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#shadowhunter academy
rhiannons-bird · 9 months
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The real tragedy of the Matthew/James & Alastair relationship and what happened at the academy is that they could’ve 100% bonded over hating that place had they had an opportunity to open up to each other the way James and Matthew did with each other.
It just struck me that the people viciously bullying Alastair where the same close-minded people that bullied James as well.
They all developed different coping strategies depending on their own unique circumstances and personalities: Alastair felt forced to adapt because he had nowhere to go, feeling unsafe at home, James pretty much tried to disappear into his books, and Matthew evaded victimisation through his charms and privilege while actively trying to get home so he could reassume his parentified role in caring for Henry.
Obviously James & Matthew were kind of cut out for each other, and as mentioned they all had different circumstances, plus Alastair was a lot more disadvantaged socially from the onset, but I think if they had been in the same year and gotten lucky he might’ve had a chance to get along with James and/or Matthew.
Because even though they weren’t aware of it, their very antagonisation of each other (just like James & Matthew initially) stemmed from their different reactions to what was a similar experience with and disgust for the society they where thrown into at the academy.
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paraheronstairs · 11 months
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the things i would do to get a book about the ‘90s gen in the shadowhunters academy and just info and dialogue and drama about them
like teen luke n valentine becoming parabatai, hodge and jocelyn best friends????
luke and valentine pining over jocelyn
maryse heartbreaker era
celine and more ab her background, her way to be
early good old days before val went insane
maybe maryse, celine and jocelyn even talking about how their kids are gonna be best friends
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tys-kitty · 2 years
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A day in James Herondale‘s life
Days at the Shadowhunter Academy
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one year since we had a shred of catarina news
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neeksxoxo · 1 year
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Alastair, after Matthew said he left his belongings in the South Wing and it blew up: Christopher, appearing out of nowhere: whoops Ragnor: Ragnor: goodbye
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tscclace · 11 months
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As a result, the New York Institute has become a much more central and important location than ever before. Not only are we now the home office of the Consul-in-Exile, the Headmaster of the Shadowhunter Academy-Also-in-Exile as well as the Warlock and Werewolf representatives to the Council, we are also the closest Institute to said Academy and therefore charged with its defense.
Memorandum from the New York Institute
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boredfangirl16 · 2 years
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Chain of Lies
Days Past: Idris, 1898
TW: bullying, racism, physical assault, mentions of alcoholism
“I’m going to miss you,” exclaimed Cordelia as she wrapped her arms around her older brother. She was a few inches shorter than him and went up on her toes to hug him goodbye. 
Alastair returned the embrace. He didn’t mind that her unruly hair was all in his face and that her grip was bound to start suffocating him. There had never been a time when the siblings were apart for more than a week and neither of them were ready to say goodbye until winter break. 
When Cordelia finally let go, she lightly punched him on the shoulder. “You better write to me about all of your adventures. If I don’t hear from you every week, I’ll storm the Shadowhunter Academy myself.”
“I will, I will,” Alastair said.
“I’m so excited for you! All the friends you make can over for a few days during break and I’ll be able to meet them. Maybe I’ll invite Lucie over as well! It’ll be the most exciting year we’ve ever had,” she said clapping her hands. It would almost look like she was the one leaving, given how excited she was.
“That’s enough, Cordelia,” his maman chided. Both her and Risa stood outside of the Carstairs residence in Idris. His father was too “sick” to say goodbye. Alastair wasn’t surprised in the slightest, but it didn’t make his absence hurt any less. “Let him say his goodbyes to the rest of us.”
Cordelia pouted and sat on one the steps leading to the manor. His mother passed her and embraced Alastair. 
“Show them what a Carstairs is made of,” she said to her son, and pulled away. “But don’t forget about the rest of us.” His maman cups his cheek. “You deserve this, joon. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Alastair nodded. “I will, maman.”
The last to say goodbye is Risa, who gave him the widest of smiles. 
“Goodbye Mr. Carstairs,” she said simply. He knew there was nothing more that she was supposed to say, she was just a servant after all. Yet she was the only one who seemed to understand the true nature of his father. She didn’t make excuses or claim he was something he was not. Somedays she felt like the only true parent Alastair had. The only one who never needed a child to carry their weight. It’s why he wished, she could’ve said more. 
“I’ll miss you, Risa.”
Risa stepped toward him and whispered into his ear, “Never fear, young Alastair. I’ll take care of everything while you’re away. Don’t pay your father a second thought. He doesn’t deserve to take up any space in that mind of yours.”
She stepped away and Alastair mouthed the words ‘thank you’. Risa only nodded, before returning to her spot next to his mother. 
“Can I go bother Alastair again?” Asked Cordelia impatiently, her knees bounced with energy.
“Once more, but then he really has to be on his way,” his mother said. 
Cordelia jumped up and nearly tackled Alastair. He rolled his eyes like any older sibling would, but he secretly enjoyed it. She would always be his baby sister, a bright burst of joy in his otherwise dull life. 
“What am I going to do when you’re gone?” She asked meekly. 
“I’m sure you’ll find something. Maybe you can invite Lucie over to train for a bit. You’ll need to learn to fight together if you’re to become Parabatai,” Alastair said. 
Cordelia’s eyes lit up at that and she looked back at their mother. 
“Can I invite Lucie over? Please, please, pleaseeeeee,” she begged.
“We’ll see about contacting the Herondales.”
His sister whined a bit more before it was time for Alastair to get into the carriage and leave for good. 
“Goodbye!” Shouted Alastair out of the window. He waved through the glass at his family. Cordelia looked as if she might have run after the carriage if their mother wasn’t holding her back. 
Then he was left all alone in the carriage with all of his possessions shoved into two bags at his feet. He looked out the window to see fellow shadowhunters and large mansions. They never spent much time in Idris, unlike other families, so the landscape was mostly unfamiliar to him. The towers in the distance that protected them from the outside world looked timeless and beautiful, but it also made the area seem like one big prison with fancy bars to distract them from their cage. The shadowhunters who grew up here know nothing of the real world, only seeing glimpses of it in books and stories. He couldn’t even imagine being that sheltered. 
The landscape started to contain less and less buildings until only trees and open land remained. The carriage jostled about on the dirt road, causing Alastair to knock his head on the roof on one particularly large bump. He winced and smoothed his hair down. He couldn’t arrive looking unpresentable. 
After a little while, the Shadowhunter Academy came into view. Alastair stared out the window, much like a small child with his nose against the glass. His eyes widened looking at the large building. It looked positively ancient with towers that seemed to touch the clouds. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed it was some sort of castle, hiding in the woods. It looked like the type of thing lost princesses would be trapped in, with their knights in shining armor racing to save them. He could almost imagine a dragon perched on top of the roof breathing fire down on the land below. For a moment, he felt like a kid again, looking out at the world in wonder. 
As he grew closer, he could make out students out in the front lawn. There were groups of boys, all around his age, in groups and pairs. He had never seen so many children. Alastair was used to it just being him and Cordelia. They moved too frequently to make many (or any in Alastair’s case) friends. He could almost imagine finding a group of boys here. Ones who he could entrust with anything. A close knit group of companions who he would spend his adulthood with. Maybe he could even find a Parabatai. It was a long shot, but anything could happen. In books, boarding schools were magical places that came with endless adventures and friends that could last a lifetime. While he doubted it would be as eventful or end as perfectly as the stories do, he thought that he could get some sort of happy ending there. An escape from his dreadful life at home. 
The carriage came to a stop and Alastair nervously opened up the door. He lugged his bags over his shoulder and closed the door. Then it drove away, leaving him all alone outside this new and magical place. 
He gathered his courage and braved the crowds of boys. Everyone already seemed to have found groups, all moving towards a line in the front of the school. He decided they all just must be older and returning. Surely, there must be countless new boys without any friends. 
Alastair got into line, not knowing quite what it was for. While most boys ignored him all together, a few gave him strange looks and sneers. It was then that he took a good look around at his fellow schoolmates. Almost every single one of them was white. Where were the boys from countries other than Europe? Shadowhunters come from all over, regardless of heritage. Why aren’t they at the Academy? He swallowed his questions and kept his head down. Mundanes had a nasty tendency to judge him by the color of his skin, but he thought that it might be different here. While he knew it might not the reason some are staring, he wasn’t an idiot, at least some of them are due to his race. 
“Name?” Asked a disgruntled man sitting at a desk at the front of the line. 
“Alastair Carstairs.”
“Middle name?”
“Esfandiyar.”
He heard a few snickers behind him. 
“What sort of name is that?” One said. 
“It’s exotic,” said another. 
An envelope was handed over to him. On the front was his name, his middle name spelled completely wrong, and a room number. He sighed. 
Every heroine had a rough first day. If there weren’t challenges, it would be a rather dull story. This was all just a bump in the road. Things would get better. He knew it, or he hoped it. 
The entrance was grand. There were hallways and corridors everywhere he looked. The ceiling was so tall, that he had to wonder how they cleaned it. The windows at the front of the school let in plenty of natural light. People swarmed like ants in the entrance way. He followed the flow of boys until he was left at a cross road. He assumed the W on his envelope meant west wing and went down that path. Alastair climbed flight upon flight of stairs until he finally reached the 6th floor. He read the signs on the doors until he saw the one that matched at the very end of the hall. He ripped open the envelope and grabbed the key out of it. 
The room was small for two people, with just enough space between the beds for a walkway. There was a trunk at the end of both beds and a desk next to that. The walls were an eggshell color with red accents all over the room. He supposed it was cozy. He didn’t expect a large space anyways. 
A boy sat on the bed on the right side on the room. He had clothes scattered all around him. It looked like he dumped out his bags, before simply putting it away. He smiled kindly at Alastair’s appearance. 
“Hello,” he said. “My name is Alberto Maez. What’s yours?”
“Alastair Carstairs,” he replied. “Maez doesn’t sound like a shadowhunter name. Are you a mundane?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I just don’t typically give my full last name, since no one can pronounce it. Maez works just fine.”
Alastair nodded politely and closed the door behind him. Alberto was still busy organizing his clothes and shoving them into his trunk. His brown curls fell into his eyes as he worked. After a moment, he looked away and started putting his own stuff away. 
All his clothes were already folded and just had to get put away. He brought two of his daggers from his collection that he hung on the wall next to his bed. All of his school supplies were piled on his desk, to be organized once classes began. Last but not least was a hedgehog plushie that Cordelia had gotten him for Christmas the year before, that he placed on his bed. It wasn’t much, but it felt a little more like home. 
“Do you like hedgehogs?” Asked Alberto, startling Alastair. 
“Yes, my sister got it for me.”
“You have siblings too? I have two older ones that are twins and one a younger sister who was adopted.”
Alastair nodded. “I have one younger sister, her name is Cordelia.”
“I wish I only had a younger sister,” Alberto said sounding exasperated. “My older ones are asses.”
Alastair spent the rest of the afternoon talking to his new roommate. Each spoke of their families and complained about the things they didn’t like. He left his father out of the discussion, almost completely. He didn’t trust himself to say anything kind about him, even to a complete stranger. Alberto thought it was amazing that he got to live in so many different places, apparently the boy had only lived in one house his entire life. It was the first time he ever thought that moving could be anything other than a burden. 
Soon enough it was time to go to dinner and the boys left together. Doors to the other rooms were left open as boys ran in and out of them. Alastair looked in one and was startled to notice the other rooms were almost double the size of his. He shook off the uneasy feeling in his gut and didn’t comment on it to Alberto. 
At dinner, he sat with Alberto in the corner of the hall. The food was alright, but nothing special. It was loud, with people moving from table to table, speaking to anyone and everyone. Alastair thought about doing the same, but he thought better of it. No one approached them until the last few minutes of supper. 
“Look what we have here,” commented a boy with golden blonde hair and green eyes. He was followed by two other boys with sandy brown hair. They sat at the remaining seats of the table with mischievous grins. “The black sheep of the Academy.”
“Quite literally,” said one of his companions. 
“The only thing worse than them is the mundanes,” chuckled the other. 
Alberto looked absolutely furious. 
“Screw off,” he said harshly. “Find someone else to pick on.”
All three boys laughed. Alastair had an uneasy feeling in his gut, yet again.
“Alberto, right? I heard your family’s been having money troubles. It would really be a shame if you upset the most wealthy Shadowhunter families on your first day,” the blonde boy said. “If you keep your head down, maybe help us out a bit, I can forgive your original outburst.”
“Like hell I will.”
“What’s your problem?” Asked Alastair. 
“You.”
“People like you don’t belong here. Your kind isn’t welcome at the Academy, the only reason you were accepted is because your families were so desperate to get rid of you that they begged the deans to make an acceptation,” one of the brown haired boys jabbed.
“Your kind? We aren’t even the same race you bigoted fool,” Alastair retorted. “You do realize that shadowhunters don’t just reside in Europe, right? Or are you just that dense?”
A snarl appeared on the bully’s face. Alberto looked at Alastair with a look of approval. 
“I’m going to give you both one more chance to apologize,” the blonde boy said. The look on his face was dark and menacing. “Or else things are going to get messy.”
“I’m sorry,” said Alberto. For a moment Alastair thought he really was going to apologize, before he finished his sentence. “That you’re an infuriating piece of shit.”
Alastair didn’t quite remember what happened next. Someone threw a punch and a fight ensued, but he didn’t know which of the three boys started it. That’s the thing with bad memories, sometimes they become fuzzy. It’s the only reason Alastair has stayed sane.
Alberto held his own, as the two brown haired boys came at him. Alastair didn’t have much time to help because the blonde one came at him. He ducked and parried each blow. His training with Cordelia was coming in handy. Alastair threw a few punches himself, making contact once or twice. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see people crowding around, watching the fight. There were shouts that he couldn’t make out. People who raised their fists and screamed as loud as they could. He was too distracted to notice he was being cornered into a wall, until he bumped into it. 
“You have nowhere to go now,” taunted the bully. “Are you going to run away? It’s what your family does best.”
The remark took him by surprise and he felt a fist connect with his jaw. Alastair eyes lit up with fury and he brought up his knee to the other boy’s crotch. He crumpled like paper to the floor. Alastair used the opportunity to kick him in the face and pin him to the ground. He punched him, again and again and again. He didn’t know how many times, he lost count early on. He was mad at the world and he took it out on that boy. He was mad his father was a drunken bastard. He was mad that his mother cared more for him than she did for her own son. He was mad that the color of skin set him apart from other people. He was mad that his escape had already been ruined, not even a day in. 
Then he felt arms pulling him back. Adults broke through the crowds and pulled both Alastair and Alberto out of the fight. The three bullies were being coddled and helped to their feet as if they hadn’t started the mess. 
“He’s so violent,” he heard someone whisper. 
“No one in London does anything like that,” said another.
“You can’t blame them, it’s just who they are.”
“Who let them in?”
“Disgusting.”
“Ugly.”
“Violent.”
“Dark-skinned.”
The chorus of whispers and stares made Alastair feel very small. All that rage and all that power he felt when he beat the older boy was gone. It was replaced by shame. He looked down at his feet as he was escorted out of the dining hall. 
To no one’s surprise, none of the three boys who picked the fight got in any trouble. In fact they were praised for their courageous behavior against their attackers. Their fathers arrived and said harsh things straight to Alastair and Alberto’s faces. This is where children learn it from, he thought. Their families were filled with a hate that they pass down from generation to generation, not that it excuses any of the boy’s actions. 
Of course, Alastair’s father never came. All he received was a letter scolding him for his actions, telling him that if he got expelled for misbehavior he would no longer be allowed under the Carstairs roof. That night he cried into his pillow. He knew Alberto had to have heard him, but the other boy never commented on it. It was a small mercy, but he appreciated it. In fact Alberto was his saving grace during those few days after the fight. He cursed out those three bullies and the Academy as a whole, every time they were left alone in their room.
“It’s unfair!” Alberto exclaimed one night. He stood on his bed with his hands on his hips. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We didn’t,” agreed Alastair, who was lying on his bed with his hedgehog on his chest. 
“How are we the one’s getting threatened with expulsion?”
Alastair shrugged. He thought about what his father wrote. “If I get expelled, my father said he would disown me.”
“What?” Alberto almost screamed. “You can’t be serious. Does he know what really happened?”
“No, but he doesn’t care. He isn’t a good man.”
Alberto was silent, which was a rarity. Alastair didn’t even realize he was hovering over his bed, until he spoke. 
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “If he does, I bet I can convince my father to take you in for the time being. If not the Institute in Madrid will. There are plenty of kids there without a place to live.”
Alastair nodded, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He didn’t know if his father’s threats were empty, but he didn’t want to find out. 
During the next few days, the punishments were further discussed amongst the deans. They demanded punishment, some even pushed for expulsion. The only reason the decision wasn’t made sooner was that both boys came from influential families. Alastair’s father was still known as a hero even if he knew it was far from the truth and Alberto’s father’s brother held a high position in the Clave. It wasn’t until the day of decision that the later’s father spoke during one of the meetings. 
“My son will no longer be attending the Academy,” he boomed. Alberto’s father was a large man, unlike his son who was tall, but a twig. “Place the blame on us if you wish. You can label Alberto as an expulsion if it makes you all feel better about yourselves, but keep Carstairs out of this. I ensure you that the Consul won’t be thrilled if you punish him for this given her history with his family.”
The deans took his words to heart and Alastair was let off easy. He was given kitchen and cleaning duties until the winter break. Alberto was gone within the day and it was as if he never attended. No one spoke of him and no one missed him, other than Alastair. It hurt more than he thought it would. If things hadn’t gone the way they had, they could’ve been friends. He could almost imagine traveling to Madrid over the summer to visit him. Cordelia would have loved him. It was all so unfair. 
Thinking of Alberto also made him think of his father. A genuinely good man who came to his son’s aid, unlike Alastair’s own. He was probably to busy at the pub to even think of coming to defend his son. He couldn’t help, but get just a little jealous. 
The next few weeks were lonely. He never got a new roommate, so he had the space to himself. It was good in some ways, like how he pushed the beds together to make the space seem larger. It also let him hide by himself whenever he wasn’t in class. Yet whenever he walked down the halls, everyone was in pairs. Roommates were year long best friends and Alastair no longer had one.
In fact all of his plans for making friends were ruined. Anytime he tried to talk to someone they walked away, acted like they didn’t hear, or insulted him. When group projects were given in class, he was the only one with no partner and had points taken off because of it. Some teachers weren’t any better than the students. He got lower scores than his classmates, even if he knew he had to have done just as well. It was infuriating, to say the least. 
When he wrote to Cordelia, he made up tales from the Shadowhunter Academy that weren’t true in the slightest. There was just enough detail to suffice her curiosity, but he never gave any names or specifics. She was bound to grow suspicious soon, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t know the truth, and neither could his mother. They deserved to sleep easy at night thinking at he was having the time of his life at school. There was no need to worry them, when there was nothing they could do to ease his pain or his loneliness. 
Every morning, he woke up early to help the cooks make breakfast for everyone and every evening, he cleaned the dining room until it shined. It left him doing his homework until late in the evening. It was an endless routine of misery that left him tired day in and day out. He honestly didn’t think that things could get any worse. 
One night after cleaning, he took the long way back to his room. There was a route that went outside that led to the west wing of the building. He took it once a week to get some fresh air and look at the stars. Walks have always calmed him down whenever he was having a rough time. Often he would wander the woods of Cirenworth, but the path from the dining hall to his room had to be good enough. He didn’t trust the woods in Idris enough to start exploring. 
“Look who we have here,” he heard someone say. 
His blood ran cold when he turned around and saw that head of blonde hair. His two companions were also there, but there was also two newcomers. He recognized them from his classes, Clive Cartwright and Augustus Pounceby. 
Alastair took a step back. 
“I never got my apology,” he said. 
His face had mostly healed from Alastair’s blows, but his one eye was still dark. 
“I haven’t bothered you. I don’t plan on picking any more fights,” Alastair said and put his hands up in defeat. “Just let me be.”
“And what are you going to do if we don’t? You can’t afford to get into another fight,” he said and took steps toward Alastair. “If I heard correctly, you’ll be disowned.”
How did they know that? Did the school go through his mail?
“If I was him, I would want to get expelled. What family of freaks hasn’t stayed in a country for more a few years?”
“They’re probably running. He got his violent tendencies from somewhere.”
Everyone chuckled. Alastair had never felt more alone. 
“I’m going to tell you exactly what’s going to happen. Augustus and Clive here are going to be beat the shit out of you and you aren’t going to do a thing to stop them. If you do, we’ll tell the deans you picked another fight. Then you’re going to apologize to each of us. Do you understand?”
Alastair had his fair share of suffering during his short lifetime, but it never seemed to end. The nightmare got worse and worse with each passing day. He was naive to ever think that anything good would come out of this place. 
“I understand,” he said softly. 
Pain. The next few minutes were filled with pain. Kicks and punches thrown until he could no longer stand. He curled into himself as his classmates continued to beat him. Blood filled his mouth. It had a coppery taste. He heard a snap as a shoe slammed down on his ribs. He cried out in agony. It didn’t stop. It felt like it would never stop. 
When they finally did, Alastair begged. He kneeled on the ground like a pathetic creature and apologized until his throat was sore. His face was covered in a mixture of blood, sweat, and tears. He clutched his side, his rib most likely broken. Bruises already starting to form over most of his body. 
“Good boy,” said the blonde. “I expect you’ve learned your lesson now, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Alastair croaked out. 
“Well then, I guess we’re done for now.”
“For now?”
“Did you think we would just let you be forever?” He snickered. 
That night Alastair cried once more, except this time each sob hurt. He didn’t dare go to the infirmary where they would question the origin of his injuries. Instead he found some gauze and bandages to patch himself up to the best of his ability. 
He could no longer even bear to send letters to Cordelia. It hurt too much to even fake happiness anymore. He didn’t read hers either. They accumulated in his desk drawer, along with the hedgehog that he stuffed away in there. 
Alastair was taunted and used as a punching bag whenever the bully boys got bored of tormenting mundanes. Nothing was as bad as that first night, but he had to spend every moment of every day on edge. He never knew when he would see blonde hair and green eyes coming around the corner. That was until the day that everything changed. 
A month or two after the first incident, he was walking back to his room and some kid ran into him. A mundane if he had to guess by the scared look on his face. Alastair honestly couldn’t say exactly why he said what he did. His temper got the best of him, as it tends to and that kid was just in the way. He didn’t mean for it to be anything personal. 
“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled. “Do you have no sense of space? How do you expect to fight if you can’t even walk down the halls without running into someone? You’re pathetic. You’ll never become a real shadowhunter.”
The boy cowered beneath him and Alastair looked at him in horror. He saw himself in that scared face, but what terrified him what he was becoming. How could he be so cruel to someone he had never met before? Someone who’s wrongdoing was so small? He didn’t want to be consumed by cruelty and hate.
“Good one,” said the blonde from his nightmares. “Don’t you agree Clive?”
Alastair spun around to see both the blonde and Clive behind him. They looked almost impressed. 
“Maybe Carstairs isn’t so bad after all,” Clive replied. 
The rest was history. 
-I do have some notes at the end of this chapter on the AO3 version-
Taglist:
@artistinsoul 
@laylax13s 
@thelasthours-alastair 
@ashisamess
@thedamnephilimfangirl 
@youwerealwaysmysecret 
@melanielocke 
@yozinha-z 
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megarabane · 2 years
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Proud of You (Problem Solving: The Lightwood Way)
               “What’s wrong?” he asked, a strange sense of dread building in his chest. Angel, I was kidding, someone better not be dead.
               “I just got a fire message from the Academy.”
               Alec straightened. “Is Rafe okay?”
               “Well.” Magnus pushed air through his teeth. “Apparently, he’s suspended.”
---
The fun little parental!Malec fic I posted a snippet of a while ago that got really popular lmao here it is!
TW: use of the f-word slur for LGBTQ+ people (once in English and once in Spanish) in reference to an off-screen incident
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De Dru à Kit
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1 : La patte de singe : Nouvelle d'horreur de William Wymark Jacobs publiée en 1902.
Texte original de Cassandra Clare ©
Traduction d’Eurydice Bluenight ©
Illustration de Cassandra Jean ©
Le texte original est à lire ici : https://secretsofblackthornhall.tumblr.com/post/679983692049006592/dru-to-kit
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thebigbookfanboy · 2 years
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Did Charles even go to the Shadowhunter Academy? I honestly can't remember.
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layla-carstairs · 9 months
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Alec and Clary hating each other's guts in cob is iconic & funny but what makes it so much funnier is how quickly they get over it. by the epilogue they're both like "I feel so bad about all the mean & completely untrue things I said to you and for being really shitty/shoving you against a wall/nearly causing you to die :( im so sorry. anyway, let's never tell Jace any of this k?" and then proceeded to never acknowledge any of it again. by coa it's like it never happened at all. like it doesn't even get a mention in their inner monologues or anything. the one time it does come up is in tftsa due to Simon's incomplete memories & him being under the impression Alec doesn't like Clary. and when he brings it up to Alec his immediate response is this
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like I'm obsessed with their dynamic, nobody's doing it like them
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rhiannons-bird · 2 years
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The scholomance is dark academia and the academy is light academia. This is a fact.
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caringescapes · 2 years
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I read Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy and I just have to say
W t f was the ending of that last short story?
I mean, I enjoyed all of the short stories, but overall I gave this book 3 out of 5 stars. I always like reading about these characters and this world, even if the short stories are a bit pointless.
But that last story? Horrifying.
I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been so caught off guard or horrified by something from a Shadowhunter book. And this is a collection of SHORT STORIES. I thought this was supposed to be fun!!!
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…anyway, time to find another book and take a break from the Shadowhunter universe for a while before I start the Dark Artifices.
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aleswiftgron · 9 months
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The fact that Robert Lightwood was in the circle and his parabatai was in love with him, and he thought he was disgusting for it
And THEN the universe gives him a gay son in love with the most flamboyant and known downworlder ever, THAT was karma at it's finest
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no but when will catarina return from the war it’s been 6 months cassandra
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neeksxoxo · 1 year
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James: i'd rather like a parabatai that's quiet like me whom i can bond with hating social outings and- Matthew: James: James: tHAT ONE YES I WILL TAKE THAT ONE
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