three were nothing but blurs to Raleas’s human eyes while she watched them through her scope. She was used to the inhuman speed of Anargrin and Jelcine, but it was easy to forget that little young Wilom held such ability too.

It was also easy to forget that the Hunter-apprentice was only four years younger than Raleas.

They’d crossed about four hundred meters in only a few seconds before Wilom’s hands erupted in flames, and he slid to a stop and raised his palms. A giant ball of fire blasted out and flew straight for the leading ute.

The ute exploded and was flung up into the air, spinning and wheeling before crashing against the dirt road. It slid a few meters more before coming to a halt and blocking the way for the rest of the kidnapping convoy.

The convoy skidded to a stop, and Camarian soldiers poured from the trucks with a discipline that impressed even the ex-soldier Raleas. The heavy machine guns placed on top of the utes began to turn toward Anargrin and the others and opened fire, as did the other soldiers on the backs of the utes. The familiar barking, roaring crescendo of combined gunfire filled Raleas’s ears. But by then, Jelcine, Anargrin, and Wilom had already scattered—Anargrin toward the front of the convoy, Jelcine toward the back, and Wilom dashing sideways.

Raleas exhaled and placed a shot through the skull of a soldier on the emplacement as he tried to shoot for Jelcine and then through another’s as he went to take his comrade’s place.

Wilom slid to a stop as a priest of Jaroai and his soldiers ran from the truck’s back, following the one with the children inside.

Wilom threw another fireball, which hit the priest and the soldiers around him. It exploded and flung the soldiers screaming, writhing, and flipping like dolls. But the priest was untouched, protected by a shield of light.

The shield died away, and the priest raised his pole arm, which was layered in flames, but then Anargrin was on him. The priest, with impressive speed, managed to see Anargrin coming and swung out his staff. Anargrin evaded it, but how, Raleas couldn’t know. Then he opened the priest’s throat. Anargrin stopped, standing over the dying man as he dropped to his knees, and Raleas got a good look at him. Even for an elf, he was handsome, sharp featured, his skin as pale as the whitest Zatharian winter. His long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he wore a brown leather jacket with blue jeans and had a bloody longsword in his right hand. The soldiers in a nearby ute switched their aim for him.

Then Anargrin stood in their midst. He’d just “blinked,” a short-range instantaneous teleportation ability all Hunters had. Still, Anargrin was better than anyone else in the organization, having a shorter cool-down time of five minutes instead of the standard ten minutes and a more extended range. How he’d become so good at it, Raleas didn’t know; she supposed it was because of his utter inability to use any magic whatsoever—as all other Hunters could, with magical ability being a prerequisite to becoming a Hunter.

In less than a split second, all the soldiers were slaughtered by his blade. Then he leapt off the back of the ute and was sprinting toward the end of the convoy.

Raleas tore her attention away from him and to Jelcine. She fought a priest of Jaroai and about a dozen soldiers. She smashed and whacked away shot after shot with her giant double-headed ax while the priest kept her at bay with blast after blast of fire from his hands. Jelcine reeled as a bullet managed to hit her arm, making her cry out.

Raleas blew out the side of the priest’s skull. Then Jelcine was on the soldiers who once had her pinned down. Raleas began to pick off the stray soldiers who were trying to flank Jelcine or re-man the heavy machine guns. She knew she didn’t need to look after Anargrin or Wilom.

Her sniper rifle clicked dry, and she was about to reload when her wristwatch beeped.

It was time to move in, so she stood and began running.

As she approached the truck, the sound of gunfire drifted away, replaced by children crying and Jelcine and Wilom moving the ruined ute, its metal bodywork shrieking across the muddy gravel road. The smell of blood mixed with smoke and gunpowder somehow penetrated through the pollen blocking her sinuses.

Anargrin stepped out from behind one of the trucks while whipping the blood off his sword. He was svelte and walked with the smooth confidence of the most seasoned of martial artists. He had to be, being about two hundred years old and among the longest-living Hunters. Like most elves, he stood at around 1.67 meters but was still quite a bit taller than Raleas.

“You alright?” he asked, placing a hand on her arm.

Raleas smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m fine. I wasn’t the one fighting on the front line. I just wish I could’ve done more.”

“This mission isn’t over yet. You are going to be invaluable soon,” he said and glanced over his shoulder as Jelcine approached, clutching at her shoulder while she muttered curses. “And I’m sure you saved Jelcine’s arse more than once.”

That made Raleas smile, and he smiled back before he turned toward the truck’s front. “All of you know the drill,” he said while he and Jelcine passed each other. Then he opened the truck’s driver’s door and leapt in. “Let’s move.”

Jelcine walked up to Raleas. The tall, slender redhead fixed Raleas with an almost-hateful glare like she blamed Raleas for her injury.

“You talk to the children,” said Jelcine.

“But—”

“Look, my arm hurts like fuck right now. I’m not in the mood for dealing with kids.”

Raleas sighed. “Oh, alright.”

And together, they leapt into the back of the truck.

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need-a-new-hobby · 4 years

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dead man’s party

s1 e03

‘how can shadowhunters be better than what you call mundanes?’ well, the leather jackets and badass tattoos for one thing.

‘kay, clary kinda does have a right to be salty right now, but i gotta defend izzy. she left simon in the van to protect him. bringing a mundane into a fight would have been worse. but alec’s response to her salt is so funny

‘there is some truth to the idea that human beings should have a modicum of common sense.’ this is so in character with him, but seriously he could have a little compassion for the guy abducted by vamps

i don’t like clary’s salt anymore. i dunno how to explain it but she’s very hyper. (see ‘oh but there’s like this magic cup i hid on the planet bongo)

‘i can’t turn into what you are overnight’ the first correct thing she’s said all day, well all night really, but who cares? in this universe it’s day for like 5 minutes

alec just wants the mundanes out of his institute right now. ‘what are you, her spokesman now?’. i don’t envy his position, all he wants to do is just report back to the clave so they’re safe from scrutiny. he still hasn’t reported any of this.

RAPHAEL!!!! sorry, i get very excited but s1 raphael doesn’t live up to expectations (possibly cause he dead)

‘kay, i know clary wants to find simon asap but she can’t run into things head-first without a plan (which she keeps doing throughout the show). and if anyone really needs to know why i prefer alec, it’s cause he’s so level-headed, though to be fair, it’s not his best friend that’s been kidnapped.

‘right, seelies have their charms apparently.’ cue jace’s stupid grin. ‘izzy can tell you about them, she’s got a thing.’

raphael has had simon for 10 minutes and he’s already 100% done with him. ‘i really hate fidgeting.’ what would raphael look like with squirrels?

‘kay first point, did simon just throw a knife perfectly right into raphael’s chest? second, has this kid not watched vampire movies?

aight, camille is super creepy but her lines are gold. ‘how sweet. you’re bleeding.’ WHO COMES UP WITH THIS STUFF?!?

‘typical mundane failure of imagination’ hahaha, s1 alec is so salty. where’s magnus, alec needs to light up?

izzy’s so done with her brother being miserable and i love it.

oooh, alec got in trouble with jace.

‘kay, this episode kinda sets the tone for the rest of the season, especially with clace. i mean most of this season is just alec and izzy doing their jobs and jace ‘being there’ for clary. literally every 10 minutes, clary pulls jace from her job to talk about how miserable her life is becoming. whiny clary is boring and annoying

wooah. ‘are you so desperate to get laid that you’d risk killing us?’ yikes, alec, even i know that was a low blow.

‘beloved servant? who puts that on a headstone?’ - yeah, clary wouldn’t know anything about serving others.

‘don’t touch that, you don’t know how to use it’. haha, that sounds like something i’d say to my brother if he tried to use the electric whisk.

‘what, like in pandemonium, when i killed that demon?’ technically you held a sword and freaked out when jace shoved the demon into it.

first thing i noticed was alec’s dialogue is super clipped. i replayed the scene a couple times and you can kinda tell that alec’s really resigned to helping clary, probably because he knows it’s only gonna get them into trouble.

okay, jace training clary is giving me pain. its so cliched ugh

also is using a sword really that complicated?

‘could i even do this without you?’ jesus clary, you’re just waving a glowing sword and if she’s friends with simon, chances are she’s watched star wars. personally, i played with mock swords all the time as a kid. it ain’t that hard. but that might just be me.

‘alec doesn’t like anybody’. for the record, that’s true. i’m not sure where, but in the books, cc kinda mentions that alec doesn’t really like people, they just annoy him until they don’t, which is what happened with clary and jace (although personally, idk why she doesn’t annoy him anymore). the cutest thing though is that magnus never annoyed him. so technically, he likes magnus, ‘cept he hasn’t met magnus, yet...

‘why would he help me?’ who’s gonna tell her?

‘there’s no human bond that compares to what alec and i have.’ clary proceeds to compare that bond to her and simon. though, technically in the books, they become parabatai, but that whole plot-line is non-existent in the tv show since simon never becomes a shadowhunter.

simon apologising for trying to murder raphael is really funny

haha, subtlety is not alec’s best asset. no-one would doubt the acting head of the institute if he didn’t look so damn shifty. also, why not just grab the arrows and start runing them literally anywhere else?

hold on, clary can see jace even though he’s using a glamour but not the vampires?

noooo, simon, not camille ugh. watching camille and simon is painful.

again, alec with the unsubtlety. for someone so used to being responsible for jace’s misdemeanours, you’d think he’d be able to lie better. also for someone who’s meant to be like family, no-one seems to really care about hodge’s punishment rune literally scorching him. alec kinda just looks like the guy deserves it (which he does.)

omg, now he’s antagonising jace and alec’s relationship? bold move. also hodge slapping alec’s neck sounds so painful. like you can literally hear the slaps. but also, i feel like hodge does poke at a very central aspect of alec’s relationship with jace. alec’s always been responsible for his siblings and i can’t blame him if he’s frustrated by it. jace and izzy constantly get to do whatever they want, damn the consequences. except the consequences always seem to damn him, not the others.

how is it that jace can ride a motorbike, but can’t drive a car? i’d assume motorcycles are harder to ride than a van?

again, the soundtrack is flawless and ruelle is a goddess; the song for when they’re on the flying bike is invincible by ruelle

hahah, alec’s little ‘okay’ is slaying me. ‘great job izzy. you have fairy dust on your dress. and i hate being the distraction.’ cue dreamy sighing at grumpy lightwood.

also i love when emeraude toubia’s voice has that accent but the way she says frigging with the accent, chills.

they keep cutting to simon and camille making out, and i don’t wike it. it is gross and creepy. also her neck is bleeding and i’m very unhappy as to where this is going.

i have to admit, it’s surprising how well clary takes to the runes considering jace is literally burning her skin. although, at a certain point, if the heat is high enough, it just feels numb, or cold even. anyway, just to point out that in the books clary doesn’t get any runes until the city of glass. guess that’s impractical for the tv show.

surprise surprise, clary’s ‘not your typical girl’ and doesn’t see the romance in vampires. although it’s not really vampires as much as robert pattinson and i was always a jacob gal. i haven’t really watched all the movies though so don’t @ me, i don’t know enough. on top of that, it’s hard not to see clary as a sort of bella swan. having to deal with a love triangle between a childhood friend and a tall blond stranger and being practically useless in battle, even after she becomes a vamp. nope, no similarity whatsoever.

oh noooo, jace has never been in love. reeally heart-wrenching huh. and it’s not like clary has either. in the books, jace is like her first boyfriend, other than simon but we don’t talk about the disaster that is climon here. call me cynical but falling in love isn’t really that big a deal anyway. a lot of the time it’s just sexual attraction and i really don’t see the fuss. i dunno how to phrase it but clary feeling pity for a loveless jace is kinda icky.

haha, he doesn’t understand friendship? what’s alec, a distant cousin? cue her comparison of having a parabatai and having a best friend (see ‘there’s no human bond that compares to what alec and i have.’) and besides, you don’t know you’ll die for each other until you actually do. alec would actually die for jace and you see it multiple times throughout the show and vice versa.

i’m assuming the seraph blade works a lot like a normal sword in which case, again, i think he’s exaggerating the trick bits of it. but again, i grew up playing with pretend swords so....

i love how izzy talks about alec’s feelings while they’re trying to find vampires to distract. a lot of people tend to see this as a complete flip of normal priorities, but casual banter during what would normally be a very stressful situation is really important for me, personally. you finally get to see how izzy, alec and jace have grown up in situations like this, where they don’t know if they’re gonna make it to the next day. and yet they’re talking about their feelings. aaah im overanalysing again. sorry.

again with the banter! i love it. ‘whoever said the pen was mightier than the sword was an idiot.’ ‘when you’re right, you’re right.’ i love one pair of lightwood siblings

izzy looks way too excited to be killing vampires

ALEC WITH A BOW!!!! I LOVE MY ARCHER BOY 😍😍😍

also kudos to whoever came up with the idea of a whip as a bracelet

alec looks so happy with his arrows. aaaaaaaaaa!

okay, i love how clary kicks that vamp in the balls, but why doesn’t she just stab him? and why doesn’t she have her blade out yet? jace has to literally remind her, ‘hey you have a glowy sword in your back pocket’. this matchstick irritates me so much.

my archer boy has returned. am i the only one who thinks he was tempted to just shoot through clary? maybe it’s just me. also, you have to commend how alec thinks on his feet. i mean who’d have thought to nail an arrow through the wall to kill that vamp.

‘i killed him.’ ‘he was already dead.’ THAT’S STILL MURDER JACE! that’s what i don’t like about the shadow hunters, and it’s not just jace too. they all think that downworlders are somehow lesser beings because of their blood, but im guessing that most of them didn’t ask to be vamps or werewolves or warlocks and most shadowhunters (i.e. jace) were brought up to believe that blood somehow makes you a lesser being. that’s what i hate about shadow hunter society. but clary? she just falls into the same beliefs despite her father figure being a werewolf and her best friend being a vampire. she’s introduced to this world of angels and demons, she sees the discrimination that occurs and is silent about it, until simon becomes a vamp. reason #14 as to why i dislike clary

im sorry, but i laughed so hard when clary said, ‘thanks, but it’s not about me.’ for the record, alec had to save her from that vampire and the second one had already been punched to the floor by jace. also my tol bean is just standing in the back, waiting for this shitstorm of a mission to be over.

simon keeps punching the wrong people man. stop messing with raphael. also i love how raphael keeps thinking of the long game. camille is going to endanger the whole clan with the way she keeps breaking the accords and antagonising the clave. for non-book stans, raphael doesn’t particularly care about...well, anyone. except his clan. he cares about his own vampires, protects them like they’re his family and that’s only part of the reason why i love raph. the other reason is that his annoyance with other people is really funny for me.

i know the scene of the 3.5 shadowhunters walking in sync is meant to be like this cool badass scene, but i can’t help laughing at how they’re all dressed in black and izzy’s in this hot pink mini dress. we stan one queen.

watching climon is physically painful for me. i hate unreciprocated love.

watching jace and alec fight is physically painful for me. i hate family conflict

izzy just walks away, which is such a youngest sibling thing to do.

‘i’m older than you jace. i’m not in your shadow.’ aaaaaaaaaa my baby, noooo

‘if you really feel that way about her, why’d you help us tonight?’ JACE, YOU ACTUAL MORON. now that that’s out of my system, he is such a moron. first of all, if that mission went south, that would all have been on alec. this episode actually had me start disliking jace. in his race to help clary, he’s undervaluing the role alec plays in saving their asses. sure, alec’s not the strongest, or the fastest, or the fiercest. but when the clave comes down to rip them a new one, jace can’t save them. shadowhunters, just like police officers, have to follow the law. they have to think objectively and so far, alec’s the only one who’s been doing that. jace can fight vampires and demons all day, but he can’t fight the clave.

well, that episode was a hot mess. numero 4 coming up soon.

#shadowhunters #tsc #alec lightwood #alec #jace wayland #jace #izzy #isabelle lightwood #clary #clary fray #clary fairchild #anti clary fray #anti clary fairchild #anti clary #anti jace

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