#i guess my shadowhunter one fits for hurt/comfort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Illicit Affairs

A while ago I wrote a fic about Alastair’s relationship with Charles and posted it on AO3 (titled Tolerate it there)

The original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31293734

I rewrote it because some of the details were wrong and some parts I didn’t like anymore, so I’m posting the new one here.

CW: toxic relationship, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), some of which sort of pressured (Since Alastair is a minor, it definitely cannot be considered consensual), mentions of alcoholism

It had been a long time since Alastair had visited the Paris Institute. Last time must have been the Herondale party when he was fourteen. It was a magnificent building, often said to be second only to the London Institute, and the second largest in Europe. He would be staying here for a year, away from his family. He’d pressed his parents about it for months. They’d thought he was too young for a travel year at sixteen, but after speaking of it with his mother he’d been allowed to go. Alastair guessed she felt sorry for him, being trapped at home again, and had decided he deserved a break.

Paris would be a chance to start over, or at least he hoped so. He’d thought the same of Shadowhunter Academy though, and what a disaster that had been… He didn’t quite dare hope here would be better, but he did know Charles Fairchild would be here and the few times they’d met he’d been very kind to him. Alastair had met him here, ironically, at the Herondale’s party when he was fourteen. Alastair had been so eager to impress powerful people, and Charles had seemed very impressed with his manners and his knowledge on shadowhunter politics. They’d started writing each other letters, and Charles had become Alastair’s first real friend. He certainly didn’t consider any of the boys from school his friends.

About a year ago Charles had sent him a copy of Machiavelli’s the Prince, which had become his favorite book. And recently Charles had informed him that he would move to Paris for a year to replace the head of the Institute, and had suggested he come there for his travel year. He was a bit young, that was true, but being so isolated wasn’t good for his progress and even his parents couldn’t deny that spending time with the consul’s eldest son was good for their family’s social standing.

He entered, carrying his bags with him. He’d tried to pack lightly, but Risa and his mother had added all kinds of things over the past week and now it was still heavy even for a trained shadowhunter to carry on his own.

‘You must be Mr. Carstairs,’ a woman said.

Judging from her dress and lack of runes, Alastair guessed she must be one of the mundane servants here.

‘That’s right,’ he said.

‘I’m Madeleine,’ she said, ‘I’m a maid here. Come, I’ll show you to your room.’

He followed the servant woman to a bedroom, where Alastair dropped his bags. Madeleine left him there to unpack, and Alastair took his time. He hated mess, and preferred it when everything had its proper place. He’d packed a few of his favorite daggers, and took them out, looking carefully for a proper place for them.

After a while he noticed someone was standing in the doorway. Familiar red hair, styled carefully, and dressed in a stylish grey suit. Charles Fairchild. He didn’t look much like his younger brother, and although everyone was always fussing about Matthew’s looks, Alastair preferred Charles’ serious face, the way he dressed like someone powerful instead of like a clown.

‘Look at you, all grown up,’ Charles said. ‘It’s been a while, Alastair. I’m glad to see you arrived.’

Alastair hadn’t seen Charles in person in over a year. He still looked very handsome, and Alastair was glad he was here. Everything was better than being home around his father.

‘I’m glad to see you too,’ Alastair said. ‘Congratulations on making interim head of the institute.’

‘Thanks. It is a great opportunity for me. I feel like every shadowhunter politician should have some experience at an institute. Growing up in Idris leaves one a bit sheltered from the harsh realities of Shadowhunter life, I’m afraid.’

Alastair wondered where his childhood fit in. He certainly hadn’t grown up somewhere safe and sheltered, but if it made him a better Shadowhunter he had no idea.

‘That’s why many shadowhunters take a travel year, don’t we?’ Alastair said.

‘Exactly. I lived in London myself before coming here, although of course that is where my family is from and demonic activity there is exceptionally low. Come, I’ll show you around the institute. I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks myself, but I have figured out the lay out.’

Charles showed him around, leading him to the main hall where most of the meetings were held.

‘You’re not yet old enough to be in enclave meetings, are you?’ Charles asked.

‘I will turn seventeen in a month,’ Alastair said. ‘So no, not yet.’

‘Shame, I think you would do well. Of course, I will give you permission to come and watch. That way, you’ll still learn plenty.’

Did Charles really think he would do well?

‘You’re very mature for your age,’ Charles continued. ‘Nothing like my brother. I can’t believe you’re only sixteen.’

Alastair did not want to discuss Charles’ younger brother, but was flattered Charles thought he was mature. Of course, he had to be, since he’d had to take care of his father from a young age. Being young and immature was a luxury Alastair did not have, unlike Matthew Fairchild.

‘I think I would like to watch enclave meetings,’ Alastair said.

Charles showed him to the training rooms next, and asked him about his preference for weapons and Alastair told him about his spears.

‘Spears, huh? I thought I saw you with daggers in your room.’

‘Those are decorative, mostly. I collect them. But I always carry at least one spear with me when I go outside, you never know when something might happen.’

Alastair remembered the vetis demon Clive Cartwright had released all these years ago at the academy. How he’d been too scared to tell his “friends” how he felt about the prank, that it was a terrible idea. He’d gone along anyway, thinking that if he was there at least he had some control of the situation. Then Clive had died, and perhaps Alastair could have saved him, had he carried his spears. He’d never left them behind again.

‘Seems a bit unpractical,’ Charles said. ‘How do you even carry a spear?’

‘Not at all. You see, these can be folded, so I can comfortably carry them underneath my suit. And they allow me to fight demons from a bit more distance.’

Alastair hated it when he got covered in blood, ichor, and other bits of demon parts, but fortunately that didn’t happen as often anymore. He still hated the way he looked after a fight though, with his hair all over the place and his clothes messy, but it was better than being covered in blood. He always put great effort into his appearance. With people constantly judging him for how he looked, he couldn’t afford to be seen with even a hair out of place.

‘Would you like to show me a bit? I’ve never trained with spears myself, nor seen anyone else do it. It’s a bit of an unconventional weapon after all.’

Alastair hesitated, and then unfolded one of his spears from underneath his suit. He’d still been carrying it even when there was no need inside. He guessed he’d forgotten to take it off, that’s how comfortable they were underneath his clothes. It was convenient now though, since he didn’t see any spears in the training room. He didn’t feel like changing into gear just for a demonstration, that would come later during training, but he did step into the training room. It was much bigger than what he was used to at home.

Alastair threw the spear, hitting a target about as far away as he could hit from here, hoping it would impress Charles.

‘I usually carry more than one spear, so I can throw them as well without ever being left unarmed.’

‘Clever,’ Charles said. ‘I’ve mostly trained with swords myself. Of course, I do spend most of my time on Shadowhunter politics and there’s much I can teach you about that. And maybe someday you can teach me how to use a spear.’

Alastair suspected Charles wasn’t much of a fighter, but he didn’t mind. At least he didn’t have to worry about someone who spent most of his time writing letters and arguing with older shadowhunters. Charles was very unlikely to get hurt somehow, which allowed Alastair to let down his guard a bit.

During his first few weeks in Paris he continued to spend much time with Charles, the older man showing him around and telling him everything about his work, how to run an institute, and the experience he had helping his mother with her work as Consul.

‘Have you considered a career in politics yourself, Alastair? Maybe head an institute someday, or even become Inquisitor.’

Alastair had not, but he was intrigued. ‘I’d probably not do such a great job. I’m not great at getting people to like me.’

At the academy some people had liked him, of course. His “friends” who’d found his witty insults hilarious. And little Thomas Lightwood, who had followed him around for some reason. Alastair had always found his presence a bit uncomfortable, the way Thomas had seemed to see right through him. Yet at the same time, being adored did feel nice.

Most of the time he tended to antagonize people, keep them at a distance. It was safer that way, people who were scared of him would not hurt him.

Charles put his hand on his shoulder. Alastair knew it was only supposed to be friendly, but it didn’t feel that way. It sent a shiver down his spine and Alastair desperately hoped Charles hadn’t noticed. He didn’t want to know what Charles would think of him if he knew how Alastair really felt about him.

‘You don’t have to worry about getting people to like you,’ Charles said. ‘Not when you can make them owe you.’

Alastair wasn’t quite sure what Charles meant, but it sounded promising. He could make people owe him. And perhaps with Charles’ help, he could make his way up in the Clave, and escape the shame his father had brought to the Carstairs name.

He also knew none of that was likely to happen. He knew that if people discovered what he really was, he’d lose everything. He’d bring more shame to his family than his father did, which Alastair thought was completely unfair.

‘I like that,’ Alastair said. ‘I can work with that.’

‘Sure you can. But if it’s any consolation, I like you.’

At that, Alastair smiled.

The evening before Alastair’s seventeenth birthday, he discovered a note in his room.

Come to my bedroom at midnight. Make sure no one sees you.

C.F.

Alastair wasn’t sure why Charles would want to see him in his bedroom, but he was also curious. He liked Charles in a way he hadn’t often liked people. Sure, there had been men he found attractive, but he felt like he connected to Charles. The older man seemed to understand him in a way no one else could, and was always willing to give him advice and teach him about shadowhunter politics. He had no idea, however, if Charles was like him. He would think it unlikely. Charles was a respectable man, a powerful man. Charles would be consul one day. But Alastair guessed powerful men had their secrets too, and why else would Charles invite him to his bedroom?

Alastair decided to go. He used his stealth to get through the institute unseen, something he had been good at for some time. When he was young, he’d always made sure no one discovered him before he found his father passed out somewhere. He knew even then what could happen if the wrong people found him alone on the streets at night.

No one was up at this hour, but he made sure to be quiet and not wake anyone. He found his way to Charles’s room, and quietly knocked on the door. For a moment he worried he might have gotten the wrong room and someone would be asking what he was doing here at this hour, but Charles opened the door, and rushed him inside, closing the door behind them.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’

‘You asked me to.’

‘I did. Come, sit.’

Alastair sat down in the armchair. ‘Why did you want to see me at this hour?’

‘You seem like a man of many secrets, Alastair,’ Charles said.

Alastair couldn’t deny that exactly. Between his father and his romantic feelings for Charles, he had plenty of secrets.

‘You might not have realized,’ Charles continued. ‘But I have a secret of my own. Something that I’ve had to hide. I haven’t told a soul.’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘I wanted you to know my secret, because I’ve suspected for some time that your secret is similar. And I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out, so now is the best time.’

‘What sort of secret?’ Alastair asked, trying to sound more innocent than he was.

He suspected what Charles meant, but he wasn’t about to reveal that in case he was wrong.

Charles took in a deep breath, and Alastair could tell he found it difficult to share, even now. ‘I like men,’ he said. ‘I’ve known for several years, but I’ve never been able to tell anyone. But I’ve noticed the way you look at me… The way you respond when I touch you. I thought you should know that… that you aren’t alone.’

Alastair was left speechless for a moment. Even if he’d suspected, hearing Charles say it out loud was different. He’d known he liked men for several years, but he’d never told anyone and had never met another man he knew was like him. And Charles was a man he was definitely attracted to.

‘You’re right,’ Alastair said after an uncomfortable silence. ‘I do like men. And I like you.’

Charles took his hand, brushing over it with his thumb. ‘Can I kiss you?’

‘Please,’ Alastair said, a bit overwhelmed from everything.

Charles leant over and kissed him, gentle at first, then a bit firmer. Alastair had never been kissed before, had never considered it possible, and certainly not with someone like Charles Fairchild. He’d never imagined Charles might be like him, and even then that he would want this with him.

They broke apart. ‘I presume you understand, Alastair, that no one can know,’ Charles said. ‘We would both be ruined, if people found out. But if we’re careful, we can be together.’

Alastair was fine with that. He wasn’t ready for anyone to know about him liking men and wasn’t sure he would ever be ready.

‘I won’t tell,’ Alastair promised. It wasn’t like he had anyone to tell.

Charles didn’t say anything and kissed him again, hungrier this time. Demanding. He dragged him to the bed. Alastair wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt good. He’d never thought someone could love him, but Charles did. He was a bit scared of rushing it, it was all so new. Charles began to remove his clothes and Alastair allowed it, still not sure what was going to happen.

When they were finished, Alastair tried to find a comfortable position next to Charles.

‘Happy birthday, Alastair,’ he said, kissing him again. ‘But you do have to leave.’

‘Can’t I… Can’t I sleep here?’

‘I wish you could, but it would be suspicious if people saw you leaving my bedroom. At this hour, no one would see you leave. I’ll see you tomorrow. I have a gift for you.’

Alastair was a bit disappointed he couldn’t stay any longer, but he quickly dressed himself and sneaked back to his own bedroom. He slept well for a change. He could still feel Charles’ lips, his hands exploring him.

The next morning, Charles did indeed have a gift for him. ‘I realized how important your dagger collection was to you,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you have one of these yet. It’s called a poignard, and was popular in France during the renaissance.’

Alastair smiled as he took a look at it. He didn’t have a dagger like this one, that was true. He’d wanted one for a while, but hadn’t gotten around to buying it.

‘Thank you, it’s beautiful. It’s true that these were popular in western Europe for a while, but they were also the primary weapon of the army of the Savafid empire in Persia during the 16th and 17th century.’

‘Oh, I did not know that,’ Charles said.

He spent much of the next months sneaking his way in and out of Charles’ bedroom at night. Hiding an affair was exciting, of course, and Alastair loved the thrill of it, but it was also difficult. When they saw each other during the day, Alastair had to fight to keep a neutral face, to hide any signs of affection. But at night he could be with Charles, comfortable for a while until he had to leave his room without being seen. With Charles he could let his guard down in a way he’d never done before. And he gave Charles everything he had, everything he could give. The other man could be demanding, and Alastair did not want to disappoint. He wanted to be enough for him, to be able to give him all he needed.

After a few months, Charles mentioned the topic of marriage when they were alone at night.

‘When I return to London, it is very likely I will enter an engagement with miss Ariadne Bridgestock. She’s the daughter of the Inquisitor, and such an alliance could prove quite useful.’

Alastair felt his heart sank. ‘But I thought…’ He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. I thought you loved me, he wanted to say.

‘It will likely be a temporary engagement,’ Charles said, taking his hand. ‘I do not care for her as I do for you, you know that. But to be allied to the Bridgestock family will certainly help me be elected Consul when my mother’s term ends and maybe then we could truly be together.’

Alastair’s eyes went wide. ‘Do you really think that’s possible?’

‘Perhaps. But I would not mind if you chose to marry. I would still want to be with you.’

Alastair determinedly shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I know I could never love a woman like I love you, and I’d never want to deceive someone of my love.’

‘Not all women mind,’ Charles said. ‘But I understand.’

Alastair was not so sure he did. But he didn’t like fighting with Charles and his lover had the gift to make him forget about whatever he was angry about as soon as they were in his bed together.

There were times when he did worry about the state of their relationship. When Charles decided he couldn’t accompany him when he wanted to see the city, claiming they couldn’t be seen together. Working together wasn’t an issue, nor was Charles teaching him about politics, but they certainly couldn’t go see the city together. And especially when Charles again brought up the topic of marriage, this time suggesting it would be good for both of them if Alastair got engaged.

‘I’m not going to change my mind on this, Charles,’ he said. ‘I do not want to be married to someone I do not love.’

‘And what will you do when your parents ask why you refuse to get married?’

‘I’ll figure something out. Besides, since we move around so much we barely meet other shadowhunters. It’ll be easy enough to convince them I simply haven’t met anyone I like.’

Alastair dreaded going back to his parents, away from Charles and from Paris and from everything that made him feel safe. But he also missed his mother and sister and regretted not being there to protect them. He wanted to mend the bond with Cordelia, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t tell her the truth about their father, and he certainly couldn’t tell her about Charles.

Charles paused. ‘You are very young. You still have plenty of time to find someone. But at some point you will be expected to marry. It could become very difficult to get ahead if you refuse. And what would your parents think, when you show no interest in women or marriage whatsoever?’

‘I guess so. But plenty of people marry for reasons other than love. My parents did, although they did fall in love over time. You’ll understand when you’re older.’

Alastair felt uncomfortable when Charles said that. His lover considered him a child still. Hadn’t he complimented him on how mature he was? Yet Charles often did not take him seriously, as if he was too young to understand. He often commented that he would understand things better when he was older. He was old enough to sleep with Charles though. He couldn’t make sense of it. So he did the best he could to please Charles, to show him he was mature and that he did understand. But when they differed of opinion, Charles always dismissed his ideas. That was fine though, he would be an adult soon enough and then Charles would have to take him seriously.

Except when Alastair arrived in London, nothing much seemed to change. Alastair attended every enclave meeting, now old enough to speak there himself, and did the best he could to have valuable input in these meetings, but Charles rarely listened. He preferred the sound of his own voice, even in the emergency they were in, which Charles wasn’t handling well at all. Just let me help you, he wanted to say. Just admit you cannot do this and you need me.

Not to mention here he was confronted with the presence of miss Ariadne Bridgestock, Charles’ fiancée. Alastair didn’t resent miss Bridgestock, he didn’t know her very well but he understood that as an adopted Indian woman, she was in no position to refuse to marry Charles. But he wanted Charles all to himself, to be the first thing on his mind, he didn’t want him to get married. He guessed that was not possible for someone like him. They’d always have to keep up appearances. He’d always have to be a secret.

Charles wasn’t there when Alastair needed him either. He was busy with his work, or with his fiancée who was ill and unlikely to wake up anytime soon, when Alastair just needed someone to talk to, someone to hold him. He had no one but Charles, no one he could confide in. He loved his sister, but he needed to protect her, not burden her with his struggles. Nor did he think she’d understand how he felt about Charles and he did not think he could take that rejection. He knew Layla was frustrated by his distance, but what else was he supposed to do?

So instead he was alone in his bedroom, after Charles had told him he didn’t have time to talk, to be more careful and not speak to him like that in public. Charles had promised he would come see him late in the evening, and he would just have to hold on until then. He knew Cordelia was spending more and more time with James Herondale and although he didn’t hate them as much as he pretended he did, he didn’t trust them either. They were so reckless, running towards danger and dragging Cordelia with them. Just like Charles, Herondale and his friends had no idea what they were up against and vastly overestimated their abilities to solve the situation, and one of these days Cordelia would get hurt because of it. And what would happen when his father was convicted? When Cordelia would inevitably find out the truth? Alastair didn’t want her to know, but at the same time he could barely stomach how she tried to rescue him as if he was some sort of hero.

Alastair cried for most of the day. His mother and Risa had gotten used to him locking himself in his bedroom by now and had left him, Risa only knocking once to announce she’d made tea. He hated crying, he hated being vulnerable like this and having to hide, but sometimes he couldn’t do it anymore. The anger had faded away and all that was left was emptiness. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was crying over, the way Cordelia kept putting herself in danger, the state of his relationship, his father. Plenty of options. It happened more and more frequently that he collapsed when he was sure no one would see, and Charles was never there to help him through it. He guessed he was expecting too much. But if Charles asked for him, told him he needed him, he would be there, always, no matter how inconvenient. Because he loved Charles.

He’d calmed a bit when it was time for dinner, and when everyone else had gone to bed, Charles did come for him. Alastair didn’t feel like arguing again, and instead accepted that even if it was a bit late, at least Charles was here now. He drew a soundless rune on the door, just in case someone would wake up and hear them.

‘Have you been crying?’ Charles asked.

To anyone else, he would have denied it. But Charles he trusted, even if his lover was not careful with his feelings at all. ‘A little,’ he said.

‘It is unbecoming for a man to cry,’ Charles said. ‘You’ll learn, in time, to deal with your emotions better.’

‘Perhaps I would have if you had actually made time for me when I needed you,’ Alastair bit back.

‘You know I was busy,’ Charles said. ‘Really, Alastair, I thought you were past this.’

He didn’t dare say anything else on the topic. He wasn’t sure he could take Charles’ dismissal. Charles was right, of course, he was too old to cry, had been for a long time, but what else was he supposed to do? The longer he held it in, the worse it got, and as long as no one actually saw him when he cried, it was alright.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you came.’

‘I am too. I missed you.’

Alastair wished Charles would stay with him, but as always he left when they were finished. It made sense, of course, Charles wouldn’t be able to explain sleeping over at the Carstairs house without anyone suspecting. Still, he wished he wasn’t alone. So he cried again, even if Charles had said it was unbecoming. No one would hear him. No one would know just how broken he was. He’d considered leaving Charles, but who was he kidding, Charles was all he had. He didn’t know how he’d survive without him.

When Cordelia came to talk to him about Charles, Alastair panicked. He was relieved to hear she still accepted him, but how could she have eavesdropped on his private conversations? That hurt the most, knowing that even if she claimed to love him, she didn’t trust him. He knew she hadn’t meant to find out he liked men this way, but she’d followed him because she’d expected him to reveal secrets he’d promised to keep. He remembered how she’d called Charles cruel. How he’d defended Charles’ actions to her, claiming he wasn’t cruel, how everything he did was so they could be together.

Charles said that all the time, but Alastair wasn’t sure he believed it anymore. It seemed more like everything Charles did was to further his career, and sometimes Alastair felt like an afterthought. Or perhaps someone Charles could satisfy his physical needs with, only tolerating that Alastair loved him with everything he had. They usually met to have sex, after all, but there could be much more to being with someone. Like how he’d taken Thomas to a museum, had walked along the Seine with him… Charles didn’t want any of that. The longer he thought about it, the more sick he felt. He still went to see Charles, even if he was disgusted by what he’d done to miss Bridgestock, how he’d abandoned her when she was in coma and replaced her with miss Grace Blackthorn. Even if he wasn’t sure he still liked it when Charles touched him.

Perhaps Cordelia was right, perhaps he should leave him. Charles wasn’t going to be what Alastair needed. And then there was Thomas Lightwood… Thomas, who’d grown up to be tall and strong, but also brave and kind and heroic. Someone Alastair didn’t deserve for sure. But perhaps he could have another chance. Perhaps he could leave Charles.

He looked at his dagger collection, one of the few things that brought him comfort anymore. It felt like there was one stuck inside of him, had been for years. Removing it would hurt, but it was the only way to survive. Having made up his mind, Alastair began to write a letter. He remembered how Alastair had refused Thomas entry into his house, refused to let him make the antidote. How Thomas had insisted that he did know what he was doing. Thomas was a hero. Charles had almost ruined the antidote, and Alastair wasn’t even sure he would have minded. If miss Bridgestock had died, no one would be able to contradict his story of breaking off the engagement before she’d fallen ill.

He knew it wasn’t the best way to break it off, that he should face Charles, but he wasn’t sure he could. He knew how well Charles manipulated him, making him forget his worries with soothing words and kisses. He couldn’t face him, but hopefully if Charles read his letter, he’d know to leave him alone. He was done with this half love, and even if he would end up alone it would be better than whatever he was to Charles. He deserved better.

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #tlh #the last hours #charlestair

25 notes · View notes

imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

Hi! If you are still open to request, can I please suggest you something? I haven’t thought a prompt for it but a situation, I saw you have written many Gabrily fics and wondered if you’d do one with them deciding to have Kit? Like after the hard time they had to have Anna maybe were a little hesitant to have another and how they reached to the conclusion that they wanted one more ? Of course if this fits right with you. Thanks for taking the time on reading this ask have a nice day

Hellooo! I’ve finally finished it! I cannot tell you how long I’ve been writing this fic for 😂 I made it so that Cecily’s pregnancy was a surprise since I like to think that none of their children were planned, just because of how I see these characters. They don’t seem like the kind of people who would plan to have a child, they’d just let life throw at them what it may. Hope you enjoy!

Carry Him In Thy Heart:

Characters: Cecily, Gabriel, Christopher, Jem and Brother Enoch (We can’t have a birth fic without our main man: E-Bro)

Gabriel was frustrated. Yet again, the clave was being difficult, and Bridgestock was annoying as usual. He washed his face, got changed and climbed into bed beside Cecily, who was sleeping with infectious serenity. Gabriel matched her breathing and instantly felt better. He didn’t embrace her, for fear of her waking up, and instead turned around and thought about the meeting. Didn’t Shadowhunters know better? How can they be so foolish?

He sighed and turned around just as Cecily opened her sleepy eyes.

“No no no no, did I wake you?” Gabriel said, pulling her close and holding her against his chest.

Cecily said something, but it came out muffled.

“What?” he asked, pulling away.

“I asked if you were all right.”

“Of course I am.”

Cecily looked at him with knowing eyes.

“Gabriel, you have to trust me. I’m your wife.”

“I do. Of course I trust you.”

Cecily held up her hand to his face. “Then tell me what’s troubling you.”

“The Clave.”

Cecily laughed. “Why is that the root of every Shadowhunter’s problems?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t go.”

Gabriel looked at her in concern. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better.”

“Did the Silent Brothers say what was wrong?”

“They said it was normal, no need to worry.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said. He was about to ask what she meant by normal when Cecily spoke.

“I missed you,” she said as she wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed his cheek.

“I missed you, too.”

She smiled and kissed him again. Suddenly, she was kissing his face all over.

“Cecy,” he laughed.

“I really missed you.” she giggled as she climbed into his chest and held his face in between her hands. She kissed him until she was breathless, and then collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

They sighed in unison and rested in each other’s comfort.

Cecily rested her head on Gabriel’s chest and put her arms around his neck. He was still surprised at how perfectly fit together; like a lock and a key.

“We should get away one of these days.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and smiled. “Where would we go?”

“Idris,” Cecily continued, her voice coming out a bit muffled, “and sleep in late, take Anna to the pond and not stress over the Clave. Just us, and our two children.”

Gabriel nodded happily until he registered what Cecily had said about children and his eyes shot open in surprise. Was Cecily perhaps still sick?

“Cecy, we only have one child.”

She sat up and put her hand on her stomach, her face in pure triumph and joy. “Not for long!”

Gabriel shot upward and accidentally bumped his head against Cecily’s.

“By the angel, Cecy, I’m so sorry.” He hugged her and kissed the spot where their heads collided.

“It’s all right, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

Cecily laughed and kissed him. “You are my idiot.”

Gabriel had briefly forgotten about Cecily’s announcement, until he once again remembered.

“Are you really pregnant?”

Cecily smiled widely and nodded.

“Is that why you were not feeling well this morning? Oh Cecy, I don’t want you to suffer the way you did with Anna.”

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Gabriel. I want this. I want another child.”

“Me too.”

Though few people would have guessed it, Gabriel and Cecily both absolutely adored children. Anna was their pride and joy and it’s safe to say that either would give their lives to protect her, should they have to. They also loved their nieces and nephews dearly and were always happy to babysit them. Gabriel had desperately wanted another child, but he could never ask Cecily to endure what she had once more. He had seen the toll her first pregnancy had taken on her and could never bear to see her that way again. He also felt incredibly lucky to have Anna and since the day she was born he knew if she were his only child, he could die happy. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want another.

“I would rather nine months of discomfort than always wonder what could have been. Nine months of discomfort for a lifetime of happiness.” Cecily continued, putting a hand over her belly. “I want Anna to have a sibling. We are both blessed with wonderful brothers. I want her to have the same connection.”

Gabriel put his arms around her. “I heard from Sophie that not all pregnancies are the same but I didn’t want to risk the chance that you’d have another terrible one.” He felt Cecily smile against his cheek. “But since you’re already pregnant, maybe this one won’t be as bad.” She pulled away and he got to see her beautiful smile. He loved it when Cecily smiled; she was more radiant than the brightest star. Now, she put his hand where the baby should be.

“I feel him,” she said, “I love him and I’ve only known for less than a day.”

She put her forehead against Gabriel’s and a hand on his cheek.

“Him?” He asked.

“It’s a boy. I know it.”

Gabriel looked down.

“Gabriel,” Cecily said, bringing his head up and meeting his lips in a tender kiss. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. You’re the strongest Shadowhunter I know.” Gabriel said with a smile.

…

His green eyes were dark in the absence of light, but Cecily lost herself in them enough times to know they were dazzling. He tucked her under his chin and fell back on the bed, holding her tightly.

“I love you.” Cecily whispered, half asleep. “With all my soul.”

…

“Angel have mercy on my soul!” Cecily screamed.

Child birth was worse than she remembered. Much worse. Perhaps it was because this pregnancy was not difficult as Anna’s had been. After months of pain, Anna’s birth had been a relief, almost. However, this pregnancy was almost easy, which meant that the birth… She wasn’t accustomed to pain at this magnitude.

Brother Enoch had once again come to deliver the baby, as he had done with Anna. Jem was behind him and Tessa was with Anna and James. Gabriel was patrolling which meant Cecily was alone.

“I’m going to die,” said Cecily, while she pushed.

No, you won’t.

“Yes, I will.” Cecily fell back and took heavy breaths.

You have to keep pushing.

“I’ve been pushing for the past twenty minutes.” Cecily felt like crying, if not from pain than frustration. “He’s not coming out.”

She wished she could give up. She wished she could run away to earlier this morning, where she wasn’t giving birth. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out everything. Every moment of her life blurred away so that she couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t remember anything lovely and sweet and good. All she could think was that she was going to die. The feeling seized her and dug it’s sharp, unforgiving claws into her and refused to let go. She couldn’t die. Her daughter needed her. Cecily felt her breath come shallow.

She didn’t hear him come, but she became dimly aware of Jem standing beside her. He took her hand and held it in both of his.

Push, Cecily.

She looked up at his closed eyes.

I believe in you; you’re a Herondale and you won’t give up. You’re a devoted mother, a wonderful mother and you sacrificed too much to give up. Push, Cecily.

She obeyed. She could trust her brother’s parabatai. She let out a cry in pain as she pushed again. She gasped in air, but there wasn’t enough of it. Jem squeezed her hand. She focused on breathing. If she can keep drawing one breath after another, she can push a couple more times. A couple more and her baby would be free.

At some point, there was a clanging of wood against the floor and Cecily’s other hand was clutching a warmer one. A hand was placed on her back allowing her to rest a little bit.

“That's it, Cecy. You’re doing so well.”

Cecily put her head on Gabriel’s chest in between one push and another.

She kept going and going; time had lost it’s essence and all that existed was pushing, breathing and tears, until it was finally over.

The second her baby’s cries filled the air, Cecily became boneless. Had Gabriel not been holding her, she definitely would have crashed backwards into the bed. Jem turned to go, but she squeezed his hand.

“Thank you.” She whispered. “I would probably still be giving birth if it weren’t for you.”

Jem bowed his head (which is his way of smiling) and went to help Enoch.

Gabriel kneeled beside her and whispered sweet words into her ear. He kissed her temple, then her forehead and finally brought his lips to the back of her hand. Their son hadn’t stopped crying, and though she couldn’t feel her legs, Cecily fought the urge to go to him.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Enoch placed her son on her chest.

Immediately, he stopped crying.

“Oh, no.” Cecily said, looking down at him, her eyes prickling. “Take him away before I start crying.”

Gabriel chuckled behind her and kissed her temple again.

He was beautiful. The sweetest baby she’d ever seen. His tiny fingers stretched out and flexed as though he were reaching out to Cecily. Cecily kissed his small, outstretched palms, which were impossibly soft against her lips. Her heart swelled.

You did very well, Cecily Lightwood. I’ve seen few births as difficult as that one.

“Thank you, Brother Enoch.” Cecily said.

And though only half an hour ago she could only see darkness, now she saw light. Her children live up to their family name. She held her son closer and thanked the Angel for blessing her once more.

Tagging: @hitheresomeoneusingthus @tsccreatorsnet @celias @rinadragomir @youngreckless @atla-lok143 @livia-dovehallow @autumnangel20

#cecily x gabriel #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #cecily lightwood #christopher lightwood #jem carstairs #brother zachariah #brother enoch #tsc #tsc fanfiction #tlh fanfics #tid fanfiction #gabrily fanfic #gabrily

45 notes · View notes

bidnezz · 3 years

Text

Revenant [1/5]

Pairings: Magnus/Alec, background Clary/Izzy, mentions of past Magnus/Camille

Rating: Mature

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Blood and Violence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Clave Politics (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Downworlder Politics, Betrayal, Revenge, Background Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Angry Magnus Bane, Light Romance, Mystery, Prophecy, Minor Character Death, lots of death

Summary:

Alec has heard the legends of Magnus Bane. He knows all the tales and he’s read all the records of his downfall. The High Warlock of Brooklyn who became so hungry for power that he began to mistreat the very warlocks who sought his help. It’s been a hundred years since then, and when a sudden rift opening between realms brings an onslaught of lesser demons, so too does it bring Magnus Bane, insatiable and vengeful for the power and people that locked him away in Edom. As newly appointed Head of the New York Institute, it’s Alec’s job to protect the residents of New York from one of the greatest Demons he’s ever faced. Only, he has no idea how, and maybe things aren't what they seem.

Art by the talented: @abby0007

Beta’d by the wonderful: @squiggly-lines-on-a-page

Read on ao3

Something to note: This fic is extremely AU. I've fitted a lot of events that we know to be canon (such as dates of events happening) to fit my story, and the past events happened around the early 1900's, until present canon time. There are also many mentions of blood and wounds and lots of death in the fic, so please be wary if that's a no for you!

Chapter One

Rushing residents and evening traffic fills the bustling streets of New York as the surrounding sky begins to darken with the dusk of the setting sun. Nightlife begins as shadows emerge from the alleyways, and doors that lead to no good open with the creak of bad decisions. The Downworld rises to the occasion, drinks in-hand and smiles plastered. So, too, do the Nephilim of the New York Institute who patrol the streets to keep tabs on those unknowing of the dangers that lurk in the dark.

Alexander Lightwood stands alone, weighted with shoulders heavy and nervous energy surrounding him in his new office.

Head of the Institute.

The words roll around his tongue, foreign in his mouth but synonymous with him now. It feels… odd. But welcome.

A knock brings him back, a light rapping of knuckles on the thick wooden door, followed by ebony hair and dark red lips encasing a grin that could only belong to his sister. “Alec,” she calls, her grin turning wry. “Or should I say Head of the Institute?”

“I’ve seen the position lost to better people than I, let’s not jinx this.”

“People? Yes. Leaders?” Isabelle pauses for effect as she strides towards Alec, a dramatic flair he knows to always expect. “I haven’t seen a leader yet, more deserving than you, dear brother. You can be happy for yourself, Alec. Smile, gloat, live a little. Even in the confines of this tiny room.”

Hard as he tries, Alec can’t reign in the small smile that curves his lips. He won’t gloat, he won’t yell and cheer and celebrate. That’s not him. But he will allow himself to feel pride and happiness in this small moment in time with his sister, and he’ll lock it away as a cherished memory to strengthen their bond. This is a turning point for him, a chance to uphold the Lightwood name and make his parents proud. Finally, a chance for them to see exactly the type of leader they raised, a chance to prove that it was all worth it - will be worth it. A chance for him to look upon his mother’s face and for once see something other than barely concealed disappointment and contempt.

“Hey buddy,” A low rasp calls from the opened door to the office. Jace rests against the curved door frame, arms crossed and wide smile dimpling his cheeks. “Oh,” he starts, adjusting his posture to stand perfectly upright as he offers a small salute to Alec. “I guess I should be more proper in front of our new leader, eh?”

The twinkle in his eyes and the way his smile devolves into a shit-eating grin only pulls a small chuckle from Alec, and he reaches his arm out to grip Jace’s as he’s pulled into a rough, brotherly hug. It’s warm, comforting, and when Isabelle joins in - complete.

Right here, right now… this is the turning point for Alec. No more failing, no more letting anyone down. This is where his new life as a leader begins, where everything he’s worked towards shifts into what it was always meant to be. This is what he was born for.

So then why does it feel so empty?

There's a gnawing inside of his chest, a cavern of muddled introspection and half understanding. The goal was always this, the finish line has been crossed and his direction never clearer. But under the anxiety of being freshly anointed, if Alec were to peel away the layers of doubt and worry until he’s viewing his own satisfied ego, what else would he see? Happiness, of course, to some extent. Nothing more, and nothing less. Unfulfilled pockets inside of him that yearn in wonder, and desire for something more.

A mother’s love, perhaps. To be accepted and finally seen as enough.

Yes. An affirmation from Maryse Lightwood herself, and Alec’s sure he’ll feel that last puzzle piece locked into place. ‘But for now,’ Alec thinks to himself as he watches Isabelle and Jace enraptured in a hilarious conversation no doubt at his expense, ‘I’ve got all I need right in front of me.’

With his day just beginning in the blossoming night, Alec prepares himself for the duties and responsibilities that lie ahead of him.

On the other side of New York as the darkness creeps heavier, something more sinister begins to tear at the fabric that separates their realm from the rest.

---

A chime echoes through the halls of the Institute odd hours later, only a precursor to the dull bang as the wooden doors slam open to reveal a crowd of people in disarray. Alec, bent over a table in the main hall with the city’s layout and a small group of Shadowhunters, turns at the commotion brow raised and senses on alert.

“There’s a demon!” someone in the jumbled mess of bodies hurtling towards Alec proclaims.

“He’s strong - too strong,” another one says with a gasp.

Jace steps forward, hand on the hilt of his seraph blade, the other on his stele. Prepared for battle, ready for a fight. “Where?”

Three voices begin to clamor all at once in a disastrous explanation that prompts Alec to step forward and raise a calming hand in the air. The voices stop, and Jace turns to him with a question at the ready. “One at a time or we won’t get anywhere. You,” Alec points towards the least frantic Shadowhunter of the trio, “what happened?”

The man winces as he takes a step forward, favoring the right side of his body. Red stains his clothes; it paints his pale face and each of his limbs. It’s blood, Alec notes easily, dried and congealing in some spots no doubt from the cold autumn wind on the way back to the Institute, but some of the wounds still bleed fresh. His blond hair is matted to his face with sweat and ichor and his lips are caked with a mixture of all three, none of it enough to hide the burgeoning purple bruises that are blooming on his face. If the man’s body trembles, Alec says nothing of it.

“We were patrolling near Williamsburg,” the man begins, a slow nervous lilt to his voice. “There was an unusual spike in demon activity at dusk. We overheard residents saying it was a minor earthquake, but we didn’t believe that. We suspected it was related to the demons. And it was,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to Alec and the room now filled with curious Shadowhunters. “There was a horde of them, Ravener demons. We thought it was just a basic attack, we didn’t know why they were there, but we prepared to get rid of them anyway. It was in the middle of our fight with the demons that someone else showed up-“

“Magnus Bane!” sputters the man in the middle, specks of red flying from his mouth and smattering the floor. “He’s back. He’s back and he’s here for revenge! That's what he told us!”

A gasp echoes in the silent halls of The Institute, followed by the low thrum of chatter as Shadowhunters begin to talk. To the side, Alec catches Isabelle’s gaze, stony and reserved in thought, but sparking with worry for the day’s sudden turn of events.

“Let’s get you guys cleaned up and healed,” Alec steps forward, stele in hand and iratze on his tongue.

“I-It doesn’t work,” the blond man whispers, shaking his head and peering up at Alec with furrowed brows. “We hid in the alleyways and tried to heal. Perhaps it’s the poison from the ichor, but I suspect it’s tied to the magic that Magnus Bane hit us with that makes our healing runes null.”

More chatter from the crowd of people, louder this time, and Alec nods once before turning to the person on his left. “Clary, see to it that they’re taken care of and bandaged properly. Triple check healing runes and make sure we get a full analysis report on all your findings.” It’s an order given with a tone Alec hopes conveys exactly what he’s thinking. He needs to know what’s causing the iratze’s to not work, he needs to know if it’s just a reaction to the ichor or something altogether more threatening. More than that, however, he needs discretion. Kept under wraps, with only Alec and trusted company to know the answers. With the way Clary keeps his firm gaze and offers a single, silent nod, Alec’s sure she understands.

“Everyone else,” Alec speaks, loud and commanding. “Back to your duties.”

The room pauses, wary and hesitant with the new information discovered and seeping into every conspiracy forming in the back of their minds. They want answers, they want clarity, they want knowledge that Alec doesn’t yet have. Resigned to knowing they won’t get any more than this, they file out slowly with soft whispers and bowed heads towards one another.

It’s only several seconds later when he notices the hesitation spread across the injured Shadowhunter’s faces, a look shared between the three of them. They’re brimming with the words they want to speak, information they’ve withheld, just barely. Only, they’re scared and Alec’s not sure if it’s a result of the situation they’ve just encountered, or the consequences they think they’ll have to face. Quietly, Alec steps towards them and grants a reassuring nod.

“Sir, Magnus Bane-” the Shadowhunter’s words catch in his throat. Alec hasn’t heard this name in years, not since training, and it already feels exhausted. “He didn’t let us leave with our lives for nothing. He gave us a warning.” There’s another pause, ominous in nature and the patience Alec composes himself with is waning thinner and thinner by the second.

“Go on,” Alec presses, voice carefully neutral.

“He wanted us to relay to you that this is a Downworlder affair, and for the Shadowhunters not to meddle unless they’re prepared to begin a war with Edom.”

The words come out in a single breath, rushed and trembling. He suspects it was infinitely more intimidating and terrifying than it sounds coming from three battered and bloodied Shadowhunters, but the message is clear: Don’t get involved.

“Thank you,” Alec finds himself saying, thoughts already trailing into a plan of action, mind already gearing for only two options. The first, to take an observer's role in this newfound issue of Downworld battles. The second, to raise alert to the Clave and begin to fortify the Institute for the foreseeable attack once involvement is inevitable. Or perhaps a third option is available, Alec speculates to himself.

Diplomacy.

There’s very little he knows of Magnus Bane, what scraps of information left of him are withheld in Clave documents. He’ll gather up what he can find, form a case to present to an angry, vengeful Greater Demon, and see if some sort of reasoning can be made.

With a sigh, Alec thumbs away the blooming headache from his temples and heads towards his office, doubt already sprouting up in the corners of his tenuous plans. Nothing is for certain, of course. Who’s to say Magnus Bane will be a reasonable man with the quivering display he left for Alec at the doors of the Institute. The only thing he knows for sure is that he’s going to get to the bottom of what’s going on and take care of it personally, Greater Demon or not, New York is Alec’s city now.

---

Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn for decades until his banishment to Edom at the beginning of the 1900’s, was frequently described as a hedonist. Reports on him vary from year to year. Some decades he remained under the radar, shielded from the eyes of the Clave. Others, he became notorious for begetting impish troubles between the classes. The only consistency found in any and all reports of the former High Warlock is the tendency towards extravagance and self-indulgence, with a craving for social gatherings.

Leaning back in his seat, Alec traces a finger along the case of his device and focuses on two words.

High Warlock.

He was obviously well-liked at some point in time, formidable enough to be deemed a worthy leader, and charismatic enough to be seen as an ambassador for other Warlocks. There must have been great strength at his hands, and greater support backing him to attain the level of priority that he gained.

So… what happened?

Power, clearly, and too much of it. The same Warlocks who hoisted him up petitioned to get him banished, cried his name in the streets of Brooklyn and swore his downfall.

And they made it happen.

Warlocks from all parts of New York flocked and rallied towards Brooklyn in hopes of seeing the demise of one Magnus Bane. Clave reports account for groups gathering outside of his apartment, banding together to peel away any protection shields cast up in defense. Among them, a leader: Lorenzo Rey.

The Clave watched from the shadows, vowed to not get involved in affairs they deemed less than worthy, but insisted on documenting it all. And Downworlders are the definition of unworthy in the Clave’s eyes.

There’s a nagging in the back of Alec’s mind, a wonder if anyone tried to help, tried to stop it. If there was another way.

But no, Downworlder affairs need not be meddled in, especially when Shadowhunters were never involved in the first place.

With a sigh, he sets down the reports and rubs at the bridge of his nose. What makes this situation any different? Magnus Bane threatened for Shadowhunters not to get involved. He sent a message back in the form of barely living soldiers who were just doing their duty, a message sent loud, but not so clear.

“Are you going to report this to the Clave?” Isabelle’s voice pierces through his thoughts, and Alec prides himself on only showing a fraction of surprise when he turns to face her.

“Of course I am, Izzy. It’s my duty.”

His sister peers down at him from her spot on the corner of his desk, eyes scrutinizing every emotion that flickers across his face. She doesn’t seem appeased with whatever she finds. “You can wait if you want, Alec. You can see what happens next. Try your plans first and go to the Clave later with your findings.”

Alec scoffs. “And have my position rescinded for failure to uphold the most basic understanding of status? The Clave will know everything I know, because that is what is right. They’ll know the best course of action, because they know Magnus Bane and what he’s capable of.”

Isabelle watches him for several long moments, trying to read for any hint of something to give away any of the thoughts running through Alec’s head. When she receives nothing, she nods and reaches for the handheld with the last report Alec was reading, and holds it in front of herself. She skims the words on the page, traces a slow finger from picture to picture, before settling on one that she sets down in front of Alec with a smile.

“You know, for a Greater Demon who’s here to enact his revenge on the Downworlders, he’s actually quite handsome.” Her lips pull into a smirk, and her eyes await a reaction, but Alec gives her none. He simply shrugs and locks the screen of the handheld. “He was, at least. Who knows what he looks like now after a hundred years in Edom.”

And honestly, the last thing Alec wants to focus on is the physical features of a Demon here to cause chaos. He doesn’t want to think about the picture of Magnus Bane in Clave documents, drink in hand and that perfectly tailored suit fitting his body, smiling at the photographer with his dark-rimmed eyes. It doesn’t matter what Magnus Bane looked like then, or even now. The only thing that matters now is the information he’s managed to scrounge up from every instance of this Demon’s name in Clave history, and how he can use that knowledge to his advantage.

Magnus Bane was cunning, sneaky, and smart in the early 1900’s. He was dangerous then, and Alec’s not going to believe that Edom did anything but magnify that danger after a century of letting his anger fester.

---

Moonlight spills through the windows, casts soft light along the path Alex takes as he makes his way, resigned, towards the infirmary.

The halls of the Institute are sparse with Shadowhunters now gathered in the training hall and library in hopes of strengthening themselves for whatever battle they foresee coming. It’s all for naught, Alec thinks to himself as he recounts the lackluster conversation that transpired between him and his parents just an hour ago, accompanied by Inquisitor Herondale.

“You’re to remain on the outside and cease any and all involvement in these Downworlder... squabbles.” Herondale’s voice had cut sharp and left no room for questions. Squabbles. That’s the extent that the Clave had watered this threat down to. A Greater Demon, capable of stripping away their ability to heal without the use of mundane technology. A Downworld squabble.

“Alec,” his mother’s stern voice had cut in, low and severe, “you need to make it absolutely clear to everyone that they are not to expose themselves to any fight that Magnus Bane chooses to partake in. Any patrolling Shadowhunters are there for one reason, and one reason only. To observe and record.”

Yes, to observe and record. To keep an account of what happened for Clave history. More ammunition for Shadowhunters to keep themselves separated from Downworlders, and information to add to the files of warlocks the Clave already suspects are dangerous. Fuel to the fire, all wrapped up in the innocent guise of history.

It doesn’t sit well with Alec, being a bystander to the havoc a furious Greater Demon might cause. The Clave won’t step in, they won’t be a helping hand in all of this, and Alec hates to sit on the sidelines of what could possibly be the worst decision in the history of the Accords.

But the Clave has the final say on any Shadowhunter involvement in Downworld affairs. The Clave is every bit as responsible as Alec for whatever presides in Brooklyn in the coming days. The Clave doesn’t want to stop Magnus Bane, so why should Alec?

Alec’s fingers wrap around the cool metal of the door handle when he remembers his mother’s face, the expression she wore so unabashedly in front of him. Disappointment so thinly veiled underneath all of that carefully crafted apathy. Disappointment for the way Alec offered his solutions to Inquisitor Herondale? Disappointment in the way Alec questioned the motives of the Clave for hiding in the background when they could find an alternative to be part of the solution? Disappointment in Alec, for becoming Head of the Institute, clearly unprepared and unwelcome by even his own mother?

The smile that graced his mother’s features when he first saw her had been enough for the newly awakened pride inside of him, seeking the tiniest shred of affirmation from his harshest critic. How short-lived it was. How quickly had that pride deflated into embarrassment when he began to speak of the attack from Magnus Bane and his mother’s eye shrouded themselves in disapproval.

Perhaps he could have done something differently today. He could have proceeded with a different plan of action that would have appeased Herondale’s thirst for non-consequential knowledge, if he had only known. But now he does, and though redemption is not far off, it’s going to be an uphill battle.

He’ll do better.

With a steadying breath, Alec pushes open the wooden doors to the infirmary and steps in.

There’s the distinct sterile scent of Iodine, and far more lines of IV that are hooked up than Alec is used to seeing. They’re a back up, mostly, for when an iratze isn’t enough, or the wounds are too infected with ichor to properly heal, but even then…

The click-clack of heels on tile brings his focus to the lithe redhead who steps towards him with pursed lips and a furrowed brow.

“It’s not the ichor,” Clary begins, wasting no time. She’s worked with Alec long enough to know he doesn’t think highly of beating around the bush or dawdling. “I was able to analyze the blood samples enough that I could detect a magical signature on all of them. Bane, of course, but it seems that the magic is keeping the wounds from healing. They’re not re-opening, so to speak, but they aren’t clotting and the stitches I’ve made don’t seem to be helping the process either. They just,” Clary inhales a deep sigh, and expels a shaky breath. “They just bleed. Not enough to drain them completely, but enough to cause substantial blood loss. With how much they’ve already lost and how much more they’re going to lose, they’re going to need several transfusions just to stay alive.”

Alec turns to face one of the Shadowhunters laying on the cold, white bed. There are bandages around his arms, patches of gauze scattered across his body and face and butterfly bandages to keep small wounds closed. But for every bandage, for every strip of white, there’s red that blots it. Small beads of blood that pool at each line of cuts until they brim over and cascade in a slow and steady spill of red that stains the sheets beneath.

Three Shadowhunters in critical care, while not a huge blow, only paves the way for bigger hits in the future if Alec chooses to stand in the way of Magnus Bane. It’s not a risk he’s willing to take, to bet it all on the unknown, to subject the very same people who put him in this position to the torturous death sentence of blood loss.

“What are we going to do, Alec?”

Clary’s voice is soft when she speaks, uncertainty replacing the confidence and assertion he’s so used to hearing. Yes, three Shadowhunters isn’t a big loss, but it’s an omen chilling enough that he doesn’t want to cause panic and worry within the Institute.

“We stay quiet about this. If anyone asks, the ichor and magic is causing a unique reaction that you’re working on a remedy for. They’ll be fine.”

They’ll be fine.

Even to himself, Alec sounds scared.

“Maybe we need to find Magnus Bane, we could talk to him and ask - “

“Ask what?” Alec snaps his attention towards Clary, who frowns up at him.

With a calculated pause, she surveys the room’s occupants. “We can ask him what he’s here for, what he’s trying to gain from this.”

“He wants whoever sealed him away in Edom to pay.”

Clary’s brows crinkle together, and her eyes focus as she undoubtedly tries to recollect any information on Magnus Bane she’s heard of over the years. There’s not much to remember, not much spoken through word of mouth besides cautionary tales and warnings on why Downworlders must always be watched. The real meat of the situation is hidden in the files of cases over the years. Cases that litter Alec’s desk, pages of text that have been ingrained into his mind.

“Maybe we could help him,” She offers, timidly.

“Help him?”

“I know it sounds crazy, us helping a Greater Demon,” Clary begins. “We work on keeping the Downworld in order so to speak, right? We make sure that danger doesn't seep through into mundane territory, and so far it is. We can seek out Magnus Bane, see why he’s after these people, who they are, and what he’s trying to achieve. Maybe… Maybe helping him will bring more peace than leaving him to his own devices.”

Clary’s not wrong, at least to Alec she isn’t. It’s the better option, to help Magnus Bane with whatever mission he’s steering towards so he can be done with it. Get him out of the way before it becomes a bigger issue with the Clave.

But the Clave.

“The Inquisitor doesn’t want that,” Alec explains tersely.

Clary rolls her eyes and wears a common expression of distaste so many around him always do when the Clave is involved. “They aren’t here, Alec. The Clave only cares about the Law, with no regard to how it actually applies to all of our lives in the Institute. You’re our leader now. I understand you report back to the Clave, but they don’t have to know. At least not yet.”

It’s a temptation Alec won’t entertain for longer than a brief second. Going against the Clave is not an option. They’ve been given orders, and he’ll make sure they follow them.

“We will not go-“

Alec’s words are interrupted by the high-pitched ringing of his phone that he answers immediately.

“Isabelle?”

“Alec,” There’s a loud crash that crackles through the receiver of the phone that instantly sets him on high alert. “Alec, he’s here. Magnus Bane, he’s come to Hotel DuMort with an army of demons. You need to come!”

“Hotel DuMort? What are you even doing there, Isabelle? You were told to stay out of this, you shouldn’t be anywhere near other Downworlders with Magnus Bane around!”

“Jace and I came to -“

There’s silence as the phone loses connection, and Alec can’t help the involuntary reaction of slamming his empty fist into one of the unoccupied beds of the infirmary. “Fuck,” he spits out, before shoving the phone into his pocket and making his way towards the door.

“I’m coming with you,” Clary shouts as she rushes to his side.

“You will stay here and stick to the plan, Morgenstern,” Alec grits through his teeth.

“There is no plan, Alec! I’m not going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs, giving people false hope when I can go with you and help.”

A moment of silence. A moment where Alec feels the heavy thud of his heartbeat in the palms of his hand where his fists are balled so tightly, before he exits the infirmary in quiet anger with Clary trailing behind him.

---

There are screeches and screams that surround the Hotel DuMort as Alec and Clary gather closer. To mundanes, only quiet calm and the sounds of cars honking with idle engines fill the late night streets, but behind the screen of blissful oblivion lies something much darker, something far more inauspicious.

Sparks of red shoot from one of the top floor windows, and Alec and Clary dodge the shards of glass that sprinkle down on them as they search for an entrance. Magic enchants the walls and tingles against Alec’s hand as he pushes through one of the side entrances not blocked off with deadbolts and hanging locks. It would be almost too easy for any mundane to just waltz in, and he’s sure under different circumstances this would be a red-flag for Hotel DuMort’s compliance with the Accords to be taken into question.

The room inside is dark and empty at first glance, but a gasp from Clary and the tip of his boots hitting something raised against the floor shows him that they’re not alone.

A handful of lifeless bodies litter the floor in front of them, surrounded by darkness and sparks of electricity from the light sources that have been shot out and electrical wires exposed. Vampires. Demons. Nothing left alive.

It makes the fear of Jace and his sister being one of these figures all the more real, and he finds the weight of his feet carrying him faster towards the staircase door. Logically, he knows that’s not the case. He’d feel it through their bond if something happened to his parabatai, and he knows that Jace would throw himself into the line of fire first before he let anything happen to Isabelle. With Clary hot on his trail they race up the stairs, stamina and speed rune lighting up and fading quickly with the wave of their steles. It’s only a few quick minutes before they’re paused at the door to the 7th floor, only stopped by the body of a dead vampire blocking the entrance from the other side. With a grunt and a shove, Alec pushes the door open and they step through into a fight that’s already begun.

The sight of vampires greet them; teeth bared, claws sharp and blades in hand fighting off the demons that surround them, ash covering the floor they fight ont. Clary whispers his name, but he doesn’t turn to her, focused critically on the threats in front of them. Alec takes one step forward, close enough to the nearest vampire that he can almost get a word in, before he’s swiped at suddenly by a Ravener demon.

He dodges the first attack with several hurried paces back and reaches for an arrow from his quiver, before the demon fizzles out before his eyes. The final blow in question is dealt by Clary, who heaves a breath and grins at Alec as she pulls her seraph blade back from the fading particles of the dying demon. It’s one miniscule victory short-lived, however, because in its place pour in three more from the broken windows that line the walls. Alec nocks an arrow into his bow quickly and chances a glance towards Clary out of the corner of his eye, who curls her lips back in a grimace and readies for a fight.

Together, they take them out. One after another, an onslaught of demons rush and growl and shriek in attack. None of them get close enough to injure, though all of them try, and it’s not until the remaining few pull back and crawl through the windows that Alec realizes they’re not retreating for the sake of defeat.

“Upstairs,” Alec breathes, ragged. “Isabelle and Jace must be upstairs.”

“The demons are no-doubt being called back by Magnus Bane. We need to get up there.”

A hiss from the side catches their attention, a wounded vampire covered in blood and ichor. “Going up there is a death sentence. Your other Shadowhunters were already doomed before they’d even reach the top floor..”

There’s only a brief look of worry shared between them, before Clary and Alec are racing up the next staircase in search of Isabelle and Jace. Jace isn’t dead, he knows for a fact, but the possibility of Isabelle being injured fuels him up the next flights of stairs that tug at his parabatai bond. They’re close, he can feel Jace and the feelings being pushed through the bond right now. Confusion, anger, worry… Fear.

Fear of Magnus Bane?

They’re close, so close now, and Alec knows he’ll finally get answers to all of the questions and worries pouring through their minds as he and Clary push through that final door that leads them to the top floor of Hotel DuMort.

Relief overcomes him, spreads warmth through his body as he sees the golden blond of Jace’s hair, and his sister right beside him across the room. But it’s replaced, almost immediately, when he spots the scene that surrounds them.

In the middle of the room are two figures, Camille Belcourt who Alec knows to be the leader of the Brooklyn Vampire Clan, and someone he can only presume to be Magnus Bane.The pair of them ensconced in a circle of high red flames that prevent anyone from leaving or entering. There’s a conversation happening inside of it, screaming and yelling from Camille that Alec can’t hear through the roar and heat of fire, and wild gestures from Magnus Bane, whose back is turned to he and Clary.

Scattered around the room are clusters of vampires fighting off the unending horde of demons, unsuccessful in their endeavors. Jace and Isabelle are with them, the crack of his sister’s whip snapping louder than the crackling of fire that licks at Alec as he steps nearer. There’s no way around the fire, no way for them to get any closer even as he and Clary fight their way through the demons rushing towards them.

So they fight, continuously with only precious seconds in between each attack for them to catch their breath and gather their strength, but Alec doesn’t tire as the ichor mingles with the sweat soaking his clothes and coating his skin. He won’t give up until he finds a way to Isabelle and Jace, and he’ll die trying if he has to.

Another demon jumps at him, and this one catches Alec at an angle that his arrow can’t quite reach in time. The knowledge of being cut hits first, followed shortly after by the pain in his shoulder. It stings and burns, not from the fire, but from the magic laced and infused deeply within the demons themselves.

It’s a minor inconvenience, he tells himself as he reaches for the seraph blade holstered to his thigh and jabs it into the back of the demon as he dodges a second attack. It hurts, but it’s nothing he can’t stand, nothing an iratze won’t heal.

It’s a lie he knows to be true. He can feel the magic tingling against his skin where the blood begins to seep from the shallow wound. He’ll be fine for now, at least long enough to get them out of the building and back into the safety of the Institute.

A grunt beside him brings him back into the fight and he turns to see Clary swing her weapon into the skull of the demon closest to her, while kicking another into the fire beside her that consumes the demon with a sizzling crack. It’s almost more effective to use the fire to their advantage, Alec realizes as he and Clary share a knowing look. They change tactics quickly, rushing towards the demons from the outskirts of the room, boots thudding heavily against the hardened exoskeleton of the demons as they rush towards them. The vampires nearby take note, exhausted and battered far more than the two of them, and begin to follow suit.

It’s not long before the flocks of demons that pour into the room fade into a more sparse area of coverage and everyone involved in the small battle can take longer than a moment's breath.

Whispers and speculation fill the silence when only a few demons are left remaining, being fought off by courageous vampires with a sudden need to direct their adrenaline. In the middle of the room the fire howls fiercer, brighter and hotter as Camille and Magnus continue to occupy the center, closer than ever to each other.

There’s discourse, still an argument being had if the curl of the Magnus’ fist and Camille’s bared teeth are anything to go off of. It’s still too loud to hear the topic at hand, something unsettling and stormy brewing between the two, but then suddenly something shifts in Camille’s incensed demeanor.

It’s as if a switch has flipped, as if the anger has evaporated with the heat of the flames, and left in its place a barrage of tears that trickle down her face. She’s frustrated, Alec can see it in the square of her shoulders, but she’s given up the fight to Magnus. Part of him knows it’s not his place to care about the outcome of the events that are unfolding before them, that he has other more pressing matters at hand, such as getting to Jace and Isabelle. But the flames don’t give an inch of slack, and the path to them is blocked almost entirely by dead bodies and debris.

A pale hand reaches up, contrasting shockingly to the deep tan of Magnus’ cheek where it rests, color that Alec can see isn’t just the result of the shadows from the fire. From Alec’s spot behind Magnus, he can’t see the expression he wears or the effect this gesture has on him. What he can see, though, is the tense of his back through the black blazer that fits his body, and the way he straightens out the length of himself when presented with the vulnerability of Camille.

And Camille, for all her false innocence and shrewd manner over the years, seems genuine for once.

With rapt attention, Alec watches every step closer she takes.He can feel rather than hear the staccato click of her heels along the marble floor for every inch of distance she closes. He should look away, he thinks in a moment of polite weakness.

But, no.

This is a deliberate display, a show the two of them are putting on for any Downworlder, Shadowhunter, or Mundane who will watch. And so he does.

He watches, enraptured, as Camille raises herself onto the balls of her feet, black stilettos lifting and pale arms encircling the strong shoulders of the Greater Demon before her. He watches still, as the bright red lipstick that stains her lips also colors Magnus’ cheek and smears against their skin when she ducks her head into the junction of his neck. It’s almost too intimate for him to continue watching, the moment surely too much for them to all be allowed to partake in. It feels sinful, in a way. Alec almost averts his eyes, guiltily casting his gaze downward, when he catches Magnus’ hand reflecting back to him the brightest flames through the rings that adorn the fingers curling into the dark long locks of Camille’s hair.

Most importantly, in his bashfully thorough scrutiny of the scene before him, he watches Magnus’ other hand, unnoticed and dim in the shadows of their two bodies. A hand that ignites a soft blue nearly unseen through the fire, magic that produces a wooden stake to spear straight into the unsuspecting heart laid out before him.

A gasp, a lungful of staggered breathing fills Camille as she cries out in the same silent shock Alec feels vibrating through him. Her body, lithe and slender and her deep burgundy dress darken with color as she twitches and fades before them into slow settling ash on the floor, graceful and beautiful in ways that only the leader of the New York vampire clan could manage. But Alec pays her no mind as her memory slips lower beneath the line of his vision, all the while his eyes remain steadfast on the Demon before him. On Magnus Bane.

The fire lets up minutes later, and the surviving vampires rush towards Camille with their inhuman speed, crying and bemoaning the loss of their leader with wails that echo in the silence now befalling the room. There’s a tug in the pit of his stomach, a pull that he recognizes clearly as his parabatai bond. He should follow it to Jace, to Isabelle and undoubtedly Clary who is likely already with them. He knows, logically, what he should do now. He knows what’s expected of him, and he knows what’s right. And yet…

Now that he knows for certain his siblings are safe, there are more important matters at hand. Like the fact that Magnus Bane now stands in front of him, piercing Alec with golden eyes and the hardened exterior of a Greater Demon who shows no remorse for having just killed someone.

Time seems to move slowly as Magnus lifts a hand and summons a portal, an endless swirl of darkness that will release him from the destruction he’s leaving behind, that will take him further from the answers Alec seeks. Magnus turns then, takes one step into the void and the flow of time accelerates so quickly that in that instant Alec doesn’t realize he’s stepping through the portal with him until the roar of magic deafens him to the sounds of his sister’s call.

#shmb2021 #shadowhunters #malec #malec fanfiction #Magnus x Alec #magnus bane #alec lightwood

2 notes · View notes

bytheangell · 3 years

Text

Love Me When It Hurts (3/3, complete!)

Chapter Three: Saying Yes Instead of No ( @shadowhunterbingo square: Getting Back Together) (Jimon to Raphael/Jace/Simon, Rated Teen, No Major Archive Warnings) (Read on AO3) (Read Chapter 1+2 Here) -------------

“I’ll kill him,” Raphael offers, not for the first time. In fact, this had to be nearing the double-digits in the number of times Raphael has offered - or threatened - to kill Jace Herondale since Simon returned with a face streaked with tears.

“It’s my fault,” Simon says, also for a time nearing the double-digits. “Just let it go. We need to be able to work with them if we have to.”

“No, you need to be able to talk to that foolish Shadowhunter and make him see sense,” Raphael insists.

“Why do you even care?” Simon asks.

Raphael considers admitting that he hates seeing Simon upset. He thinks of the guilt he feels because, even though Jace is obviously completely off base about Simon’s feelings, he isn’t so far away from Raphael’s. Perhaps Raphael let his affection for Simon show a bit too much around the Shadowhunter. If Raphael was inadvertently the reason that Jace and Simon broke up, then he would advertently be the reason they got back together.

He knows what he has to do, and he knows that he’s going to hate every second of it.

“Because I can’t have you moping around the Dumort for the rest of our very, very long lives,” Raphael says finally. “Or so upset you’re going to do something foolish.”

Simon sighs. “I know Jace told you to look out for me, but he clearly doesn’t care anymore, so you really don’t have to follow through.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “As if I would do anything simply because a Shadowhunter told me to. I’m looking out for you because I want to.”

“And what if I don’t want you to?” Simon asks, and Raphael does his best not to let the words sting. Simon’s upset, he’s trying to push him away. It isn’t going to work.

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you, because I doubt you can stop me,” Raphael points out.

This gets a small laugh from Simon, which is progress. He’ll take it.

---

“Why are we in Central Park?” Jace asks warily, glancing around. “If you’re setting me up for a vampire ambush just know that if I don’t check in with Alec every 15 minutes he’s sending backup.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. He’s doing so much more of that lately.

“Because it’s a neutral location. Simon isn’t comfortable at the Institute right now, you’re not thrilled about seeing him at the Dumort, so a neutral middle ground leaves everyone on the same level,” Raphael explains.

“That… makes sense, I guess,” Simon admits.

“Negotiation tactics don’t just apply in times of war,” Raphael points out.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Jace says, growing immediately defensive.

“Isn’t it?” Raphael asks. “Two arguing sides that don’t fully understand the other, a need to find common ground and come to a proper resolution? Sounds like a negotiation to me.”

“So what are the proposed terms?” Jace asks, and Raphael watches as he slips easily into his Nephilim soldier mindset to negotiate.

“That’s for the two of you to decide. I just wanted to make sure both of you could meet without throwing daggers on sight. You won’t kill one another if I leave now, will you?” Raphael asks.

Jace and Simon share hesitant (but hopeful) glances before they each nod and Raphael turns to leave.

“Call me if you need anything, Simon. I won’t be far,” Raphael whispers into Simon’s ear as he passes. If Jace still thinks there’s something between him and Simon it likely wouldn’t do for Raphael to broadcast lingering about for Simon’s sake.

Then, with an unfamiliar ache in his chest, Raphael forces himself to walk away.

---

Raphael doesn’t expect to grow fond of Jace as well over the weeks that follow, but that’s exactly what happens. The more Jace and Simon start to fall into a new rhythm, start to find a balance they can be together in again, the more Raphael can see the little ways Jace shows just how much he still cares about Simon, even during the times they’re still technically broken up.

Raphael does what he can - without Simon knowing he’s meddling too much - to remind Jace that Simon is still Jace’s Simon, even if he isn’t a Shadowhunter anymore.

“He talks about you every time we have movie marathons. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it, but he brings up your favorite characters and reactions all the time,” Raphael tells Jace one day while he waits for Simon in the entryway of the Dumort.

“You have movie marathons with Si?” Jace asks, eyebrow raised.

Raphael shrugs. “Sure. It’s something he enjoys, and I’m certain it isn’t surprising he’s needed a little extra comfort lately.”

Raphael watching them isn’t the point, but he doesn’t have time to decipher the strange look on Jace’s face before Simon finally comes rushing in, apologizing for running late, and the two of them leave.

There are more little moments like that. Moments when Raphael finds himself alone with Jace, or the three of them spend time together. Many of those moments are because part of Jace and Simon’s discussions have been about Jace accepting the vampire side of Simon now, which includes accepting Raphael’s and the Brooklyn Clan’s roles in his life. Raphael doesn’t stop to think about how it might come across to bond with Jace over Simon, how much he’s betraying his own feelings by how hard he’s working towards Simon and Jace’s happiness.

Befriending Jace, once they’re no longer actively pit against one another, is surprisingly easy. It’s easier still the more they talk and can read each other better - it doesn’t take long for them to learn where the lines in their individual brands of sarcastic senses of humor need to be drawn. As much as Jace and Simon are rediscovering how they fit together, Raphael begins to seamlessly fit in along with them... and soon, being friendly with Jace for Simon’s sake shifts into simply being friends with Jace.

Which shifts into something more. It’s subtle enough that Raphael doesn’t notice it happening until it’s already done - he cares about Jace. He cares about Jace’s happiness, and not just in relation to Simon’s, but independently. Raphael isn’t sure when he starts to know Jace almost as well as he knows Simon, but he’s sure of the moment he realizes it: it’s the day he starts to keep a bit of human food and drinks in their refrigerator units for Jace that he knows Jace likes. Things he knows Jace likes, not because Simon told him at some point, but because he simply knows. At some point, Jace’s personal preferences (which are now common knowledge to Raphael) became things he prioritized committing to memory.

At some point, Jace became a priority. Raphael tries very, very hard to push that revelation back into the recesses of his mind for all the good it’ll do him.

Raphael tells himself he’s imagining things when Jace seems to show a deeper interest in him as well - things like showing up with a movie for them to watch by a director Raphael mentioned enjoying once before, or picking up bits of Spanish to pepper into conversations knowing Raphael’s fluent and enjoys the reminder of home sometimes. They’re friends. These are things that friends do... not that Raphael would really know, seeing as he can count the number of proper ‘friends’ he’s had on one hand.

On a night Raphael knows Simon has a date with Jace (because it’s all Simon’s been able to talk about for hours), Jace arrives early and Raphael doesn’t hesitate to open the door and invite him in to wait.

“Simon’s not ready yet, but I’ll tell him you’re early-” “Actually,” Jace cuts him off. “I wanted to ask you something first.”

“Alright,” Raphael says. He’s not uncomfortable around Jace, not anymore, but there’s something in Jace’s expression that puts him on edge.

“Why did you do all of this? You could’ve had Simon to yourself - he wouldn’t be split between me and the clan. That had to be easier than taking us through the baby-steps of figuring out how to make up,” Jace points out, and Raphael says nothing because it’s true. His life would’ve been much simpler if he simply let Simon deal with his heartbreak and went on with his fledgling training. “So why did you do all of this?”

Raphael hesitates. He knows why - he knows exactly why. The temptation to lie is strong, to say something clever and subtle to side-step the truth and give Jace a passable answer, but as well as Raphael knows Jace now, he’s afraid Jace has grown to know him just as well. And if Jace came early to get an answer to this question he likely won’t accept Raphael’s usual witty deflection.

“Because so many of us lose who we were after we’re turned,” Raphael admits. “We can’t reconcile our old lives with what we’ve become, and we turn into the monsters others perceive us as. But Simon… Simon cares so much. About you, about his friends and family, about his passions and hobbies. I didn’t want to see him lose that because he lost you. You had to understand he was still Simon so he could believe it, too.”

“You didn’t even know me,” Jace points out. “And what you did know of me was an ass.”

Raphael gives Jace a smile tinged with sadness. “But I knew Simon - enough to know he wouldn’t care so much about someone who wasn’t worth it, Shadowhunter or not. Yes, at first it was about making Simon happy, but then I got to know you, too. You’re a good person, Jace. You both deserve happiness.”

Jace’s eyes move to something behind Raphael, and he turns quickly to see a wide-eyed Simon walking up behind him. How much of that did he hear? And how much of what Raphael truly feels seeped into every heartfelt word he never should’ve risked saying out loud?

“I should go. Enjoy your date,” Raphael says before either of them can say anything, and vanishes from sight.

---

Raphael can’t avoid Simon, no matter how much he wants to. He makes a valiant effort of it most of the day after Simon gets back from his date - he knows he said too much, that even if Simon didn’t overhear it surely Jace told him. He let his emotions get the better of him, just for a second, but a second is all that it takes. Raphael tells himself repeatedly that this was always the plan - for Simon and Jace to reconnect - and that once they did obviously he wouldn’t need to be the awkward third wheel around them any longer.

“Raphael?” Simon’s voice sounds at the door. “We need to talk.”

Raphael opens the door with a heavy sigh. “Please, spare me the faux-breakup speech and just move back to your Institute.”

“What?” Simon says. “I”m not doing that. Why would I do that?”

“Because I crossed a line, and I’m very aware of it, so if you could spare me the lecture I’d appreciate it,” Raphael says.

“There’s no line to cross. There’s like, this big, gaping circle that we’re all in. At least, I hope we’re all in it,” Simon starts to rumble, except literally none of what he just said makes any sense.

“...what?”

“Sorry, the line comment threw me off. I had a whole thing prepared before,” Simon admits, looking sheepish. “Okay. Let me start over. Jace and I were talking, and we’re ready to officially be boyfriends again.”

“That’s great,” Raphael says, trying to sound as happy as he should for Simon. This was always the goal, he reminds himself again, and again, and again.

“And we’d like to know if you wanted to try and make something work between the three of us,” Simon continues, each word carefully chosen and obviously practiced. Simon wasn’t kidding about that.

“...what?” Raphael says again, but with a new tone of disbelief replacing his previous confusion.

“I know you’re like 100 years old or whatever, but there’s this thing called polyamory, and people these days are much more-”

“I know what a polyamorous relationship is,” Raphael clarifies.

“Oh, cool. Wait, not cool. Does that mean you don’t like the idea?” Simon fidgets. “Because we were talking about it and we really thought we read into this whole thing right, but if we didn’t this is going to get super awkward.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it,” Raphael is quick to admit. “It just caught me off guard. I expected you and Jace to reconcile and run off into the night together.”

“So did I, for a little while. But Jace was right before - I liked you, back when you first took me in. I wasn’t going to do anything about it, but it was there. And it still is. And Jace…”

Raphael arches an eyebrow. “And Jace?”

“He likes you, too. He likes how much you care about me, and he likes that you’ll be sarcastic with him, and how close you two have gotten the past few weeks, and then today when you told him he deserved to be happy…” Simon trails off for a moment. “Well, we both realized we’ve been happier with you around, too, and hoped that you felt the same.”

Raphael stands in stunned silence, searching Simon’s face, staring with a steady, unblinking gaze into his eyes to make sure that Simon means what he’s saying. He’d thought, maybe even hoped at the start, that he saw what Simon said about his own feelings. But he didn’t dare to even consider the possibility of Jace liking him back as well.

Of both of them wanting to be with him, the way he slowly realized he wished he could be with them after all these weeks.

“Jace thought it might seem less like we were trying to gang up on you if I came alone, but if you want to talk with him first he’s outside,” Simon adds. “And if you don’t want any of it just tell me. I swear we won’t let it ruin our friendship-”

Raphael tries to push through how overwhelmed he feels by all of this, because if he doesn’t say anything Simon will likely ramble his way into backing out of the offer altogether, and that’s the last thing Raphael wants.

The first thing Raphael wants, the only thing, the thing he never imagined he’d get to have a chance at, is being offered to him on a silver platter right now, and he’d be a fool not to take a chance at it.

“Okay,” he says finally. “I do want to talk to Jace, I think the three of us have quite a bit of talking to do from the sounds of it, but… yes. I’d like to see where it goes.”

“Whew,” Simon says in exaggerated relief. “Because honestly, at this point I think things would feel weird if they weren't there three of us. Let me go get Jace!”

With that Simon disappears back out of the room at full vampire speed, leaving Raphael smiling after him. Simon’s right, and the honesty of that simple statement strikes Raphael more than anything else Simon said before.

The three of them do feel good, they feel right, and Raphael is more than happy to see how much better their time together can be moving forward.

#raphael santiago #jace herondale #simon lewis #rjs #raphael x jace x simon #shadowhunters #hmdiscord #shadowhuntersbingo #I FINISHED THE THING #this was a really fun plot to explore and so many thanks to Toby for letting me play with it! <3 #i love these three idiots with all of my heart and soul #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

15 notes · View notes

silver-lily-louise · 4 years

Text

Novelty

‘You come in here, with your brand-new magic and your flirting – what, like you care about me? Like I’m not just the blink of an eye, now that you’ve got your magic back? Now that you’ve got centuries again?’ Magnus risks letting out a tendril of magic, resisting the urge to groan at what he finds - because he’s a damned idiot, and this time, it might just get him killed.

Set between 3x14 and 3x15. Magnus pays Alec a visit during a very bad day at the office. (Slight non-con warning: see AO3 notes for details.)

Read it on AO3, or below!

~oOo~

The fire message from Alexander is unexpected, but welcome, and Magnus smiles as he puts down his book of Tennyson poetry. ‘Apologies, Chairman,’ he says, moving the cat off his lap and rolling his eyes at the complaining mroww he gets, as if Magnus has just dropped him fifty feet onto concrete instead of moving him a matter of inches onto the other couch cushion so that he can swing his legs around and stand up. ‘Yes, all right. Take it up with the one who summoned me.’

He twists his arm in his usual flourish – ignoring the brief throb of a headache, it’s fine, it’s an adjustment period is all – and steps through the portal, straight from Alec’s bedroom and into his office. ‘Well, this is a lovely surprise,’ he purrs, walking over and looping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. ‘Did you need something? I wasn’t expecting to see you until dinner time.’

‘No, I’m on a coffee break and just wanted to see you – I wasn’t expecting you to portal over here so quickly,’ Alec says mildly. ‘Didn’t fancy the walk?’ ‘Says the man who sent a fire message from one side of the Institute to the other,’ Magnus teases. ‘Besides, what’s the point of having magic if you don’t use it?’ He steps forward, until the warmth of Alec’s chest against his can chase away the nagging anxiety in his lungs, can quell the rebellious spark that he knows has made him more magic-dependent in the last few days, after spending far too long feeling so weak without it. ‘And for another thing,’ he says, snapping his fingers with a smirk, the lock on the office door audibly clicking. ‘What was it you said the other day about enjoying every moment?’

‘Right,’ Alec says – and he looks a little distracted, but before Magnus can worry too much about that their lips are suddenly together, and he mentally shrugs, waving it off as telegraphed intention and closing his eyes, leaning into the kiss with a pleased hum. Alec walks them across the room, Magnus stepping backwards trustingly, assuming that they’re heading over to the small couch for a comfortable place to sit – And immediately being proved wrong as Alexander pulls away from the kiss, Magnus’ eyes flying open in confusion and displeasure. ‘Alexander, is something wrong?’ he asks, stepping forward –

And stumbling as he runs into an invisible wall.

He looks down at his feet, the outlines of a now-activated containment circle glowing a faint red, and his heart sinks even as he looks back up at Alec, a thread of anger pulling his expression taut and controlled. ‘Alec, what the fuck-‘ ‘Quiet,’ Alec growls – and Magnus obliges, because if he talks again it might move his adam’s apple further into the seraph blade that’s suddenly pointed at it. ‘You come in here, with your brand-new magic and your flirting – what, like you care about me?’ Alec huffs an unimpressed laugh, and Magnus’ stomach turns because something is horribly, horribly wrong. ‘Like I’m not just the blink of an eye, now that you’ve got your magic back? Now that you’ve got centuries again?’

He turns away, stalking around the circle – and Magnus risks letting out a tendril of magic, resisting the urge to groan at what he finds because he’s a damned idiot, and this time, it might just get him killed. Because this isn’t Alec, and if he’d walked in here with his own magic instead of the sorry, half-fitting replacement Lorenzo gave him, he’d likely have known it the second he walked in. Now that he’s actively looking for it, the brief trail of possession in the air is almost painfully obvious.

He swallows, trying to keep himself calm. Stall. ‘That’s not true,’ he insists, warily keeping to the opposite side of the circle from Alec, as far away as he can get in the limited space. ‘And if you were yourself right now, you’d know that. I love you, Alexander.’ ‘No!’ – and there’s the seraph blade at his throat again, flickering a little rosily with the demon’s influence, and Magnus has the bizarre thought that this is what comes of dating someone so tall because Alec doesn’t even have to step into the trap to reach him, can stay outside of the circle and remain invulnerable to Magnus’ magic. Alec’s expression crumples, and if the situation were different, it would twist Magnus’ heart to see. ‘Am I even gonna go in your box?’ Alec whispers. ‘Why would I? A Shadowhunter, a descendant of the Circle; someone who’s fucked up at every damn opportunity and cost you everything, more than once.’ He laughs, and it’s a broken, mangled thing, his blade shaking as he withdraws it once again. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. This isn’t real, is it? That’s why you haven’t called it off – because it doesn’t matter, because it’s not a relationship. I’m just something for you to play with until the novelty wears off – in a decade or two, if I’m lucky.’ His eyes harden, his posture turning stiff and angry. ‘Well, you know what? I’m done with it. I’m done letting you use me like that.’

‘That’s not true,’ Magnus says again, well-aware that he sounds a little desperate now but fuck it, he’s losing him – and with a silenced, locked door between him and help, and Magnus’ new seed of magic still too weak to break out of this trap, talking’s the only that might, maybe, get them both out of this. ‘Alexander, please. Listen to me.’ He keeps his voice encouraging, gentle – he’s not afraid to be on the verge of begging, if that’s what it takes. ‘You’re not a novelty. You’re not just something to pass the time. Think about it for a moment; we’d only just had our first kiss, and when Valentine’s men descended, I surrendered, because I couldn’t bear to see you hurt. Or how about when your soul got lost in the parabatai bond, before we’d even had our first date?’ Alec’s looking at him again, now, and Magnus steps forward a little, encouraged. ‘You must remember me saying how Raj tried to stop me, tried to make me leave? I attacked him, Alexander. I might have killed him if I had to, because all I wanted was for you to be safe.’

He smiles, not fighting the tears that spring to his eyes, because gods, if he screws this up, he’s dead and Alec won’t be much better off, devastated by a guilt and a grief Magnus knows intimately and wouldn’t wish on anyone, let alone his Alexander. ‘Whatever that voice in your head is telling you, Alexander, it isn’t real,’ he implores. ‘This is real. We are real. I haven’t stood by you throughout our hardships because you’re temporary, I’ve done it because I love you.’ He lets out a long, shuddering breath, forcing himself to open his arms in a gesture of trust, of welcome. ‘Please, Alexander. Fight this. Come back to me.’

Something flickers across Alec’s expression, and Magnus’ heart skips a beat. But then Alec is shaking his head, drawing back the blade, and shifting his stance in a way Magnus has seen too many times not to recognize as going in for the kill. ‘No,’ Alec says – and there’s no hurt or doubt, now, just anger and determination. ‘I’m done being some fleeting amusement for you. And you’re gonna regret not taking me seriously.’

The blade flashes and Magnus somehow finds a smile, tries to find the words for I’m sorry and I love you and I forgive you – And then there’s a splintering sound behind him and a blur in front of him, a dagger sinking into Alec’s wrist and the seraph blade dropping from his grip as he howls in pain – and then there’s someone at Magnus’ side, ripping another blade through the containment circle and gods, Magnus never thought he’d be so happy to see Jace Herondale as he is right now. ‘Thank you, Blondie,’ he says – and then he’s pouring all of his fading adrenaline into his magic, forcing Alec down to his knees and holding him fast and safe.

His captive struggles for a moment; but then his face clears from fury into a smug smile, his eyes flooding with black as the demon drops the charade. ‘If I go, I’m taking him with me,’ it hisses. Magnus can practically feel Jace tense up beside him, but he pushes down his own instinctive thrill of fear in favor of an eye roll. ‘Nice try, but you’re nowhere near that powerful,’ he scoffs. ‘And I’ll be taking my boyfriend back now.’ He twists his hands, and grins as he feels the demon give way, its attempts to hold on inside Alec futile. ‘Buh-bye.’

Gray smoke billows into the room, blinking into existence around Alec – and with another lazy wave of Magnus’ hand it’s turned to ash a moment later.

He drops to his knees, taking the weight as he lets the magic go and Alec slumps forward, unconscious. ‘I’ve got you,’ he whispers; and he closes his eyes, allows himself just a moment of relief because it’s over. ‘I’ve got you. It’s all right.’ A quick magical scan reveals no injury – besides the wrist, of course, which he quickly heals – and so he takes a deep breath and stands the both of them up, glancing over when Jace silently slips under Alec’s other shoulder. ‘Excellent timing on your part,’ he comments, summoning a portal with his last scrap of energy and swiftly dismissing the swell of irritation at how easily his magic drains itself these days. ‘I’m guessing you felt the possession in some way?’ ‘Not exactly,’ Jace says, pausing for a moment as they step through into Alec’s room, and between them get him laid out on the bed. ‘I think I felt a bit of it, but mostly, what got my attention was his reaction – you know, underneath it, the real him that was trapped behind what the demon was doing.’ ‘Oh?’ Magnus asks, taking a seat up by the headboard and resting a hand in Alec’s curls, pleasantly grounded by the touch. ‘Yeah,’ Jace says, and when Magnus looks back up at him, he’s caught by a grave, intense gaze. ‘I haven’t felt fear like that from him since the day the Soul Sword went off.’ ‘…Oh.’ Magnus nods slowly, the weight of that not lost on him. ‘I see.’

Jace nods back in acknowledgement, gently clapping Alec’s shoulder as he gets up and heads for the door. ‘I should probably go tell Izzy what happened,’ he says. ‘Let us know when he wakes up, okay?’ ‘Of course,’ Magnus says, and then Jace is gone and he’s alone with Alec once more.

With no-one left to hide from, he closes his eyes, and waits for the ringing in his ears to go away.

Judging by the light in the room, it’s not long before there’s a shifting at his side, and Magnus opens his eyes again. ‘Alexander?’ he calls softly, leaning forward and twisting until he’s facing his boyfriend, one hand cradling his face as the other reaches out for one of Alec’s hands. ‘Are you with me?’ Alec’s face scrunches briefly – and then his eyes squint open, his mouth twitching up into a half-smile. ‘Hey,’ he mumbles. Magnus’ relief bolsters his exhaustion, but it’s welcome nevertheless. ‘Hey. How are you feeling?’ ‘Fine,’ Alec says; and Magnus lets him get away with the white lie, doesn’t even comment when Alec sits up and immediately winces, blood rushing away from an abused head and through muscles that must be aching. ‘What happened?’ ‘What do you remember?’ Magnus says, in lieu of an answer.

Alec frowns. ‘I was in my office?’ He looks back at Magnus – and that must be enough to trigger some kind of memory, because his face instantly falls, shock draining his color, worried hands reaching out and stopping just shy of touching. ‘Oh god, it – Are you okay? Did I hurt you?’ ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Magnus says, smiling as if to prove it, holding up a hand to forestall any other concern, the other briefly cupping Alec’s jaw in a gesture of reassurance. ‘Everything’s okay, I promise. I’m guessing you remember the possession, then?’ ‘Only – only bits and pieces,’ Alec says, reaching out and lightly skimming a hand over Magnus’ arm. ‘How did you…’ ‘Jace,’ Magnus supplies. ‘Thankfully, I hadn’t magically sealed the door, only locked it. He broke in just in time.’ ‘Just in time,’ Alec echoes, and he lets out a deep breath. ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘You don’t have to be,’ Magnus says firmly. ‘It wasn’t you.’ ‘I know,’ Alec says unconvincingly. ‘But still, what I almost did, what I must have said-‘ ‘-Was not you,’ Magnus insists. ‘It was a demon twisting perfectly natural, harmless insecurities. That’s all.’ And he believes that, honestly, knows how possession will drive the tiniest grievances to outlandish extremes. But he’s not infallible, either, and he can’t quite help reach for his own reassurance even as he silently chides himself for doing it. ‘After all, I’m fairly certain you know that I love you, that you’re not just some distraction,’ he says quietly, glad not to be making eye contact anymore as he hears the levity fall flat. ‘Obviously, you must know how important you are to me, after all we’ve been through.’

It’s not a good piece of acting on his part, of course, and Alec sighs. ‘That’s what I said?’ He shifts a little closer, wrapping an arm around Magnus’ waist. ‘I’m sorry.‘ ‘Alexander, you don’t have to be, you don’t have to explain-‘ ‘But I want to,’ Alec insists. ‘Please.’ And Magnus isn’t sure he wants this conversation today, if ever – but it’s never been easy for him to refuse any request from a loved one, and so he nods.

Alec’s quiet for a moment. ‘I know that you love me,’ he says eventually, and something inside Magnus eases to hear that. ‘And I know that our – situation, our lifespans, don’t change that. It’s just… hard, sometimes. But it’s not on you to change anything,’ he adds. ‘It’s just something I have to wrap my head around. And it’s a good thing in a lot of ways, because I’m happy that you’ve been happy, you know? But that doesn’t stop the more… unhelpful feelings turning up sometimes, the – the insecurities, or whatever. Even though I know that what they’re saying isn’t true.’

He reaches over with his free hand and taps on Magnus’ thigh, asking for his attention, and Magnus obliges, turning back to face him. ‘I love you, and I know that you love me,’ Alec says again, a small, sad smile crossing his face. ‘That’s what matters. The rest is just… something that might take me a while to work through.’

Magnus returns the smile as best he can. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘And I’m sorry I tried to rush it, before, tried to – explain away your feelings. I suppose I was just… afraid.’ ‘Afraid?’ Alec prompts, gently. Magnus shrugs. ‘I owe more than a few goodbyes to this topic,’ he admits. ‘Not their fault, of course - it’s a lot for someone to deal with, whatever kind of relationship may have been between us. But that’s why I got – defensive. Because I was afraid that…’ He trails off – but thankfully, Alexander knows him well enough by now that he gets the idea. ‘You thought it would be ‘too much’ for me, too,’ he finishes. Magnus lets out a single breath of mirthless laughter, looking down at the light playing off of his rings. ‘I know that’s not a fair reaction, and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if that were the case. But – well. It’s no secret that the possibility of losing you doesn’t leave me at my best.’

‘Magnus,’ Alec says softly, and he doesn’t speak again until Magnus looks back up at him. ‘It’s completely fair for you to want someone to stick around, to accept all of you – and when it comes to this issue, I’m gonna be that person. You’re not losing me over this, I swear.’ His tone is even, his gaze sincere, and Magnus lets himself get lost in that certainty, just for a moment. ‘Whatever I need to sort out in my own head, I don’t want you to be afraid that I’m gonna leave you over it. Because I honestly don’t ever see that happening – for any reason.’

And it almost makes Magnus feel a little bad, because Alec’s the one who’s gone through something awful today, and yet he’s also the one supplying the comfort – but nonetheless, he nods, tries to take the much-needed assurance to heart. ‘Okay,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ll try and remember that.’ ‘Good.’ Alec smiles, wider and more genuine.

Magnus can’t quite return it, this time, he’s still too raw from the day they’ve had - so instead, he leans in for a kiss. It’s a better demonstration of how he’s feeling, in any case.

~oOo~

#malec #malec fic #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #shtv #shs #alec lightwood #magnus bane #jace herondale (appearing briefly)#mine

52 notes · View notes

half-bakedboy · 3 years

Text

Worth It (read on ao3)

Pairing: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Rated: Gen Summary: Izzy had seen the girl at Pandemonium; saw the way Jace’s seraph blade lit up when she grabbed onto it, noticed the fire inside of her that seemed to burn as bright as her hair, witnessed the fear of the unknown in her eyes while Izzy and her siblings fought around her. Izzy immediately understood why Jace had wanted to follow her and, if she wasn’t so fearful of straining her already tense relationship with Alec, she would have been right beside him.

She had heard the girl’s friends chasing after her without seeing Izzy do the same and her name echoed in Izzy’s mind. Clary. Even in the distressed state she was in, Izzy thought the name fit the gorgeous girl in front of her.

For 5 Years of Shadowhunters presented by the @malecdiscordserver!

“Who is that?!” Alec yelled as Jace entered the Institute, the unconscious redhead limp across his arms. Jace pointedly ignored him and veered toward the infirmary, hauling her up the steps before gently laying her on the bed. Izzy followed them, immediately intrigued by the way Jace held her so protectively. When he pulled down the collar of her shirt, she saw a deep wound with almost charred skin around it and hissed as she knelt beside Jace.

When he pulled out his stele, Izzy rested her hand over his in surprise and cried, “Jace, you can’t!” There was a small amount of fear in her voice that she didn’t have time to be confused about. She could feel both her sibling’s frustration resonating around the room, tension heavy in the air as Jace tore his hand away.

“She’s going to die, Izzy, I-- I have to try,” Jace whispered as he pushed her head to the side exposing her neck. Izzy had remembered that ravener venom spread quickly and knew that the rune would have to be drawn as close to the injury as possible to be more effective. Izzy wouldn’t have chosen that placement for her first rune, but she realized there was a chance the beautiful girl wouldn’t even survive long enough to care.

“She’s a mundane!” Alec argued as if reading Izzy’s mind and stomped forward angrily. Izzy shot up as quickly as she could and rested her hands against Alec’s chest to stop him from making the - possibly more logical - decision. They didn’t have time for logic when the mundane was gasping for air, sweat pouring off of her skin as she struggled to survive. She glanced back at Jace with a look she hoped contained the trust she had in him.

“She either dies from the venom or dies from the rune, Alec,” Jace countered as he hovered his stele over her pale skin. Izzy thought he had a point; the girl was either dead or a shadowhunter they had never met before and Izzy wasn’t sure which option scared her the most. “We have to try,” Jace whispered as he peered up at Izzy with pleading eyes. Izzy sent a similar glance to Alec who threw his hands above his head in resigned exasperation and stormed out of the room mumbling something about his idiotic siblings.

Izzy wasn’t sure he was far off, but Izzy had seen the girl at Pandemonium; saw the way Jace’s seraph blade lit up when she grabbed onto it, noticed the fire inside of her that seemed to burn as bright as her hair, witnessed the fear of the unknown in her eyes while Izzy and her siblings fought around her. Izzy immediately understood why Jace had wanted to follow her and, if she wasn’t so fearful of straining her already tense relationship with Alec, she would have been right beside him.

She wished she could have been there to help Jace save her, but she pushed it all aside as Jace held his stele over her neck again with hesitation. The best she could do then was to stroke Clary’s hair from her face, rest her palm comfortingly on her forehead, and give Jace a brief nod before he burned the rune onto her unblemished skin. Clary shook with what Izzy figured was pain - she remembered how it felt the first time a rune was etched into her skin and shuddered at the memory - and her breaths came out in breathless gasps and animal-like hisses.

“Hurry!” Izzy said as she held Clary down as best as she could without hurting her when Clary’s body started convulsing. She leaned over Clary for a better grip and rested her head onto the bed next to Clary’s ear and whispered, “I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re going to get through this,” and hoped that the girl could hear her. When Clary fell silent and still, Izzy let out a deep breath and glanced up at Jace.

“What do we do?” Izzy asked nervously.

Jace shook his head and stood before saying, “Now, we wait.”

---------------------

Izzy stayed by Clary’s side while Jace changed out of his clothes and a few minutes later when she heard Alec and Jace’s raised voices a few yards away, she slid the glass door shut so Clary could sleep soundly. Izzy wiped at Clary’s forehead with a warm cloth to rid her of the sweat that had dampened it in her struggle and brushed her hair rain-soaked hair out the best she could with her fingers. With the help of one of the medics, Izzy changed Clary into dry and untattered clothing, laying her back down so she could try to regain her strength.

Clary hadn’t moved in almost a day but the wound on her shoulder was healing slowly, the darkened skin around it returning to its natural pasty color. The pale color contrasted sharply with the vibrant hue of the hair Izzy stroked softly. Izzy stayed at her side as much as she could, only leaving when nature called and tasking Jace to protect her in the meantime. She couldn’t imagine what Clary would think or feel when she awoke and she had decided she wanted Clary to see her first.

Just as fear was starting to get the better of her, Clary shot out of her sleeping position and her head slammed against Izzy’s painfully. For a moment she saw stars and then her mind was enamored by the beautiful green eyes staring back at her.

“Ow,” Izzy said because every other thought floating around her mind was entirely too forward and she wasn’t about to risk scaring Clary off with her flirtatious nature.

Clary looked panicked for a moment, pushing herself backward as she said, “Wait, I don’t know who you--” Izzy rested a hand on Clary’s knee and smiled softly at her, her bright red lips curling over her teeth in what she hoped was a comforting view to the mundane.

“I’m Isabelle,” she said simply. When that didn’t seem to ease Clary’s fear, she racked her brain for what a mundane might want to hear and came up almost empty. Clary froze as she glanced in Jace’s direction, a bit of recognition flooding her eyes. “I’ve never seen Jace so curious about a mundane… or distracted,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. She wasn’t about to let Clary see that Jace wasn’t the only shadowhunter distracted by her mere presence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who’s Jace?” Clary asked as her eyes darted toward the hand Izzy had on her knee before meeting her eyes again. Izzy thought she could stare into Clary’s eyes forever and it would feel as though no time had passed.

“You really don’t know much, do you?” Izzy responded slowly. She had thought at first that maybe she was lying to Jace in order to stop the interest he obviously had in her, but the way she searched around the room as if she’d never seen anything like it before had Izzy second-guessing herself. Clary seemed to have that effect on her. “Like you saw earlier, distractions are dangerous in our line of work.”

“What are you talking about? What work?!” Clary asked, a begging tone to her voice that had Izzy squeezing her knee to try and calm her down. It seemed to work as Clary took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly as she shook her head. Izzy figured she was trying to shake all of her fear and anxiety away and was instantly filled with equal parts respect and sympathy for the girl.

“All I know is some psychos took my mother and now you people have taken me,” Clary said as she opened her eyes. The panic that had filled them before was replaced with that fire Izzy had immediately been captivated by. Clary was full of strength and surprises and Izzy had never wanted to get to know someone more.

“And by ‘taken’ I assume you mean ‘saved your life’?” Izzy retorted before she could stop herself. Clary glared at her heatedly before standing presumably too quickly as she stumbled over her bare feet. Izzy was at her side in an instant with a hand around her waist to steady her. Clary’s big green eyes widened and she gasped as Izzy instinctively pulled her closer, unable to stop herself from protecting Clary.

“Where am I? What is this place?” Clary whispered without making a move to separate herself from Izzy. Before Izzy could answer, she heard Alec’s complaints and Jace’s scoff outside the room and sighed.

“We’ll try to explain everything soon,” Izzy whispered as she noticed Clary’s eyes struggling to stay open. She was still exhausted and even standing was too much for her recovering body to handle. Izzy guided her back to the bed and Clary followed easily, laying back as she tried to stay awake. “Get some more rest, okay? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” Izzy whispered, stroking a hand over Clary’s hair one more time.

There wasn’t any reason Clary should believe her, but she nodded anyway and let her eyes fall shut. She was asleep in seconds, her hand gripping Izzy’s even as her breathing evened out and the rest of her body relaxed. When Alec and Jace entered bickering loudly, Izzy shot them a deathly glare that had them turning around and exiting without another word.

She wasn’t sure what it was about Clary, but as Izzy’s eyes roamed her still and vulnerable form, her heart beat a little faster and butterflies erupted in her stomach. Izzy promised herself she would protect Clary at whatever cost and something told her Clary would be worth it.

#clizzy #clizzy fic #shadowhunters #femslash #clary fray #isabelle lightwood #my writing #coda #5 years of shadowhunters #mdsrewatch

8 notes · View notes

thesunandseonghwa · 4 years

Text

Shadows and Angels | Part Two

chan x reader / changbin x reader

warnings: none

some more angst but a little bitty bit of fluff towards the end !

see here for glossary of terms used

masterlist

You were always one of those people that prided themselves on planning things out thoroughly but now you had no idea what was going on anymore in your life. First: you had been drugged and almost kidnapped, then you saw said kidnappers run away at a speed that seemed impossible. Not to mention the two unnaturally beautiful boys both armed with glowing swords who saved your life.

Then said boys killed your best friend who wasn't actually your best friend but some kind of shape-shifting monster and now you were alone in this town you barely knew and you were just a broke college student with no family.

Great.

"We're here," The blonde -Chan stated, you gratefully handed him back his black leather jacket which he had given you to cover your legs so that you were more comfortable sitting in your short dress.

"Where exactly is here-" You cut yourself as you gazed up at the large building in front of you, it almost resembled one of those old church buildings but much larger. It had a strange symbol on the huge front door, the same symbol you had noted was deeply set in black on Chan's forearm, "What is this place?"

"It's the Seoul Institute," Chan said with a smile on his face as he pushed the huge door open.

You followed him inside, you were aware of the other boy -Changbin following closely behind you. You didn't know what to make of him just yet, he didn't seem to like you much. You tried not to gawk too much at everything as you stepped inside. Other similarly dressed people guarded the door, black marks covering their arms, hands and even necks like Chan and Changbin.

Just then another boy turned the corner, he was clad in, unlike the rest who were in full black and what looked like combat gear, He was dressed in a casual white t-shirt, grey sweatpants and his hair tousled as if he had just woken up. He smiled as he saw the other two boys, greeting them both with a hug.

"Hey Felix, could you get Jihyo for me? I've got to introduce someone to her," Chan said,

"I suppose you mean this girl?" Felix gestured toward you, his voice was surprisingly deep when you took into account the youthfulness of his face.

Then again, you just saw your best and only friend turn into some demonic thing, so you really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore.

"This girl has a name," You said, meeting Felix's eyes, "I'm Y/N,"

Felix held out a hand for you to shake, "Nice to meet you, Y/N,"

"Delighted," You said, forcing some semblance of a smile.

"Jihyo just portaled to Idris*, Council* meeting so you've got the next best thing," A third voice chimed in, this one decidedly female.

Said female had short brown hair, half of it was tied up and the rest fell in a gentle swoop just barely grazing her shoulders. She was also decked out in all black like the rest of them but she somehow managed to make the simple all black outfit look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Those dark marks covering the skin you could see, she smiled at the boys before her eyes landed on you and you suddenly felt awfully embarrassed. Your hair was a mess and you were most likely covered in a fine layer of dirt from taking a drugged nap on the sidewalk. You were pretty sure your dress looked like it had been dragged across the floor as well

which it had been actually.

"Has no one offered you a bath and some fresh clothes?" The girl punched Chan in the shoulder playfully, Chan feigning being offended at the action, "I'm Nayeon, I suppose you have lots of questions but I think we should get you cleaned up first, huh?"

"So we're just letting a mundane into the Institute, no questions asked?" Changbin suddenly intervened, he looked at you like you were the enemy but you didn't even know who you were anymore so how were you supposed to know if you were even their enemy?

"If she was just any mundane, she wouldn't have been able to even see the Institute even a mundane with the sight wouldn't be able do that, the Institute is warded," Nayeon looked to you again.

She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, "Chan, I've got to meet up with Jihyo, get this girl a shower and some clean clothes please?"

Without much other choice and honestly you really wanted to get out of this dress that was splattered with who knows what. You followed Chan up the stairs to what to you looked like a long hallway of bedrooms. It almost reminded you of your old high school hostel. There were portraits of people lining the walls, all also covered with those black marks everyone had.

You were amazed at all that you were seeing but still beyond confused, you stopped, dead in your tracks, in the hallway, "This is all very nice of you people but I think I deserve an explanation now, you promised me an explanation, Chan,"

"Okay, I can't explain everything in a matter of minutes but here's a quick summary, demons exist you saw that so do vampires, werewolves, warlocks we call them downworlders, all the stories are true," Chan said, turning to finally face you.

He leaned against the doorway of an open room before he spoke again, you tried to ignore the way the muscles in his arms shifted. A man built like that had no business wearing sleeveless shirts, you snapped yourself of your trance. He had just told you vampires were real and here you were ogling his arms.

Wow. That sounds pathetic.

In all honesty, you weren't very surprised. Now it felt like everything finally made sense, the things you saw in the corner of your eye your entire life.

"But what are you guys actually, you called yourself a demon hunter or something?" You asked, looking down at your clasped hands in front of you.

You hated feeling or looking weak and right now you felt pathetic, you had been thrust into a world you knew nothing of.

"We're shadowhunters, people with angel blood. We hunt demons, protect the greater good, try and maintain balance between the shadow world and well the world you know and love," Chan said nonchalantly as if he was just stating the weather outside, "It's the angel blood that makes us all so... alluring,"

You chose to ignore his comment on angel blood, "But what am I..."

You muttered under your breath. What were you? Who were you? Were you really just another what had Changbin said, Mundane?

You felt grateful that Chan didn't hear your next question or if he did, he was pretending he didn't.

"That Changbin guy doesn't like me very much," You thought as he crossed your mind, his sharp jaw, dark hair and of course, his moody attitude.

"Changbin doesn't like anyone, don't take it personally," Chan replied, laughing. He had dimples when smiled, his eyes creasing into little half moons.

"If you guys are shadowhunters and my best friend was a demon then where am I supposed to fit in here?" You asked, tentatively. If you were honest, you were afraid of the answer.

Chan seemed to mull over his words for a few minutes before he spoke, gesturing for you to enter the bedroom, "I don't know, you have the sight, you could see the Institute, you may very well be a shadowhunter like us but there's also a chance you just have the sight,"

"The sight?" You asked as you looked around the room, it was simply decorated. Four poster bed, bedside table, closet in the corner, a door that looked like it led to a bathroom.

"It just means you're able to see the world as it is, the way we see it," Chan explained, just as he was about to speak again. Changbin arrived at the door, holding a small bundle of clothes.

"Not very well, considering the girl was best friends with a shape-shifting demon and didn't even know," Changbin voice was monotone, almost bored sounding as he spoke to Chan.

He didn't even spare you a glance, "Nayeon told me to bring this up to the mundane before she left, she said they should fit,"

You gratefully took the bundle of clothes from Changbin's hands, "Would you stop calling me that? I have a name,"

What did this guy have against you?

"Then what are you?" Changbin asked, you very much wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, "You don't know right? So, how do we know you're not just a mundane or a threat to everyone here?"

"Bin, serious-" Chan begin but couldn't finish,

This Changbin was annoying you and it felt like he was doing it on purpose.

You clenched your firsts at your sides and the words came tumbling out of you much louder than you had anticipated, "I would never hurt anyone, I just saw my best and only friend since I moved here turn into some monster, was drugged and almost kidnapped and then brought here by some guys with tattoos and glowing swords and now I don't even know what I am anymore so I don't know maybe give me a goddamn break?"

It was then you realised that you were crying, tears blurring your vision. You hadn't cried in forever, you turned your back to the two of them, wiping at the wetness on your cheeks.

"Changbin go, you've done enough," You heard Chan whisper, you heard his footsteps come nearer to you. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder, you couldn't see his face as you were turned away from him, "I'm sorry about Changbin, he won't admit it but he probably feels terrible about making you cry,"

You turned to face him, you felt his proximity, you could count his eyelashes from here. You surprised yourself by wrapping you arms around his waist, a simple hug of gratitude "Thank you for you know everything, you've been quite nice to me, a total stranger," Chan smiled at your words as he rubbed your back soothingly.

"It's no biggie, my room is down the hall, last door on your left if you need anything, I think I should leave you to well process everything, maybe get some shut-eye," Chan cleared his throat, backing away from you as if he only now realized how close you two had been, "Uh, goodnight then I guess?"

"Goodnight," And you genuinely smiled this time as you watched Chan walk away, his blonde head of hair disappearing as he closed the door behind him.

Somehow you felt like you'd be alright. Especially with someone like Chan there for you.

#stray kids shadowhunter #stray kids #skz au #stray kids au #skz aus #bangchan #bangchan au #changbin au #changbin #stray kids fic #stray kids shadowhunters au

21 notes · View notes

tsc-living · 5 years

Photo

Ty had mixed feelings about neckties; he liked trying and perfecting all the different knots, but he didn’t like how they felt around his neck. This was why he wasn’t wearing one to his wedding, but also why Kit was- so that Ty could do it up for him. Ty stood at the window to the library of the LA Institute with the gold satin tie in his hands, the soft blue stitches that honoured Kit’s downworld blood resisting Ty’s fidgeting fingers and keeping the accessory together. He could feel the textured runes against his skin, and just by the feel of them he could tell which one meant what; love, purity, hope, forever, and many other ceremonial wedding runes that made him feel safe. From where he stood at the window he could see everyone setting up the wedding down below as the sun reached its peak in the sky, glittering on the ocean like Magnus had replaced the water with his magic. Magnus Bane, Catarina Loss and Oliver Sound were setting up wards and Glamours so that the event could go unnoticed by any Mundanes that may be on the beach, and Tessa Gray was flittering around like a proud and nervous fly as she tried to keep everyone on task. Jem was helping young Mina decorate the simple wooden structure, which Ty and Kit would be standing on for the ceremony, with gold ribbons and flowers. The residents of the New York Institute, who had arrived the night before to help, were setting up the chairs with Mark who had been banished from the kitchen. The residents of the LA Institute were bringing out trays of food and setting them up under a long tent on equally long tables and every now and again, one of the warlocks would float over to enchant the food to stay fresh and edible in the LA weather. It had been Kit’s idea to have the wedding at sunset and the party into the night, and his reasoning had been that Ty doesn’t like the sun so much, but he had told Ty later that it was more to do with the fact that so many of their milestones had been in the dark: their first time meeting, Kit saying that he loved Ty, Ty saying it back three and half years later, their first kiss and first time having sex, and even the proposal. It seemed fitting to Kit, and to Ty, that they get married at sundown too. A shadow fell over the organised chaos on the beach as a large, winged shape flew past the sun and Ty glanced up to see Ash circling the goings on. He was clearly looking for something, but he didn’t find what it happened to be and Ty watched as his fiancé’s parabatai flew down to land on the top step in front of the Institute. Thais and Dru broke apart from their tasks on the beach and ran up towards the winged man, both grinning happily to see their friend and he enveloped the two of them in a hug. Ty obviously couldn’t hear them, and their mouths were obscured by wings and shadows for him to read what they were saying so he turned his attention back to the beach just in time to see Julian press a kiss to Emma’s temple and move towards the institute and follow the small group inside.

It was only a moment later that there was a gentle knock on the library door and then Julian pushed the heavy door open. Ty watched his reflection in the window as his older brother made his way slowly to him, feeling his heart beating strong and sure inside his chest. “How are you feeling?” Julian asked and Ty smiled, turning around to face him.

“I feel safe… and I feel comfortable,” he said before glancing down at the crowd on the beach, “A little bit apprehensive about all of the people perhaps, but I did know that they were all going to be here so I will be okay.”

“I know you will be Ty-Ty,” Julian said, his voice soft and eyes shining. Ty knew that Julian wasn’t sad or hurt, so his tears were just a physical manifestation of his happiness and possibly pride, but Ty still wasn’t sure what to do about them.

“Please don’t cry Jules…” he said helplessly, plucking a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to Julian who looked at it sceptically before shaking his head and blinking his tears away.

“Why do you have a handkerchief?” He asked, lips twitching in a smile. Ty glanced down at it before putting it back in his pocket and looked back up at Julian, shrugging lightly.

“Kit wanted us to incorporate a Mundane tradition into the wedding, seeing as though we have incorporated Shadowhunter and Downworld traditions. I have something old and something new, and Kit has something borrowed and something blue. The handkerchief is old, we found it in the New York Institute.”

“That’s really nice, but I’m glad I didn’t use it,” Julian said with a familiar tease in his voice. Ty knew that often meant he didn’t need to reply so he resisted the urge to tell Julian that they had washed and mended the old handkerchief.

“A couple more hours until the ceremony,” Ty began, looking out the window, “Which means everyone else will start arriving soon.”

“Yeah, they will, but what’s important is that you and Kit are okay.”

“I’m okay, why wouldn’t we be?” Ty asked curiously, trying to puzzle out why they wouldn’t be. It wasn’t like they were in any more danger than on an average day, in fact the two of them were inside when everyone else was outside and vulnerable on the beach. Julian sighed and carefully raised his hand and after Ty nodded his permission, he lowered it to Ty’s shoulder and smiled.

“Some grooms get nervous before their weddings, and sometimes they get scared or worried or emotional. It’s normal, so I just wanted to check on you.”

“Were you nervous before your wedding?” Ty asked, genuinely surprised to hear this. He couldn’t understand why someone would be nervous before their wedding, and he couldn’t imagine himself to feel nervous before his. He was marrying Kit, the man he had loved since he was fifteen years old. Why would he be nervous? He was looking forward to standing next to Kit as his husband.

“I was a little bit, and in hindsight I don’t know why… I guess I can understand why you wouldn’t be nervous little brother,” Julian said fondly, squeezing Ty’s shoulder gently and letting go with a grin on his face. “You really do love him don’t you…”

“Did you doubt it?”

“No, never. It just… you can be so hard to read sometimes Ty and yet how much you love Kit is written so clearly across your face sometimes and it just takes me by surprise.” Julian sounded so awed as he spoke that Ty decided not to point out that he had nothing written on his face and just accept the figure of speech.

“I do love him, and as long as he knows that then that is all that matters,” Ty said, and it wasn’t the first time he had said it. Julian nodded and then took a step back, looking at Ty from the top of his head to his shoes and back again.

“You look amazing, very sharp and elegant.”

“Thank you,” Ty said politely, “I never thought gold would be my colour.”

“Every colour looks good on you,” Kit’s voice answered and Ty looked to the door to see his fiancé standing there with the biggest grin on his face. He had on a gold suit, Marked with darker gold thread with four gold rings with multicoloured gems on his left hand. He was saturated in gold, from his curly hair and the colour of his skin, to the clothes and adornments he was covered in. Ty smiled, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks in a blush.

“You look very nice,” Ty said and Kit winked at him before turning his attention to Julian.

“Do you mind helping Ash and the girls upstairs please? I will bring Ty out before the ceremony.”

“You’d better!” Julian said as he walked towards Kit and rested his hand on his shoulder, “Your suggenes will be waiting for you,” he looked over his shoulder at Ty and smiled, “And so will yours.”

Kit closed the library door behind Julian and walked over to where Ty was standing in front of the big window and gently put his hand on Ty’s waist, to which Ty leant against it for more pressure and smiled down at his fiancé who turned his face up to smile back, gold hair falling off his forehead.

“Julian is my suggenes, why didn’t he just say that he would be waiting?” Ty asked and Kit shrugged, reaching up with his other hand to rub between Ty’s eyebrow where he must have been frowning.

“He could have used Ash’s name too, but I think he is just proud to be your suggenes and wants to say it as many times as he can,” Kit replied and then he leaned up and tilted his head a little bit, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay,” Ty whispered, a familiar pulling in his stomach as they closed the gap between their lips. Ty pulled his arms out from Kit’s embrace and looped the tie around his fiancé’s neck and used the ends to pull him closer, inviting a surprised and pleasant sound from Kit’s mouth as he clasped his hands around Ty’s back.

“I love you baby,” Kit murmured against Ty’s lip and Ty smiled into the kiss, his heart fluttering like a bird trapped behind his ribs.

“I love you too,” Ty confirmed, because he knew Kit liked the reassurance, and then leant back to fidget with the tie some more.

“Can you tie it please?” Kit asked and Ty nodded, readjusting the accessory and doing it up neatly, his fingers lingering there for a moment before letting go of it. His fingers immediately missed having something to fiddle with and, as if reading his mind, Kit stepped close again and nestled his face against the crook of his neck and Ty curled his fingers in the blonde hair at the back of his head, a smile growing on his face. Ty backed up and sat down gracefully in the armchair facing the window, pulling Kit down on top of him, his familiar weight and shape comforting on him. He curled and fiddled with Kit’s soft hair, breathing in his familiar scent; LA sage and the UK rain that never seemed to leave him no matter how many years he had been home.

“I am looking forward to being your husband,” Ty said softly and Kit smiled, his lips tickling Ty’s neck.

“Part of me can’t even believe this is happening,” Kit whispered, sitting up and cupping Ty’s cheek softly, his rings cold against his skin. Ty smiled and turned his face to kiss his palm and then leaned against him.

“It is happening,” Ty said, “we are getting married pretty soon.”

“I know,” Kit said with a soft breath of laughter, “When I was fifteen and I fell in love with you without even knowing it… I couldn’t have imagined this day for us. And for years after, when I was in Devon and even when I was back here, I wouldn’t let myself even dream about this day. Yet here I am, with you, about to be married to you. It just… I don’t have all the right words to tell you how amazing this feels.”

Ty reach up and wiped the tear out of the corner of Kit’s eye, “You don’t need to cry my love.”

“I can’t help it, I love you so much,” Kit said, but he was smiling so Ty knew his tears weren’t from sadness. He just curled his fingers around the back of Kit’s neck and pulled him back down against him gently, holding him close so that their heartbeats and breathing were in harmony.

***

Kit stayed curled with Ty on the arm chair, watching the beach get set up for the wedding as the sun started to drop down towards the ocean, the two of them talking softly and making each other laugh. He waited until the last minute to climb off Ty’s lap, straighten up their suits and smooth their hair, before linking their hands together and walking out of the library. They had watched Dru and Thais run out of the Institute a few minutes before so they weren’t surprised to find Ash and Julian standing alone in the entry way of the Institute, both looking supremely happy and proud. “Good evening future Mr and Mr Blackthorn-Herondale,” Julian said and Kit squeezed Ty’s hand gently. The two of them hadn’t thought about what they were going to do with their surnames, but Ty didn’t want his to change and Kit was comfortable as both a Herondale and a Blackthorn, and he needed to think some more. On the one hand, the Blackthorns had been the first family to show him love, what it means to be a family, protect him without question and even to trust him. On the other hand, being a Herondale was so important to Shadowhunters, to the Carstairs who loved him like a son and a brother, and to his family past and present. He still had some time to decide, and as Jace and Clary had reminded him just because you keep your surname doesn’t make you any less married.

“Ready to get hitched?” Ash asked, startling a laugh out of Julian and Kit shook his head with an affectionate smile.

“You spend too much time with Jackson,” Kit told him and Ash winked in response at the mention of his Mundane best friend.

“Get hitched?” Ty asked and Kit grinned, resting his cheek on Ty’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry babe, Ash was trying to be funny,” Kit explained and he felt Ty shrug in resignation, clearly deciding not to worry about not understanding something in that moment in time. They had more important things to be thinking about, which was highlighted by the fact that Ash and Julian stepped forward to pry them apart and lead them away to the beach. Ty and Julian stood side by side without touching, but Kit could see the natural ease between them that they had worked for and nurtured of years of trying and patience from the two men. Ash put his hand on Kit’s arm, halting him so that the front door closed between them and Ty and Julian.

“You didn’t answer my question…” Ash said, his calm and strong voice that Kit had relied on for years as an anchor was low and serious.

“The question? About getting hitched?” Kit asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. He was even more surprised by his parabatai’s grave nod. “By the Angel Ash, do you even have to ask?” He said, taking Ash’s hand and raising it to rest over his heart. Ash, like Kit himself, was always a few degrees warmer than your average Shadowhunter because of their faerie blood and Kit could feel the warmth of Ash through his heavy wedding suit.

“I just want to know you are sure…” Ash said, his voice low and urgent. Kit smiled and tightened his grip on his friend’s wrist.

“Ash, you know my heart as well as I do. We are tied by blood, heart and soul, and you can read me almost as if we are tied by telepathy. You know that I am ready and that I want to do this. You know I love Ty, you know I want to marry him.” Kit kept his voice soft and gentle as he spoke, but he knew that Ash was listening intently. His parabatai smiled, just the small lift at the corner of his lips, but it was enough for Kit to let go of his wrist and Ash curled his fist into Kit’s suit jacket for a brief, anguished moment before letting go.

“You’re right, you’re ready. I fear it is me who is not ready for everything to change,” Ash replied and Kit shook his head, a bubble of fondness for his friend who had suffered many changes in his life.

“Nothing much will change Ash, you know that deep down. You and I are still going to be parabatai.”

“I know, I do…” Ash lifted his arm up and Kit smiled, linking his arm through Ash’s, and leant forward to open the front door of the LA Institute. He could see Julian and Ty walking down the path towards the beach and further down he could see all of their friends and family waiting in peaceful silence apart from the warlock enchanted instruments and the three piece faerie orchestra playing for them.

@fantasticfangirlwonderland I hope you like it <3

#kitty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kitty blackdale #tsc #tda #tmi #tid #requested #asks

136 notes · View notes

shleezaemour · 5 years

Text

The Shadow hunter Major Arcana

I noticed that the shadow hunter tarot did not come with a booklet. Shame, guess I’ll write one. Here is my interpretation of the major arcana of the Shadow hunter Tarot deck. I will be doing the other cards too, but that will take time. I have this section finished so here you go, enjoy!

**The fool!**

Henry Branwell ( The scientist)

Even in the picture Henry is surrounded by his cogs and gears. Always the butt of the joke, but perfectly fine with it. Henry understands that people laugh at him but he knows what he’s doing is for the greater good no matter how many times he fails. The man behind the woman, the levity in the relationship. Brings light and humor to the starkness of Charlottes personality. While he rules in logic, he can see beyond it to create what’s only ever been dreams.

**2nd Fool card!**

Tavvy and Drusilla (The dreamer & the innocent)

Drusilla dreams of glory as she is in the middle of things. She’s too young to go on adventures, and to old to really be a child. While the older kids ignore her for the most part, they don’t understand that keeping her in the dark isn’t going to keep her innocent forever. As Julian said she is the heart of the family, none of them could function without her. While she lives in fantasy with her horror movies and playing the part of secret con man, she just wants to be noticed. Tavvy being the youngest and the baby, is the perfect sign of innocence. Still wanting to be held, still needing someone to keep the nightmares away. Not quite wanting to grow up, because that would mean the nightmares were real. In the picture you see Dru carrying Tavvy, Tavvy has wings on the back of his shirt showing his innocent angelic presence. The scene is at night, showing that Dru is there for him anytime he needs.

Upright : Beginning of a journey, innocence, acting without thinking things through. Potential.

Reverse: Uncertainty, failure to seize the moment.

**The Magcian**

Magnus Bane (The warlock)

Being an immortal gives one a sense of wisdom. Magnus being around for centuries gives him a Scholarly air about him. His kindness and willingness to still trust shows that he understands that history does indeed repeat itself and trust is met with trust. Because he has been there before and bought that T-shirt, he tends to believe everything repeats itself. While it’s good to have the wisdom of seeing patterns, he forgets that occasionally things go a different direction than expected. This makes it hard for him to share his past, due to other people’s reactions to it. Which in turn makes life harder than it had to be. Magnus understands why looking back is important, and also the importance of looking to the future. Finding his true love in a man whom history in a way repeats itself. While he never loved Will Herondale he loved his coloring, now over a hundred years later he finds Alec who has all of Wills beauty being his descendant on his sisters side. Swearing to never involved himself with shadowhunters again, only to fall in love with the boy whose parents he hated and almost had him killed in their youth. Karma works in mysterious ways. In the picture you see on the side table, the book of the white, chairman meow, and Woosley Scott’s snuff box. A clear representation of past present and future.

Upright: Creativity, exploring ones abilities, crafters hands, emerging talent

Reverse: Putting ones gift to ill use, unable to learn, No imagination

**The High Priestess **

Cristina Rosales ( The Believer )

Cristina was raised to be the woman behind a great man, only to become the queen set on a pedestal by many suitors. Even after the pain and hurt caused by all the men in her life she still opens herself to love. This girl is so much woman she needs two men to satisfy her, both seelie and unseelie with a dash of shadowhunter. Strong and deadly with her feminine wiles. Though she may forgive, she never forgets. As was shown with Perfect Diego and Jaime, both forgiven, both betrayals never forgotten. Cristina will give you a second chance, but if you break it you don’t get another one. This Princess of Roses will not be taken for a fool, things will be on her terms or nothing. In the picture you see her infamous butterfly knife pointing right at the black heart. Dressed as she was on her way to fairy with her two loves. In white going against shadowhunter tradition, as is her love life.

Upright: Great Knowledge, wise beyond years, virtuous, a scholar

Reversed: Ignorance, false vision, holding back feelings

**The empress**

Emma Carstairs (The Warrior)

A woman that shows the bloodlust isn’t just a mans realm. Anything you can do she can do better, and in heels. While her search for revenge blinds her to the world around her, she knows how to be the stable rock of a relationship whether its romantic or platonic. The only one worthy of her weapon, never taking no for an answer. Blood and scars are part of her, it’s how she shows her strength and commitment. While her recklessness can get her into trouble, she will not stop until she is the best. As the leader she knows that a good ruler is because of her subjects, and that her partner is there to make her stronger. The love she has for Julian being the only thing that could break her. In strength she even tried to push him away, for his own well being. In the picture you see Emma on a throne of her own as golden as her hair. While many blade sit behind her, only one is worthy enough to be in her hand, Cortana. Her un-lady like stance in the chair shows the air of “Wanna fight about it?”

Upright: Strong female figure, fertility, Maternal

Reversed: Infidelity, home strife, infertility

**The Emperor **

Julian Blackthorn (The artist)

As the silent leader of the family , Julian knows how to make the hard calls without ever showing it was him making them. While his secrets and tricks keep him and his family safe, his constant control of everything around him can come undone in a instant and he knows it. Always the man with the plan. Julian’s ruthless heart can blind him into making poor choices, but his gentle mercy is a soothing balm that no one can turn down while in pain. Forced fatherhood hasn’t dampened him, it’s only made him stronger. Emma by his side showed his unwavering loyalty and how choosing a female Parabatai never made him a weaker man. Even his romantic love for Emma showed strength , the only thing that could make him lose all his self control. Never allowing anyone, even the law stand in his way of what he wanted. For a bad law is no law for the Blackthorn family. Julian in the picture is on a throne showing his position, with paint smeared and thrown carelessly. Showing that even those in power don’t always run the tidy ship. The belt buckle of the ram shows his stubbornness at his center.

Upright: Strong male figure, leadership, ambition, accomplishing something

Reversed: Weakness, indecision, incompetent

**The Hierophant**

Brother Zachariah (The Silent Brother)

A magical man of the cloth. Brother Zachariah traded death for life and knows sacrifice in an intimate way. Never truly changing completely on either side, his love for his parabatai and former fiancée never waver. Both his love and his form are arrested through time. Though the feelings are dulled by magic, they never truly fade. All the while learning the trades and traditions of the Silent brothers, giving him abilities and an outlook that others can’t see or comprehend. The wise one in the room. As a former addict himself he can never give up that which brings him joy, whether it’s Tessa, Will, or his violin. In the picture you see him sitting with his fingers entwines together, the mortal sword leaning against him and a skull to his right side. The skull representing his long dead parabatai Will Herondale, and the sword that makes Shadowhunter’s Tell the truth and delivering justice. Yet it’s leaning.. not directly in his palms. While Brother Zachariah believes the truth is always better, that doesn’t exactly apply to himself.

Upright: Divine, mercy, conformity, Controlling spiritual needs

Reversed: Unorthodox, poor advice, Impotence

**The lovers **

Magnus & Alec /Jace & Clary (Love)

So many types of love between these four. A twisted web of love in its purest form. Two Parabati with their partners. While Alec isn’t Magnus’s first love, he is his first shadow hunter love. The first person where marriage was an option, the only one to convince him to have children and build a real life with an actual family. Alec like most shadow hunters found his love and is sticking to it. Head over heels for the bad boy his parents never wanted for him, yet he is absolutely perfect for him. Young and old fit together neatly in a relationship neither of them have ever experienced. Bring each others firsts in so many new and exciting ways. Angels and Demons coming together in a love deeper than the realms of hell themselves. Alec’s light and dark co-mingling with Magnus’s in a Yin and Yang that finds perfect balance. Clary and Jace were touched by angels, drawing them together regardless of circumstance. Their blood singing the siren song of forbidden love, even that couldn’t keep them apart. Obstacles at every step of the way, first the possible brother/sister issue, then the magical ensorcellment, then the heavenly fire roaring in Jace’s veins. No matter how large the problem, they get through it together. Always finding a way when no path is presented, they make their own. It wouldn’t be the first time a deep love mingled between a Herondale and a Fairchild. In the picture you see both of the couples embracing. Clary and Jace facing each other, holding the other up. While Magnus holds Alec from the back, having his back always, eyes closed in a comforting bliss.

Upright: Love, Passion, union, romance, harmony

Reversed: Conflict, separation, divided.

**The Chariot**

Mark Blackthorn (The Changeling )

Mark was never just one thing, he always had a foot in both worlds. One with the Shadowhunters, and one in Fairy. Longing for the stars and winds of the skies of fairy, homesick for the family that loved him all his life. A born protector to all he loves. Self discovery showed him how his love was not just a single trunk, but all the branches that came along with it, and with that the knowledge that he could have it all. Not wanting to choose, but to have everything he wanted was a struggle worth the burden. Allowing his differences be the reason that he shines. Eyes dual colored for both the worlds he belonged, two worlds, two loves, both within reach. Both worlds bringing him Bliss as well as torment. Shadowhunting meant he would never truly be excepted because of his fairy blood, his bisexuality also driving their acceptance further away. The runes call to his blood, the fight within him singing to rid the world of demons as his mandate. Marks family never wavering in their love for him no matter the circumstances. Fairy being equally as cruel for stealing his childhood, torturing him physically and mentally for his being a half blood. Finding love and wonder in his lover Kieran. The freedom of the hunt, the ability to feel what he wanted to feel without prejudice. Mark Blackthorn has the ability to change his direction to what suits him best, driving his life forward in the way of true happiness. In the picture you see him with two dogs of the hunt, by his side and fierce as he is with his bow and arrow. Fairy clothes and runes both adorning his body showing his dual life.

Upright: A Journey to new places, boldly venturing into the unknown

Reversed: Ruined plans, bad strategy

**Justice**

Jace Herondale (The Angel)

The golden Ichor that inflamed his veins as a child changed our hero. From his golden eyes to his unwavering abilities that go far beyond normal Shadowhunter standard. The law is hard, but it’s the law. While Jace finds loopholes and ways to have the law work in his favor, he never truly breaks it. A true believer in his mandate to rid the world of demons and their ilk. Even being disgusted by the very idea that he might have been tainted with demon blood was almost to much for him to bare. Wielding a blade to protect innocent and good, his wit and charm are the only equal to his deadly prowess. Jace knows their is more than one way to fight, more than one way to win a battle. The perfect soldier, born and bred to fight for the angel. Special talents only equal to his girlfriend, who also shares his angel blood. Pure love drives his motivations, for both Clary and his Parabatai Alec. Finding family in both of them, being a good brother and partner above all else. Even being raised in evil, his natural good nature shines through... even if it is tipped with sarcasm. In the picture you see him as an angel, as Clary drew him in her sketchbook. A lion to his side showing he is the king of the jungle, the alpha male with a golden mane to rule his pride and bring order around him.

Upright: Balance, Strong sense of self, Fairness

Reversed: Poor character, abuse, taking sides, biased.

**The Hermit**

Tiberius Blackthorn (The genius)

Even being born into the world with a twin, Ty has always had a sense of loneliness. Of feeling separate. Everything is to intense, too colorful, too loud, too much! Autism isn’t something known in the Shadow world, and because of that it’s looked at as set apart. Just because Ty is different, doesn’t mean he is condemned. Seeing the world through special eyes, seeing what others don’t. Drawn to routine, study, and Sherlock Holmes he finds a way to exist in this world of chaos with the help of his trusty headphones blaring Classical music. While he loves his twin more than the world itself, he still only found solace in Kit Rook. Someone who never saw him as anything but awe inspiring. An instant connection in a world of constant rejection. While Ty likes to be alone, he most wants to be alone with someone else in the room. No real interaction, just having them there so they can be alone together. In the picture you see the books stacked, the only one you can read is the codex, meaning the rules and tradition plays a large part in this reading. But it’s not the first book, while it’s in the mix many other tomes and knowledge comes before that. The moth in the corner shows transformation and signs of change. While not as exquisite as a butterfly, it has its own beauty that is unique all on its own.

Upright: Solitude, Exile, Out cast, seeming alone time, Secrecy, Hidden knowledge

Reverse: Social, At one with the community, seeking friends or love

**The Wheel Of Fortune**

Luke and Jocelyn (The Destined)

Lovers finally coming full circle. They have a tendency to get in their own way, assume things that are not true. Selflessness kept them apart for to long, finally coming full circle they find what’s always been there, love and eachother. Both seduced by the same man, both seeing him for what he was around the same time. Their minds were always on the same brain wave, and even long believed prejudice couldn’t keep them from the other. Luke would follow her anywhere, and Jocelyn could find him even if he didn’t want to be found. The circle brought them together, just for them to go full circle back to eachother. Forever destined, the angel and the wolf. In the picture you see Jocelyn above Luke, on the pedestal in which he placed her. The circle behind them both representing their start and end. The runes on their arms were the connection tunes between downworlder and shadowhunter. The runes on the circle are angelic power, strength, and voyance.

Upright: Fortune, chance, Fate, destiny

Reversed:Unfortunate events, unexpected results

**Strength**

Charlotte Branwell (The leader)

The first female consul, the pillar of strength in the London institute and enclave. Even being referred to as “the gray mare is the better horse in that race.” While her husband placed himself below her, he is not threatened by her. Henry loves that his wife is in charge and running everything around him, taking the pressure off of him so that he can follow his dreams. Charlotte would never cast out anyone who had no place to go, regardless of her opinion of them. While her build is small and birdlike, most people forget that about her because she demands the room. A personality and sense of authority that makes her appear six feet tall. In the picture she stand between two pillars. She is her own pillar of her community, standing between the other two that hold up her people. The law and protecting the world from evil. While she upholds both, she also stands between them understanding that there are gray areas in this world of black and white.

Upright: Strength, Endurance, power from within yourself.

Reverse: Weakness, defeat, surrender

**The hanged man**

Will Herondale (The cursed man)

Will thought himself to be cursed by the demon his father kept in his study. The demon killed his sister with a sting and then lied and tricked him, making him believe he couldn’t let anyone love him or they would die. This caused him to push everyone away, except Jem. Jem was the exception because he was already fated to die, so Will believed the curse wouldn’t touch him. This belief made him secretive, a liar, and secluded him from all around him. That was until Tessa came into his life and gave him purpose to try to rid himself of the curse that was never actually on him. Five years of self hatred did it’s damage, with Jem and Tessa being the only chance for redemption. Magnus, a Warlock, his only means to find out the truth, changing a young mind about the down world forever. In the picture you see Will upside down twisted in shadow, invisible bonds that keep him in place, but don’t actually exist or have actual power to keep him bound, only his own belief that they do is what keeps him trapped.

Upright: Opportunities missed, keeping ones self in indecision, letting time pass by

Reversed: Wasting time, lack of progress, feeling stalled

**Death**

Johnathan Morgenstern ( Death)

A boy who didn’t even have a chance before his own birth. Damned to be a soulless being before even feeling love and light. His own father created him this way, and he resented him from keeping any chance of redemption open for him. Evil was natural, and while Love was not lost on him it was tainted. An unnatural love for his own sister, a longing to keep what is his in his own mind. Feeling possession over people, forcing them to love and accept him. Deep down inside is the real boy, the good shadowhunter that never got to thrive. In a constant cycle of change and transformation. Conceived innocent, transformed with demon powders in gestation, shaped and molded in childhood, finally to die and see the spark of what could have been. Johnathan is all about changing one thing into another, moving forward, becoming better. In the picture you see him holding the infernal cup, the very thing that is change. The instrument that makes the endarkend. You see his sword on his hip with 4 stars lining the hilt, four being a magical number (example 4 seasons, four stages of life etc.) also he’s wearing his bracelet that reminds him of whom he is, keeps him grounded. Skeletal creatures surround him because eventual death surrounds him (or the death of plans). Red blood spatters the card, red being a scared color for supernatural, spiritual, or in shadowhunter culture to bring an enchantment down.

Upright: Change, metamorphosis, loss, end of ways.

Reversed: Bad situations, turbulent change.

**Temperance**

Jem Carstairs (The musician)

The addict, Wills own cracked mirror, Tessa’s second love. While Jem has his own problems, he tends to be the one people lean on. While he is this driving force in the back of his mind, he wants others to come first. Not really an optimist, but a realist. Instead of growing bitter over his parents deaths and his forced addiction, he chooses to see the bright side of it. Because of those things he found Will, he found Tessa. Two driving forces in his life that supersede the Yin Fen. Bringing balance to all their lives regardless of timeline. His love for Tessa and Will are equal in strength. Having the patience and dedication to love Will, even when Will pushes everyone away. Giving Tessa his energy and deep caring, his music and combining of both Bass and Treble as shown in the picture. Also in the picture is poppies, a death flower, which Jem is always on the brink of. While his violin is pictured close to his heart (Tessa) the bow that makes the sound ring out is by his side (Will). Neither of any real use without the other, and both useless without Jem.

Upright: Patience, Balance, Channeling ones energy, combining elements to make something new

Reversed: conflict, bad combinations, excess

**The Devil**

Valentine (The Zelot)

Valentine was not always the evil man he became, he was once the good son. Much like the devil he fell from grace after his father was killed by werewolves. Thus starting the natural obsession inside him to seek revenge for his father and beginning his hatred of Downworld. With the charisma of a cult leader he did just that by establishing “The circle” bringing the best and brightest by his side to get his obsessions fed. Get in his way, and he will make sure you fall with him. He is not without love or even loyalty, but like his son he sees those he created as possessions. Things that belonged to him. Jace was his perfect soldier, even mourning him after he knew he couldn’t keep him around and stabbed him. Clary, his daughter who can create runes because of his experimentation. Valentine did everything he could think of to bring her closer to him, even fooling her and Jace into thinking they were brother and sister. Jocelyn was his wife in his mind regardless of where she was or how long they had been apart, her hatred for him was temporary in his mind, she would come around eventually or so he thought. In the picture you see him holding the mortal cup, his key to his obsession. The chains surround him, even one choking him. One gold, one black, one silver. Mortals, Downworld, and shadowhunters. The Downworld being the one choking him, for Magnus stated that he and other warlocks were chained to this life by a chain of gold. His hatred for them was his downfall.

Upright: Oppression, material bondage, obsessive desires, evil fantasies.

Reversed: Unwavering pursuit, greed, mind control

**The Tower**

Isabelle & Alec Lightwood (The soldiers)

Here we have the two eldest of the lightwoods, strong as they face danger, both extremely and deeply damaged as siblings. Alec, afraid of his own sexual identity. Always feeling like the one left behind, never destined to shine. His father making his home life a cage, suffocating him with the mold of what a true nephilim should be. Izzy, a born warrior that’s terrified of commitment. Love is to make yourself weak in her eyes. Men are below her and would only step on her toes. Her mother damaged her by sharing adult problems with a child. Telling her of her fathers infidelity, making her lose faith in love and commitment. Both born into greatness only to fall because of personal issues. Yet if hey fall, they fall together. Always having the others back. In the picture you see Alec behind his sister, where every man in her life is placed. Alec sees it as having her back Incase of danger. Alec at the ready with a crossbow, Izzy while having her whip I hand does not have it out to strike as Alec does. Izzy is winking at the viewer, letting us know her place. The church in the background is being struck by lightning right at the cross, showing how both their faith was shaken.

Upright: Abrupt change, Accident or Loss, Ruin, traumatic event, upheaval.

Reverse: redundancy in life, unable to break patterns in life, sad events.

**The Star**

Tessa Gray (The masked)

Tessa was not aware of the circumstances of her birth, believing she was a mundane for the beginning of her life. Only to find out that she was the daughter of a Prince of Hell, a greater Eidolon Demon, and an unmarked shadow hunter. With the help of a spirit of an angel locked in her mothers necklace she was able to be born into this world as a new race entirely, not quite warlock, not quite shadowhunter. Her ability to shapeshift unlike any seen before her, the ability to connect with the persons soul through objects. All the while being able to flip through their memories unknowing to them. Always trying to break from control. Mortmain, her brother, the dark sisters, the clave, all trying to control her in some way. Escaping into novels to keep her inner demons at bay. Doing everything she can to seize control of her own life, even if it meant giving it up. She would be no ones puppet, she is her own and belongs to herself. Taking her new found gifts and trying her best to turn the darkness inside her around and use it for good. In the picture you see Tessa I’m a veil, masking her true face to navigate the world while still holding onto it and herself. Black and white stars around her, good and evil, truth and lies, and she remains in the middle with the veil staying gray. The clockwork angel the only thing unmasked about her.

Upright: Hope, a sign of good things, fulfillment in life’s pleasures.

Reversed: Doubting ones ability, stale creativity.

**The moon**

Maia Roberts & Jordan Kyle ( The lycanthropes)

A tempestuous relationship, not born to last. As the moon sets every night these two had their time only for it to be cut short. While death intimately took Kyle, Maia was close to ending things before that even happened except death beat her to it. While she loved Kyle, she knew like the phases of the moon they are ruled under that things had to change. Maia needed her own space to become a pack leader, and Jordan would have kept her as a Beta when she was a born Alpha. Jordan didn’t want to see it, all he could see was a wrong he did and the need to fix it. Him being the reason she was changed in the first place. Joining the Prater Lupus to become worthy of her love and regiment himself into someone better. Jordan wanted to help, wanted to mend, not seeing that you shouldn’t try to fix what’s not broken in the first place. Trying to convince himself that his relationship was working, that all his atonement was worth the struggle. You see them in the picture facing eachother on a bed. Maia looking at the viewer, while Jordan is fixed on Maia herself. The wolves above them showing their changing shapes, yet Maia’s is higher than Jordan’s and has the look of a leader. Jordan’s is panting and below her awaiting to follow.

Upright: brainwashing, dark influences, trickery, illusion, subconscious control

Reverse: avoiding reality, lies and despair, strange forces, delusional

**The sun**

Simon Lewis (The daylighter)

Simon, being the only person alive knowing what it’s like to live in the three different societies. First a mundane, then a daylighting vampire, then a shadowhunter. Simon has this way of fitting into each as if he were born to it, not without hard work. Clary’s best friend and Parabatai, Simon always finds a way to save the day. Whether it’s coffee and comics, or giving up your immortality in a demon realm to save everyone you love, Simon always makes things better. The only man to tame the reckless heart of Izzy Lightwood. The one who brought the Dregs and Elites at the academy together. The one to win Clary’s eternal love (platonically). Wherever Simon is, he belongs. The only one who doesn’t know that... is him. In the picture he is where he was always meant to be even though he was a vampire once, the sunlight.

Upright: successful social relationships, friendship, engagement, happy times and pure joy.

Reversed: separation, loneliness, unstable relationship

**Judgement**

Livia Blackthorn (The protector)

The other more femme half of the Blackthorn twins. Everything her twin lacks she’s has in spades, as is the reverse. Growing up knowing her brother was a slightly different kind of shadowhunter, Livvy always stood by his side and acted as his personal bodyguard. Willing to even slay her eldest brother to protect him. Livvy wants the best for everyone, she wants everyone to be happy. From wanting to set her brother Julian up, to giving up a possible romance due to her brother having more of a bond to said possible romance partner. She just wants everyone to get what they deserve, even if it’s death. Even her death. She didn’t want to be brought back, but she saw how much her brother needed her. So instead of punishing him away she stayed. She would make sure his dreams were fulfilled so that he could possibly live without her one day, something she should have done in life. In truth she knows that may never happen, while it’s a win for Ty... it’s a punishment for her. In the picture you see Livia in the dress she was buried in. Her trusty saber behind her back just Incase justice is to be served once more, or ty needs back up. Three blades are in the picture for what I interpret as past, present, and future.

Upright: accountability for ones actions, new beginnings, awakening

Reversed: guilty feelings, fearful of death, worry, delay, fear.

**The World**

Clary Fray (the creator)

Growing up thinking she was mundane, clary has grown and fought her way to shadow hunter hero. Clary went from drawing pictures, to creating runes not of the gray book to make her race stronger. Stubborn and small, strong and reckless. She wants to prove that she is more than she seems and always seems to find her way coming full circle. The center of the mortal instruments saga and of the world of her boyfriend Jace. Both with extra angel blood singing in their veins, drawn together by heaven itself. This pocket sized vixen is going to make her mark, or rune on the world. In the picture you see her with a falcon on one side and a lioness on the other. The falcon representing Jace, always by her side and equally as deadly. Sitting on the lioness as it represents herself. The woman in the pack that is more vicious than the man, the one who brings home the prey and takes it down.

Upright: completion of a cycle or journey, triumph, good outcome over adversity, hard fought victory.

Reverse: frustration, incomplete endeavors, failed projects.

64 notes · View notes

nooowestayandgetcaught · 4 years

Note

1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10 11 12 17 25

1) what was your first fandom?

I guess it was Harry Potter! I mean I loved Sailor Moon in middle school though and we would play Sailor Moon in the gym at the after school program! They wanted me to be Sailor Mercury because nobody liked her,,,,,, joke’s on those bitches because Ami is fucking tight as hell 💙💙💙

2) what’s your most recent fandom?

I started creeping back into ATLA but not fully. I am currently and specifically trying to play around in the Buffy The Vampire Slayer fandom.

3) are there any fandoms you joined without meaning to?

A lot of them. BBC Merlin was a big one. I watched the chaos of 5x13 unfold and I was intrigued by the idea of the finale being set in modern day (I really like Arthurian legend stuff! and that’s a neat angle to go for!) so I found a watch link for 5x13 and skipped around having watched no episodes ever and saw Merlin clutching Arthur and I was like gay????? gaAyYYyYY????? awww they gay and then I saw the ending was like 10 seconds of modern day and I was disappointed. So I didn’t bother until like a few months later. But that’s an even longer story considering hospitalization and me being in pain 24/7.

4) are there any fandoms you’ve wanted to join for a long time?

I really like to get into Shadowhunters but I gotta get into The Untamed and Killing Eve first. I’m excited about checking those out.

6) which fandom is your favorite to create fanworks for?

Really depends on what is being active. Gotta get that validation.

8) which fandom do you have the most ideas for?

REALLY DEPENDS ON WHAT ME IS BEING ACTIVE ABOUT.

9) do you prefer fandoms of tv shows, movies, books, or some other medium?

I don’t care. I love whatever my brain wants to hyperfixate on.

10) do you wear merch for any fandoms? is it obvious merch (with the title/logo) or subtle (like the main character’s favorite backpack)?

Nope.

11) out of all your fandoms, which two would make the best crossover?

I would enjoy a genuine crossover of IT and Stranger Things,,, I’m not gonna lie. But like only the kids/teenagers though. It would be fun and hilarious.

12) out of all your fandoms, which premise (plot/worldbuilding) is your favorite?

It seems like the longer a series goes on,,, the more of a chance it is to turn into garbage,,,,,,

17) what’s your favorite trope from the fanworks of [insert fandom here]?

I will always read Hurt/Comfort and Whump in any fandom. No joke.

25) if you could take creative control of one fandom’s source material, to fix previous canon and decide future arcs as you see fit, which one would you choose? what would you change?

Like literally everything I watch. I would make it GAYER.

#ask #spookywitchnerd24

2 notes · View notes

maiaisbia · 5 years

Note

Clizzy and 38!

"Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait"

Thank you so much @heronstairslover! Here are five times Izzy and Clary were mistaken as a couple, and one time they acted on their feelings. I have no idea where this fits in canon, so it is technically canon divergent in a slightly softer, more Valentine free world, with slightly sooner Maryse redemption. from this prompt list | on ao3

| Maia |

Clary leaned against the bar, trying to catch the pretty bartender’s eye. It didn’t take long, and the young woman leaned on the other side, eyes flicking over Clary’s face. Clary couldn’t help a blush at the attention.

“Ah, I was wondering if I could get a cider?” Clary said, and suddenly hoped she wouldn’t be carded. The shadow world seemed to have a different idea of what the legal drinking age was, but there was always the chance-

“Sure thing, we have a pumpkin one for the fall?”

Clary let out the breath she was holding. “That’d be great!”

The bartender walked down to a little fridge, returning to open the cider and pour it carefully into a beer glass. “I’m Maia, by the way,” she said.

“Clary.”

“New recruit?” Maia asked, as she put down a coaster and slid the drink across.

“Something like that,” Clary reached into her purse, setting her wallet on the bar. “How much do I owe you?”

“How about your number-” Maia’s words cut off as Clary felt the familiar weight Izzy’s arm around her shoulders. “Ah.”

“Watcha got there?” Izzy asked, taking the cider and sipping it before making a face. “I hate pumpkin.”

Clary laughed at Izzy’s adorable expression. “Well it’s my drink! Maia was just-”

“Nothing, nothing,” Maia waved a hand as if to clear the air. “I know not to step on someone else’s territory.” She winked, and Clary grew hot.

“Oh Izzy and I-”

“You’re drinks on the house, but only this once,” Maia said, and gave Clary one last wistful smile before turning towards Izzy. “Your usual?”

“Please,” Izzy was still hanging off Clary, and pressed her cheek against Clary’s hair.

Clary was left sipping her cider and wondering if Izzy had realized Maia had mistaken them as a couple. As much as that set cliched butterflies in her stomach, Clary didn’t want to lose Izzy’s friendship so she didn’t want to bring attention to it. If Izzy didn’t want to acknowledge it, then Clary wouldn’t either.

| Simon |

“Clary, Clary!” Simon ran down the Institute hallway, skidding to a stop in front of her. His hands moved all around letting Clary know he was very excited about something.

“Simon, woah,” Clary laughed, and walked to her room. Simon followed after her. “What’s up?”

“I need your help,” Simon said, flopping on her bed as if they just finished a day of highschool and not the reality that they were graduated and now deep in a secret society.

“Okay,” Clary prompted, moving to her desk and picking up one of her little sketchbooks. She always thought better if her hands had something to do.

“I want to ask out this girl,” Simon was hanging upside down off the end of the bed. Before he’d been turned, this would have his glasses falling to the floor. Clary felt a pang for that simpler time.

“And you want my help?” Clary asked, confused, and chewed on the end of her pencil.

“Your advice,” Simon said. “I assume you know how, considering you and Izzy-”

“Wait a moment,” Clary stood up, crossing the room to sit in front of Simon. “Izzy and I aren’t dating.”

“You aren’t?” Simon’s forehead scrunched. Clary poked it, but she guessed he didn’t need to worry about getting wrinkles.

“No,” Clary said, and hoped he didn’t notice her blushing. But this was Simon.

“I thought, well, since you’re always training together and you usually go out together and take your meals together,” Simon said, counting off on his fingers. “And you hold hands and you share clothes and you’ve drawn her all over that sketchbook.”

Clary quickly closed the book. “We’re just friends!” And then she shoulders sagged.

“But you want to date her,” Simon said in a whisper, glancing toward the closed door. He sighed. “Well I see you’re going to be no help with this. But maybe I can help you? Izzy clearly likes you.”

Clary shook her head, “No I’m not her type.”

Simon didn’t look convinced. “How sure are you about that?”

| Lightwood brothers |

“I’ve called this family meeting-” Jace began.

Alec and Max rolled their eyes in the exact same way and Izzy tried to hide a giggle. Jace just glared. They were seated at a far table, just the four of them, tucked away from the other shadowhunters.

“Hey, this is serious,” Jace said, before stuffing a bite of waffle in his face. Izzy snagged some of his bacon and one of his strawberries, because she’d already finished hers.

“I’m listening,” Izzy promised.

“And it required the toll of my bacon?” Jace asked, mouth full.

Alec made a face. Max stole some of Alec’s bacon while looking Izzy dead in the eye. She nodded her approval. Younger siblings’ privilege.

“I don’t have time for this,” Alec muttered, but dug into his eggs, signalling he wasn’t actually going anywhere. “And I’m not forgiving you for calling me in early. Magnus can summon a much better breakfast than this.”

“This is why we need a family meeting!” Jace said, waving his fork around. “We haven’t all talked in what feels like forever. You and Izzy both need to update us on how your relationships are going.”

Izzy frowned, the light, silly atmosphere suddenly awkward to her. “I’m not dating anyone.” All three of her brothers turned to stare at her. She stared back.

“Wait, you’re not dating Clary?” Alec asked.

“What? No,” Izzy said, though she wasn’t offended. Instead she felt a tug in her heart at the idea, but knew it was for nothing.

“That makes no sense,” Max said, shaking his head. “I saw her leaving your room this morning.”

Izzy blushed. “She’d just come in early to borrow a dress.”

“Isn’t it a couple thing to share clothes?” Jace asked, then reached over to tug on the shirt Alec is wearing, that was clearly one of Magnus’; a lovely, slightly shiny, dark green button up. “Exhibit A.”

Izzy frowned, because she didn’t know if she could express how much she longed that Jace was right. She sometimes borrowed Clary’s jackets or sweaters because they would still smell like her. Might as well be honest. “We’re just friends and it’s killing me. God, do you know how hot she is when we spar?” She pushed her plate away and dramatically rested her head on the table. “And she’s so talented with her art!”

“Change in the family meeting agenda,” Jace declared, then lowered his voice. “Operation Clary Fairchild needs to be planned.”

Izzy listened as for the rest of breakfast, her well meaning brothers argued the best way to let Clary know about Izzy’s feelings.

| Luke |

“Hey kiddo, you know you can tell me anything,” Luke said, as he walked with Clary along the river. Neither of them had any real reason to be there, but could excuse it as patrol. Clary was a little sad that this was the best way to see her dad, but they had both been so busy.

“I know,” Clary said, her breath visible in front of her. “And I’m pretty sure I tell you just about everything.” She nudged him with her elbow, smiling up, and keeping her hands deep in her pockets. “I have to keep some teenage secrets though.”

They were silent for a moment, just the sounds of the murky water and their footsteps. Then Luke said, “Can I ask about when you and Miss Isabella Lightwood got together?”

Clary startled. “What?”

“I know you might want to keep your relationship on the downlow, I just want to make sure you’re being safe,” Luke continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Just because you both-”

“Izzy and I aren’t dating,” Clary said, quickly. “And you don’t need to give me the talk. Again. Google is a thing.”

Luke stopped walking, hand going out to rest on Clary’s arm. “I’m sorry. Did you and Izzy break up?”

“What?” Clary said again, then sighed deeply, remembering her conversation with Simon earlier that week. “We haven’t dated and aren’t currently dating.”

Luke raised both eyebrows and gave her his best unimpressed dad face. “Clary, I don’t know who needs to tell you, but it sure looks like you’re dating. Do you like her?”

“Yes,” Clary started walking again, needing the movement. “And no, I haven’t told her. She’s just… brilliant and gorgeous and strong... I can’t imagine her liking me back the way I like her.”

“You are also those things,” Luke said.

“You’re my dad, you are legally required to think that,” Clary chuckled. “As a cop, you should be familiar with that law.” Chewing her lip and thinking for a moment, she added. “It would be nice to talk about it though.”

“Gush about your crush, I’m all ears,” Luke said, smiling over at her.

“Hi all ears, I’m daughter,” she said and stuck her tongue out as Luke nearly doubled over laughing.

| Maryse |

It is still odd, and sad, to see her mother without her runes. Izzy was tentative about building a better relationship, but she decided she was going to follow Alec’s lead. If Maryse did anything to hurt Alec again, or Jace or Max, Izzy wouldn’t stand for it, but so far she seemed to genuinely want to change.

Izzy’s righteous anger from her childhood was almost snuffed out completely as her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. Maryse pulled back and smiled at Izzy, resting a hand briefly on her cheek. Then her eyes grew a little worried. “Isabelle, have you been sleeping alright?”

Izzy wasn’t going to tell her mother that no, sleep had been hard lately because she was pining after a certain fire-haired shadowhunter. She shook her head. “I’m fine, just been busy.”

Maryse doesn’t look convinced and brought Izzy further into the little bookshop someone had set her up with (Luke? Magnus? Izzy wasn’t sure). Maryse sat them both down in surprisingly comfortable chairs, some coffee and cookies already set out.

Izzy gratefully took a mug and used it to keep her hands still. It was getting cold out, and she forgot to put on the gloves that Clary had gifted her.

“Izzy, I’m worried about you,” Maryse said, hand reaching out to rest on her arm. “Trying to keep your relationship with Clary secret can’t be good for either of you.”

Izzy froze, and wondered if Jace had put their mother up to this. It didn’t seem like something he would do… “Clary and I aren’t dating.”

Maryse looked more worried. “Isabelle, darling you know you can always be honest with me. I haven’t always been the best mother in the past, but I want to make that up.”

Izzy shook her head, huffing a sigh. “No, Mom honestly, Clary and I really aren’t dating.”

Maryse looked confused. “Are you sure?”

“Yes?” Izzy said. “We’ve never talked about my… feelings for her.”

“Well why not? She seems very nice, if a bit reckless,” Maryse moved her hand away.

“I don’t think she likes me the same way I like her,” Izzy said, and almost jumped when Maryse laughed.

“Darling…” Maryse shook her head. “Even I can see that isn’t true.”

| +1 |

Clary rested against the headboard of Izzy’s bed, sketchbook propped in her lap. Izzy’s head was resting on Clary’s shoulder. Izzy knew to be careful and not bump Clary’s arm. The laptop Clary had placed at the end of the bed played the Great British Bake Off. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to show what baking could look like to Izzy, and there had already been some science experiments. But it was the most relaxing way to spend a night off from patrols.

“You sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” Clary asked, glancing at Izzy.

“Would you be joining me?” Izzy asked back, looking between her phone and the show. They’d already watched this season.

“No, I want to get some work finished,” Clary said, looking at the comic page she had managed to sketch out. She wasn’t sure the panels were quite right for the story’s pacing though.

“Then nope, I want to to stay right here,” Izzy smiled at her, and Clary wondered if her own expression gave away doomed she was over Izzy.

“Okay,” Clary couldn’t stop her responding smile, and moved a little closer to Izzy. The chatter of the contestants on the show and the scratch of Clary’s pencil were the only sounds for a long moment.

“Something weird happened to me this week,” Izzy said, and Clary could hear the little quiver of nerves in Izzy’s voice. Otherwise it was Izzy’s strong voice, the one she used when directing a patrol on how to corner a demon.

Clary set her notebook aside, turned so that she was facing Izzy. They were probably too close, but Clary couldn’t bring herself to move away. Izzy had put her phone aside, but she was staring at her lap. “What happened?” Clary asked.

“Well… my family… um,” Izzy shifted and sat up straighter. Her hair was in a messy bun and Clary reached to tuck a fallen strand behind Izzy’s ear. Izzy gently took the hand, and moved to hold it in her lap like a lifeline. “There is no easy way to say this.”

“Is everything okay?” Clary asked, trying to think of what horrors Izzy could be this nervous about talking about.

“Ah,” Izzy bit her lip and Clary couldn’t help it has her eyes followed the movement. “They think we’re dating.”

Clary felt like her ears were full of fluff. That couldn’t be… “They think you and I are dating?” Clary had to repeat it to be sure.

Izzy nodded, “Jace brought it up last week, and then when I saw my mom yesterday…”

Clary searched Izzy’s face, trying to gage what the other shadowhunter was feeling. Smiling again at what she saw, Clary said, “Simon and Dad actually both asked me something similar.”

Izzy’s mouth fell open in surprise, but then it turned onto a shy smile. Clary knew that Izzy was very good at seduction skills, but maybe this was different, what they had here in the warmth and safety of this moment.

Clary hardly noticed as they both leaned forward. Kissing Izzy was like coming home, a final puzzle piece sliding into place. When they pulled away, Clary whispered, “You should have told me we were dating.”

“And you should have told me!” Izzy chuckled back, before pulling Clary close and kissing her again. “I have a lot of these to make up for.”

Clary could only hum in agreement as Izzy climbed into her lap and got to work making up for lost time.

#clizzy #clary fairchild #clary fray #izzy lightwood #isabelle lightwood #my fic #maia roberts #luke garroway #maryse lightwood #lightwood sibs #simon lewis

34 notes · View notes

kuiinncedes · 3 years

Text

#lmao i'm just thinking about it since people are doing posts of their fics for the klaine fic awards #i mean #i got 4 🤪 3 of which are under 600 words lmaoo #i guess my shadowhunter one fits for hurt/comfort #but also i don't feel worthy with all the other amazing authors 😂#who actually write mainly klaine too lol #and not in .... somewhat obscure ish aus #anyway idk just throwing it out there i guess i genuinely don't expect that anyone would want to nominate me tho lol #anyway i gotta figure out how i'm like .. re-finding my nominations 😂#since i don't have any organization to fics i read klsdhglsfj #stfu jeanne #why am i .... like i feel like it would be totally fine for me to make a post like other people have #but even just thinking about it i don't want to do it lskdgjksfdls #like i sorta want to bc i ... crave attention 😂#but i also don't idkkk anywayyy

1 note · View note

banesapothecary · 6 years

Text

flufftober day 6: gift

made your mark on me (a golden tattoo)

read on ao3

It's been a long time since Alec was last in the Institute's chapel, he realizes. His almost wedding to Lydia that--thank god--ended in disaster when Magnus burst through the doors and into Alec’s heart in one fell swoop of a romantic gesture.

And now here they were, standing across from each other and adorned in gold. Alec had always known somewhere deep inside him that this was where they were meant to be, where they were meant to end up. It had taken them a while to get here, though, with Valentine and Jonathan and the world nearly ending in more ways than they can count over the last few years. But finally, finally, they were here in a chapel surrounded by blue and gold and love radiating off each other and their family.

Magnus squeezes Alec’s hands gently, and when he looks up, cat eyes meet his own and Alec knows Magnus is thinking the exact same thing.

“Magnus and Alec have chosen to write vows for each other,” the Silent Brother’s words echo through the room. Their words are always loud, echoing directly into your head, but something feels louder to Alec, more important. He squeezes Magnus’s hands back, grounding himself. “Who would like to go first?”

“I will,” Alec says, smiling. Earlier that week he'd insisted to Magnus that he needed to go first. “You're so eloquent and good with words, how am I supposed to follow that up?” Alec had pouted until Magnus agreed with an easy smile. Magnus had spent the rest of the evening kissing Alec's pout away.

“A long time ago, you came crashing into my world, and ruined my life,” he starts, earning a chuckle from the audience. “Or at least, what I thought my life was. I thought I had to be the perfect son, the perfect Shadowhunter, and that, for me, love would never fit into my plan,” he pauses and Magnus squeezes his hands again. Magnus’s eyes are wet when Alec meets them.

“But then you came along, and you destroyed that idea for me because how could I ever walk away from this, even at the beginning? I think a part of me always knew you were it for me, the one, and that's why you terrified me in the beginning. That's why I almost entered into a sham marriage that would've ruined three people's lives. In ruining what I thought was my life, you saved it, Magnus. You gave me a life worth living. You showed me what love is, what it can be, and there’s not a single day that goes by that you don’t make me feel loved. You tell me every day, but you show me, too. It’s in the coffee you have ready for me when I have to run out the door to the Institute. It’s in the way my alarm goes off early in the morning and you’re still asleep, but your arm tightens around me because you don’t want me to leave. It’s in the way your eyes brighten when you see me, no matter what, even when we’ve been fighting. You are my life, and I'm so thankful to whatever gods are out there for giving me you. You, Magnus Bane, are the best gift I have and could have for the rest of my life, and I vow to spend the rest of my life, whether it's a few decades or eternity, making you feel as loved as you do me.”

Alec breathes, finally. His eyes are wet but the tears haven’t spilled yet. He has a suspicion they won’t hold out for Magnus’s vows.

And Magnus. Magnus is looking up at him in awe, eyes full of tears as one escapes and slides down his cheek. Alec pulls his hand out of Magnus’s and wipes it away with his thumb. An “aww” sounds from the audience and suddenly Alec remembers it isn’t just the two of them in the chapel. He turns and looks out, finding his mother’s face full of tears, but with a wide smile. Alec smiles to himself when he notices Luke holding her hand.

“I guess I’m next,” Magnus breathes and Alec turns back to him. “And you said I have a way with words.” The crowd laughs.

“For years before I met you, almost a century, I’d closed myself off. I’d been hurt and ripped apart in love so many times before and I didn’t think I was strong enough to bear it any longer,” he breaks off quietly as Alec squeezes his hand, a look of love and maybe slight concern in his eyes. Magnus nearly laughs--his fiance, his very soon to be husband, trying to comfort him in the middle of their vows. Gods, he loves this man with everything he is.

“But then you stormed into my club on a mission and completely changed everything. I don’t know what it was, but you… Something about you made me want to fight for love again, to embrace it even with all its risks. So I decided to leave my loft and march into this Institute and into a wedding, and I haven’t looked back since. We aren’t perfect, Alexander. We’ve both made mistakes. But never once have I regret opening my heart to you.” He pauses, too many tears in his eyes to see properly. He blinks them away, smiling as Alec reaches up to swipe them away again.

“You said I’m the best gift you could ever receive. Great minds really must think alike,” he jokes, “because you are the best gift I could ever receive. In all my years--and we’re talking literal centuries here,” he says, more for the crowd than anyone else. “I have never met anyone like you, Alexander. You are patient and dedicated and loyal and so, so reverent in your love. You, Alexander, are everything I have ever dreamed of and hoped for, and more, and you always make me feel so incredibly loved, even when I feel like I don’t deserve it. So my vow to you is that I will always love you, and do everything in my power to show you how much you mean to me, because I don’t think I could ever fully express that in words.”

“I love you,” Alec whispers, just loud enough for Magnus to hear. I need to kiss you right now, he thinks. He looks at the Silent Brother, hoping he understands.

Maybe he does, because the rest of the ceremony goes by quickly, and when he finally announces them husbands, Alec feels as though he’s floating. He sees the same expression on Magnus’s face.

When their lips finally connect, it feels like coming home.

#malec fics #malec #shadowhunters #malec fanfic #flufftober #my fic

47 notes · View notes

katychan666 · 6 years

Text

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Magnus’ heart still hurt because he lost his position, but it was starting to get better, the pain was already milder, because even though he lost his previous position, he had other things in his life to look forward to.

My take on the continuation of the Malec scene at the Hunter’s Moon at the end of the episode. This does include some spoilers from the new episode.

The serious expression on Alec’s face suddenly softened up and a little, lopsided smile spread across his face, Magnus slowly looking up at him. Magnus wasn’t smiling, there was a little frown in between his eyebrows, doubt in his eyes and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Yes, he didn’t want Alec to leave and even though the young Shadowhunter expressed his wish of not to go to Alicante without him, the warlock still feared that Alec hadn’t decided about staying or going. Taking that job would be great for Alexander and his future, but it would break Magnus’ heart completely. He was already feeling crushed from having the position of High Warlock being taken away from him, so the thought of Alec leaving made his chest tighten.

Alec then simply leaned closer to him, eyes fluttering shut and connected their lips in a short, but sweet kiss. Magnus felt a little smile tugging at his lips after Alec pulled back, fingers wrapping tightly around the pool cue and he looked up at Alec, who was wearing a much wider smile on his face now. “I’m not going anywhere,” said Alec simply, the decision already made a long time ago. While it was true that it was his dream to live in Idris, some things and people were more important. Besides, he’d miss his friends in Idris and being away from Magnus would drive him insane. No job was worth that.

Finally, a bright smile spread across Magnus’ lips as well and he looked down, biting onto his lip to prevent himself from smiling too widely, his chest feeling warm, ready to burst with happiness. Alec, on the other hand, leaned back down again, to go back at playing the pool and Magnus quickly narrowed his eyes, placing a hand over Alec’s cue and he shook his head. “Hold your horses, Shadowhunter,” said Magnus playfully. “It’s still my turn,” he then added and Alec straightened himself up and gave the other little nod.

“Very well then,” said Alec and pulled back away from the pool table. “Show me what you’ve got,” said Alec, urging Magnus to a little battle and Magnus accepted the challenge, showing Alec exactly what he got, pushing four balls into the holes in a row and Alec just watched his boyfriend, jaw dropping and he narrowed his eyes. He thought that he was going to win, but he soon realised that he was going to be a loser. Again.

“Try to beat this, Alexander,” said Magnus after he missed pushing the fifth ball into the hole and turned around to face his boyfriend, waggling his eyebrows and Alec narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue and he went back to the pool table, leaning down. As he bent down and tried to focus on the game, Magnus stepped behind him and whistled silently, smiling deviously, enjoying the sight of Alec bent down like that. “What a view,” commented Magnus and Alec frowned, looking behind his back.

“What?” asked Alec, clueless to what Magnus was talking about.

“You should bend down a bit more… you’ll be more comfortable that way,” said Magnus, who was now just joking, but his jaw dropped when Alec actually listened to him and bent down a bit more, supporting himself on the table. Alec thought that Magnus was trying to help, but he should know better; Magnus and his dirty mind were having a completely different plan.

“Like this?”

“Perfect, darling,” said Magnus, his eyes travelling down Alec’s back, stopping on his other assets and he waggled his eyebrows. “You look amazing bent over like that,” he then added and Alec finally realised what the other had in mind and quickly lifted himself up, turned around and placed his hands over his backside.

“Magnus!” whined Alec, face red now and Magnus started laughing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Magnus in between his laughter and looked down, Alec huffing under his breath, but a smile spread across his lips as well when he saw the bright smile on Magnus’ face. He knew that that smile was genuine and not forced like the one before.

Magnus was leaned against the pool table and Alec came closer to him, place the cue onto it. No longer in the mood for playing – since he was going to lose anyway – Alec took the pool cue out of Magnus’ hands as well and placed it next to his, the warlock watching him with interest in his eyes and he sighed as Alec placed hands onto the table, trapping him between it and his own body. Magnus reached up with his hand, hugging the back of Alec’s neck and he pulled him down for another kiss, Alec softly gasping when Magnus kissed him again, more desperately and Alec pressed his lips together as he pulled back, knowing that Magnus still didn’t feel completely fine. But Alec knew that Magnus would take some time to accept how things were. Like Catarina said, being a warlock meant everything to him.

“I’m not in the mood for playing pool anymore,” commented Alec and Magnus hummed in amusement.

“That’s because you know you’re going to lose,” said Magnus, his voice teasing and Alec rolled his eyes.

“No,” he stated and looked down when he saw the ‘you’re-not-fooling-anyone’ look on Magnus’ face. “Well, fine, maybe you’re right, but,” said Alec and made a short pause, shrugging. “I just want to go somewhere else,” he then said and Magnus slowly nodded, because he too wished to go somewhere else.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” said Magnus after a while.

As they made their way out of the Hunter’s Moon, Magnus’ hand slowly found Alec’s and the Shadowhunter happily allowed Magnus to link their fingers, swinging their arms lightly as they walked. “So,” said Magnus and glanced at Alec. “Where are we going? It’s still a bit too early for us to return back home,” said Magnus and Alec shrugged.

“We can just walk around New York for a bit,” suggested Alec.

“Walking sounds good,” said Magnus and for the next few moments, the two of them spent completely in silence, walking hand-in-hand around, making their way to the park. While Alec was thinking of a way to spend the next day, Magnus felt his mind darkening again and he kept looking down.

The new High Warlock of Brooklyn was already named. Lorenzo Rey. His long life rival and he wrinkled his nose. He wouldn’t mind if someone else got the position – Catarina, for example – but having Lorenzo to be above him just filled his heart with uneasiness. He took great pride in being the High Warlock and now it was just taken away from him. Alec, who was in the middle of planning their next day, noticed that Magnus was wearing troubled expression on his face, Magnus’ hand gripping onto Alec’s and the hunter stopped walking.

“Magnus,” said Alec softly. “Hey, look at me,” he said and Magnus snapped out of his thinking and he looked back up, frowning. When did they stop walking? “Are you okay?”

“No,” said Magnus and gritted his teeth. He wanted to appear cheerful since they were out on a date, but he couldn’t. “The new High Warlock of Brooklyn had already been chosen,” he grumbled and Alec sighed, placing his hands on top of Magnus’ shoulders, who was chewing on his lower lip now. “Lorenzo Rey,” he then said, almost spitting out the guy’s name and Alec narrowed his eyes, because he could sense a lot of hostility as Magnus said that name.

“Lorenzo Rey?” asked Alec and Magnus slowly looked back up at him. “Sounds like a bad villain name,” said the Shadowhunter and Magnus burst into loud laughter, Alec’s comment bringing him to a full blown laughing fit, because it was just so unexpected. Alec kept looking at his boyfriend, who was still laughing, tears present in his eyes and a smile spread across Alec’s face as Magnus was trying to get his laughter under control.

“Oh, Alexander,” said Magnus when he finally managed to get himself under control and he shook his head. “You really do know how to make me feel better,” he then said and Alec beamed at him proudly and he shrugged.

“I try,” said Alec. “So, I guess you don’t like this Lorenz guy, huh?”

“Oh, we have a long past together,” said Magnus and shuddered. “Dislike would be a mild word to describe how I feel about him,” he then huffed under his breath and he rolled his eyes. “And they just had to name him as the new High Warlock. He’s gonna use every opportunity to rub it into my face and-”

“Let him. He’s not gonna be a good High Warlock,” said Alec, feeling confident in his words even though he didn’t know the other warlock. “And soon others will see that and you’ll get your position back. I’ll put in a good word for you as well,” said Alec, trying to help, but Magnus shook his head, not wanting Alec to use his position and power like that.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Magnus. “I’ll get used to it. I just need some time, that’s all,” he said and pressed his lips together. “And you,” he then said and Alec nodded.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” said Alec for the second time that evening and Magnus smiled when Alec pressed a kiss on top of his forehead. He then looked down and Magnus wrapped his pinky finger around Alec’s, who chuckled at that and pressed his forehead against Magnus’, closing his eyes for a split second. “Hey, we should pay your friend Catarina a visit,” suddenly said Alec and Magnus looked at him. Catarina sounded very worried about Magnus, so Alec thought it would do both Magnus and Catarina Loss good if they saw each other in person. Plus, going over to Catarina’s place meant seeing Madzie, which was a plus in Alec’s opinion.

“Cat?” asked Magnus and cocked his head to the side.

“She’s the one who told me about how devastated you were,” said Alec. “So, I was thinking… it wouldn’t hurt anyone to pay her a little visit, because she was very worried. Plus, we’d get to see Madzie,” added the hunter and Magnus grinned.

“Okay,” said Magnus and nodded, because Alec had a point. It’s been a while since he last saw his friend and Madzie, who was as cute as a button. He and Alec had the opportunity to babysit the little warlock a few times and Magnus was quite happy to see just how well she and Alec got along. She brought the childish side of Alec out and it was adorable. “Let’s pay Cat and Madzie a visit,” he said in the end and Alec happily smiled.

“Awesome,” said Alec and followed Magnus into the portal once the other created it, taking them straight over to Catarina’s place.

Alec was right about the visit, it did a lot of good to Magnus. Catarina was Magnus’ long time friend and while he had a heart to heart conversation with her, Alec was chasing around the place with Madzie, Magnus watching the two of them play with a smile on his face. His heart still hurt because he lost his position, but it was starting to get better, the pain was already milder, because even though he lost his previous position, he had other things in his life to look forward to.

#malec #malec fanfiction #sh spoilers #magnus x alec #shadowhunters

73 notes · View notes

holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight · 6 years

Text

Camouflage

Summary: After waking up in the middle of the night after his reconciliation with Magnus, Alec contemplates where to go from here.

Rating: T

Genre/Tags: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Healthy Communication, Good Parabatai Jace Herondale

Author: dylanobrienstyler

A/N: Title derived from the Selena Gomez song of the same name. Post 2x20. Found this from shortly after the season ended in my drabble - I don't think we'll be getting anything like it in the new season but who knows! Figured I'd post in case anyone else is as desperate for healthy communication between fictional characters as I am.

Can also be read on AO3.

Alec woke suddenly, the disorientation from coming out of deep slumber making it hard for his brain to catch up to his body's actions. His hand had slipped under the bed to pull out his spare seraph blade and his heart was pounding in his chest. He stumbled to his feet, glaring into the darkness as if waiting for an attack.

His eyes burned from the sudden forced opening, and he scrunched them shut as he shook his head to clear the fuzziness.

The automatic response of a soldier was to prepare for attack when his body was having such a visceral reaction, but now that he was breathing evenly, he caught on that the panic running through his veins did not belong to him.

Magnus hadn't stirred yet, Alec's swift movements also graceful in nature so they didn't jostle him, and he slipped out of the room just as quietly in an attempt to keep it that way. He knew Magnus had drained a lot of magical energy earlier, and he wanted him to get the rest he deserved.

Taking a deep breath, trying not to let his anxiety overwhelm him, Alec speed-dialed Jace's number once he located his phone. He knew now who the emotional outburst belonged to.

Jace answered after a couple rings, and Alec let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Hey."

"Hey." Alec replied, hovering awkwardly in the main living area of the loft, not really sure what he wanted to do with himself. "Everything okay? I felt… Well, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Jace said, but it was missing its usual confidence, and Alec frowned.

"Jace… You may be able to hide what's going on from everyone else, but not from me. Please talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

He heard Jace exhale through his nose, but he didn't sound irritated. Just like he was gathering his strength.

"Look, it's not… it's not a big deal, okay? I just had a weird sort of… panic attack, I guess."

"Is this because of what happened at Lake Lyn?" Alec asked, making sure to keep his voice low so as not stir his sleeping boyfriend.

"I… Yes."

Alec felt a surge of relief mixed with defeat stem from their parabatai rune, and Alec knew this was about to be a much bigger conversation. Needing the cool air to clear his head, Alec stepped out onto the balcony. The rain catapulting from the clouds made the moisture stick to his skin and it helped calm his nerves.

"I know something more happened there. But I didn't want to press you in front of everyone else. Do you want to talk about it?"

Jace was quiet on the other end for the moment. "Just… don't blame her, okay? She… she was acting out of grief. She doesn't know enough about our world to know the consequences that might follow such a powerful thing…"

Clary. Although a constant pain in his side at times, he had grown to care for the redheaded girl, despite his better judgment. She had shown some outstanding strength and fit into the Shadowhunter role very quickly for someone who had grown up entirely mundane, and she became very important to the people he too cared for so it was inevitable that she be welcomed into his restrictive inner circle.

"What did she do?"

"When Valentine raised the Angel, he didn't get a chance to grant his wish. So Clary wished for me to come back to life."

The silence lingered between them, stretching on as Alec absorbed the impact of his confession.

"By the Angel." Alec breathed out, rubbing a hand over his furrowed brow. He knew he had felt Jace die. He felt the part of his soul coiled around the part of Jace's snap and die off in time with his brother. He saw the rune disappear from his skin. He lost the anchor that was the other Shadowhunter to his soul. He had had a part of Jace as a part of him for half of his life—the emptiness of being the sole inhabitant of his body was a crushing weight and he had felt it instantly.

Alec pushed aside his own feelings from earlier in the day, the utter despair he felt losing his parabatai, and focused on the living, breathing one he had on the phone.

"What's happening to you now?"

"I don't know. It's like…" He paused, searching for words to explain something indescribable. "It feels like there's something in my body trying to get out. Or take over. I don't know. I don't know how to even figure out what it is. I don't know anyone else who has come back from the dead and didn't end up demonic or worse."

Alec closed his eyes, leaning onto the railing with his forearms. "We'll figure this out, Jace. I promise. I'm not losing you again."

"I'm sorry. I can only imagine how you felt."

Alec shook his head, despite Jace not being able to see him. "It doesn't matter now. You're alive. We can handle everything else, together."

A calmness swept through his veins, and Alec smiled as he realized he had said the right thing. The relief and freedom from guilt made it clear that Jace had been itching to tell someone about everything, and that their conversation had been good for both of them.

"Thanks, Alec. I should let you go. Aren't you at Magnus'?"

Alec's brows came together. "How did you know?"

When he had asked Magnus to talk at the Hunter's Moon during the celebration party, he hadn't been sure how the conversation would go, so he hadn't told anyone where he was going since it may have been a quick exchange. But he was pleasantly surprised to find Magnus on the same page as him, eager to move forward and be better, as a couple again.

"I can feel you too, remember? You're always more relaxed when you're with him. That's why when you don't come to the Institute to sleep or when you're missing at any point, I don't worry. You feel more... at home when you're with him."

The corner of Alec's lips turned upwards. Magnus' place was home, but even more so was the man himself.

"But I don't think things in paradise are back to how they were yet. You've felt more jittery than usual the past few hours, and that's not like you. Ever."

Alec licked his lips, mulling over how to explain his feelings when he wasn't good at confronting them let alone confessing them. But with Jace, it was a little easier. Especially since he couldn't exactly hide much from him.

Long-time adolescent crush notwithstanding.

"I… I'm afraid I'm going to screw things up again." Alec admitted. "I'm just hyperaware of every move I make, everything I say… And all I can think is that the clock is just counting down until I ruin everything. Again."

He was glad Jace couldn't see him. The rain wasn't the only thing wetting his cheeks now, and he hated his tear ducts for betraying him. At least he had managed to keep his voice steady, even if Jace could probably feel the squeezing pain of his fear.

"Alec…" Jace's voice was gentle now. "You and Magnus love each other. You're meant to be together. And not everything is your fault—you had some difficult choices to make and so did he. What matters is that you choose each other now, and that you talk to each other. You shouldn't be bottling this anxiety—you should be telling him about it. Maybe he feels the same way."

"Well that's impossible to know with him since he's always trying to play it cool."

He meant for his voice to sound more irritated than it did.

Jace chuckled, clearly noting the affection in his voice. "Alec, talk to Magnus. Tell him how you're feeling. You know I'm not one for feelings and especially talking about them at length, but look, you two have something special. And if you and me talking right now proves anything, it's that sometimes it really does help getting everything out in the open, even if the unknown still hangs in the balance."

"You're right." Alec sighed.

"When am I not?"

Jace sounded much more like himself now at least, and Alec rolled his eyes. "I also hate you."

"Sure, sure. Tell that to my parabatai rune."

"Now I'm thinking I should've picked Izzy."

Jace laughed, a sound Alec hadn't realized until then that he hadn't heard in a while. "Go. Talk to your man. And you know I'm here for you when you need it."

"Right back at you. G'night."

"Night."

The call ended and Alec slipped his phone into the waistband of his pajama pants.

He let the damp wind roll over him, eyes closed as he let the familiar sounds of the city soothe his overactive brain.

"Alexander?"

Alec turned around quickly to find Magnus hovering in the doorway, eyes watching him carefully.

He wondered how long he had been there.

"Hey. I hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't. Is everything okay?"

Alec opened his mouth to say one thing but closed it as he realized he should be saying the opposite. Jace's advice nagged him, and he wondered how to approach the topic.

Magnus joined him on the terrace and reached out for his hand. Alec immediately intertwined their fingers, feeling himself calm instantly at his touch.

It was easy to forget everything when Magnus was nearby, but he knew he had to grow up and push through the awkwardness to get them to the place he wanted them to be. He didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore.

"Something's troubling you. Please tell me what I can do." Magnus told him, his free hand pushing back Alec's damp hair.

Alec exhaled. "Well, I woke up because Jace had some sort of weird panic attack. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. He's fine—it was just residual from everything that happened earlier."

Magnus nodded, but Alec pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry. No. That's not entirely true." He sighed. "Jace told me that Clary was granted a wish from Raziel, and that it was to bring Jace back to life. And now he's having weird side effects; the consequences of such a powerful force touching him I guess."

Magnus' eyes were round. "Wow."

Alec nodded, but his eyes found the balcony floor, his strength wavering.

Magnus' hand stroking his cheek forced his gaze back to his boyfriend, and Alec found Magnus watching him warily.

"You know, when I said we shouldn't have secrets, I didn't mean you had to tell me everyone else's too. I'm glad you told me about Jace, it explains a lot and affects the future, but I don't want you to feel like I've trapped you in some sort of secret-bearing contract."

Alec looked away. He knew he needed to speak up, but he didn't know how to do so without messing things up or coming off the wrong way. Words had never been his strong suit. "Honestly, Magnus, I… I don't know how to act around you anymore. I'm so afraid I'm going to say the wrong thing, or do something stupid, and I'm going to upset you or even lose you all together all over again…"

It was his voice that betrayed him this time, trembling as he rambled on, and Magnus cupped his face in his hands, shushing him.

"Is this why you've been so quiet all night? I just assumed the day had wiped us both out."

Alec reached a hand up to cover one of Magnus' gently. "Look, I meant what I said tonight. I don't think I can live without you. And I have had to try recently, and it hurt. It hurt more than I knew it was possible to hurt. And I can't do it again. I nearly lost Jace today, a part of me, and Max nearly died after Jonathan's attack and if I was to lose you from my life… or try to go back to the way things have been since we've been apart…"

Magnus wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling Alec into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you in our time apart. I had to put up so many walls to keep myself in check around you. I spent all of my energy when we were near each other trying to hold myself together, trying to act indifferent and cold and whatever it took to keep you at arm's length. If you came too close, if you were too soft with me… I know I would've broken. I'm sorry that hurting you to force you to be distant with me was the only way I could handle being near you. It wasn't fair. I know why you made the choices you did, but I still felt like I came second when I've always put you first."

Alec nodded, nuzzling his face into Magnus' shoulder. "I know. I know I hurt you, and I understand why you felt so betrayed. It ate at me constantly, keeping it from you, even if it wasn't for long. I tried to think like a leader, tried to put the Shadow World ahead of my own personal investments, but it wasn't fair of me either. You deserved to know. And I trust you. I just… as High Warlock of Brooklyn, I didn't want to put you in a position where you had to choose between your people and me. And, well, clearly that's what ended up happening regardless."

Magnus sighed as they pulled apart. "Well, it's clear we have some things we need to work on, both separately and together. Trust is important. And communication. But with that comes trusting that I'm still going to love you even if you do make a mistake or say the wrong thing."

Alec smiled, lips upturned just a little. "That goes both ways. Even though we both know I'm the usual culprit."

Magnus kissed him chastely. "I'm not perfect, Alexander."

Alec lit up at that, mischievous smile gracing his face. "I don't know…" he sing-songed, letting his eyes run the length of his boyfriend. "I beg to differ."

Magnus chuckled at the compliment, thinking he was clearly a bad influence on the Shadowhunter, and he wrapped his arms around Alec's waist. "What do you say we go to bed? After some sleep, I'm feeling a lot more energized..."

"Hmm… I think I can have you eating your words soon." Alec teased, brushing his lips along Magnus' neck and up behind his ear. As expected, Magnus shivered and pulled him closer.

"Well, look who's not playing fair…"

"Who said anything about fair?"

Magnus dragged him back to their bedroom, happy to make up for lost time.

And when Jace fell asleep later that night, he couldn't help but be eased into happier dreams, his parabatai rune emitting the soft, warm feeling of finally being home.

#malec #malec fanfiction #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #good parabatai jace #post sh 2x20 #romance #angst #hurt/comfort

74 notes · View notes