JACE !!!!!! STOP SINGING ABOUT ANACONDAS AND BUNS NO WHAT IS THIS LIFE WE LIVE NOW WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU ?!?!?!! YOU ARE NOT THE NEXT NICKI MINAJ
if u can’t imagine ur otp on a long road trip together with no set destination in mind with things happening like their car breaking down at one point or stopping at a store to argue over what snacks to buy and taking turns driving while the other rests and checking into a little inn or hotel on the way and pulling off to just chill and look at the sky together do u really ship it
’ i saw depicted drawings of people that weren’t
me—- so i’m trying to find the appeal, but there’s
simply none. ‘
flicking through the pages of the
sketchbook, he pulls a face at an angelic simon.
it was one complete inaccurate representation if
you would ask jace. though no one was, nor will.
❛ no appeal ? you’re kidding. jace, there’s
not really meant to be an appeal. hand it over.
— but i could change that. maybe. who knows.
i’ll think about it. ❜
so maybe there was pages and pages of small
scribbles, attempts that she tore out, attempts
that she made of drawing him. he’s too perfect,
what do you expect. if she hadn’t done that he’d
be all there is to see. just led creating nothing.
at least she’s giving herself time to draw again.
you wanna know who’s super super super fab ?
you, for sure. asdfghjk thank you for this lovely
message, though. it means a lot to see this in
my inbox so i kept it for a little while. but your
portrayal of loki is really, really amazing and i
admire your writing so much, i’ve never gotten the
chance to say that, but it think now’s the time !!!
nephilim across the broken land, some listening to his words
and others dismissing them. they became reluctant to kill the
faces of the people they once knew. unalike jace—who’s past
experiences with the ENDARKENED are evident, they didn’t
realise the severity of their state, nor how truly gone they are.
there’s not even the slightest part of their soul left within the
only jace had to find out the hardest way, just as his fellow
shadowhunters will. with blood and sheer heartache. his
thoughts return to clary, as he drives his own sword within
the corrupt heart of an endarkened, motivated by her real
memory ; and that of what had been taken from her. the girl
he met in pandemonium. ichor bleeds, body limp, he finds
the hilt and withdraws.
they’re losing. he can’t save them all. the citadel rains with
fire, as blood and ichor spill in a mixture. he can feel the fire
within burning and his own tinder sparking a blaze. it slows
him down, but also motivates the angel boy, releasing all the
resentment onto these army of immoral souls. one by one,
they fall at his feet. most leave marks on a bloodstained body.
CLARY is constantly catching his line of vision, her frame
swaying with her weapon —— as if it’s an extension of her
own arm. heosphoros becomes coated in crimson, a brilliant
red that radiates through the dark. she’s a sickly yet beautiful
he has no option other than to steer clear of the pathway
she creates, wavering between fellow shadowhunters. the
ones he can fellow, at least. there isn’t a bone in her dark
body that remains to be nephilim-worthy, let alone able to
relate to them. the ones she murders in cold-blood. it isn’t
too long before he swivels back on her path unintentionally
and ends up facing her. nothing can prepare him for this.
❝ you finally got what you wanted. i must admit, i anticipated
you to look more… pleased. ❞ his voice is weak against the
clash of the crowds surrounding them. it ripples, too, within
her dreaded presence. he isn’t sebastian. he can’t flick off his
emotions like a switch. unalike most, he does a decent job at
concealing, but since his heavenly fire and loss, he struggles.
how wrong would it be to end this herself ? how wrong would
it be to end her own life among others ? from both armies. all
soldiers and all demons. half of that sebastian had worked for
— and his whole world. how wrong would it be to scrawl a
rune on the frozen plain to split the earth in two. creating a
chasm beneath the red death. creating something that
would end all life fighting on this blood ridden ground.
how wrong would it be, for her to think she could do that ? she
is strong enough. she’s tried it. many times. harnessing that
power and letting it flow through her arm to the adamas of the
stele. a darkened creation lead to many disasters and trials on
her part, for sebastian to administer. defined by her malice
heart and valentine’s blessed angel blood experiment that sits
in her veins still only tainted enough for her to be loyal.
sebastian only needs her power. he craves it. not her. it needs
the mind capacity of a thousand shadowhunters. it needs her
most powerful rune and she knows just which one.
though the decision is edging at her thoughts, tugging at
strings that are not meant to be tampered with. tugging at her
sanity as if she has any left. this would win them the smallest
of wars. a distraction. and yet clary is willing to die for what
means so little. willing to die for what is only a warning. still her
mind is distracted from the real complication. just before the
dark heart speaks her thumb glides softly across her cheek and
her fresh wound, catching any blood, smearing it away until it’s
no longer a bother.
❛ i’ll look a little more pleased once i know that you’re dead.
you won’t get to see it, i’m so sorry to disappoint you, jace. i
know how much i sicken you. but i won’t for much longer,
i promise. ❜
it could be that utter sickening desire to feel the fire of him burn
hot next to her ; or sebastian’s whispers in her ear, but after
giving him one last look her small frame lunges straight for him.
sebastian’s puppet, that’s all she is. having nightmares about
this very moment and subconsciously begging to wake up again
and again and again until there’s only darkness. now, in this very
moment, she is willingly about to kill the love of her life. and
those nightmares becoming a reality. not something clarissa
truly appreciates. she won’t do as such until he is gone.