#because he said he sent jace to people he knew would take care of him

[buffyspeak]

the lightwood siblings are literally like. "what if three siblings who genuinely love and would die for each other lash out with the cruelest thing they can think to say when hurt because none of them ever learned proper emotional regulation or communication skills" and that's SO real of them. tbh.

(notably they're all pretty good at/about apologizing when it's called for)

#sorry to exclude max from this but the show did it first #he is simply not around enough to be part of this dynamic #shadowhunters #the lightwood siblings #the lightwoods #do you ever think about how valentine sent jace to MARYSE. TO MARYSE!!! #his second in command his most efficient recruiter who believed in him who left the cause as soon as it became clear they would lose #bc she is first and foremost a Survivor #because he said he sent jace to people he knew would take care of him #screaming crying throwing up. actually #bc that led jace to his siblings!!!!! #like valentine sucks obvi but. wowza there is a lot to unpack there #people might disagree about izzy #but i am thinking about “i'm not your baby sister anymore alec i don't need you to protect me” or something along those lines #and hears the thing #maybe that doesn't SOUND cruel #but she's taling to alec #who knows really well and is a big brother who needs to be needed through and through #she said the cruelest thing to not just anyone BUT TO /HIM SPECIFICALLY/ bc that's how well she knows him #anyway. this is not a hate post. legitimatley i'm so obsessed with all of them

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Dynasty of Flames

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader

Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon's firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth.

Warnings: Incest (duh)

Masterlist

Part 16

It was as if the weight of the entire world was placed on her, like every single sword and dagger was pried apart from that horrendous iron throne and was being stabbed into her all at once. The simple action of breathing too became almost a struggle as she sunk to the floor, clutching her belly while the midwives begged for Rhaenyra to let them help her but she refused to let them come any closer- for she knew it was a lost cause; her baby would never make it.

"Jace" she called out, struggling to even say his name "where’s my son?"

He was sent for in an instant and he arrived twice as fast, accompanied by his brother Luke and Princess Rhaenys.

"Your grace" he greeted, heart racing with fear when he saw the state his mother was in: crouched on the floor in pain and drenched in sweat.

"I am not.." she panted as she let out another agonising scream before she mustered enough strength to form a sentence "I am not going to make it, y-you will take my place as ruler"

Him and Luke exchanged glances.

"What of Y/N?" Jace asked but he was only met with his mother’s screams of torment that came from her being in labour. It hurt Jace to watch his mother in such a state, knowing there was nothing he could do that would provide even an ounce of comfort or relief.

He and Luke helplessly watched, hearts shattering as their mother's screams eventually died down, with Rhaenyra humming a sigh of contentment before she breathed her last.

With a heart as heavy as the very stones used to build the castle, Jace walked toward the council hall, furiously wiping away tears before he could break the news to the others.

"The queen has passed while in labour" he announced, voice cracking involuntarily "she decreed that I am to take her place, as ruler of the seven kingdoms"

Daemon, who was overcome with a wave of sorrow immediately looked up when Jace announced that he was named Rhaneyra's successor.

"That is not true," he said firmly, voice low yet just as authoritative "Rhaenyra named Y/N as her heir, which is something you are well aware of"

"You think I would lie about this?" Jace asked, taking offence immediately to Daemon's tone.

"I wouldn’t be surprised, you weren’t entirely pleased when it was first revealed to you who would be her successor" the king-consort scoffed "but let me be very clear when I tell all of you, the one who is to take the place of my late wife, is my daughter Y/N. She was chosen by the queen herself"

"That might be true yes, but she did happen to change her mind" Rhaenys spoke up "I was there as witness"

"The king consort would know better of his wife's wishes" Daemon snapped, as a reflex. There was no possibility in which Rhaenyra had named him heir, not after the long discussion he had with her to convince her that Y/N was a far better choice "perhaps you are only vouching for him because you wish for your granddaughter to be queen"

"I do not speak just to see my daughter's blood on the throne" Rhaenys interrupted, voice firm with just a hint of venom "I am simply telling what I-"

"Baela is my daughter too, as is Y/N- my firstborn, hence the one-"

"Stop it" Luke's voice drowned theirs as he stepped forward, scorn adorning his face "my queen mother just died and all you care about is who is to wear the crown she left behind? A funeral is to be held, I suggest you take into consideration matters that require to be tended to before you let your ambition take ahold"

Y/N sat by the warm fire in her chambers, busying herself with sorting out her jewellery even though her mind was elsewhere. It had been two days now since Aegon had been crowned king, two days since Rhaenyra's throne was usurped, and two days since Y/N had been removed from the line of succession.

Her and Aemond were still betrothed, but the atmosphere between them was tense. For Aemond, it was as if he was walking on eggshells around her. The same could be said for Aegon; he had tried to talk to her, multiple times in the last few days but the princess always managed to walk out on him before he could utter more than two words.

A gentle knock on the door sounded before they swung open as Aemond walked in, frame as rigid as ever.

"You know when you knock, you’re supposed to wait until you are granted permission to enter," Y/N said without bothering to turn to look at him "or does my betrothed truly no longer hold any regard for his future wife?"

"Y/N stop" Aemond's voice sounded so drained, as if he was tired of her curt nature "you know I would support your claim if Rhaenyra was still the King's heir. We can’t change what he ordered of mother, for Aegon to be king"

"Have you come to repeat to me the same thing you've been telling me for days?" the girl sighed, still pretending to be very busy with the sorting of her jewels "if that is all, I should like to be left alone. Do not bother locking the door like you did on the day of the coronation, I do not have the strength to run-"

"A raven from Dragonstone arrived earlier" he interrupted, which made the princess finally turn to face him. He lifted his hand to show to her the brown scroll of parchment he was holding "it's for you"

Y/N remained seated and Aemond got the hint and walked toward her to hand it to the girl. His fingers brushed her soft skin and he immediately reached out with his other hand to hold her's in his, eye looking down at her pleadingly.

"How much longer?" he asked, his mask slipping as he looked at her with so much hurt and sadnesses in his eyes that it almost made Y/N's heart melt "for how long is this conflict between us going to last?"

Y/N gaze dropped to their hands and she instinctively gave him a warm squeeze. She loved him, of course she still did but she was still hurting from all that had happened. As her gaze lingered on their hands, her head tilted slightly in confusion.

"The seal is broken" she stated, pulling her hand away from his to look at the letter before she looked up at him "did you.."

"No, I wouldn’t intercept your letters" he said instantaneously, as if that was something she should already know "it was my grandfather, he didn’t want you to have this. But Aegon swiped it from his study and handed it to me, to give to you"

"Aegon?" the princess raised a brow.

"He really does care for you, despite what the situation is right now" Aemond sighed, holding his hands behind his back "as do I"

Y/N only breathed a sigh before she rolled open the parchment, eyes scanning over the words sprawled hastily. She recognised her father’s handwriting along with his choice of language he'd used: High Valyrian.

Aemond watched as Y/N's face went from curious to serious to sad all in a matter of a few minutes. Her bottom lip began to quiver as she gripped the parchment harshly, visibly shaking. Aemond immediately went on his knees to level with her, his one hand gently resting on her knee as his other came to sweetly graze her cheek.

"What is it?" he asked, full of worry as Y/N clenched her jaw, trying her very best to keep those tears from spilling as her lilac eyes brimmed with them. Her breaths became more ragged, almost as if she was struggling to breathe to begin with.

"Y/N?" Aemond asked again just as a single tear slid down her cheek that Aemond caught with the pad of his thumb, wiping it away "say something, talk to me"

"It- its.." the girl's voice cracked and she heaved another sigh to compose herself "It's Rhaenyra, she has passed"

Aemond removed his hand from her knee to hold her hand instead, which was still aggressively gripping the paper that was beginning to rip. He didn’t know what he could say that might provide some sort of comfort.

"And Jace claims that he was named heir, he announced it before the council at Dragonstone" she said through gritted teeth. His mother had passed and he immediately seized the moment to call himself next in line? If it wasn’t for Aegon, she would be on that throne right now "that throne isn’t Jace's just as much as it isn’t Aegon's"

"Y/N.." Aemond began but she cut him off.

"I would have been queen, you would’ve been my king," she said shutting her eyes as more tears spilt. She leaned into him, her forehead resting against his "if you had just listened to me and convinced your mother to not proceed with that coronation, you would be ruling at my side"

Aemond took a deep breath. He had to admit that he would make a much better king than Aegon, that was something he firmly believed for years now and the thought of ruling beside his queen Y/N was something he had thought of a lot ever since she had told him Rhaenyra had chosen her as heir. Still, what was done was done, he couldn’t change the late king's mind on who should rule nor could he just go up to his brother and ask him to get off the throne.

"It's over and done with" he sadly told her as he held her in a close embrace.

"It's not over Aemond" Y/N softly replied. Even though her voice was calm, there was a fire burning inside of her and Aemond could tell she wasn’t going to give up so easily "Jace will fight his way to the throne, he will not give up his dream of becoming king. Nor will I give up mine of being queen, something that was stolen from me. I will take back what is mine, does not matter who I must fight- be it Aegon or Jace, fire will reign"

AN: Another filler, but don’t worry, next chapter is going to be a long one

Taglist: @ladybug0095 @sahvlren @bunny24sstuff @dellalyra @ellabellabus07 @champomiell @fan-goddess @lilostif16

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #tom bennett #world on fire #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond headcanons #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon smut

[moonflower91]

do you think saerah would ever intentionally make aemond jealous to rile him up or would it purely be accidental since i know she said she wouldn’t be with another man and didn’t like aemond being with someone else. either way since aemond is to wed the baratheon girl how would he react if one of the sons of house tyrell (without their permission) comes to ask for saerah’s hand in marriage thinking this would be the best time to since the upcoming war requires alliances

I feel that Saerah would kinda do it intentionally but not necessarily to rile up Aemond but to throw courtiers off. Like she has never made it a secret that she desired Aemond so I think to navigate court life, she would definitely flirt a little bit to keep people guessing what her intentions are, a sort of armour. But she never outright would betray Aemond’s trust. Aemond, while he knows it’s a strategic maneuver, honestly fucking seethes when another man’s eyes lingers on her body for too long.

However, Aemond’s betrothal to the Baratheon girl completely wrecked Saerah, for want of a better term.

Logically, she knows Aemond doesn’t want it either. Knows it’s for their survival in the upcoming war, but feelings don’t follow logic. She feels betrayed. Hurt. Like a scorned woman. She wants to claw the other woman’s eyes out but also feed Aemond to Vexxa.

But she also wants to run away—not with Aemond, because she’s still too hurt (he didn’t even tell her he was offering himself up for marriage) but away from Aemond. Back to Highgarden, across the sea to Pentos. Just away.

But she can’t. She’s stuck in Kings Landing, forced to tolerate her Aemond’s intended as her father sent her from Storms End to ensure the marriage was honoured once the war was done.

And as Aemond predicted, the Tyrell’s arrived at Kings Landing, bringing thousands of men and thousands more provisions with them. There was no outward demand for repayment, but everyone knew: The Tyrells came to make a marriage.

“I am not a milking cow to be sold at your pleasure!” Saerah howled in the Small Council chamber.

“You are not a woman free of duty and obligation, either, Princess.” Lord Lannister replied from his seat.

“It is a fine match.” The Lord Hand, her grandfather, said. “You can do far worse, girl. You’ll be lady of the Reach, wife of one of the richest lords in the land.”

“Very pretty things for a very pretty price of me in his bed. Would any of you like to offer yourself up instead?” She bit out, glancing around the table at the men, avoiding casting her mother a look out of respect. “I mean if the rewards are so sweet, do not any of you wish to take my place.”

“Saerah.” Her mother admonished.

The princess sighed, casting her eyes downward. Already this felt like a lost battle. Aemond was to be wed to the Baratheon girl and she would make her home here beside him. And Saerah would be shipped away again to Highgarden, this time with a husband on her arm.

Still, she tried again. “I…only mean to say, there are others to consider. The Eyrie, the North, and perhaps even one from Dorne. Why not keep the options open until we’ve a better handle on this war.” She made careful sure to exclude western options, still feeling greedy emerald eyes on her form.

Otto shifted in his chair, a sharp sigh hissing from his nose. “I know this is not the match you desire, granddaughter. And neither would the Eyrie, North or Dornish houses would be your preference.” Her lilac eyes flickered up to his, cheeks heating at the fact that was spat like an insult. “Nevertheless, the Tyrell’s have been good friends of the Crown and it does us no good to drive them into our enemies’ beds.”

“And who would Viktor Tyrell marry? Rhaenyra’s only daughter is dead, Baela and Rhaena promised to Jace and—“ damn it all. It had been short weeks since Lucerys’ death, and oftentimes Saerah found herself forgetting.

“Yes, now she understands it.” Lord Lannister murmured into his wine cup. Saerah wishes for Aemond’s strength then, so she might show his pompous face into that cup, breaking glass over his skin. It did not escape her notice that Aemond was absent from the room, and Saerah wondered if the Council acted with stealth, silently inviting her to treat with them and bring this offer to her without Aemond’s interference.

Even still. Saerah’s cold, embittered heart wondered if he would even care. He certainly sold himself into marriage easily enough.

“Rhaena is a far lesser prize than you are, sweet girl.” Her mother murmured, her wide eyes looking imploringly up at her youngest daughter. “Pride is a fragile thing. Deny the Tyrell’s what they desire and every man outside those gates holding a golden rose banner…they will disappear and show up on Dragonstone.”

“Mother, I…”

Alicent sighed. “Just…have an open heart, my dear. You got on well enough at Highgarden.”

Viktor Tyrell gifted her with a beautiful diamond necklace upon their meeting again. It was a private enough meeting—he had come to her chambers, his own servant in tow who carried a gorgeous velvet box. She promised to wear it to the feast that night, held in welcome for their new friends from the Reach.

It was heavy and cold as a chain around her neck. And Aemond took notice at once.

“‘Tis a pretty necklace, sister.” He murmured to her softly, leaning closer to her side. They sat at the high dais, their new king sat at the centre, Helaena sat to his left, and the Hand at his right. Viktor sat beside Otto, and thankfully, she Aemond and his Baratheon girl sat beside Helaena.

The black haired girl in question had gotten up to dance and it was only then that Aemond dared speak to her. Another slight to her poor heart.

“A gift. From Lord Tyrell.” She replied, taking a bite of pigeon.

“Hm. Generous of him.” He hummed, eye flickering back to the other man in question. “Not really the gift of friendship, though, is it?” Saerah did not reply. “More that of what a man might offer his wife.” Again Saerah did not react. “Or his whore.”

Her fist met the table and although the music did not cease, she could feel multiple eyes on her. “Gift one to your Baratheon girl, brother.” Aemond’s lilac eye bore into hers, burning. She hated that she could not hate him. This hurt may not feel so much like betrayal, then. “It is a very pretty betrothal gift, after all.”

“He put you in chains, Saerah.” He growled lowly in High Valyrian. “Say the word, and he’ll have disappeared before dawn.”

“He’s a good man, Aemond.” She murmured back, taking up a little carrot with her fingers.

“Not for you he’s not.”

Aemond did not make life easy for Viktor at court. Saerah was never sure what Aemond did, but over the next month so noticed Viktor lost a bit of weight and had dark circles under his eyes.

#game of thrones #asoiaf #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x sister!oc #jealousy #arranged marriage #angst

[starshipsofstarlord]

There was a Girl...

Pairing | Jace Wayland x reader

Summary | When Clary becomes a shadowhunter, she notices how cold and ruthless Jace is. Every one seems to relate to his pain, not resonating at quite the same level. They’re all mourning nevertheless.

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief smut (handjob), angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (for Clary)

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Opening your eyes, you awoke to Jace's chest, his blonde hair falling over his face. You preferred how it looked when it was a little bit scruffy instead of slicked back, and you reached for one of the hanging strands. They were like seams of gold, reflecting from the light that hid within him.

Most people had the wrong perspective on the young man, they only saw a well skilled shadow hunter. But they ignored the smart and witty, yet simultaneously charming person that he was underneath all of his runes. His parabatai Alec was familiar with the set of abilities that his brother figure had, and all that he would accomplish. People thought, because of Jace’s distorted, and confusing past, that he was just another warrior to serve whatever institute that he was sent to.

But in fact, he was not. His duty would always be, to put his family and friends first. He liked to put you on the top of the list, but you always felt the need to scrap that idea, claiming that you could not be his priority from start to finish. It was as though you knew what you future held for you, and how indeed, he could not manage to protect every person that he cared about. The prospect was a great responsibility, far too much for one shadow hunter, even if they be among the best of their kind.

To put such a weight on your own shoulders was defiantly cruel, it would always end in failure, no matter what was done to prevent said downfall. There was never a possibility of saving everyone, that was insanity. The monsters had to kill, in order for you all to remain outside of Idris, and continue on with your heaven sent duty.

“Jace?” You could tell he was awake from how he smiled at the sound of your voice. “Come on.” It was an attempt to encourage him, but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t working. He didn’t like mornings all that much, for good reason too, after all you were shadowhunters.

“Jace.” Your voice became louder and clearer, up to the point where it no longer sounded like your own. He looked away from the screen, to see the new girl watching him. She had an expectant glaze to her green eyes, which were much different from the shield that was covering his own. His pools were surrounded by a shadow of grief, pulling down the entirety of his face to the point where it looked as though he no longer wanted to live.

And that wasn’t entirely incorrect, he struggled at life, often never finding a moment of happiness, and if he did, then he would paint a smile upon his face and wear it to satisfy everyone else around. He had tried to cope with the loss that burdened his heart so gravely, yet nothing made it feel okay. You’d want him to move on, whether it be to lose his vengeful esteem concerning your passing, or find someone else to confide in late at night, to stay up with talking as his head rested upon the pillow, that he needed to wash, so it didn’t smell like you.

Or even, if not to share a bed with this new person, your overall plan as you sat with the angels above would be to find some kind of peace. But that appeared to be the last thing that he wanted as he digitally scoured the city of New York for monsters to uncover, and kill. If he couldn’t protect you, the love of his life, then he would settle for doing so with humans, after all, that had been the way that you had gone. The job had been your passion, yet simultaneously your downfall, and he’d be fine if one of these days he failed to tackle a beast, and it got to him first.

“Clary.” He greeted her, wanting to remove a dangerous monster from the streets by decapitating it. In memory, he would use your favourite blade, spilling blood upon its glowing stake to keep your legacy continuing, although, it did not do much but serve to release Jace’s frustrations. It was a day in which he wanted to speak to nobody, have nobody following him, nor asking him mundane questions about what it meant to be a shadowhunter. Hell, he didn’t even know! To him, the lifestyle was nothing more than accommodated anguish, though, he had been told not to promote it using those words, otherwise, there wouldn’t exactly be many people lining up to join the adverse fight.

And one of the people that he had in mind concerning excitement over a dire and ‘exciting’ lifestyle was Clary. She was naive, and whilst she didn’t know everything, today wasn’t particularly the day in which he wished to explain it to her. It, being predominantly anything. Whilst he had managed to be nice to her during the first few days, it was out of courtesy, considering Alec had an instant distaste towards the wide eyed redhead; he wasn’t sure why, but he supposed that Clary could see a detail of himself that was hidden from the others.

However, even through Jace’s welcoming exterior, was in pain. The feeling tormented him, denying him a break from the patronising pressure, leaving him to hold blame to nobody but himself. The hurt was cemented into his eyes, reflecting as he watched all other tragedies with a stone cold expressions, them hardly affecting him, because he had and was experiencing the worst routine of torture that was possible to him. He had watched you die, and nothing could take those horrific memories from him, no matter how much he wanted them gone.

That was the last time that he saw you. When you passed in his arms, a large wound in your abdomen pouring out with blood, drowning his desperate hands as he tried his utmost to put pressure on the life threatening injury. He wanted to save you but he didn’t know how, his training had always claimed that killing the monsters was more important than saving the life of a shadowhunter from an unknown bloodline. There had been nothing to prepare him for that day in the field, he was a fighter, and taught to be so, not a healer; he wasn’t a medic, he was just a warrior. “What do you want?” Blatantly fell from his round lips as he cast an eye towards the newbie, unimpressed by her timing, or her presence at all.

Clearly, she hadn’t received the memo to leave him be, especially today out of all the rest. Alec, having the personalised intel as to why Jace was emitting a solitary rut understood why he wished to be alone, and respected the space, granting him as much time to himself as he wanted. And whilst Alec was your friend also, he could feel the deep longing that was stabbing his parabatai in the chest, and it killed him too. Your death had been so unexpected, and now without you, there was a void within the institute. And the archer felt as though Clary was trying to fill it, and he saw that as nothing more than disrespect, though she was probably ignorant to the history that wandered the halls.

Her face revelled back at his tone, but nevertheless she continued on with her prying. “I was wondering if I could join you on the hunt, I’m getting better, Izzy even said so.” Jace refrained from rolling his eyes, and contained the feeling that was trying to burst out of his chest. It was anger, directed at everyone that was still alive, including himself. There was no fairness in it, to say that he was sad was an understatement, he was eternally devastated, the death of you had broken him, crumbled him into a figure that he no longer recognised.

“No, you can’t Clary.” He dismissed her, walking away, and going to grab his seraph so that he could hunt this sucker down, and bring upon the same kind of pain to its family as its kind had down to him. God, did you look badass as you swung it, and the thought alone had tears resonating in his unmatched eyes, thinking of how it was the last relic that remained of you.

Walking casually into the armoury, Jace had his hands prized in the depths of his pockets, as his expert and quick fleeting eyes focalised on you, and the weapon within your hold. Your body leant in harmony with the blade, the sound of it woosh-img in the air satisfying to all that could hear; that being only you and the Wayland boy.

“Can i not train in peace?” You groaned, lowering the blade whence you realised that you were being watched. The eyes trailed up your side where your shirt had ridden up, raking over the rune that you had drew upon your skin only this morning. A light laugh fell from Jace’s lips as he stalked forward, taking your seraph out of your hand, and going to lob it upon the ground, but the stern look in your eyes stopped him. Instead, against his nature, he placed it down as though it were made of glass, and rose to stand before you once more.

“Not when you look that good.” The blonde retorted with a sly smirk, sliding his hands up the sides of your hips, finding absolute solace in the feel of your skin. He could be against you forever, and he would not complain, so long as it did last for such a time. “Makes me want to do things to you y/n y/l/n. Terrible things. What would the heads think?” He asked, in reference to those that were in charge of the institute.

Stifling down remarked laughter at his sensually intended words, you raised your forefinger to the space above his brows, and poked him with enough pressure, so that he would pay attention to the notion. “That you’re not thinking with your own.” You went to cross your arms, but instead, Jace grabbed them, moving down to cast his hand over your own.

“Oh, I’m not.” The shadowhunter confirmed, placing your hand upon the crotch of his sweats, applying enough force behind his grip so that you could feel him twitching. “I am indeed having thoughts from elsewhere, would you like to see my sweet?” Licking your lips, you nodded, watching as he peeled the layer away, wrapping your hand around his base, and giving him a few jerks, feeling his pulse race through his cock.

“Tell me more about what you’re thinking my love.” You bit your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, only to reverberate a groan from the blonde male. He panted as your pace quickened, and he was almost certain that he was going to spray his jizz all over the floor if you did not uphold your sexual administrations. His head leant back, as pleasured sounds broke through the clenching of his teeth.

And then, it all stopped as a voice, dressed in absolute disgust, written over with unmotivated shock, interrupted your little exchange. “Really guys, this is a gym, not your damned bedroom. The two of you really are disgusting!” It was Alec, and he cringed at the fact that he had seen his best friend’s cock being stroked in your grasp. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be training today, or at least, not in the asserted place for it.

“Clary.” Izzy called her name, wearing a short lived smile. Whence she studied the expression of the redhead, she was quick to pay attention to the disappointment upon her face. There was confusion laddered in her skin, masking it with creased that made her look worried all at the same time. “What happened?” The Lightwood woman asked concerned, bracing a hand upon said girl’s shoulder.

“Jace snapped at me.” The newcomer informed her, frowning at the prospect, and then after all that, he had stormed off, as though she didn’t even matter. She felt well and truly rejected, like a newspaper that had been tossed in the street, and ending up in a horrible puddle. “I thought he might have liked me, but his attitude says otherwise.”

Izzy twitched her nose; she knew what day it was. There was no way to break it to Clary easy that Jace had no amorous emotions towards her, and so instead of being blunt with the new resident at the institute, she decided to tell the woman a story. “There was a girl...” she began, knowing that after all was explained, that Clary would understand.

#jace wayland imagines #jace wayland x reader #Jace herondale x reader #jace wayland x yn #jace smut #Jace Wayland smut #Jace x reader #jace wayland x you #jace wayland imagine #Jace Wayland one shot #shadowhunters oneshot #shadowhunters x reader #shadowhuntersjace #shadowhunters imagine #shadowhunters fic #shadow hunters x reader #dominic sherwood x reader #dom x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader

[beclynn-herondale]

Jace, Kit, and Mina shenanigans

Jace was visiting with Kit; Clary was spending time with her mother and Luke, as she always did when Jace went on his monthly visit to Kit. And they would tell each other all about their day when they went to bed together that night.

Jace would never have said it out loud but he wanted Kit to rely on him and need him, he wanted to be needed by him. He wanted Kit to trust him, but more than that he wanted Kit to know he really did care for him.

Tessa had also recently had her baby, Mina. She had said Jace should come by and meet her.

Tessa and Jem were good people, and Jace just hoped Kit wouldn't be like he was and push away from his found family, and hold them at a far distance. But he remembered people had to follow their own journey and learn things for themselves. He just wanted Kit to be happy. But Jace also knew, like him, Kit had some baggage and it made it difficult.

"Jace?" said Kit. They were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

"Yeah. . .?" he said, realizing he hadn't been listening for the last few minutes.

"You didn't hear what I said, did you?" Kit sighed.

"I was zoning out thinking of interesting things," he teased.

"Probably not that interesting, considering it's you," Kit shot back playfully.

Jace grinned. This kid would be just fine, he thought.

"So," said Jace, "you're a big brother now."

"Yup. And I'll be great at it."

"There you go. There's the Herondale in you."

Kit stared at him with amusement, then said, "Tessa says you should hold Min Min."

"Min Min? Is that a  another nickname of hers?" If so Jace had to admit it was very cute.

"Yes. She has many nicknames," said Kit. "Because she is adorable."

"Kids and babies usually are."

Kit looked up. "You like kids, don't you?"

"They're alright."

Kit looked at him suspiciously. "Uh, huh." He then asked. "Well, are you and your hot fiancée Clary gonna have any?"

Jace choked on his tea. "What—what?" He thought he was probably flushing, as Clary always made him do even when she wasn't around. And Kit calling Clary that should be weird but he wasn't wrong, Clary was hot and his fiancée.

"Just saying, I'd make an amazing babysitter," Kit winked. "And I could teach your children all about memes and the future stuff, as well as turn them into my side. along with Mina. of course. They would be the best generation yet."

"Pffft," Jace let out.

It's true Jace and Clary had talked about having kids, but it was never a definite serious talk. Though Jace did want kids. "Why are you asking me this?"

"No reason."

"Uh, huh," he said. That was their thing, 'Uh, huh.'

Jem walked in then, holding who Jace assumed was Mina. "Hello, Jace," said Jem. "How are you?" He was smiling the warm smile that he he always had these days; Jace had thought it was the kind of smile that made you want to open up and trust. Jem was that kind of person who radiated kindness and warmth and goodness.

"I'm doing just fine," he said. "What about you?"

"I am amazing," he exclaimed. "Silly melon, is so beautiful and precious." Another cute nickname, he thought. "Would you like to hold her?" Jem asked.

"I. . .uh. . .sure," Jace said, hearing the unsureness his own voice, not knowing why it was there. Jem placed Mina in his arms; he couldn't help but remember holding Max for the first time, remembering that for the first time he had been absolutely terrified. Babies had always seemed so small and fragile to him, and at that time he had no idea how they worked. Of course, after Max Jace figured out that as he had said, they were tough. Max was not so little anymore, and now was on about killing all the demins, Jace was a very proud uncle. He looked down at Mina, she looked like Jem, he thought, but he could see Tessa as well. "Hello, Mina," he said.

The baby opened her eyes, looking up at Jace with an expression of curiosity. well, he assumed that's what it was. "curious are we?"

"She is," Kit put in. It was such a sibling thing, he thought.

Jem was watching the three of them with fondness, and a little sadness. Jace wondered if he was thinking of his parabatai Will Herondale; Jem had told Jace about him, and couldn't imagine not having Alec or being alive without Alec. It had made Jace feel a deep kind of sympathy for Jem.

Jace repositioned Mina in his arms so he could look her in the eyes. "So," he said. "Are you going to prank and trick your big brother?"

Kit stuck his tongue out at Jace, and Jace rewarded Kit by sticking his own tongue out right back at him.

Mina giggled, Jace felt his heart skip a beat. He'd made her giggle. It reminded Jace of hearing Max giggle for the first time, it had instantly defeated Jace, in a sense. Blueberry had had a place in Jace's heart from the beginning, Jace couldn't help but want to protect him, it had been the same with Rafe, and even young Emma and her braveness. And Jace thought it would probably be the same with Kit and Mina; he had a soft spot for kids. He had also realized that he had cared for Max, his little brother, the same. But that was a place that Jace tried not to venture to, as it only broke his heart all over again. Jace remembered how Izzy had told him that Max died clutching the toy soldier he'd given him all those years ago, it had shaken Jace. Max's death would always leave a missing piece in their family.

"I take that giggle as a yes," he said.

Jem laughed softly.

"Or," Kit said, "we might prank you endlessly and be chaotic rascals that haunt you."

"Bring it on, Kittiroo," Jace said, using the nickname he had for Kit. Knowing it was longer than his actual nickname but he gave a nickname to kids he liked. And Kit liked it, but would never admit it, ever.

"Whatever, Jacey Jace," he said.

They laughed.

——————

[ Two years later ]

Mina was now two, which meant her and her big brother Kit were up to no good when they came to visit or Jace went to visit them.

They both enjoyed playing tricks on Jace. And to think he made them cookies and tea. And played piano for them.

Jace was walking down one of the Institute corridors, looking through the open doors along their walls, trying to see if he could find the little trouble makers.

He was peering through one of the empty rooms when something came up behind him and said "Boo!"

He turned around, pretended to be scared as he saw it was little Mina. "Oh, you got me," he said.

She laughed. "I always get you."

He smiled at her. "Where's Kit?"

She shrugged.

"Little loyal one, you are," he said. "But if you tell me where he is, I'll give you a cookie."

Mina seemed to be considering this. "Come," she said.

Mina led him to another empty room, where they found Kit.

"Traitor!" he said.

"It's not her fault—" Jace began.

"Not Mina. You," Kit pointed. "I know you bribed her with cookies. You know we can't resist cookies."

"What can I say," said Jace. "I'm a master at bribery."

"Uh, huh," Kit said with a kind of sassy sarcasm. Kit also said 'Uh, huh.' in a way to say he is amused but very doubtful

"Hey, man. I can't help it, cookies are good," said Mina.

"It's not your fault, Min Min," said Kit. "It's the bad man's fault."

Jace gasped in pretend hurt. "The very implicaction of that is hurtful."

"Good," Kit said.

And Jace went over to lift the boy up. "You forget I'm bigger and stronger than you."

"No!" exclaimed Kit, but he was laughing, and Jace always liked to hear him laugh out loud.

"Fight him off, Kit," said Mina.

They ended up wrestling on the floor with Mina cheering for Kit like the loyal sister she was. Them when they were both tired they burst into laughter.

——————

Kit, Jace, and Mina were sitting on a couch while Jem talked about reincarnation; 2 old Mina wore a serious face for her age.

"You see this is why I believe in it so strongly," said Jem, beaming.

"Yes, I see," said Jace.

"It is interesting," Kit said.

Mina nodded.

"Just think about it," Jem said, "you come back in a different form or something new after you die."

Jace wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, and by the look on Kit's face it appeared he felt the same.

"So is that why I'm so exhausted?" asked Kit, "because I've lived so many lives? And keep doing this shit again?"

It was a fair question to ask, Jace thought.

"Kit, no," said Jem. "And don't say that word in front of Min Min."

"Alec says something like that to me all the time," Jace put in. "Except it's usually 'Jace no!'"

"Yeh, well, you're both chaotic dum dums," said Mina.

They all looked at her.

"Wat?" she said.

Jem seemed to be wearing a look of amused agreement.

She was two and yet so smart, and had so many words at times.

"I prefer the term not afraid to take chances," said Jace.

"It's a Herondale thing," put in Kit.

Jace grinned at him. "There you go, bud."

Mina rolled her eyes, she also had a lot of sass for her age. Jem stared at them with a sort of affectionate exasperation.

——————

Jace was sitting beside Kit while he showed him memes and what they meant. Mina came to sit down beside them.

"Jace," she said.

"Yeah, Mina?"

"So you're like my great kind of nephew, right?"

"Great great great or something, yeah."

"So than I am like your great something aunt?"

"Yeah. . ." This would never not be weird.

"Does that mean I get to boss you around?"

Jace didn't know what to say to this.

Kit looked up from his screen. "Wait, does that mean technically I'm your adoptive great something uncle, now?"

"I. . ." Jace had to admit he didn't know what to say to any of this. "Are you two trying to confuse me?" he asked.

They both grinned mischievously.

Jace sighed.

"Hey, dear Nephew," Kit said. "Make me some cookies."

"Dear Nephew," Mina added. "Get us tea."

"You two think you're hilarious."

"Wrong," said Kit, "we know we're hilarious."

"Yeah well," Jace said, pulling them both into the hug, "I'd like to see you get free from my hug."

"No!" They both exclaimed, then tried to get free which turned into laughter from them all.

——————

Jace heard his phone buzz. He looked at it and saw that it was a message from Kit, he'd sent Jace a meme. Jace didn't always understand them, but apparently they were like jokes. He replied with laughing emojis. 

He exited his messaging app and stared his phone background; it was a picture of Max, Rafe, Mina, and Kit in the art room with Clary, who was teaching them to paint. He smiled at it. It was odd to say, but they were his kids in a way and he felt this strong urge to protect them from the world that would try to shut out their light.

He remembered the first time Kit had seen he'd taken picture and used it as his phone background. Kit looked surprised, as if he couldn't think of why Jace would do that. Jace ruffled his hair and quoted one of his memes to him that day. Kit liked to communicate with memes, and so Jace tried his best. Kit had also called Jace a mom a few times, though he wasn't sure why.

His phone buzzed again. This time it was Emma, her message said, "We need to form the sword-blondes club *winking emoji*" Jace couldn't help but laugh, then replied, "The world would've be able to handle that."

He had so many kids and young people who were dear to him now. Sometimes he thought back to his old self, who didn't have much of anyone and who believed that love was weakness. But now, when he looked at these kids, he knew that was lie. Now, he knew he was strongest because of love. He barely remembered it, but thought about the time he first met Jem, he'd been Brother Zachariah then. He'd told him, 'We fight best when that which we love is on the line.' or something along those words. It made Jace smile, to think somehow all this connected, the universe was a strange thing.

He then looked down at the engagement ring on his left ring finger. At some point him and Clary would work toward building a family, and have kids of their own. It both excited and frightened Jace; he wanted to be a father, of course. But he didn't want to snap one day and see his father come out, he didn't want his children to ever have to see something like that. Clary told him he wouldn't be like that, and she was always right, usually. These kids in his life now though, he felt were proof that he could be a good father.

He opened his phone back up and texted Kit a meme.

He was rewarded with, "Well, I'll be damed. He's learning!"

Jace replied with, "Watch your language."

"You watch your own language, Mr. acts like my parent."

Jace laughed. Kids were so odd yet so precious, they were the future, he thought.

Tagging: especially @khaleesiofalicante because she is having Jace and Kit feels, and I think she'll appreciate this. @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys

#jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #kit herondale #mina carstairs #jem carstairs #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #tda #twp #tsc fanfiction #tmi fanfics #gotsm #bec's fanfics #clace #clary fairchild

[amchara]

Road to Hell (Wait for Me, I’m Coming) Part Two - Kit / Ty Hadestown AU

(Part One)

Ty rubbed his face tiredly, as he stared at another chicken-scratch parchment in the Unseelie Court’s library. He looked up and saw that Dru was fast asleep, gently snoring into her crossed arms, while Anush was dazedly flipping through pages of a huge leatherbound book. Mark had left a while ago, muttering something about getting some food for them but he hadn’t returned yet.

Ty looked down at his research, the collected notes he had written over the last day and a half and suddenly it seemed pitiful, compared to the task ahead. Ty could feel the panic rising, his chest tight and he concentrated on the feel of the rough paper underneath his fingertips. He had to get Kit out of Hell and he was taking notes, like he was back in the Scholomance and this was an assignment, instead of… instead of the most important fucking thing in the world.

He hadn’t told Kit how he felt yet. They had only just re-entered each other’s lives over the past two months and were still doing a wary dance as they relearned each other’s steps after three years apart.

There had been a hesitant scene in the L.A. Institute’s atrium when Kit had strolled in, almost as if he had never left, all sunshine gold hair, eyes the colour of a clear autumn sky, and a husky voice with just the slightest hint of an English accent.

There had been the angry, sparse time when Helen had sent them on a patrol together and they had strode along in miserable silence until Kit had finally stopped him and asked where Livvy was- and Ty had snapped back at him, the wound still raw, that he was trying to make amends for everything he’d done but he’d had to do it alone and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. The fragile moment when Kit’s face had crumpled briefly and he told Ty he was sorry he had left and that Ty had had to do it alone. And the appearance of the Raum demons a minute later, interrupting them- but then the glimpse of how it could be, as Kit had stopped him after the attack and insisted on drawing the iratze on Ty’s forearm, his face a study of concentration as they sat in the car before driving back to the Institute.

There had been fleeting, glorious moments in the training room when they had sparred, the pretence of combat a freeing sensation for Ty, as he felt able to finally touch Kit and the look Kit had given him, his breath an uneven whisper on Ty’s collarbone after he pinned him to the floor, almost helping Ty make his decision. But it hadn’t been enough - and the agonising choice of whether to knock - and still being a coward and walking away, almost too quickly, from Kit’s door.

And then that moment in the clearing. When Kit had done the stupid, honourable Herondale thing and sacrificed himself for the rest of them. Ty didn’t think he’d do the same if the situation was reversed - but then again, he was a Blackthorn.

From far away, he could hear a tearing, ripping sound and he came back to himself, noting the confetti of yellow parchment floating down to the ground around him, as he paced back and forth, paper strewn around him and his hands moving almost mechanically as he shredded his carefully taken notes.

Anush looked over at him, finally noticing Ty’s pacing and his eyes widened. And just then, Mark re-appeared in the doorway, carrying a large tray. He let out a curse as he saw Ty, almost knocking over the tray in his hurry to put it down. He crossed the room quickly to stand in front of Ty, gentle as he placed his hands over his brother’s as he clasped them a firm grip. This time, Ty let him in and he drew in a few deep, shuddering breaths as he let the small remains of paper drop.

“It’s all right,” he told Mark. “I have them all memorised.”

Mark nodded. “It’s wise to not leave the notes to Hade unguarded,” he said. He paused. “Although perhaps a bit unkind to the brownie cleaners - but no matter, I’ll arrange to speak to them.”

There was a stretch of silence. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Ty said. “I can’t wait too long- we don’t know if time moves differently in Hades compared to the rest of Faerie and I can’t risk it.”

Mark’s eyes searched Ty’s face - not seeking eye contact but a different kind of reassurance. He seemed to find it, and he dropped Ty’s hands. “Then we’ll prepare to go together - you’re not going alone,” he said. A chorus joined in - a rousing if slightly terrified response from Anush, and a sleepy affirmation from Dru, who appeared to have just woken up.

Ty felt a brief moment of terror that he was bringing more people into what his research told him was likely a suicide mission… but the ice cold shiver of memories and Livvy’s pleading, drained face swam into view and he swallowed his protests. He didn’t think he could go through it alone again.

—

The ivory keys of the grand piano were always immaculately polished and Kit wondered whose job it was to clean them. His job was to play the music and he thanked - well, it wasn’t God and it wasn’t the Angel Raziel - but he thanked his lucky stars that he had picked up some basic songs from Jace the previous summer when he had visited the New York Institute, and that Jem had considered learning to read music by sight an essential part of a well-rounded education, alongside Kit’s Shadowhunter training and mundane school.

In contrast to the bright electric fluorescence that lit the warren of overly warm machinery-filled rooms that Kit had started to refer to as Hadestown, Persephone’s conservatory was different, with its faded white, latticed walls and high glass ceilings letting in the smallest fraction of outside light.

It reminded him of where he had lived with Jem, Tessa and Mina - in… C- In Cir- Kit’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know how long he had been here - the days were starting to blur together and he was worried he was starting to forget more than just the little things.

He stared down at the piano keys as the large ornamental clock on the wall struck eleven. Like clockwork precision, Persephone waltzed in, her movements sultry but sulky as always. She threw some new music books at Kit and he caught them awkwardly, balancing them on his lap.

“These ones - I don’t care which one you play first today,” she said, sitting down on the long fainting couch across from him, her black hair spilling over the white satin fabric as she rested her head. Kit tried not to stare at her deep decolletage, which was prominently framed by the tight red dress she was wearing. She noticed as he turned away and her gaze was hungry as she looked at him.

Kit looked down as he chose a music book and blindly opened it to a first page he saw. He started playing, a crooning jazz number singing out underneath his fingers. He didn’t know if it was because he was in Faerie or the spell he could feel he was under but he was a much better musician here than in the mundane world. The tight, lost look on Persephone’s face began to relax as the melody echoed in the conservatory.

As he finished the first song and began another, his movements almost automatic, Kit allowed himself to think again, of escape - of returning to the land of the living - to his family, to the Shadowhunter institutions he was slowly becoming accustomed to again, to… Ty. To what might be between them, although he had almost strangled that hope, locked it away tight and deep inside his heart. What they had resurrected - if that word could be used - given previous circumstances was almost a miracle, Kit thought, hard fought for and one that he hadn’t been about to throw away on foolish too-soon declarations of love. Even so, when he had seen that faerie arrow aimed straight at Ty’s heart, he hadn’t hesitated. He might not be ever able to tell Ty how he felt but at least he had been able to show it in his actions, he mused.

And he wasn’t about to give up on leaving this hellhole, although each unrelenting day in this dull, dark and depressing place of dust and hollow-eyed workers pulled at that hope. But he clung to his memories - to the now-dimly lit memories of the outside world. Of his love for a black-haired, grey-eyed boy with his sharp intellect and fierce love of his family, who saw the world in a different light than most, and was - had been willing - and maybe, might be willing again to share it with Kit.

The last note rang out as he finished the song and he drew his hands back, muscles aching. He had been playing for nearly an hour. In the sudden silence, Persephone let out a ragged sigh.

“Who is the love that you play for, boy?” she said, her voice ancient and rough. She rose from the couch and crossed the floor, her dress swishing across the smooth marble. “I have heard many love songs in my years… but yours is one that I haven’t heard in an eon. Tell me their name.” Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But Kit remained silent. He knew instinctively if he said Ty’s name, he would lose it. He shook his head, his lips pressed together.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, and she reached out, as if to stroke his brow. Kit evaded her and stood up. He had been coming to play for her for several times now, and he had started to learn her ways. He needed a distraction. “I saw that crack in the wall- is that new, Persephone?” Kit lowered his voice as he gestured across the room. “I know you’re a captive as much as I am. Let me help you- we can escape together and then I will tell you.”

Persephone’s laugh was as dry as a winter’s wind as she sized him up. “Oh, that’s adorable, my sweet-” she said. “But I made my choice long ago and it’s--” her eyes suddenly moved past him. “It’s the love I deserve,” her voice suddenly was filled with honey and springtime.

Kit knew that Hades had arrived, and he tried to quell the fear rising in him as he turned around.

The man - fae - god or whatever he was - was standing in the doorway, casually watching them.

“Leave him,” he said in his deep voice. “I desire your company.”

Persephone swept past Kit without another word and draped herself across Hades. “Of course my darling- I am here. What shall we do?”

Hades took a moment to whisper into her ear and Persephone looked uncomfortable but let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Of course.”

Hades smiled, with a devilish twist and he pulled her away, starting down the hall.

But then he stopped and looked back at Kit. “Your shift here has ended - get back on the assembly line.”

Kit looked down at his rough worker’s uniform, smeared with rust and dust and he forced himself to nod evenly - he knew from past experience that it was unwise to argue with Hades.

Hades’ firelit eyes swept over him. “And once that is over - come see me in my office.”

And at that, Kit knew that he was in trouble. Hades had summoned him twice since his arrival to his office, after the initial contract signing. Each time afterwards Kit had found himself weak and gasping on the floor outside, his mind blank and unsure of what had passed behind the walls of the office. Nothing good, he thought grimly - and that was likely the cause of his increasingly fuzzy memory recall.

He needed to escape and soon. He nodded again and Hades left with Persephone. Kit started to make his way to the factory floor. On his way out of the conservatory, he bumped into a small, bird-framed girl with a luminous beauty and whose too-large eyes must have been lively once but were now faded and glazed over with the thousand yard stare that all Hades’ workers had. That he might soon have. “What’s your name?” Kit asked the girl, trying not to sound desperate.

She looked up at him. “I- Eu- I…” she looked puzzled and sad. “I don’t know.” she said.

Kit felt a stab of despair.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be added / removed!)

@jesse-is-spiraling @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @thechangeling

#kitty fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #my fanfic

[khaleesiofalicante]

bestie do you really think it's funny to make me cry?

OK WHERE DO I START AUJHUJHDSDUJHFV

deep bre-INCOHERENT SCREAMING

That's it. that's all I have to say.

THEY PASSED THE CHILD PROTECTION BILL I'M GONNA BE CRYING IN A CORNER IF ANYONE NEEDS ME

All those shadowhunters who ran back to Idris I hope you starve to death there. have fun!

Anjali is so awesome OH MY GOD I LOVE HER ALREADY

Rafael is THAT kid I see...it suits him so well.

It had been two very long years stuck in this small office room. But every time Alec saw the way David giggled when Lexi called her father Jalapeno poppers or some other equally ridiculous name, Alec knew it was worth all the trouble.

THIS OMG I'M NOT OK

Alec wondered if that’s why so many leaders before him had been awful. It was easy to be a bad leader. But it took effort to be a good one.

This is so true...I'm so proud of him...

Dani...bestie THAT IMMORTALITY CRISIS WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME. I know it's gonna happen but I was having a very good day. why do you hurt me in such ways... (I'm pretty sure my family thinks I'm mentally unstable after the way I screamed reading)

“Anjali,” Diego sighed. “What have I told you about doors?”

“Knock them down?”

“I said knock on them!” Diego corrected, shaking his head. “Not knock them down!”

I'm in love.

HUHYUHKSDYKFVYUFVYU ALEC'S CONSUL VOICE I'M SCREAMING

SIMON BESTEST!! HIM SORTING THE STUDENTS INTO THESE GROUPS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! AND ANJALI BESTIE GOOD LUCK AT BEATING THE SEELIES!! (good luck with stealing the weapons)

well, Rafael do you perhaps have a little crush? (Grammarly ik I'm writing in lowercase stfu)

ok ok I know this is pretty sad but every time someone gives Magnus or Alec the "you haven't talked to him yet?" look I start laughing-

ALEC'S SO CLUELESS ABOUT MAX AND DAVID I CANT-

“So, you are just going to leave me here and go to York then?” Max demanded now; all puppy dog eyes. “Like my mom left me at the academy?”

Yeah. He took the news a little too well.

MAX PLAYING THE ADOPTED CARD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

“Is it because you don’t like me?” Max pouted again. “Like my mom…Who left me all alone.”

“You can’t play the adopted card with me, you lil shit,” Rafael laughed. “I’m adopted too.”

I'M SO IN LOVE LEAVE ME ALONE

AWW MAX SEEING THE INSTITUTE AND IMMEDIATELY GOING "David would love this" ISTG THIS KID I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

“Weren’t you listening to a podcast on Mayan Civilization during breakfast?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Bapak said it’s historically accurate!” Rafe argued.

“Bapak is not that old!” Alec countered.

“Maybe he is,” Max said, analyzing the paintings on the walls. “Maybe you don’t know it.”

“Excuse me, I know how old my husband is,” Alec said indignantly.

“Then where are the receipts dad?” Max asked. “Show us the receipts!”

Where are the receipts, Alec? EXACTLY!

THANK GOD SOMEONE ELSE HAS CAUGHT ON TO MAX'S VERY OBVIOUS CRUSH

“I think he likes David,” Rafe whispered.

“Of course he does,” Alec whispered back. Why were they whispering? “David is a sweet boy.”

“No. I think he ‘likes him’ likes him,” Rafael giggled.

Alec looked at his son sharply. “But-He is..Da..They are children!”

“You’ve never heard a childhood crush?” Rafe grinned.

“No, I was too busy…studying,” Alec sniffed.

“That’s not what I heard,” Rafael bit his lip. “I heard you had a thing for boys in motorcycle jackets.”

“Okay that’s it! You are not allowed to hang out at Hotel Dumort anymore,” Alec said.

Really Alec? Studying? REALLY???

MAX AND RAFE RACING TO THE TRAINING ROOM!!!

the reference to the infernal devices...I'M GONNA KILL THE ALREADY DEAD STARKWEATHERS! I'M ABOUT TO DO SOME NECROMANCY SHIT TO BRING THOSE FUCKERS BACK JUST TO KILL THEM SLOWLY

Hugs max it's gonna be ok buddy.

In that moment, Alec remembered all the talks.

He remembered how his mother had lectured Izzy about not going out alone late at night, but she hadn’t said anything to Jace or Alec.

He remembered the way Jem spoken quietly to Mina in soft Mandarin about how people might call her names, but he hadn’t said anything to Kit.

He remembered the way Julian had told Ty to be careful about kissing his boyfriend in public, but he hadn’t said anything to Dru.

I hate this so damn much. I hate it. It sucks how there will always be people who will be targeted for being born the way they are. Whether it be skin color, sexuality, body type, or anything, people will always fucking talk and make the world unsafe for certain people just because they aren't generic male cishets. If you're a girl you're in danger. If you're a POC you're in danger, If you're neurodivergent you're in danger. If you're a member of the LGBTQ community you're in danger. If you're disabled you're in danger. If you're part of any minority you're in danger. If you dare to be different you're in danger. Fuck people. I'm a queer POC female and it's scary. I don't want to be always checking my surroundings when I'm out. I shouldn't have to feel this scared walking out of my own house but I do and it sucks. Ok, I feel like I'm derailing from the main point here.

Sorry for that just got really heated for a second there.

NO NOT THE NIGHTMARE. BABY NO

DAVID MY CHILD!! OMG, HE'S GONNA TAKE UP ARCHERY SOMEONE HOLD ME WHILE I CRY!

“This is who you are,” David said, his voice oddly soft now. Softer than usual. “And you’re beautiful.”

Alec blinked at that.

“Blue,” David said quickly. “I meant you’re blue. Uh, yes.”

BESTIE I SAW WHAT YOU SAID THERE. WE ALL DID

Also, alec sitting outside max's room...IM GONNA-

“David is in there,” Alec whispered. “I just wanted to…check…if everything was okay.”

“Alexander, are you spying on our child?” Magnus demanded. “Without me???”

“What? No! I-”

“Move over!” Magnus sank down next to him. “What are they saying? Are they kissing?”

“WHAT? They are not kissing!” Alec said in alarm. “Wait. Are they???”

He couldn’t hear anything now. Alec panicked.

“I haven’t talk to the kids about kissing yet,” Magnus pointed out. “We can’t talk to Max without talking to Rafael first.”

“Wait. Is Rafael kissing people???”

“Rafael is not kissing people,” Rafael replied as he walked past them to the kitchen. “Also, you guys are shit at whispering.”

Alec rolled his eyes at him and turned to Magnus. “It’s stressful enough that we need to talk about racism in the shadow world. Now we need to talk about kissing??”

“And other stuff,” Magnus chuckled.

Alec groaned into Magnus’ shoulder. “By the angel. Fine. We’ll just tell them there is no kissing. Until they are 30.”

“Hypocrite,” Rafael coughed into his hand as he walked back to the table with a bag of chips.

THIS WHOLE SCENE OH MY GOD.

And srsly alec? 30? really? whips out the extract "kissed" from cassie's website According to my files here-

“And David?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The bedroom door stays open from now on.”

David blinked, his cheeks pink. “I…What?”

“Door stays open,” Alec said, lowering his voice, just a register. “Is that understood?”

AYY ALEC DAD MODE YUCDUHDFHFUHJIUHC THIS IS SO AMAZING IM GONNA SCREAM

Alec advising David with the bow is so close to my heart...IDK WHY IT JUST IS

That conversation...PEOPLE FUCKING SUCK I HOPE HUMANS GO EXTINCT BECAUSE I SURE AM READY TO DIE SO LET'S TAKE THE EARTH DOWN-

“Why don’t shadowhunters have acne?”

"What?" Alec blinked.

“Their skin is like so freaking perfect and smooth and they can just freaking go through puberty without a one freaking pimple and don’t even get me started on the freaking dimples and then-”

Magnus started laughing. Alec felt a little confused.

EXACTLY MY THOUGHTS !!!!! THAT DAMN ANGEL BLOOD

That part about how we normalize these little things which are actually hurtful...I didn't realize that. I guess we really do, huh? This just made me want to be more careful with others and if I feel others do this with me, to stop them and correct them.

I loved this chapter so much. You're such a great writer.

I wanted to share something of my own now!! I FINALLY GOT MY COPY FOR RWARB!!!! I told my parents it was a thriller about how the first son and the prince forge a friendship and discover secrets about the government and the monarchy-

The place I bought it from sent me a very cute bookmark. It's a pride bookmark and it's just my first ever pride merch and I'm close to tears. Let's just say my family isn't the most accepting so this bookmark's really precious to me

Sorry, the quality isn't the best. I was in a hurry. It's almost 4 am now I'm gonna try and sleep (I'm gonna reorganize my bookshelf). See you on Tuesday!!

Thank you so much. I love reading your comments. They are so honest and full of life. You are going to LOVE rwrb. It's such a good book and it's so romantic and raw and perfect. Lmao about your parents. What they don't know can't hurt them ;) And I loooooooooove your bookmark. Be gay. Do crime.

PS -

"It sucks how there will always be people who will be targeted for being born the way they are. Whether it be skin color, sexuality, body type, or anything, people will always fucking talk and make the world unsafe for certain people just because they aren't generic male cishets. If you're a girl you're in danger. If you're a POC you're in danger, If you're neurodivergent you're in danger. If you're a member of the LGBTQ community you're in danger. If you're disabled you're in danger. If you're part of any minority you're in danger. If you dare to be different you're in danger. Fuck people. I'm a queer POC female and it's scary. I don't want to be always checking my surroundings when I'm out. I shouldn't have to feel this scared walking out of my own house but I do and it sucks. Ok, I feel like I'm derailing from the main point here."

THIS IS THE MAIN POINT. YOU GOT IT. SO CONGRATS <3

#THANK YOU ;) #lbaf

[echo-bleu]

carve our names with fire

Clary gave Alec a wedding gift before losing her memories and her runes. Alec does with it what he does best: change the world to right an injustice (and become a BAMF immortal warlock along the way).

Alec & Clary Brotp with a side of Immortal Husbands, Angst and Fluff and Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Betaed by Bsgoddess (SorryTheUsernamesTaken). Takes off after Alec and Magnus announced their wedding, but the show happened over 3-ish years and the wedding is about a week after they come back from Edom, not the next day (because Timeline). The last part was loosely inspired by prompts on the Malec Discord Server, though it grew more world-building than I expected.

Read on AO3.

“You two will make amazing husbands.”

Alec looks up from his paperwork, realizing that he’s been unconsciously twirling his ring while reading. He didn’t hear Clary come into his office, but she’s leaning against the door frame, a small smile on her face.

They haven’t had time to talk properly since the announcement of Alec and Magnus’ wedding, with Jonathan wreaking havoc all over the world. But Jonathan is dead now, thanks to Clary.

“Thank you,” he grins at her sincerely. “I know it’s a little rushed, but with everything that’s happened, we decided we didn’t want to wait for the next catastrophe. At this pace, we’ll never find time to plan a proper wedding.”

“That’s fair,” Clary snorts. “We never seem to get a break.”

They’re still reeling from the deaths of several hundred Shadowhunters, just days ago. Alec has done his best to go to as many Rites of Mourning as he could, especially for people he knew, but even he couldn’t make it to every one of them. After being surrounded by so much grief, he’s more than ready for a slice of happiness. Magnus is in a frenzy preparing everything for the wedding tomorrow, and Alec can’t wait.

“I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” Clary continues, walking into the office fully. She closes the door behind her, and Alec frowns. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Of course,” Alec gestures for her to sit on the couch, while he stands up and comes around his desk. He sits down beside her. “What is it?”

Clary looks down at her lap, biting her lip, and Alec feels dread pooling his stomach. She’s so uncharacteristically quiet that it can only mean bad news.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet,” she starts. “I don’t want to ask you to keep it a secret, but I can’t carry it on my own anymore.”

Alec places a hesitant hand on her arm. They rarely touch, but it seems appropriate. “Clary, what’s wrong?”

“I saw my mom the other day,” Clary breathes out.

Alec stares in shock. He lets go of Clary’s arm and glances down at his hand, the same hand that once ripped Jocelyn Fairchild’s heart out of her chest. Even now, almost two years later, he doesn’t feel clean of that. He can still feel the blood, see her face in his nightmares, Clary’s face accusing him. He has plenty of newer traumas to dream about, and it’s started to fade, but it’s not gone.

“What?” he croaks out. Is Clary having the same nightmares? Is she seeing things? It doesn’t match the way she said it, with that intense conviction in her eyes.

Clary’s eyes widen like she just realized how that sounded. “Not like… She was a...ghost, maybe? I don’t know. She felt real. She said she was sent by the Angels to give me a message.”

“A message,” Alec repeats slowly.

“I know how it sounds, but I think that’s the truth,” Clary says. “Because what she told me would happen...it’s started.”

“Clary, I don’t understand.”

She closes her eyes, her face screwed up in anguish. “She said that my rune ability was against the wish of the Angels and that if I kept using it, they’d take it away. They’d take everything away. Everything that makes me a Shadowhunter.”

Alec blinks for a moment, trying to make sense of it. “When was that?” he asks.

“The day after we got back from Edom.”

“You used a rune to kill Jonathan,” Alec breathes.

Clary looks up at his face then and nods minutely. She rolls up her sleeve, showing off unmarred skin where Alec saw a Silent Brother draw the angelic rune just a year ago. “It’s already started,” she murmurs. “They’re fading. One by one.”

“So you’re being...deruned? No,” Alec realizes. It’s different. Deruning is a Nephilim punishment, a human one. It strips them of their runes, but not of their identity, of their blood. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“I think…” Clary hesitates, tears falling down her cheeks. “I think when it’s over, I’m going to be mundane. Fully. Without the Sight, and any memories of the Shadow World.”

“Fuck, Clary,” Alec mutters. “There must be something we can do—”

“I don’t think we can go against the Angels’ wish, Alec.”

Alec closes his eyes, his mind desperately running through possibilities and scenarios. He doesn’t see a solution. She’s right, the Angels’ wish is untouchable, they all know that. There’s no army to fight, no law to circumvent, no obstacle to overcome.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and feels the knot in his throat grow until it’s nearly choking him. He’s not ready to lose another friend, not now. And Jace… Fuck. Jace will be devastated. Izzy, too. None of them can take another disaster.

He takes in Clary’s red and puffy eyes, the way she’s looking at him like a lifeline. She’s become a friend, over the years. They didn’t start that way, but they’ve grown close. She’s the person closest to Alec outside of his family and Magnus. He blinks back tears.

“You’ll still be alive,” he murmurs. “But—”

“I’ll forget you. All of this,” she gestures around them. “Everything. I’m scared, Alec.”

Alec holds out his hand, and she grips it tightly in hers. He covers them with his other hand. “How long?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I only have two runes left, so not long. Tomorrow, maybe the day after.”

Alec closes his eyes. She might not even make it to the wedding. “Fuck,” he repeats.

“I don’t want to forget,” Clary murmurs, sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alec says softly. Neither of them believes it.

At least she’ll be okay, most likely. If she forgets everything, loses her angel blood, she’ll be just another mundane. She’ll be safe. Alec tries hard to hang onto that and not on the pain to come.

Because if he even lets himself imagine it, he’ll crumble.

“Why tell me first?” he asks.

Clary hesitates, biting her lip. Her sobs have receded, though tears are still running down her cheeks. She sniffles. “You’re in charge of the Institute, so you need to know. For, you know, patrols and stuff. I didn’t want you to be caught by surprise.”

Alec swallows, touched by her foresight. It’s hard to remember sometimes that she’s the same girl who once trampled on every rule without care. She still doesn’t follow orders blindly, but she’s come to care about the Institute and its Shadowhunters like they’re her family.

And in a few days, none of that growth will matter anymore. She’ll be gone. Alec wants to retch at the injustice of it all. She’s come so far, and this punishment is truly unfair.

But then, why should the Angels be fairer than the Nephilim? Alec once sat in this same office waiting for his sister to be convicted of treason and deruned. He watched his mother be stripped of her runes and her identity. Clary herself was sentenced to death for bringing Jace back to life.

They both know all too well that life isn’t fair.

“There’s another reason,” Clary says after a moment of silence. “I wanted to give you something. It’s a wedding gift, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold on until then, so I wanted to give it to you now.”

She pulls back her hands and takes a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. Alec carefully unfolds it, expecting some kind of drawing, but what jumps out at him is a rune, carefully inked onto the thick paper. One he doesn’t recognize.

“I can still create runes, even if I don’t dare activate them,” Clary explains. “It will work, I know it.”

“What is it?” Alec asks. It has similar elements to the Alliance rune, Clary’s most beautiful invention to date, but it’s also different, rounder, and more complex.

“I didn’t give it a name,” Clary says. “You can name it if you want. Or keep it to yourself and never use it. It’s your choice.”

“You’re rambling,” Alec says, almost amused despite the gravity of the moment.

“Sorry. It works kind of like the Alliance rune, but it requires a strong emotional bond. There are elements of the Wedding rune and the Parabatai rune in it.”

Alec tilts his head, and he can recognize it now, the familiar runes almost intertwined with each other.

“Shared between two people,” Clary says slowly, “it should bind souls and bodies together. You’d share blood, powers, emotions. And it’s permanent.”

Alec’s eyes widen as he takes in the implications of that. “Sharing powers…”

“Yes. If you do it with Magnus, you should be able to share his eternal youth.”

“Clary, this is—” Alec breathes, unable to formulate his overwhelming gratitude. “It’s an incredible gift.”

Clary swallows. “I wanted you to have it before—” she gestures vaguely. “I didn’t talk about it earlier because I wasn’t sure I could make a rune that powerful, but I know this one will work.”

Alec closes his eyes briefly to clear them of tears and pulls her into a hug. She melts into his chest, sobbing. “I want you to know that I’m incredibly grateful for everything you did for us,” he says over her shoulder. “We owe you so much.”

“Even if I didn’t obey the rules?” she hiccups. “I caused you a lot of trouble.”

“But you saved us over and over too,” Alec says. “You brought Jace back to life. You’re the reason we got Magnus back. You’ve been through so much in the past few years, but you’re still here coming up with the most incredible gift for my wedding, even when you’re running out of time…”

“I can’t tell Jace and Izzy,” Clary sobs into his shoulder. “Izzy just asked me to be her parabatai. And Jace… I can’t say goodbye. It’s too hard.”

Alec hugs her tighter. “It’s okay. I’ll tell them for you if you want. Anything you need.”

“I love them. I love you. I love you all so much. To think that I won’t remember anything…”

Alec runs a hand through her hair, gently. “We’ll make sure that you’re alright. And… I’ll keep looking. Maybe there’s something we can do to make the Angels let you come back. If not, maybe we can figure out how to bring you back ourselves. I won’t give up.”

“Thank you,” Clary murmurs. “Take care of Jace for me. He’ll need you.”

“I will. I promise.”

They hold each other until Clary’s sobs subside, and she’s able to compose herself. Alec keeps a tight grip on his own emotions, even though they threaten to spill over. He’s long learned to compartmentalize, and he can’t afford to break down in the middle of a workday. But before he goes back home to Magnus that night, he takes out the folded sheet of paper again and studies it until his sight goes blurry and he has tears running down his cheeks. He goes to the roof with his bow, working his anger into the arrows he sends out in the sky, and he runs to Magnus’ loft without a speed run, his lungs burning.

When Magnus asks him what’s wrong, he can only shake his head and hug him tight.

 *

 He’s dancing with Magnus when Clary leaves. He’s tried to keep an eye on her most of the night, once the ceremony was done, but he misses her running out and only realizes she’s gone when Jace starts to look for her.

The party is coming to an end. Alec excuses himself to Magnus for a while and he tracks Clary down, two blocks away, where he finds her looking around her in confusion.

“Who are you?” she asks when he calls her name. “Don’t come any closer!”

Alec sighs, the knot in his throat threatening to explode, and he raises his hands in a gesture of peace. “I don’t mean any harm,” he says. “You just seemed lost.”

“I’m—” She looks around again, frantically. “I don’t know where I am.”

“I’ll call you a cab, okay?” Alec offers. He falters, realizing that Clary doesn’t have a home to go to anymore. Jocelyn’s dead, and Clary will have to suffer the loss of her mother all over again. “Is there anyone you can call? A friend?”

“Yeah,” Clary says. She pats her dress. “I’ve...I think I lost my phone.”

“I’ll lend you mine,” Alec says. “I’m Alec, by the way.”

“Clary.”

Alec forces the pain away and attempts a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

 *

 “I told you you’d make amazing husbands.”

Alec looks up from his paperwork in surprise, and he’s overtaken by a strong sense of deja-vu. It isn’t the same office or even the same city, but the way Clary is leaning against the door frame reminds him exactly of the day before she left. She seems aware of the parallel, grinning at him conspiratorially.

“You did,” he smiles. “Welcome back, Clary.”

She looks different, and yet the same. Her skin is free of runes, and she has a new haircut that makes her look older, but there’s the same light in her eyes. It’s been a year. A year of Jace moping around the Institute, his pain a constant tug on the parabatai bond. A year of missing her, more than Alec never thought he would.

“Thank you.”

Jace called Alec just hours after Clary recognized him at her show, three weeks ago, but Alec hasn’t been able to join them in New York yet. She regained her memories quickly, in only a few days, once it started. Jace and Izzy have been keeping him updated.

“So that’s where it went,” Clary says, staring at the large abstract painting on the wall. “I thought it was you and Magnus, but I wasn’t sure. It’s hard to reconcile those memories together.”

Alec looks up at it, at the signature that looks suspiciously like a rune in the shape of a C and F in the bottom right corner. “It was us,” he confirms. They’ve been to every single one of her school’s shows, buying multiple paintings while having to pretend they didn’t know her. “We have more of them at home. Magnus felt it was a way to keep you with us. He’s missed you a lot.”

“I know,” Clary says. “We had lunch a couple of days ago. He didn’t tell you?”

Alec laughs. “He did. He recounted every minute of it. He was excited.”

Clary tilts her head playfully. “Is he the only one who missed me?”

“I’m pretty sure Jace thought of you once or twice. Izzy, too,” Alec smirks. “Of course we all missed you. Come here,” he stands up and opens his arms.

She bounces up to him and hugs him tight around the middle, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. Alec laughs and leans into the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.

“I’d say I’ve missed you too, but—” Clary shrugs, pulling away to look up at him. “I felt like something was missing, the whole time. And ugh, I didn’t remember you were so tall.”

Alec raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t remember me at all,” he deadpans. “More seriously, I meant to come to see you, but things have been hectic over here.”

“I heard you made Inquisitor. That’s amazing, Alec!”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, very recent,” Alec blushes. He still hasn’t learned to take a compliment, but his promotion is something he can take pride in. It’s an incredible testimony of how far the Clave has come in just a couple of years. Not so long ago, a Shadowhunter who chose to marry a Downworlder would have been cast out or at least kept carefully out of any politically significant position. And now he’s here, barely turned twenty-five, in the second highest Clave office. “Magnus is the High Warlock of Alicante now,” he adds. Because of that, the Clave asking his husband to help Downworlders move back into Idris after centuries of fleeing the Shadowhunters’ increasing restrictions, is something Alec will never not be proud of.

“You haven’t changed,” Clary observes, smiling. “I was worried you’d turned into a high and mighty prick, now that you’re such a big name.”

Alec rolls his eyes and snorts. “I’m not Jace,” he reminds her. “Come on, let’s sit down. Do you have some time? I can take my lunch break, there’s a restaurant around the corner.”

“Sure,” Clary nods. “I have an appointment with the Silent Brothers to determine if my body’s ready to take runes again, but I came early to see you.”

“Great. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

 *

 “Did you use it? The rune?” Clary leans in over her dessert in curiosity. They’ve been catching up for the past hour in a booth at the back of the restaurant, and it almost feels like they saw each other yesterday, for how comfortable and easy it is to get back into their banter. Alec has missed this.

He leans back in his seat, his stomach full. “Yeah,” he says, placing a hand over his heart where the rune is located. “We exchanged them two months ago.”

“Does it work?” Clary asks with a spark in her eyes.

Alec turns his hand palm up over the table and focuses. It doesn’t come easily to him, not yet. He’s been training with Magnus, but magic is much harder than it looks, so they’ve been focusing on controlling his random outbursts whenever he’s stressed more than developing his active magic.

Blue strands of light encircle his hand briefly, leaving in their wake a yellow rose. He hands it to Clary, who gives him a wide smile and turns it in her hands to observe it. “Wow!” she exclaims. “Yer a wizard, Alec.”

Alec bites on his finger to contain his laughter. He’s learned far too many mundane cultural references through osmosis with Simon and weekly movie nights at the loft, while Clary was gone.

“We had my blood and magic analyzed by the researchers at the Spiral Labyrinth, and they say I’m immortal too,” he says. “Or more exactly, tied to Magnus’ immortality. But since he’s tied to my life force too, it makes us functionally invincible. Someone would have to kill us both at the same time for it to stick.”

“That’s amazing,” Clary breathes. “More than I even thought of when I made the rune.”

“We have a lot to thank you for,” Alec reaches out to pat her hand. “More than you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“This rune allowed us to make huge strides in magical theory, and specifically angelic magic. It’s part of the reason why I’ve been so busy because I’m also working with our researchers on several projects.” Alec pauses, realizing he’s getting ahead of himself and Clary can’t follow. “Okay, so when you gave me the rune, I told Magnus about it right after our wedding. He was blown away that you would give us such a gift, by the way. I’m sure he’ll want to thank you himself.”

Clary smiles. “He’ll have plenty of time for that, now that I’m back for good,” she says.

Alec nods. “Since you said it was permanent, we took our time to make the decision. Immortality is not something to be taken lightly. For me, it wasn’t even really a question, but Magnus wanted me to be sure that it was what I wanted.”

“That makes sense,” Clary nods.

“We also wanted to make sure that the rune would work the way you said it did, that it wouldn’t have any…unforeseen side effects.”

Clary frowns. “I never had a problem with my runes.”

“Honestly, Clary, you used them mostly in emergencies, with no regard for safety. Maybe it was warranted then, but this time we weren’t willing to gamble both of your lives on it. Especially when it came to using a rune on a warlock.”

“Of course,” Clary says sheepishly. “Ugh, I was rather impulsive, wasn’t I?”

“You could say that,” Alec grumbles, remembering all the times her hasty decisions landed him in hot water with his parents or the Clave. “Anyway, we researched the hell out of it. Every text we could find on rune creations, on the wedding rune and its variations, we even looked into warlock archives that hadn’t been opened for centuries. And that’s how I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“How you created runes. And why the Angels hated it.”

 *

 “This is what we’re working on,” Alec says, letting Clary into the lab. “It’s all confidential, but since you’re the one who started it all, I figured you deserve to know. And I’m the one who decides who is read in on it anyway.”

Clary looks around in wonder. The room has some of the equipment she’d expect in a lab and some she doesn’t recognize, but what attracts her gaze is the large corkboard in the middle, covered with sheets of paper.

On each of them is a rune. A rune she’s never seen before.

“They’re all new runes?” she asks.

“Yes,” Alec answers, leaning his back against the wall. “What clued me in was how you used elements of several existing runes to create a new one. I copied down every rune from the Gray Book and all of your runes and I started looking for patterns. We’ve always known that some basic elemental runes existed, but not that they could be combined. It took me a few months, but I came up with this.” He points at a rune at the top left of the board, which Clary can see is based on the Deflect rune, with two additional strikes going through it.

“Of course you would,” she mutters. “That’s some kind of armor rune, isn’t it?”

Alec smiles. “As it turns out, everyone can create runes, at least in theory. It’s very hard and requires a strong theoretical background unless you’re named Clary Fairchild and you have additional angel blood. Or maybe just an amazing instinct, I don’t know. Yes, this one imitates armored plates around your body. It’s more effective at stopping blows than the regular Deflect rune, but it doesn’t stop people from tracking you.”

“That’s amazing,” Clary says.

“As soon as I saw it work, I told Magnus and we worked on it together. It’s the biggest discovery about angelic magic that we’ve made in centuries.”

“Why did no one find it before?”

Alec pushes away from the wall to face her fully. “Soon after I used this rune for the first time, I started experiencing the same thing you did: push back from the Angels. Even drawing normal runes became harder. We got scared that I might be deruned like you were, so Magnus and I decided to go ahead with your rune, bind ourselves together. If I had magic, the Angels couldn’t take away my Sight or my memories.”

“That sounds like a plan me or Jace would have come up with, not you,” Clary quips.

“Yeah, well, things were evolving quickly. I could barely hold a stele at that point,” Alec says, frowning.

Clary blinks. “Wow, the Angels really were angry.”

“The bond fixed it. I’m out of reach now, they can’t do anything to me. And now that I knew what I was looking for, I found accounts of other people to whom it happened, who lost their Nephilim blood because of this. You have to read between the lines because it became taboo to even talk about it, but it looks like the Angels don’t want us to have this ability. Jonathan Shadowhunter probably had it, he had more pure Angel blood than you and he’s the one who created all the original runes, but since then, no Shadowhunter has been able to create new runes. Until you.”

“But I got punished for it,” Clary says, wringing her hands. Her memories of the last few days before she was stripped of her runes don’t feel fresh like the events happened yesterday, but they also don’t feel like they’re a year old. She can still see her mother’s ghost, or whatever it was, telling her what would happen if she kept using new runes.

It’s been a year, but without her memories, she hasn’t had a chance to process all the trauma, all the emotions.

“Yeah,” Alec sighs. “You certainly didn’t deserve it, but you were.”

Clary shakes her head, trying to get rid of the darker thoughts. “Obviously you didn’t stop there,” she says, gesturing at the board. “So what did you do?”

“Well, since my warlock blood protects me, I started thinking about who else might be protected. I reached out to Helen Blackthorn, you remember her?”

“Oh, she’s half-Seelie, isn’t she?”

“Yes. She and her brother. They were both willing to try working with us, especially since Magnus and I were fairly sure we could stop the process if we were wrong and the Angels were able to harm them. As it turns out, they did fine. So I found more Shadowhunters with Downworlder blood. At this point, we have eight people creating new runes, including me.”

“That’s incredible,” Clary says. She looks closer at the runes on the board. She can instinctively tell their purpose, which is proof that her ability hasn’t gone away. Alec lets her observe them for a while in silence, and she thinks she can discern a pattern in there like the runes have a signature. “That’s yours,” she points at a rune in the middle of the board, once she’s fairly sure she’s understanding her instincts right. “And this one.”

“You’re right,” Alec says, sounding impressed.

“You have a...tell,” Clary smirks, looking at him over her shoulder. “They feel distinctively you. I can probably find Magnus’ too, but I’d need a place to start since I’ve never seen him draw a rune.”

“Here,” Alec points to one on the right side of the board. “Can you tell because of your rune ability, or because you’re an artist?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” Clary shrugs. “I’m not sure. I should have known this was Magnus’,” she laughs when she looks at the rune. The flourish and artistic strokes look exactly like something Magnus would go for.

“We definitely need you in our group,” Alec mutters, jotting down a note on a pad on the desk beside him.

“I don’t know,” Clary says, taking a step back away from the board. “I don’t want to tempt fate. I don’t think I could stand to lose my memories again.”

“No, of course,” Alec says. “But I don’t think it would happen.”

“Why?”

“Magnus’ theory is that if enough Shadowhunters start creating runes, the Angels will just have to accept it since they can’t cast us out. Since our wedding, there are more and more mixed Nephilim and Downworlder couples, so there will probably be a whole generation of people with mixed blood. They’ll be able to create runes.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Clary asks.

“I don’t think it was a coincidence that the Angels chose to give you your memories back now. The breakthroughs that we’ve made aren’t going away. I think it’s their way of telling us that they won’t fight us anymore.”

Clary blinks at him, trying to process that idea. She remembers asking Maryse, at the wedding, if the Angels could forgive. The picture of the Angels that Alec paints is cold and calculating, matching with what Clary saw of Raziel — and to some extent, even Ithuriel. What if she wasn’t forgiven, but instead simply reinstated in her rightful place? What if Alec managed the unthinkable, and made the Angels themselves change their minds?

“Is that possible? I mean — wow.”

“Why not?” Alec shrugs.

Clary has a sudden flashback of the Alec she first met, over four years ago, who was terrified of coming out and upsetting the order of things, who was killing himself trying to meet his parents’ expectations. The man standing in front of her now has grown so much, just like Clary has, that they’re barely recognizable. To hear him talking so casually about changing the world-changing immutable laws such as those of the Angels?

But then, they’ve changed so much already, haven’t they? They participated in the destruction of Edom. They defeated the Mother of Demons. They explored and even created whole new sections of magic. Alec and Magnus’ marriage and their careers changed the laws of the Clave and opened the way for so much more.

They’ve already changed the world. So why not a little more, indeed?

Clary jumps at Alec’s neck, making him grunt in surprise. “This is amazing,” she says. “You’re amazing. And I’m so glad I’m back.”

“Me too,” Alec laughs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Welcome home, Clary.”

#shadowhunters #alec lightwood #clary fray #malec #clary fairchild #mine #echo's fanfiction #malec discord server #hm discord

[visander]

Faking It | Ao3.

This is my ‘fake relationship’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

Simon had only been a shadowhunter for a few weeks when he asked Jace to sneak out and help him break into a police station to steal something for his friend. Jace agreed because it sounded fun, because sending Simon out on his own wasn't an option and because he'd secretly wanted to help him, just because he knew it would make Simon happy.

He hadn't quite expected to get slapped on that adventure, nor did he expect to be leaving the police station with his new boyfriend but Jace supposed that stranger things had happened before.

Jimon, no warnings.

When Jace ran into Simon at the club and realized that Simon had the sight, he’d initially assumed that Simon was just a mundane who knew of the shadowworld. Simon was clearly not a shadowhunter. The clothes he was wearing, the distinct lack of pronounced shadowhunter muscle, the fact that he wasn’t carrying any weapons, the way he spoke, even the way he carried himself - It all screamed to Jace that he was just a mundane, so when Simon inevitably proved Jace wrong, he’d been shocked enough that he hadn’t known how to process it.

How could someone like that be a shadowhunter? Someone so innocent, someone so unburdened? But adamas didn’t lie and when Simon picked up that sword, the answer was undeniable. Simon was a shadowhunter and in that moment, Jace became enthralled. He tried to hide it of course but he was fascinated by Simon. He hung onto every word he said, even if he tried to play it off like he didn’t.

He pretended to be annoyed by him because it came easier than the alternatives. He snapped at Simon because he thought it would cover up the fact that Jace found him so very interesting but in the end, only really Simon seemed to buy that act.

Isabelle and Alec noticed where Jace’s attention was at instantly but they at least had the decency to stay quiet about it. They didn’t quite understand why Jace had taken such an invested interest in this one mundane-shadowhunter to be and honestly, Jace didn’t either.

He wasn’t interested in anyone. He wasn’t curious about people the way he was curious about Simon. Even the mundane things Simon would rambled about, no matter how hard Jace pretended to find it all very annoying, it was interesting to him in a way that nothing mundane ever had been before.

Then, there was Clary who Jace somehow found even more annoying than Simon and this time, it wasn’t an act. The way Clary hung around Simon irritated him. The way they seemed to understand each other irritated him, even if he knew that wasn’t quite fair. He wished that he understood the things Simon said as easily as Clary did. He wished he could relate and talk about the stupid shows Simon liked but they’d grown up in completely different worlds. So, Jace pretended that he didn’t care about Simon at all and Simon seemed to buy it a little too much.

Jace overheard Simon telling Izzy that Jace hated him one day. She’d responded with amusement, telling him that Jace certainly didn’t hate him but it had been obvious that Simon didn’t believe her.

Jace had felt bad hearing that. He’d decided that he’d try to stop acting like everything Simon did bothered him and he’d stop acting so annoyed when he was actually interested in what Simon had to say but then, he’d walked out to them, Simon had opened his mouth and Jace had a sarcastic quip falling off his tongue before he could stop himself.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

.

Valentine’s resurgence just happened to coincide with Simon showing up, something that the Clave had found very suspicious but in the end, they’d run an investigation and decided that Simon really had nothing to do with Valentine. He was just a child born to an unknown shadowhunter father, one that his mother hadn’t even known wasn’t human.

Though Simon had done nothing wrong, the Clave had also decided that he had to stay in the Institute. He had no training. He had done no studying. Valentine was on the loose and there were more demons running amuck now than in the past few months combined. It was too dangerous for him to leave, though Simon didn’t take too kindly to this.

He insisted that he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to join their band of tattooed, sword wielding heroes and that he didn’t think he was cut out for it. Jace insisted that he was a shadowhunter through and through and that he just needed to train more. Simon didn’t believe he’d ever be able to do what he, Alec and Isabelle did and he also missed his family.

He’d been pissed he wasn’t allowed to go see them but Jace convinced him that it was too dangerous and that being a shadowhunter made him a target of Valentines. In the end, Simon’s family assumed he ran away and Simon sent them periodic letters to solidify this, insisting that he was okay and that he loved them but that he was just going through a typical teenaged crisis.

Jace jokingly told him to tell them he’d run off to join a gang and after a moment, Simon wrote that he met a boy who was in a biker gang and that he swore they were in love and they were going to stay together forever. Jace didn’t comment on his choice of gender but he’d filed it away for later. He was a little more interested in that fact than he’d have liked.

.

Eventually, Simon had been cooped up in the Institute for so long that he insisted he needed to leave and he practically begged Jace to just take him somewhere. Now, Jace didn’t particularly care about breaking the Clave’s orders. He broke them quite often, much to Alec’s aggravation but it was the fact that the Clave had a point that worried him.

It was a dangerous time to be a shadowhunter and Simon was barely even one. A couple weeks worth of training wasn’t going to make him able to protect himself if they encountered a stray flock of demons or were attacked by Valentine’s men while they were out but in the end, Simon wore him down.

Jace wasn’t even sure why he agreed. Maybe, it was the fact that he was bored or maybe it was the fact that going out somewhere alone with Simon seemed appealing. Maybe, it was that it would make Simon happy. Either way, Jace agreed and in the early hours of the morning, when Jace had officially been released from his duties and was supposed to be in bed, they snuck out together.

Simon rambled happily as they left, holding the sword Jace had given him very much unlike a shadowhunter (he wasn’t even holding the blade the right way to snap it up if a demon lunged at him and he needed to act. Jace considered correcting him but in the end, he decided against it. Jace was there to protect him after all, if something happened). He told Jace all about this coffee stand he knew and how he was sure Jace would love it.

Jace simply nodded and they headed off to said coffee place. No demons jumped out at them on the way and when they got there, they both ordered coffee and took a seat at a small table. Jace inclined his head, raised an eyebrow and listened to Simon ramble about how vampires would use a french press (Jace was pretty sure that didn’t happen but he decided not to say this and burst Simon’s bubble).

Jace tried to listen. He nodded. He tried not to act annoyed enough to ruin Simon’s mood and in the end, he seemed to strike a good balance because he threw in an annoyed quip or a snide comment every once in a while but Simon still kept talking, undisturbed.

Maybe, Jace was getting better or maybe, Simon was just getting used to him. Either way, Jace sipped his coffee and he tried to ignore the fact that this felt so incredibly similar to a date, not that Jace had ever been on a real date before. If this was a date, it was his first and it was certainly his first with anyone he actually liked.

Jace didn’t share this out loud. He had no reason to think Simon thought of this as a date. Simon just wanted to get out of the Institute and Jace had simply been there, willing to break the rules for him. That didn’t mean Simon liked him or considered this illegal excursion anything but them getting coffee.

But later, when Izzy asked where they’d gone and Jace told her, she’d laughed and called it a date. Jace pretended to be offended by that but really, his heart had started beating fast the moment she said it. So, it might have been a date then, he thought. It wasn’t just him that saw it.

In the end, he didn’t have the balls to ask Simon what he thought of that but on their next date, this time at some mundane restaurant Simon liked, Jace went through it in his head and tried to list the reasons why this might not be a date. He couldn’t think of many.

.

For a while, Simon had honestly stayed out of trouble, snuck out with Jace every other day and trained like he was supposed to but then, he’d inevitably gotten them involved in a mess. Now, Jace wasn’t too clear on the details if he was being honest. All he knew was that Simon woke him up one morning and asked if Jace would help him steal something from a police station for Clary.

Jace hadn’t quite wanted to do anything for Clary and he most certainly didn’t care about whatever mundane story there was that lead to her needing something stolen from a police station but what he did know was that Simon said he’d do it himself, if Jace didn’t want to help and that sounded like a horrible idea.

First of all, letting Simon leave the Institute alone wasn’t an option and second of all, Jace didn’t think Simon would get a foot in the door before he’d be caught. He didn’t even know how to use his glamour rune. Third of all, Jace knew that it was an excuse to spend time with Simon, doing something that to him would seem exciting and ‘dangerous’, even though they were shadowhunters and they’d face no real consequences for breaking into a mundane police station.

Jace groaned, said yes and then promptly got up and got dressed to go break into a police station with Simon. That wasn’t quite a date but if Jace did want to count it, it was about their fifth or sixth one and Jace had to admit that it was by far the most exciting thus far.

.

Outside the police station, Jace pulled out his stele and demonstrated to Simon how to activate the glamour rune he’d just drawn on his arm. Now, Jace has assumed that Simon activated it and if he was being honest, that was probably a mistake on his part. It’s just, Jace drew it for him. He’d known that Simon would probably mess it up if he had to draw it, so he did the hard part himself and then, he left Simon with the easy part - swiping his stele across it to turn it on.

Jace didn’t watch Simon do this because he really hadn’t thought there was anyway Simon could mess it up. All he had to do was move his stele across it but apparently, Jace had overestimated him because when they walked into the police station, talking rather loudly about exactly why they were there, everyone inside had turned to look at Simon, who to them had just walked inside talking to himself.

Jace could have slapped him when Simon turned to look at him absolutely panicked (which Jace was sure looked amazing to all the people who only saw Simon looking off into space) but then, it had gotten worse. Someone from across the police station had exclaimed Simon’s name and it was then that Jace realized in the mundane world, Simon was a missing runaway - though he was technically an adult, he was still a missing run away who’d just walked into a police station talking to himself.

Jace threw his arms up in the universal sign for ‘what the fuck Simon’ before he turned without a word and marched back out of the police station. Jace heard Simon yell after him (which again, Jace was sure looked amazing to everyone who couldn’t see him) but Jace kept walking and outside, he let out an aggravated sigh, swiped his stele across his arm to deactivate his glamour rune before he turned again and marched back into the police station, this time entirely visible.

The relief on Simon’s face when Jace came back almost made dealing with all of this worth it. Almost.

“Simon!” Jace snapped, his voice echoing across the police station, making everyone who’d been previously staring at Simon in concern look over. Jace made his way up to him and grabbed Simon’s hand, tugging him gently as if to make him move towards the door. “You’re overreacting,” he snapped, staring at Simon’s wide eyed face. He really wasn’t the best at improv. “I only cheated on you once, you don’t have to go home,” he snapped, which is when Simon’s eyes widened a fraction more and he seemed to realize exactly what was happening.

Simon had told his family he’d run away to be with a boy in a biker gang. Jace was a boy. He was wearing a leather jacket and if posing as Simon’s boyfriend was something Jace was a little excited to do, well no one needed to know that.

Simon ripped his hand away from Jace’s as if he was infuriated and Jace couldn’t help the amusement that he was sure was shining on his face. This situation was just so ridiculous but Jace had to admit that it was fun to play around and cause a diversion when their lives weren’t on the line, as they often were. Jace was hardly emotionally invested in stealing for Simon’s friend, so he really didn’t care if this plan failed. There would be no dire consequences for failing, so Jace was more than okay with having some fun with it.

That is, until Simon brought his hand back and slapped Jace across the face, something that seemed to stir all of the police officers who’d been previously standing around doing nothing to jump into action. Two of them came instantly grabbing Jace as if he wasn’t the one who’d just been assaulted in front of them.

“Stop following me!” Simon snapped at him as he made his way across the room to a desk that it seemed Simon was more than familiar with. He ripped the drawer open and started looking through it as casually as if he owned it. “You’ll never see me in your crappy apartment again!” Simon yelled over his shoulder, which Jace really thought was a little bit of overkill.

He was already being held, he’d been slapped and Simon really didn’t need to make Jace look any worse than he already did but regardless, after a moment, Jace jumped into action, calling across the room to him. “Simon! I just need you to know that it only happened like two or three times- it only happened a couple of times!”

Simon looked up at him, snapping as he slipped something into his pocket. “Shut up!”

“Babe, come on!” Jace yelled, finding a bit too much enjoyment at calling Simon that. He’d never been one to call people ‘babe’ before but if it was Simon and if Simon would look at him with that adorable surprised expression every time, well Jace wouldn’t really mind incorporating it into his vocabulary

Finally, a police officer made their way over to Simon, asking why exactly Simon was going through someone’s desk and where he’d come from. Jace heard Simon say something about a key he needed for Clary and about how, no they shouldn’t call his parents, he was on his way to see them anyway. Jace took that as his cue to make his exit. Simon had gotten what he needed and though Jace could get out of it, he really didn’t feel like being locked up in a mundane jail cell.

Jace pulled his arms away from the people holding him and turned to make his way back outside, where he stood around and waited for Simon, who finally came out a few minutes later. “Slapping me, really?” Jace asked as they turned and started walking down the sidewalk, towards wherever Simon had agreed to meet Clary.

“I thought it would make it look authentic!” Simon said as he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, probably to text Clary herself. “You cheated on me, dude. I’d be pissed.”

“I’d never actually cheat on you,” Jace said instantly, the words rolling off his tongue before he could really think them through.

Instantly, Simon froze, his phone held limp in his hands as he looked up to Jace, frowning. “I didn’t think you’d ever date me either,” Simon said slowly, laughing as if it were a joke even though there was something about the way he said it that made him sound tentatively hopeful.

Jace glared, stopping next to him and crossing his arms over his chest. He was speaking before he could think about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, which was apparently something that Jace did a lot around Simon. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t assume,” Jace snapped, his words sounding far more confident and contained than Jace really felt.

Simon blinked a couple of times before blurting out, “You’d want to date me? Me?”

Instantly, Jace rolled his eyes and turned to keep walking. The answer was clearly yes and Jace didn’t understand why Simon couldn’t just tell him if he was interested or if Jace had just humiliated himself. “Never mind,” Jace said, only stilling again when Simon’s hand snapped out to grab his own.

“Wait, Jace.”

Jace finally looked to him, his jaw tight in his mouth.

“I'd be open to dating if you uh- if you wanted to.” When Jace failed to speak right away, Simon continued. “I just assumed you wouldn’t be interested. I mean you’re all-” Simon gestured to Jace vaguely, “-and you always get annoyed with me and I’m uh, well I’m me.” Simon blinked a few more times and when he spoke again, his voice was suddenly soft in a way that made Jace’s heart melt a little. “That would be nice if you were serious.”

Jace’s shoulders relaxed slowly. He took a moment to process what exactly Simon said and then, he rolled his eyes but it was a lighthearted, playful motion. At least, Jace hoped it appeared that way because really wasn’t good at this kind of serious conversation. “Of course, I was serious,” Jace insisted without looking at him. “We’ve been on like six dates. Why would I do that if I didn’t like you?”

Jace turned and started walking again, intent on getting wherever they were going to meet Clary so that Simon could promptly give her whatever he’d needed and they could get back to the Institute, before the police were out looking for Simon when he failed to go home.

“Wait, those were dates?” Simon asked as he darted after Jace, trying to keep up with his quick pace. “I thought you just liked trying new foods.”

Instantly, Jace scoffed. “Simon, I’ve never gone into a restaurant to eat with anyone in my entire life. The food was okay sure but I did it because I wanted to spend time with you.”

For a beat, Simon was silent and then, he was exclaiming, “Holy shit. I really do have a boyfriend in a gang.”

Jace paused to look back at him incorrigibly. “I’m not in a gang,” he snapped even as the word ‘boyfriend’ was ringing through Jace’s head. He’d had people call him that only a couple of times and it had always been something Jace associated with panic before he promptly cut them off and never talked to them again. This time, Jace heard the word a little differently. This time, Jace thought it sounded nice.

“Well, the tattoos-”

“Runes,” Jace corrected softly.

Simon ignored him and kept going. “-the jacket, the weird ritualistic things you all do-”

Jace rolled his eyes yet again. He didn’t think that quite sounded like a gang but then again, he’d never been in one. “If I’m in a gang, then you are too,” he insisted.

“Yeah,” Simon said, suddenly smiling. “I’ve been indoctrinated by my hot boyfriend.” A moment after he said it, Simon’s smile faltered. “Too early?” He asked nervously.

Jace stared for a moment before he shook his head, trying and probably failing to hide exactly how much he liked hearing Simon say that. “Not too early,” he murmured in response.

Simon hesitated for another moment, looking as if he was debating something before he finally reached forward and took Jace’s hand into his own. That too was something Jace had never really done before. Like the word ‘boyfriend’, hand holding was all too personal for the people he’d been with before that he had not cared about. Now, the feeling of Simon’s hand in his own made Jace feel fuzzy and warm.

“Too early?” Simon asked softly.

Jace tightened his hand on Simon’s own. “Not too early,” he repeated before he was walking again, pulling Simon by his hand until Simon finally started walking again, clutching Jace’s hand tight in his own as if he was scared Jace would let go if he loosened his grip. “Let’s get to Clary and get back to the Institute before you get us involved in some other mundane mess.”

Jace expected Simon to have some witty remark back but Simon didn’t. He simply squeezed Jace’s hand and nodded. It occurred to Jace after a moment that Simon might want to get to the Institute to be alone with him and as the thought occurred to him, Jace felt his stomach light up with what he could only describe as butterflies.

He’d never understood when people described that feeling to him but he understood now. Jace tightened his grip on Simon’s hand and kept walking, a touch faster now, suddenly looking forward to getting home for more reasons than simply safety.

#jimon #shadowhunters #simon lewis #jace herondale #shadowhunter simon #getting together #fics #my fics

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter ten

chapter ten is here, yay! hope you all enjoy it! somewhat important update in the notes at the end of the chapter on ao3 for those interested. thanks in advance!

ao3 link here

Holding the premier of the school play on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was a bold move in Annabeth’s opinion, so it was surprising that the school’s parking lot was nearly filled, although that almost certainly had to do with the fact that Piper was playing Viola in the school’s production of Twelfth Night. Her performances in the school plays had turned into something of local legend after all. It had all started when she landed the role of Ophelia as a freshman, a feat in and of itself, but it was the way that she had sent audiences home in tears each night of the production that had catapulted her to near mythic status among the student body. It had gotten to the point where even many members of the football team could be found patiently waiting in line to watch a Shakespearean play.

Ever prepared, Annabeth had come fairly early to help secure seats for herself and the rest of her friends. The moment the doors opened, she made a beeline for the rows close to the stage and found some center seats, but when the auditorium began to fill its seats quicker than she anticipated and none of her friends had yet to arrive, she was forced to concede all of the seats she’d reserved except for two, one on either side of her. As more and more of the seats began to get filled, She came close to sending a text in the group chat as her sense of worry grew. Fortunately, that was when Jason showed up, a grateful smile on his face as he sank into the seat next to her. He took off his jacket, draping it on the seatback, and rubbed at the dark bags beneath his eyes.

“You look like a panda,” Annabeth said, smirking.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and scowled. “Very funny. I’ve been neck deep in planning for the stupid after-party, and it has been a total nightmare.”

“So I take it that working with Drew Tanaka isn’t a good time then?”

Jason rolled his eyes and said, “There’s just something about event planning that turns her into a demon. At one point, I legitimately thought she was going to skin me alive.”

“Very dramatic,” Annabeth teased, squeezing his shoulder. “At least the worst is over now.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason muttered. “Otherwise, I might not live to see another day.”

Annabeth was about to say something when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and looked at the caller ID, which immediately sent a frisson of irritation running through her. That was probably the seventeenth time this random number had called her over the past two weeks. She didn’t recognize the number at all, but whoever it was happened to be incredibly persistent about calling her.

“That number again?” Jason asked.

Annabeth sighed and nodded. “It’s starting to get really fucking annoying.”

“You should just block ‘em and save yourself the trouble,” Jason said, shrugging.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Annabeth said, sighing. “I’ll do it after the show.”

Jason nodded and pulled out his phone to shoot some texts, presumably to the group organizing the after-party. Annabeth spent her time scrolling mindlessly through Twitter, waiting for Percy to show up, but he was still missing two minutes before the show was due to begin. It was only once the lights began to dim that Annabeth heard the familiar cadence of his footsteps behind her. Percy squeezed past the people who were already seated, murmuring apologies as he passed by, before he sank into the seat beside her. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and winced as he probed his upper back muscles.

Annabeth looked at him with concern and said, “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Percy said, grimacing.

“I swear your coach has been extending practices by an hour every month now since the start of the school year.”

Percy huffed a laugh. “You’re probably right. I swear, he’s trying to kill me. Literally every part of my body hurts right now.”

Annabeth frowned in the dark. In all his years on the team, she had never heard Percy complain about his body hurting after practices. His coach must have been pushing him even harder over this past month than normal. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

She leaned in to him to whisper to him and found her face heating up at the distracting scent of body wash and chlorine clinging to his skin, evidence of the post-practice shower he must have taken before coming here.

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and mumble, “If you feel that bad, you should have just gone home. Piper would understand.”

“I’m not missing the premier just because I’m a little sore,” Percy said, shaking his head.

Annabeth paused before giving him a tentative nod and turning back to the stage, but she still felt lingering traces of embarrassment. That scent was beyond familiar to her and it had been for years, so she was troubled by how she had suddenly become so conscious of it.

Fortunately, the start of the play gave her a way to stop treading down that creepy train of thought. She had read Twelfth Night once during middle school, but it hadn’t made much of an impression on her. Seeing it performed now, the play was a lot better than she had remembered, but then again Piper had always insisted that there was a huge difference between reading a play versus seeing one live. For a high school play, Annabeth couldn’t help being impressed by the level of care and effort that had gone into every element of the production, from the set design to the lighting and wardrobe. Of course, the actors were great as well, but Piper stole the show as Annabeth had expected.

It took her a while to realize that Percy was mouthing lines beside her, nearly verbatim. At first, she’d thought she was hearing things, but when she stole a sidelong glance at Percy, she noticed that he was leaning forward in his seat, staring intently at the stage and whispering the lines to himself.

“But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them,” Percy mouthed.

On stage, Piper said, “Thy reason, man?”

Percy whispered, "Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.”

Annabeth shook her head in amazement before knocking elbows with him to get his attention. He froze in his seat, face turning a gentle shade of vermilion in response to being caught, before turning to face her.

��You know all the lines?” Annabeth whispered incredulously.

Percy ducked his chin. “Not all of them, just the scenes where Piper has lines. Must have helped her rehearse them like a hundred times.”

“And let me guess, she didn’t ask for your help: you volunteered,” she said, sighing.

Annabeth found herself shaking her head again when he rubbed the back in his neck and looked away with a sheepish smile. It was amazing that Percy had managed to memorize all those lines, but it was even more impressive that he had done so while juggling all his other responsibilities. Her heart welled up inside her chest looking at him while he tried to not-so-subtly divert her attention back to the play, still blushing profusely, as if he didn’t realize he was more amazing in her eyes than anything Shakespeare could’ve ever written.

Before she knew it, the play was over, and Annabeth found herself waiting backstage with her friends for Piper to finish changing into her normal clothes. Leo and Frank spoke quietly to one another while Hazel was noodling with her phone. Jason drummed his fingers against his pants and rocked on his heels and kept looking down the hallway to the changing rooms with poorly suppressed excitement, practically embodying the spirit of a golden retriever. Percy stood beside her, leaning against a wall with his eyes closed, close enough for their elbows to touch.

When Piper showed up with an exhausted smile on her face, Jason rushed in and pulled her into a fierce hug.

“You were amazing,” he said.

Piper laughed tiredly and whispered, “Thanks, Jace.”

Jason stepped away suddenly and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed by such a public display of affection. Piper rolled her eyes and poked him with her elbow before turning to address the rest of them.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. I really appreciate it.”

“Jason is right,” Frank said. “You were really great out there tonight.”

Everyone chimed in with words of agreement, which flustered Piper a little, much to Annabeth’s delight. Piper rarely ever got flustered except when she got bombarded by compliments that she had rightfully earned. Percy was the only one who didn’t say anything, but he watched the entire scene with a soft smile on his face. Once she’d given everyone else a hug, Piper met Percy’s eyes, her eyes shining with gratitude, and a wordless understanding passed between them.

“So, after-party everyone?” Jason asked.

Piper leaned against him and nodded tiredly. “I could certainly use a drink right now.”

Jason smiled before turning to the group and saying, “It’s at Drew’s place. I texted the address to our group chat in case anyone didn’t remember it.”

With that, they dispersed and made their way to the parking lot. It was dark outside even though it wasn’t all that late, but it was nothing unexpected considering December was on its way. Annabeth buried her hands in the front pocket of her sweatshirt, but she still couldn’t help shivering as the wind howled past them.

Percy smoothed his wind-tousled hair with a scowl before he gave her a sidelong glance. “So I’m guessing your parents didn’t change their mind about the after-party then?”

Annabeth nodded. “They are still insisting that I spend some quality ‘family time’ with them for Thanksgiving. Whatever the fuck that means.”

“Maybe it’s a good sign,” Percy said.

Annabeth snorted and said, “Knowing Helen, I highly doubt that. It’s probably just going to be a miserable meal with passive aggressive comments for dessert.”

Percy stopped and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze, forcing her to meet his eyes, which shone with concern.

“If it gets bad and you ever need to get out of the house, give me a call, okay?”

Annabeth tried for a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her ears. “Come on, Jackson. You don’t think I can survive one measly dinner?”

“I know you can,” Percy said, firmly but not unkindly. “But there’s a big difference between surviving something and not having to suffer because of it.”

She didn’t really know how to respond to that, so she just remained silent. Percy looked at her and waited for a short while before he sighed and dropped her arm. Annabeth could tell by the downturn of his lips and the furrow of his brow that he still wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t plan on changing her mind. No matter what happened at tonight’s dinner, she was determined not to call Percy. A nameless fear had begun to take root inside her. She couldn’t say what it was, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if she continued to rely on Percy as heavily as she had. Maybe she was completely off-base or maybe she was simply imagining the whole thing. And yet it grated on her like an itch she couldn't scratch, telling her, compelling her to at least do something.

Percy scuffed his converses against his ankle and nodded again. “Well, I guess I'll see you when you come over on Friday then?”

Annabeth nodded and watched him leave before she made her way back to her car. She didn’t remember much of the drive back home. The spam caller called again at some point, but apart from that the only thing that stuck out was how the pit in the center of her stomach grew the closer she got to her house. When she wasn't eating outside the house, Annabeth usually holed herself in her bedroom until the rest of the family finished dinner before she went downstairs to microwave the leftovers and bring them back upstairs with her. Tonight, unfortunately she had no such avenue of escape.

Once she parked in the driveway, Annabeth continued to sit there in the dark, her hands wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly the cheap stitching on the faux leather dug into her palms. She couldn’t help thinking at that moment that silence wore many different faces. When she was with Percy, silence was companionable and radiated a warmth that felt like trust. When she went for a run, silence was open and peaceful, almost like a physical space where she could leave reality behind for a short while. When she watched Percy give his mother a hug before he left the house, silence was wistful and forlorn, wrapping around her heart like tendrils of smoke. But now, as she sat in the car outside her own house, silence was unforgiving and violent, like a shark sensing blood in the water, waiting for her to tear herself to shreds.

But eventually, Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to take a deep breath before she finally made her way inside. She slipped past the door and quietly took her shoes off before heading to the dining room. The rest of her family was already seated and had started eating.

“Ah, Annabeth, we weren’t sure if you would make it, so we got started a little early,” Helen said, voice dripping with faux sincerity.

Annabeth pursed her lips and nodded sharply before she pulled out a chair for herself and sat down. She didn’t put much on her plate — barely enough mashed potatoes to make a mound drizzled with gravy, a small piece of grilled chicken, and some buttered vegetables — and tried to finish her food as quickly as she could so she could retreat to her room.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Helen to take issue with that. “Someone certainly seems to be in a rush today.”

Annabeth looked up from her plate and tried to quell the fire in her eyes, but it was difficult when Helen looked at her with that smile of hers like poisoned honey, while the coldness in her eyes communicated her utter and absolute disdain for Annabeth in a way words never could. Briefly, she looked to her father to see if he might intervene, but like always, she was disappointed. He was staring absentmindedly at the wall behind her, probably thinking about his research.

"I'm just really tired," Annabeth lied.

"And yet you had just enough energy to go to your friend's play," Helen said.

"It's almost like human beings have less energy over the course of a day."

She had tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it didn't seem to matter judging by the tick of Helen's jaw. Annabeth couldn't help deriving a twisted sense of pleasure at the momentary collapse in Helen's composure.

Helen sighed with mock affectation. "Children your age are so disrespectful these days."

Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "Must be because we’re on our phones all the time."

A gleam passed in Helen's eyes. "Or maybe it's because you associate with the wrong kinds of people."

Annabeth furrowed her brow and deliberately set her fork aside. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Helen raised her wineglass and took a sip before she spoke, and when she did her tone was feather-light. "Oh, it's nothing. As your mother, I'm just concerned when a girl your age spends all her time unsupervised, doing lord knows what, with someone like that Jackson boy."

Annabeth balled her hands into fists. “‘Someone like him’? You don’t even know him.”

Helen looked at her imperiously over the rim of her wine glass. “I don’t need to know him to know that he’s of the wrong sort.”

It took Annabeth a second to decipher what Helen had meant, but once she did the pit in her stomach burned with hellfire.

Annabeth barked a harsh laugh and crossed her arms over her chest. “So he’s the ‘wrong sort’ just because he isn’t white?”

“That wasn’t what I said,” Helen said mildly.

“No, but it's what you meant.”

For the first time that night, her father spoke, voice low yet firm.

“Annabeth,” he warned.

Annabeth bit her tongue and wrestled with the urge to scream. At that moment, her phone vibrated again in her pocket, so Annabeth decided to run with it. Anything to give her an excuse to leave.

Her chair emitted an unholy screech as she stood up. “I have to take an important call.”

Annabeth didn’t wait for Helen’s permission and left the dining room quickly, only just noticing the irritation in her eyes. She went upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her before pulling her phone out of her pocket.

When she looked at the caller ID and noticed it was that same spam number again, Annabeth clenched her jaw and made to reject the call before an idea occurred to her. If she couldn’t show any emotion around her family, well then this stubborn asshole who clearly couldn’t tell she wasn’t going to answer the phone would give her a good opportunity to vent.

“Hello?” Annabeth snapped, answering the phone.

The voice on the other end of the line sounded male. “Oh, um, hello. Am I speaking with Ms. Annabeth Chase?”

“Yes,” Annabeth spat. “And who are you?”

There was a pause — the speaker was clearly taken aback by Annabeth’s open hostility, but it didn’t take long for them to recover.

“I apologize if this is a bad time, but my name is Rick Waters. I’m the coach of the women’s cross country team here at the University of California, Berkeley. I just wanted to reach out to you regarding the offer of admission we sent you a month or so ago.”

A panicked flurry of thoughts blew through Annabeth's mind. “Oh, sorry, I thought you were a telemarketer. Did you say that you sent me an offer of admission a month ago?”

“Yes, we sent a letter in early October to be precise.”

“I never got anything in the mail,” Annabeth said, frowning.

“Oh, well I suppose that certainly explains things. Perhaps there was a mistake made somewhere along the way, but no harm done. I could inform you of our offer over the phone now, if you'd like."

Annabeth pressed a hand to her forehead and shut her eyes. "Um, yes, please do."

"Well, we've been scouting all over the country for new runners for the incoming freshman class, and we were very interested in you. You are clearly a very talented distance runner, and I think you would be a wonderful asset and a great fit with our team here at Cal. All our facilities are state-of-the-art, and we have some former Olympians on our coaching staff in addition to a team of dietitians, physical therapists, and psychologists. I’ll pause here if you have any questions.”

“No, not at the moment, sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed,” Annabeth said, mind reeling.

“I understand,” he said. “The reason I have been trying so hard to reach you, though, is because we need to know your decision before the 30th, which is in four days.”

Only four days? How the fuck was she supposed to write all those supplementary essays in only four days? It had taken her months to just finish the essays for the Common App.

“What is the process if I decide to commit to Berkeley?” Annabeth asked. “Like, am I required to send an application and include essays?”

“No, we wouldn’t need anything supplementary. We do, however, require a transcript, but we’ve already been in contact with your high school regarding that, and it was more than satisfactory. In fact, we were highly impressed with your academic performance.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” Annabeth said, feeling relieved.

“Of course,” the coach said. “One final thing I wanted to mention is that we would be willing to offer you a fairly sizable athletic scholarship should you decide to attend in the fall. It would cover a majority of your tuition and room and board fees.”

Annabeth leaned against her door and sank down to the floor, smiling so widely it hurt. The one fear she had had was how she would afford going to Berkeley, so she was beyond relieved that they were willing to give her a scholarship. For once in her life, it seemed that all her hard work had actually amounted to something. For once, her accomplishments actually mattered.

“Thank you so much,” Annabeth said quietly.

“Take some time to think about it, but please do get back to us by the 30th so that we can secure your admission. To be perfectly honest, the deadline for athletic recruitment ended in October, but I’ve been adamant with the Admissions Office that you were special and that the deadline be extended on your behalf.”

Annabeth's throat constricted and her heart squeezed in her chest. “I really don't know what to say. Just thank you so much. I really do appreciate it. I’ll be sure to get back to you by the 30th.”

“Wonderful,” he said. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

With that, the phone call ended, and Annabeth knocked the back of her head against the door and stared up at the ceiling, not sure whether to cry or laugh. As the coach had said, recruitment was usually finished by October, so the fact that she hadn’t received any offers from schools had been depressing. She had assured herself that her application was strong enough on its own to brave the conventional admissions process, but this was an immense weight off her shoulders. Of course, that meant that all those hours she’d spent on writing her stupid Common App essay had been pretty much useless, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The only thing that soured her mood was the knowledge that she still needed to go back downstairs to deal with her step-mother now that the call was over. Annabeth sat there and looked up at her popcorn ceiling, trying to muster the strength to get up, but it still took her the better part of ten minutes before she finally rose to her feet and closed the door behind her.

:::

Friday at the Jackson household was often a rambunctious affair, but it was quieter than normal when Annabeth came to visit the day after Thanksgiving. But that was largely due to the fact that Paul happened to be away at a teacher’s conference, Estelle at a playdate at a friend’s house, and Sally was upstairs, working on her writing, which left Annabeth alone with Percy downstairs.

He had been the one to suggest that they bake something together, much to her relief. She had wanted to do something where she could turn her brain off, and there was just something about baking in particular that tended to calm her down. As Annabeth sat on the countertop, swinging her legs, and watched Percy riffle through the pantry in search of ingredients, it occurred to her that that was probably why he’d suggested the activity to begin with. The domesticity of Percy humming a tuneless melody under his breath while moving about the kitchen in his pajamas made warmth blossom in her chest.

"Are you gonna help out or are you just continue checking me out, Chase?" Percy asked, looking inside a cupboard for vanilla extract.

Annabeth felt heat rush to her face as she hopped off the counter. She tried to keep her tone light and asked, "What am I not allowed to check out my fake-boyfriend?"

Percy looked at her over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Then surely you wouldn't mind if I were to check out my fake-girlfriend then."

Annabeth's heart fluttered in her chest. "It almost sounds like you're asking for permission."

It was hard to tell if the look in Percy’s eyes was teasing or challenging. "And if I am?"

Her throat had suddenly become completely dry. She wasn't sure if the move here was to say yes and double down or if she should play it off and change the topic.

She settled for the former and said, "And what would you do if I said yes?"

Percy's eyes darkened and his eyes darted to her lips for an instant before he cleared his throat conspicuously and turned away. “Good job. That should work when you get a real boyfriend.”

With that, the tension in the room dissipated into thin air, leaving Annabeth with a vague sense of dissatisfaction, although she couldn’t explain where it came from. Annabeth tried her best to put the interaction behind her and started helping Percy find the remaining ingredients, but she found her eyes wandering towards him without her permission. It was definitely because of the previous exchange, Annabeth reasoned, that she suddenly began paying attention to the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of his thin t-shirt when he reached up to get some nutmeg or the hard line of his jaw when she caught a glimpse of his profile as he turned away.

Her face began to heat up again, but this time it was because she was actually guilty of the crime she'd been accused of. She shook her head in an effort to dispel those thoughts, but she couldn't erase the images taking center stage in her mind's eye.

This was really fucking weird. She'd seen Percy practically every day for the last ten years, and his body had never distracted her like this, so it felt creepy and wrong. Yet, her eyes continued to wander towards him whenever she wasn’t vigilant, much to her embarrassment, as they started making the cookies.

They were nearly ready to put the chocolate chip cookie batter into the oven when Percy stopped and suddenly groaned.

"What?" she asked.

"I forgot the blue food coloring," he grumbled. "Mom and I ran out last time we made cookies."

Annabeth knew better than to ask him if it was really that important for the cookies to be blue, so she nodded and said, "Should we go to the grocery store?"

"Yeah, just let me get changed," Percy said, leaving the kitchen.

Sally made her way down the stairs and smiled as Percy went past her. She stepped into the kitchen and surveyed it for a moment before looking to her with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well, at least you both don't make nearly as big a mess as you used to."

"Sorry," Annabeth said, her face heating up.

"Relax, dear," Sally said, laughing. "I'm just pulling your leg."

Annabeth managed a smile and said, "How was your book tour?"

Sally leaned against the counter-top and sighed. "Exhausting, but overall, pretty good. Each time I have to do one of them, they just keep adding more and more cities. I know that it's a sign my books are reaching a wider audience, but it still wears out an old woman like me."

"You're not old at all, Sally," Annabeth said genuinely.

A warm smile crossed Sally's face. "You're sweet, dear. How have things been with you?"

Percy came downstairs, now that he'd changed, and jangled his car keys. "Ready to go?"

Annabeth looked to Sally and felt a surge of gratitude when Sally told Percy, "You go on ahead. Annabeth and I are going to have some girl time."

Percy looked between the two of them for a moment before he shrugged and left the kitchen. Annabeth waited until she heard the sound of the garage door closing before she spoke again.

"How did you know?" Annabeth asked.

"Hmm, know what?" Sally asked.

"Know that I wanted to talk to you.”

"I've known you since you were seven, dear," Sally said, giving her a significant look.

Annabeth couldn't help the fact that that brought a smile to her face. "Percy told me that he got recruited by USC."

"Mhmm."

“I’m happy for him and everything, but- I don’t know. It’s just that college actually feels real now and not like something imaginary in the far off future,” Annabeth said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"It’s a big change," Sally admitted. "But I'm sure you both can handle it when the time comes."

"I know,” Annabeth said. “I’m just worried about being apart from Percy and stuff.”

"Well, if you’re that worried, what if you found a college close by LA?" Sally asked.

Annabeth shook her head. "A recruiter from Berkeley reached out to me Wednesday night about joining the cross country team there. He said the university would even be willing to give me a pretty big scholarship, so I'm thinking of accepting."

"Annabeth, that's fantastic," Sally beamed. "Your parents must be so proud of you."

"They just asked how I was going to pay for it," Annabeth said, smiling thinly.

Sally's eyes softened and she pulled her into a warm hug. Annabeth didn't expect a lump to form in her throat, but it didn't surprise her when it happened. She knew from prior experience that Sally Jackson's hugs did tend to have that sort of effect.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm so incredibly proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished," Sally said. "Lord knows how hard you've worked these past few years."

"Thank you," Annabeth said, trying not to let her voice quiver.

Sally pulled away and framed Annabeth's face in her hands, smiling softly. "You've grown into such a wonderful young woman. It’s almost hard to believe that bossy little seven year old would grow up like this."

Annabeth wiped at her nose as a watery laugh escaped her. "Well, one thing hasn't changed: I'm still pretty bossy."

"Well, no one's perfect, after all," Sally said, a twinkle in her eye. "I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, dear. Berkeley and LA are in the same state."

"It's a five hour and forty-two minute drive," Annabeth said. "I, um, checked on Google Maps."

"That’s not that bad," Sally said. “You and Percy can deal with that.”

Annabeth shifted on her heels. "No, it's not that. I know we'll be okay, but I'm just worried it'll change things."

"Well, I know that the way you two feel about each other won't change and that's the most important thing," Sally said firmly.

"Of course, things will be different, but that doesn't mean it has to get worse. This is just another stage you have to pass through in your life, just like Percy does. But despite all that change, you will still be Annabeth and Percy will still be Percy, and that is enough for me to believe you both will be fine."

Annabeth considered her words before nodding. "I still haven't told him."

"He'll be happy to hear it."

"I know he will," Annabeth said. "I just want to be less of a wreck when I tell him. I don't want him to worry."

Sally smiled and said, "That boy will worry about you regardless of what you do."

"He shouldn't have to though," Annabeth said desperately. I’m not worth it.

"No, perhaps he shouldn't," Sally admitted. "But he chooses to anyways, and who are we to say he's wrong for it."

There was a pause before Annabeth quietly said, "Sometimes, it feels like he loves so hard, so honestly, so naturally that it's impossible for me to catch up."

"That's just the way he is," Sally said, a sad smile on her face. "His name means 'To Destroy', but there's no one more protective, more loving than my boy. Been that way all his life, even when he shouldn't have had to. Because of that, I’m afraid that I've hurt him without knowing, hurt him in ways that can't be fixed."

"You mean with Gabe?" Annabeth asked.

Sally's eyes turned hard. "He started trying to protect me from him ever since he was six and I don’t think he has ever stopped. Even now, I can see he still doesn't completely feel comfortable around Paul, but he bears it for my sake. He has always been willing to cause himself pain if it means alleviating someone else’s suffering. Sometimes, I worry that he feels the need to be responsible for how other people feel.”

Sally’s words immediately made Annabeth think about her conversation with Kara and how she had said something similar:

I just remember being so fucking stunned. Like, your girlfriend is telling you she’s breaking up with you after cheating on you, and your response is to go be someone else’s fucking therapist?

Annabeth balled her hands into fists and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure what to say. She had never been good with words or emotions, but she wasn’t even sure if this was something that could be fixed with just words. If she were like Percy, maybe she could think of the right combination of words to say in order to make this better, but she wasn’t.

She hated this. All her life, Annabeth had been praised for being intelligent. Most of her identity was built around that fact. Whenever her life went to shit, the one thing she could count on was the fact that she was smart: it was the one thing that made her feel like she was worth anything. But lately, Annabeth couldn’t help questioning if she’d built her entire sense of self around a lie. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been able to use her intelligence to solve a problem, or at least not any problem that mattered. It seemed pointless to have all this purported intelligence when life only sent her problems that couldn’t be solved just by thinking really hard.

Sally must have sensed Annabeth’s frustration because she put her hand on Annabeth’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Although she felt a bit better, it did nothing to dispel the underlying sensation of weight, like someone was sitting on her chest.

The garage door opened and Percy popped into the kitchen with an exuberant smile, holding a bottle of blue food coloring in his hand.

“Managed to get the last one!” he beamed before his smile fell and he looked between the two of them. “What happened here?”

Sally gave Annabeth’s shoulder another squeeze before making her way to the staircase. “Oh, nothing. Just girl stuff.”

Percy nodded but clearly looked unconvinced. Once Sally was gone, he turned to her with a question in his eyes.

“Girl stuff?” he asked.

Annabeth found herself settling for a half-truth yet again. It seemed like that was all she did these days when she spoke to Percy.

“A recruiter contacted me from Berkeley,” she said, looking at her feet. “They’re giving me a big scholarship if I go there to join the cross country team.”

Percy blinked before breaking into a smile and rushing to her with open arms. “Holy shit, Annabeth, that’s insane! I’m so happy for you!”

Annabeth returned his hug and smiled into his shoulder — Sally had been so spot on about his reaction that, despite her heavy mood, it was kind of hilarious.

“Thanks.”

Percy looked at her with a searching gaze. “Then why do we seem so sad?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “I’m not sad. I was just getting emotional with your mom about how much I’ve matured.”

“Hmm, you don’t look all that mature to me,” Percy said, appraising her.

“Asshole,” Annabeth grumbled. “I don’t seem to recall that being your opinion back when you were trying to get permission to check me out.”

Percy’s face flushed at the accusation, and his voice jumped an octave as he stammered, “T-That was to help you practice.”

“Yeah, sure,” Annabeth drawled. “Very convincing.”

“Now who’s being an asshole?”

“Couldn’t be me,” Annabeth said lightly.

“Of course not,” Percy said, rolling his eyes. “Now should we start making these cookies or not? I’m starving.”

Annabeth followed him to the batter and watched as he drenched it in blue food coloring, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, and found herself desperately wishing they had more time. There was a delicate, almost exquisite pain that came with the awareness that this couldn’t last, but watching Percy roll misshapen balls of blue cookie dough made it easier for her to ignore it. At least for a while.

#just practice #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #percabeth fake dating au #fake dating au #im so bad at endings fml #please reblog if you can it would mean a lot #ill love u forever and always

[forensicsisabelle]

Not Too Bad

SRating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV) Relationships: Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Alec Lightwood & Aline Penhallow, Max Lightwood-Bane & Aline Penhallow, Helen Blackthorn & Max Lightwood-Bane Characters: Aline Penhallow, Alec Lightwood, Helen Blackthorn, Max Lightwood-Bane, Magnus Bane Additional Tags: Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Married Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Married Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Babysitting, Shadowhunter Bingo Summary: Aline and Helen have begun discussing having kids, but Aline is worried that she doesn't have what it takes to be a good parent. After a heart-to-heart with Alec, Aline finds herself babysitting baby Max in what Alec and Helen hope will be a self-esteem boost. But things don't go as planned.

Written for @shadowhunterbingo Square filled: babysitting

Read on AO3.

“Aline?”

Alec’s questioning finally caught her attention, and Aline sat up straight, dropping her hand that she’d been resting her chin on as she stared at the fire on the other side of her office. Her cheeks warmed as she tilted her head up to look at Alec standing opposite where she sat at the desk, just to the side of the same fire. She prided herself on her abilities as a Shadowhunter, yet she hadn’t heard him approach or the knock on the door that she assumed he’d given her before walking in.

“Sorry,” she said with a self-conscious smile. “I’m a little distracted today.”

“I can see that,” Alec said, lowering himself into one of the chairs in front of her desk. He watched her for a moment before he continued. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no,” Aline said, waving her hand dismissively through the air. “It’s nothing that anyone should be worried about. I’d much rather discuss why you’re here. I assume there’s something you need to tell me?”

Alec’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press her any further.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “I was talking to Lindquist. A vampire clan in their jurisdiction wants to speak to the Clave, so I was hoping to talk to your mom about scheduling a meeting. Only she wasn’t in her office, so I came to see if you could pass the message on.”

Aline gave him a smile, much more at ease with the topic safely on work instead of anything personal. Alec may have been her friend, but she’d been having trouble discussing her feelings with Helen recently, let alone anyone else. Still, she felt dangerously close to blurting out her feelings to anyone who asked.

“Of course,” she said. “Last I heard, Mom had a meeting with Tessa Gray from the Spiral Labyrinth this morning, but I think she’ll be finished soon. We had plans to meet for lunch. I can pass on your message then.”

“Sounds good,” Alec said. “I was just about to head out to lunch myself, so I was hoping to let her know before I left. Better we don’t leave the Lindquists waiting too long. They’re not a big fan of your mother. Don’t want to give them more reasons to dislike her.”

Aline cringed. Now that Alec mentioned it, she remembered the spat her mother and the Lindquists had gotten into several years earlier. She couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about, but dealing with them had been touchy with her mother ever since.

“I’ll definitely let her know,” she said with a decisive nod.

With their business complete, she’d expected Alec to excuse himself, but he remained sitting in the chair across from her desk, watching Aline as if he were trying to sort something out. She stiffened, already sure of what was coming and dreading it.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about whatever had you lost in your own head when I came in?” he asked hesitantly.

They’d known each other for years, but Alec had always been more closed off with Aline than Isabelle or Jace. It was only in the past few years that she felt she’d really gotten to know the real him and not a closed off version that he’d carefully crafted to hide himself. She was pretty sure that he could say the same about her, even if she liked to think her facade had appeared more genine than his.

She sighed, feeling her resistance crumbling from no other power than his gaze.

“Helen and I have been talking about adoption,” she admitted. “It’s not new. We both said we wanted to have kids when we first got together, but now we’re really talking about it.”

“Like the ‘it may happen soon’ kind of talking about it?” Alec asked, leaning forward in his chair.

His eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea, and Aline couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter at his eagerness for someone else to have kids. She never would have pegged Alec as a kid person before baby Max had come along, yet his son had made him more baby crazy than anyone she knew. Not even her wife with her million siblings who she’d practically raised could compare.

“I think so,” Aline said quietly, her gaze on the fire. “It would make sense. We’re married now. We’re settled, and we’ve always said that we would. Now’s the time.”

Alec’s excited smile dropped into something threatening to become a frown.

“Are you sure about it?” he asked. “Because if you don’t actually want kids, you shouldn’t—”

“I do,” Aline rushed to assure him.

With anyone else, she would have been offended that they’d offered unsolicited advice as if she hadn’t carefully considered everything for herself, but she didn’t feel that way towards Alec. She just felt tired after the long morning she’d had obsessing over the same nagging thoughts that had been coming and going for months.

“I want kids,” she added even more forcefully. “That’s something I’m sure of, and I wouldn’t have promised Helen otherwise if I wasn’t. It’s just that…” She fiddled with her pen the click clack of her opening and closing it echoing through the room. “I’m an only child,” she continued. “Helen has lots of younger brothers and sisters. She’s been around kids her whole life, and she’s so good at taking care of them. Any time that something happens, she knows exactly what to do. It’s like she doesn’t need to think about it.”

Aline clicked the pen closed and threw it down on the desk before sinking back into her chair. Alec was silent as he watched her, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

“I don’t have instincts like that,” Aline admitted, staring into the fire. “I’m an only child. The closest I’ve come to taking care of kids is helping out with Helen’s siblings sometimes, but there’s always someone else around too. And they were all older when I met them anyway. It was nothing like taking care of an actual baby, you know? I don’t know how to do that.”

She fell quiet, her cheeks were warm, but she couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the heat from the fire. She tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair, waiting for Alec to say something to end the judgement she felt.

“Lots of people don’t know much about kids when they have their own,” he said slowly, turning over each word carefully before he said them. I was eleven when my youngest brother was born, and I had to help out some, but that was nothing compared to having my own kid. And lots of only children have kids. Either way, you have to figure out everything as you go. It’s difficult sometimes, but I know you and Helen would be up for it. You’d care too much to do a bad job.”

Aline offered him as genuine of a smile as she could muster.

“Thank you. I wish I could believe that as much as you claim to.”

Alec shook his head in amusement.

“Well, if practice would make you feel better, Magnus and I are always up for a date night. You and Helen can watch Max any time. Just let us now.”

The idea sent adrenaline through Aline’s veins. She’d never watched a kid as young as Max before. She wasn’t even sure if she’d held a kid as young as Max except for the times she’d held Max himself. As a result, she’d always been more nervous around the baby than she wanted to admit.

“Do you mean that?” she asked. “You’d trust us with him?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Alec asked with a laugh. “Like you said, Helen has a ton of experience. Between the two of you, I can’t imagine anything bad would happen.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. Aline knew Max better than she’d ever known a baby, and she knew he was fairly well behaved. A bit mischievous at times as was probably required by the son of Magnus Bane, but it was nothing too bad. If she couldn’t handle him, then it would be a real sign that she needed more experience under her belt before she and Helen took the next step.

“I should talk to Helen first,” she said. “But thanks for the offer. It’s not a bad idea.”

“Of course,” Alec said, standing from his chair. “Like I said, just let us know if you want us to bring him around. We can make plans.”

She gave him one last smile as they said goodbye. Already, nerves were building in Aline’s stomach. Asking Helen about this meant admitting that she needed practice, and that on top of actually taking care of Max made her more nervous than it should have.

Aline plastered her best smile on her face as she tugged open the door to reveal the Lightwood-Bane family on the other side.

“Look who it is!” Alec crowed to the baby warlock in his arms.

Max babbled with excitement, smiling widely at Helen and Aline. He flapped his arms happily, one of them waking Alec against the chest repeatedly, not that he seemed to mind at all. Looking at him, you would have thought that he didn’t even feel a thing. Maybe he didn’t. Max’s fists were so small that Aline couldn’t imagine they made much of an impact, especially when you were used to much worse injuries. She swallowed, suddenly even more aware of the fact that this tiny person was going to be her and Helen’s responsibility.

“Hello,” Helen said, taking over the greetings as Aline struggled just to keep the smile on her face. “Look at you,” she said to Max in her best baby voice, which Aline would have found adorable if she weren’t petrified.

Her eyes grew wide as Alec slid Max into Helen’s arms. It was actually happening. They really would be left alone with him for the evening. Aline’s heart began to race faster than when she was face-to-face with a Shax demon.

Magnus handed Max’s bag out to her with a smile, and she took it without fully processing what was happening. It was black with blueberries embroidered into the fabric. She stared down at it as if she didn’t know what it was. It was heavy as she slugged it over her shoulder. She could only begin to imagine what was inside: diapers, bottles, toys. She wondered if she’d even recognize everything inside when she looked.

“Everything you need should be in there,” Magnus said, still smiling as if he didn’t notice Aline’s unease. But she knew he must have. “We packed twice the amount of diapers that we think he’ll need, so I really doubt you’ll run out of anything.”

“But if you do, just call us,” Alec finished. “Even if it’s just a question about something.”

“Of course,” Helen answered for the both of us. “I really don’t think there will be a problem, but if there is, we’ll let you know right away.”

A few more assurances were exchanged before Magnus and Alec were back out the door, Helen waving Max’s little hand at them as they left. The baby was still babbling in her arms, not concerned that his fathers had left him behind. He was a mild mannered baby all things considered. Aline tried to let that comfort her as she remained rooted in the same spot with Max’s diaper bag over her shoulder. It had been a struggle to even get a ‘goodbye’ out to Magnus and Alec when they left.

Helen gripped her shoulder.

“Aline, calm down. He’s not even remotely upset yet.”

“Yet,” Aline repeated dryly.

Helen rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she carried Max down the hall and into the living room. Aline followed her with the bag and sat it on the coffee table. She unzipped it to find a plethora of baby supplies, and she breathed easier with the knowledge that she recognized just about everything in the bag. She pulled out a toy and held it out to Max, who took it with a cheerful cry and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Get that blanket and spread it on the floor,” Helen said. “We can set him down and let him play for now.”

Aline did as instructed, even placing down the other toys his dads had brought along, and watched as Helen sat the baby down. She half-expected Max to start crying the second he was out of someone’s arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. Helen knelt beside him, and he played with his toys happily, almost as if he’d entered his own little world with them.

Tension left Aline’s body, and she sunk onto the couch.

“Don’t relax too much,” Helen said, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “We’re only five minutes into the evening. He will cry, Aline. The goal is to keep a level head when he does.”

Aline sighed. “I know that, but I already told you that I can’t promise anything.”

Helen laughed. “And I told you that, if you can fight demons, then you can handle a baby for a few hours. Remember, it’s okay if you don’t know why he’s crying the second he starts crying. We’ll figure out what’s up together, okay?”

Aline nodded. She sure hoped she could manage that.

Max babbled excitedly as Aline zoomed the spoon towards his mouth like one of those mundane airplanes. Helen had warned her that he may not accept the food easily. Apparently, Tavvy had refused to eat mashed carrots when he was Max’s age, but Max accepted them with no problem, smiling happily as he chowed down and smeared the bright orange mush all over his face.

For the first five or so spoonfuls, Aline had felt proud. Max was hardly even making a mess, and she was confident they’d make it through the whole meal without any major mishaps.

The feeling of success was premature. A few minutes in, Max started trying to grab the spoon from her hand. Aline’s reflexes were quick. She swiped the spoon away before he could get hold of it, but the whine he let out at the rebuff set off alarm bells in Aline’s mind. She knew it was a bad sign.

Sure enough, the next time she raised the spoon to Max’s lips, he tried to get the spoon again, but this time, he knew better than to just reach with his hands. Blue spars erupted from his hands, and Aline felt a supernatural tug on the spoon. She tightened her grip, determined not to let go, but Max kept tugging. Alec had to have a method for dealing with moments like these, but Aline had no idea what that method was. In the magical tug-of-war, the mashed carrots went flying and landed on the other side of the kitchen floor with a splat. Max laughed in delight and clapped his hands, no longer trying to grab the spoon that was still in Aline’s hand.

Helen chose that moment to enter from the other room, where she’d been picking up the toys Max had been playing with earlier.

“Oh,” she said, looking down at the splatter of carrot with a smirk. “Is someone having too much fun with his dinner?”

Aline rolled her eyes and grumbled. She knew that babies made messes, yet she couldn’t help but be a little annoyed to have her perceived success yanked away from her. Still, when the babbling Max looked at her happily, she managed a smile. She pushed the spoon back towards his mouth, and he accepted it easily, apparently content to eat this particular spoonful instead of making a mess.

Sensing Aline’s annoyance, Helen came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders.

“If that’s the only mess he’s made so far, then you’re doing a good job,” she said encouragingly.

Aline nodded but didn’t verbally respond as she tried to get Max to take another bite. Once again, he was more interested in grabbing the spoon than eating. Feeling self-conscious in Helen’s presence, Aline didn’t react quickly enough, and another splatter of carrot went flying in the opposite direction of the last one. Aline sighed as Max laughed. Helen gave her shoulders another squeeze, massaging them for a moment.

“I’ll clean it up,” she said, doing just that as Aline continued feeding Max.

It was silent as they both completed their jobs, Helen humming to herself while Aline did her best to stay calm. She wasn’t mad at Max; she was frustrated with herself. Surely, there was a secret to getting more food in his mouth than on the floor that she wasn’t aware of. Perhaps Magnus was able to deter Max from his mischief with magic, but Alec must have had a different strategy. Helen probably knew it too. Whatever it was, Aline couldn’t figure it out.

By the end of the meal, Aline wasn’t sure how much of the food Max had eaten instead of played with, but Helen swore it was enough. She took the baby, who was still babbling happily, to wash the slowly trying food off his face and hands. Aline leaned back in the chair, searching for the energy needed to clean up the high chair.

She couldn’t believe how much energy one dinner had taken out of her when she hunted demons every night. It shouldn’t have been possible. She ran a hand over her brow, more sure than ever that she wasn’t cut out for kids no matter how much she wanted them.

Helen found her in that position a few minutes later with a much cleaner Max in her arms. She sat down in the chair next to Aline and reached out to take her hand. Aline continued to stare at the mess on the high chair.

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Helen said. “It was your first dinner. You didn’t do a bad job, Aline.”

“How do I feel so tired?” Aline asked instead of responding to what Helen had actually said. “It shouldn’t be possible.”

Helen shrugged. “Like I said, it was your first time. Babies are a lot of work. That doesn’t mean you were bad, Aline. It just means you’re new at it. Even parents need a break sometimes.”

Aline didn’t respond. She wanted to believe Helen. She was even sure that Helen was convinced of what she was saying, but she just couldn’t believe it herself. Surely some kind of maternal instincts should have kicked in, but they hadn’t. There was something about taking care of kids that just didn’t click with her; she was sure of it.

She rose to grab a dish rag and wet it in the sink, setting to work cleaning the high chair without looking at Helen. Max was being much quieter than he had been during the meal, watching Aline work from Helen’s arms. Aline tried not to look at him too much as she worked.

Aline let Helen take the lead when it came to putting Max to bed. She hovered, prepared to step in and assist whenever needed, but she didn’t trust herself nearly well enough to do any of the most important tasks.

Max had sniffled a little once he realized he was being put down in the bassinet that had once been Tavvy’s, but Helen had quieted him with an ease that had left Aline in awe. By the time they were back in the living room, snuggling on the couch, Aline felt as if she were in a daze. The struggle she’d been expecting to happen before bedtime hadn’t come, but that didn’t make her feel at ease.

“You’re amazing,” she told Helen, letting her head fall to her wife’s shoulder. “I wish I could have helped more. I feel so useless.”

“Stop that,” Helen scolded, moving her shoulder to jostle Aline. “You fed him dinner, did you not? And you were a help putting him to bed even if you think you weren’t. Trust me. If that’s you being useless, then I know some actual parents who could learn a thing or two.”

Aline sighed, not believing Helen in the slightest. Anyone would have seen that Helen had done far more work than she had.

Just as she was about to respond, a high pitched squeal echoed through the house. It wasn’t one of terror, but it was loud enough that Helen and Aline both shot to their feet. Aline took off for the bedroom that they’d tucked Max away in before she could think about what she was doing. She reached the room before Helen, and her heart lurched into her throat when she saw that the bassinet was empty.

She whipped her head back and forth but didn’t spot him until Helen gasped, “Look up!”

Max’s back was pressed to the ceiling as if he’d been plastered to it. He laughed happily when they spotted him, clapping his hands together without a care in the world. If he realized he was hovering above the room, it didn’t bother him. Aline’s stomach dropped as she rushed forward to stand beneath him. At that moment, she may not have known how to get him down, but she wasn’t going to let him plummet to the floor.

“What do we do!?” Helen shouted, panicked for the first time since Max had arrived. “Neither of us can use magic, and he probably doesn’t know how to get himself down. Even if he did, he can’t understand what we tell him to do, and he could accidentally send himself in a freefall.”

Aline looked away from the baby long enough to zero in on the dresser that sat against the wall. It was a little far from the bassinet that Max was still floating over. If she stood on top, she wouldn’t be able to reach the baby.

“Come here and stand underneath him,” Aline said, using the same voice that she used when leading a team. “If he falls, you’ll have to catch him.”

Helen did as she asked, her arms out with a purpose despite no sign that Max was budging.

“What are you doing?” she asked Aline as she the other woman approached the dresser.

“Getting Max,” Aline said shortly as she took hold of one end of the dresser and tugged.

It wasn’t as easy as it would have been with someone at the other end helping her, but she could at least maneuver half the dresser closer to the bassinet. She climbed on top of it and found that the tips of her fingers could just about brush the ceiling. Max babbled happily when he saw that she was closer to him. His back was still pressed against the ceiling, and he didn’t show any signs of moving, but she knew better than to rely on that.

Helen still hovered beneath him, not moving an inch. The dresser was still a bit too far away for Aline to snatch Max out of the air easily. She moved carefully to the edge, her feet partially dangling off the side. It would be hard to reach for Max and also keep her balance. There was a chance that Helen would be catching her instead of the baby, but she’d have to risk it.

She reached for Max, and in what could only be a twist of fate, Max reached eagerly for her in response. He moved, and for a second, her heart dropped with the fear that he was about to fall. Instead, he reached his tiny blue fist out, and it was enough for Aline to grab onto him.

She tugged. It was rougher than she would have dared be with him in any other circumstance, but she didn’t know what other choice she had. As soon as he was close enough, she clutched him to her chest with one arm and used the other to stay balanced as she wobbled from side-to-side. Helen latched onto her legs, doing what she could to keep Aline standing. After a tense second, they both realized that Aline and the baby were stable, and Helen laughed, hitting Aline’s foot in her excitement.

Aline allowed herself a smile as she crouched down and handed the baby to Helen before climbing off the dresser herself. The rush of adrenaline that had pushed her to act fled, and she collapsed back against the dresser for support as her head spun. She watched in bafflement as Max stared between the two of them with wide eyes, not showing much of a reaction to what he’d just put them through.

Helen surged forward and captured Aline’s lips in a kiss. Aline gasped, her mind struggling to process what had happened, let alone a kiss.

“That was incredible!” Helen exclaimed loudly. “I was so worried that we wouldn’t be able to get him down, but you climbed onto that dresser like you’d already prepared for him to fly into the air like that. Amazing!”

Aline shrugged. It didn’t feel as impressive to her as it was to Helen. She’d only done the first thing she could think of when she’d seen Max hovering above them. It easily could have been Helen who’d thought of it first.

“You could’ve done it,” she said in a weak voice.

Helen raised an eyebrow. Max let out a squeal in her arms, and Helen rocked him back and forth, starting the process of getting him back to sleep.

“But I didn’t,” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “All I did was panic at the door. I might still be there if you hadn’t acted.”

Aline knew that wasn’t true. Helen would have gotten herself together eventually, and if Max had fallen, there was no way Helen would have stood there and done nothing. But she was right in a sense. Aline had been the first to think of a way to get him down, and she’d followed through on that plan without thinking. She bit her lip to hold back her smile, but it was useless. Helen smiled at her, and Aline couldn’t disguise it any longer.

“See,” Helen said, tilting her head to the side. “You wouldn’t be as bad at parenting as you think.”

Max may have been one of the most adorable babies she’d ever met, but Aline breathed a sigh of relief when Alec and Magnus knocked on the front door not even an hour after the ceiling incident.

Helen led Magnus straight to the room where Max was sleeping. There hadn’t been any more magical incidents since the first. Aline hovered in the hallway with Alec, internally debating how many of the night’s events she should share with him. She didn’t want to keep anything a secret, but she also wasn’t sure how to broach the most dramatic of the night’s events.

“Did everything go well?” Alec asked with a slightly nervous smile as if he was expecting to hear the worse.

Aline wanted to ask him where those nerves had been when he was assuring her that everything would be fine, but she didn’t.

“He’s healthy, I think,” she said slowly. “But there was an...incident after we put him to bed.”

Alec groaned, his whole body crumpling.

“Please tell me he didn’t levitate himself again.”

“Again!?” Aline snapped, crossing her arms against her chest. “You’re telling me that he’s done that before, and you didn’t warn us?”

Alec scrunched his shoulders up towards his ears and gave her a sheepish smile.

“It must have slipped our minds. It’s not like he does it every night. It’s only been a few times, and last time it happened was a few months ago. I genuinely didn’t think about it.”

Aline sighed, the tension she’d felt over revealing the truth leaving her.

“Yeah, well, he’s fine, so I guess it’s all in the past now,” she said.

Alec narrowed his gaze.

“How did you get him down? The other times it’s happened, Magnus has had to use magic.”

So, Aline quickly told him the story of the dresser, earning a laugh and a pat on the back.

“For whatever it’s worth,” he said just as Helen and Magnus appeared at the other end of the hall, “I agree with Helen.”

#shadowhunterbingo #heline #aline penhallow #malec #alec lightwood #max lightwood-bane #helen blackthorn #magnus bane #my fanfic

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

All-In

Summary: Jace is nervous about coming out to Alec as grey ace, but Alec reassures him that he has nothing to worry about. He is, and always has been, perfect for Alec.

For @mewsiex

A/N: I hope you like it, Kissa <3 I tried to incorporate a few of your prompts into this. I'm really bad at writing smut and I'm terrible at doing it "on command" so I wanted to give you something that wasn't smut - read: something that isn't completely awful, lololol. I really hope you enjoy it, anyway!The title comes from my strange urge to put poker into this fic (which I did, for about a line aksfjks) after playing about three hours' worth of Texas Hold 'Em last night with family. No warnings within (for once)! I hope you enjoy this!

Read it on ao3: HERE

The noise at the table was comfortable, but Alec knew Jace sometimes wasn’t in the mood to deal with even the barest hint of laughter or the quietest of jeers, so he couldn’t say he was surprised when Jace excused himself to go to the bathroom and never came back.

Alec let him be for a few minutes; he knew Jace liked his privacy. But after a half hour passed and it became clear that Jace had disappeared with no intentions of returning, Alec was sent by Maryse to find him and check on him. It was rare that the family got a chance to play poker together, and Alec knew that Maryse knew Jace wouldn’t have left without a good reason. Secretly, Alec was worried, too, but his family didn’t need to know that.

Alec checked all of the usual spots first: his bedroom, the training room, Alec’s room, the ops center. When none of those turned up anything, Alec sighed and began to climb the stairs to the roof. It was rare, but sometimes, when he was upset or needed to think about something, Jace would find his way to the Institute’s roof and stay there, oftentimes for hours on end.

Alec reached the top of the steps and pushed the door open, revealing - not to his surprise, but still to his dismay - the hunched figure of his parabatai standing near the edge of the roof. He could tell Jace was tense by the set of his shoulders, and he was gripping the concrete so hard Alec feared it might crumble underneath his fingers.

“Hey,” he called, and Jace froze, his back going rigid. Alec frowned. Usually Jace was happy to see him, or at the very least relieved that it was Alec who had gone after him instead of someone else who understood him less.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked, moving closer to Jace in the frigid night air. His breath made little white clouds as he exhaled. “Dude, come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Jace shook his head, not saying anything. Alec worried his bottom lip between his teeth and approached Jace cautiously. This wasn’t like him.

When he reached his parabatai, Alec placed a gentle hand on Jace’s shoulder, turning him around until they were facing each other. “Hey,” Alec said, his voice soft, tone inquiring. “What’s wrong?”

Jace shook his head again, avoiding Alec’s eyes. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, but Alec could tell he wasn’t angry. Alec stepped forward and took one of Jace’s hands, unfolding his fist and tangling their fingers together. “I know something’s wrong, Jace. I know you. Talk to me.”

“It’s not - ” Jace broke off, sighing. “It’s not anything we need to be worried about yet.”

“That’s obviously not true,” Alec pointed out. “You’re worried about it right now.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m just being stupid.”

“Hey,” Alec said, “I’m not saying you can’t be stupid sometimes, because you definitely can and are, but if something is bothering you? That’s never stupid, Jace.” He shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around his parabatai, placing one hand on the small of his back and moving it up & down his spine in a comforting manner. “I won’t think it’s stupid.”

Jace cringed, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “You might think it’s weird, though. You might not want to be with me anymore.”

“Jace, there is nothing you could say, short of ‘I killed your friend’, that would make me not want to date you anymore.”

“You might not feel that way after you hear this,” Jace cautioned him, his voice tight and unsure. “It’s, uh.” He broke off, pulling away from Alec and twisting his fingers together anxiously. “It’s just, not heard of in the Shadow World.”

“Being gay used to be unheard of in the Shadow World, too,” Alec said, rolling his eyes. “Trust me, Jace, whatever it is, I’m going to be fine with it.”

“Okay,” Jace agreed reluctantly. “If you say so.” He was clearly still unsure about it, and Alec was at a loss for what to do to make him feel better about the whole ordeal.

A sudden wave of guilt crashed over Alec, and he was suddenly filled with remorse. He hadn’t meant to force Jace into telling him something he wasn’t ready to speak about.

“You know you don’t have to tell me, right? Only if you want to. I’ll love you either way.” Alec sent Jace a reassuring look and gave one of his hands a little squeeze.

Jace chuckled, smiling a little. “Yeah, I know.�� They were quiet for a few minutes, aside from the occasional cars driving past and the buzz of pedestrians’ chatter. Alec tried to communicate supportcarelove through their parabatai bond, resisting the urge to take Jace’s hand in his and kiss how much he loved him into the other boy’s palm. The ball was in Jace’s court now, and whatever he said, Alec knew it had to be his decision.

Finally, after a few long minutes, Jace inhaled shakily and began to speak. “So, uh, y-you know I’ve been with lots of people.”

Alec nodded minutely. Jace’s body count was impressive, and they both knew it, but it had never bothered him. Alec was the only one Jace had ever loved.

“Well, it’s helped me realise a few things about myself,” Jace continued. He took a deep breath, and then asked: “Do you know what it means to be asexual?”

Alec thought back to the LGBTQ+ articles he’d read online when he was first discovering he liked men, and he remembered one that had gone into detail about asexuality. “I think so,” he answered. “It means you’re not interested in sex?”

“Well, kind of,” Jace replied. “Not, uh, not exactly.”

“Okay,” Alec said, nodding. “Tell me more?” He kept his voice soft and free of judgement, hoping to communicate to Jace that he was listening and supportive and willing to accept whatever it was he had to say.

“See, asexuality is like, well, it’s kind of like a spectrum. Some people who identify as asexual or a form of it aren’t necessarily uninterested in sex. F-For instance, there’s a certain label called grey asexual, or grey ace, and it can mean, among other things, that there’s only certain parts of sex that you’re interested in. Like maybe you’re only interested in it when playing a certain role or in a certain position.”

Alec nodded, taking in the new information. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.” Jace fell silent at that, avoiding Alec’s gaze. It took a few seconds for everything to click in Alec’s mind, but when it did, he grabbed Jace’s shoulder, searching for his golden eyes in the darkness of the roof. “Wait, are you trying to tell me that you’re grey ace?”

“Maybe?” Jace hedged, his voice small and vulnerable. “What if I was? Would you care?”

“Of course not!” Alec exclaimed. “The only thing I care about, Jace, is that you didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell me this sooner.” He wrapped his arms around his parabatai, one hand going to the nape of Jace’s neck to comb through the fine hairs there. “I don’t care about the sex, okay? I don’t care about...any of that. I care about you.”

Jace exhaled shakily, burying his face in Alec’s neck. “Good. I - thank you.”

Alec said nothing, pressing a light kiss to the top of Jace’s head instead. They swayed together for a few minutes, and Alec wondered how long Jace had been hiding that, waiting and hoping and praying that Alec wouldn’t turn him away because of it. The thought filled him with an overwhelming feeling of love for his parabatai, and he held Jace that much tighter for it.

“We should go inside,” Jace said eventually, sighing and pulling away. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

“Poker can wait ‘til next time,” Alec countered. “We should go inside - it’s fucking cold out here - but just...let’s ditch for the evening, yeah? I want to kiss you.”

“Yeah, well, what are you waiting for?” Jace teased, sidling closer.

Alec chuckled and obliged him, leaning forward and placing a soft, tender kiss on Jace’s lips. He rested his forehead against Jace’s, his fingers groping for his parabatai rune on instinct. “I hope you know,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “that I’m in this for the long haul, Jace. I-I’m here for whatever life throws at both of us. You’ll never be alone. I’m here for it all.”

Jace nodded, too overcome with emotion to respond, and Alec tactfully ignored the tears that he felt dampening his jacket as they embraced one last time before heading to the door and towards home.

Eventually, Alec knew that they would have to talk more about it, establish limits and discuss what Jace was & wasn’t okay with, but for now, he just wanted to hold his parabatai and remind him that there was nothing wrong with him, and that Alec was all-in, no matter what, for as long as they both lived.

#shrarepairexchange #sh rare pair gift exchange #shrarepair2021 #mewsiex

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

L&L - Chapter 12. Vampire issue [Alec Lightwood x Reader]

Title: Love and Leather - Chapter 12. Vampire issue ➔ Chapter 13. Here! Pairing: Alec Lightwood x Female!Reader Published: 23 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Love and Leather Masterlist | Masterlists

You were walking along the corridors to get to the Hall. There were reports of a couple of vampires going rouge which made the Institute busier than usual. Many Shadowhunters have been sent in the last couple of days to take care of the "issue" but came back injured and with an unsuccessful mission. Maryse was currently back in the Institute as the Clave felt that Alec was not in full control of whatever was happening in New York. They decided they needed a stronger hand for a temporary time.

As you arrived to the hall, Maryse was already explaining what they knew about the vampires. Which was basically none. Other than attacks on mundanes, the Shadowhunters were unable to gather much information.

"What did I miss?" You asked as you walked up to Izzy and Jace. Alec was standing next to Maryse on the top of the stairs, while Clary was looking at something on the computer.

"We were told that two more teams will be sent out to eliminate the vampires." Izzy explained. "But if it doesn't go well, then it's our turn." You looked at her frowning.

"If they fail, Maryse said we have to go. The five of us have to find a way to complete the mission. But they seem damn strong." Jace took over Izzy's words.

"Oh well, we just have to face them then. It's not like they are any different from other rouge Downworlders." You shrugged your shoulders.

"19." Jace started. "They have injured nineteen of our people. Six of them are already dead. The infirmary is basically full. They are so severely injured that even the Silent Brothers are having difficulties healing them. And if that wasn't enough, they were basically drained of their blood and left to dry out when we found them. All nineteen of them." I frowned at his explanation.

"They are just vampires though." You stated. You didn't mean to degrade vampires, but you have fought so many of them already that it didn't seem any special anymore.

"That's the problem, you see?" He looked straight at you as Maryse finished her monologue. "There is something about them." Jace frowned.

You were thinking hard about what you have just heard. You knew vampires very well, you had so many encounters with them. They were indeed very strong, but not as much to cause such a mess in the Institute and the City. Especially because it was usually demons that you had to fight with, not Downworlders. Although it has happened in many occasions already as they tend to lose control around anyone with blood. You felt like you were unable to think properly, so you decided to just go and grab something to eat. You were hungry, and when you were hungry, you couldn't use your brain as it was intended to.

You went to the cafeteria and took some carbonara which was on menu for the third time that week. You were getting bored of it, but a hungry stomach is definitely not a picky stomach. You just sat down and started stuffing your face without a care. You started looking around, reading people. You liked to do that. You loved to pay attention to other's body language. It was fascinating for you. You loved the fact that even without words, you could read how people connected to one another.

Like the guy who was sitting in front of you. You weren't sure who that was, but you were sure he was not interested in what the girl was saying as his head was falling backwards and his arms were crossed in front of his chest. However the girl, Libby, if you remembered well, was elbowing on the table, leaning towards the guy, almost getting lost in her own story. They were on such different emotional level, you just had to laugh.

You couldn't enjoy people's behaviour so long as your phone started vibrating. Alec's name flashed on the screen as you have received a message. You opened it excitedly, but as always, you had to get disappointed. There were only three words in it. "Hall at 10pm." You looked at your watch which showed 9.48pm. You decided to put your tray on the tray holder and head towards the hall. It didn't take you more than five minutes, but you had nothing better to do.

Of course you were not the first one. When Alec messaged, everyone jumped. You were actually the last one to arrive even though you had more than five minutes left. You walked next to the table which was surrounded by screens, and took your place on Alec's side.

"Missed us already, huh? Sweet." You teased but he just rolled his eyes and gave you a deadly look. You didn't take it seriously though. It was just like him. "Playing hard to get?" You continued while the others tried to hold back their laughters.

"Y/N..." He started in a warning tone. "I do not have the time for this right now." He hissed in annoyance. But you didn't just stop there. You knew better. Or not.

"You seem frustrated, darling." You stated innocently. "Let's talk about your problems." You smirked. You knew you were annoying him. That was the only way he ever gave you his attention, other than when you took care of each other on missions or when you needed help. He hissed in anger. You wanted to continue, but Jace elbowed into you. "What?" You looked up at him. He nodded towards Alec and when you looked that way, you also realised that you might not have chosen the best time. "Fine." You gave in. Alec didn't waste time though. He started his monologue.

"So, I asked you to come here to discuss how we want to go on about this mission." He opened some files on the screens for us to see. "Don't get me wrong, I do not think that the other two teams are any less powerful than us, but I want us to be prepared." It was just usual from him. Always in work mode. "As we know the attacks usually happen around central Brooklyn. If we go in teams first, and then individually canvass some of the areas, hopefully we can find them before they could find us." He zoomed in on some of the photos that have been take on the scenes." As you can see they don't just drink the blood and drain out mundanes, but they also attack them. It makes me think that it isn't just about the thirst for blood. The Shadowhunters who have been attacked have also said the same things." He has opened the reports taken from the missions. "They tortured them every single times. In conclusion, it could be revenge of some kind." Even without his explanation, you were thinking the same. It didn't just seem like normal vampire attacks. If that could even be normal. Alec was going on about which area to start, what time you would arrive there, what formations you should be using, how you would communicate while individually investigating. Alec had an idea for everything. He seemed like he has been studying the case for a while. That's one of the reasons that made you not understand why the Clave thought that the New York Institute was not under control. In your eyes, they were useless. People sitting around doing nothing, just giving orders. They don't even look at how well Shadowhunters and Institutes performing until there's an issue. It made you angry. You didn't hate the Clave, but you weren't happy with them either. "Is everything clear?" Alec asked, waking you up from you thoughts. Everyone nodded and decided to leave for their rooms as it was almost midnight already.

You looked back at Alec and was thinking of going up to him, to talk to him, to calm him down. Stress was clearly showing on his face. But you decided otherwise. You weren't the right person for this. He never thought you were one to rely on, other than in action. You turned around and walked back to your room.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

#alec #alec lightwood #aleclightwood #alec x reader #alec lightwood x reader #aleclightwood x reader #jace x clary #jace herondale #Clary Fairchild #Clary Fray #Cassandra Clare #Freeform #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #tmi #themortalinstruments #warlock #magnus bane #magnusbane #Izzy Lightwood #izzy #simon lewis #Jace Wayland #fanfiction #shadowhunters fanfiction

[moonlight-breeze-44]

sacrifice (i would have loved you all my life) ~ Chapter 2!

The second chapter of the angsty prompt fic for @thelightofthebane is now up! In this chapter, we see the reactions of those left behind to Alec’s disappearance. 

Warning for implied/referenced alcohol abuse in this chapter! <3

Read on AO3

It was the excruciating, damn near unbearable pain that woke Jace up.

Izzy and Maryse were in his room before he even knew what was happening, because Jace was screaming and everything hurt and nothing was okay and - Alec. ALEC! Where was Alec?

“We don’t know,” Izzy cried, and her makeup was smeared, her face streaked with tears. Maryse’s hair was undone, falling out of its bun, and she was crying, too. Jace could barely breathe through the pain emanating from his side, but he was coherent enough to notice that Alec wasn’t there.

“Alec!” he screamed again, and his fingers found his parabatai rune, squeezing tightly. The rune was hot underneath his fingertips, almost scalding, and Jace sobbed. Where was Alec?! ALEC!

“He’s not here, Jace,” Maryse said, her fingers combing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. “He’s gone.”

A pulse like, like something, shot through the parabatai bond and Jace’s entire body convulsed, shaking apart like he was having a seizure. He screamed so loudly that his throat was raw, and he gasped for breath, tears that he couldn’t even hope to control sliding down his cheeks without his permission. He was sobbing, loud and ugly, and all he could feel was pain, painpainpainpainpain, so much PAIN, and Alec wasn’t there, and everything was wrong and Jace could almost feel something ending, something changing, something disappearing for good.

By the time the wave of pain passed and Jace could breathe again, Maryse had run out of the room to get someone from the infirmary, and Izzy was holding onto his arms as tightly as she could, her eyes filled with tears.

“Jace?” she asked hesitantly, and Jace would swear he’d never heard her sound more vulnerable than right then.

“He’s gone,” Jace said numbly. His fingers groped at his skin, hoping, praying that maybe he was wrong, but one look downwards confirmed his fears. His parabatai rune was gone. Alec was gone.

~ ~ ~

Isabelle wasn’t sure how long it took them to get around to telling Magnus, but by the time she and Jace let themselves into Magnus’s apartment, Magnus was already halfway through his eighth bottle of whiskey and his loft was destroyed by his own magic.

“Magnus,” Izzy whispered in horror. “What happened?”

Magnus laughed sourly and gestured to the kitchen countertop, where a white envelope laid, a letter next to it. Izzy recognised Alec’s handwriting and swallowed hard. He’d sent Magnus a letter, too.

“Magnus, stop,” she tried, stepping over the debris to reach Magnus. Jace followed reluctantly, taking in the damage with wide eyes like he was afraid they would be next.

“Why should I?!” Magnus shouted, chucking his whiskey bottle at the wall. It shattered upon impact and alcohol seeped into the expensive carpet. “No Alec here to stop me, is there? No Alec here ever again, Isabelle!”

“The, the letter said he was okay,” Izzy responded, stopping in her tracks at the sight of Magnus’s tirade. “That he wasn’t dead.”

“You’d be surprised how many dead people say they’re okay right before they die,” Magnus snapped back, summoning another bottle of whiskey from somewhere and taking a long drink. He gestured to Jace. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Blondie’s parabatai rune disappeared?”

Jace tried to shove down his hypocritical anger at Magnus for lashing out and nodded tightly. “Yeah.”

“I figured as much,” Magnus mumbled. His mascara was smeared, Izzy noticed, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all since he’d received his letter. She felt tears begin to fill her own eyes, and she blinked them away angrily. This wasn’t about her. Alec had asked her to take care of Magnus and that’s what she intended on doing.

“Magnus, please,” Izzy said, stepping closer until she was directly in front of him. “Alec wouldn’t want this for you.”

“How do you have a clue what he wants? He’s not here,” Magnus replied bitterly. Before he could tip the whiskey bottle to his lips and take another drink, Isabelle reached out and grabbed the bottle from him, handing it to Jace, who shoved it underneath Magnus’s sink next to the cleaning supplies.

“I know my brother,” Izzy said, leveling Magnus with a fierce glare. “And I know that he would hate to see you destroying yourself like this.”

Magnus felt the fight drain out of him, and he slumped into the sofa tiredly. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay,” Izzy reassured him. “We’ve done plenty of yelling ourselves the past few days.” She picked her way through what remained of Magnus’s loft and made to sit down next to him.

“What did your letters say?” Magnus asked her bitterly, twisting a thread on his pants between his fingers, tension leaking out of his every movement.

“That he wasn’t dead, this was his choice, he loves us, and he’s sorry,” Izzy replied, her throat closing up on the last syllable.

“Lucky,” Magnus muttered.

“Lucky?” Jace’s voice was sharp. “How the fuck are any of us lucky, Magnus?”

“Your letters sound like nursery rhymes compared to mine,” Magnus snapped. He raised his hand and his letter flew to him in a flurry of dark red magic. He opened it, holding it out for the two siblings. “Here. Read it.”

Izzy gave Magnus a wary look, but reached out to take the letter, anyway. Jace crowded close to her and read over her shoulder as Magnus watched on, fiddling with his rings and trying not to cry for the umpteenth time since the letter had been delivered.

“What the fuck,” Jace breathed after a minute or two of reading, his eyes glassy with tears. “That’s, that’s fucking…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Exactly,” Magnus muttered. “It’s so full of self-loathing it might as well have been written by me when I was about to jump off of a bridge.”

“I knew he always felt different, and he had a lot of pressure on him,” Isabelle said quietly, “but I never imagined this.”

“That’s just the thing!” Magnus said, and his voice shot up two octaves. “I knew! I knew how Alec felt about himself! I always have. I knew that he would blame himself for me losing my magic, and I didn’t do anything! I was too self-centered and stupid and idiotic to see that my own boyfriend was about to sacrifice his own happiness for someone else’s again.”

“You didn’t know,” Izzy said softly. “None of us did.”

“I should’ve,” Magnus replied, and he sounded close to tears now. “I should’ve known, I should’ve done something, I should’ve, should’ve…” He broke off, choking on a sob.

“Shh,” Izzy said, and she moved closer until she could lay her hand on Magnus’s arm. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Magnus said, still crying. “And if you thought it was, you wouldn’t be here.”

Izzy glanced at Jace briefly, her eyes filled with tears, but he couldn’t reply; Magnus was right. It wasn’t okay, and as long as Alec was gone, nothing ever would be again.

#my writing #shadowhunters #malec #alec lightwood #angst #heavy angst #tw: alcholism #tw: alcohol #fanfiction #fic #fan fiction #my fanfiction #malec breakup #sh 3x18 #sh #em doesn't know how to tag #memory loss #ao3

[beclynn-herondale]

If you let me chapter 1

Céline was wandering around, thinking about a girl, she thought she would only ever love Stephen, but she knew he would never love her back like that, they had their son together and they were friends, but that is all they would ever be.

But there was someone else, Rosemary, when she first saw her she thou6she was beautiful, but she didn't know she was attracted to her, in fact Céline didn't know she liked girls like that at all, but whenever she thought of Rosemary, she blushed and her heart sped up, the last time her and Rosemary hung out, she wanted to play with her her and wondered what kissing her would feel like.

But again, Céline loved someone she couldn't have, Rosemary was married to a man named Johnny, he was abusive and an ass, Céline wanted to take Rosemary away but Rosemary had their baby 6 months ago, Jace was six now, Céline didn't know why but when she was looking for names she came across the name Jace and her and Stephen agreed to name him that, his middle name was after an ancestor, Jace William Herondale, her baby, Stephen had been killed in on a mission by Valentine, Céline knew it was him and it had broken her, Jace never knew his father but he left a letter, Céline had never opened it, she was waiting for Jace to be old enough, she only survived cause she caught on to what Valentine had been doing to Jace, and she kept it a secret, but she also knew Valentine wasn't really dead, and that sent chills down her spine.

But back to happier thoughts, It was nice to hold a baby again, Rosemary named her son Christopher and Céline loved the little baby boy, so did Jace, Céline would daydream about raising their boys together and being happy together, yeah she wasn't straight.

"Mangoes," Jace said

Céline looked over and saw someone was selling fresh mangoes, her Jace loved mangoes

"We'll get some, baby," she said

"Yay," he said, in his toddler voice that made Céline's heart feel so much love for him.

They got some, and went back home, she cut some up for Jace and he gladly ate them, and thanked her afterwards, also gave her a hug and a kiss, even tho she didn't have romantic love in her life she had all the love in this little boy that she would ever need.

______

Rosemary was lying awake, thinking about her again, lately she couldn't get Céline out of her head, she shouldn't be thinking about her like this, she was married, though she didn't love Johnny anymore, she thought she would love him forever but sometimes you fall out of love, right?

She remembered his reaction when she told him she was pregnant with Kit, he wasn't happy but he didn't get angry either, she didn't know what to think about his reaction, she hoped he loved their son, but she'd see Céline with him and she was so gentle and sweet and kind, and little Jace was too, and Rosemary thought, Johnny wasn't that way with Kit.

She felt tears fall down her face, she was so unhappy now, and she had to worry about the riders finding her, she met with Magnus Bane and he helped her with a spell that concealed her for a time but she had to have it recast on her ragularly, she didn't know how he had done but he did, she finally decided to listen to the Silent Brother who called himself Brother Zachariah, and he told her to see Magnus Bane, and somehow he did it, she could never repay him.

Johnny was out late in the Shadow Market , doing who knows what, and she wished Céline was here to lighten things, but Céline was in Paris and she was in Los Angeles, Céline would come visit from time to time, she said she wanted to let Jace experience travel a little, and she often came here for her job, she was a photographer and she was amazing and talented, Rosemary knew why people Hired her for photoshoots, Céline had left the Shadowhunter life and was now hiding in ways, she didn't keep it a secret and she said when Jace could understand she would tell him, because he would figure out anyway. but Rosemary wasn't sure if she should tell Kit when he grew up, but he would need to know so he would be safe.

______

Céline had put Jace to bed and decided to look at the mail, there was a letter from Maryse Lightwood, she had kept in touch with them, they weren't friends but she wanted to keep contact with someone, and Maryse did in a professional way, though she did notice Maryse would mention her kids from time to time now, Céline wished Jace could meet them, be around other kids more, he played with the downworld children here, but Céline had to be careful who he interacted with, he was so sweet and gentle with them, he didn't think any differently of them, and she thought if only we kept the thought process and innocence of kids, maybe we wouldn't be so cruel to Downworlders.

Maryse wrote in the letter that if Céline was interested she could come to the New York Institute for a while and their kids could meet, she would have to take up that offer and maybe invite Rosemary if she can get away from Johnny, but Rosemary probably wouldn't want to, Céline was still nervous around Robert Lightwood, and she knew people didn't look at her kindly, saying she stole Stephen from Amatis and that Jace shouldn't have been born, and if it were just her they were talking about she wouldn't care but not her baby, he is good, so so good.

She left in the night when she was 8 months pregnant, Valentine intended to kill her and she knew but she escaped and had hid herself well enough he didn't find her, she wondered what Imogen thought, she had never met her grandson but how could Céline face that woman, she would exile her and probably take Jace, she couldn't allow that.

She was exhausted mentally and emotionally

She also heard Jocelyn ran away, she wondered wherw she went, and even though she knows Jocelyn hates her, she hoped she was ok.

Céline decided to call it a night and get ready for bed, she checked in Jace one last time before she did, and climbed into her bed, letting sleep take her away.

-

She woke to the sound of Jace saying mommy, and opened her eyes

"Baby what's wrong?" She asked as she picked him up and put sat him on her bed

"I had a bad dream again," he said

"It's ok, by sweet boy," she said and rocked him in her arms

Jace often had dark dreams, she wasn't sure why but she did her best to comfort him when he did, and she would let him stay with her on the nights he had them, he snuggled up to her and went back to sleep, she also fell back to sleep with him in her arms, everything will be alright she told herself every night, he can find you she thought, he can't take Jace away from you. Maybe she should go to the New York Institute, maybe she would be safer there?

(hopefully you like, I had to do something, I am in love with this idea and wlw)

@khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko tagging you two 🙈

#celine montclaire #celine herondale #rosemary herondale #jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #kit herondale #christopher herondale #tsc #the shadowhuter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #tst #the secret treasons #dark aspects tw

[vaguelyrotten]

Like a Lily in a Flood

Title: Like a Lily in a Flood Artist: @myulalie Beta: @another-random-stranger​​ Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, mentions of Jimon and Reyhill Word Count: 70k Warnings: Mild Gore, Beheading, Nearly being eaten alive and burned at the stake, Discrimination, Sickness Summary:  Alec returns home to find his town plagued by a mysterious illness. Unable to find a cure, he ventures into the woods to seek help from an unlikely source. We must not look at goblin men... This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2021: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Chapter Nine

“Do you really think they’ll go hunting for those ingredients?” Jace asked a few hours later as their horses trotted steadily towards the entrance to Edom Forest.

“Well, I gave them direction, which is what they ultimately desire...and I plan on returning to the forest to collect what they’ve gathered once I have examined Alec again.” He’d sent the goblins on a search for the ingredients to make more of the healing paste. It wouldn’t wake those affected, but it would certainly help with the stiffness in their limbs when they finally awoke. Magnus was hoping to be prepared.

“I thought you said killing the king would break the spell.”

“Yes and no,” Magnus started with a sigh. “My father’s spell was the cause, but killing him was only part of the solution. Now that both parties involved in the spell are out of the way, hopefully I can get a better grasp on what the true cure will be. The magic of the contract will no longer cloud what I can see.” All in all, it made perfect sense. Magnus was just hoping that it was the truth.

“Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. We knew that before; based on the way that Alec talked about you but after these past two days...any doubt that I may have had is gone.” He was silent for a moment — the only sound was the horses’ hooves clopping across the hard ground. “You’re good for Alec. There was a time before he left that we thought we were going to lose him.”

Magnus felt a chill run through him. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Jace sighed and dropped his reins, letting Ghost follow Elias while he turned in the saddle to look Magnus in the eyes. “Robert and Maryse. They were hard on him. Harder than they ever were on the rest of us. They expected him to take over the family. Succeed where they couldn’t...There was a time there where he started to get cold and drift away. Honestly, getting accepted into Alicante University was the best thing that could have happened to him. He learned how to be Alec again.” Jace paused in thought, before turning to Magnus with a grin spread across his face. “Second best thing, that is. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“I know I’ve done a lot to help you all try to find a cure, but how can you say that?” Magnus asked quietly. “I barely know Alec.” Despite Magnus’ personal feelings about Alec, it was true that they had only actually met a handful of times.

“That doesn’t matter,” Jace replied happily. “Some people just fit, you know? Like me and my Simon - he’s a musician back in Idris. I knew that first time that we met that we were meant for each other. That’s what you and Alec are like. Sometimes he has a hard time talking about his feelings, but Izzy and I can tell.”

Magnus chose not to reply, instead mulling over Jace’s words in his head. He knew that he and Alec fit together like pieces of a puzzle. He’d known that since he’d first laid eyes on him. A man who had snuck past his wards and made Magnus’ magic buzz in a way that he’d never felt in the hundreds of years that he had been alive. He didn’t want to say soul mates, not out loud, at least, but what other answer could there be?

It was nearly dark by the time the horses passed through the treeline and plodded down the cobblestone road towards the Lightwood estate. Isabelle was waiting outside for them when they arrived, looking every bit the anxious sister waiting for word of their success or failure. “Oh, thank the Angel!” She explained, bounding over to Jace and pulling her brother into a tight hug before turning to do the same for Magnus. “I didn’t know how long it would take, but when you didn’t return last night I started to fear for the worst. Were you successful? Is the spell lifted?”

“We were successful,” Magnus started, his body tense and unused to hugs. “My father is dead. We can begin to truly look for a cure now. His magic would muddle what my magic is trying to tell me.”

“Not to mention Magnus sort of became king.” Jace added, jumping off Ghost’s back and beginning to loosen the mare’s girth.

“Sort of?” Isabelle asked, her eyes wide, with disbelief written in every line of her face.

“Yes.” Magnus answered, still a tad uncomfortable with the very prospect of that. “There is also that, but we can dwell on kingship later. Let us take another look at Alec and see what we can figure out now that my father’s spell is broken.”

He followed Isabelle into the house and up the stairs to the room that he was now starting to recognize as Alec’s, leaving Jace outside to finish taking care of his mare.

“Has there been any change?”

Isabelle shook her head. “He still hasn’t woken, but the paste has pretty much removed the stonelike texture in his skin. He looks less ill now; if only we could wake him.”

Magnus stepped closer and ran the back of his hand gently across Alec’s cheek. If he hadn’t known the full story, he would have guessed the man was simply sleeping...except that he was far too still.

He let a wave of familiar blue spill from his fingers and he closed his eyes, focusing on what his magic was telling him.

The wrongness that he associated with his father’s magic was gone. There wasn’t a trace lingering anywhere in Alec’s body. It was almost like Alec was now frozen in time, just waiting for his body to get a restart.

There had to be something that Magnus could try. Some sort of magical cure-all that he could try now that his father’s spell wasn’t interfering. Maybe a combination of magical plants that they hadn’t tried, maybe he could infuse them with a little bit of his own magic…

His mind grinded to a halt quickly as a realization struck him.

A magic amulet that had been made to help a human woman through a tough pregnancy so many years ago — one that he and Alec both had a connection to. A magic amulet that had recently come into his possession that had helped cure a dear friend from a curse…

He reached into his jacket pocket with a slight tremor in his hands. There was a very, very slim chance of this actually working, he knew that. It was too easy, but it was worth a shot. He’d try anything if there could be even the smallest chance it would bring Alec back to him.

He laid the amulet and Alec’s chest and took a deep breath before he crossed his hands and placed them over the figure of the serpent. He gave Isabelle a small smile before closing his eyes and letting himself get lost in the deep well that was old sentient magic.

When he’d done this to heal Raphael, he’d nearly lost himself amidst the swirling void. Had it not been for Ragnor and Catarina’s grounding presence, he wasn’t sure if he ever would have found his way out. He didn’t have that now but he had Alec’s sister and brother and Alec himself counting on him. That would have to be enough.

He felt the questioning presence of the magic inside the amulet. What was he doing here again so soon? What more could he want?

Please, he begged it, please help him. Please help all of them. Innocent people don’t deserve to suffer because of the greed of a few.

The magic swirled around him in the void. He felt how it judged him and considered his request and he could only pray that it would accept. He’d told Alec that old magic artifacts tended to have a mind of their own and that was very much the case with this amulet. Please, I can’t lose him when I’ve only just found him.

There was a flash of coldness that made Magnus jump before the void around him filled with a pulsing warmth.

He let out a sigh of relief. That was both permission and acceptance.

Magnus poured what little magic he had recovered into the amulet and let the ancient magic do the rest.

He opened his eyes as Alec took a deep, gasping breath. Fond blue eyes met his and Magnus let out a sob. “Alexander.” He twisted his fingers gently in the man’s dark hair as his sister dove across the bed to pull him into a hug, tears welling up in her eyes.

Magnus snapped his fingers, ignoring the pain of his drained magic, and summoned a glass of water. He held it up to Alec’s lips and helped him take a few small sips.

“You did it,” Alec croaked, his voice scratchy and quiet from the illness. “You figured out a cure.”

“We figured out a cure,” Magnus replied with a smile. “You and me, your siblings… it takes a village to cure a village, I suppose.”

Alec tried to push himself into a sitting position and frowned as his limbs wouldn’t seem to work. “Hey,” Magnus said sternly, sliding his arm around Alec and helping him sit up. “You need to take it easy, Alec. You just woke up. Your body still needs to heal. It will take some time before your limbs feel up to moving.”

Jace walked into the room and froze in the doorway as he saw Alec awake and sitting up. “Alec! It worked!” He practically dove across the bed much like Isabelle had moments before and pushed her out of the way so that he could get to Alec.

“I hear you had a hand in that,” Alec whispered, his voice still rough and quiet.

“Magnus and I killed his father. Your boy is king now.”

Magnus winced as Alec turned to him with wide eyes. “King?”

“It’s a long story, my love, I’ll leave you to catch up with your siblings.” The sadness that flashed across Alec’s face didn’t escape him and Magnus removed his hand from Alec’s hair to turn his head gently and place a soft kiss on the man’s forehead. “None of that, I’ll be back shortly. I’ve got my father’s people, my people, looking for more of the ingredients for the salve so that we can make enough to begin to heal the rest of Idris. I just need to meet up with them and gather what they’ve collected. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He left Alec to the care of his siblings and made his way down the stairs and out the front door. Elias had long since left to return to wherever he went when he wasn’t with Magnus. The kelpie had given more time than he’d needed to a problem that had nothing to do with him because he and Magnus were close. Once this was all over, Magnus felt he owed him some sort of feast.

He knew that he could likely borrow Flame, Alec certainly wouldn’t care, but he figured that the short walk down the path to the edge of Edom Forest would do wonders to calm his nerves. He’d barely made it around the bend before a shadow passed behind him and he frowned, turning to see who had come up behind him. Something iron struck him across the head and Magnus had just enough time to process that his skin felt like it was burning before he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

----------

When he woke, it was to the morning sun shining brightly in his eyes. He groaned, throwing an arm over his face to block the light as he tried to think past the relentless headache pounding in his head. There was hard ground under his back, and he cursed himself for not finding a more comfortable place to sleep the night before. He tried to magic his throbbing headache away and swore when it didn’t instantly disappear.

Wait.

He shot up, looking around as the events from the previous night came rushing back to him. He’d cured Alec and gone to meet up with the goblins in the woods to get more ingredients to make the salve so that he could start curing the rest of the people of Idris. He’d never made it to the woods...he’d been attacked from behind.

He found himself in a cage. It was too small for him to move around much or stand up, and the bars were made of a heavy iron. It was the metal which prevented his magic use, which meant that he was as trapped as any normal human would have been. He grabbed a bar and gave it a tentative tug, wincing and recoiling as his skin burned from the touch.

“You won’t get out that way, creature. If those bars can hold an angry bear, they can certainly contain a skinny little whelp.” The woman who spoke was older than Alec and his siblings, with a stern face and harsh eyes. She was dressed in a neat black dress and plain shoes. Magnus rubbed the heaviness out of his eyes trying to get his vision to clear. “Frankly, I would have just dispatched you right then and there instead of bringing you back here. After what you did, you don’t deserve a trial.”

“What?” Magnus asked before he had a chance to stop the words from falling from his mouth. “What am I supposed to have done? I did nothing to deserve this.”

She scoffed, stepping a few feet closer with a disgusted look on her face. “Please. You know exactly what we’re talking about, you vile creature. You’re the one responsible for the stone sickness — what else could it be but disgusting magic?”

“What? I’m not the one responsible! What proof do you even have?”

“Other than the fact that you were seen around the Lightwood’s shortly after their eldest succumbed to the disease as well? How much longer before Maryse loses her other children?”

“I was leaving the Lightwoods because I’ve been trying to help them find a cure and we did. I healed Alexander last night!” He knew that protesting was a lost cause. He could see that she didn’t want to listen — didn’t want to believe him — but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight; not with Alec waiting for his return.

She snorted and shook her head in disbelief. “And why should we believe that? We’ve got stories about the horrible things that your people have done. Why would you help one of us?”

“Because I love Alec,” he started quietly, raising his voice ever so slightly before he continued. “And because innocent people don’t deserve to suffer. The stone sickness was caused by a pact between Valentine and the goblin king. The spell binding them together has been broken. I know how to heal the rest of your village. Please. Give me a chance.”

A raindrop hit Magnus’ face and the woman glanced towards the center of town where a large pyre was being built before turning her attention back to Magnus and giving him one last look. “Your execution will be held as soon as the weather clears. We can’t very well have a fire in the middle of a rainstorm.” She turned and walked back towards a large building at the end of the lane, her heels clicking against the cobblestones and echoing in the nearly empty town.

The pit of Magnus’ stomach dropped as he focused on the growing pile of logs in the center of the square. His heart started pounding as he watched two men haul another log over and add it to the pile.

Not this. Anything but this.

Magnus had been both too young and too traumatized to remember much from the day his mother died, but there are flashes from that time that occasionally haunt his nightmares. He remembered that they’d once lived in a cabin on the edge of the woods — halfway between his father’s camp in Edom Forest and the town of Idris where his mother was from.

His father did love his mother, in that weird way that only Asmodeus could, but the people of Idris showed no such love. Once Magnus had been born with his cat eyes and a shower of magic around him, she’d been forced out of town and had taken refuge in the rundown and abandoned house. While they wanted nothing to do with her or her monstrous child, she brought them exotic fruits that had long since been forgotten from deep in the goblin territory in Idris. They tolerated her occasional presence as long as she continued to provide them with the forbidden treats.

As Magnus grew, he spent most of his time playing in the woods either by himself or with others like him. He would accompany his mother into town on the rare occasion, but the humans would keep their children far away from him. He’d been too young to truly understand why at the time.

He still didn’t know why his mother and father had fallen out. He could remember his father screaming, the goblin king’s magic nearly suffocating him. It had been so heavy in the air, and he remembered his mother crying and begging. He remembered his father turning and walking away.

His mother sat there and cried for what felt like ages to his younger self. When the tears finally stopped, she gathered him up and took them home. Magnus had a vague sense that a few days passed before there was a knock on the door and his mother froze. He would never forget the look of terror that flashed quickly across her face. She’d instructed him to hide under the bed and to not make a sound. No matter what he saw or heard he was not to come out.

He’d done as she asked, hiding under their bed as far back as he could, and he watched as his mother answered the door and discussed something quietly with two of the mean-looking men from town. After that, everything had happened nearly too fast for young Magnus to follow. The two men grabbed his mother and dragged her from the house as she screamed and cried and begged them to let her go.

The door had thumped close behind them and the house had gone silent. He had done as she had asked, hiding under the bed until night fell and their little cottage began getting unnaturally dark before he had dared crawl out from his hiding place. He remembered calling out for his mother knowing that she wasn’t there.

He hadn’t known what to do. He had never been without his mother. Was she coming back? Was he supposed to wait for her?

He eventually grew tired of waiting and snuck out the front door, following the path into town that he and his mother had taken so many times before. He remembered seeing a large crowd gathered in the center of town — unusual as Idris had seemed nearly deserted any time they’d visited before — and their attention was focused on something tall and bright in the middle of the square.

He didn’t think he could get closer. There were far too many grown-ups in the way so Magnus had scaled the closed tree and had scrambled to the top for a closer look. From the top of the tree he could see it was a giant bonfire, bigger even than the one his father liked to dance around. And in the middle, tied to a post…

...was his mother.

Her skin was burnt and charred and looked like it was melting. She was screaming in pain, a sound Magnus hadn’t heard her make before. He still remembered the bright red of the dress she had on as it was consumed by the flame.

He had bolted out of the tree and into the woods towards his father’s camp.

He’d hold that image in his mind for the rest of his immortal life. It was his first lesson on the cruelty of humans.

Magnus, somewhere in his heart, had known it would come to this. If he didn’t meet his death at the hands of his father’s people, he was going to go the way some of the other half breeds had — stoned, burned, or drowned by the people of Idris.

And of course, of course, it was raining - because truly, it seemed like it was always raining in Idris. For once in his life, however, he could be grateful that he was soaking wet. The non-stop storms over the past few days were the only thing keeping them from tying him to the post they’d constructed in the center of town and lighting the pyre.

The past few days had been trying and Magnus just wanted it to be over. The people of Idris had mocked and shunned him. A few had looked at him in pity though they were few and far between. The iron in the bars that surrounded him was starting to hurt. His skin ached, his body ached, his magic wept.

He sighed, and pulled his knees up to his chest, relieved at least that they’d let him keep his clothes, even if they weren’t doing much to keep him warm and dry at the moment. The cage they’d pushed him in was uncomfortable enough. He didn’t need to add embarrassment to the list of problems he currently had.

A voice from behind him coughed politely, and he turned his head towards the sound out of instinct, only catching himself afterwards and wondering if that had been a good idea. “Excuse me — Magnus is it? Is it true you cured Alec Lightwood?” The man was young, about Alec’s age if Magnus had to guess, and blond. He was standing in the open doorway of the building closest to Magnus’ cage. A quick glance up at the sign told him that it was a bakery.

Magnus nodded, but turned his head back to glance at the looming pyre. “Yes, not that they’d believe me. It would be easy enough for them just to go to the Lightwood manor and check but that doesn’t matter. They have no leniency towards monsters.”

“Could you do it with the others who have fallen ill? Could you heal them too?”

“I did it once. I could do it again… unfortunately, I won’t get the chance. After I die, I doubt any of the others like me will be willing to risk their lives to help.”’

“But you could do it? If we could stop your execution?” The man asked, still leaning in the doorway of the bakery to keep out of the rain. The smell wafting out of the building made Magnus’ stomach rumble. When was the last time he’d eaten anything? It had been three days since he’d been in this stupid cage. He’d absolutely kill for some food right now.

He nodded, drawing his knees closer as he fought back a shiver from a gust of wind. “That was the plan,” he muttered as he buried his head in his arms. “Alec was just the test subject. If it worked for him, we were going to take it to everyone. Who do you know who fell ill?”

“My sister.”

“I hope you can find someone else to help her then.” There was no response to that and Magnus realized the man must have gone back inside. He shivered again as he bit back a sob.

He needed a miracle. Unfortunately, there were no miracles for people like him.

#shmb2021 #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic #like a lily in a flood