hey...phil...im here

Do you ever think about all that Magnus has done for the Shadowhunters lately? The Institute? More specifically, the Lightwood family [and close friends]?

What he’s done for them all, completely free of charge, with little to no hesitation because of his feelings —his love— for a certain Shadowhunter by the name of Alec Lightwood?

That he would do just about anything within his power, no matter the cost to him, to make sure Alec and those dear are safe?

Yeah, me neither.

Originally posted by nyxisis

Monarch - Damian Wayne X Reader

(A/N: I’m back from the dead! I apologize for my hiatus, but now I should be able to get back to updating this blog more frequently.)

“What do you mean you can’t go there? He has Y/N! Nothing matters except getting her back. Come on, we’re wasting time!” Damian shouted. Bruce shook his head.

   “I’m sorry, Damian, I really am. I know how much Y/N means to you, but you have to wait for your brother. I cannot go there, which is the reason Joker took her to that location,” he said calmly. Damian wanted to scream.

   “Why? What the hell is so special about the Monarch Theater? She could be dying and you’re making me wait? I’ll just go alone!” he raged. Bruce put out a hand to catch him, but Damian evaded his father’s grasp. He stormed out of the cave, somehow managing to avoid Bruce on his way out.

“Damian, stop.” The older man’s orders fell upon deaf ears.  


Robin couldn’t even recall most of the fight. His recollection was blurred by the rage coursing through his veins. The clown himself hadn’t even been there, a fact that made Damian even angrier. I would have made him suffer for this… the boy thought to himself. He was pulled from his musing by Dick.

   “What the hell were you thinking? Robin, you would have died if I didn’t come in when I did,” he scolded. Damian ignored him.

   “Belittle me when she’s safe,” he said, continuing to search for Y/N. Dick sighed but gave in. It wasn’t long before they found the girl. As Damian took in her appearance, he let out a sharp breath. She was barely conscious, decorated with bruises and dried blood. A rag gagged her mouth, and her leg was bent grotesquely out of shape. A bloody crowbar lay near her.

   “Y/N!” Damian called to her. “Dick, get help, she’s here!” Y/N raised her head slightly, clearly exhausted by the effort. Damian ran to her, untying her bindings. When he pulled the gag out of her mouth, she coughed.

   “Robin…” she whispered in a croaky voice. Tears mingled with the blood on her face. Damian took the mask off, letting it slip to the floor.

   “It’s me, Y/N. Damian. I’m here,” he said softly, gingerly taking her into his arms. It was then he realized how bad her condition was. Several of her ribs were broken and her heartbeat was incredibly faint. His heart, however, slammed harder against his chest with each wheezing breath that escaped Y/N’s lungs.

   “I knew you would come for me…” she said, wincing when Damian strengthened his hold on her. There were so many things Damian wanted to tell her he was sorry for. Letting the Joker get her, not realizing what had happened sooner, taking so long in coming for her… words started spilling from his mouth, but his apology was interrupted by her coughs.

   “You’ll be okay, Y/N. The ambulance is coming, you’ll be okay,” he said shakily. She shook her head slightly.

   “Everything hurts so badly,” Y/N murmured.

   “I know, I know, but everything will heal… Just stay awake, keep going…” he tried his best to comfort her. More tears fell from Y/N’s eyes.

   “I don’t… Damian, I don’t know how much longer I can… I think I’m dying, Damian,” she whimpered. He shook his head, almost able to hear his heart shattering.

   “Don’t say that. Don’t. Y/N, I love you more than anything in this world… which is why you have to stay here. Stay with me,” he begged, voice cracking as he spoke. Hot tears ran down his face. A broken smile graced Y/N’s lips. Sirens could be heard outside.

   “Just hold on for a little while longer,” he said desperately.

   “Your mask,” she responded weakly. Damian nodded, quickly fastening it over his eyes just before several EMTs flooded into the room and lifted Y/N from his arms. A haze descended over Damian. Dick appeared at his side, guiding him out of the building.

“It’s probably not the best idea going to the hospital in costume, but I’ll drive you as soon as you change…”  Everything Damian heard sounded like it was echoing through water.

“You can’t die,” he whispered, watching the ambulance drive away. “Please don’t die.”

so the last couple of weeks in terms of headcanons have been weird and not-very-consistent for me, so i thought i’d remind you guys what i’ve done this month in case you’ve missed anything - 

even’s friendship with the Boys // vilde x magnus friendship // subtle bfs pt.2 // cute evak hipster dates (guys i love this one idk about u) // isak’s sleeping problems // evilde + rainy mornings // boys talking about isak when he’s not around // evak shower (nOT WHAT YOU THINK) // post o helga natt warmth // even embarrassing isak 

tlourellie  asked:

"You and me against the world. Always." LEVIAN UNWIND P L E A S E

sentence prompts ; not accepting. 

For every horrible, disgusting, unforgivable thing that has occurred in Lev’s life since he ran away from home, there’s been something that makes life ever so slightly bearable. 

For now, that thing is a snarky, self-righteous jerk with a smirk that any parts pirate could make good money off of.

Keep reading

A Ghost at the Back of Your Closet 

In which Framework!Fitz is confused about her motivations, and Jemma is trying, really, she is, but her body is still operating like it thinks he’s the enemy.

2352 words 

cw for a mention of childhood abuse, and discussion of the attack in 4x15 

read on AO3 


“I need a shower,” Daisy groans out, rubbing her hands down her face. She flops back on the seedy motel bed, eyes pointed toward the white, popcorn ceiling in a withering stare. “Why do I even need a shower? We’re in the fucking Matrix, none of this is real. Yet still, I smell. It’s completely unfair.”

Jemma sits at the foot of the bed, inspecting the map they’ve drawn on the wall (it’s not like it’ll matter, once they shut the framework down. What’s a little destruction of private property in the grade scheme of things?). Each of the team’s locations are marked with pushpins, along with lists of all the information they’ve managed to gather on them. It’s not enough, Jemma knows. They need more.

“You do smell a little.”

Hey,” Daisy whines.

Jemma turns back to her, blinking innocently. “What? I said ‘a little’.”

“Whatever.” Daisy pushes off the bed, walks backwards toward the bathroom. She raises an eyebrow at Fitz, who’s sitting on the other bed. “You two gonna be okay without adult supervision for a little while?”

Jemma freezes. She and Fitz, this Fitz—Leo, he’s called here, though she refuses to call him that, even in her head—haven’t been alone together since they finally managed to convince him to come along. She knows what Daisy’s implying, and Jemma wishes she wouldn’t. She’s more than a little uncomfortable with the idea. This isn’t Fitz. Her Fitz. That’s what she tells herself is the problem, anyway.

“Yeah- uh- yeah, we’ll be fine,” Fitz says when she doesn’t speak, when it’s gotten just a little uncomfortable.

Daisy eyes them both, then holds up her hands, retreating to the bathroom.

Jemma doesn’t turn around to look at him. She knows what she’ll see. He’ll be sitting there, looking so much like Fitz but so not, so, so out of place in his posh suit and scarf. Looking like a person who would never set foot in a motel of all places, which he’d voiced when they’d arrived. He’s close, but he’s not Fitz. So she doesn’t look.

Plus, he might be looking back at her. She doesn’t know exactly why, but that’s the last thing she wants.

So she just focuses on the work in front of her. Not that she’ll figure out anything new just by staring at the same slips of paper they have been for the last two days, but still. The effort matters.

He waits until the water is running in the shower before he speaks. His presence alone is stifling, but his voice is something even more jarring.

“Why do you want me back?” he asks, and of all things it’s not what she expected. It confuses her enough that she looks back at him. He’s watching her carefully, thoughtfully, not really looking at her eyes but lower on her face, and it’s so Fitz-like that she wants to cry.

“What?”

“I- He- obviously wasn’t very good to you. Why do you even want him back?”

Her eyebrows draw together, mouth popping open in confusion. “Where are you getting that? Fitz is never anything but good to me.”

“You flinch.”

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