#shadowgays:starter

[rctribvtn]

       jace’s feet hit the ground with a thud as he stepped out of the portal, eyes glancing around the open space he’d appeared in. given that he was the first one to go through, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see. there were people milling about and rows upon rows of computer screens, information moving so quickly across them that he couldn’t make sense of it. this had to be the head of operations. he straightened up and moved further into the room, hearing the tell-tale sounds of people exiting the portal behind him as he explored. maps, plans, official looking documents - it was all there. clearly this had been in the motions for YEARS and the thought made him shiver. this was no rebellion - it was a REVOLUTION. 

turning away from the papers he glanced back over to the portal, a spark of recognition in his eyes as he watched his friends cross through the portal. he felt a pang of hurt cross his features when neither alec or izzy stepped through, but he pushed that aside. they’d see, he rationalized as he crossed over to greet a familiar face, they’ll realize they made the wrong choice.  “looks like i’m not alone.” he remarked as he approached them, a tight smile on his face as he nodded in their direction. “and by the looks of things, we’re not in the MINORITY here.”

[rcisehcll]

         simon burrowed further down into the blankets. if anyone had asked what he was doing, he would have told them the truth; wallowing. simon lewis was wallowing. not only had his best friend stepped through a magic portal going god knows where, aligning herself when people who were definitely drinking the wrong kind of kool aid, but someone he considered a brother and BOTH of his boyfriends had done the exact same thing. so yes, he was wallowing, but goddamnit - he’d earned it. he’d even gotten stabbed in the process. if anyone deserved to wallow right now, it was simon lewis. 

                            { the universe however didn’t seem to agree. }

he winced when someone stepped into the room and pulled back the shades, sunlight streaming through and illuminating the room as he pulled the blankets up over his head. “go away!” he moaned, face pressed against a cushiony pillow that still smelled like jace’s shampoo. he winced, a traitorous pang shot like a knife piercing straight through his heart. “unless you know how to conjure up a magic portal, or wrangle up a time machine to get our friends back, there’s nothing we can do. no, that’s not true - there is something we can do, we can wallow. hence what i’m doing. WALLOWING. you should give it a try, you might like it.”

[notanythcng]

  “It’s open,” perched at a stool by their counter, she turns her attention from the form in front of her ( ‘volunteering at brooklyn general’) to the door. ( simon hadn’t informed her that they were having anyone over but it didn’t alarm her. in fact - she could think of a few of their friends in which knocking would be a miracle. ) “and simon finally agreed to get the ac fixed. it’s safe!”  

[rebelightwood-blog]

     Of course, he had to get himself into a fight — but it was inevitable now, wasn’t it? He just wanted to run away, really, and thank God that it all happened in the last hours of his school day. At least he had wiped the blood dripping down from his nose away, though there was still the slightest bit left. With his bag on his back and earbuds in jamming loud rock, cold gaze and fast steps walked down the streets until a familiar face almost crashed into him.

    He stopped in his tracks, biting his lips and cursing in his mind. Fucking... of course. “Hi.”

[crimsonrubies-blog1]

     Isabelle slammed down her Burger King order and eyed the cashier coldly. A woman in her time of the month was a force to be reckoned with and the poor boy facing her had it coming. “What did you not understand under a double cheeseburger? As far as I can see this is an ordinary one.” she rolled her eyes, tapping her foot, voice fiery. “Fix my order, thank you very much.” 

     She returned back to her table, sitting down and cupping her tired face with her hands. “All I want is a burger and I don’t even get the correct order. I even feel bad I stormed like that. Help.”

[truebloodedlightwood-blog]

&&. so cold ( with anyone )

the only sound in the institute was hands and feet hitting the punching bag &&. the occasional hiss and grunt that the woman let out, limbs beginning to hurt but her mind embracing it, appreciating it. maryse lightwood rarely trained at the institute, she could count on one hand the times she’d done so ever since max had been old enough to stay behind when they left for official business——– she never let them watch her when she had, either. she was deadly. moving with quick, sudden blows with tremendous force : a killing machine taking out every bit of anger and frustration on thick leather.

emotions had not been her strength for long, except for anger. it was easier to be angry than to hurt, especially now when she knew that eventually the news would break. another blow to the name she’d rebuilt, after she herself had brought it down. a punch that was sure to bruise her knuckles, a round-house kick that could have snapped a neck. hair was falling from her perfectly constructed braid, sweat dripping down her chest. yes, anger was much easier than feeling the pain that ached deep inside her chest.

maryse was thankful for the lack of demonic activity, because at one in the morning the institute was hers &&. hers alone. 

her gaze wandered to the weapons and her decision was made, strong steps on bare feet leading her to a broadsword, hands gripping it with ease and confidence. this was why her children had never seen her training, keeping herself sharp and ready for anything : maryse didn’t have much to be glad for in her life, but she knew they had never seen what she’d done. they thought they knew, but they didn’t. oh, they didn’t.

the movements came swiftly like water down a stream, slicing her way through air with far too much ease for anyone that knew her way around a battlefield. many had died on the end of her broadswords. demons, downworlders, shadowhunters. her stomach churned and the switch went off, emotions evaporating because she couldn’t deal with her past right now, or with her failed marriage, or the pictures in her head----- robert in bed with his whore, as he surely was now. she couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

the noise went unnoticed for a second too long and her brain didn’t register her surroundings, who this could be : all she knew was that someone had moved behind her and the woman was thankful she’d turned on her feet in a moment and hesitated, the sword she’d thrown at full force lodging on the wall instead of the figure in front of her.

“you should be in bed.”

[aequaloss-blog]

     Catarina opened the door of the loft after going past Magnus’ wards which were oddly increased in terms of power and quantity. She had an unique permission to go past them anyways, but she couldn’t help but notice that little detail. Catarina wasn’t deglamoured for her own safety, not until she was sure her friend was here. Eyes scattered around the living room and the smell of alcohol, cats and her friend’s cologne carried through the air. She made a few steps forward, wondering if the warlock was home at all. “Magnus?”

[rctribvtn]

    “stop looking at me like that.” jace bristled as he looked up from where he was levitating knives around the kitchen, dicing up vegetables that would inevitably be slid into the cast iron skillet beside him. “i know what i’m doing. besides,” he snorted, “even if i did cut my hand off, it’d just grow back. don’t worry so much. you’ll get frown lines.”