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the last hours by cassandra clare : a complete compilation of snippets released as of 19 feb 19

reminder that snippets are tentative and can be misleading, it’s all up to interpretation. i have ordered the snippets, some are all from chain of gold as far as i guessed / can tell from cassie’s tags and have some sort of sequence, others are most likely from chain of gold too. some are from cassie’s pinterest so they might just be ideas. i will update this post at least once a month, also depending on whether new snippets have been released.

WILL, JEM, TESSA & JAMES ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Will had been sitting on the floor, the rug bunched up under his feet, with his back against Tessa’s legs. He looked up when Jem came in, and Jem, in his Silent Brother robes, went over to Will and sat down beside him. He drew Will’s head against his shoulder, and Will held the front of Jem’s robes in his fists and he cried. It was the first time it had ever occurred to James that his father might cry about anything.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

They were inseperable.

MATTHEW

"What's that little smile of yours?" Matthew inquired. "You look as if you're about to laugh."

UNKNOWN BOY & MATTHEW

He yanked him downward, and in a moment they were rolling on the carpet like puppies, Matthew laughing uncontrollably...

SEMI-UNIDENTIFIED SNIPPET ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

He took a deep breath, and crossed the floor of blades and constellations to the other boy’s side. He stood at the foot of the stairs, looking down.

“But of course,” he said, very softly, “your sentiments are reciprocated.”

He stooped over him, tilting his chin up. Their lips met. The other boy made a soft sound, almost like surrender, stretching under his body. He slid an arm around his neck and pulled him down onto the stairs.

TESSA & WILL

"Will." Tessa sank down beside him on the bed. "There is no war."

MATTHEW

"A lapidary phrase is one that is worth carving into stone," said Matthew, "and preserving forever — a wise saying such as we are dust and shadows, or alternately, any words that come out of my mouth."

JAMES

"That's because you’re drunk," said James. They were both sprawled at the same round table in an upper room of the Devil Tavern on Fleet Street.

MATTHEW

"I think too much and I drink too much," said Matthew, "that's my problem."

MATTHEW talking to JAMES

"Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the dark brooding one. It is tedious when you mix up our roles."

MATTHEW & JAMES

Matthew held out his hands. “Pax,” he said, wheedlingly. “Let it be peace between us. You can pour the rest of the port* on my head.”

James’ mouth curved up into a smile. It was impossible to stay angry with Matthew. It was almost impossible to get angry at Matthew.

* as it turns out, a definition of ‘port’ is a strong, sweet dark red (occasionally brown or white) fortified wine, originally from Portugal, typically drunk as a dessert wine. that’s how I made the connection between these snippets and arranged them so. it’s not confirmed.

WILL & LUCIE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“What if Cordelia has changed her mind, and says she will not have a minx like you?”

“She would never!” Lucie was outraged.

“No,” Will agreed. “She would not. As far as I am concerned, you shall perform the ceremony as soon as you please. All I want is for you and Cordelia to live a long and happy life, and never be parted.”

CECILY ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"I am pleased - it is high time I think more girls became parabatai with each other," said Cecily.

WILL & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Cordelia Carstairs,” Will said, after greeting her mother. “How pretty you’ve become.”

Cordelia beamed. If Will thought she was pretty, perhaps his son thought so, too. Of course Will was entirely prejudiced toward all things Carstairs. He even thought Alastair was perfect (and, possibly, also pretty.)

LUCIE

The Beautiful Cordelia was a novel that Lucie had begun when she was twelve.

“THE BEAUTIFUL CORDELIA” LUCIE & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. “Is it — I mean, I wish to chat alone with you, too, but are we being dreadfully rude asking your brother to walk behind us?”

“Not a bit,” Lucie assured her. “Look at him. He’s quite distracted, reading.”

And he was. James had a book out and was calmly reading while he walked. Though he seemed entirely caught up in whatever he was perusing, he nevertheless skirted oncoming passers-by, the occasional rock or fallen branch, and once even a small boy holding a hoop, with admirable grace. Cordelia suspected that if she had tried such a stunt, she would have crashed into a tree.

“You’re so lucky,” Cordelia said, wistfully, still looking over her shoulder at James.

“Goodness me, why?” Lucie looked at her with wide eyes. Where James’ eyes were amber, Lucie’s were a pretty pale blue, a shade lighter than her father’s. The famous dark blue Herondale eyes had gone to Will’s sister’s children.

Cordelia’s head snapped back around. “Oh, because —“ Because you get to spend time with James every day? She doubted Lucie thought that was any special gift; one didn’t, when it was one’s family. “He’s such a good older brother. If I’d asked Alastair to walk ten paces behind me in a park he would have made sure to stick by my side the entire time just to be annoying.”

“Pfft!” Lucie exhaled. “Of course I adore Jamie but he’s been dreadful lately, ever since he fell in love.”

She might as well have dropped an incendiary device on Cordelia’s head. Everything seemed to fly apart around her. “He’s what?”

“Fallen in love,” Lucie repeated, with the look of someone enjoying imparting a bit of gossip. “Oh, he won’t say with who, of course, because it’s Jamie and he never tells us anything. But Father’s diagnosed him and he says it’s definitely love.”

“You make it sound like consumption.” Cordelia’s head was whirling with dismay. James in love? With who? The look he had given her when she stepped down from the carriage, perhaps she had imagined that?

“Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? He gets all pale and moody and stares off out of windows like Keats.”

“Did Keats stare out of windows? I don’t recall hearing that.”

Lucie plowed on, undeterred by the question of whether England’s foremost romantic poet did or did not stare out of windows. “He won’t say anything to anyone but Matthew, and Matthew is a tomb where James is concerned. I heard a bit of their conversation once by accident, though —“

“Accident?” Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

“I may have been hiding beneath a table,” said Lucie, with dignity. “But it was only because I had lost an earring and was looking for it.”

Cordelia suppressed a smile. “Go on.”

“He is definitely in love, and Matthew definitely thinks he is being foolish. He does not like her.“

CORDELIA, LUCIE & MATTHEW ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia clutched Lucie’s hand as they jolted through the streets in the Carstairs’ carriage, surrounded by the blurred traffic of omnibuses, motorcars, and pedestrians. Advertisements whirled past. THE HORSESHOE HOTEL. THREE GUINEA STOUT. NEW PALACE STEAMERS. Signs advertising tailors and fishmongers, hair tonic and cheap printing.

Matthew, sitting across from them on the upholstered carriage seat, was muttering and swearing to himself, his hair sticking out madly.

“Hidebound,” he muttered. “Weasels.”

“What?” said Lucie.

“I think he said hidebound weasels,” said Cordelia. “But who do you mean, Matthew? Are you angry at us?”

Matthew flung himself sideways so his long legs were pulled up on the bench seat in front of him, and his profile was presented to Lucie and Cordelia. It was a fine profile: he was much more delicate-featured than his brother, who had a broad, strong face. Matthew had a face that looked as if it had been meant to be painted on china.

“Of course not,” he said. “It’s just appalling how they all treat James.” He glanced at Cordelia, and then at Lucie. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

JAMES, TESSA & WILL ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James could see his mother moving like an anxious pale star among the guests in her lilac dress, greeting each of them warmly, welcoming them to her home. She had not glamoured herself to look her husband’s age for the evening, and she appeared enormously young, though her hair was done up like a gracious older woman’s, not a girl’s. When Will materialized out of the crowd and came to put his arm around Tessa, smiling down at her, the gray at his temples flashed like silver. James looked away; he loved his parents for being extraordinary, but sometimes he also hated them for the same thing.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James and Matthew separated, Matthew to dance with Lucie, and James to speak to his parents. Cordelia saw them glance over toward her and looked away quickly; still, she was not at all surprised when James appeared a moment later in front of her, flashing a smile at his aunt and uncle.

“Miss Carstairs,” he said, with a slight bow in Cordelia’s direction. “Would you favor me with this dance?”

“It’s a waltz,” said Cordelia’s mother, before Cordelia could speak. “My daughter does not know how to waltz.”

Cordelia bit her lip. She certainly knew how to dance: her mother had engaged an expert instructor to teach her the quadrille and the lancer, the stately minuet and the cotilion. But the waltz was a seductive dance, one where you could feel your partner’s body against yours, scandalous when it had first become popular.

She very much wanted to waltz with James.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"Who's the boy tripping over his own feet?" Cordelia asked as the boy in question, a slender, ink-stained young man with spectacles and tousled brown curls, nearly careened into Lucie and Matthew.

"That's Christopher Lightwood. My cousin. Alas, Christopher is far more at home with beakers and test tubes than he is with female company. Let's just hope he doesn’t pitch poor Rosamund Townsend into the refreshment table."

"Is he in love with her?"

"Lord, no, barely knows her," said James. "Charles and Ariadne* are engaged, and Barbara Lightwood has an understanding with George** Hayward. Beyond that, I'm not sure I can think of any romances brewing in our set. Though having you and Alastair here might bring us some excitement, Daisy."

Her heart leaped. "I didn't realize you remembered that old nickname."

"What, Daisy?” He was holding her close as they danced: she could feel the heat of him all up and down her front, making her prickle all over. "Of course I remember it. I gave it to you. I hope you don't intend me to stop using it."

"Of course not. I like it." She forced herself not to move her gaze from his. Goodness, his eyes were startling up close. They were the color of golden syrup, almost shocking against the black of his pupils. She had heard the whispers, knew people found his eyes odd and alien, a sign of his difference. She thought they were lovely: the color of fire and gold, the way she imagined the heart of the sun. "Though I don't think it suits me. Daisy sounds like a pretty little girl in hair ribbons."

"Well," he said. "You are at least -"

He broke off. She heard the click as he swallowed: he was looking past her, at someone who had just come into the room. Cordelia followed his glance, and saw a tall woman, thin as a scarecrow and dressed in the black of mourning, with gray-streaked auburn hair done in the style of decades ago piled on her head. Tessa was hurrying toward her, a concerned look on her face. Will was following, and goodness, what did they both look so worried about?

As Tessa reached her, the woman stepped aside, revealing the girl who had been standing behind her. A girl, dressed all in ivory, with a soft waterfall of white-gold curls gathered back from her face. The girl moved forward gracefully to greet Tessa and Will, and as she did so, James dropped Cordelia's hands.

They were no longer dancing. Cordelia stood, frozen in confusion, as James turned away from her without a word and strode across the room toward the girl.

* in the original snippet, her name was Daphne, it’s been changed to Ariadne, confirmed.

** see next snippet

BARBARA & THOMAS ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Barbara patted Thomas, as if his brawny arm was a small boy’s head. “I was merely anxious about you, Tommy. Surely you are not vexed.”

Thomas’s brows were drawn sharply together, making his amiable countenance dark for the briefest interval. Then he sighed, drew his sister toward him in the circle of his arm, and stooped to press a kiss upon her brow.

“No, Babs,” he said. “Of course I am not vexed. Can you spare your brother a dance, though I know Oliver** will be loath to part with you? I will take care not to be clumsy.”

** unsure if George’s name has been changed to Oliver or if they are even the same person.

THOMAS, CHRISTOPHER & GRACE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Christopher,” said Thomas. “Would you take James away immediately and show him an interesting scientific experiment?”

Christopher frowned. “Which one?”

“Any one at all!” said Thomas. “I will escort the ladies home.”

Christopher’s brow cleared. “Ah, I understand perfectly. This is what Matthew said we were to do, about not letting James out of our sight and above all else keeping him away from…”

He trailed off, gazing at Grace with distant alarm.

GRACE

Be careful what you say to me, Grace told him. There is nothing I cannot make you do.

[ popularly assumed to be JAMES talking to GRACE ]

"That was vile, what you made me do, and vile that you made me do it."

THOMAS & LUCIE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Apprehension stole across Thomas’s face. “Lucie, you must not challenge Grace to a duel.”

“We shall see where the night takes us,” Lucie declared.

“Oh good,” said Thomas. “I see you intend to Herondale to the fullest.”

JAMES

Make a wish, Jamie

JAMES

"Stop!" James cried. He felt as if he were drowning. He had always been shy...

JAMES & BARBARA

The world had gone monochrome. James saw broken, black walls, a splintered floor, and dust that glittered like dull jewels scattered across the place where Barbara had fallen.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James cried out. Lightning seemed to fork behind his vision, and suddenly he was back in Regent’s Park, kneeling on the grass. There was a firm grip on his shoulders. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” said an urgent voice, and James — his breath tearing in and out of his chest — tried to focus on what was in front of him.

Matthew.

Everything was blurred in that moment but Matthew’s face, his green eyes wide and dark and steady. Behind him moved other figures; they seemed in that moment like the shapes James had been finding in the clouds — inchoate and untouchable.

“Jamie, breathe,” Matthew said, and his voice was the only steady thing in a world turning upside down. It had been years since this had happened. Years. The horror of it happening in front of a crowd of people —

“Did they see me?” he said in a cracked voice. “Did they see me turn?”

“You didn’t,” Matthew said, “or at least, only a very little bit — perhaps just a bit fuzzy round the edges —“

“It’s not funny,” James said through his teeth, but Matthew’s humor acted like a slap of cold water; he opened his eyes fully, saw Thomas and Christopher looking down at him. They had positioned themselves so as to block him from the crowd at the lake’s edge.

“Get up,” Thomas said. “It’s the best thing you can do, James, we’ll tell them you tripped or fell.” His hazel eyes were anxious but his tone was reassuring. “Honestly all the attention was on Ariadne — “

Matthew’s hands on James’ shoulders turned into a grip on his arms, and James was hauled upright by his three best friends. Christopher produced a handkerchief from somewhere and began to dust his lapels.

“Chris,” said Matthew. He was the only person who ever used that nickname for Christopher besides Anna. “Stop. Who cares if he’s dusty? He was just invisible.”

“But he isn’t any more,” Christopher pointed out.

“We need to get you back to the Institute,” said Matthew to James in a low voice. “If you’re going to start suddenly going all — shadowy — for no reason, then the Silent Brothers —“

“Not the Silent Brothers,” said Thomas. “Just Zachariah.”

JAMES & MATTHEW

The whole way to the Fairchilds’ James had felt as if he were choking, and now he could breathe, the pressure on his chest easing. He couldn’t find words now, couldn’t do anything but clutch on to the front of Matthew’s shirt and put his head down on his shoulder.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia was alone in the hallway. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door to James’ room.

She had never been in a boy’s bedroom before, and it was quite a scandalous action to enter now, but the significance of it seemed small, swallowed up by her worry. James was half under the covers of the bed, moving restlessly from side to side, his face flushed with fever. His nightclothes clung to him, wet with sweat. It was a bright day outside and sunlight speared through the room, illuminating the bowls of burning herbs that Enoch had left behind.

James rolled toward her. His eyes, the color of sunlight, blinked open slowly. “Matthew?” he said. “Matthew, is that you?”

CORDELIA

A betraying hope swelled in her heart and for a moment she allowed herself to imagine being engaged to James, being welcomed into Lucie's family.

JAMES

The moonlight softened the harsh gold of James' eyes to a dark umber. How changed would his life have been if his eyes had not been a sign of his difference?

JAMES & CORDELIA

Cordelia blinked, bewildered. "James?"

"I suffered every thorn for you," he said. "I would again."

JAMES & UNKNOWN GIRL

"Hold my hand, James," she said.

WILL & JAMES ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Matthew told me what happened at the park,” Will muttered in a voice no one but James could hear. James shot a betrayed look at Matthew, who shrugged and gave him a half-smile. Matthew could be relied on to tattle on James if he thought it was for his own good. “Thank the Angel for Matthew and Thomas and Christopher.” He touched James’ face. “I regret ever having said that your generation was wasting its time with parties and boating and dancing. All I wish for you is to be able to amuse yourself in a pointless fashion during peace and never, ever be in danger.”

ANNA & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"To take tea with Anna Lightwood," said Cordelia. "She invited me."

CORDELIA

Cordelia felt her back stiffen. "I accepted the invitation," she said. "I will go."

ANNA & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Anna Lightwood lived on Percy Street, a small byway near Tottenham Court Road. It was made up of long rows of houses of red brick that all looked very much the same. Each had sash windows, white-painted doors, brick chimneys, a shallow set of steps and a fence about the servants’ entrance made of black wrought iron.

On the stairs in front of No. 30, a girl sat crying. She was a very fashionable girl, in a walking-dress of blue foulard with lace trimmings and acres of flounces about the skirt. She wore a head-band trimmed with silk roses, and they wobbled as she cried.

Cordelia checked the address she had written down again, hoping it would have changed. No, definitely Number 30. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and approached.

“Pardon me,” she said, as she reached the steps. The girl was blocking them completely; there was no way to politely edge past. “I’m here to see Anna Lightwood?”

The girl’s head jerked up. She was very pretty: blond and rosy-cheeked, though she’d been crying. She gave Cordelia a deeply wary look. “Who are you, then?”

“I, ah…” Cordelia peered more closely at the girl. Definitely a mundane: no marks, no glamour. “I’m her cousin?”

“Oh.” Some of the suspicion went out of the girl’s face. “I — I am here because —“ She went off in a fresh spate of tears.

“Might I enquire as to the problem? Is there something I can do?” Cordelia asked, though she rather dreaded finding out why as it seemed the sort of thing where she might have to come up with a solution.

“Anna,” the girl wept. “I loved her — I love her still! I would have given it all up for her, all of it, polite society and all its rules, just to be with her, but she has thrown me out like a dog on the street!”

“Now, Emmeline,” drawled a voice, and Cordelia looked up to see Anna leaning out of an upstairs window. She was wearing a man’s dressing gown in rich purple and gold brocade, and her hair was a cap of loose, short waves. “You can’t say you’ve been thrown out like a dog when you’ve got your mama, two butlers, and a footman coming for you.” She waved. “Hello, Cordelia.”

“Oh, dear,” said Cordelia, and patted Emmeline gently on the shoulder.

“Besides, Emmeline,” said Anna. “You’re to be married Wednesday. To a baronet.”

“I don’t want him!” Emmeline sprang to her feet. “I want you!”

“No,” said Anna. “You want a baronet.”

LUCIE & ALASTAIR ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

He might be Cordelia’s brother, but she did not like him above half.

Moreover, at the present moment, he presented the appearance of a lunatic. Beneath his unbuttoned coat his waistcoat was disarranged, and one side of his high wingtip collar was dreadfully askew. His improbably light hair was out of its usual careful shape, pomaded strands going wildly in all directions and glittering electric bright under an arc lamp. On Percy Street, the street lights were older and less reliable, their fierce yellow burn stripping them all down to harsh lines.

“You’ve lost your hat, Alastair,” said Lucie.

Alastair said: “I have lost my sister!”

Lucie went cold. “What do you mean? Has something happened to Cordelia?”

UNKNOWN GIRL

Does love mean anything to you, she said. Or is it just something people give you easily, the way you give toys to a child?

ANNA & GRACE

“I respect a heartbreaker,” said Anna. “People are better off without hearts anyway. But you don’t leave people better off. You’re not a heartbreaker, Grace Blackthorn. You’re a life destroyer.”

MATTHEW & ANNA

"Anna can seduce anyone," said Matthew.

ANNA

"Preferably not boys," said Anna, without looking up. "Then I have to pretend to be interested."

JAMES & ANNA

Anna raised her eyebrow at James as he turned away, but James ignored it. Anna had been raising her eyebrows at him all his life.

ANNA & COUSINS ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Anna’s deep-blue eyes narrowed as she studied him. James was sitting on the edge of his chair, hands clasped together and leaning forward in Anna’s direction. These cousins looked more like brother and sister than James and Lucie, or Anna and Christopher. James’s face was chiseled and serious, while Anna’s features were sharp and roguish, but they shared the same coloring of crow-black hair and snow-white skin. More than that, both had an air of cleverness that seemed thrown up as a defense against sensitivity, sharp minds that shut away hearts too easily broken. Seeing the similarity made Cordelia wonder what had happened to Anna, and fear what might happen to James.

Anna flicked an eyebrow upward, a scratch of ink dashed across a page. “Ah yes, about that. Let me be perfectly clear what you are asking: you want me to seduce a pretty warlock in order to procure you an [item redacted for spoilers!]?”

Anna surveyed the room, and when she was answered with cautious nods she threw her hands into the air.

“You are off your heads, every one of you.”

“Can you not do it?” Thomas asked apprehensively.

Anna toyed with her watch chain so the chain caught the light and glittered. “Oh, I daresay I could.”

There was a collective moan lamenting Thomas’s stupidity in asking such a question. Lucie told Thomas he was a dolt. Thomas begged Anna’s pardon.

“Not at all, Thomas, I know you’re an innocent soul. That said,” Anna drawled, “I take many issues with your request. For a start, it is against my strict policy to seduce anybody twice.”

“Every outlaw must have a code,” James said.

ANNA

"No one ever just wants to have tea," said Anna. "Tea is always an excuse for a clandestine agenda."

ANNA

"Do you think he's in love?" Anna said. "People can be rather awful when they're in love."

MATTHEW

"But is it wise to prove James isn't a lunatic?" said Matthew.

ANNA

"You might leave that to me," said Anna.

LUCIE & GRACE

And there beside her was Grace. Lucie remembered Grace as a determinedly poised twelve-year-old but she was quite different now. Cold and lovely and statuesque.

TATIANA, GRACE, JAMES, LUCIE & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

From where they were, they had a perfect view of James, standing straight and polite as Tatiana Blackthorn, wearing a faded fuschia dresses stained with dark spots, advanced on him, a witchlight torch in her hand.

“How dare you come here, Will Herondale,” she said, a savage tone to her voice. “What is left for you to destroy? You murdered my husband and my father —“

Lucie made a small whimpering noise. Cordelia clutched at her cold hand, squeezing it for comfort.

“That’s James.” It was Grace, dressed all in a long white nightgown with a white dressing-gown over it. White slippers covered her feet and her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. “It isn’t Mr. Herondale, Mama. It’s his son.”

LUCIE & JESSE*

He really did have a most arresting face, Lucie thought. She firmly believed it was all right to stare at people when you were a writer. Writers needed to gather material. That was all there was to it.

* not confirmed, but popularly assumed and not without good reason.

LUCIE & UNKNOWN PERSON

"Miss Herondale?" said a soft voice behind her.

[ most likely JESSE & LUCIE ]

But Lucie was staring at the boy who had come in with them. The boy who she had last seen in Brocelind Forest. Lucie was ten when she met the boy in the forest. Lucie looked for him in the forest after that, but she never saw him again. It would be ten years before she saw him again.

[ these snippets are actually separated but they flow well so I put them together. ]

JESSE

Jesse sighed and looked up at the chandelier. "I have two ages," he said. "I am twenty-four. And I am sixteen."

[ popularly assumed to be JESSE & LUCIE ]

"Can no one else see you?"

JAMES & LUCIE

James went white. "Lucie?"

CORDELIA & JAMES

Not tie him to the bed, Cordelia thought. Not cut his beautiful hair. She loved his hair: it was black like his father's, black as night, dark as a place you could tell secrets in.

ALASTAIR, CORDELIA & MRS BRIDGESTOCK

“Disgraceful,” said Mrs Bridgestock. “I know your face. You are that Persian boy. Are you not ashamed to be running around corrupting nice young people? I suppose you are only following your father’s example, but considering what happened to him, you should really know better.”

Cordelia wished to rush to her brother’s defense, but she did not dare move.

Alastair bared his teeth at Mrs Bridgestock. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

LUCIE & MATTHEW

A coat settled on Lucie’s shoulders, bottle green superfine and warm from the heat of Matthew’s body, smelling of expensive cologne. Lucie glanced up to see Matthew’s face above hers, limned by sunlight and the gold of his hair, serious for once as he carefully buttoned the coat closed. His hands were usually swift and bright with rings, flying through the air when he talked or to the curving hilt of his rapier when he fought, but now they were moving with great deliberation over such a small task. She heard him draw in a slow breath.

JAMES

James' heart lurched in his chest. "We were childhood friends."

UNKNOWN GIRL

"You lied to me," she said.

UNKNOWN BOY ( the person in the pin was a guy )

"You carry my life in those careless hands"

ANNA ( SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR, the pin was four boys )

"Delicate boys must be protected," said Anna.

UNKNOWN BOY

The house has all fallen down into ruins, he said.

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL ( in the pin, they both had dark/brown hair )

We could get married, she said.

JAMES & CORDELIA

To the last hour.

[ according to Cassandra Clare’s The Last Hours Pinterest board. The picture was a girl with red hair and a guy with black hair. Cordelia and James fit the description best. ]

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL

Death is not the end.

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL

The shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

One for all and all for one.

TWO UNKNOWN BOYS

We had grown as gods, as the gods in heaven, souls fair to look upon, goodly to greet, one splendid spirit, your soul and mine.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

All together, or not at all.

TWO UNKNOWN GIRLS

Thank you angels for ensuring she’s a good dancer, loves to dance and takes me out dancing.

[ unsure if the last five are actually snippets, it’s not in the Shadowhunters’ Wikia but it’s on Cassandra Clare’s The Last Hours Pinterest board so I just added them in. ]

#the last hours #tlh #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #cassandra clare #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns

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fandom-go-round · 7 years

Text

Broken: Tony Stark x Fem! Reader

Requests are open still! Another old one shot. Warning for alcohol abuse

You didn’t drink; period. Alcohol did funny things to you and that was if you only drank a little. You didn’t drink because, honestly, you weren’t a happy drunk. You tended to remember when you got drunk and that led to yelling and breaking of priceless vases.

Oh sure, in the beginning you’d be happy and smiles but after that you’d crash; it took another few beers before you were happy again. That’s where the clothing would come off and the dancing began. The last time you well and truly got smashed you woke up in a dumpster across town, butt naked. You still don’t know what happened to this day.

Tony loved to drink; that was obvious. When he found out you didn’t drink, Tony made it his personal goal to get you to loosen up. You thought it was funny at first but after a while it had gotten annoying; you didn’t need his help to loosen up. Besides, there was a reason you didn’t drink but Tony didn’t seem to respect or care.

Because of all this, Tony was determined to get you well and drunk. It turned into sort of a game between the two of you and a way for the two of you to hang out. Tony would drink and try to get weasel you into drinking while you just laughed and treated him like a normal person. Needless to say, the two of you were close friends and you had been on the receiving end of a drunken Tony Stark more than once.

It was because of these reasons that Tony had no idea what to do when he walked into his personal bar and saw you drinking. You were sitting on a bar stool, feet propped up on the counter, taking a swig every now and then. He didn’t say anything, just slowly walked into the room. Before he could speak you looked up and your gazes locked; blood shot red met surprised blue.

“Stark.” You smiled, making the normally happy gesture look more like a war cry. It was more like snarl and Tony felt his hair stand on end; you were dangerous. You chuckled at the look on his face and he forced himself to calm down; it was like you could smell fear. He quickly got himself under control. For God sakes, he picked on the Hulk for fun!

“This is interesting; I thought you hated to drink.” Tony swaggered over to you, taking a seat next to you and you offered him the bottle. He took a swig and handed it back; you drank deeply before setting it on the table. Tony looked more amused than upset. “JARVIS, how long has she been at it?”

“A few hours, sir. This is the third bottle she’s gone through.” Tony made a surprised noise and you just snorted.

“Don’t worry sweetheart; I’m paying you back for all of this.” You gestured to the bottles all lined up in a row. Tony was trying very hard no to laugh; that wouldn’t really help him. Instead, he opened another bottle and gave it to you, making you grin again. “Ahh, good man Stark. Good man.” You drank in silence before Tony had to ask.

“So, what’s the occasion?” You grunted, not understanding. “Why have you suddenly decided to get drunk? Your birthday or something? Dog die?” You laughed at that, head going back and booming laughter shaking the room. You sounded like Thor when he got drunk.

“Hardly. I’m in mourning Stark; I’m not the company you want or need right now.” You acted like you had just closed the conversation but that only made Tony more interested.

“Mourning? For who?” You eyed him, a debate going on inside your mind. Tony watched your eyes go from bright to dull; the alcohol won in the end. You took one last swig before handing him the bottle and waving for him to keep it. You leaned against the bar, eyes looking at him but not seeing. Tony knew you were hiding something and now he was going to know what it was; he could hardly sit still.

“My husband and my daughter.” Tony froze, eyes widening and you chuckled; a mirthless sound. “Surprise you, baby doll? Thought so; you always give me the looks.” That made Tony control himself.

“Looks? What looks?”

“Like I don’t know what good sex is; like I’ve never been with a man before.” Tony snorted and you grinned again, leaning into his personal space. “I’ve gotten those looks all my life Stark; I know what they mean.”

“What do you mean, I give you that look? I’ve never done it.” You snorted, moving out of his personal space; Tony let out his breath. You smirked at him and he stilled. He wasn’t used to being hunted. Tony Stark knew what lust was but that look; like you could have him every way in the world and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Tony felt himself heat up and smirked. He could deal with lust.

“You don’t mean to but you do; I don’t hold it against you.” Tony frowned then, irritated; you acted like you forgave him for some horrible crime. “Oh don’t look at me like that; you know you deserve it.”

“So why did you decide to mourn by drinking? I could have sworn you said you didn’t.” You hummed, looking out the window. You stuck your hand out for the bottle and Tony gave it to you; you passed it back and forth as you began to explain.

“I married a man ten years back; good man, strong. Was a pilot in Her Majesties Royal Air Force,” Here you snorted. “Proudest damn moment in his life, when he was accepted into that.”

“He was British?” Tony was confused; weren’t you an American?

“I went over there one summer to visit a friend who had moved over there; I met him there and we fell in love. When I came back after the summer I found out he got himself transferred over in some exchange program. We were inseparable.” You stopped talking and Tony was going to ask you another question when you began to explain again.

“We had a daughter two years later; Amber. My angel of fire.” Your voice got soft at the end of your sentence, eyes clouding with love and guilt. “She had the same red hair as her father; hair I fell in love with.” Tony snorted and had to ask.

“You have a thing for red heads?” You looked at him, not at all surprised by the question.

“Yup; I’d do Natasha if she was up for it.” Tony waited for you to laugh it off but you didn’t; he was so lost in thought he missed part of what you said next. “…his wee lass and my baby doll. Best moment of my life, bringing her into this world.” Your eyes closed in memory. Tony didn’t try to speak, knowing you would continue now. You kept your eyes closed as you told the next part; voice full of pain and sorrow.

“Two months later he died; shot out of the sky by some terrorists. They brought him back in a black box and refused to show me the body; they gave him a gun salute. I’ve hated the government ever since. I can’t stand the damn politicians who think war will solve problems.

“I didn’t know what to do when he died. It was like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and crushed it beneath their boot. I couldn’t eat or sleep or live; I just drank. I drank until I could see him in front of me and then I drank until I couldn’t see anything. I left my own daughter to die; I didn’t care. My love was gone and I wasn’t going to live without him.

“It wasn’t until my best friend literally beat the shit out of me that I cared and by then it was too late. The courts had ruled I was unfit to be a parent and took my baby from my arms. I would have fallen into depression if my friend hadn’t put me back together.” Now you stopped, looking over at Tony. He was in shook, mouth opened part way and eyes wide. You chuckled again and Tony shuddered. It was a horrible sound.

“Have you seen your daughter since?” Tony had to ask; had to know.

“No; her grandfather sends me pictures every year and I send Christmas presents although she doesn’t know they’re from me. She lives with my husband’s parents, you see and his mother hates me. She blames me for her son’s death. His dad and I still keep in contact, although it’s rare. He tells me how my baby’s doing and I live knowing she’s safe.” Tony scowled at you; you couldn’t be alright with that. You looked at the little kids on sidewalks, how could you be happy not knowing your own daughter?

“And you’re ok with that? With seeing her from the shadows?” You looked Tony straight in the face; you were broken. In this moment you weren’t (Full Name); you were a broken woman with no one to love.

“No, I’m not happy but it’s the price I pay. I fucked up; now I have to live with that.” Tony’s hand slamming into the table made the glasses clink together and almost fall. He was furious; you were stronger than this.

“So you drink yourself into this miserable state every year, mourning for a daughter that’s still alive!?” He was yelling but he didn’t care; this was wrong. This was wrong.

“Yes.” Tony almost hit you; he really did. It was only the look of seriousness on your face that stopped him. “You don’t understand Tony; I can’t see her. I’m not allowed to get anywhere near her.”

“WHY!?” His voice was a roar and you seemed to sink before his rage; tears streaming down your face.

“Because Tony; I’m just full of empty promises, damaged goods. I’m a broken woman and no child needs that in their life.” You stood up, stumbling to the door. You stopped in the door way, leaning on it to support your weight. You looked over your shoulder, eyes flowing with constant tears.

“I promised I’d take care of her Tony; I promised him and I failed. I don’t deserve to see my daughter. No matter how much it kills me on the inside.”

Once you were gone and he could no longer hear your footsteps in the hall, Tony flung his arm out. Bottles crashed onto the floor, causing multi colored glass to fly; it looked like a shattering rainbow.

“Mr. Stark?” JARVIS’s voice was quite, almost gentle in speaking. Tony said nothing, his chest heaving as he tried to control his breathing. He sat back down at the bar, ignoring the glass cutting into the bottom of his feet. He placed his head in his hands and took shuddering breaths, one right after another.

For once in his life, Anthony Stark couldn’t stand to look at a drink.

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