#benedict lightworm

[mattmurdocksthighs]

THE SHADOWHUNTER CHRONICLES FANCASTS

LIGHTWOODS i

rufus sewell as benedict lightwood

lily james as barbara lightwood (nee. pangborn)

harris dickinson as gideon lightwood

patrick gibson as gabriel lightwood

kaya scodelario as tatiana lightwood

[thetoastmastergeneral]

Imagining Will running around quoting this at the beginning of “Clockwork Princess” has honestly made my day.

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

[marrr444]

So you wouldn't be surprised.

[rhiannons-bird]

[gotthat-lightwood-bane]

Benedict Lightworm 🪱

Yall remember “Simon is a rat” and “Father is a worm”? Y’all remember how we used to run in this fandom?

[thetoastmastergeneral]

The three front runners for President of the United States everybody:

[impossiblyannoyingstarfish]

❗Spoilers for main Shadowhunters series.❗

I just realised that cassie has killed atleast one lightwood in each of her main series.

Tmi - max lightwood

Tid - Benedict lightworm

Tda - Robert lightwood

Tlh - Barbara lightwood, Christopher lightwood, tatiana blackthorn (neé lightwood)

Twp - ???

I don't know what's going to happen in twp. I am hoping that she won't kill any lightwoods as that would mean killing off our tmi main characters. And God forbid anything happens to my babies max and rafe. But cassie has never missed this mark before in any of her series.

Let's just hope that killing off so many lightwoods in tlh has satisfied her quota of killing lightwoods and no lightwood will die in twp. Fingers crossed guys

I am so scared😰😭

[bytheangell]

hello elle! i've noticed you haven't posted as much as usual and i figured that's something every writer goes through but i'm rooting for you! right now i'm trying to work on a waywood longfic that i hope to start posting this year 😅

hope things go fine for you, you always have my best wishes. since you said you're open to anything, maybe do you feel like to write more waywood? you'll have my enthusiasm and joy supporting you 😆

from the prompt list you posted, some i felt that waywood could go for were 4, 5, 7, 22, 47, 189 and 193. of course, you should only write what you feel like writing �����

(Read on AO3)

People always say that children can be cruel, but they often overlook the fact that they take after the equally heartless adults who raise them.

It was one thing when the other students taunted Robert for his family history - whenever he does too well, or too poorly, it’s either ‘good to know you’re smarter than a worm’ or ‘what did you expect from a Lightworm?’. Robert was used to that. No matter how far his family came, no matter how much distance they put between themselves and Benedict’s legacy, it never seemed to be enough.

It was another thing to have one of the Institute’s Professors step in to break up a fight and say “Why am I not surprised to find a Lightwood at the heart of another problem?” when Robert had done nothing wrong. He’d never done anything wrong. He’d done nothing but his best to keep turning his family name into something positive, something to be proud of. It was never enough. He was never enough.

And the one person who thought Robert was enough, Robert pushed away.

Robert didn’t wait for the Professor to finish before he turned, started running, and didn’t look back.

Robert hadn’t spoken to Michael in days now… or was it weeks? And yet in this moment, getting more lost by the second as he made his way through the pitch-black forest, everything inside of him screamed for Michael’s company.

Robert tripped over a root, or a rock and fell hard to the ground below. He felt a cut across his knee, the pain of a twisted muscle in his wrist, and even though he could get up if he wanted to he chose not to. He sat there, on the cold, hard ground, and his heart, mind, and soul all yearned for Michael to be by his side.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. He thought he may just stay on the ground forever, honestly. The next thing Robert knew, he heard the crunching of branches approaching, and then Michael was by his side.

“You’re hurt,” Michael said, reaching down for Robert. It wasn’t a question.

“Why are you here?” Robert asked, pulling his arm away from Michael’s reach and immediately regretting the action as a new sting of pain traveled from his wrist up the length of his arm.

“You’re hurt,” Michael repeated.

“The last time we spoke…” Robert trailed off.

“You were a proper asshole,” Michael confirmed, already pulling out his stele.

“Then why are you here?” Robert repeated.

“Because I could feel you out here, Robert. Hurting. Calling for me through our bond, whether you meant to or not. We’re parabatai…” Michael hesitated, but only for a second before pushing forward. “...and I love you. I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael held his stele over Robert’s healing rune, looking at Robert expectantly. Even after all this, he wanted to respect any boundaries Robert might set. Robert nodded slowly, closing his eyes against the comforting sensation of his parabatai activating his rune spread through him.

He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what he could say that would excuse his past actions, or show Michael the sort of appreciation he deserved for staying even now. Why should Michael bother to come all the way out here and help the person who kept trying to push him away?

But Michael was his Parabatai, and Robert should’ve known better than to think he’d have to say anything at all. In the silence that fell between them, Michael seemed to read his mind.

“I will always choose you, Robert. Even if you won’t always choose me.”

Robert didn’t deserve Michael, didn't deserve his reassurance and comfort... but just as Michael chose to be here, Robert could choose to accept it. 

And he did.  

[fictionkinfessions]

I miss my kids.

I have my wife and my parabatai, my Tessa and my Jem.

But I still miss my kids, my family. We all do.

I miss teaching James and Lucie Welsh, and Matthew and Cordelia too, later. I miss talking about books and anything that caught someone's mind in the drawing room. I miss sitting with Lucie as she wrote her stories: Secret Princess Lucie Is Rescued From Her Terrible Family, The Beautiful Cordelia, and The Wicked Queen Cordelia come to mind most readily. I miss going on walks with Jamie and telling him all about the terrors of ducks.

I miss my dear niece and nephew, Wilhelmina and Christopher. I miss playing peekaboo with Mina in the way only a ghost ever could. I miss late nights giving Kit pointers for his letters to Ty. I miss the quiet joy that was haunting the house of my parabatai and his wife, who had once been mine, and of the many shades of affection we all shared. I miss hearing of all that I missed between my passing and my haunting of Cirenworth Hall from the lips of those two souls dearest to me as my own. I miss telling Kit and Mina stories Tessa and Jem never would have told them, like of the day Jem was lost to Tess and I for over a century, or of that one horrid party of Benedict Lightworm's Tessa and I attended.

I miss stealing Gabriel's carriages, and the (usually) fondly irritated look on his face every time I returned them. I miss rolling down greenest of Welsh hills with my sisters, Eva and Cecily. I miss training with Cecily, or Gabriel, or Sophie. I miss Anna's taste in fashion and her sharp sense of humor. I miss the way Christopher always took after Henry, and putting them both out when neither of them noticed their clothes on fire, often with a smiling Charlotte at my side. She always was happiest with Henry. He was happiest with her too, and I shan't begrudge them of that ever.

I miss catching up with Jessamine and George Lovelace, learning if the history of the London Institute that Jem or Tessa or Magnus would never be able to tell me, simply because they hadn't been there. I miss Magnus, and seeing him truly happy, the way I'd never seen him with any other of his partners, with Alec Lightwood and their kids.

I am not ungrateful for the chance I have been given, to well and truly hold my Jem and my Tess again. But that doesn't mean I don't grieve strongly. We all do, us three. We grieve those who are truly gone; James and Lucie and Matthew and Cordelia and Christopher and Anna and Thomas and Eugenia and Alistair and Zachary and Gideon and Sophie and Cecily and Gabriel and Charlotte and Henry and those children I wish I could remember the names of, or the grandchildren. We grieve for those who we were torn from and must live on without us; Magnus and Alec and Jessie and Georgeand Kit and Mina and Emma and every last one of those Blackthorns, be they visibly descended from my Luce, as silvery bright as sunlight on water, or the near spitting image of Jesse. My grief is a dagger wound that can be ignored for a while, but painful as Raum venom in a misericord wound. I am glad Magnus helped Tessa with her grief, that same gratitude I extend to Ms Loss and Ragnor Fell. Oh, Magnus, how do you do it, live with a grief so painful?

Speak of the warlock, we know Magnus is probably going to form five days from now (probably when this gets out of queue 🙂), but in the meantime we're doing everything we can to stop that. I wouldn't wish the absolute agony of losing your precious ones in this particular way on anyone. I absolutely would not wish this torment on a friend as dear to me as Magnus. (Who absolutely would have gotten to hold little babies James and Lucie, if he had been able to visit sooner.)

~ Will Herondale (fictive) #🐈‍⬛🎻

Hah, and Tessa said she rambled!

✉

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Hypatia to Julian and Emma

To the Blackthorn Nephilim residing at Blackthorn Manor, Chiswick

From Hypatia Vex, Fellow, Spiral Labyrinth

My greetings. Attached please find the first pages of Tatiana Blackthorn’s diary that I have translated from Purgatic. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought that Magnus Bane might shed some light on the situation that caused you to bring the diary to me, and he did, speaking of a curse upon the house. I have skipped over a number of entries related to the author’s clothes, opinions about her peers, complaints about the weather, and so on, in favor of one that I think will be of special interest (though it rather contradicts what I think of as the history of the house — Benedict Lightwood of course was hardly known to be trustworthy, or perhaps things have altered since his time. A mystery to be delved into, perhaps?)

I will be in touch soon with further translation.

Yours,

H. Vex

Dear Diary, tonight I am in a state of rare elation. It seems that my patience and care may not be as worthless as they are usually assumed to be by the members of this family. For I believe that Father has at long last come to accept and even approve of my betrothal to Rupert! (Oh, happy day, oh darling Rupert!) More astonishing, he has communicated this not by anything so clumsy as an awkward sentimental statement, but instead by taking me into his confidence, and telling me of things that I am sure he has never shared with my brothers.

It was after supper. The Terrible Gs were off whacking at each other with swords, or some such nonsense. Father usually repairs to his study, of course, but tonight he came over to me and, out of the blue, asked me to accompany him there. I dutifully followed.

There he closed the door with care and bade me sit in one of the wing-chairs facing his desk. He settled himself in his own chair and began by telling me that the Lightwood name is a powerful and ancient one.

I replied that I knew that and, indeed, never forgot it.

He continued to say that such a name brings with it great prestige and influence, but also great enmity. The adversaries of the Lightwoods were many, he said. “And I speak not of the demons we make war on, or even of the half-demons permitted to roam the earth on our sufferance, but of those of our own race, that is, the Nephilim.” He explained that there was great envy towards us, and while it would not be expressed directly, there were those who would seek to destroy us.

I asked him who he was thinking of in particular, but he demurred. The enemies change, he said, with the times; alliances form and crumble, as the varying Shadowhunter families’ interests are altered by time and fate.

(I am recording his words as exactly as I can recall them, Diary. I admire the forceful manner by which he expresses himself, and wish to take it upon myself, since the others in my family do not.)

He went on to explain that while it is not widely known, we are well-protected here in Lightwood House, not only by the sound brick and stone, but by an enchantment that affects the house and its grounds themselves.

An enchantment! I was astonished. I knew that magic was a subject of interest to Father, and that his researches led him to minor experimentations. I had no idea that he had accomplished so much. This I expressed in, I hope, a complimentary manner. He said that it had taken him several years to make the preparations, for he did not trust anyone, even a warlock paid well for their silence, with the knowledge of the house’s protection.

The enchantment is very elaborate, as I understand, and its effects somewhat difficult to communicate. Father said that it served both to prevent other Nephilim from investigating the house, and to keep areas of the house, and possessions of the family, hidden from discovery. I asked by what means did the enchantment work, and he said that it had to do with ley-lines, the seams of magic that cross the earth, and a half-dozen objects selected and placed at locations along those ley-lines that are a matter of elaborate calculation.

I pressed him for more detail, reminding him that I shared his interest in the topic of magic, but that was all he would tell. He explained that I was as yet an unmarried girl who need not trouble herself with the ways of the world—and here I finally reach the reason for telling this story, Diary.

As he spoke of me, he gave me a look, one that at first I could not translate. But soon enough I realized: he said that I was “as yet” unmarried. By the glint in his eye I understand what he was saying: you will soon be a married woman.

And so all comes clear, in a beautiful burst of triumph!

Father accepts Rupert, and will approve our marriage—

This will cause me to gain my majority—

That will cause Father to take me further into his confidence about the nature of Lightwood House and his work in magic—

Because he understands that whatever the Law may say, I am the right and proper heir of his goals and his work—

And because he intends Rupert and I to become the masters of this Manor after him!

Though my efforts have been long and arduous, Diary, and I have feared they would never come to fruition, I sleep tonight with victory within my grasp, and only pity for my poor brothers, too vacuous and pigheaded to even understand what has happened while they beat each other with sticks in the training room.

Tatiana soon-to-be-Blackthorn Lightwood

[emmablackstairs13]

I CANNOT RIGHT NOW-

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

This paragraph is so fucking funny to me. Like. Benedict you bastard you fuck demons in your free time.

And then the “hAlF-dEmOnS” I hope he’s rolling in his grave like a chicken rotisserie knowing that there’s now two of them who have Lightwood in their last name and one of them is married to his descendant. 😤

[cortanas-wielder]

The fact that the word Lightworm is only written 2 times in all the TSC books and it's still a running joke in the fandom lmao

[thedamnephilimfangirl]

You know, something that I keep thinking about is what would've happened had Tatiana returned from her honeymoon one day later.

Rupert wouldn't have died. Jesse and Grace would've been raised as normal Shadowhunters. Tatiana would've most likely not blamed the London Enclave for the death of her father, because I think Rupert would've talked some sense into her. Jesse might have died because he wasn't strong enough to bear runes, but at least she had someone to help her. Grace would've had a normal childhood. James and Cordelia would have a normal love story. Blackthorn Hall wouldn't have fallen into disrepair. Emma and Jules would've had a happy time there.

If only they had arrived one day later.

[bluemeetgrey]

All of this…

Just because one guy can’t manage to keep it in his pants?

[kotwkawie]