#I just really like Izzy okay she goes through some shit but her last two pieces are just

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Promise: Izzy Gallagher

CW: Neglectful/abusive parent, minor whump (emotional/neglect, nothing physical happens here), referenced implied shock collar (on adult), whumpee’s child, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, isolation as punishment, referenced food control

@eatyourdamnpears, you asked for this, remember that. Also, I promise I’m going somewhere with this, she’s gonna get her crowning moment of badass.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with their permission, his dialogue is theirs

“Your daughter has such lovely hair.”

The little girl sits tall in her mother’s lap, hands folded, breathing in silent shallow inhales and holding perfectly still as her mother’s cold hand turns her head to the side by a grip on her chin, to show off the style that had taken what felt like forever and ever to finish.

“Doesn’t she just? I mean, it’s clear where she gets it, don’t you think?” Her mother’s voice is bright and slightly brittle, a little less than thrilled with the compliment aimed at the girl and not the mother whose genetics provided the curl, the texture, the thickness.

“Oh, definitely. You made such beautiful children with your husband, Sav, and Isabella is such a lovely example.”

Savvie relaxes a little, but the little girl knows her mother’s mood isn’t entirely placated, her fingernails still press just a little too harshly into the little girl’s softly rounded face, still losing her toddler puppyfat, just starting to narrow to show an edge of her father’s looks married to her mother’s.

She keeps herself sitting straight, tries to pretend there is a metal stick up her back to hold her like this, and waits for the anger, the snapping words. Not until this woman leaves, though. Only when it’s just Savvie and Jax and the little girl and her brother that the worst parts happen.

Maybe the woman will stay a long time. They never do, but maybe this time.

“Was your hair like this when you were young?”

“Oh, yes.” Savvie twines one of the little girl’s curls around her finger, with pastel purple nail polish that glints in the light, and the little girl presses her top teeth down into the soft skin of her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

Her hair spills in a waterfall of lush dark brown, the kind of hair that overwhelms a child, her mother's hair. It's already long enough to reach the middle of her back, carefully styled with the front and sides pulled back and twisted into a floral clip. My mother - your grandmother, darling, you never met her - brought this back from Italy when I was your age, her mother had said with sparkling eyes as she fixed the little girl's hair into place.

It hurts, the way her mother pulls on her hair when she styles it. Her scalp aches from the brushing with hard bristles, the scratch of nails at her scalp, the pulling and twisting and bobby pins and the clip. Her mother is impatient, unhappy with how she wriggles when she has to sit so long.

Her father, banished to the corner of the room while Savvie works, had jerked forwards when Savvie snapped at her for moving and said, Savvie, please, she can’t help it, she’s four-

Then Savvie had fixed him with a glare, and her father had gone still and made himself sit down, and the little girl had apologized so that he wouldn’t be disciplined because of her, and she had held so so still and kept her eyes locked on her father’s hands, curled into fists over his knees, the only sign of the anger he wasn’t allowed to feel.

The little girl is four years old, and already knows better than to let her mother see that anything she does hurts - except for discipline, which is supposed to. 

When Savvie and her guest keep chatting about the little girl’s waves of curly brown hair, she doesn’t wriggle, or shift, or move at all. She only allows her head to be turned, sitting perfectly still in her lap, a slight, faint smile fixed on her face.

She has learned how her smile should look from her father, who knows just how to keep them as safe as he can.

When her chin is moved to the left, so that the woman might admire the beautiful floral clip that looks like stained-glass against a creamy white background, set off by the dark of her hair, she is made to look right at her father.

He’s busy getting the tiny cakes and sandwiches ready for her mother and her mother's friend to eat, pouring their champagne and orange juice into fancy tall glasses, settling a small orange slice just so along the rim. His hair is styled, too, with some kind of product in it to fall a little bit over his forehead and one eye, and he wears a dark blue turtleneck sweater - they call them jumpers where her dad is from, he tells her that during their times alone when they can share secrets, in the single room in the house where her mother never follows - and pressed slacks. Her mother picks their clothes for when people come, for her, and her father.

Her mother chooses everything, overwhelms her, is the terrifying center of all of her fears. Her mother is the storm that knocks down tree branches and the snow that makes the house creak as it piles up. She's the wind that sounds like ghosts whistling through the attic. Her mother is the sharp fangs and claws that reach out from her dark closet, from the space under her bed, while she is left alone all night with no one but her teddy bear to hold onto.

It’s only in her father that the little girl finds hope. And even he can't give her anything until Savvie's storms have passed. 

She watches his hands move, scarred and roughly calloused hands that have laid gentle against her forehead to check for fevers and held her tight when she has bad dreams, to set each small bite-sized morsel just how Savvie will like it. He’s not really looking, though. His eyes are on her, on the little girl, and not her mother, or her mother’s fancy cakes. 

Save me, the little girl tries to beg with just her eyes alone, without losing the small smile, but she knows he can’t do anything, not really. If he tries, especially in front of guests, her mother will demand he get down on his knees for discipline.

He’ll try to hide how much the big black necklace he has to wear hurts him when she presses the button to the remote she always wears around her wrist.

He won’t be able to hide how it hurts for long. 

It’ll be her fault, too. If her mother has to punish him for wanting to help. The little girl is always told that it’s her fault after he is shaking on the ground, made to say she’s sorry. She dreams about her father in trouble, getting disciplined, because of her.

Because it happens all the time.

So she folds her hands together even more tightly, until it hurts, and keeps her smile perfectly in place, watching her father look back at her, both of them utterly helpless.

All he does is swallow beneath the big black necklace, and keep moving the little cakes onto the special fine china plates, scalloped edges with pretty gold paint flowers in their middles. 

The little girl loves the way the fancy plates look, but she is not allowed to touch them. When her father sets the plates down, one in front of her mother and one in front of her mother’s guest, she knows better than to reach for a tiny cake herself. 

"Bella, you should tell Miss Gladia thank you for saying such nice things, sweetheart." Her mother’s voice is sickly-sweet, fake with love she doesn’t really feel, and the little girl turns back to the guest who sits across the table and wonders what she said that was so nice.

She can’t let her mother find out she wasn’t listening, or she will be disciplined again, or her father will, and both of those possibilities are terrifying and bad and she has to be a better child, make it better, be perfect, be good. She has to be perfect all the time, forever, she can never ever stop or he will be hurt, because of her.

Again.

Her fingers tremble and she forces them to go still by closing them into tiny fists where they can’t be seen, just like her father does. Be perfect be perfect be perfect be perfect be-

“Thank you, Miss Gladia, that’s very kind,” She says in her high piping voice, widening her smile a little to show how grateful she is, pretending she has any idea what either of them said with all her hope and heart. Praying her mother believes that she means it.

She watches her father place the guest’s plate down across the little circular table, how he doesn’t look at her. It’s too dangerous, she knows that, for him to show that he loves her in front of her mother. Too dangerous, at least, when her mother is pretending to love her, too. 

He can’t help, but he’s here, and that makes it a little bit better.

She can smell, just a little, the cologne her father has to wear when her mother says so, blending with her mother’s overwhelming perfume, making her head spin and her stomach flip. She doesn’t want to eat, but her mother rewards her for saying the right thing by finger-feeding her a bite of one of the tiny cakes.

She can’t say she doesn’t want them, she doesn’t dare. Instead, she opens her mouth and bites down, feeling the burst of sugar-sweet and slight press of teeth through thick frosting layered over in pastel pinks and creams, little sugar flower on top crunching between top and bottom teeth.

She tries to enjoy it, but everything just tastes like being afraid.

“Thank you, Mommy,” She says, and Savvie laughs like it’s so ridiculous that she’s so polite, but if she doesn’t say it now she’ll be in trouble later.

“Bella, what good manners you have,” Miss Gladia says, and the girl smiles like she’s embarrassed and looks down, shy, as she is fed another bite. Her hands hurt in her palms from her fingernails digging in. “You’re doing such a good job with her, Sav.”

“Oh, I hardly have to do a thing,” Savvie says brightly. “Bella really just came out like this, she hardly ever cried even as a baby.”

The little girl doesn’t tell them that she hates being called Bella, it doesn’t feel like her name at all. When she and her father are alone, he calls her Izzy, and she likes that best. Izzy is a safe name, Izzy is a girl who is safe in the bright room with her father telling her their secret stories about the life he lived before, a whole big world the little girl will never be allowed to see, making promises the little girl already knows he can’t keep. 

Izzy is the safe girl - Bella is the girl who must walk on ice that cracks beneath her feet, knowing if it breaks she won’t be the one who falls in. Her father will. 

“Oh, you must be so proud of her,” Miss Gladia says, and takes a drink of the fizzy orange juice that the little girl can’t have because it has champagne in it, which is a grown-up drink that spark and fizzes and pops when her father opens it in the kitchen, the cork bouncing off the ceiling or wall, and she and her father sometimes feel safe enough to laugh, there. 

Sometimes. If her mother is far enough away in the house that she won’t hear them.

“Well, I am, of course,” Savvie says, waving one hand to dismiss the thought. She takes a drink of her own special grown-up orange juice and neither of them offers the little girl anything. Her plastic sippycup is somewhere else in the house. It ruins the look of the table, Savvie said earlier. She will be thirsty until she’s allowed to leave the room.

Her tongue sticks thick to the roof of her mouth from the sugar and dense cake. She feels the need to wriggle, to shift, growing inside of her and has to quash it down, breathing a little bit faster, trying to keep it so silent that her mother will be too distracted to notice. She tries to focus on her hands, the only part of her that is free to move, squeezing them tight and relaxing and then squeezing again. 

“... or I would be,” Savvie corrects, one hand on the little girl’s back. It looks like affection - it’s a promise, a threat, a danger. The little girl straightens her spine even more, until her back hurts, and she doesn’t say a thing. “If she didn’t have the worst tin ear.”

“Oh, really?” Miss Gladia sighs and shakes her head. “That is disappointing, coming from such a musical family.”

“Must have gotten it from her father,” Savvie says, long-suffering, and the little girl feels the tiniest bloom of warmth inside of her, that there is any part of her that is her father’s, and not her mother’s. Any part at all. “When I was four I was already able to play anything easy, really, and practicing five days a week. My daughter can’t even do a scale. Believe me, I have tried. She’s honestly been a bit of a disappointment from day one. No amount of encouragement has helped.”

The little girl thinks of her mother screaming at her to try harder, her tiny fingers fumbling and dropping the violin, wailing with fear at the rage in her mother’s face.

“I mean, you’d think she is choosing to be bad at music on purpose, some days.”

She’s scared of music, now. She is choosing to be bad at it on purpose. 

The little girl remembers the discipline after she dropped the violin (it was an accident, she didn’t mean to, only she was just scared). She’s too scared to even touch the violin now, or the big piano in another room, she shakes and cries and her mother finally stopped trying.

She can’t make herself safe - but she can hide this one small thing, and that’s a little bit safer, even if it’s not very much.

Remembering, she has to blink back the threat of tears. Tears are even worse than being ungrateful. She can’t let the guest see them, she can’t.

"Oh, sweetie, are you all right?"

The little girl's stomach drops, and she tries to will the tears in her eyes away, but it’s no use - her mother’s finger and thumb grip her chin tight enough to pinch as her head is turned for Savvie’s inspection, her bright eyes roaming over her daughter’s face, seeing the glimmer, the flush, the way she is biting on her lip to hide how they tremble. 

“Are you crying, Bella?” Savvie asks, and her voice is mild, but the little girl can hear the threat there, anyway, the coldness underneath. So can her father - she can see him, in the corner of her eye, go suddenly still where he was moving to clear the serving trays away and back to the kitchen. “Why would you be crying, lovie?”

Love in all its forms is a bad word. Lovie is the name for when the little girl is bad, I love you is what her mother says before she makes her father scream his apologies and what she says while petting his hair afterward and making him let her hold him until his shaking stops. You’re so loved is what she whispers when her hands close tight around Izzy in what she thinks is a hug.

Now that the tears are here, they won’t be stopped, and she shudders as they run down still-chubby cheeks and drip to leave watermarks on her pretty silk dress. Her breath hitches in her desperate attempt to hold them back, and her hands are fisted into the silk until her palms burn with pain from her fingernails and still she can’t stop. 

“I-I don’t know, M-Mommy, I thought-... ab-about something sc-scary is all, is-... I’m s-sorry, I thought about a movie, scar-... scary movie-”

She and her father have talked about what to say, practiced it - make it my fault, keep yourself safe - and the words fall off her tongue like she means them and for a second she thinks her mother will calm. The press of her hand on the little girl’s back lightens, and she smiles, and her eyes twinkle, so big and bright, and the black parts in the center are so small. 

“Well, Daddy shouldn’t be letting you watch those, should he?” She asks, playfully teasing, and looks up to her friend. “Honestly, what was he thinking?”

“Who knows?” Miss Gladia laughs, and her voice is kind, but the little girl hates her for seeing her tears, for making her have to tell the lie.

Then her mother’s eyes fall to the spots on her dress caused by her tears, and the hand on her back is suddenly pressing hard again. “Bella, what did you do?” Savvie keeps her voice light, airy, hardly bothered, but it’s a trick and the little girl’s eyes go wide to her father, who stands silent, watching them. She wants to see that he will save her.

She knows already that he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” She tries again, sometimes if she can apologize fast enough the danger passes, like a cloud moving away from the sun. This time, though, her mother’s smile stays brittle and she is bundled into Savvie’s arms as she stands. 

“I’ll just take her to change and have some time elsewhere while we finish our visit. Do you mind waiting here for just a second, Gladia?”

“Of course not, Sav. I’ve plenty of mimosas and I have a phone, I’ll be fine.” Miss Gladia laughs and waves them away, and Savvie holds the little girl so tightly she aches as she carries her out of the room. 

Why doesn’t anyone ever notice that she’s scared of her mother? If they notice, why don’t they care? Her cousins aren’t scared of their parents, they fight and throw fits while the little girl sits silent, watching them.

The difference is only that her father has the big black necklace, and none of theirs do. It’s the difference between being safe to have feelings and having to watch each and every one to make sure it’s only ever perfect. 

The little girl is good; she doesn’t start to cry again until they reach the second floor, where the bedrooms are, and she realizes what her punishment will be.

“Savvie-” She raises her head, eyes streaming tears, to see her father following on her mother’s heels, his eyes locked on her even as he says her mother’s name. “Savvie, don’t, it’s not her fault, I can-... I know how to f-fix it-”

“You can’t get a water stain out of silk. Honestly, crying in front of guests, Bella, what is wrong with you?” Savvie’s voice is sharp, now that Miss Gladia is out of earshot. “Jax, get something for her to wear when she comes out of time-out.”

The little girl panics, then, wriggling to try and escape her mother’s arms, only to feel them tighten around her until it feels like metal closing around over her ribs. Her voice goes even higher-pitched, airy and breathless. “No, no, don’t put me in time out, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t do it please!”

“Every single word you say will only make me put you in time out for longer, Bella,” Savvie snaps, and the little girl falls into a wail she muffles by burying her face in her mother’s neck, solid as stone, no comfort to be found. “Jax, I said get her a change of clothes ready.”

“Yes, Savvie, but-... another dress for company, or-”

“No.” Savvie stops in front of a door, and it’s not the little girl’s bedroom door. She raises her teary head to blink, confused. It’s painted pale blue gray instead of the pastel pink of her own door, and Savvie pulls an old-fashioned key from her pocket and unlocks it, swinging it open.

“No,” The little girl whimpers. “Please, no.”

It’s the monster room - a huge old room full of furniture covered in big draping canvas cloth that looks like each is hiding something terrible underneath, the room the little girl is most afraid of. Heavy drapes keep out all the light but the tiniest sliver that cuts across the floor, and dust floats through the air.

The monster room is the worst room in the whole house, and it’s the only room she’s too scared of to go in there herself, and her mother knows it. She knows it, but the little girl wasn’t perfect this time, and she has to be disciplined if she isn’t perfect.

The little girl feels a new fresh burst of tears, lower lip trembling, and pulls in a breath just as Savvie says, “If you start crying again, Bella, I’ll leave you here all night.”

The little girl’s sob catches in the middle of her throat and she fights to swallow it, snapping her mouth closed and forcing her hands over it to press so hard her teeth ache, trying to tell herself she has to be brave. Brave and strong and not make much noise while she is hurting, like her father does. She sniffs hard, audibly hard, and slowly nods to show she’s listening, she’s trying, she can be good. “Yes, Mommy,” She whispers, an echo of her father’s eternal Yes, Savvie, which sometimes stops the violence.

“Savvie,” her father says from behind her, a new urgency in his voice. “Savvie, she can’t be left alone, n-not all night, she needs to eat.”

“There’s a bathroom in there and she’s potty-trained. If she cared so much about eating, she wouldn’t have embarrassed me in front of a guest.” Savvie carries her inside and the little girl is tense in her arms, clinging tightly to her terrifying mother and staring with giant desperate panicked eyes over the woman’s shoulder at her father, who wants to but cannot help her. “She should know better than to cry in front of guests. She can cry in here all she wants, nobody will hear it.”

“I will.”

“I’m not worried about that, you have work to do.” She pries the little girl’s arms off of her and drops her, unceremoniously, onto the dusty off-white cloth pulled over the bed. The girl whimpers as she hits the rough canvas and pulls herself up to curl into the tiniest ball she can manage, feeling horribly small, afraid, and alone, even before they’re gone.

“Pl-please don’t leave me,” She tries, in her smallest voice. “Mommy, please.”

Her mother’s eyes are cold and unfeeling when she spares the little girl a single final glance. “Don’t get tears on silk and I won’t,” Savvie says, and then points back out the door. “Go, Jax. I’ll let you know when you can come get her back out. Have her clothes ready.”

Her father looks at her, at the frightened child with her knees pulled up to her chin and ruffled ankle socks and patent leather shoes showing under the hem of her dress, tears making her face ruddy and shining, the wide eyes that beg him for some kind of saving, and then back at the woman who calls herself his wife. “Savvie, please, does she - does she have to be alone in here?”

“That’s the whole entire point, Jax. I said go.” Her mother’s voice switches from the cold hard edges to a sudden sweet softness, turning to slide arms around her father’s waist, leaning into him and nuzzling against his face, seeking a kiss. The genuine affection the girl is denied, her father receives, but he doesn’t relax. He allows it, that’s all. “She’ll be fine, sweetie. Besides, James’ll be up from his nap soon, don’t you want someone around to take care of him?”

The little girl isn’t old enough yet to understand that her mother is laying a new threat, to treat her little brother the same way she is treated. But she sees her father’s tension rise. 

She can’t understand the unbearable, awful calculation he has to do, deciding which of them can handle her cruelty the best. It will be years before she can grasp how it must have felt for him, having to choose the infant who is utterly helpless over the daughter who has already learned to live in constant fear. She can’t understand, in this moment, that the torture that cuts deepest is how Savvie forces him to leave one to save the other, over and over again.

All she knows, then, is that he never seems to choose her. She can’t see that it’s not really a choice at all.

She only sees her father’s jaw set, his eyes lower, before he turns to her and says, gently, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Isabella,” and leaves, her mother right behind him. The key turns in the lock.

She is locked in the monster room, one tiny little girl, all alone.

She starts to cry in earnest once they are gone, wailing her fear and some small slim spark of anger that has yet to be extinguished. She screams and begs them to come back, promises to be so good, but no one comes back for her, and the shadows in the room have eyes.

This isn’t fair. She tried her hardest but she can’t be expected to never cry, and she leans over and smooths her skirt out and lets all her tears fall on the silk, ruining and ruining it.

She hates all her dresses, anyway. Dresses are stupid, another bad word she isn’t supposed to say, dresses are stupid and she hates them. They suck. They’re crap. They look stupid and she hopes all her dresses will get water stained and dirt-stained and gross.

The anger grows, a comforting flame to hold back the teeth and claws she is terrified of, and it takes over her tiny body. 

She yanks the clip that holds her hair out and throws it as hard as she can, watches it bounce off the wall, throws her stupid shiny black shoes and balls up her socks to throw those and then she says every single curse word she’s ever heard her father say under his breath when her mother isn’t listening, and all the words he’s said in front of her, too. 

She screams the words, until her throat aches, until her voice rasps, until her muscles are all standing out pressing on her bones, until she can’t hear her heart anymore, because the anger is bigger than her body, and her mother can’t hear her to punish her for feeling it.

Then, the anger is gone and she is still here, and she starts to cry again. The cloth sways like there are bodies underneath, whispering voices she can’t quite understand, and she is too scared to get down and feel the claws of something under the bed reaching out to pull her in.

Something creaks, like monster-steps, and she half-screams, but no one is coming. No one ever comes to help her, not until her mother thinks she’s sorry enough for whatever she’s done.

The little girl lays down on her side and makes herself very small and prays and prays and prays that she won’t be eaten by the monsters before time-out is over. Her body shakes with sobs and the canvas underneath her head grows damp with her tears.

Somewhere in her praying, she falls asleep.

The next thing she knows is drifting awake to find her father’s warm arms already holding her, her cheek resting on his shoulder, her forehead just touching the black nylon on the side of his neck. The sliver of light through the big dark drapes has gone golden and weak, as the sun starts to set. Her stomach feels empty and sick, and she sniffs as he walks back out into the hallway. “D-Dad-”

“It’s all right, Izzy,” He whispers, and she relaxes into the safe nickname. If he’s using it, it means Savvie isn’t here, or she’s far enough that she won’t overhear them. “It’s all right, it’s over.”

He doesn’t smell like cologne anymore. He must have scrubbed it off. He just smells like him, now, and the little girl, still half-asleep, smiles. She likes the way he smells, all on his own, just shampoo and laundry detergent and the only kind of love that’s safe. 

“Sorry I was bad,” She mumbles, voice still slurred with sleepiness, and nuzzles into the big black necklace he wears around his neck, the one her mother uses to hurt him. She has never, in her whole life, seen him not wearing it. “I’m sorry, Dad. S-sorry I wasn’t good-”

“You’re perfect.”

Her father’s voice suddenly has an edge to it, a fierce insistence. His body shakes, muscles going tight and then relaxing. He must have made her mother mad, after she was locked in time out. Or maybe she had just wanted to hurt him for no reason - she does that sometimes, too. “D’you hear me, Izzy? You’re absolutely fucking perfect. She just can’t see it. She can’t-... see it. You did nothing wrong. I’ve got some-... some dinner for you, in your room, and James is in there with his blocks. Do you want to eat, play for a while before bed?”

Her stomach growls, answering for her, and she nods a little, sliding her arms up and around his neck. “Is-... is Mom gone?”

“She’s in her room. She won’t come and see you tonight.”

The little girl breathes a sigh of relief. She can just be Izzy, now, for the whole rest of the night until bedtime. If her mother doesn’t come see her, she can be safe, for just a little while, with her father and little brother, and she can pretend that’s all the family she has.

“I’ll be better next time, Dad, I promise.” 

His voice is heavy with an emotion she isn’t old enough to understand as he answers, “You shouldn’t have to be, Izzy.”

“But I do have to be.” She sniffs a little, and flinches with instinctive fear at hearing herself make a sound her mother hates. Her father’s arms only tighten around her in response, and she reminds herself, heart pounding, that she’s safe, for now. “I try, Dad, I try to be a good kid, I do. I try so hard.”

“I know you do.” He kisses the top of her head, briefly coming to a standstill, his body still giving the occasional all-over shiver, what her mother calls ‘aftershocks’. “You try your hardest. But even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter, not to me. You’re good all the time.”

“I’m good?”

“Yeah, Izzy. You’re…” Her father sighs, and holds her so tight she almost can’t breathe, but unlike when her mother does it, when her father does she feels, for just a second, like nothing in the whole world can hurt her at all. 

Her smile, hidden still against his neck, is wider than it ever is with anyone else. 

“You’re the best. And I’m going to get you and your brother out of here. I promise.”

She doesn’t hear how carefully he promises to save her and her brother, but never promises to save himself, too.

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

#whump #child whumpee #child of whumpee #intimate whumper #food as control #shock collar #izzy fucking gallagher #I promise I love you Jax #isolation #captivity #family whump #is that a thing? #I just really like Izzy okay she goes through some shit but her last two pieces are just #triumphs over the first ones #you know what I mean? #like these first few are sad but they get better and she gets stronger #she grows up into a tour de force #but I wanted to showcase what she overcomes to get there

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @noz4a2​​ @wiccanmetallicrose​​ @crxssourbones​​ @kimljn​​ @starrynite7114​​ @richonne4life​​  @themarkblues​​ @mariaxliliana​​ @thelovelyleo23​​ @hail-horror-queen​​ @gemini0410​​ @binooo98​​ @the-jer-bear​​ @abbiesthings​​ @losolvidad0s​​ @helli4nthus​​ @babaohhhriley​​ @futureleo1678​​ @whatupitshuff​​ @trhett21​​ @trulysuccubus​​ @minnicelli​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @capnsaveahoe​​ @leahnicole1219​​ @crashbarbie​​ @cyka1312​​ @zoovent​​ @lakamaa12​​ @keithseabrook27​​ @vir-tually​​ @awkwardtayler​​ @rawrlittlepanda-95​​ @irenne-stans​​ @pearlkitten33​​ @ezs-baby-angels-whore​​ @sesamepancakes​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @shawty-fenty​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @anactualcaseofthetruth​ @star017​ @cant-decide-at-this-moment​ @cocotheclown​ @watsonwise​ @ilovebey2018​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​  @ughdontbeboring​ @jjwriter23​ @briskywalker​ @peoniarose​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @partypoison00​ @making-starsdance​ @claytoncardenasbabymama​ @myakai13

#lost one of tommy's scenes and retyped it off memory #so hopefully it's good lol #but let me know what you think? #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #lover of mine

[morganaspendragonss]

when the dust settles

Tommy grins, arching an eyebrow as she looks back at TK. "Shall we go rescue your man from my girls then?"

TK has to prepare himself before entering the house, but his resolve to stay calm and composed immediately crumbles as he sees what's waiting for him—Carlos, meticulously stacking Jenga pieces back in the box while the girls colour quietly at the kitchen table.

ao3 | 1.5k | 2.14

It’s late by the time they finish their impromptu shift, all piling into Nancy’s car after returning the rig to the garage. A tense silence falls over them as they head back to Tommy’s place, both TK and Nancy still reeling from the bombshell she dropped on them this morning. The sense of finality that comes with leaving the ambulance behind is almost too much to bear.

It’s Nancy who breaks it eventually as they pull to a stop outside the Vega household. “Well,” she says, turning to look at Tommy, “if this was our last ride all together, then… Thank you, for being such an amazing captain. There’s no-one I’d rather go through volcanoes, kidnappings, and dust storms with.”

“Agreed,” TK chimes in from the back seat. He doesn’t have as close a connection with Tommy as Nancy does, but the thought of her leaving still sends a sharp pain through his chest. She’d been the first captain he’s truly felt free and comfortable under, and he can’t picture the job without her steady leadership guiding them through. “And, thank you for giving me a chance, Cap. You, uh, these months with EMS have been the best of my career, and I know most of that is down to you. So, um… Yeah.”

He trails off awkwardly, flushing slightly as he stares down at his hands. There’s an awful pressure behind his eyes, a sure sign he’s about to cry again, but he tries — unsuccessfully — to force the tears back.

“I think we’ve all cried enough for one day, huh, Strand?” Tommy asks, but there’s a smile in her suspiciously thick voice. TK looks up at her, met with a warm gaze and, yep, the undeniable shine in both her and Nancy’s eyes.

She breathes out shakily, then reaches a hand back to TK, the other going across Nancy. “I’m not sure I deserve such high praise, but thank you both. I meant what I said earlier; it has truly been a gift to work alongside two incredibly talented paramedics, and I could not have asked for a better reintroduction to the job.”

Nancy arches a brow, looking at her in disbelief.

Tommy laughs. “Maybe I could have gone without being kidnapped and having my firehouse blow up.”

“For starters,” Nancy mutters.

“Point is, I’m grateful. And… I think that maybe I was a little too hasty in my decision earlier.”

TK straightens in his seat, sharing a hopeful glance with Nancy. “You mean you’re coming back?”

“I’m not sure my girls would have it any other way,” Tommy admits wryly. Her smile turns a little sad, and she casts her eyes skyward, squeezing their hands tightly. “Then I think about what Charles would say,” she continues softly. “He would tell me to do what I want to do, not what I think I should do, and that’s my job. Don’t get me wrong, the girls will always come first, and I still need to do a lot of thinking to make sure it’s actually doable. But, hopefully, when the 126 reopens, I will be back in that ambulance with you two.”

Nancy doesn’t waste a second in launching herself forward to hug Tommy. TK grins at them, his eyes more than a little wet, and he feels a weight lifting from his chest.

“That’s awesome, Cap,” he says, squeezing her hand once more before letting go to surreptitiously wipe at his face.

“I can’t believe you almost left me alone with him,” Nancy adds, pulling back from Tommy and jerking her thumb towards TK. He makes a token protest, as is his role in this relationship, but the ribbing is worth it to see Tommy smile and roll her eyes at them, like she’s done so many times before.

“Alright, kids.” She opens the car door and climbs out, leaning back in to raise an eyebrow at TK. “Shall we go rescue your man from my girls?”

TK laughs and gets out too, hearing Nancy do the same. He has to take a moment to prepare himself before Tommy lets them in; seeing Carlos with the girls earlier had put all sorts of thoughts in his head—thoughts he should not be having after only a year of dating. Not that he wants to have those thoughts about anyone else, but still.

Slow and steady; that’s what they agreed. So TK takes a deep breath, tells himself to keep his head, no matter what’s waiting inside, and follows Nancy into the house.

His resolve crumbles immediately, his heart doing a funny little flip at the sight of Carlos meticulously stacking Jenga pieces back in the box while the girls colour quietly at the kitchen table. TK doesn’t know why it’s this, of all things, that’s making him so giddy, but there’s something about Carlos taking such care over something so small, whereas TK himself would have just thrown the pieces in the box until the lid had to be forced on.

It takes a second for his brain to reboot, and by that time, Carlos has abandoned his task. He smiles at them as Tommy hugs her girls, and TK goes over to greet him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He leans his head down on Carlos’s shoulder, letting some of the exhaustion finally catch up with him. “Have fun?” he mumbles.

Carlos covers the hand TK has on his waist with his own. “Not as much as you, I’m sure.”

“Nine-year olds versus a dust storm?” TK hums as if in thought and wiggles his hand in the air. “Tough choice.”

Carlos laughs, gently knocking their heads together before pulling away from TK as Tommy returns from putting the girls to bed. He doesn’t let Tommy get a word out before he approaches her, an adorably worried look on his face. “I know you said they usually go to sleep much earlier than this,” he says, apologetic, “but they wanted to stay up and wait for you, and I figured they’d do that anyway so I said it was alright. I’m sorry if it wasn’t, I shouldn’t have assumed —”

“Carlos!” Tommy holds up a hand, very obviously fighting back laughter. “It’s okay, really. That was absolutely the right call; I’d probably have woken them up anyway. I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to look after them so last minute.”

He shakes his head, waving her off. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” she corrects. “I hope they didn’t torture you too much?”

“They were no trouble at all, I assure you.”

“Well.” Tommy sends him another grateful look, then glances round at all three of them. “Thank you, again. All of you. Now, go home and get some rest — you guys deserve it.”

TK steps forward to hug Tommy, then moves back to Carlos’s side. “Night, Cap,” he says, lifting a hand in one last wave goodbye, before he and Carlos step outside together.

They linger on the curb, waiting for Nancy, who stayed back to talk to Tommy some more. TK hooks his pinky around Carlos’s, leaning on him again. “You were really good with them,” he says quietly, keeping his voice carefully devoid of implication.

Carlos shrugs. “I’ve got five nieces and nephews, and my sisters have taken full advantage of my childless status to turn me into the family babysitter. Trust me, once you’ve had a toddler screaming in your ear for four hours straight, you can handle anything. Besides, apart from repeatedly kicking my ass at Jenga, Izzy and Evie really were totally fine.”

TK snorts. “Yeah, you’d think a cop would have steadier hands than that.”

He grins up at Carlos, receiving a pinch in the side for the comment, which only makes him laugh more.

“They cheated!”

“You can’t cheat at Jenga, Carlos.”

“For once, he has a point,” Nancy says, making them both jump as she appears from, seemingly, nowhere. She levels a finger at the two of them, eyes narrowed. “Technically, I am obligated to drive you home, but if either of you start with the lovey-dovey shit, I will not hesitate to abandon you on the side of the road.”

“Then I will not hesitate to turn you in to Cap,” TK counters, but Nancy just rolls her eyes and gets in the car.

“Please. She’d be on my side and you know it,” she says, which—point. “You coming or not?”

TK grumbles but gets in, immediately retaking Carlos’s hand when they’re both settled. They share a soft smile, making Nancy groan, but she doesn’t make good on her threat, which is a win. This entire day has felt like a win, minus the rocky start, and TK can’t help but feel like things are finally falling into place.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s getting closer with every second.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #tommy vega #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserjamie #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

[khaleesiofalicante]

in holt's voice: Pain. That's it.

Today hasn't been the best but HEY I HAD THESE PRECIOUS BABIES TO KEEP MY COMPANY

He looked exhausted like he hadn’t slept at all.

alec...

I'm already sad and ready to murder

the baby...

David had never lost someone he loved.

this is fucking foreshadowing isn't it

But real strength was not in surviving the presence of pain. Real strength was in suviving the absence of love.

despite the chaos I'm glad to see these two interacting

The Consul leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his beard. David had to admit, he looked damn good with it. Even if it made him seem even more intimidating than before.

yes boy YES

it's really hard not to smile right now but my camera is on and im supposed to be finding meanings of foreign words based on my own knowledge so-

JACKSON

“Max is too old for me to tell him what he is and isn’t allowed to do,” the Consul said – although he didn’t sound very happy about it.

MY TEACHER ASKED ME THE FIRST QUESTION IM LOSING MY SHIT

It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.

let's hope so

Facts and figures, babe, Max had kissed his cheek last night. Dad likes facts and figures.

deep breathes

it'll be ok

“You’ve done your research,” the Consul nodded. There was a hint of approval in his voice that made David want to do a cartwheel.

AWWWW

“I’d like to take care of the New York institute,” David said now. “Because Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild took care of me.”

And for the first time that evening, the Consul smiled. David wanted to burst into song.

AHHHH

this is beautiful

David couldn’t help but find that endearing. He wondered what it felt like to be loved like that. He wondered what it felt like to have a father like that – a father who couldn't stop loving his child even for a moment.

A love that was endless and tireless.

Every time he was in the presence of the Lightwood-Bane family he was reminded of what he had lost and what every child deserved.

It made him sad.

But then he would remember. He would remember that Max had grown up knowing nothing but this. Max had grown up with nothing but love.

It made him happy.

alright come here let me hug you

UHUHSCUICDUH "Why do you not like me"

“I know I worry too much about Max,” the Consul said, his smile sad now. “But I can only worry now. I won’t always be there to worry over him.”

it's 9 am boy

THESE TWO REALLY BE ASKING THE TRUE QUESTIONS

"Why are you scared of me" HSUHYUKDUMKDS WELL YOU SEE-

all we can really do is replace the bad memories with happier ones...

“No,” the Consul said, and David’s heart almost stopped. “I mean, of course I care. But I don’t have to be hard on you to show you that I do. There are many ways to show people we care about them without hurting them.”

David thought of his father then. He remembered the way his father had drawn the agony rune on his wrist and promised him it was because he loved David and wanted him to be strong. The memory hurt.

Jace and Clary bestest

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to intimidate you,” the Consul apologized.

that is so alec oh my god 😭

David looked him in the eye. “You’re Alec Lightwood.”

The man looked confused. “Is that supposed to mean something?

I'm smiling so much right now because yeah

yeah I get what he's saying

David hadn’t known that boys were allowed to kiss other boys – not until he heard about Alec Lightwood’s Accords Hall kiss.

David hadn’t known fairy tales existed outside of books - not until he heard about Alec Lightwood adopting a warlock baby with Magnus Bane.

David hadn’t known love can literally change the world – not until he heard about Alec Lightwood changing the world for the man he loved.

don't make me cry during linguistics

“Well,” the Consul chuckled. “To be entirely honest, I did all of that for Magnus.”

as he should

“Everything I have ever done has always been for Magnus,” the Consul said, his voice oddly soft.

we're talking about some wall in class and im here trying not to cry

my teacher just asked why some of us have our cameras off WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

“I don’t want to be a hero,” David confessed honestly. “I just thought if I ran away to a city full of heroes, they would protect me if someone tried to hurt me again.”

“What’s that?” the Consul frowned, pointing at his neck.

By the angel! David was going to have words with Max when he saw him again.

“Uh,” David said. “Mosquito bite.”

AHHHHHHHH MOSQUITO BITE

“Do you remember when Izzy got attacked by a demon in Edom?”

“And you drank my blood,” the Consul rolled his eyes.

“Aw,” the Dean of the Academy chuckled. “You do remember.”

poor David is stuck between them talking like this IM SCREAMING

He remembered the way Consul had blamed himself when Max had found the spoils room at the York Institute. The way he had believed he should have done better when his eldest son had been traumatized by foul rumours of the Clave.

oh honey no

There were people who got mad at themselves when things went wrong.

There were people who got mad at everyone around them when things went wrong.

While Alec Lightwood was the former, his son and David’s boyfriend, was definitely the latter.

I'm definitely both

“It wasn’t your fault,” David spoke up then. “When bad things happen to people, it’s because of the people who did those bad things. We shouldn’t atone for someone else’s sins.”

“Yeah. Stop atoning, dude,” the Dean said chuckled. “Listen to the boy.”

YES EVERYONE LISTEN TO DAVID

“And be careful,” the Consul said, his tone a little different now.

“I will keep an eye on-”

“No,” the Consul said and pointed at the hickey on David’s neck. “With Max. Be careful.”

David was pretty sure his face on fire.

OH MY GOD

IM SHAKING

“Um, we have the internet,” David pointed out.

The Consul blinked. “Right. Of course. The internet.”

yes

ao3 and Wattpad

KIDS DON'T GO ON THESE WEBSITES AT 11 JUST DO NOT

“If he gives you a hard time, don’t give up,” the man whispered like it was a secret. “You just need to weasel your way into his life.”

David chuckled. “Is that what you did?”

yup

“Yeah, and then he had the audacity to get accidentally get drunk and confess his love in the middle of the night.”

AWW SHE'S TELLING GIGI ABOUT THEIR PAST

“I did have a latte,” her mother said with a straight face.

Georgia didn’t find that funny.

I almost said "BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUNNY" before I realized that is exactly what I would've said

She knew her mother, like so many other people in her life, preferred to use humour to cope with the pain. They preferred to hide their pain away from other people.

Georgia never understood why people did that. Did they think others didn’t know what pain felt like? Everyone was in pain all the time – some kind of it at least. Everyone knew how to cope with it. So, it made more sense to share it than to carry it all by yourself.

i...I never look at it that way

Apparently, hand holding had special healing abilities at times like this.

yeah it really does

Georgia had hoped to find out herself. She had wondered so much about the baby.

tears. literal tears

It didn’t matter that Georgia had wanted to name the baby Abigail after the first iron sister. It didn’t matter that her father wanted to name the baby Jonathan to piss off Uncle Jace.

Abigail Jonathan Lightwood-Lovelace

FUCK OFF AND LET ME CRY IN PEACE

People said that poison was a coward’s weapon. But Georgia didn’t think so. It wasn’t easy to make poison. It wasn’t easy sneak it into the right place at the right time.

Whoever did this, they were not cowards. They were smart and they should be feared.

yeah, what did happen during the trial?

uh is Selena ok?

like genuinely

is she just a very heavy sleeper or...

MARYSE

Because sometimes the only comfort you needed was your mom.

yeah...

Except for random parts of the house that were incredibly organized – a sign Uncle Jace had been there

Yup.

“I’m staying in New York, mom. I’m going to help Selena and the centurions find out who did this to me,” her mother said, her words a promise. “And once I do, I’m going to strangle them with my whip.”

Yes you will

Anjali and Rafe

please be ok. please

HOW ABOUT WE DO A TRADE

ZARA'S LIFE FOR ANJALI'S 😄

ok I know that's not how it works but IM DESPERATE

her bedroom seems amazing though

Rafael gave so much shit to his dad because the other man had the habit of watching his husband sleep.

But now he sort of understood the fascination.

AWWWWW

“You do ballet?” he asked, holding up the ballet shoes.

slightly reminds me of rosa

OK WHO AM I KIDDING SHE TOTALLY DOES

the red binder

it's fucking genius

David can keep his flowers and cookies and scarves.

This, what he held in his hands right now, was the best thing anyone could ever give him. A file full of reforms to make the clave better.

IM SCREAMING

“You think I want to die and leave the Council in your cishet hands?”

YES BESTIE

“I don’t care what the Clave needs,” Rafael snapped, and Anjali momentarily looked taken aback. “I need you.”

he needs her

FUCK IT TIME TO CRY

“Bulgaria is known as the land of roses,” Rafael told her. “The Sofia Institute is built in the middle of a rose garden.”

“Oh,” Anjali’s eyes momentarily softened. “I like roses.”

you know that tiktok trend? the one which goes "listen it's a good joke it's a great joke even but i need you to stop" or smth like that?

yeah

His hand was itching to reach out and hold hers. So, he did just that. He reached out – very carefully – and took her hand in his own.

“I need you to get better, Anjali,” he whispered. “Cause I would very much like to take you there.”

HAND HOLDING

no she's not becoming a vampire

The part that was the shadowhunter – which told him she didn’t deserve to die over some angelic mishap.

The part that was the future Consul – which told him he needed Anjali on his side.

The part that was a Lightwood-Bane – which told him he should never give up fighting.

And then there was the part that was Rafael – just Rafael.

It told him he had to save his heart – no matter the consequences.

we're talking about some powerplant in geography and I'm crying over this

Anjali please please don't die

“Not everything,” Rafael told her. “I know someone who can help.”

WHO

GIVE ME A NAME

“Well, now we don’t know that for sure!” Max grinned. “Who knows what they get up to? Maybe there is someone occasional boning in the bone city.”

“How does manage to get more insufferable every time I meet him?” Jackson demanded.

i...never looked at it that way

OH JACKSON IS BECOMING A SILENT BROTHER

Max grinned widely at the other boy. “You wanna be my immortal buddy, Jack-Jack?”

OOP-

“The boys are back” he yelled, hugging David and Jackson. “Ty, our boys are back! Yas! The London Boys are back!”

THE LONDON BOYS

“Okay it’s a little disrespectful when you call her by the same name you call me,” Max pointed out.

“True,” Jackson nodded. “Irene shouldn’t be disrespected like that.”

YUYZXYSCGYZCGYUCUIZCVUH SCREAMING

"It’s hard being a celeb,” Max sighed dramatically.

“He is referring to the chaos you unleashed the last time you went there,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “People still remember you.”

“I’m memorable. It’s not my fault,” Max shrugged.

Max no more gambling bestie

“If the assassination attempt on Magnus had been successful, we wouldn’t be sitting and talking like this,” Kit pointed out. “The nephilim and downworlders would be at war.”

As they should. No one hurts Magnus

“So the target isn’t just Magnus Bane?” Jackson asked.

“Possibly,” Ty nodded. “The Consul and his husband…They are the ones who united the shadow world – with the Alliance. With their marriage. So, it’s not surprising that someone – seelie or not – wants to break it all down.”

with every line, I get closer to a breakdown

“There are people all around me to protect me from demons and crazy assassins,” Max smiled. “But you…You protect me from myself. So, don’t give me that I’m not good at protecting bullshit.”

so precious...

“Now let’s go find out which dumbass thought it would be a good idea to try and kill Magnus Fucking Bane.”

i have a few torture methods in mind

If shadowhunters couldn’t fight demons, it would put both downworlders and mundanes in danger. His father’s Clave – small as it was – did their best to keep the demons at bay. They were the only thing keeping the shadow world safe from demons.

Ikr?? Like David said earlier Alec's clave is literally the one doing the actual shadowhunting.

“Jackson is incredibly smart and perceptive. He knows what is good for him, David. He chose you to be his best friend. He has accepted that his family is gone for good and is finally focusing on his future. If this is what he wants to do and if this is who he wants to be, then you should trust that he has thought this through. He wouldn’t have chosen this life if he thought he wouldn’t be happy with it.”

TRUE

ALRIGHT WHO TF IS BEHIND ALL THIS

i just want to talk 🙂

“Great,” Max said, feeling frustrated. “So, someone created a fancy new poison just to kill my parents.”

“They did say something else,” Kit said, his tone worried. “The poison…It’s not entirely made of demonic properties.”

“Oh?” David said.

“It’s a mixture of angelic and demon properties,” Ty Blackthorn said. “And we know that-”

“Seelies,” Max whispered. “They have both angel and demon blood.”

Is anyone else scared?

GASP

WHAT IF

It's an angel and prince of hell working together?

ok that seems highly unlikely

“I don’t think you have a choice, bud,” Kit giggled. “Mina will have your head if you don’t get married. She has been working on a Pinterest board for years now.”

KIT

KIT

WHAT THE FUCK

OH MY GOD KIT

NO NO NO

HE CAN'T BE DEAD

NO FUCK NO

I'm absolutely loving all this angst so much. You said chapter 9 was the most angsty and frankly I can't wait :p

now...IF KIT AND ANJALI DIE I WILL BE VERY VERY SAD but the angst potential with Anjali though...NOPE NOPE NOPE. MY GIRL'S GONNA BE INQUISITOR I KNOW SHE WILL.

AHHHHHH THIS CHAPTER WAS A LOT LMAO.

I love how you are complaining but also thirsting for angst yall crazy.

I hope you are taking care of yourself and working on your entry for the competition!!!!!

Also the "we're talking about some wall in class" killed me lmao I laughed so hard fdhvjd.

#lbaf

[kar-krashew]

life could be a dream [AO3]

Alec navigates first dates, second dates, and general panic, while accidentally making a friend along the way. He's not sure how to feel about any of that, but it seems to be going okay.

Rated T for language and implied sexual content.

@arsenic-creator for you, my lovely ❤ This is an interlude, of sorts, between the Cars AU and the planned Cars 2 AU :D

Alec is ninety percent sure whoever came up with the concept of first dates was a sadist; who else would devise a concept so nerve-wracking and excruciating? Currently, he’s in a random hotel in Spiral Springs, aptly named as he’s spent the last hour spiraling into insanity as he tries to figure out what normal people wear on first dates with people like Magnus Bane. He can’t even call Izzy, because she’s off on some “important work trip” with Jace. (That basically means that they’re going to be mysterious and vague during phone calls the whole time— and that’s only if they answer. He knows better than to ask.)

Thus, Alec has two options: suffer, and show up to his first date with Magnus in his normal shitty worn-out jeans and shirt, or suffer more, and ask someone in town for help. Unfortunately, the only other people available to him are Raphael (Alec is pretty sure he’d be found dead the next morning if he asked Raphael about dating advice), Ragnor (the man dresses like a reclusive British hermit, Alec really doesn’t think asking him will help), and Simon.

Shit.

“Do I really need someone else’s help?” Alec asks his own reflection in the mirror, “I look fine, right? And it’s not like Simon’s got a better idea of how these dates work.”

He looks great, honestly! Probably. He’s fine, as long as he ignores the suspicious fraying of his collar and the faded white patches on his jeans, and okay, he lied, he does not look fine.

Also, Simon’s had like three pretty steady girlfriends already. The kid must be doing something right.

“Shit,” Alec groans again— out loud this time, for intended effect— before taking a deep breath and grabbing his phone.

Fine. If it takes talking to Simon, he’s going to talk to Simon. Besides, how bad could it be?

---

Really bad. Like, really fucking bad; Alec had forgotten how annoying Simon is, and he’s regretting this decision wholeheartedly now.

“No one’s really asked me for dating advice before, you know,” Simon says from where he’s rummaging through Alec’s suitcase, “And of the people I would expect to ask me, you’re, like, last on that list. Not in a bad way or anything, it’s just weird, you know?”

Alec does know. This is the third time Simon has said this.

“Sure, totally,” he grits out, watching Simon carelessly toss his neatly folded clothing onto the hotel bed. Alec is going to have to reorganize the whole case after this is over, because these sorts of things have systems and the kid is ruining it. This was definitely more trouble than it’s worth.

“Yep. Anyway, wow, I’m no expert, but you really don’t have a lot of options in here.” Simon whistles, pauses for a minute, then upends the entire suitcase onto the mattress before Alec can intercept. God, Alec’s going to strangle him. “That’s better! So, you seem to only have, like, one decent button-down, and those always look nice. Maybe pair it with a tighter pair of jeans? Your jacket would look nice with this, too, though I’d leave it out in this weather.” Simon tosses the articles of clothing towards Alec as he speaks, hitting Alec squarely in the face, but he’s already been distracted by something else before he can register the glare being sent his way.

“Okay,” he says after another moment, “Show me what you got.”

Alec’s skeptical, to be frank, but he decides to indulge Simon anyway, so he heads to the bathroom and tries on the outfit and—

Oh.

Simon’s really not bad at this thing. Izzy probably could’ve picked something a little more flattering, but this is way better than whatever Alec was wearing earlier; he didn’t even know he’d remembered to bring this shirt when he’d packed his bags.

“Hey, man, you look great!” Simon beams. “I wasn’t totally sure that would work out, but you look awesome! Magnus is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Lewis,” Alec replies, and he’s surprised to realize he means it. Simon’s grin stretches out wider, somehow, and Alec doesn’t even feel that annoyed.

(Oh no, does this mean he tolerates Simon now?)

“It’s gonna go great, Alec, don’t worry about it,” Simon responds, oblivious to Alec’s internal turmoil— Alec is seriously having a breakdown over the fact that Simon has somehow made it onto the short list of people Alec doesn’t want to punch on sight, because what the fuck does that say about Alec’s standards? His reputation is on the line. “Magnus has lived here for a while, which means I know him well enough to tell you that you make him really happy.” Alec stares at him blankly.

“I— That means a lot, actually,” he manages, then they both just kind of. . . stand there for a minute. Alec isn’t sure how to process the fact that they seem to be having a moment when he was preparing to initiate anti-Lewis measures just seconds ago, so it’s almost a relief when Simon ruins it with the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

“I feel like a proud mother sending her kid to prom. Do I need to give you a sex talk? No one actually gave me that speech when I was younger, but I did improv in highschool, so I could probably work something out.”

Scratch whatever he said earlier; Alec hates him.

---

The trauma Simon inflicts on him is almost completely worth it when Alec sees the way Magnus checks him out for a moment. The other’s standing outside the entrance to some obscure Chinese restaurant, smiling warmly and turning Alec’s knees to jello with his low-cut blue tunic and shimmery eyeliner (not helped by the fact that he has managed to find pants that are even tighter than his usual leather ones— Alec’s going to die of a heart attack before they can even enter the establishment).

“Hey,” he says, trying not to look stupidly overwhelmed at Magnus’s answering smile, “You, uh, you look amazing.”

“I could say the same, Alexander. This shirt is definitely doing you favors,” Magnus replies, and Alec blushes.

“Would it be completely unattractive if I admitted Simon picked it out for me?” he asks, half-serious, but Magnus just laughs, taking Alec’s hand in his own.

“Of course not. Remind me to thank him next time we meet.”

The rest of the night goes by in a blur: Alec’s sure that the restaurant and everything was amazing, but it’s hard to notice things like ambiance and food when one has a front row seat to the wonder that is the gentle tilt of Magnus’s mouth. He spends the night being regaled with far-fetched anecdotes in between shameless bouts of flirting and giggling, and it’s nice, it’s really nice; alone, away from cameras and parents, just the two of them tucked away in a cozy little corner booth together.

It’s kind of the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

Maybe first dates, Alec thinks, lying in bed later that night, the taste of lip gloss still faint on his tongue, aren’t too bad after all.

---

“Oh my gosh, are you going on dates and making friends? I’m so proud, my baby brother is all grown up,” Izzy sniffs over the phone, “Do we need to talk about safe sex?”

“Why is that the conclusion everyone draws? Do I look that repressed?” Alec groans, thinking back to Simon’s earlier pursuit to educate him on the carnal pleasures of the world. He’d managed to cut the kid off after the first use of the word “penetrative,” but it had been enough to fuel his nightmares for a solid two days afterwards. “Also, I’m older than you.”

“Details,” Izzy dismisses. “Speaking of which, spill! How was it? I still can’t believe you ran off to Spiral Springs without telling anyone. Mom must be absolutely livid, I just wish I was there to see it.”

Alec rolls his eyes, even though she can’t see it over the phone— the sentiment is there, and that’s what matters. “You would be here to see it if you weren’t off doing lord-knows-what in god-knows-where every other week with Jace,” he replies.

“Import-export business, Alec,” Izzy says, “I’ve told you this.”

“Right, the same way you’ve told me you can cook without poisoning everyone. We both know it’s a load of bullshit.”

“We’re getting off topic!” his sister exclaims, which is Izzy-speak for “We’re not talking about this for another year or so,” as she artfully changes the subject. “I believe I asked for specifics about your date with Magnus, hermano. You are not getting out of this.”

Luckily for her, Alec is easily distracted by even the vaguest thought or mention of Magnus, because he’s a total fucking sap and Izzy knows exactly how to use it to her advantage. He would say he hates her, but, well: he’s thinking about Magnus now. That’s infinitely more important, obviously.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he sighs. The exhale’s got this kind of pathetically lovesick quality to it, but he barrels on, praying Izzy won’t comment on it. “We ate, then he walked me back to the hotel and kissed me at the door before he left. It was amazing. God, Izzy, I like him so much.”

In a perfect, normal world, this would be an opportune time for Izzy to realize that Alec is kind of horribly vulnerable and honest when it comes to Magnus, and for her to be gentle and supportive about it. However, because normalcy is a pipe dream that Alec’s siblings are hellbent on crushing, he is treated instead to an inhumanly high-pitched squeal, followed by frantic shuffling before a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jace’s floods the phone speaker. Given that the most-definitely-Jace-voice is currently yelling something about condoms and endowment and the logistics of same-sex intercourse, Alec decides that hanging up is the appropriate course of action here.

(God, they’re the worst. He’s never going to talk to them again. Or at least, he’s not going to pick up their calls for the next week. Okay, maybe, like 3 days. Probably.)

Great, he thinks, mentally patting himself on the back. Now that that’s settled, he can get back to other matters, like fucking losing his mind because he had totally forgotten to ask Izzy how to plan a second date so he’s now screwed but he’s definitely not calling her back especially now that he knows Jace has her phone and that means he’s been left to his own resources to plan the perfect second date for Magnus and he’s going to have to do it all by himself and he’s going to fail spectacularly because he’s never had to do anything like this before and no one can help him unless—

Unless. . .

“Shit,” Alec says— out loud, for intended effect again, as a horrible flash of deja vu strikes him— which is how, minutes later, Simon ends up sprawled out on the hotel bed next to him at 4 pm on a Wednesday afternoon.

Alec should really start looking into better coping mechanisms before this becomes a problem.

“Okay, so the first thing about this is that you’re approaching it all wrong,” Simon says, sitting up to peer at Alec over his glasses. “Dates are about spending time together, not about being perfect, so don’t stress! What did you initially have in mind?”

That’s the issue: Alec didn’t have anything in mind, because when he had said that he’d organize the next date, he wasn’t exactly operating on full brain function. Impaired thought processes tend to be a common side effect around Magnus, now that Alec thinks about it— he should probably get that checked.

“I really have no clue,” Alec groans. “There’s so much that could go wrong! What if I take him somewhere that reminds him of his ex? Or I stumble and spill slushie all over his shoes and they’re brand new designer ones and he ends things with me on the spot? Or he hates the food there and realizes that my tastes are shit and he decides to cut his losses instead of being forced to eat shitty food everyday that he hangs out with me? Or—”

“Alec, jeez!” Simon interrupts. “Man, you’re kind of a mess about this, huh?”

Okay, rude. Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean it needs to be pointed out. Alec just groans louder, and lets his head fall heavily against the headboard. “I’m so fucked.”

Simon shakes his head, standing up to pose solemnly. “Don’t lose hope yet, young padawan! Come on, you gotta have something. What do you know he likes?” he says, and because Alec is a sucker when it comes to talking about Magnus (as established earlier), the tactic totally works.

“Okay, well,” he starts, “I know he likes expensive wines with names I can’t pronounce. He likes late nights and old classical music, but his ringtone changes every week to a different Britney Spears pop song. He’s kind of a horrible romantic, but I really like that about him. I. . . like a lot of things about him.”

Simon blinks for a moment, and Alec hurries to wipe the besotted smile that’s inevitably found its way onto his mouth. It’s too late, though— Simon’s already grinning back at him, looking too excited for his own good. “That’s so cheesy,” he coos, “But in, like, totally a good way, I promise.” He pats Alec’s shoulder, once, then stands up. “I think I have an idea of what would work. Any ideas in terms of the venue?”

“Oh,” Alec says after a moment. He’s still thinking about Magnus, which means he’s thinking about their previous meetings, which means he’s thinking about—

“Yeah,” he replies, “I have the perfect place in mind.”

---

“So, where are we headed?” Magnus asks. He’s beautiful like this, in the light of the passing streetlights, silver chains glinting like stars, silk tunic flowing like water, hair mussed from the wind. If Alec didn’t have a plan for this evening, he’d probably do something very dumb like slamming the breaks on the car and kissing him senseless. It’s not the first time he’s had the thought, not by a long shot.

Maybe he can fit that part later into the evening.

“You’ll see,” Alec replies, beaming a little at the pout it brings on Magnus’s— stupidly kissable— mouth. “It’s meant to be a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Magnus frowns, but he still leans forward as they pass by a familiar waterfall. Alec can see the moment he processes what that waterfall means, his face lighting up completely as he does so. “Are we going to the Dumont?”

Alec shrugs, trying to be mysterious, but he’s grinning too wide for it to mean anything but a yes. It’s fine; if ruining the surprise means that he gets to see Magnus’s bright smile an extra few moments earlier than planned, it’s totally worth it.

When they finally pull up next to the old sign, Magnus has already noticed the changes to the hotel. “Oh,” he gasps, stepping out of the car, “Alexander.”

Lights are strung up around the outdoor courtyard, with a singular table in the center, a candle and plates arranged across its surface. Simon’s standing there, dressed in a black dress shirt, grinning at the two of them as music plays softly from some unknown corner. It’s horribly cheesy and romantic, and, judging by the way Magnus is excitedly clutching Alec’s hand as they approach the table, it’s worked like a charm.

Alec could marry Simon after this; the kid’s a fucking genius.

“Good evening, sirs!” Simon grins, “Welcome to the Hotel Dumont. We’re so glad you could join us this evening.” He bows, pulling out a chair from behind him, and Magnus laughs delightedly.

“This is absolutely lovely!” he exclaims, settling down. “Did you come up with all this?”

Alec blushes, sitting down right beside him. “Well, Simon did most of the work,” he replies, and Simon shakes his head.

“He’s totally lying; he did, like, all of the decorations and set up, and most of the plan, too. I’m just glad to be of help, man.” He hands them menus, then steps back. “Alright, I’ll leave you two alone for a moment while you decide. Don’t do anything too scandalous!”

Alec rolls his eyes— because really, what could they get up to sitting like this?— but then Magnus places his hand on Alec’s thigh as he leans closer and okay, maybe there’s a lot they could get up to, and maybe Alec is now thinking about all those things in a setting he really should not be, and maybe he should’ve let Izzy give him that talk after all.

“Alexander,” Magnus smiles, leaning closer still, “All of this is amazing, I don’t know how to thank you enough.” He tilts his face up invitingly, and Alec’s helpless to the pull of it, pressing his lips against the other’s. It’s supposed to be just a light brush, but then Magnus shifts nearer and opens his mouth up a little further and fuck, Alec’s libido is suddenly making a desparate appearance in this very public locale. That’s an issue, probably. Whatever. He can’t really bring himself to care right now.

“Mm,” he hums between kisses, “we should really decide on what to eat— hm, before Simon comes back,” but then he chases after Magnus’s mouth right after saying it, so that undermines the message a little. Though no one can really say it’s his fault: kissing Magnus is temptation incarnate, and Alec is a weak, weak man.

They do, eventually, unfortunately, break apart, which is exactly when Simon finally shows up with some expensive drink that he’d sworn Magnus would like. It seems to fill the has-an-impossible-to-pronounce-name quota that Alec had mentioned earlier, so he’s rolling with it. He’s also rolling with the menu, because Alec had planned on pre-planned meals for this thing, so he has no clue where Simon had managed to get proper menus with a selection of food (though the Spanish-themed cuisine on the menu and the passive-aggressive text he receives the next day from Raphael might be able to explain that).

Simon’s left them and they’re finally finished with their courses when some even sappier song starts playing on the speakers, and Alec, being a total dork, stands up and invites Magnus to dance with him. Alec’s kind of shit at dancing, so he’s not sure why he does that, but they end up pressed against each other, swaying slowly, and he can’t even regret it, not even when Magnus laughs at him for stepping on his toes.

It’s perfect. Alec has no clue how he’s going to live up to this on future dates. He’s also, like, halfway to proposing on the spot.

“I reiterate my statement from earlier: this is absolutely lovely, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs after a while. His head’s pressed against Alec’s shoulder, so the words brush Alec’s ear softly as he speaks. “I have quite a bit of planning to do for our next date if this is the standard we’re setting already,” he teases.

“We could eat takeout on my couch while watching some boring regency-era movie and I’d still love it,” Alec replies bashfully, “I got a little nervous this time and went really big, but I promise you don’t have to go this hard to impress me.”

“And you thought you did?” Magnus asks. He pulls away slightly, looking Alec in the eyes. “Darling, the same goes for me. This is stunning, but I genuinely just like you and your company, and that takeout thing sounds more than enjoyable. Though we might have to revisit your opinion on regency-era movies.”

Alec grins. “Why, Mr. Bane, don’t tell me you enjoy watching such long-winded pieces of media, filled to the brim with such stuffy, superfluous dialogue?”

Magnus gasps, seemingly affronted. “How dare you!” he exclaims, “It’s about the drama, the yearning! I’m sure you just haven’t seen the right ones. Next time, I’m making you watch my entire collection.” Alec laughs in response, and it seems to soften something in Magnus’s eyes, because he pulls close again, tilting their foreheads together.

“You know, Mr. Lightwood,” he murmurs, “I’m not the sort of gentleman to invite someone into my home on only our second evening together, but I’m sure I could make an exception for someone of your stature, especially given the amount of time we’ve spent together outside of these official meetings.”

Oh fuck, this is really happening. “How scandalous, Mr. Bane,” Alec somehow manages, then Magnus is giggling and kissing him, and yeah, Alec is so on board with this plan. He’s even more on board with the plan when Magnus leads him to the car, and then leads him up the stairs to his loft.

He’s not even annoyed when he wakes up to Simon’s strangely supportive “Congrats on the sex!” text, because there’s a man lying against his chest who he thinks he could easily fall in love with, and literally nothing else matters right now. It’s him and Magnus against the world: everything else can wait.

(Alec replies to Simon with a single middle finger emoji. He likes the kid, but Simon doesn’t need to know that.)

(The Star Wars movie marathon the two of them end up doing a week later kind of gives it away anyway.)

#my writing #none of you follow me for my writing but i insist on posting it anyway #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #simon lewis #shadowhunters #malec fic

[slashscowboyboots]

Happy Taco Truck: Ice Cream Dreamboat (Part 1)

(all photo credit goes to owners)

I know it’s only been months, but it feels like years since I’ve shared a fic!  This is a continuation of @no-stone-no-bone​‘s awesome fic Duff’s Doughnuts (link here).  I agree with Skyler, I’d love to see other writers write about the different food trucks and make this a series.  This was supposed to be a one-shot, but as I am physically incapable of writing short fics, this is a two-parter.  Buckle in!

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ if you’d like to be tagged let me know, we all know how wonderful the tags work though

Warnings: language, sibling promiscuity, lonely cooking, terminal embarrassment, Axl and Tracii are Axl and Tracii

Thunk thunk thunk.

It was another scorcher inside your food truck, the vicious heat wafting off the griddle pummeling your face as you deftly raked your spatula through a pile of crisping beef tips, then piled them into a fluffy shell, handing it off for your sister Skyler to kiss with your award-winning cilantro lime crema and hand out to the customer.

You couldn’t resist moving up to the open side to watch the patron, a long-haired man wearing a nose chain with “Endless Burgers” stitched on his shirt, take a bite of your creation, then bend at the knees from ecstasy and dig a ten dollar bill from his pocket, stuffing it in your tip jar.

It has been gangbusters during the lunch rush in The Circle, the informal name given to the parking lot of ornery hooligans who fed the masses during the day and lingered behind late in the evening for a bit of recreational hell-raising. 

There was a plethora of culinary delights scattered around you, including Duff’s Doughnuts, Tracii and Phil’s Sno-Cones, Stoney & Cready’s Homewrecker Corndogs, and Jon and Richie’s Jersey Essentials (you never really knew what they were selling, apart from Aqua Net and the occasional cheesesteak, but after they began offering rippers-deep fried hot dogs-Skyler made frequent trips over to ask Richie if she could eat his weenie).  And from what you heard, they all knew how to throw down at night.

You never stayed to find out, though.  Your shyness forced you to fire up Helen the Happy Taco truck and drive home, leaving Skyler behind to do God-knows-what to who-knows-what, and you arrived in the mornings to find her either helping Kelly from Nickels’ BBQ feed his pink-painted porcine smoker, both of them covered in hickeys, or nearly trading blows with the loudmouth redhead who ran the ice cream truck.

Today, however, you’d found her with someone new.  When you pulled into the lot, you saw her with her arms wrapped around a guy with long hair wearing a flannel shirt and shorts, gazing raptly into his piercing blue eyes.  “Bye, Ed,” she murmured, pecking a kiss on his mouth.

“Who was that?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting skywards.

“Produce man,” she answered quickly.

“Were you getting us a good deal?’

“You know it.”

You peeled your gloves off and wiped your sweating face with a paper towel, trying to blot off as much grease as possible.  “I’m taking a break.  I need some ice cream.”

“I got you a frozen lemonade on my break.  It’s gonna taste like shit when you drink it with that ice cream.”

“I don’t care.”

“Punch that dick Axl in the face while you’re over there.  He’s on my last fucking nerve.”

You trudged down to “Axl and Izzy’s Frozen Delights,” eager to leave the brutal swelter inside your truck.  Standing in front of their window, you bent backwards and cracked your aching back, then a raspy voice asked, “Can I help you?”

You looked up into the most beautiful doe eyes you’d ever seen, hazel verging on gold in the afternoon sunlight, belonging to a guy with messy brown hair tied back with a bandanna, and suddenly your feet didn’t hurt anymore.  “Hi,” you said faintly.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you, and you felt your breath leave you.  “I’m Izzy, who might you be?”

“Y/N.”

“What can I get for you?”

Your brain instantly forgot how to make words.  “Cone,” you muttered.

His smile grew even bigger.  “What do you want in your cone?”

“Ice cream.”

He chuckled softly.  “What kind?”

“I don’t know.”

Those gorgeous eyes were full of merriment, crinkling at the corners.  “You don’t know?”

“No.”  Get ahold of yourself, you’re sounding like a moron.  “Uh, chocolate?”

“Sure.  I mean, as long as you’re sure about that.”  He winked at you, then turned to the freezer case behind him, and you got an exquisite view of his perfect ass, your mouth open and your breath coming in gasps, then he turned around and grinned, catching you mid-gawk, and you immediately wanted the earth to swallow you up.

“Thank you,” you blurted when he handed you your cone, then you turned to leave.  

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Uh huh?”  You couldn’t believe he was going to prolong putting up with your awkward ass.  

“Aren’t you going to pay me?”

“Oh,” you said, humiliation bringing a knot to your throat, and you handed him a crumpled pile of bills and scuttled away before you could cry.

“Sis, you mind if I head out a little early?” you asked.  “I’ve got a headache and I want to go home.”

“Sure.  I think we’re done for today.  You sure you’re okay?”

You hadn’t said a word all afternoon, just cooked and sweated and tried not to think about what a failure you were.  This was why you didn’t stick around at night, even though you longed to, to laugh and have fun with all the crazy characters around you.  Because you’d fuck it up if you did.

Why wasn’t I born normal? you thought bitterly.  Why am I the disaster in the family?

“Yeah,” you said quietly.  “I’m fine.”

That’s why your tacos were so delicious.  Because you were such a loser, you stayed home and perfected them instead of going out and having a life.  With no demands on your personal time, you discovered that lime made your chicken taco sing, while a little tomato sauce was the secret to juicier ground beef.

Your loneliness was the key to Happy Taco’s success.  

And you’d give everything you knew away just to be cool for five minutes.

“OPEN UP!!” a male voice hollered.  Bam!  Bam!  Bam!  “Little pig, little pig, let me in!”

Skyler dropped the hatch.  “Tracii!  Ferfucksakes!  We just got here!”

Tracii grinned under his bandanna.  “I wanna eat your taco.”

“It is an honor and a privilege to serve you a Happy Taco,” she answered, leaning on the counter and linking her fingers.  “However, we haven’t got anything set up and the only kind we can get you is our el pastor.”

“Okay,” he said, “gimme two,” and Skyler nodded to you.

You sliced the meat off the trompo, carefully evening out the sides, all the while reliving the embarrassment of the previous afternoon in your head.  Maybe you could drive Helen down to Baja California and start life anew, under a different name.

“Hey!” Tracii yelped, his eyes on you.  “I know you!  You’re the one Izzy was talking about last night,” and your knife nearly stabbed the metal pole holding up the pork and pineapple mass.

“Yeah,” he smiled lazily, “you are a looker, aren’t you?  How come you don’t party with us?  Izz said you seemed kinda shy.”

With your eyes wide and heart hammering, you handed the tacos to Skyler, whose mouth was hanging open in shock.

Before she could say anything, Tracii handed her his money and sauntered off, orgasmically moaning as he chewed, and Axl stepped up to the window.

“The fuck you want?” Skyler snapped.  “”It’s too early in the day for you to pick a fight, asshole.”

“I’m not here to fight,” he growled, slamming down a wad of dollars.  “This is from Izzy.  For her ice cream,” and he jutted his chin towards you.  “He says you eat for free at our truck.  The bo-both of you,”  he gritted, the agony of that idea etching deeply on his face.

“Thank you,” you smiled in surprise.

His eyes met yours, waving off your delight.  “Yeah, he’ll be down later.”

“Yes, thank you, Axl,” Skyler said.  “May we offer you an el pastor taco?”

“No,” he said, already retreating.  “Pork gives me the shits.”

Izzy did come by later, just in time for your sister to run off on her break.  

“Hi, Izzy,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Hey,” he smiled, looking delicious in his sunglasses.  “So what kind of tacos do you have?”

You recited the list.  “El pastor, carnitas, beef tips, seasoned ground beef, chicken, shrimp, and uh, lengua.”

“What’s that?”

“Uh, tongue.”

He pulled a face and stuck out his tongue, and you giggled, your shyness melting away at his goofiness.  “No, no, it’s really good.  Imagine the most tender, flavorful pot roast.  Everyone always orders seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass on the tongue, that one anyways, and have one shrimp and one chicken.  How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.  Uh, you and Axl, you eat for free here too.  Thank you, by the way, that’s very generous.”

He grinned wider, and you noticed he’d hadn’t stopped smiling at you since he showed up.  “Don’t mention it.”

You opened the shrimp and chicken containers, then threw the meat down on the griddle and moved it around, forcing yourself to focus on sauteing and not burning down the fucking truck because Izzy was outside.

He peeked in the window, looking around the interior of the truck.  “So how long have you been cooking?”

“Oh, since I was small.  I was at a stove before I could see over it.  These are all my grandmother's recipes.”  You scooped the fillings into their shells, then grabbed the crema.  

“Hey, I only ordered two,” Izzy protested when you handed him his tacos in a cardboard to-go basket.

“One of the chicken ones is Axl’s.  Consider it a peace offering.”

“Thank you.  Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if-”

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if I could get some fucking service around here,” a mullet-sporting, Confederate flag t-shirt wearing asshole growled, and Izzy waved, then walked away.

He returned the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, working his way through your menu and bringing you a different-flavored milkshake each time.  He loved all of the tacos he tried, even daring to sample the beef tongue, then immediately ordered another one.

“Told you,” you grinned.

He always made conversation with you while you cooked, his eyes locked on yours as he ate, but every time he finished, there was always a line to tend to, and Skyler made herself scarce as soon as she spotted him.  You never returned to his truck for ice cream, and spent your downtime cleaning the flattop, lighting out as soon as you turned over the CLOSED sign.

“You know,” your sister said to you as you turned the key in the ignition, “if you stayed, you’d probably hook up with Izzy.”

“No,” you said sadly, “I’m a hot mess.  I’d say something stupid and he’d run away.”

“Can’t talk with his tongue in your mouth,” she teased, “or some other part.”

“SKYLER!” you shrieked as she cackled, then you sighed and leaned your head against the steering wheel.  “I’m not like you.”

“You don’t have to be,” she said, leaning over and stroking your hair.  “Just give him a chance.”

“I can’t stay here and have Helen be a-a sin wagon.”

“It’s not like we have orgies!” Skyler laughed.  “At least your man doesn't.  He plays guitar and Axl sings, when he’s not being a dumbass.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  And then Izzy sings, and Kelly gives me The Look and……”

“Or the produce man shows up.”

“Or Eddie the produce man shows up.”  She gave you a slight smile.  “C’mon, Sis, stay.  He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“Then get to know him.  Axl says he’s pining.”

You looked at her in surprise.  “When did you talk to Axl?”

“When he told me that chicken taco you gave him was the best thing he’s ever had.”

You smiled at his praise, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel.  “Maybe I’ll stay sometime.”

“Pining,” Skyler said, then hopped off the truck.

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic

[echo-bleu]

straight through the smoke (1)

This is my gift to @killiarious for the 2020 Malec Secret Santa Event, now that the gifters’ identities have been revealed! The plot bunny got away from me, so there will be three chapters. Happy holidays!

[CW: death penalty (but no one dies), mentions of self-harm]

Read on AO3.

At the knock at his door, Magnus puts Madzie down on the ground, letting her run to Catarina. She’s been nervous, not quite understanding what’s going on, and she keeps randomly running up to them to hug them. The other warlocks are upstairs on the roof, in a meditative state to maintain the new wards over New York, while Magnus and his best friend stand ready to move the loft and its inhabitants to the Seelie Realm, if worst comes to worst.

He steels himself before opening the door. It’s the middle of the day, so it can’t be Raphael – Magnus just realizes now that he left him in the Institute on his own earlier this morning – and Luke texted him just a few minutes ago that he was still out on patrol. The Seelie Queen is back in her realm with her henchmen. That means that it can only be Shadowhunters.

Alec.

Magnus isn’t ready to deal with him. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready. Alec lying to him about the Soul Sword, about something that affects Magnus so directly, the safety of his people, isn’t something that Magnus can forgive easily. He understands why Alec did it, and he thinks that with time, he could come to trust Alec again, but he can’t start thinking about it until all of this is over.

And yet he can’t help but worry. Alec is out there, with his siblings and Clary, other people Magnus has come to care for, facing against two monsters. Valentine has proved more than dangerous, and with Jonathan’s help, he may well be unbeatable.

Magnus made the choice to leave them on their own. He chose his people over Alec, and while he would do it again, while he had to do it, the guilt is still eating at him.

He doesn’t know if he feels more hurt or guilty, right now. He feels crushed, more than anything else. He struggles to focus, his thoughts permanently turning back toward Alec. The current stillness, since his warlocks raised the wards, feels like the quiet before the storm, and it has left him with too much time to think.

“What do you—” Magnus starts, opening the door with more force than necessary, but it’s not Alec behind it.

It’s Clary.

“Magnus!” she exclaims as soon as he sees her. She looks twitchy and out of sorts, looking around her before she walks into the loft, almost stepping on Magnus’ feet.

“Biscuit,” Magnus says, forcing his voice to stay cold. He’s too fond of her to be angry, but he really doesn’t want to deal with her right now.

Except that she really seems scared.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” she says, waving her arms around nervously. “But I had to come.”

Magnus frowns in concern and gently guides her to the living room. Catarina stands up in alarm, while Madzie only looks up from the drawing she’s resumed for a second, unconcerned. Clary, with her small size and her nervousness, doesn’t make a threatening figure. Magnus discretely builds a bubble of silence around Madzie to muffle the sound of their conversations, so she doesn’t hear anything not meant for her little ears.

“Magnus?” Catarina asks suspiciously.

“Biscuit, tell me what’s wrong,” Magnus commands, making Clary sit down in the blue armchair. He waves at Catarina not to worry, but she still goes to stand closer to Madzie, straightening in a defensive posture.

Clary doesn’t even seem to notice. “The Clave took full control of the Institute,” she says. “They...they just stormed in and declared it. They said that the New York Downworld had violated the Accords and—” she trails off, too agitated to speak.

“And what?” Magnus prompts. He feels a leaden weight of anticipation in his stomach. This isn’t good.

“They said that the Downworld Cabinet facilitated it. That Alec—” she meets Magnus’ eyes, panicked. “That Alec colluded with you and betrayed the Clave. Magnus, they’ve arrested him for high treason.”

“What?” Magnus lets out before he can even control his mouth. It feels like a punch to his gut. In all the scenarios he went through, even the darkest ones where Alec got hurt or died by Valentine’s hands, Magnus’ fears were always about the divide between them. Between the Clave and the Seelie Queen, between the Nephilim and the Downworld. Between him and Alec. He never, ever imagined Alec being rejected by his own people.

“They said things about your relationship being unnatural and contaminating the whole Institute,” Clary says sadly. “That it should never have been allowed, that he was a disgrace to all Nephilim.”

Magnus swallows hard. He’s heard these words about himself, of course. He knows how the Clave sees him – barely with any more regard than Valentine himself does. The Circle has never been a true extremist group, not when too many people in power in Alicante agree with them. But to hear this about Alec, for the heinous crime of loving him?

“Where is he now?” he asks.

“In one of the basement cells, I think,” Clary says. “They put all of us on house arrest pending investigation. That means we’re confined to our rooms, essentially. I used a portal rune to come here.”

“If they find out you’re gone—” Magnus starts.

Clary bites her lip. “I know. But I had to do something. I heard them talking. They’ve called off the search for Valentine, and they’re putting Alec on trial today.”

Even Catarina looks shocked at that. Magnus sits down brutally, his legs no longer supporting him. He curses under his breath, if only to let out some of the unbearable tension.

“The Clave’s penalty for high treason…” he mutters.

“Is deruning, or death,” Catarina completes for him. “Magnus—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Magnus breathes out. “I had to—I had to keep my people safe, Alec understands that—but he’s a Nephilim, he’s supposed to be safe—” He puts his face in his hands.

“Magnus,” Clary calls softly. Magnus looks up, feeling like he’s being crushed by a weight larger than him. “Before they took him away, Alec told us not to contact you. That you couldn’t do anything.”

Against his will, Magnus lets out a noise that sounds too much like a whimper, struggling to breathe around the knot in his throat. He bites down on his fist, trying to calm himself down.

Even facing his own downfall, Alec would think of him first.

“Then why did you come?” Catarina asks Clary, coolly. She has no lost love for Shadowhunters, and she doesn’t know Clary at all. She knows Alec, though, and she knows how much Magnus loves him.

“Because there has to be something that we can do, and Magnus is the most likely to come up with an idea. We can’t let this happen!”

“This is the Clave we’re talking about,” Catarina says. “It’s not about letting it happen. They do what they decide to do, and they have full authority on their soldiers.”

“Magnus, you defended Izzy last year,” Clary says, turning back to Magnus. “Can’t you do it again?”

Magnus shake his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She barely got free, and only because you had the cup as leverage. And her crime was nothing, compared to this. The Clave is corrupt from top to bottom, Alec won’t be freed by legal means.”

“Then what do we do?” Clary asks.

“Nothing,” Catarina says firmly. Magnus looks up at her, and he can see the compassion in her eyes, but she stands her ground. “There’s nothing we can do. Any move against the Clave will be a declaration of war.”

Magnus stands up and starts pacing along the bay windows. “I think we’re past that point,” he says. “We’re already at war. They’re accusing Alec of complicity in a violation of the Accords, for the sole crime of his relationship with me. They’re not trying to arrest Valentine anymore. I think we have to assume that the Circle and the Clave are working together.”

“And you want to do what?” Catarina shits her stance, putting her hands on her hips. “Storm the Institute? Go head-to-head against the entire Clave? Magnus, you have our people to think about. They’re not going to risk their lives to get Alec back. I know you love him, but is he really worth risking all of them?” she points up toward the roof.

Magnus runs a hand down his face. “I already chose them, you, over him once. I broke up with him because I thought I had to choose between being with him, and the safety of my people.” He pauses. “But that was when I thought he would be safe. This is different.”

Clary wrings her hands, looking between them.

“You’re going to put us all in danger,” Catarina says, looking at Madzie, who is still drawing quietly, oblivious to her surroundings in the way only children can be. She can’t hear them, but Magnus still watches her for a moment to make sure that she’s okay.

“No,” he says. “I’m going to get Alec out of there, but I’m going alone. You’re staying here to keep the wards up and prepare to move to the Seelie Realm.”

“The Institute’s wards have been raised against all Downworlders,” Clary warns. “My portal can probably get you in, but—”

“You forget that I am the one who built these wards,” Magnus interrupts her. “I can get through them. I can deactivate them entirely, if I need to. And no Shadowhunter can get in or out of New York right now.”

“Magnus—” Catarina starts, but Magnus glares at her before she tries to convince him not to go. His decision is already made – nothing will stop him from saving Alec’s life. Not now.

She raises her hand in surrender. “Be careful. Come back to us.”

“I will,” Magnus says. “We will.”

*

Clary’s portal brings Magnus straight to Isabelle’s bedroom, and she steps back out to collect Jace from his own. Isabelle’s red-rimmed eyes widen when she sees Magnus and she saunters up to hug him, but she hesitates at the last moment, letting her arms fall back to her sides.

“Magnus,” she murmurs.

Magnus draws her into a hug. “Biscuit told me what happened,” he says.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispers brokenly.

Magnus closes his eyes in dismay. “We broke up, but it doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“This morning—”

“I was angry, and I was trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision,” Magnus explains. He’s ashamed of how he behaved at the Cabinet meeting, pretending like he barely knew them, letting the Queen speak for him. He won’t forget Alec’s lost and hurt look any time soon.

Jace and Clary come back at that moment. Isabelle gently pushes Magnus back and steps out of the hug, and Jace sends Magnus a furious glare.

“Calm down,” Magnus says. “I’m here to help.”

“Is that what you call it? Allying with the Seelie Queen? Raising wards around the city that kill any Shadowhunter who tries to leave? Leaving Alec behind?”

“I did what I had to do,” Magnus defends himself coldly. “Alec lied to me. Your people will see mine exterminated without so much as a blink.” He takes a breath to calm himself. “Alexander wasn’t supposed to be arrested. If you want my opinion, you should blame your grandmother. Your Clave.”

Jace almost lunges at him, but Clary holds him back with a hand around his waist. He glares at Magnus some more instead, then turns his back to them and goes to stand by the window.

“You have no idea how he’s been, the past few days, do you?” he says quietly. “When the Inquisitor arrived, he was training. Hand-to-hand, five on one. He refused to use iratzes between fights.”

Magnus takes in a breath. He’s known of Alec’s self-harming tendencies since the beginning of their relationship – how could he not? – but Alec hasn’t had to resort to something this bad in a while.

“Jace, that’s enough,” Isabelle says, just as quietly. “Magnus isn’t responsible for that. Alec’s had a rough year. We all have.”

Jace deflates. He’s absently massaging his parabatai rune with one hand, the other playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s been...a lot. And now this.”

“Magnus, I need you to know that—” Isabelle hesitates, biting her lip. “I know why you broke up with Alec, and I get it. He’s heartbroken, but he wants you safe first and foremost. He loves you more than anything.”

“Isabelle, what are you trying to tell me?” Magnus asks, guilt churning in his gut. He doesn’t have the patience for this, not right now.

Isabelle shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Before they arrested him, they gave him the opportunity to renounce you. If he told them your plans and made a public announcement disavowing you and the Cabinet, they would have let him go free and even keep his job. He refused. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Magnus shuts his eyes tightly, his head pounding. “Alexander,” he murmurs in dismay.

Self-sacrificing to a fault. Even when Magnus broke up with him, made it clear that their relationship was over, Alec wouldn’t save his own skin. “He could have done it, bought us time,” Magnus mutters, opening his eyes again. “He had to know that we wouldn’t believe it.”

Isabelle shakes her head. “That’s not Alec. He’ll die for what he believes in. And you’re everything to him. Not just you, but the Cabinet too, everything he’s accomplished to make us better.”

“He once told me that his family was everything to him,” Magnus sighs.

“And you’ve become part of it,” Isabelle says. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not together right now. You’re family.” She puts a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to get him out. As a family.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Shit,” Isabelle mutters. “Stay out of sight.” She stands up and, in one smooth move, removes her dress.

“What are you doing?” Jace hisses.

Magnus doesn’t bother averting his eyes. Neither he nor Isabelle are shy when it comes to nudity, and besides, she’s still in her underwear. “Buying us time,” she whispers.

She opens the door brusquely. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

“Whoa,” Magnus hears Raj’s voice. His blood boils. He has no lost love for this Shadowhunter, and if he’s working with the people trying to harm Alec— “What are you doing in here?”

“Changing,” Isabelle rolls her eyes.

“We’re supposed to escort you to the ceremony room,” Raj says. His voice isn’t as assured as it usually is. “The trial is about to start.”

Isabelle closes her eyes. “Already? Raj, what the fuck is going on out there?”

Raj sighs. “I don’t know. They said the warlocks raised wards around the city. We can’t get in or out. They’re expediting the trial, they want to have it done as soon as possible.”

Isabelle clasps a hand over her mouth. “Fuck,” she mutters. “Raj, you know he didn’t betray anyone, right?” She sounds small and vulnerable, and Magnus can’t tell how much of that is an act.

“I don’t like Bane, but Alec’s a good leader,” Raj says. “He doesn’t deserve this. But we can’t do anything. Come on, I have orders. We still have to get Jace and Clary.”

Isabelle runs a hand through her hair. “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

“Okay,” Raj grumbles. “But hurry up.”

Isabelle shuts the door firmly and turns back to Magnus and the others, her panic obvious on her face. “It’s too soon,” she whispers. “This can’t be happening.”

“We can’t get him out now,” Jace says. “There will be too many people. Even you can’t fight several hundreds Shadowhunters,” he adds to Magnus.

“How many of them are loyal to Alec?” Magnus asks, a plan starting to form in his head.

Isabelle bites her lip. “Enough to go against the Clave? I don’t know. Alec is well-liked, but we’re trained to respond to commands. It will be hard to go against direct orders, and many won’t be willing to risk their lives.” She steps back into her dress, quickly pulling it over her body.

“Even if the Inquisitor condemns him for something they know he didn’t do?” Magnus asks.

Jace takes a breath. “Alec is their Head. I’m the Inquisitor’s grandson. If we can show them another path, a clear way for them to follow us without too much danger…”

Isabelle’s eyes light up. “Since Alec became Head, we’ve had a lot of Shadowhunters requesting to be assigned to the Institute because they’re unsatisfied with the Clave, for a variety of reasons. Most of them will see that this whole trial is a sham. And even an expedited trial will take days, days we can spend convincing them. If we time it right, I’d say we can get...maybe a third of them to help.”

“If we time it right?” Clary repeats.

“If they sentence Alec to death,” Magnus understands in a breath. “It has to be last resort. If I can just get Alec out—”

“They’ll chase you wherever you go, and it will paint you in the worst light,” Jace says. “If they can claim that you kidnapped him, it will be an all-out war.”

Before Magnus can answer, Raj pounds on the door. “Isabelle, we have to go!”

Isabelle wrings her hands in anguish and turns to Clary. “Get yourself and Jace back to your rooms before they can see you’re gone. Magnus, can you glamour yourself invisible?”

“Yes,” Magnus nods. “I have to make some calls first, secure us the support of the Downworld. I doubt the Seelie Queen will help, but Luke and Raphael will. They only agreed to this deal with the Seelie Queen because I did.”

Jace’s face contorts in anger briefly, but he doesn’t say anything. This isn’t the time. Clary draws her portal rune in the air. “Go,” Isabelle says. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Magnus snaps his fingers to call his magic to his hand, ready for the glamour. “When you get there, start passing the word. Be discreet. I’ll handle Alec.”

As Jace and Clary walk through the portal, Isabelle gives Magnus a long look. “You saved me from being deruned once, Magnus, because Alec asked you to. I know you still love him. Can we count on you?”

“If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Magnus says coolly.

It seems to convince her. “Then let’s do this.”

#shadowhunters #malec #malec fic #alec lightwood #magnus bane #straight through the smoke #mine #echo's fanfiction #angst #malec secret santa #malec discord server #hmdiscord

[alecmagnuslwb]

The Great Marriage License Mystery

Read on AO3

Magnus groans, back feeling like hell. He lifts himself up and immediately falls off the couch landing directly on his back onto a stack of red solo cups.

“Fuck,” he shouts out as he rolls to the side to lift himself up, a party mask on a stick digging into his side.

“Stop being so loud,” a female voice he knows well grumbles from above. Magnus finally lifts himself up into a sitting position to see Isabelle lying face down surrounded by a nest of multi colored feather boas on the couch opposite the one he’d just fallen from.

Magnus finds the inner strength to stand looking around the room. It’s his apartment, not that he remembers coming home at all, and it’s a wreck. Cups, half empty bottles of liquor and an array of party favors from the evening’s festivities cover every surface. His paintings on the walls are crooked, the strip of photobooth pictures that he and Alec had taken on their trip to Tokyo for their one-month anniversary are sitting sadly in a puddle of something. He walks over squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming in and pics up the photo strip shaking them out best he can.

He sniffs them confirming the liquid to be vodka and not something worse. He pins them back up on the corkboard where they belong smiling at the happy looks on their faces despite the fact his head feels like there’s a tiny gnome with a hatchet running around inside of it.  

Isabelle shifts on the couch lying on her back now.

“Did we die?” she asks eyes still closed.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus says picking up a pink cowboy hat from the chair nearest to him and plopping down into it heavily.

“What time is it?” she asks pulling a few of the feather boas around her like a blanket.

Magnus looks down at his watch about to answer when his bedroom door suddenly slams open. A flash of long red hair streaks across the apartment headed straight for the bathroom.

Clary shuts the door behind her and an unfortunate heaving sound follows. Izzy sits up quickly eager to get to her fiancée, a decision she clearly immediately regrets if the way she woozily lies back down is anything to go by.

The bathroom door swings open a moment later, Alec steps out looking disheveled as hell wearing a Hunter’s moon t-shirt he definitely hadn’t been wearing when the night before had started.

“I don’t recommend sleeping in a bathtub when you’re 6”4,” he says voice gravelly from misuse. He squints his eyes grabbing a pair of sunglasses laying on the table as he walks past it and slips them on. “You might want to check on your fiancée, she’s throwing up half her body in there.”

Alec sits down heavily on the couch beside his sister patting her on the shoulder. She nods, takes a deep breath and centers herself standing up slowly. This time she makes it picking her way through the trash littering the floor her 8-inch heels somehow still secured to her feet.

“Your weddings in like four hours, just a reminder!” Magnus shouts and wishes he hadn’t. Judging from the way Alec plugs his ears and Izzy flips him off no one else does either. Hangovers all around it seems, a sign of a good bachelorette party.

Magnus listens for a few moments to Isabelle softly reassuring Clary, heels clicking on the tile of the bathroom floor. He looks over at his boyfriend once again heaving himself to stand and flop down beside him on the bed of boas.

“Good morning baby,” Alec grumbles lifting his arm and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus hums reaching up and entangling his fingers with Alec’s. He shifts enough to toss his legs over Alec’s and looks down noticing a piece of white paper sticking out from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows leaning back enough to pull the paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and practically jolts up from the couch. In looping script that looks like Isabelle’s is his name and what appears to be one half of a marriage license.

“Ummm Magnus!” Isabelle yells rushing out of the bathroom and directly to them on the couch. Alec shifts seemingly having fallen back asleep. She shakes a piece of paper in his face almost identical to his half. “This was in MY pocket.”

Magnus takes it from her lining it up with his. A piece of the full sheet is still missing only the last name Lightwood on Isabelle’s section the first name missing. She falls beside him seeing the almost full document.

“There’s no way,” he says laughing nervously. There’s no way.

Isabelle is just as alert as he in now, eyes in a panic. Alec sits up taking off his sunglasses. He looks from the papers to Magnus’s eyes, his eyes just as wide as his sisters.

“I also have this,” she says holding up her left hand revealing a diamond band on her thumb. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s one of mine,” Magnus says looking down at one of his empty fingers. “Oh, shit that’s one of mine.”

Alec falls back into the couch, no longer pressed into Magnus’ side.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Isabelle says dropping her head into her hands.

Clary comes out of the bathroom, eye makeup resembling a raccoon with a huge bottle of mouth wash in her hands. Chairman Meow appears circling around her socked feet trying to trip her up, she takes it in stride and steps over him easily.  

“Just in case,” she says when she notices Alec judging the bottle. “So, I’m guessing from those repetitive oh my gods it’s not us that got married last night.”

“No,” Isabelle moans dramatically throwing herself on the ground, arms tossed over her eyes. “I married my brother’s boyfriend probably as a dumb joke or something the night before my wedding. Jace will never let me live this down.”

“We don’t know that. It just says Lightwood, it could be us!” Magnus argues looking at his boyfriend uncertainly. Alec looks a little bit like a deer in the headlights so Magnus scrambles. He’s not really sure what’s the better option: accidentally marrying your boyfriend of two months in a drunken stupor or marrying your boyfriend’s sister as a joke in a drunken stupor. At least he hopes it was a dumb joke if it’s the latter, the former well he’s not sure if he and Alec are ready to get into that no matter how quickly their relationship has progressed. “Or you know it’s fake, fake is an option.”

Clary steps over inspecting the paper.

“Paper’s too high quality for a fake,” she shrugs sitting down on the coffee table. Magnus gives her a pointed look, making it clear she’s not helping this situation.

The four of them sit there silently for a while. Alec is the first to speak up.

“Okay, what does everyone remember from last night? Let’s piece this together,” he says reasonably opening the floor to whoever wants to start.

It takes about twenty minutes but they get a vague timeline from memory and other evidence pulled from their pockets. They scour the apartment as they talk making hangover remedies while desperately searching for the missing piece of the license.

So far they’ve determined things started here, pre-gaming with cocktails and dinner then it was the Hunter’s Moon where Magnus absolutely demolished Alec in a series of pool games. That’s when Alec lost his shirt as well, a beer spilled on him by Jace who’d already had far too much to drink. Magnus had forgotten the detail, but Alec recalls it with annoyed clarity.

After the Hunter’s Moon, Jace had been sent home in a cab, Maia, Bat and the rest of their friends had come along with them to Pandemonium and that was where things got blurry. By 11:30 their friends had all called it a night, but the four of them had hit the dancefloor. Dancing then turned into competition when Izzy had challenged Magnus and Alec to a couple’s tequila shot off. Magnus assumes they won considering how Clary handles her liquor.

Then it all goes well and truly blank for them all. Clary’s phone is missing entirely, Alec’s is dead and seemingly has been since at least midnight. Izzy’s phone is just a series of back and forth drunken texts with Jace that are increasingly sarcastic and misspelled.

Magnus is the only one with a possible lead. There’s evidence of a Lyft being called that took them to the venue where Izzy and Clary are getting married in mere hours and a 15-minute call with Raphael somewhere around one in the morning.

Magnus dials his number immediately hoping for answers.

“You asked me to go through the whole ceremony,” Raphael says after five minutes of making fun of them all. Magnus’ childhood best friend never did finish the process of becoming a full-blown preacher, not finding it for him in the end, but he’s ordained for weddings and had happily offered to do the ceremony when Clary and Izzy still hadn’t found someone two weeks before.

“Why?” the four ask in frustrated unison.

“Dios, I don’t know. You were all trashed but you insisted, so to get you to leave me alone because some of us who are involved in this wedding wanted to get a good night’s rest, I went through the whole thing, start to finish,” he explains.

“Did vows get exchanged or anything?” Alec asks.

“Not really, but you did all say ‘I do’ at some point I couldn’t tell who though, I’m pretty sure you were all outside,” Raphael answers. “Which in theory I guess would mean someone got married, but not that it matters I mean ordained or not without a license it’s not legally binding.”

They all sigh.

“That’s the problem,” Magnus grumbles. They end the call after that saying goodbyes and see you soons.

“Alright,” Alec says sounding the level headed big brother and leader he always is. “Here’s the plan’ everyone needs to shower first. We’re short on time so that means couples, no funny business though. Raphael said we were outside, so that probably means we couldn’t get into the venue when we decided to go. Magnus and I can ask around while the two of you get ready since we have to be there anyways.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And what do we do if it was us that got married?” Magnus asks gesturing between him and Izzy.

They’re all silent. Clary is the first to pipe up, taking this whole situation surprisingly well. Maybe throwing up half of one’s body weight brings clarity.

“I mean only the four of us saw it, it hasn’t been officially filed, just signed and if we give Raphael permission to mock us about it for the rest of our lives he won’t say anything,” she reasons.

She grabs Izzy’s hand pulling her to the shower leaving no room for argument.

Magnus blows out a long breath leaning against the kitchen counter where they’d all gathered. Alec joins him, crossing his arms.

“Are you mad I may have accidentally married your sister?” Magnus says quietly.

Alec snorts.

“No, we were all beyond drunk last night and knowing you and Izzy it was some competitive dare that went a step too far.”

Magnus chuckles, that does sound like them.

“And what if,” he pauses a little worried. “What if it was us that accidentally got married?”

Alec turns reaching up to pull a piece of confetti from Magnus’ hair. His hand slides down brushing Magnus’ cheek.

“Then we got married,” he shrugs.

Isabelle’s phone rings breaking the moment, on today of all days he’s fairly certain she’d appreciate them picking it up. It’s the caterer and the call takes long enough that he and Alec have barely five minutes for a shared shower before calling a cab to get to the venue. They don’t get to talk about Alec’s casual shrug about them being married like it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once they’re at the venue people start filing in Maryse and Maia take charge of Isabelle while Clary is drifted away by Simon and Jace. They both lock eyes with Magnus and Alec trusting them to get answers or burn the pieces of marriage license before the days over.

Alec is the first to be fully ready so he heads around to ask the staff some questions. He eventually is led to the night security guard who simply shrugs saying he’d fallen asleep on the job. The only evidence that they were even there is in the form of Magnus’ Lyft history and a feather boa exactly like the ones in Magnus’ apartment tangled in a bush outside. Alec sends him a picture of it attached with the message, ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be finding these around New York for the rest of the year.’

Everything goes by in a rush after that. Magnus never gets the chance to bring up anything to Alec as they take their places as groomsmen.

The wedding is beautiful, Raphael does an excellent job so much so that Clary’s stepdad bursts into tears only two lines in. Clary and Izzy exchange vows that make everyone else cry and Izzy dips Clary as they kiss to everyone’s delight. They look the happiest they’ve ever been, clearly no longer thinking about the possible mistake marriage that was.

Magnus however can’t think of anything else. The sun has fallen and the cake has been cut by the time he gets a moment alone with Alec. He steps outside for some fresh air just beside the bushes where the feather boa still flaps in the wind and Alec slips out behind him. Two long arms wrap around his waist and Magnus leans back into a strong chest.

They stand there quietly, the muffled sound of music behind them.

“You know,” Magnus says eventually. “You were pretty casual about the concept of us being accidentally married this morning.”

Alec once again the picture of nonchalance just shrugs.

“I mean at first it was a lot, but once the worst of the hangover subsided I realized if it was us well, that’s not the worst thing. I love you; I have intentions to be with you for as long as you’ll have me so that works.”

Magnus shifts so that Alec is standing in front of him eyes a little glassy. Alec takes the tears to be a bad thing.

“I get it though if it’s way too soon to be thinking or saying anything like that, or,” Alec freezes as Magnus puts a finger in front of his lips.

“I feel the same way,” he smiles. “I mean it’s not ideal and like Clary said it’s not official till it’s filed, but I do feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind we’re heading that way one day.”

Alec smiles kissing the tip of Magnus’ finger where it still rests against his lips. He pulls Magnus into a hug. Magnus rests his chin on Alec’s shoulder eyes still open and that’s when he spots it. The feather boa shifts in the wind and a small white piece of paper is revealed skewered on the prickly end of the bush.

He pulls back from Alec leaping down the two small steps to pick the piece of paper from the bush.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says snatching up the sliver of paper and flipping it over. The missing piece of the license. Alec steps over, joining him.

“Is that?” he starts looking over Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus nods holding it up for Alec to read. Alec smiles, pulling the Lightwood piece he’d been holding onto from his pocket as Magnus does the same with his part.

Alexander the missing piece reads in Isabelle’s looping script.

“Guess your stuck with me now,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly.

“Technically it hasn’t been filed, so not officially,” he jokes, pulling Magnus in by the waist. “Plus it’s in three pieces I don’t think the courthouse is going to accept it.”

“Pfft, just needs a little tape,” Magnus says gathering the three pieces of paper and folding them carefully before placing them in the inner pocket of his wine-red jacket a compliment to Alec’s black one and Isabelle’s deep red dress. “Plus, Clary’s stepdad is the Mayor, we can totally get some strings pulled.”

Alec laughs shifting to drape his arms over Magnus’ shoulders.

“You mean it?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “We have to have a party bigger than this one at some point though,” he says gesturing back to the reception hall. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alec says seriously.  “So we’re gonna be Mr. and Mr. Lightwood then?”

Magnus hums tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“I was thinking Mr. and Mr. Bane actually.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec says before pulling Magnus into a kiss.

They never do piece together the night exactly. Eventually Izzy gets the ring off her thumb and it fits Alec’s ring finger perfectly they discover, Magnus in turn realizes he has an exact double of it that he starts wearing himself. Why Isabelle filled out the license or if they kissed after they said I do or even actually said it is never truly answered.

Their actual marriage will be a mystery for the rest of their lives, but Magnus does get his party an acceptable six months after Clary and Izzy’s.

#my fic #malec #clizzy #shadowhunters #malec fic #clizzy fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #clary fray #isabelle lightwood #raphael santiago

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, killiarious!

For @killiarious. The plot bunny got away from me, so there will be three chapters.

Read On AO3

*****

straight through the smoke

At the knock at his door, Magnus puts Madzie down on the ground, letting her run to Catarina. She’s been nervous, not quite understanding what’s going on, and she keeps randomly running up to them to hug them. The other warlocks are upstairs on the roof, in a meditative state to maintain the new wards over New York, while Magnus and his best friend stand ready to move the loft and its inhabitants to the Seelie Realm, if worst comes to worst.

He steels himself before opening the door. It’s the middle of the day, so it can’t be Raphael – Magnus just realizes now that he left him in the Institute on his own earlier this morning – and Luke texted him just a few minutes ago that he was still out on patrol. The Seelie Queen is back in her realm with her henchmen. That means that it can only be Shadowhunters.

Alec.

Magnus isn’t ready to deal with him. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready. Alec lying to him about the Soul Sword , about something that affects Magnus so directly, the safety of his people , isn’t something that Magnus can forgive easily. He understands why Alec did it , and he thinks that with time, he could come to trust Alec again, but he can’t start thinking about it until all of this is over.

And yet he can’t help but worry. Alec is out there, with his siblings and Clary, other people Magnus has come to care for, facing against two monsters. Valentine has proved more than dangerous, and with Jonathan’s help, he may well be unbeatable.

Magnus made the choice to leave them on their own. He chose his people over Alec, and while he would do it again, while he had to do it, the guilt is still eating at him.

He doesn’t know if he feels more hurt or guilty, right now. He feels crushed, more than anything else. He struggles to focus, his thoughts permanently turning back toward Alec. The current stillness, since his warlocks raised the wards, feels like the quiet before the storm, and it has left him with too much time to think.

“What do you—” Magnus starts, opening the door with more force than necessary, but it’s not Alec behind it.

It’s Clary.

“Magnus!” she exclaims as soon as he sees her. She looks twitchy and out of sorts, looking around her before she walks into the loft, almost stepping on Magnus’ feet.

“Biscuit,” Magnus says, forcing his voice to stay cold. He’s too fond of her to be angry, but he really doesn’t want to deal with her right now.

Except that she really seems scared.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” she says, waving her arms around nervously. “But I had to come.”

Magnus frowns in concern and gently guides her to the living room. Catarina stands up in alarm, while Madzie only looks up from the drawing she’s resumed for a second, unconcerned. Clary, with her small size and her nervousness, doesn’t make a threatening figure. Magnus discretely builds a bubble of silence around Madzie to muffle the sound of their conversations, so she doesn’t hear anything not meant for her little ears .

“Magnus?” Catarina asks suspiciously.

“Biscuit, tell me what’s wrong,” Magnus commands, making Clary sit down in the blue armchair. He waves at Catarina not to worry, but she still goes to stand closer to Madzie, straightening in a defensive posture.

Clary doesn’t even seem to notice. “ The Clave took full control of the Institute,” she says. “They...they just stormed in and declared it. They said that the New York Downworld had violated the Accords and—” she trails off, too agitated to speak.

“And what?” Magnus prompts. He feels a leaden weight of anticipation in his stomach. This isn’t good.

“They said that the Downworld Cabinet facilitated it. That Alec—” she meets Magnus’ eyes, panicked. “That Alec colluded with you and betrayed the Clave. Magnus, they’ve arrested him for high treason.”

“What?” Magnus lets out before he can even control his mouth. It feels like a punch to his gut. In all the scenarios he went through, even the darkest ones where Alec got hurt or died by Valentine’s hands, Magnus’ fears were always about the divide between them. Between the Clave and the Seelie Queen, between the Nephilim and the Downworld. Between him and Alec. He never, ever imagined Alec being rejected by his own people.

“They said things about your relationship being unnatural and contaminating the whole Institute,” Clary says sadly. “That it should never have been allowed, that he was a disgrace to all Nephilim.”

Magnus swallows hard. He’s heard these words about himself, of course. He knows how the Clave sees him – barely with any more regard than Valentine himself does. The Circle has never been a true extremist group, not when too many people in power in Alicante agree with them. But to hear this about Alec, for the heinous crime of loving him?

“Where is he now?” he asks.

“In one of the basement cells, I think,” Clary says. “They put all of us on house arrest pending investigation. That means we’re confined to our rooms, essentially. I used a portal rune to come here.”

“If they find out you’re gone—” Magnus starts.

Clary bites her lip. “I know. But I had to do something . I heard them talking. They’ve called off the search for Valentine, and they’re putting Alec on trial today. ”

Even Catarina looks shocked at that. Magnus sits down brutally, his legs no longer supporting him. He curses under his breath, if only to let out some of the unbearable tension.

“The Clave’s penalty for high treason…” he mutters.

“Is deruning, or death,” Catarina completes for him. “Magnus—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Magnus breathes out. “I had to—I had to keep my people safe, Alec understands that—but he’s a Nephilim, he’s supposed to be safe—” He puts his face in his hands.

“Magnus,” Clary calls softly. Magnus looks up, feeling like he’s being crushed by a weight larger than him. “Before they took him away, Alec told us not to contact you. That you couldn’t do anything.”

A gainst his will, Magnus lets out a noise that sounds too much like a whimper, struggling to breathe around the knot in his throat. He bites down on his fist, trying to calm himself down .

Even facing his own downfall, Alec would think of him first.

“Then why did you come?” Catarina asks Clary, coolly. She has no lost love for Shadowhunters, and she doesn’t know Clary at all. She knows Alec, though, and she knows how much Magnus loves him.

“Because there has to be something that we can do, and Magnus is the most likely to come up with an idea. We can’t let this happen!”

“This is the Clave we’re talking about,” Catarina says. “It’s not about letting it happen. They do what they decide to do, and they have full authority on their soldiers.”

“Magnus, you defended Izzy last year,” Clary says, turning back to Magnus. “Can’t you do it again?”

Magnus shake his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She barely got free, and only because you had the cup as leverage. And her crime was nothing, compared to this. The Clave is corrupt from top to bottom, Alec won’t be freed by legal means.”

“Then what do we do?” Clary asks.

“Nothing,” Catarina says firmly. Magnus looks up at her, and he can see the compassion in her eyes, but she stands her ground. “There’s nothing we can do. Any move against the Clave will be a declaration of war.”

Magnus stands up and starts pacing along the bay windows. “I think we’re past that point,” he says. “We’re already at war. They’re accusing Alec of complicity in a violation of the Accords, for the sole crime of his relationship with me. They’re not trying to arrest Valentine anymore. I think we have to assume that the Circle and the Clave are working together.”

“And you want to do what?” Catarina shits her stance, putting her hands on her hips. “Storm the Institute? Go head-to-head against the entire Clave? Magnus, you have our people to think about. They’re not going to risk their lives to get Alec back. I know you love him, but is he really worth risking all of them?” she points up toward the roof.

Magnus runs a hand down his face. “I already chose them, you, over him once. I broke up with him because I thought I had to choose between being with him, and the safety of my people.” He pauses. “But that was when I thought he would be safe. This is different.”

Clary wrings her hands, looking between them.

“You’re going to put us all in danger,” Catarina says, looking at Madzie, who is still drawing quietly, oblivious to her surroundings in the way only children can be. She can’t hear them, but Magnus still watches her for a moment to make sure that she’s okay.

“No,” he says. “I’m going to get Alec out of there, but I’m going alone. You’re staying here to keep the wards up and prepare to move to the Seelie Realm.”

“The Institute’s wards have been raised against all Downworlders,” Clary warns. “My portal can probably get you in, but—”

“You forget that I am the one who built these wards,” Magnus interrupts her. “I can get through them. I can deactivate them entirely, if I need to. And no Shadowhunter can get in or out of New York right now.”

“Magnus—” Catarina starts, but Magnus glares at her before she tries to convince him not to go. His decision is already made – nothing will stop him from saving Alec’s life. Not now.

She raises her hand in surrender. “Be careful. Come back to us.”

“I will,” Magnus says. “We will.”

*

Clary’s portal brings Magnus straight to Isabelle’s bedroom, and she steps back out to collect Jace from his own. Isabelle’s red-rimmed eyes widen when she sees Magnus and she saunters up to hug him, but she hesitates at the last moment, letting her arms fall back to her sides.

“Magnus,” she murmurs.

Magnus draws her into a hug. “Biscuit told me what happened,” he says.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispers brokenly.

Magnus closes his eyes in dismay. “We broke up, but it doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“This morning—”

“I was angry, and I was trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision,” Magnus explains. He’s ashamed of how he behaved at the Cabinet meeting, pretending like he barely knew them, letting the Queen speak for him. He won’t forget Alec’s lost and hurt look any time soon.

Jace and Clary come back at that moment. Isabelle gently pushes Magnus back and steps out of the hug, and Jace sends Magnus a furious glare.

“Calm down,” Magnus says. “I’m here to help.”

“Is that what you call it? Allying with the Seelie Queen? Raising wards around the city that kill any Shadowhunter who tries to leave? Leaving Alec behind?”

“I did what I had to do,” Magnus defends himself coldly. “Alec lied to me. Your people will see mine exterminated without so much as a blink.” He takes a breath to calm himself. “Alexander wasn’t supposed to be arrested. If you want my opinion, you should blame your grandmother. Your Clave.”

Jace almost lunges at him, but Clary holds him back with a hand around his waist. He glares at Magnus some more instead, then turns his back to them and goes to stand by the window.

“You have no idea how he’s been, the past few days, do you?” he says quietly. “When the Inquisitor arrived, he was training. Hand-to-hand, five on one. He refused to use iratzes between fights.”

Magnus takes in a breath. He’s known of Alec’s self-harming tendencies since the beginning of their relationship – how could he not? – but Alec hasn’t had to resort to something this bad in a while.

“Jace, that’s enough,” Isabelle says, just as quietly. “Magnus isn’t responsible for that. Alec’s had a rough year. We all have.”

Jace deflates. He’s absently massaging his parabatai rune with one hand, the other playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s been...a lot. And now this.”

“Magnus, I need you to know that—” Isabelle hesitates, biting her lip. “I know why you broke up with Alec, and I get it. He’s heartbroken, but he wants you safe first and foremost. He loves you more than anything.”

“Isabelle, what are you trying to tell me?” Magnus asks, guilt churning in his gut. He doesn’t have the patience for this, not right now.

Isabelle shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Before they arrested him, they gave him the opportunity to renounce you. If he told them your plans and made a public announcement disavowing you and the Cabinet, they would have let him go free and even keep his job. He refused. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Magnus shuts his eyes tightly, his head pounding. “Alexander,” he murmurs in dismay.

Self-sacrificing to a fault. Even when Magnus broke up with him, made it clear that their relationship was over, Alec wouldn’t save his own skin. “He could have done it, bought us time,” Magnus mutters, opening his eyes again. “He had to know that we wouldn’t believe it.”

Isabelle shakes her head. “That’s not Alec. He’ll die for what he believes in. And you’re everything to him. Not just you, but the Cabinet too, everything he’s accomplished to make us better.”

“He once told me that his family was everything to him,” Magnus sighs.

“And you’ve become part of it,” Isabelle says. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not together right now. You’re family.” She puts a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to get him out. As a family.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Shit,” Isabelle mutters. “Stay out of sight.” She stands up and, in one smooth move, removes her dress.

“What are you doing?” Jace hisses.

Magnus doesn’t bother averting his eyes. Neither he nor Isabelle are shy when it comes to nudity, and besides, she’s still in her underwear. “Buying us time,” she whispers.

She opens the door brusquely. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

“Whoa,” Magnus hears Raj’s voice. His blood boils. He has no lost love for this Shadowhunter, and if he’s working with the people trying to harm Alec— “What are you doing in here?”

“Changing,” Isabelle rolls her eyes.

“We’re supposed to escort you to the ceremony room,” Raj says. His voice isn’t as assured as it usually is. “The trial is about to start.”

Isabelle closes her eyes. “Already? Raj, what the fuck is going on out there?”

Raj sighs. “I don’t know. They said the warlocks raised wards around the city. We can’t get in or out. They’re expediting the trial, they want to have it done as soon as possible.”

Isabelle clasps a hand over her mouth. “Fuck,” she mutters. “Raj, you know he didn’t betray anyone, right?” She sounds small and vulnerable, and Magnus can’t tell how much of that is an act.

“I don’t like Bane, but Alec’s a good leader,” Raj says. “He doesn’t deserve this. But we can’t do anything. Come on, I have orders. We still have to get Jace and Clary.”

Isabelle runs a hand through her hair. “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

“Okay,” Raj grumbles. “But hurry up.”

Isabelle shuts the door firmly and turns back to Magnus and the others, her panic obvious on her face. “It’s too soon,” she whispers. “This can’t be happening.”

“We can’t get him out now,” Jace says. “There will be too many people. Even you can’t fight several hundreds Shadowhunters,” he adds to Magnus.

“How many of them are loyal to Alec?” Magnus asks, a plan starting to form in his head.

I sabelle bites her lip. “Enough to go against the Clave? I don’t know. Alec is well-liked, but we’re trained to respond to commands. It will be hard to go against direct orders, and many won’t be willing to risk their lives.” She steps back into her dress, quickly pulling it over her body.

“Even if the Inquisitor condemns him for something they know he didn’t do?” Magnus asks.

Jace takes a breath. “Alec is their Head. I’m the Inquisitor’s grandson. If we can show them another path, a clear way for them to follow us without too much danger…”

Isabelle’s eyes light up. “Since Alec became Head, we’ve had a lot of Shadowhunters requesting to be assigned to the Institute because they’re unsatisfied with the Clave, for a variety of reasons. Most of them will see that this whole trial is a sham. And even an expedited trial will take days, days we can spend convincing them. If we time it right, I’d say we can get...maybe a third of them to help.”

“If we time it right?” Clary repeats.

“If they sentence Alec to death,” Magnus understands in a breath. “It has to be last resort. If I can just get Alec out—”

“They’ll chase you wherever you go, and it will paint you in the worst light,” Jace says. “If they can claim that you kidnapped him, it will be an all-out war.”

B efore Magnus can answer, Raj pounds on the door. “Isabelle, we have to go!”

Isabelle wrings her hands in anguish and turns to Clary. “Get yourself and Jace back to your rooms before they can see you’re gone. Magnus, can you glamour yourself invisible?”

“Yes,” Magnus nods. “I have to make some calls first, secure us the support of the Downworld. I doubt the Seelie Queen will help, but Luke and Raphael will. They only agreed to this deal with the Seelie Queen because I did.”

J ace’s face contorts in anger briefly, but he doesn’t say anything. This isn’t the time. Clary draws her portal rune in the air. “Go,” Isabelle says. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Magnus snaps his fingers to call his magic to his hand, ready for the glamour. “When you get there, start passing the word. Be discreet. I’ll handle Alec.”

As Jace and Clary walk through the portal, Isabelle gives Magnus a long look. “You saved me from being deruned once, Magnus, because Alec asked you to. I know you still love him. Can we count on you?”

“If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Magnus says coolly.

It seems to convince her. “Then let’s do this.”

TBC on AO3!

#killiarious #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[normal-thoughts-official]

Thoughts on rizzy 👀

jdndkdndidndidn ok so if u wanted a rizzy-positive answer...... avert ur eyes

the one thing positive (?) i can say about rizzy is that it really brought us some of the softest raphael moments, but i also lowkey hate that cuz wow, we really got him to talk about his sister, his past, see some of his interests, his softness, his pains, his smiles because of rizzy... so it's all related to rizzy 💀 which is why you might see some gifsets from rizzy scenes in my blog, i think this might have been what brought this on. i enjoy those scenes as scenes that establish raphael's character, but not as rizzy

and shoutout to sh as usual for only bothering with giving a coc depth, backstory, desires and etc when they were someone's love interest and then dropping them like a hot potato. like bro imagine if they had at least bothered with keeping raphael's characterisation consistent? id be over the moon already. if they had actually made him a person like when rizzy was a thing for the whole show on top of that?? fuck i think id explode in happiness

other than that..... i hate everything about it. and like, it being based on addiction aside (which is already, like, bad, but i could maybe ship them in an alternate reality where the addiction wasn't a thing and they were fine if it was only that), the whole thing was literally Izzy Treats Raphael Like Shit And Then Raphael Is Villainized For It

im not even gonna get into the whole "raphael is blamed for the yin fen thing for some fucking reason when that was not his fucking fault and no one questions this" thing because ive done it before and i might explode with rage if i do, lol. that fucking plotline would have never been handled like that if raphael wasn't latino and therefore a predator drug dealer stereotype. but ANYWAY

those are the two things that i see anti rizzy shippers talking about the most, but those are actually not what bothers me the most. what really drives me up the wall and is just vomiting emoji is the way izzy treats raphael. that's the dealbreaker for me and something that never gets acknowledged

like, for starters, raphael was once again shown to be one of the most caring and selfless characters in this piece of shit stupid show, when he saved izzy's life when she was stupid enough to actually go to a vampire den. she had done nothing but be shitty to him and the vampires up to that point, mind you (which some ppl in this fandom treat as like #GirlPower or something) but he still saved her life for no reason other than that was the right thing to do

and then she immediately, the same second, tried to trigger him into drinking her blood. and he kept telling her no and pushing her away and she was literally GRABBING him and slitting her wrist and then he caved, at great personal cost, which she didn't care about

fine

then we get her going after him again, and raphael, again, being the caring and selfless bastard that he is, does something so monumentally kind and dangerous that it still blows me away: he tells her about his addiction

and i know that ppl in this fandom love to act as if every single thing raphael did for the sake of other characters, particularly the shadowhunters and simon, is just, like, expected and no big deal. but raphael didn't owe izzy that. he didn't have to tell izzy that. hell, he didn't even have to save izzy's life when she went to the den, for all he knew it was all a trick or something. and telling her, someone he doesn't even know, a shadowhunter, not only one of his greatest secrets, not only one of his greatest vulnerabilities, but the single hardest and most painful moment of his life, a whole can of worms about his past that he just bared to her just like that, was just. so much. it was such a huge thing that he did for her, okay. and let's not forget that raphael is a private person, both for survival and because he just is

he basically opened up his biggest wound and showed it to her only because it could bring her some sort of comfort. it wouldn't even help her greatly. it wouldn't even change anything about her situation. it would bring just maybe a little bit of comfort and advice, at great personal cost, way greater than the good it would bring her. and he still did it, because raphael cares, especially when he sees someone going through something he went through as well. just so he could tell her that it gets better, that she's not alone. that he understands

and she fucking!! immediately!!!! uses that against him!!!!!! and continues to try to trigger his addiction again and again and again and again!!!! may i just say, WHAT THE FUCK

EVERY SINGLE TIME she tries to get him to drink her blood, it's not consensual, it's forced. he always hesitates, always tries to push her away, always turns his head. and she just pushes him anyway. even after she knows that he's been through this before. that it almost destroyed him. she knows exactly what she's triggering and bringing on, and she! does! it! anyway!!

watching some of the rizzy scenes, particularly the one where they are cooking together, makes me want to cry for him, because it's so obvious that what he's looking for is a deeper connection, someone to trust, to love, and what she's looking for is someone to satisfy her need. and look, i know addiction is terrible. but he's ALSO addicted. and again, i've met plenty of ppl who struggled with addiction, and they were able of, you know, not treating others like this

it drives me crazy! raphael lets her into his home, teaches her how to cook, opens up about the SINGLE SECRET ABOUT HIM THAT NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT EXCEPT FOR MAGNUS, and generally tries to have a good time with her, and not only does she immediately make his attempt at having a meaningful bonding time about him drinking her blood, but does it RIGHT AFTER HE TELLS HER ABOUT HIS SISTER??? it literally goes "here is my deepest most important secret that pains me greatly and is destroying me inside. oh, i said too much. i should have kept my mouth shut" "i'd rather you didn't *slits own wrist and makes him drink her blood*". like, girl, at least a word of comfort first??? a "you can tell me whatever you like"? an "i'm fucking sorry for your loss" maybe???????????? SHE TREATED HIM LIKE AN OBJECT

and also SHOUT THE FUCK OUT to "i didn't take you for a community service kind of guy", which granted is a minor thing to be upset about in the middle of this shitstorm, but still makes me want to rip my hair off. girl!! he's been doing nothing ever since you first met but helping you selflessly and getting only PAIN in return. like is she for real??? he went out of his way SO many times to help her, when he had NO reason to, not a single one. and she's still like "oh wow raphael cares about others?? im shocked" UDBDIDNDKSMSOSNSOSNSISBSUSBDUDBDIDNDIDNDI ARE YOU SERIOUSSSS

it's really such a revealing moment to me because it really shows that she didn't give any thought about everything he'd done for her. all the endless kindness and care, in the literal sense of TAKING CARE OF, that he offered her without a second thought. she never stopped to think about what it cost him. the fact that he didn't OWE IT TO HER, and thus it says something about his CHARACTER, because he CHOSE to help her. over and over and over again!!! AFTER SHE BETRAYED HIM MORE THAN ONCE. it never even crossed her mind! she just took it for granted, like it's what he was supposed to do, or something

and then!!!!!!! even after they go their separate ways!! and raphael is STILL caring for her and making sure she's okay! she decides to betray him one last time and have simon threaten his sister!!! and ill be honest i dont remember the reason for this, but i do remember that it wasn't fucking life and death, so like!!! it was just unnecessarily cruel and shitty of her and the biggest FUCK YOU to him and his trust. AND IT WASN'T NECESSARY AT ALL. like. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

and at this point izzy was recovering so it's just like. i get that before that we were literally seeing izzy at her ugliest, she even fought alec and said some shit that she definitely didn't mean at all and that was shitty and hurtful. so like obviously we were seeing izzy in her darkest, worst, most selfish, most hurt. which is why i can maybe cut her some slack for some shit (also i just realized i literally forgot that she straight up THREATENED HIM WITH A KNIFE god there is really So Much To Unpack Here), but at that point? at that point she had no excuse. she was recovering. this didn't even have anything to do with her addiction anyway. she was just proving that raphael's trust, his care, his fucking feelings, they meant nothing to her

like seriously! she could at least have the decency to go, after raphael was very obviously kind and considerate to me, maybe i should not conspire against him and bring forward his most important secret? i don't think i'm asking her for much here

and it also ends a circle of raphael opening up to her and trusting her and she betraying that trust EVERY SINGLE TIME! the literal single only thing he told her that she didn't use against him was his asexuality. which look, thank god, cuz that would have been way too ugly and uncalled for, but the bar is low here

(ok, maybe rizzy gets a shoutout for having raphael's asexuality be treated so naturally. especially coming from such an overtly sexual character like izzy. it was nice to have that. i also think that her whole line about how for the first time sex wasn't a big part of a relationship for her could have been explored in so many interesting ways. like it is obvious that izzy uses her sexuality as a way to gain confidence and prove her value and it would be cool to see that being addressed beyond throwaway lines, maybe talk a bit about hypersexualization of woc. but this is shadowhunters we're talking about so of course nah)

so like okay izzy gets a Not An Aphobe But Still Shitty badge for basically using raphael like he existed to provide her. and in short this is why i can't get into rizzy, not even in a very very alternate reality where it all went different and the way they met had nothing to do with addiction. because she really didn't care enough about him and he deserves so much better than this

and again, i know that izzy was at her damn lowest in that point, but i think that even if she weren't, ultimately their incompatibility still lies there - raphael is too selfless and izzy is not attuned to that. she would take what he offered and not really spare it a thought, even if she didn't mean to like, Use Him (cuz i dont think izzy meant to use him even in canon), like it was just expected. and he wouldn't point that out. and it would be. ugh

and yeah i think that summarizes my thoughts dudndjdn im sorry for the angry very long rant, i just started talking and it all was pouring out suddenly. i promise im not mad, i just...... have strong feelings about this whole thing

#anti rizzy #anti izzy lightwood #anti sh #anti sh fandom #salt #discourse #ask #anonymous #long post

[lilacyennefer]

Finally, Beautiful Stranger Chapter 14, Part 1

A/N: I know it's been way too long, but I wanted this chapter to be perfect, and to be honest, I really really love how it turned out. I had publish it in two part because it got too long, but the next part will be posted today too so you don't have to wait for long. I lowkey cried during writing this, and I hope you guys will too. 

TW: none, maybe some language but it's really just tooth rotting fluff

“Are you sure you want this?” you ask Will as the two of you are standing in the door of the house you share, a bag in Will’s hands, he’s ready to leave.

“Yes, I am. We didn’t really keep any other traditions when it comes to a wedding, but let’s do this one.” Will says. 

A few days ago, he came up with the idea that you should spend the night before your wedding apart and you shouldn’t see each other until the wedding. First, you thought it was stupid, but the more you thought about the idea, the more you liked it. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Will whispers as he steps closer to you “At the altar.” he leans down to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. 

“I’ll be the one in white.” you smile at him, and he gives you another kiss for the last time before he goes to spend the night at Benny. 

----------

“Oh, holy shit.” you say nervously as you’re standing in front of the mirror, wearing your wedding dress. 

“It’s your wedding day, Isabelle. Don’t curse!” your mother scolds you. You roll your eyes, but leave it up to her.

It’s your wedding day, and the closer you get to the ceremony, the more nervous you are. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” your mother asks you, but before you could answer, you hear a knock on the door. 

“I got it.” Kate says, and she goes to open the door. You hear Benny mumbling something, and he steps into your dressing room. 

“He wants to talk to you alone.” Kate states, you nod and see her, Natalie, and your mother leaving the room, leaving you alone with Ben.

“Is something wrong? Did Will change his mind?” you ask nervously as you step closer to him.

“No, no.” Ben shakes his head “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay.” you nod. 

“You’re breathtaking, Isabelle.” Benny says “My brother is one lucky man.” You smile at him sweetly.

“Thank you, baby. You look really dashing.” And he really does. He’s wearing a simple black suit with a royal blue tie, and for once, he’s not wearing that god damn hat. You swear you could see him blush a little, before he started speaking again. 

“I wanted to check up on you, to see you before everyone else does. But, I also wanted to tell you a few words before you officially become my sister-in-law.” Ben starts. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m really glad that my brother found you. You know, he was not himself in the last couple of years, before he met you. He wouldn’t say it, but he was constantly sad and hopeless. And that night, when we first met with you at the bar, I saw something change in him. And the closer the two of you got, the more I saw him becoming his old self again. It’s almost like he has a golden, happy glow now, if that makes sense.” the whole time Benny’s eyes were fixed on the floor, but now he’s finally looking you in the eyes. “I guess I just want to say, thank you for making my brother happy. He deserves it more than anyone else after what he went through, and I’m glad that someone like you makes him happy. You’re truly amazing, the way how you care about not just him, but about me too. I’m not your responsibility, yet you care about me like I am. I’m just grateful for you, and for your beautiful self.” he finishes his words with a small smile. Ever since he started talking, you had tears in your eyes, and by the end you’re almost crying.

“Fucking hell, Benny. I’m gonna ruin my makeup with the crying.” you tell him playfully, and you blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears from falling. 

“Come here, my big baby!” you tell him and invite him for a big hug. “I’m so happy that you’re in my life. And I forever will love you and your brother.” you pull away and cup his face in your hand. Even with your heels on, he’s still a lot taller than you. 

“You can alway count on me in everything. Consider me as a safe space.” you say and Ben lets out a small laugh. 

“I know, Izzy. And thank you.” he leans down to kiss you on the cheeks before your other comes back into the room, telling you it’s almost time. 

You hear the music start as you stand in front of the closed door of the venue, ready to go inside. Your heart beats so fast you’re afraid it might rip your chest open, and you take several deep breaths before the door opens, revealing the guest to you, but most importantly Will, who’s waiting for you on the end of the aisle. 

In that moment when you see him, standing in his suit, waiting for you, suddenly everything and everyone disappeared, your focus is solely on Will, he’s the only one who matters. Your previous nervousness all went away as you slowly started walking towards him, your eyes never leaving his, and his never leaves yours. 

You’re slowly walking closer and closer to him, and when you’re finally close enough, you can see tears rolling down on his face as he’s watching you. 

He reaches a hand out to you, and you take it, as you take the last few steps and you’re finally, finally, standing in front of William. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers to you, and you squeeze his hand before you let it go to wipe a few of his tears. 

The marriage officiant started the ceremony, but you only could focus on Will and the way how he looks at you, like you’re his whole universe. And to be fair, you are his whole universe. 

“And now, the wedding vows.” You hear the officiant say, and he gives Will a microphone. You’re still holding one of Will’s hands, your eyes never left his since you stood in front of him. William takes another deep breath before he starts his speech. 

“I carry your heart with me (i carry it in

My heart) i am never without it (anywhere

I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

By only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear

No fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

No world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

And it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

And whatever a sun will always sing is you

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

And the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

Higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”*

You’re fully crying by the end, tears rolling down on your face, not bothering about your makeup. 

“Gosh, I love you so much.” You whisper, and it’s Will’s turn now to wipe your tears. You take the microphone from Will, you swallow and lick your lips before you start to speak. 

“Now, I don’t know how I’ll top that, but I’ll try.” You joke, and laughter fills the room, and Will flashes his breathtaking smile at you. You enjoy this small moment before you turn serious.

“William, my love. It’s really hard to put into words how much I love you and how much you mean to me, but I’ll try.” You take a deep breath, and start speaking again “You are the best thing what ever happened to me. I didn’t experience true love until I met with you, I didn’t know what it’s like when someone gives their whole heart to you, and what it means to be really in love, that kind of love what moves the earth and stars, and you feel like you can’t breathe without your partner next to you. But this is how I feel, I feel that without you, nothing makes sense, it’s like a part of me is missing when you’re not with me. There’s this Greek myth about soulmates, that humans originally were created with four legs, four arms, and a head with two faces. But Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. I didn’t believe this until I met with you, because in that moment I saw you, something clicked, and I felt like I finally was a whole, like I found a part of me which I didn’t know I was missing.” You squeeze Will’s hand what you’re holding, he’s crying as hard as you do. “William, my love. Thank you for your beautiful heart and soul that you share with me everyday, thank you for making me the happiest person ever, and I promise you that your heart will always be safe with me. I love you.” You give the microphone back to the marriage officiant, you and Will are wiping each other’s tears. 

“And now, the rings.” the officiant says, and Benny steps closer to the two of you, giving Will your ring, and Will’s to you. 

“Do you, Isabelle Teller, take William Miller as your lawful wedded husband?”

“I do.” you say smiling.

“Do you, William Miller, take Isabelle Teller, as your lawful wedded wife?”

“I do.” Will says, and you slip the ring on his finger, and he does the same to you.

“You may kiss your wife.” Will doesn’t even wait for the officiant  to finish the sentence, his arms are around you, lifting you up slightly as he kisses you passionately, your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. You faintly can hear clapping and cheering, but your focus, like before, is only on Will.

You only pull apart when you feel your lungs screaming for air, and you look around and see everyone standing and clapping, cheering, and some people are even yelling. You look back at Will, whose eyes are on you, he’s watching you with a big smile. 

“I love you so much.” you whisper, and kiss Will again. 

The Wedding Reception was beautiful, the food was amazing and everyone had an amazing time. Will and you stayed side by side the whole night, none of you felt like spending even one minute without each other. 

Your first dance as husband and wife was even more beautiful and magical, you were really nervous about it, neither you or Will are particularly dancing types, so you had to take dance lessons before the wedding, but you were still nervous about it. But all your worries went away when you were in Will’s arms, dancing slowly to your chosen music, and again, during the whole time, your focus was only on Will, and his on you. By the end of your dance, no eyes in the room left dry, almost everyone was crying, or had tears in their eyes.

And now, you’re sitting at the table, Will next to you, his face is hidden in your neck right now, kissing and nipping gently. You usually are not big on PDA, but it’s your wedding day, you just got married to the love of your life, and you never saw Will happier than he is now, so you only care about the two of you. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he whispers close to your face.

“Not in the last 5 minutes, you didn’t.” you reply.

“That’s too bad, because you’re breathtakingly beautiful.” he says, and you smile at him, but before you could answer, you see Ben stand up and hit his glass of champagne with a knife. 

“Sorry to disturb everyone’s fun, but I’d like to say a few words.”

“Oh, god.” you hear Will mumble next to you, and you let out a chuckle. 

“You guys probably expect a speech from me where I say awkward things about my brother, and now sister-in-law. But that won’t be the case, brother, so you can calm down.” laughter fills the room, and Benny waits until it calms down before he continues. “I just wanted to say, how grateful I am that someone like you, Iz, takes care of my brother. You’re truly a wonder, and my brother is the luckiest man ever to have someone like you as his wife. And you, my brother, you are the best big brother anyone could ever ask for, and you deserve true happiness, and I’m really glad that you’ve found it in someone like Isabelle. I’m really glad to have a family like this.” you see Benny swallow his tears back before he raises his glass of champagne “To this beautiful couple!” he says, and everyone in the room repeats it and cheers. 

“I love you, Benny boy.” you hug him, and he gratefully hugs you back. 

“I love you, little bro.” Will says, and he hugs Benny too. 

After cutting the cake, and eating a fair amount, Will and you decided it’s time to leave. 

“We have a flight to catch tomorrow.” Will says as an excuse, but you know it’s not the truth, he’s just excited to go home and make love to you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ben says with a roll of his eyes, even he knows Will is lying. “You two have fun, and don’t do anything what I wouldn't do.” After saying your goodbyes, Will helps you into the car, and he sits next to you on the backseat. He gives the address to the driver, and you’re surprised that he’s not taking you home. 

“Where are we going?” you ask curiously. 

“To a 5 star hotel.” Will says sheepishly “This is Kate and Natalie’s gift for us. Apparently someone from Kate’s family owns this hotel, and she got us their best room for the night, and the day after, until we actually leave for our honeymoon.”

“Oh.” is all you can say suddenly “You still haven’t told me where we are going.”

“I’ll tell you once we are at the airport.” he says, and he wraps an arm around his shoulder and buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

* “i carry your heart with me” by E. E. Cummings

Tag list: @innerpaperexpertcloud @lady-evans @agirllovespasta @claudiahxrdy @oldstuffnewstuff @keithseabrook27 @alexa-rae-dreamz @minnicelli @woahitslucyylu @mad-hatters-teapot @justagirlwithhercat 

#charlie hunnam #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #William Miller #William Ironhead Miller #William Miller x reader #William Miller fanfiction

[madroxed]

“YOU KNOW THAT YOUR BOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN, RIGHT?” [fic meme. SIMON/RAPHAEL, COLLEGE AU, ENEMIES TO LOVERS. for @hoechlder​. @ao3.]

+

“Okay,” Raphael Santiago’s saying, leaning back smoothly in his chair in a way that would absolutely have Simon unbalancing onto the floor, and offering his trademark smug smile at the poor girl across the table, “but madness as a trope has been at the base of the ghost story at least since Shakespeare…”

Simon tunes him out. It’s probably a really good point and he should be making notes, but he just….can’t. Raphael starts talking and Simon automatically switches off; it’s been that way since approximately nought point two seconds into their freshman year when Raphael had eyed Simon’s ironic Care Bears t-shirt with disgust and asked him if he wasn’t confusing college with elementary school.

Simon hates him.

+

“You don’t hate him,” Jace says later, when Simon’s finishing up rant number 1458 on why Raphael Santiago has been put on this earth specifically to torture him. Clary shoots Jace a sceptical look so Simon doesn’t have to. “He’s part of your college experience. Everyone needs a good nemesis.”

“Um,” Clary says, “who’s yours?”

“Your father,” Jace says, like it’s obvious. “I didn’t say it had to be another student. Izzy’s is the conservative dress code, and Alec’s is every obnoxious heterosexual couple he knows.”

“That’s us,” Clary tells Simon with a smile.

Jace salutes. “It’s worse because he has to spend all his time with us, but better because he can tell us to our face how gross we are.” He wipes away a fake tear. “He’ll look back on those memories fondly.”

“Okay, I get it. You guys get off on tormenting Alec,” Simon says, “but just so we’re clear, Raphael Santiago really is the worst.”

“We know, honey,” Clary says, patting his leg.

Simon feels very patronized.

+

Magnus decides that a Wednesday night is a totally reasonable time to throw a party, which is patently untrue but they all go anyway.

They lose Alec almost immediately, taking up his place at Magnus’ side as his boyfriend holds court, and Izzy disappears shortly after, followed by the eyes of roughly a million admirers Simon can’t fault for a second.

“You good?” Clary asks, and Simon waves a hand.

“Go. Find a corner to make out in. I’ll be fine.”

“Great, thanks,” Jace says, tugging Clary away before she can change her mind.

“You’re blocking the door,” a horribly familiar voice says, and Simon squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment before stepping aside.

“What are you doing here?” Simon asks before he can stop himself. He doesn’t care, he really doesn’t, except that he absolutely does and it’s going to drive him crazy for the rest of the night.

Raphael shoots him a look that says he knows exactly how Simon feels. “Unfortunately, I live here.”

“Uh,” Simon says, and wonders if he knew that. He’s ninety-percent sure he didn’t, in which case he and Alec are going to have a serious chat. “Since when?”

“Since the start of the year.” Raphael rolls his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Magnus is technically my guardian. Was my guardian. Obviously that stopped being important when I turned eighteen, but the damage was done.”

“And by damage,” Simon says, “you mean emotions?”

He thinks Raphael may actually growl. It’s fascinating. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be studying? You looked a little lost in Monday’s seminar…”

“Wow,” Simon says, and wonders where the alcohol is, “A, not all of us feel the need to take over discussions. And B, fuck you.”

Raphael smirks, and Simon wants to scream. No one in the world is able to get under his skin this much, and that’s saying something considering he and Jace accidentally became friends in sophomore year.

“I’m walking away now,” Simon says, and ignores Raphael’s mocking laugh behind him.

+

Simon’s drunk. Very, very drunk. Possibly the most drunk he’s ever been.

“Nope,” Clary says, pointing her glass at him. Half of it sloshes over the rim. “Remember prom? We were wasted.”

“God,” Simon says, scrunching up his nose. “That was bad.”

“So bad,” Clary agrees. “Where’s the vodka?”

Simon passes her a bottle that, actually, may be tequila? Honestly at this point he’s not sure it matters.

“Did you know Raphael lives here?” he asks out of nowhere, and Clary gasps.

“No! Here here?”

“Yep!”

Clary blinks and drinks her tequila. “Wow. So weird. You should go say hi!”

Simon snorts. “I already did. Sort of.”

“Well go say it again,” Clary says, pushing ineffectively at his arm. “With sexy eyes or something.”

Simon’s brain shorts out. “…What? Why?”

Clary laughs. “Because you like him, doofus. You like like him. You want to kiss him and marry him and be shouty about…comic books and that show only you two watch forever.”

“You liar,” Simon says, because all of that is blatantly untrue. Clary has no idea what she’s talking about. Absolutely none. Simon hates Raphael. Hates his stupid smug smile and his expensive jackets and his perfect hair and the way he always makes Simon feel hot and awkward and like he’s the only person in the room.

“Oh shit,” he says, and Clary nods, patting him on the shoulder.

“S’ok,” she says.

“It really, really isn’t,” Simon says and snatches the bottle of tequila back.

+

It’s very possible he’s dying. Everything’s both very loud and very bright even though his eyes are definitely still closed, and it tastes like something’s died on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he croaks and rolls over only to crash promptly to the floor. “Fuck.”

When he finally manages to open his eyes, Raphael’s staring down at him, wearing a heavy brocade robe and holding a truly giant mug. “You okay down there?”

“Your couch sucks,” Simon says, and Raphael shrugs.

“Magnus chose it, blame him.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Simon asks, attempting to sit up and failing spectacularly.

“They, like normal house guests, went home when the party finished.”

“Ah,” Simon says. “And, uh, I…didn’t?”

Raphael frowns. “You don’t remember?”

“Nope,” Simon says with a wince. “Too much…I’m gonna guess tequila based on the throbbing behind my eyes.”

“…Right,” Raphael says, and if Simon didn’t know better he’d say he was upset. He’s probably just mad that Simon’s still there, taking up his couch on a Thursday morning and stopping him reading the entire works of Tolstoy or whatever it is Raphael does for fun.

“I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can, you know, stand up without breaking something.”

Raphael sighs. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

+

The kitchen’s a disaster zone, bottles and empty cups everywhere, and Simon doesn’t want to know what he just stepped in. Still, the smell of fresh coffee manages to take away some of the edge and Simon goes through cupboards until he finds a mug almost as large of Raphael’s.

“So,” he says, when Raphael follows him as far as the doorframe, “did you, uh, need help cleaning up, or…?”

“You really don’t remember anything about last night?” Raphael says, ignoring the question, and Simon frowns.

“I mean, I remember getting here and you telling me you live here, and I remember Jace starting up a game of beer pong, but after that…nope, not really.”

“Do you remember the party Magnus threw for Isabelle’s birthday our freshman year?” Raphael asks, which is completely out of left field, wow.

“Sure,” Simon says carefully. “Not the specifics, but I remember it was a fun night.”

“So,” Raphael says, and Simon’s not so hungover he doesn’t recognize the danger in his tone, “you don’t remember finding me on the balcony and telling me that you, and I quote, found me ‘super hot, especially when I do that smug asshole thing.’?”

Simon blinks.

“And,” Raphael continues, “you don’t remember the fourth of July when you brought me melted ice-cream and told me you liked my voice? Or the time you kissed me in the garden at one of Isabelle’s stupid sorority parties?” He takes a step forward and Simon swallows nervously. “Or last night when you found me in my room and told me you wanted to marry me and have shouty arguments forever?”

“Um,” Simon says.

“I see,” Raphael says. “It was just the tequila, then.”

He turns to leave and Simon finally remember to actually do something.

“Wait,” he says, and Raphael pauses. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Raphael looks at him like he’s an idiot. Which…fair. “Because you didn’t.”

Which—

Fuck.

The thing is, well, okay, yeah. Simon’s had a crush on Raphael since he insulted his Care Bears t-shirt and proceeded to start an argument over the benefits of new media in literary studies. He knows this. Sure, he tries to keep it buried as far down in his own denial as he can, but it doesn’t help when he spends most of every shared seminar they have staring at the sharp jut of Raphael’s collarbone beneath his stupidly expensive button-downs.

It’s a thing.

He just…hadn’t known that maybe it was a shared thing.

“I woke up on the couch,” he says, which isn’t at all what he’d meant to come out of his mouth but at least it’s a full sentence.

“Obviously,” Raphael says. “You were wasted.”

“So I didn’t kiss you?”

The corner of Raphael’s mouth tilts up, just a little. “Oh, you did.”

“So you didn’t kiss me back?” Simon says, piecing events together slowly but surely.

“I never do,” Raphael says, and Simon frowns, feeling confused and a little hurt. “I always tell you to kiss me when you’re sober. You never do.”

Simon, it turns out, is the biggest idiot on the planet. Clearly college is wasted on him.

“Right,” he says, digging the last remnants of his bravery out from his pounding skull. “Right.”

It’s probably not super romantic that he steps in the wet patch again, but as first kisses goes it’s…well. It’s pretty fucking excellent, actually.

Right up until Raphael pulls away.

“God, you really need to brush your teeth.”

“Yeah,” Simon says, backing up awkwardly. “Yeah, I’ll just—”

“There’s spare toothbrushes under the sink,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes, but the flush on his cheeks gives him away.

“Be right back,” Simon says, and tries to remember where the bathroom is.

+

Raphael’s doing the leaning thing again. Simon wants to try it but he’s not going to risk crashing to the floor whilst they’re still in the honeymoon phase. Besides, he doesn’t think he’d look anywhere near as cool.

Raphael’s embroidered jacket is draped over the back of his chair and his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, and Simon has no idea what conversation the professor’s just struck up.

Which isn’t too different from normal, really.

Raphael catches his eye and Simon’s heart does a truly embarrassing skippy thing in his chest.

“You know that your book is upside down, right?” Raphael says, smirk sliding into place, and Simon sighs.

He can always kiss it away later.

+

[for the au + trope + prompt game. send me one!]

#saphael #saphael fic #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #simon x raphael #my fic #hoechlder #TUMBLR KEEPS EATING MY ASKS WHEN I TRY AND REPLY AND PUTTING THE READ MORE IN THE ASK ITSELF??? #it's so annoying

[leoswritingcorner]

an oracle in olympus pt. 4

wow, this one didn’t take as long! nice.

lucky meets another olympian

part 4 of ?

A week goes by, and then another.

Lucky thinks it's safe to breathe again. No deities have appeared, or tried to spirit her away - save for Lucy and Jamie who occasionally stopped by. The day after they brought her home from Olympus, Jamie had gifted Lucky with a new phone.

“This is, like, one of my older Iris-Phones! It still, like, totally works great though!” Jamie explained, holding the cell out to Lucky. 

Lucky took the phone and looked over its sleek and advanced design. 

“So it’s an...iPhone?” she asked. It was dusty pink and had various heart stickers Jamie had stuck around it. Jamie blew a raspberry. 

“Apple, like, wishes it could be an Iris-Phone. But, like, mortal phones can’t, like, connect to our devices or get service from Olympus. I cleaned out, like, all the contacts, except for Lucy and me. So you can like, keep in touch with us!” She said, smiling brightly. “Also, we’ll keep you, like, posted with Cherry too.”

The phone buzzes and a text pops up on the group chat. Two ½ Immortals. Lucy thought it was a hilarious group name. 

good morning, charmz! xoxo

Jamie’s message pops up right after. 

Happy Fri-YAY!!!! You made it through your second week of work!!! (ten heart emojis followed).

Lucky leans against the wall of the breakroom and types a quick reply. Thanks, y’all! I’m about to start so I’ll text ya both after. Still nothing from Cherry? She taps send and Jamie responds promptly.

Nothing yet, dear :( :’( 

Of course. Nothing. Lucky tilts her head back and sighs. She’s relieved. She thinks for a moment, she might be okay with Cherry never finding out anything concerning Tyche and herself. She could go on being normal Lucky Siddalee Day, twenty-four year old from Savannah, Georgia. Someone who didn’t have anything fantastical happen to her. 

The sight of the ceiling darkens as she closes her eyes, and lets herself a moment of peace before the likely hustle of today’s work. Completely normal. 

It begins slowly, a gentle tingling in her chest. At first, she passes it off as remaining nerves. But this felt different. Her skin prickles as if pins were being poked against her, only then to feel a brush of something light as feathers. It makes her breath hitch in her throat. Lucky’s hand presses to the spot on her chest that kept Hades in question. It felt warm, and only grew warmer as the sensations she felt intensified more and more.

Wake up. Remember. Wake up! Remember!

The words flash through her mind like lightning. They repeated over and over frantically, as if a voice begging from somewhere hidden.

“Lucky! Hey, are you here?”  Rebecca’s voice calls. Lucky’s body jolts and her eyes fly open to see her friend’s head poking through the doorway. “C’mon!” Her coworker urges. “You got three field trips today. Two elementary classes, and one middle.”

Lucky can barely remember the sensations she had felt and her thoughts are her own again. She nods to Rebecca. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.” She answers shakily, slipping the phone into her vest pocket. Taking one last glance into the mirror, she adjusts her work clothes. Blouse and vest, neatly pressed, pencil skirt and short heeled shoes - professional, but comfy for long tours. Especially leading groups of hyper primary students. 

“Welcome to Jurassic World.” Lucky sighs at her reflection.

*

4:30 PM comes around and only thirty more minutes stood between Lucky and the freedom to enjoy her weekend. The museum is mostly empty. A few people here and there, but mainly all moving towards the exit doors. She spies around the Grecian Mythos and Art exhibit, feeling a swell of pride flow through her. Each piece here carried a piece of history on it. Sculptures and painters from centuries ago, able to live on in the artwork they created. She was able to be part of it all. Lucky smiles proudly to herself and sits down on the bench, across from Apollo Sauroktonos and lets feeling come back to her feet and legs with a relieved breath. 

The peace only lasts a moment when she feels someone’s presence by her. They take a seat next to her and huff. “I never liked that.” They mutter.

“Hm?” Lucky blinks, glancing at them. It was a young man, likely around her age. Even from just his profile, she can tell how striking his looks were. Almost just like a well carved statue that stood the exhibit. He turns his head to her and grins.

Lucky stares at him. His eyes practically shine and glimmer in the setting sun from the window. “That statue,” he says motioning his head towards Apollo Sauroktonos. Lucky blinks and takes a quick glance at it. “It...I dunno, it just didn’t capture something,” he continues, leaning back. “Or...too much of something.” 

At that, Lucky laughs lightly. “Well, funnily enough it’s still debated if it’s of Greek or Roman origin,” she begins. “I mean, it is a copy of an original work of Praxiteles,” she explains. Now he’s the one laughing.

“You were a nerd then, T,” he says, “And you’re a nerd now.”

At that, Lucky freezes. Any relaxation that came to her body left, and each muscle within her tensed in alert. He just called her ‘T’. She turns her head back to him and he’s watching her. His eyes really were shimmering gold, as if they held the sunlight within them, practically dancing. That’s when she notices the soft golden hue against his skin. Another Olympian was making an appearance to her.

“I heard you were back, Tyche,” he says with a smile. “Why didn’t you tell me? Hell, I thought I’d be the first one you’d get a hold of.”

Lucky opens and closes her mouth, and shakes her head. “I don’t...um.” 

All words of the English vocabulary have suddenly left her, except for  ‘uh’, ‘um’, and ‘er’ all coming together in a mash of indistinct muttering.

He pauses, looking over her and realization begins to come over. “Shit, you don’t remember, do you?” He questions. Lucky shrugs helplessly. 

“But you gotta remember!” He insists. “I mean, like, we totally love each other!”

Lucky feels her breath catch tightly in her throat. “Y-You’re Clyde?” She asks in a small voice. 

At that he pauses and lifts a brow.

“Clyde?” He repeats, nearly offended. “No! T, it’s me. Lucas.” He says, pointing to the statue, then to himself. “Y’know, Apollo.” 

Apollo, god of the sun, music, light, and oracles…

If anything, something should have stirred within her if she was really Tyche. Lucky stares at him, and tries to imagine, to remember. She takes a breath and he looks at her hopefully.

“I’m so sorry, dude.” Lucky breathes out. “Nothin’ is clickin’. There’s a chance I ain’t even Tyche. My name is Lucky.” 

Lucas frowns, and the light that seemed to shine from him slowly began to dim. The glow of his skin fades slightly. He sits back, looking forward. 

“This can’t be. The best oracle…,” he says quietly to himself.

“Um.” Lucky starts awkwardly, standing up. “I’m really sorry. L-Listen, it’s sunset and it’s close to closin’-”

“That’s it!” Lucas snaps his fingers. Suddenly, there’s a brightness to him again. “I have an idea. We- uh, Tyche and I used to love to do this when we could. It’d piss off Zeus.” 

Lucky looks at him puzzled. “Anythin’ pisses off Zeus.”

Lucas chuckles, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a pair of keys, flipping them around his finger. “Not as much as taking a mortal for a ride across the sunline.”

Lucky feels her mouth drop open slightly. Lucas jingles the keys. “C’mon, one time across the horizon. If anything, that’ll jog your memory for sure.”

*

Oh what in the blazes was she doing? Was she really about to get into some strange yellow Camaro that was actually Apollo’s chariot? With updates? Lucas opens the door for her and with a resigned sigh she carefully slips into the car and buckles up. 

Guess she really was doing this.

Lucas gets into the driver’s seat and looks to her. “This was one of our favorite things to do. If you don’t remember this, I don’t know what the hell you will remember. Ready?” He asks, starting the engine.

“Ready,” Lucky nods, strapping the seatbelt a bit tighter. 

Lucas revs the car a few times before peeling out. Lucky gasps, her body sinking against the seat. His hands move the steering wheel with grace and ease. Lucky dares a glance out the window. No one seemed to notice the car speeding by. A song pulses through, with Lucas tapping a hand along to the beat. “Lost in Yesterday by Tame Impala.” He calls over the music. “One of my favorites to work to.” Lucky’s eyes dart back and forth between him and the road ahead. Still, they manage to avoid cars, people, traffic of all sorts until it all becomes a blur. The sun seemed to come closer to greet them. Lucky cringes, holding her hands up, hoping to block away the brightness.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Lucas says, fishing around the middle console. “Here, Izzy helped me make these. Totally able to block out the sun rays and all that harmful shit,” he says, holding a pair of sunglasses to her. Lucky puts them on. They were tinted a brownish color but she could see everything before them now, sun included.

“We should be over the Pacific now,” Lucas informs her.

“What?” Lucky questions. Sure enough, the road was gone and the car moved over the waving waters of the ocean. Lucky covers her mouth, and looks to Lucas. He grins, turning the car just when it seemed to come to the curve of the horizon. 

“Now for the fun part,” Lucas says, as he changes gears with a loud noise. “Sun’s locked.” He nods, revs the engine, and they take off again.

They drive across the ocean, complete darkness before them, and Lucky watches in awe as night gives way to dawn. Beams of light breaking through clouds that rolled and swirled before vanishing. Hazes of orange and yellow flew along beside them and over the car. Her eyes go wide with wonder as she laughs. “Oh my stars.” 

Lucas chuckles. “Open the window.” He encourages her. Lucky shoots him an unsure look, but he lowers the windows of both sides. He reaches out an arm, keeping one hand steady on the wheel. Lucky watches with wide eyes as the mixing colors of dawn fly around his hand. “It’s safe.” Lucas assures her.

 The wind whips into the car and sends her curls flying back as Lucky leans closer to the window. Hesitantly she reaches out, and feels the cool of the air and spray of the ocean below. Colors seem to dance around her hand and fingers. A stunned and excited look comes over her face. She was practically touching the sunrise. Growing up she had always watched the sunrise back in Savannah, and even a few times on Tybee Island over the beach, but all of those sights now fell short to being the one who lead the dawn across the skies. 

Lucas stops the car, and shifts the gears again. There’s another loud noise and he settles back. “And done. A new day here on the other side of earth,” he says proudly. He gives her a grin and presses his fingers to his lips, making a chef’s kiss. “one of my best.”

“Wow.” Lucky breathes. She tips the sunglasses down, and looks at the forming colors of pink and purple of morning. “That was...i-incredible.” 

Lucas laughs. “I guess. Tyche freaking got a kick out of it, just like you are.”

“Well who wouldn’t?” Lucky laughs. “Thank you for that experience.”

Lucas shrugs. “Thought it would help,” he says, glancing at her. “So...did it?” Lucky looks away from the scene outside and to him. She doesn’t know what to say. Her heart sinks and her stomach feels heavy with a sort of combination between sadness and guilt. She honestly wished that she could say yes. Lucky shakes her head.

He sighs and leans his head back. Lucky isn’t sure if it’s the sunglasses and the light of dawn messing with her, but she thinks she sees growing tears in his eyes. “Well,” he finally says after a moment. “guess I’ll just have to bug you till something clicks.” 

“Ah, join the club,” Lucky huffs. But she flashes him a good natured smile. “Why don’t ya tell me, a bit more about you and Tyche?” She asks. “It might help. Was she a good oracle?”

Lucas turns to her. “A good oracle?” He repeats. “She was the best, and I worked with the girls at Delphi. But Tyche,” He sighs “Tyche was meant for something great. She was favored by most of the gods in Olympus. But mainly me.” Lucas adds. 

Lucky snorts, rolling her eyes. “Course.”

“You got her attitude I see.” Lucas chimes. “So we’re on the right path.” 

Lucky giggles, resting back. “Guess so. Any stories with y’all?”

Lucas thinks for a moment before laughing. “Oh yeah, there was this time when we went cow tipping in Hermes’ herd and one of them turned out to be a minotaur…” He tells her between laughter as he starts up the car, driving off again. 

The sun lingers behind them as they drive back into the night. The reflection of the rising moon catches Lucky’s eyes. A thought like a whisper comes through her mind before it leaves just as softly.

Where are you Tyche?

*

Saturday morning arrived and Lucky missed it. Lucas had brought her home around 10 pm, and who knew traveling through bended time and space would tire her out? At least they stopped for burgers. Lucas had told her some more stories about Tyche, and some of their misadventures; including accidentally setting off a fire at the Theophania festival. He added his information to her phone.

Now Lucky has three gods on speed dial.

A consistent knocking from the door echoes in the small apartment. Lucky snorts awake. She was on the pullout couch, lost under a swarm of quilts and blankets. The Forrest Gump DVD menu played on loop. “Ugh.” She groans, pushing herself up. 

She doesn’t see the half drunk bottle of Rosé at the side of the couch, and she barely pays mind to the scribbles written in a notebook that she kicks under the couch as she stumbles to the door. “Who is it?” She calls out.

The knocking continues. Getting louder and harder.  

“I said ‘who is it’ for, Pete's sake!” Lucky snaps, flinging the door open. 

Eric stares her down and Lucky stares back up at him.

“Mortal.” He greets sharply.

“Trophy husband.” Lucky retorts.

Eric sneers. He’s not dressed as primly as he was in the underworld. This time he wore a dark peacoat and casual clothes underneath. On the lapel of his coat, however, was a silver pin of a skull covered with rose vines.

“What do ya want?” Lucky asks, keeping the door half shut. “Did Cherry find somethin’?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

Lucky scoffs. “Then why are ya here?” She asks, shutting the door. His hand flies out, blocking it from shutting completely. With a surprising strength he opens the door. Lucky stumbles and glares at him. “What is your damage, flower-child?”

“I’m here to get answers for myself. Are yah really Tyche, or not.” He says, stepping inside. “This is a shit hole.” He states, looking around the studio apartment. 

Lucky glares at him. “Ya didn’t have to come in, ya know.” She crosses her arms. “What do ya mean you’re here to get answers?” She demands. Her eyes follow him as he takes a step further into the apartment. 

Eric doesn’t answer her right away, he instead surveys the room, as if trying to find something, a clue of some sort. Finally he turns to her, “I want to see if you’re really Tyche or not. Not just some hack mortal.”

“How will ya do that?” Lucky asks, hoping he didn’t catch the slight waver in her voice. She crosses her arms tightly and tries to muster up a glare. 

Eric grins, answering her lowly. “I have my ways.” 

#an oracle in olympus #lucky day #lucas shaw #again shout out to erica for being the best beta ever!!! #apollo!lucas stole my heart as i wrote this

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 23

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 5,755

Warnings: swearing

Serendipity Masterlist

I sit on a chair on the balcony drinking my coffee waiting for Colby to get out of the shower. It's early. Early enough for me to wear a hoodie out. I watch as people go on about their lives down below. People going to work, school, or just being pass by the complex. It's a Thursday so people are getting for the weekend. And this weekend is the first weekend of Coachella so nearly everyone in LA is preparing for that. Our friend group included.

Well, not everyone in our friend group. Its's literally just Sam, Colby, Jake, Kat, Tara, Griffin, and me. Tara is the newest addition to our group. She's not apart of the girlfriend club yet but I'm sure Jake will take care of that soon. Sam, Colby, and I are going because we have to work. Which kind of messes with their break. But they have to make money somehow.

We're not going until weekend two but Colby and I have no idea what we're wearing. Sam and Kat have been ready for at least a week. Jake is going to just wear normal Jake clothes. Tara has been planning and I'm sure she sent Jake a color scheme so something could match. And even though Colby has some sense of style, he claims that he has no idea how to dress. So I promised him that when I had a free day. I would put together both of our outfits. With the album release party and the actual release of the album, I've been busy until today. Which leads us to right now.

Sitting on the balcony drinking coffee and waiting for Colby to get out if the shower. My phone rings. I take a large sip before answering.

"Hello?"

"Happy birthday!" Yells the person the other end. I pull the phone away from my ear for a second and blink. I look at the caller id.

"Benji, it's way too fucking early for this. The caffeine hasn't even kicked in. But thank you." I finish my coffee and head back inside. I peek in the hallway on my way to the kitchen and see that Colby has finally gotten out of the shower.

"Wow, the birthday girl woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Sorry, just not in the mood... to celebrate." I begin washing the cup and keeping my eyes on the bathroom door.

"What the fuck do you mean? It's your 20th birthday! You're celebrating."

"Not this year, okay? Don't you have a class or a shift at the hospital or something?"

"I get it! I'll see you later. I have to drop off your gift."

"Wait! Benji do—" Benji hangs up on the other before I can tell him to not come over. I roll my eyes and text him quickly before sitting on the couch.

It's not that I don't want to celebrate my birthday. I always do. Even when my family ignored me, I always planned something for me to do and spent time with Benji. Hell, last year was the first year I did something other than for and spend time with Benji for my birthday. But this year is different. Everything happened close to my birthday. Colby isn't back to normal. I know he isn't happy. If I hadn't already planned my album release party a few weeks ago, I would have kept my mouth shut about it. I don't want to put Colby into situations where he has to force himself to seem happy. I couldn't do anything about the album release party. I kept telling him he didn't have to do, but he insisted. I don't want my birthday to be another boyfriend obligation. So I kept quiet about my birthday around everyone, hoping that maybe everyone will forget. I'm assuming the did because there have been no texts or social media post from my friends. Colby didn't say anything this morning.

Colby finally walks out of the bathroom. He disappears into the bedroom.

"You ready to go?" Colby asks after grabbing a pair of shoes from the bedroom.

"I've been ready. I aged five years waiting for you." I joke.

"Hey, you don't understand this, but beauty takes time."

"Okay, beast. Let's go before all the last minute weekend one people get the last of the good stuff." Colby helps me up and we head to the mall.

In the car I ordered custom shirts for Colby and I. They're redesigned fashion logos. Calvin Klein for Colby and Gucci for me. Right now we're inside Forever 21 browsing. We've already been to a few stores and found some things to wear. We decided to wear similar "matching" outfits. Mainly, we're going to stick to similar color schemes.

I'm looking through a rack of neon shorts to go with the neon yellow pants we found for Colby. As I finally find a pair in my size, Colby's phone rings. I can already tell it's Sam based on the ring tone. He has special ring tones for Sam, his parents, and me.

"Hello? Sam?" Colby looks at me confused before handing me the clothes in his hands and walking out of the store. Lucky for me, he's holding the shopping bags.

I watch him as he talks to Sam. He pulls the phone away from his ear for a second, looks at something, and then goes back to talking to Sam. I figure whatever is going on with Sam is going to take a while and go deeper into the store. I find a few more things that I like and just look through them. I go through a few more racks like that before Colby finally gets back.

"What was that about?" I ask while handing Colby back his clothes.

"Oh, it was nothing. He had gotten some emails about the Sam and Colby channel. He needed my opinion on somethings. Anyway, since we're on the last outfit, why don't we head to lunch soon. Then we can walk around the mall some more or walk around the beach."

"Yeah, okay. Let's try these on first and then we can head out. Oh, here, we're not going to buy these shirts but try it with this so I can see if it works." I hand Colby a white shirt as we walk to the dressing rooms.

We ended up getting Chick-Fil-A and walked around the beach. We spent the whole day out and even did a bit more shopping. When we got home, Colby managed to convince me to go out again. We haven't really had a date night in a while, so he said that we should go to dinner. Which is where we are now, sitting outside of Tao's in the car about to go in for dinner. The idea of us just spending the day together is nice. However, Colby spent more time on his phone all day than talking to me. Which is a bit annoying, but hopefully, he'll pry himself away from his phone for dinner.

Colby helps me out of the car and we walk into the restaurant. We get to the front counter and the waitress leads us to a party room full of our friends and Benji.

"Surprise!" Everyone screams in unison.

"Oh shit... Thank you! I really am surprised. Colbs did you...?" I turn to Colby and see that he's smiling.

"Happy birthday, baby." He kisses me before leading us to our seats. I'm sitting at the head of the table with Colby on one side of me and Benji on the other.

"I honestly, don't know what to say. This is really a surprise. I had no idea you guys had this planned." I say after taking a sip of water.

"What? Did you think we forgot or something?" Sam jokes. I see a look of panic flash across Colby's face.

"No, it's just, I wasn't really planning on celebrating this year. But this is great. I've never had a surprise party before."

"Let's look at the menu. Izzy, we can go half and half on something if you want." Colby says quickly handing me a menu.

That's when I knew that they did forget. The Colby forgot and right now he's forcing himself to be a perfect boyfriend and he's beating himself up over it.

****

Sam and I pose for pictures with the fans who happened to find out at the mall. Once we finish I wipe off the fake smile and continue walking with Sam. The only reason why we're at the mall is because Sam wanted to get a surprise for Kat and he needed a girl's opinion. I was hoping that we wouldn't run into fans today but it's only a matter of time before rumors start spreading around the two of us. Which is fine. Colby knows that I'm hanging out with Sam today and why. The only person who doesn't know is Kat, and that's the point. But I also have another reason to hang out with Sam.

We sit down at the food court and start eating the food we bought right before we got interrupted. Sam set's Kat's gift on the floor and starts setting out all the food.

"Can't wait for that to blowback on us later," Sam says as he passes me my food.

"Well, we couldn't have said no or asked them to not post the pictures. It would make the situation worse. Anyways, they're harmless selfies with fans. If they speculate, we can't stop them. We know the truth." I take a picture of our food and caption it for my story.

"Very true. Hey, thanks for helping me today. I wanted to make sure that Kat likes her gift. And since you two hang out all the time, I thought you would be the best person to help." Sam pops a fry into his mouth.

"No problem. Since I helped you out, can you give me advice on something?"

"Shoot."

"You talked to Kat about everything that happened, right?" I sip my soda and avoid eye contact with him.

"Yeah, pretty much right after everything happened. As soon as I saw her. Why?"

"Well, you know Colby. Hell, I know Colby. He doesn't talk about anything when the subject is him. Which is fine, everyone is entitled to their secrets. But— Have you noticed anything different about him?"

"You mean the drinking?" He says casually.

"It's gotten out of control, Sam. I'm scared for him. I guess what I'm asking is, should I talk to him about everything?"

"Look, I know from experience that if you try to force Colby to talk, he's going to push you away."

"But, Sam—"

"Trust me, Isabella. Colby will talk about it when he's ready. You wanted my advice. My advice is to let him be for now."

"You're right. Just forget I said anything. Let's change the subject."

"Okay, so for pizza night tomorrow..."

I get home from hanging out with Sam about an hour later. When I get home, Colby is up in the balcony doing something on his computer. He's most likely working. I know that he's going to have a guys night with Mike, Aryia, and Kevin. So it would make sense that he would be working on something.

"I'm home and I brought you food!" I shout as I put the things I just bought in our room. I walk back to the kitchen and arrange Colby's food on a plate. I bring everything up to him and set it on the table.

"Thank you. How was your little shopping spree with Sam?" Colby saves his work and turns to me.

"It was fun. I haven't hung out with Sam or anyone else really since before the album release party. In fact, my manager called me while I was out. Turns out that a producer or something called him and wants to meet with Mike, Aryia, Kat, and I tomorrow morning. Anyway, how was your day?"

"That's amazing! Yeah! I've been sitting here working all day. Honestly, at this point, I'm thinking about hiring Reggie to edit my videos. That would give me more time plan and film. I really need this guys night tonight." He starts looking

"Want me to edit for you?" I say peeking at his screen.

"No, it's fine. I know you have your own stuff to work on. I know you've been working on your second album.

"Okay. Just call me if you want to take up my offer. Enjoy your lunch." I kiss Colby on the cheek before walking back into my studio.

I sit in the living room watching tv. Well, I'm not really watching it. It's on, but my mind is elsewhere. It's nearly midnight and I should be in bed because I have to be up early for my meeting. Colby is still out, which is fine. Except, Colby left at six and he said he would be back, at the latest, at eleven. It's eleven fifty and I haven't even heard from him. I know he's out with Mike, Aryia, and Kevin. The four of them together is asking for trouble when it comes to partying. The thing is, Mike and Aryia are also going to the meeting so they should be home too. I called all four of them and got nothing. I even texted Sam, who stayed home because he's working on the new series for the duo channel all night. He hasn't heard anything either and he said he'd let me know if he found anything out.

So now I'm sitting up freaking the hell out. I cleaned the apartment three times today. The first time was general house cleaning after Colby left. The second time was at ten because I was nervous about the meeting. The third time was at eleven when I saw that Colby was late and he didn't even text me. To make matters worse, his location is either broken or he turned it off because I can't check.

As I check my phone again, Sam starts to call me. I quickly answer and turn off the tv.

"Hey, have you heard from them?" I ask calmly.

"He's at my place. He's fine... just drunk." Sam says quietly. I hear a noise in the background. It sounds like Colby.

"Why's he over there? We literally live next door."

"I know. He's a mess and didn't want to go home. I think he should crash over here tonight. Listen, Iz, I was wrong."

"What are you talking about? Wrong about what and why doesn't he want to come home?" I stand up and start slowly putting the remote back in its place.

"This morning I said to leave Colby alone. I think you should talk to him."

"Why? What's happening? Sam, you're scaring me."

"Look, I have to go. Don't worry too much. I can take care of him. Just go to bed. I'll talk to you at tomorrow." Sam hangs up before I can say anything else.

It takes every fiber in my body to stop myself from going to Sam's apartment to see what's going on. Instead, I grab my phone and drag myself to bed. I plug my phone in and turn off the lights before crawling into bed. I take Colby's pillows and force them into a position to make me feel like I'm not sleeping alone. I try to fall asleep, but instead, I map out what I'm going to say to Colby. I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. I have to, for his sake.

****

"Oh! Colby, I was going to stop by Sam's to say bye to you. I have that meeting. My ride isn't here yet, do you want me to make you a hangover smoothie?" I ask as I see Colby laying on our couch. I honestly don't know when he came in. He's still wearing his clothes from yesterday. His hair looks like a tangled mess and under his eyes are so dark that he looks sick.

"No, I'm good. The sound from the blender will make it worse. Thanks though." I stand there for a second, thinking if I should bring it up right now. I go into the bathroom and take the Advil bottle and grab a cup of water from the kitchen.

"Here," I hand Colby two pills and the glass.

"Thank you. You're an angel." Colby sits up and takes the pills.

"I know that I'm leaving any minute, but can we talk?" I sit down next to Colby.

"Of course." He sets the glass on the floor and turns to me. The bags under his eyes are prominent.

"Look, I know that things have been off since you got arrested and the tunnel incident. And I haven't been pushing you to talk because I wanted to give you space. And I've noticed that you haven't been the best lately and I really want to help you."

"What do you mean by I'm not the best lately? Like I've been a shitty boyfriend?"

"What? No! That's not what I mean at all. I just meant that lately, you've been less like yourself. You go to bed later than normal. I don't even think you sleep some nights. And when you do sleep, you're having nightmares. I know you're on the balcony drinking and listening to music. Hell, you've been drinking a lot more recently. Don't think I haven't noticed the vodka supply going down. Which is what I drink when shit's hit the fan and I want to feel good. And that's how you use vodka too. I know whiskey is your poison so don't start there. And you got so drunk yesterday that you didn't want to come home. Sam told me. But don't get mad at him because he's just worried about you too. We all are."

"Do you guys have a group chat or something where you talk about me?"

"You're trying to change the subject. I get that this might be uncomfortable for you but I'm trying to help you. Like how you helped me. But I don't know how to help you. Do you want to talk about it? Do you want for us to put a pause on our relationship so that you can focus on your mental health? Whatever you need, I'll help you do it. I just want you to be happy, Colby."

"Oh, I get it." Colby laughs to himself a little.

"What are you talking about?"

"I totally get it. Why do you always suggest breaking up or taking a break when things go bad? It's because you're looking for a way out. For years you were this party girl that didn't settle down. You literally had a different dick, every night and now you're stuck with me. You tested the whole relationship thing out with me and decided that it's not for you but you don't want to hurt me. You probably want to go back to how things were before."

"Why are you being an asshole right now? I'm just trying to help you." My phone starts to ring. I search for it in my bag and mute it.

"Help me? Really? Are you sure you're not trying to help yourself? You're making something out of nothing and saying that we should take a break. I'm starting to think that you don't actually love me. You pretended to be asleep when I first said it and waited a week before saying anything about it."

"Are you kidding me right now? I don't love you? Are you serious? If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have said it at all. I wouldn't have written a whole ass song saying how much I love you. I would 't have given up my apartment to move in with you. For fuck's sakes, I would be wearing the promise ring that you gave me if I didn't love you! I'm not the one making something out of nothing. What is wrong with you?" My phone starts ringing again and I quickly press mute. I need to hear this.

Colby sits silently for a few seconds. Thinking. I can almost see the gears turning in his brain.

"I cheated on you."

"Excuse me?" I stood up quickly. I suddenly don't want to be sitting next to Colby anymore.

"Last night. When I was at the club I cheated on you with some random chick. That's why I didn't want to come home. Not because I was drunk off my ass. I mean, I was really drunk but that was after."

"I-I don't believe you. You're lying. You're trying to hurt me or push me away instead of dealing with your problems. I do not believe that you cheated on me."

"Isabella, listen to me—" My phone rings for the third time and I finally answer it.

"Hello?" I stare at Colby in disbelief.

"Izzy, we're here. Get your ass downstairs or we're going to be late for the meeting." Mike says on the other end.

"Sorry, I'll be down in a minute." I hang up the phone and shove it in my pocket.

"Isabella, I'm telling the truth." Colby tries to touch my hand but I pull it back.

"I refuse to believe that you cheated on me. You can't just accuse me of not loving you and then blurt out that you fucking cheated. Whatever is wrong with you, better be worth hurting me and hurting me, you asshole. Mike, Aryia, and Kat are waiting for me downstairs so I'm going to go to my meeting. While I'm going, you better think about what you need in order for me to help you and we'll deal with it when I get home." I hesitate before kissing Colby on the cheek and leaving the apartment.

****

A tour. That's what the meeting was about. At my album release party a couple of weeks ago, people from the music industry were there. They liked how Mike, Aryia, Kat, and I put the show together. They like it so much they told their bosses about us. They want to put on a smallish tour with the four of us around the country so we can get exposure and build up our momentum. Not a record deal, but a tour that can lead to being signed with a label. An actual dream come true.

Except, I couldn't be as excited at I would normally be for something like this. I had to fake it during the meeting. I had to fake my enthusiasm for something that I feel genuinely excited about. All because I couldn't stop thinking about this morning.

Colby said he cheated on me. Part of me doesn't believe him. Part of me believes that he only said that so I would only hate him for being a cheater instead of an asshole for what he said just before that. Another part of me thinks he might be telling the truth. That last night, when he went out with Mike, Aryia, and Kevin, Colby met some random girl and made the decision to sleep with her. Drunk or not, Colby made that decision knowing that one day I would find out and it would devastate me.

I came home to the apartment empty. Meaning, that somewhere in Los Angles, Colby is avoiding the next conversation we need to have. Which prompts me with two things to do. I walk into the kitchen and go straight for the alcohol stash. We keep the bottles in the bottom cupboard near the sink. I pull all of them out and open a bottle of vodka and hold it over the sink. I hesitate to pour it out. Getting rid of the alcohol won't do anything. He can just go out and buy more or just spend more time at clubs. If anything, it would just make him hate me. Instead, I pour myself a glass and put all the bottles back.

I take my cup and walk into our bedroom. I grab my suitcases from the closet and start shoving all my clothes and shoes in them. After filling both I drag them to my studio room. I'm not going to leave Colby. I wouldn't just pack up my things and leave without at least talking to him. But, based on his lack of being home when we need to talk, our relationship might be on the line. Regardless of what gets decided, I'm going to be sleeping in my studio for a while. I grab my pillows from my side of the bed and one of our extra blankets. I set them on my couch and just sit down with my vodka and phone.

I just drink and stare at my phone. I could check his location. We always have each other's location turned on. But I don't want to see that he's somewhere he shouldn't be or that he turned his location off. Instead, I send Colby a text asking where he is and then put my phone away. I finish my drink and lay down. I stare at the ceiling.

It's the only place in the entire room that has nothing on it. The wall where my couch is has posters and fan art, the backdrop for most of my sit down videos. Directly across from that are my instruments. All my string instrument neatly displayed and easily accessible with my piano under them. The wall where my computer and desks are is completely made from windows. I turned the closet into a makeshift recording studio. The room Colby I could have to work. The room that Colby and I could have easily shared but he insisted on giving it to me. The ceiling is bare. Not that I couldn't put anything up there. Colby and I were going to make it into a project. A mural or something that's dangling down. But for now, it stares back at me as white and bare as the rest of the walls in the apartment. If it wasn't for the XPLR tapestry and the row of Colby cutouts, the entire apartment would be bare. Just like my ceiling.

The living room was Colby's space. That's where he films so he could decorate it how he chooses. But he didn't and that suits him. Our bedroom is a mixture of both of us. Colby even has some posts it's up because he liked the prank Sam did to him at the trap house. I have some of my art pieces up. I didn't like how we had the apartment set up. It felt too much like we had our two separate spaces.

But the more time I spent here with Colby, the more the apartment started to feel like home. Colby feels like home, but right now, the home's been broken into and I don't even know where to start to get everything back in order.

"Izzy? Are you okay?" I feel a hand on my shoulder. I slowly open my eyes to see Kat standing over me.

"What are you doing here? What time is it?" I sit up and start stretching.

"It's six-thirty. Everyone's at Sam's for pizza night. You didn't show up so I asked Colby for your apartment key. Are you okay? You look like you've been crying?" Kat sits down next to me. I touch my face. It's dry but I can feel dried tears.

"Colby is over there? Right now?" I get up and walk into the bathroom to wash my face.

"Yeah, he came a little bit ago. When he came without you, it seemed a bit sus so I asked for his key to see if you were still here. Are you okay, Iz?" Kat leans across the door frame for the bathroom?

"Is he fine? How did he seem?" I grab my toothbrush out of the cup and quickly start brushing.

"Isabella, forget about Colby for a second. Are you okay?"

"Katrina, I'm fine. If you keep asking I'm not going to be fine anymore. I'm just worried about Colby because he flaked on me earlier and I haven't seen him since this morning."

"Is something wrong with you two?"

"Everything is not fine between us. And no, I don't want to talk about it right now because I don't want to go to pizza night with even puffier eyes. I promise, when this situation is figured out, I'll tell you first. Can you help me look decent? My clothes are in the suitcases in my studio."

"Yeah, I can do that." While Kat disappears I finish brushing my teeth and dry my face. I dig through my make up and grab a few things out. I don't have time to do a full face so I just put on lipstick, my eyelids, and try to take care of under my eyes. Kat comes back with fishnets, shorts, and an oversized band tee shirt and gives them to me.

After I finish getting dressed Kat and I make our way over to Sam's where everyone is just mingling and having a good time. Colby is in the corner talking to Reggie about something. We make eye contact for a brief moment before he quickly looks away. I plaster on a fake smile before going to greet everyone.

"Okay, they're back! We can talk about it now!" Mike yells to get everyone's attention.

"Tell them what?" I ask as I grab two slices of pizza and a can of mountain dew.

"They were asking about the meeting. Mike was going to tell them earlier when they asked but I went to get you so you could be here." Kat explains to me.

"Okay, one of you spill it then," Kevin speaks up.

"We met with some people in the industry who wants to... put the four of us on tour, together!" Aryia exclaims from the couch.

"Yeah, they were at Izzy's album release party and like how we put the show together," Kat said now standing next to Sam.

"It's not like a full-blown tour like Ariana Grande. It's more like what they did with Viners. Kind of like MagCon and that other one, digital something. Except, instead of one or two actual talent acts and a bunch of shirtless teenage boys flipping around on stage, they get four real performers. No offense to Sam and Colby." I joke as I sit on the couch. Colby comes over and joins me. He puts his arm around me and I stiffen. Everyone else continues talking about the tour and asking questions. The whole time I just count the minutes until pizza night is over

Colby and I are one of the first people to leave Sam's apartment. I didn't want to leave early. Normally we're one of the last to leave. But Colby said he was tired so I followed.

"Colby, we need to talk," I say after locking the front door.

"Can't we just save it for tomorrow? I'm exhausted." Colby is near the bedroom.

"No, because if we do, you'll just disappear in the morning before I wake up. And then I probably won't see you until bedtime. And I can't do that again." I slowly walk to the couch and sit down. Colby hesitates before finally joining me. This time he keeps his distance.

"For the record, I wouldn't have skipped out on you like that." He runs his hands through his hair. His partly blue hair that he dyed before we went to Coachella.

"Frankly, after today, I don't think I believe you. Look, Colby, I know that I shouldn't have bombarded you this morning and pressured you into making a decision. But given the circumstances, you're going to have to make a decision."

"Why are you talking like that? You're stressing me out more. And yeah, I was a bit overwhelmed this morning, but I can't make that decision. Not right now." I watch as he fidgets with his rings.

"You have to. I can't just sit here and watch you suffer. You're going down the same path that I was going to and that can only lead to— I don't know how you did it but I can't lose you. Not like that. I'm willing to help you, but you have to allow me. So, there are two questions that need to be answered. First, how can I help you get better?" I watch as Colby thinks. We stay silent for a seconds before Colby runs his hand through his hair again.

"I don't want to break up. But I don't need any special help. I'll talk to you about everything. Maybe that'll help. Just you being there, that'll help."

"Okay, then I'll be here. You can talk to me whenever about whatever. I'll be here to listen. And anything else you need to get you better."

"Well, that's settled. What about the second question?" Colby is even more nervous than he was earlier. Because he knows what the next question is going to be.

"Did you really cheat on me?"

"No," he answers quickly, "but I thought about it. I was close to doing it, but I didn't."

"What do you mean by close? Did you choose a girl? Were you about to go to her place?"

"We were in the bathroom and at the literal last second before I could do any real damage, I backed out."

"You— I can't believe this. And you dared to accuse me of not loving you anymore when you went and did that. You know what? I may be stupid for doing this but, I'll stay to help you. I'll stay with you but you're on thin fucking ice. For now, I'm staying in my office."

"That's ridiculous, I'll take the couch. You can stay in the bedroom."

"No, the room smells like you and I'm mad at you right now. Let's just go to bed. We can talk in the morning." I get up from the couch and start walking to my office. I reach the door before turning around. Colby is still on the couch with his head in his hands.

"Oh, and Colby?"

"Yeah?" He slowly lifts his head and looks me in the eyes. They're watery.

"I love you."

"I love you too." I smile softly before disappearing into the room.

#colby #colby brock #colby fanfic #colby fan fic #colby fanfiction #colby fan fiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fan fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fan fiction

[tarasstorybook]

Crashing

Finding time to sit down and breathe was not one of Phoenix’s strong suits, there was almost always something keeping his attention whether it was running his section of Hell, meetings between the princes and princesses, or the new added stress of being a parent and making sure Isabel didn’t do something stupid. Phoenix would work himself so much that he barely noticed there was something off with him. He did notice how every once in a while his hands would shake, sometimes he would feel lightheaded, and on very rare occasions, if he ignored it long enough, he’d straight up pass out. It was something that he had been dealing with some time after he fell, but he always just brushed it off as it being stress induced, he never thought it would be something serious.

Phoenix had been pretty good at taking off when it would start, the most others would get to see was the slight tremor in his hands. But now that he was spending more and more time around others, it was getting harder and harder to hide. The last thing he needed was someone worrying about his well being, he was fine there was nothing wrong. Phoenix thought he was fine at least, until it got to its worst point and he had passed out one day in his office.

Sydney was there when it happened, he was talking with her about things that needed to be done around the section that needed to be kept up on. The usual things that had to be done. The lightheadedness hit early while he was talking with her, to try and hide what was going on he chose to lean against his desk and force his composure to stay calm.

“Oh and I was told to bring this to you.” Sydney hands him paperwork that she was holding onto.

“What is it?” He reaches out to take it from her, his hand shaking as he went to do so. Shit, not here, not now. Brief panic flashes across his features as he takes it quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“Something about getting a new batch of demons for your section, I don’t know I skimmed it.” Sydney noticed Phoenix’s hand shaking when he took the papers from her. “Are you okay Phe? You don’t normally shake like that.”

“Mmhm, fine.” Phoenix answers a little too quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”

“You know you suck at lying right?” She looks at him skeptically.

“I’m not lying.” He has to catch himself from falling over, bracing a hand against his desk just to try and keep himself upright.

“Phoenix you’re not okay.”

“Nonsense, I’m fine Syd you don’t have to worry.” He makes the mistake in walking away from his desk, the world went black then and he couldn’t recall what happened after that, he wasn’t even sure if he hit the floor.

When he comes to Sydney’s scowling as she’s standing over him. He hadn't seen that look in a long, long time. At first when he woke up, he didn’t recognize where he was. It was when he started to sit up that it registered, Sydney had taken him to Haven’s hospital.

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath. “Sydney I-”

“Save it.” She says to him, looking down at her phone and starts to walk out the door. “Summer will be by to talk to you in a few minutes, I texted Max and he said he’ll be here as soon as he can when he explains things to Aries. Knowing him though he’ll let Max off early without the explanation.”

“Fuck.” Phoenix lays back down, covering his face with both hands. He really fucked up this time, could he just pretend to be dead so Summer could leave him alone? The irritating plastic clip currently stuck to his finger said otherwise, he technically didn’t need to have a heartbeat to be alive, but it brought comfort to those that were used to such a thing like Izzy.

“You can say that again.” Summer greets him. “Phoenix I love you like a brother but you’re a dumbass.”

“I know.” He dares to push himself back up again to sit up once more. “Before you say anything I-”

“Hold your tongue Phe, you can’t let your blood sugar levels get so low.” She was looking down at her clipboard.

“My what?” He looks at her confused, when did they run tests?

“Don’t hate us because this is standard to see what’s wrong with you when you’re unable to tell us yourself.” Sadie had joined the conversation, it was normal for the two of them to be working together. “But we had to maybe draw blood to see if there was anything in your system to tell us what was wrong. When Sydney told us you collapsed she had no idea about it.”

“And clearly by your state of confusion you had no idea either.” Summer finally looks up at him. “I know you’re an angel and can bounce back from pretty much anything but still Phoenix, this is ridiculous.”

“You have to start taking better care of yourself, you can’t let it get that low.” Sadie adds on.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Phoenix questions, he didn’t fully understand what they were talking about.

“You need to eat something before it gets that low.” Summer explains to him.

“Granola bar, fruit, something small as a quick fix until you have time to get it back to normal.” Sadie adds as examples as she works around him.

“Was the heart monitor really necessary?”

“Yes.” They both answer.

Summer goes through a list of things Phoenix can do to monitor his blood sugar and make sure that it doesn’t drop that low ever again, promising him that if she sees him there for the same reason she’ll beat him up for it. He laughs but he takes her word for it, Summer was pretty good at keeping her promises. Max had showed up at the end of the release process, Summer and Sadie were more than happy to tell Max why Phoenix was there, earning Phoenix a tongue lashing about how he should have told someone what was going on. Phoenix does his best to defend himself and tell Max that he had no idea what it was until Sydney brought him there. She put up with so much of his shit, Phoenix was currently thinking of ways to try to make it up to her. In the meantime he had an upset Max to try and calm down, this was going to be a long day.

#my work #My writing #My Story #My characters #my ocs #Original Work #original writing #original characters #sydney #summer #sadie #phoenix #max (briefly) #blood sugar issues #hospital visit #phoenix goes to the hospital lol #I started this a while ago #and just now finished it #phoenix is stupid #but whats new #finally got time to start/finish writings #because of recent events im probably gonna have more time to write #cant go to class #cant go to work #so i'll write till online class starts #and I hopefully go back to work #might delete those tags later #just wanted to let you know if yall see more writing than normal that's why #okay goodnight

[ralfstrashcan]

3x18 Reaction / Commentary

Anxious feeling of imminent doom in my gut? Check. Skipping breakfast in favor of running to my laptop like a starving person? Check. Chances of surviving this episode with my sanity intact? Uhhh.... Well here goes nothing.

But one more thing before we get started (Does anyone wanna get out? Yeah, me!!!! Okay sorry.)

Who's this mysterious “Alex” person?? A new player on the board???

Alright alright, I'm stalling, I know. It's weird, last week couldn't pass quick enough but now I really don't wanna click the play button... okay anyway you're probably not here to read my angsting, so. Deep breath and here goes.

In terms of putting my nerves at ease this is working out pretty good. I love Becky, okay, and her sibling ship with Simon and the Sneak Peek made me real happy and I can't wait to see more of those two together (especially considering this'll probably be her last appearance on the show). So, yeah Team Lewis! (Also that comment about them and Clary never missing a Halloween together? I need all the kid fics!!!)

Lol dude I mean you literally died for knowing about it, but sure, make an understatement XD Also, “all the way from Florida”??? Last thing I knew about her she was lying in a hospital bed a week ago (aka 3A)? When did she get released? And relocated? I missed that???

:D :D :D <3<3<3

Queen Izzy :))))))) btw those kids had seriously lacking survival skills if you ask me. That wasn't normal, right? And where were their supervisors??

Effing f-i-n-a-l-l-y.

Also, Magnus with the deflecting again as soon as he's recovered just the tiniest bit is both painfully ic and also just painful </3

Ugh, can you believe Clace entered the Malec scene even though they must have felt it was a bad time and deranged it with their flirting? Unfair. In any case I agree, Clary was always and will always be an idiot XD haha okay sorry, I don't really mean that (only like, 83%) it's just the setup was too good to pass it up ;) I mean even Alec laughed at Jace calling her an idiot so I'm well within my rights to do it, too XD

Thanks, Alec, for sabotaging the one shot at open communication you had. I mean, I want to believe he does it because he realizes Magnus is back to his deflecting self and prodding will get him nowhere, but uhm, could he try for longer than three seconds before giving up? Is he really gonna let Magnus off the hook so easily and do something stupid and reckless instead?? *sigh* BUT ALSO HIS FRAKKING FACE OKAY I CAN'T

“Back from the Plot Fold”

Alec “Tact” Lightwood looooool

“Bitch I worked on this performance for centuries how dare you”

SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

sdfshfsjdkfjsdf I love the way he talks okay. Exquisite. (Also he has a birthmark on his lip. It's really distracting. Am I implying Asmodeus is hot? Maybe. You can't prove a thing.)

............................................................your self-confident didn't make any progress since season 1, did it, Alec? *sigh* I mean he's basically agreeing with Asmodeus that this is what will happen if their situation doesn't change.

Okay what is structure, let me just yell my impressions of this scene at you. 1) Both of their acting is stellar. Love all the little body language cues, especially Asmodeus's mocking facial expressions. 2) “Return what you stole” and Asmodeus protesting it because clearly he had a “fair deal” with Magnus. 3) Alec breaking eye contact whenever Asmodeus lands a hit (“One he already regrets.” “You make him vulnerable, weak.”) 4) The fact that Alec protests the potential-line with “We love each other.” I was confused at first but when you think about it Alec says that they help each other access their full potential by loving each other and that's a beautiful sentiment. 5) Of course then Asmodeus lands another hit with “Then I'm afraid you will be the death of him” and Alec is back to looking away.

Thank you, Alec, for not being a total idiot.

“...or else the deal is off.” Obviously. Thank you, Asmodeus, for not being a total idiot either.

.........did he just nod? I knew I was right making that 'total' italic, implying he's still somewhat of an idiot XD

sooooo pretttyyyyyyyyyyyyy

And I can't believed Clary missed Luke so much she visited him in prison a total of 0 times.

Look I'm weak and I dig the Jace-Luke-father-son-in-law-dynamic.

Also can we take a moment to appreciate the fact that Alec is able to function as Head of the Institue even though he has to make the hardest decision of his life at the same time?? Just saying. Guy knows how to handle his shadowhunter responsibility. If only he was as capable in handling other things and omg this is not an innuendo you naughty people, I meant emotional intelligence goddammit.

I mean, he's not wrong? The way he cares about her is uniquely twisted, so.

.........................is Alec having 2x12 flashbacks? Because I sure am.

Hmmmm always admiring Clary's screaming skills :)

*sigh* I mean she didn't just SAY intense pain for a short while? Why am I even bothering.

The scientist has spoken lol.

1) They had a whole underground basement full of tons and tons of that serum, right? If those are all made up of nanoparticles then I really really wonder how big the Glorious splitter was that they extracted the serum from. Since, you know, that whole stash was supposed to be enough for the Downworlders all over the world. Wtf 2) I guess “self-destructing” that basement is gonna come back to roost them and they need to recover the original sword to eliminate the Evil Rune, right???? haha

Asmodeus wrote: Hurry up pretty boy, our deal isn't on the table forever ;)

I'm actually impressed Jace remembered to ask Alec about the proposal. You get some more diligence starlets, Jace <3

OMG ALEC ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME *sigh* I mean, those two situations are obviously totally comparable, right? I for my part am, again, having severe 2x12 flashbacks, where Alec asked Jace's council about something that Jace totally wasn't equipped to answer. *SIGH*

And I guess Jace isn't suspicious because of Alec's super suspicious behavior, right?????? Ugh.

The sad part is, Alec will probably see that as confirmation that he should go through with it because he doesn't want to be selfish. So while yay, Alec seeking council, he does it in the worst way possible :( at least I got some parabatai feels out of it :/

On the one hand I'm glad she sees it that way* on the other hand this is clearly supposed to be the influence of the rune, so that's kinda undermining her statement and making it even less credible. Thanks, show.

*Yes he was a victim, no he still carries some responsibility for his actions because free will is a thing and he's had some time on earth where he wasn't exactly coerced by anyone. Manipulated, yes. But he's aware of his agency and he should have used it better. I get that I'm asking for a lot here, maybe too much, and circumstances were always against him, but I'm also not absolving him of all his crimes.

Magnus deflecting because that's what he does. God forbid a scene that could be about him actually ends up being about him instead of a side pairing I couldn't care less about. *sigh*

Also, I'm not exactly sure if Magnus really thinks Alec thought being around Maryse could help him, or if he just said that as another means to deflect because honestly, the way Alec suggested to Magnus he go to Maryse was more the here-go-see-your-babysitter-approach than anything else, especially because he basically cut of the conversation they where having before Clace interrupted. *SIGH*

WELL I COULD

YOU NO FRIKKIN SAY, MARYSE

“My lips are sealed.... especially about my issues ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

THE DISDAIN AHAHHAHAHA CATCH ME WHEEZING ON THE GROUND

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SEELIE QUEEN IS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is this.... actually......... a scene with Alec and Izzy???? HELL YEAH

Okay, words. First off, I LOVE that Alec spills all the beans, and to Izzy, the one emotionally capable Lightwood. I mean, yay Jalec and all, but it's an universally acknowledged truth that Lightwood Men seem to be pretty unable to handle their emotions in a productive way.

Second off, the music playing in the background? Is the one from the Malec Breakup Scene from 2x18. Yay mood reference, I mean. Thanks for that lovely detail, show. (Hahahaha I don't even know if I'm sarcastic or not because it's so witty but on the other hand it's just cruelly twisting the knife like r u for real man give me a damn break.)

Third off, I love basically every line of this dialogue. The fact that Alec (or anyone really) FINALLY acknowledges that Magnus gave up his powers and saved Jace for Alec. Alec's argument: “Magnus sacrificed everything so I could feel whole and now I have the chance to do the same for him.” Also that wording, “a chance”? Not an obligation, not a repayment of a dept. A chance. Because he loves Magnus and this is his chance to fix it. (In his eyes at least, pssssh.)

And Izzy's intent “He wouldn't want this. He loves you so much.” So valid. And less biased (aka skewed by shitty self-esteem) than Alec's assessment of the situation.

Also this

Ouch, just. Ouch. So ic.

Also this

Izzy asking all the right questions. The way Alec looks away means “No” and the determined way he meets her gaze again after means “But that doesn't matter.” Very good scene.

(Honestly the only thing I would have wished for is that Izzy is a little more firm in her assertion that Magnus wouldn't want this and she like, tries to change Alec's mind instead of just accepting his decision.)

hehehe :)

The same time you moved to Florida apparently.

hahaahahha <3<3<3 kick-ass sister material

.........<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 this deserves so much recognition okay. Since we all know drinking away his problems is Magnus's No 1 coping mechanism. Too bad he'll be pushed into his liquor again by Alec unwisely breaking up with him at the end of the episode (because I daren't dream of a change of heart on Alec's side.)

Also is this the part where Maryse blabs out Alec's proposal plans??

Ugh yay, so after Maryse reassuring Magnus that they are all here for him I guess the breakup is just gonna get 5 shades uglier. Yaaay.

Love that necklace damn.

Obligatory Sizzy moment in front of Becky so she can call Simon out on it later: Check. Just glad this role doesn't fall to Raphael. (Also you bet your ass I chose Becky's line as a picture for this because I'm really that petty.)

Also omg, I just peeked into the German dubbing because obviously the Count von Count pun doesn't work because the words for Count and the word for counting aren't the same here and the guy is named Graf Zahl. And just skdjfslkdjfklsdjfkld Simon's line “That does sound really made up” is honest to God transated with “You're right, I just made him up” like oh my God who is in charge of translating this and why are they so incompetent honestly!!!!!!!! W H Y

Lol that's gotta be the first time in his life that he called her Isabelle. Probably because she was slacking off during patrol.

AAAAAND I'M WHEEZING AGAIN AHAHHA HER OFFENDED FACE Honestly the seelie queen and Becky should start a comedy spin-off, I'd be watching the shit out of that XD

HAHAHAHAH HAVE MERCY XD XD XD Then again, can you blame Simon? Izzy is sooooo droolworthy.

1) She's gonna let Alec, Jace and Clary (two and a half shadowhunters ahaha) take on a whole nest of demons alone? Instead of backing them up? Okay???

2) Why they telling them that??? As far as they are concerned Simon and Becky are civilians, not their parents.

?????? NO SHE SHOULD TAKE BECKY WITH HER!!!!!!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE BECKY TOURING THE INSTITUTE? BECKY MARVELING AT ALL THE UNREALISTIC SHADOWHUNTER TECH?? BECKY KIDDING AROUND IN THE LAB??? I WAS ROBBED!!!

:)))) even Jace breaking out the comedy :D :D :D I approve

Those are some nice wings. Not perfect, but very very nice.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME HAHAHAHAHAHAH

Okay, Parabatai Fight Scene!!! 1) Jace again with his axes, nice.

2) Being sassy instead of, idk, picking up his weapons: Check.

3) True dat, but uh, Jace, what was the plan if Alec hadn't shown up? Inviting Drevak Queen out on a date?

4) I mean, why shoot one when you can shoot five, right? Good motto. But I still kind of want an explanation how two of those arrows could land in the Drevak Queen's head and the other three in her chest, like, what are physics anyway amiright?

5) Shot meant to make Jace look heroic when really, since we earlier learnt that killing the Drevak Queen kills all her spawn*, this was just Alec doing Jace's work for him XD

*Uh, yeah what the hell is up with that. Chitauri Genetic Defect or something? *sigh*

*Feelings of terrible foreboding intensify*

sssssssssssssssssssssssudden

Look, I agree. I just don't think Maia could really comprehend / accept that so fast (and off-screen) because ugh reasons, too tired to repeat myself again *waves hand unhelpfully* but whatever, I can accept this. I made my peace with it.

1) Last time I checked those cells were secured with a combination lock thingy.

2) Thanks Lanaia for sabotaging Sizzy, I'll be sure to send you a gift basket (or, if what I think will happen happens, some flowers for your grave lol).

*snorts* Reminds me of Hannibal who was always making cannibal puns at people and no one noticed XD Also, her knocking Jace out was really dumb? I mean, he wouldn't have stopped her from saving Jonathan because, uh, that's saving her own neck, too. And if she'd portaled them both to the cell she could have disposed of him there way easier, locking him up – since apparently she didn't plan to kill him, and that nice straightjacket would have kept him from alerting the other Shadowhunters way longer than that pipe over the head. So, wholly unnecessary. I mean, in a way it's nice to know that Demonic Clary isn't smarter than Regular Clary.

Dude she's literally wielding a spear, how dumb are you.

Aaaaaand there goes my order to the nearest funeral wreath shop XD

Look I have questions (which, okay, I should have asked sooner but what even is continuity right). When that weird gratifying wing dream sequence started I thought it was Clary tapping into the rune connection and it was the real Jonathan communicating with her. When Jace entered the play field it was clear at least some part must be fake because Jace sure as heck wasn't unconscious / in trance at the time and later didn't give any indication that he participated in some creepy contest for Clary's affections. But now Jonathan is surprised by this, too? He, too, was a product of Clary's imagination? I have so many questions, first of all, why the wings? And the really cheap back-white-symbolism? Also, why did Clary feel so drawn to Jonathan if this was all in her own mind? Was it the influence of the Evil Rune? Does the Evil Rune have a user interface that's shaped to look like Jonathan? Does that mean Jonathan has a Clary-shaped interface??? I need answers.

Ugh. Let's make this long and painful, shall we.

OF COURSE IN THE ONE SCENE WHERE SHIT WILL GO DOWN THEY DON'T FAIL AT CASUAL INTIMACY THANK YOU FOR  N O T H I N G

Let's not talk about the fact that the thought, Alec could mean anything but a break together from everything that's been going on, doesn't even cross Magnus's mind because no. Noooooo. I'd rather talk about how absolutey awesome both of their acting is. For Alec I really like the way he moves his eyes, like the gaze darting around alternating with the rigid stare. For Magnus, uh, everything, just like, his whole face is perfection?? Yeah, that works.

The way he interrupts because he just needs to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Dammit, he does this eyelid dip here, it's not a blink, it's just his eyelids twitching down for a second because this is like a slap in the face. And then he turns and takes a step away because his instinct is to run from this because what is this, this can't be

“Is this about last night? Because I'm going to quit drinking.”

Magnus “forever apologizing for being an 'inconvenience'” Bane, final installment.

Dammit, his face. And again with the deflecting, trivializing his feelings, anything to keep this conversation from going where he thinks it's going.

*EYE ROLL* Sorry but you don't get to play that card after being effin obtuse for 7 episodes, Alec. Nope. Nope.

Magnus, his usual walls rudely ripped away. He has no chance but to admit how shitty he's feeling. And if it wasn't for the circumstances I'd say “yay, finally some communication” but well.

“Fine. I'm in pain,” he says, and Alec turns away, breaking eye contact for a moment because the final confirmation is too much for him for a moment.

I love that Magnus doesn't deliver this line meekly. He's worked up, sure, but there's also a confidence when talking about their relationship. Breaking up is an unrealistic concept to him in that moment because it's so absurd. It's not fixing anything so why would it happen? Makes no sense. *insert weeping sounds*

Brutal and efficient. Very ic.

Damn how does even his blink convey so much vulnerability??? (Somewhere Lexa is nodding approvingly.) (Also why didn't I find gif sets of this :c)

“You said there's nothing I can do to make it better.”

There's an audible difference in his voice, because this part is true and he's not lying. The controlled monotone isn't there anymore. This is his real despair in the face of not being able to do anything to help Magnus.

“It's not your job to make it better.”

Again, if this was a constructive conversation it would be a great step in the right direction. But sadly it isn't, and so this is too little too late.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch you suffer for the rest of our lives?”

Alec is still speaking the truth, and this is his motivation to go through with it. Because a) he believes what Magnus said about never being happy again without his magic (sidenote, he didn't, in fact, say that, he said it might never pass (meaning being affected by the magic loss) and he's not happy at the moment, which isn't the same as he'll definitely surely never be happy again without his magic, but whatever) and b) he's sure he doesn't mean all that much to Magnus. He's his current love, but that's about it. Nothing special, not worth leaving such devastating traces in Magnus's life and he certainly doesn't mean as much to Magnus as Magnus means to him. And especially from that second part stems his gravely false assessment of the situation which in the course of consideration leads him to the conclusion that breaking Magnus's heart will hurt less in the long run than him not having his magic. There's also the fact that be probably didn't think about how him doing this to Magnus will confirm every last insecurity Magnus ever had about not being lovable, because I can't believe he would have gone through with this if he'd thought of that. Or at least, he would have been visibly more torn about it, maybe even talked out of it by Izzy, etc. But it's ic for Alec not to think like that, because in a way I guess he loves Magnus too much to really understand that Magnus has these doubts. And Magnus mostly playing his vulnerabilities close to his chest isn't working in his favor here either.

“This isn't you. You're not this selfish.”

This is what I mean. If Alec was less convinced that he's doing the right thing this line might have shaken him out of it. Honestly, I half hoped he'd object this, consequentally incriminate himself and Magnus would catch on that something was going on. But ofc that didn't happen.

The spark line, just. Ouch. Again, very clinical and minimalistc. The way Alec stares, his voice back to being monotone, the way he clenches his jaw. And then his work here is done and he's ready to leave.

It only gets worse from there. Magnus, frozen in disbelieve because this can't possibly be true, and then he starts begging and it breaks my heart every single time okay. To see him reduced to this desperation is just cruel.

I still can't help but note the way Alec readily turns around before Magnus has competely turned around himself. I think he was on the brink of giving in.

The way Magnus holds on to him, hands fluttering over his arms, shoulders, cheeks. The way Alec can't even look at him for the barest second, eyes closed, breath going heavy. Magnus's everything. Just kill me now.

And let's not talk about their kisses and Magnus's whispered words because no. There's nothing to say to that except perfection. Intense, top notch emotion portrayal on both parts.

Then Alec pulls away (how???? gotta admire commitment and an iron will when you see it but boy is it misplaced) and Magnus's hands tremble because this can't be happening, this can't possibly be real.

Note that Alec doesn't look him in the eyes once because he knows if he did, it'd all be over. Also note the look of utter betrayal on Magnus's face. It's not just hurt and heartbreak, it's betrayal because this is what this is. Alec promised him something, made him believe that he could trust in him, in them, and now he's going back on his word.

Well, this was fun, let's never do it again.

Look, I don't have the nerve for this anymore, so I'll keep it short and in no particular order: - Asmodeus is ass powerful and manages to distance-summon himself, yay, nice to know that the one time a shadowhunter doesn't act stupid and impulsive it still doesn't pay off. - Asmodeus killing pissed off warlock lady was both obvious and unnecessary. - His smile is creepy. - “My son needs me.” MY ASS - He still needs to support himself on the back of the chair because he's a weak bitch hahaha.

Conclusion: *sounds of despair*

I just watched the 3x19 promo and.... they're really gonna end Malec on a train wreck this season, aren't they?? Oh God. They hoped they'd have a forth season to work through it and that's why they served themselves with issues and second helpings of extra issues, and since s4 isn't a thing we're gonna get an unsatisfying as hell 2x20-style resolution in the finale. God please say I'm wrong but like. Arrgghhhh.

(Also, credit where credit is due: “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?” is the line from Captain America in TWS before the elevator fight.)

#shadowhunters #3x18 #alec lightwood #jace wayland #magnus bane #clary fray #jonathan morgenstern #isabelle lightwood #simon lewis #becky lewis #the seelie queen #meliorn #kyle #maia roberts #luke garroway #asmodeus #pissed warlock lady #malec #reaction