#angelsbled

       ❝ ms. fairchild ! i’m so sorry, you’re just catching me coming back from a mission ! ❞ granted, it’s TECHNICALLY not her responsibility to greet the institute’s newest guest, but she knows her mother can be hard to deal with. catherine drops her bow and heavier gear by the door, smiling warmly as she extends her hand to the redhead. ❝ catherine highsmith. it’s very nice to FINALLY meet you. ❞

it was nighttime at the institute. which meant andy was restless, finding it hard to sleep. she wanted to run. she missed the feel of the earth beneath her paws and the way the moonlight made everything glow. she missed not being cold. ever since her shift back, she felt cold. 

the girls were in clary’s room, sat cross legged on the floor in front of one another; clary watching andy, and andy watching their hands. more specifically, the one she was currently painting. 

clary’s. 

andrea’s head was bent low, a frown set on her face. her tongue stuck out in concentration as she stared down at the hand she was holding tight to. the wolf’s brow creased further, her eyes squinting as she lowered her head closer, needing every brush to be perfect. she watched the paint leak from her brush and onto the other girl’s skin, staining it a soft, pale blue colour wherever she let the two touch. 

when she pulled back, raising her head; a small, plain, delicate outline of a heart was left adorning the back of the redhead’s hand. 

proud of herself, andy beamed at clary, holding her hand up for the other girl to see. she hadn’t made one single splodge on clary’s hand. she hadn’t even spilled any of the paint anywhere. compared to normal? that was a huge success in itself. 

She may not have known what was behind the doors of the Institute, but she knew there were much better things out there than that. Of course, she'd seen most of the world thanks to her father's teachings and her own work. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for those she kept crossing paths with. All children and it seemed as if they actually enjoyed their work. Not that she could say much. Talia knew her father had trained her from a young age and she was just as good as them when she was their age. But she hadn't enjoyed it nearly as much. Which was why she took the route she did in life Maybe this one could do more with her life than constantly fight whatever it was they constantly fought. Or maybe she could show her what life could really be like. "There's more to this world than whatever it is they teach you in there."

@angelsbled​ touched his wings.

patient eyes narrowed on clary, gaze once again lowering to the duffel bag she'd just stashed underneath a chest of drawers in her room. trying, he thought, and failing, to do so inconspicuously. clary stepped right in front of him, her tiny body blocking his approach, shielding the bag from him. he huffed, and tried to sidestep her, but she stepped right along with him. “clary,” he groaned, with what could only be described as a pout forming on his thin lips. 

he tipped his head slightly, raising his eyebrows at her. “you know i see that, right?” he asked her, and when she only bit her lip at him, he sighed deeply, still trying to read her face. “what’s in that bag and why are you hiding it here?” 

she didn’t answer him. and he expected he wouldn’t get an answer, even if she did look fit to burst from wanting to tell him. stefan expected it had something to do with izzy, and immediately, he started to smile. clary, sensing victory, matched his smile. 

            SHANE DAWSON (& SQUAD) SENTENCE STARTERS

❈ >> She offered a small smile as her hand moved to rest on Clary’s upper arm squeezing with reassurance. Her expression was soft. Nightmares were a fact of the job and Izzy knew that very well by now herself having had some over the years so her heart was with Clary in this moment.

❝ haven’t you ever heard the herondale family motto? ❞ he asks, quirking an eyebrow upward at her. ❝ to love is to destroy. to be loved is to be the one destroyed. ❞