#also he literally helped one of said blackthorns try to bring another one back to life

[lxdyblackthorn]

honestly if i was tessa i'd be looking into kit's girlfriend as well

because back in 1903 when she wasn't paying attention one of her kids was emotionally manipulated for three years and the other one dated a ghost and brought him back to life

so considering kit's magical faerie powers and his closeness to the blackthorns... i'd be worried

#also he literally helped one of said blackthorns try to bring another one back to life #she doesn't know that but like #more reasons to be worried #sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #kit herondale #tessa gray #james herondale #lucie herondale #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunters chronicles

[imherongraystairstrash]

Can you write prompt 32 or 65 for luciexjesse??

Ahh, I love Jesse and Luciee!! I tried really hard to do them justice in this fic, but I also wanted to write about Lucie’s new internal conflicts now that she’s separated from her family. I also thought I might as well use both prompts because I’m horrible at making decisions. Hope you enjoy!:

Prompts: “I’d rather be here” &  “I was worried about you”

Ship: Lucie x Jesse

The thing about dreams is that they’re conjurings of the uncontrolled mind. Dreams are free and abide by no laws. They take strange forms, shifting and molding into things that can be beautiful or harrowing, lovely or tragic. They can be both based on fiction or reality; there are no limits when the mind is liberated to conjure as it desires. Lucie’s dreams have always been occult, abstract in the way one might describe a meticulous painting in a gallery hall. She usually got ideas for her novels from her dreams, as their strangeness is perfect inspiration. It was like a wooden table: the idea was there, all she had to do was sand it down, paint and varnish it. 

Now, however, her dreams have taken a different form. Cruel, malicious, utterly wicked. Her dreams are whispers of her family, memories, corrupted by an unknown source of evil. Her father carried her on his shoulders, her mother kissed her feet when she was a baby, her brother held her hand as they walked barefoot through the mossy floor of the Brocelind forest, to go to their cousins’ houses. 

But they were tainted with shadows. Will would suddenly let go of her and let her tumble to the floor, not caring if she was harmed. Tessa would look down at her in disappointment and walk away. James would tear his arm from her’s and run, trying to get away. She would run after him, but her legs wouldn’t let her. She’d reach Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel’s house only to have them slam the door in her face and shut the curtains. She'd run.

Away from her family that despised her so. She ran through time until, suddenly, she was thirteen. She was running in a meadow with Cordelia. Her dark red hair was like a proud, silk banner as it flew in the wind. Her strides were long and her brown skin glowed under the sunlight. She turned to Lucie and her face filled with pain. 

“Why didn't you tell me? We were supposed to be sisters and parabatai.”

“We are, Daisy.” Lucie said through tears. “We are sisters.”

Cordelia shook her head, she began disappearing. “We used to be.”

Lucie screamed Cordelia’s name, but her glorious presence winked away in the blink of an eye. 

She saw Thomas and Christopher in the distance, but they couldn’t see her. They were talking about her, about what horrible thing she’d done. 

Lucie clasped her hands over her ears, willing their voices away until she was a shadow, without life or power.

She heard a song being sung by a soft, deep voice. She opened her eyes and saw a boy with sea green eyes and curling brown hair. He tucked a smaller boy who shared his same features into bed and kissed his cheek. She watched in wonder as he turned off the lights of other rooms, saying a final goodnight to three other children, all of which—minus another boy—shared a similar appearance to him. As he walked down the hall, Lucie followed, wondering where his parents were. He went into what she assumed was his room and closed the door. Lucie watched him stand there, staring at where his hands were, bracing against the wood. She watched him slowly turn and press his back to the door and slide down until he was sitting on the ground. And then, he began to choke on dry tears. 

Lucie was taken aback. She looked at the young boy and wanted to do something. To help him. He was so lonely. She put her hand in his hair and he looked up quickly, in surprise. 

Lucie wanted to kneel down next to the boy and tell him it was alright and that she would help him, but she was torn away from him. She cried out, not knowing why her heart cracked at the prospect of leaving this familiar looking boy alone. The pain was so great she slipped out of her unconscious state.

Lucie felt her eyes flutter open, light bursting across her vision, blinding her and causing her to close them again. She reached for her other senses. She could hear the sea birds squawking and waves crashing against each other and the sand. She felt the sunlight warm her right arm and the soft material of bedding under her. She smelled the salt in the air, that is found only by the seaside. She tasted nothing though. 

Finally she began opening her eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the light. She saw a pattern on the ceiling, of the beams that held the roof up. The walls were cream colored and the house (or cottage?, Lucie wasn’t quite sure.)

Her line of vision began descending down the walls and she noticed the house must be rounded and small. She saw a boy, bent over in worry, his hands pushing his crow, black hair back, eyes closed and elbows rested on the bed. His eyebrows were furrowed and he had bluish bags under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept well in a long time. 

Lucie couldn’t help but admire how he was solid. She could almost reach out a touch the back of his neck—

His head shot up, and his vibrant green eyes danced as he saw her.

“Lucie,” Jesse said, coming close and leaning over her. There was relief written all over his face and his hands were soft and calloused as they brushed her hair away from her face. “I was worried about you.” 

“I’m alright, Jesse.” Lucie said, her voice soft and raspy from disuse.

He kissed her forehead and murmured her name over and over. Lucie closed her eyes and breathed in his scent and basked in his presence. 

She’d done it. Her Jesse was no longer a phantom, a whisper of life. He was living and breathing and he was healthy. He wasn’t disappearing, not anymore. 

“Jesse,” She gasped, pressing her lips to his neck and feeling the pulse of his heart on them. “Jesse, I can’t believe you’re alive.”

He pulled back and looked into her face. He was so beautiful, she’d forgotten how beautiful he was until she saw him again. Her dreams, her imagination, paled to how he was in real life. The way his eyes softened and his shoulders seemed to lean in her direction, like he wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time. Yes, she had shamefully omitted those things from her memory. But now, she could see them, now they were here for her to adore and love.

“I can’t believe you’re awake,” he replied.

Lucie felt her breath shudder. “Where are we?”

“Cornwall. We’re in Malcolm’s cottage.” Jesse said.

Lucie felt her eyebrows scrunch involuntarily.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” Jesse said quickly, despair clear in his voice. “You want to go back to London with everybody else, which makes complete sense. Of course you’d rather—”

“Jesse.” Lucie said, “I’d rather be with you.”

Jesse looked at her, confused which, Lucie couldn’t help but notice, was very adorable.

“Of course, I want to be with my family, but I want you to be with me. I don’t want to go back if you’re not there beside me.”

“Lucie, you don’t have to say that to spare my feelings. I understand why you’d want to go back—”

“Are you joking, Jesse Blackthorn?” 

“What?” 

“I literally raised you from the dead because I couldn’t stand the thought of not being with you, of you living a half life while I lived a full one. I did that because I love you! How could you imagine that I’d just abandon you after all of this?”

“If I come back to London, the entire enclave will know that you performed necromancy to bring me back to life and you’ll be imprisoned and I executed. And this time, we won’t come back from death. You could have a better life than this, Lucie.”

“A better life? How is that any better than being dead? I’ll be miserable and I’ll have to lie to everyone I know about what I did. And live with my parents until I die, because I know that I could never love anyone else if it’s not you.” Lucie felt drops of water on her skin and realized tears rolling down her face. “I love you, Jesse! How many times do I have to tell you that before you start believing it?”

Jesse reached out to brush her tears away. “I love you too, Lucie.” His voice thick, as though he were holding back his own tears. 

“Then let us stay together, forever. No matter who tries to come between us, we remain by each other’s side. Because I can be scorned at and thrown into prison, and I will be happy, as long as you are by my side.”

Jesse leaned in and they shared the sweetest of kisses. Lucie felt something she’d never felt before; the start of a new beginning. A story where she’ll be the protagonist and not the narrator. Yes, this would be a fine adventure, even if it’ll be difficult.

...

Tagging: 

@celias @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @will-effing-herondale @cordelia-cardale 

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#coi spoilers #tsc #tsc fanfiction #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #will herondale #jesse x lucie #ghost!writer #tlh fanfiction #coi fanfiction #julian blackthorn #yes I couldn't resist making a jucie fanfic and not having him there #herondales #thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #chain of gold #chain of iron

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!” 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't…"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

#mine #Gloxinia #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky reader insert #Bucky Barnes imagine #Marvel #Marvel fanfiction

[propsandmayhems]

Can you use the prompt “Can I kiss you?” with your favorite ship?

omg literally thank you sm anon because this was so much fun to write!! i got this ask and immediately started writing!!! i did blackdale which is not my fav ship ever but i just was so inspired so i hope u like 

i also posted on ao3 since it ended up being so long 

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn 

Lucie Herondale should be happy. 

For the first time in over a year, everything was going well. They had defeated Belial and Tatiana. Her brother and her parabatai were happily married. Matthew had quit drinking and was beginning to heal. She and Grace had successfully returned Jesse back to life and convinced the Clave it was done by Belial, not by their own involvement in black magic. She still had her family, her friends, her Marks, and was learning more about her powers with the help of her Uncle Jem. 

Yet there was still something missing. 

Upon his return to life, the Clave - in an uncharacteristic act of generosity - had given Chiswick House to Jesse. For the past three months, he had holed himself up in the great stone pile, working to attempt to return the grand house to its former glory. 

The first month after she and Grace brought Jesse back, Bridget had begrudgingly driven Lucie out to Chiswick House every day. She would bring all sorts of offerings - new books; freshly baked jam tarts; perfectly sharpened daggers and even a brand new sword, the blade stamped with a ring of thorns that matched the pattern on his locket, which she had ordered in from Idris. Jesse would always meet her at the front door, attempt to refuse the gift, finally accept and then bid her goodbye. That first month, he never once invited her in. 

But Lucie Herondale was nothing if not persistent. 

The second month, he continued his work on Chiswick House. One day, the carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a newly installed wrought-iron gate. “Well, this is new,” Lucie heard Bridget drawl from the driver’s seat. Hopping down from the carriage, Lucie took in the new gate, black metal soaring up into the gray London sky. On the very top of the gate, curving bars formed the words ‘Blackthorn Hall.’

“I’ll walk up from here, Bridget,” Lucie called over, while quickly scribbling an open rune on the metal. Slipping through the gate, she made her way up the stone drive, her boots lightly crunching the rock under her foot. 

Looking around, Lucie could tell that Jesse had already made wonderful progress with the house. The front lawn was manicured and free of the overgrown weeds that had overtaken the hedges along the drive. Despite it being a dreary day, the white stone facade of the house even seemed to shine brighter. 

Lucie had made it to the door and before she could take the knocker in her hand, it swung open. Jesse stood on the threshold, black hair tumbling in front of his eyes. He was in shirtsleeves, as he nearly always was when Lucie visited. Lucie couldn't bring herself to be scandalized, since she had grown so used to seeing him in shirtsleeves in his ghostly form. He wore no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing the entire curve of his throat and his un-Marked skin. “I was in the study and I saw you walking up the drive…” he began, and then wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Where’s your carriage?”

“At the front gate. Bridget and I stopped to admire the new gate you installed. ‘Blackthorn Hall?’” She asked, to which a blush rose up on his cheeks. It still startled her to see him with colour on his face. 

With a small smile, he nodded, “yes. Do you like it?” 

“I do,” she grinned and then held up the basket she had carried up. “I brought you scones.”

“Oh,” he said, flatly. Lucie’s smile fell, and he hurriedly added, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a scone.” 

“You’ve never had a scone?” She exclaimed. “How can you even consider yourself an Englishman?” 

He laughed - a beautiful, sonorous laugh - and then looked at her for a moment. “Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally asked. 

“I would love that,” she smiled. Jesse stepped aside to let her and the scones into the house, closing the door behind her. 

Jesse led her through the foyer and up the staircase, then down a hall and into a drawing room. Although the wallpaper and decor in the room were dated, the wood of the furniture was polished to a shine, and the dust that had previously coated the walls had been cleaned away. A fire was roaring in the hearth, battling away the dampness of the cool, November day. Above the mantle, the sword she had brought Jesse was balanced on two pegs. 

“Oh,” she breathed when her eyes caught the blade. Noticing what she was looking at, a flush traveled up his exposed neck and settled on his cheeks. “I am so glad that you like it.”

“I-” he began and abruptly stopped, his face morphing into an expression she was unable to identify. “Maybe you should go,” he said suddenly. Lucie’s face scrunched up in confusion as he stepped back from her. “If anyone found out you were here, just the two of us… you would be ruined.”

Lucie huffed. “Not like there are hordes of men knocking down the doors of the Institute asking for my hand in marriage anyways, Jesse.” 

Watching his shoes intently, he took another step backward. “Please, Lucie, just go.” 

“Fine,” she replied sharply, dropping the basket of scones on the conversation table on her way out. 

After that, Lucie did not return to Blackthorn Hall. She hadn’t heard from Jesse in nearly two months. Now, Lucie watched from across the ballroom as her parents greeted the families arriving for the annual Christmas ball. Faces seemed to blur by her - the Wentworths, the Townsends, the Pouncebys. 

Then Jesse Blackthorn walked through the ballroom doors. Lucie was convinced her heart truly stopped beating. He was dressed immaculately; all his clothes were obviously new and flawlessly tailored. His dancing oxfords were unscuffed and the black of his tailcoat was balanced by the crisp white of his waistcoat. He was a perfect picture in black and white, the only color in the entire image being the green of his eyes - which were fixed on Lucie.

When their eyes met, Lucie’s heart restarted at triple-time. All but ignoring her parents’ greetings, he moved across the room to Lucie with purpose. Too fast and not soon enough, he was standing close enough for her to reach out and touch him. But the memory of the way he had told her to leave flickered in the back of her mind. “What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms across the red bodice of her gown. 

“Well, the entire Enclave is invited to the Christmas ball, and I am a member of the Enclave.” He pointed out, to which Lucie rolled her eyes. He took a small step closer to her and continued, “is there a place we can talk, privately?”

Lucie looked around. Many were watching them, as Jesse wasn’t exactly covert in making his way over to her. A small voice in her brain was screaming no, you will be absolutely ruined! You will never be married as is, you are only making it harder for yourself! But her heart was thumping out the sound of Jesse’s name. She nodded, “yes. Follow me.” 

With a relieved smile, Jesse followed her down the same hall that led to the games room and into one of the lesser-used withdrawing rooms. A fire had not yet been started in the room and the air was frigid, causing goosebumps to rise up on Lucie’s arms. After closing the door, Jesse turned to face her. In the witchlight that illuminated the room, the green of his eyes was the same colour as the canopy of trees in Brocelind Forest. “I’m sorry,” he started, moving closer to her. “I am truly sorry for the way I acted these past few months, and especially the last time you came to visit me. May I be frank with you, Miss Herondale?” 

Lucie swallowed and nodded, unable to form words. 

He took another small step closer to her. “You have permeated every inch of my mind. I see the colour of your eyes in the sky and the curl of your hair in the branches of trees. I hear your voice narrating the books I read. When I try a new food, I find myself wondering if you like it. When I manage to sleep, I dream of you. That first month… every day you came to my door and it was all I could do to not gather you in my arms, to feel your warmth. You risked everything for me - you could’ve had your marks stripped! I am not worth what you could’ve lost.” 

She stared up to him, blue eyes wide. “I knew exactly what could’ve happened to me and I chose to take the risk. Because I care about you. I care for you in a way I have never cared for anyone else.” Gathering her red skirts, she moved towards him. “I, of course, would have done the same thing for my family or my parabatai; but I feel for you in a different kind of way. I can’t explain it, but some part of me just longed to have you beside me - to be able to reach out and touch you.” Tentatively, Lucie extended her arm across what little space was left between them. Laying her hand gently over his shirt-clad chest, she felt his newfound warmth for the first time. She remembered how cold he had been when he had been a ghost. But now, the heat from his skin radiated from under his shirt, warming the chill from her skin in the frosty room. “Is this okay?” She asked, and he nodded slowly. 

“Lucie…” He began, searching her blue eyes with his own green pair. “I just fear I will never be what you deserve. I am not a man with any sort of honor. I live in a house tainted by years of demonic activity. I cannot even bear marks like a real Shadowhunter.” 

“It is not up to you to decide what I deserve,” she said. She meant to sound menacing, but her voice came out as barely above a whisper. Unblinking, Jesse reached up and caressed her cheek. 

The heat from his hand on her cheekbone sent sparks of fire all the way down to her toes. Lucie let her eyes flutter close and leaned further into his touch. He was warm, so so warm, almost burning hot. She quickly forgot the lack of fire in the room. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, thumb drifting over her lips.

“Yes,” she breathed, and in an instant, she was gathered up in his arms. The hand that had been resting on her cheek moved to cup her neck, sending jolts of lightning down her spine. Jesse partially bent down and partially pulled her up to him, connecting their lips. Lucie’s mind whirred with the softness of Jesse’s lips on hers, his hand on her neck, his other hand grasping at the silk bodice of her dress. I can finally write the perfect kissing scene! She thought with joy, then realized, wait… am I supposed to be doing something? 

Slowly, she lifted her arms up around Jesse’s neck, coming to rest at the edge of the collar of his tailcoat. Wisps of his black hair brushed against her fingers. She turned her head slightly, allowing herself better access to move her lips gently against Jesse’s without clacking their teeth together. 

Raising herself further on her tip-toes, she brought herself closer to Jesse. His hand at her waist encircled her tighter, bringing her body flush against his. Every one of her nerves was alight with the feeling of him surrounding her. His scent, his warmth, his taste. Lucie had never even considered that you would taste the person you were kissing! She had never liked the flavor of mint tea before, but she loved the way it tasted on Jesse’s lips. 

Unexpectedly, Jesse removed his lips from hers. Dipping his head down, he laid kisses along her exposed collarbone. “You are my shining light,” she felt him murmur against her skin, his breath hot and his body alive. 

She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought if she tried hard enough, maybe she could just melt into his touch and completely lose herself in the warmth of his embrace. 

A quick rap at the door of the withdrawing room caused them to spring apart from each other. “Lulu?” her father’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you in here?” 

 She looked to Jesse in panic and then quickly remembered that Jesse was very much visible to everyone now. However, if Will walked in and saw the state they were in, Jesse was very likely to return to his previous ghostly mode of being. “Yes, I’m here! I just came in to… fix my shoe.” 

“Cariad…” He sighed, and she could picture her father pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you come back here with Jesse Blackthorn.” 

“Jesse Blackthorn? I led him to the games room, you could see if he is there if you need him.” 

The door handle jiggled. “Open this door or I will.” 

Lucie looked to Jesse with a sheepish smile. He had an unreadable look on his face as he reached out to gently stroke her cheek before turning and moving towards the door. Lucie watched him brace himself as he pulled the door open, expecting to face the pure fury of William Herondale. 

Instead, her father was grinning from ear to ear, with Tessa by his side. “See, Tess, I told you! She was not visiting Chiswick House every day just to ‘lend the support of the London Institute.’”

“Papa!” Lucie threw her hands up. Jesse looked as if he was about to faint. 

Tessa rolled her eyes and waived off her husband. “Yes, yes. I always thought it would be Matthew, but you were right, as always.” 

Lucie gaped at her parents. “Were you two betting on who I would marry?”

  “Yes,” Will shrugged nonchalantly. Tessa nodded in agreement

Taking her husband by the arm, Tessa began to drag Will back towards the main ballroom. “Come along then, dear. I left Gabriel in charge of greeting the guests.” 

Will looked at his wife, completely dismayed, and then the two dashed down the hall and back towards the ballroom. 

Jesse turned to her, still frightfully pale. “Marry?”

Her mouth went dry. “I… I didn’t mean - I don’t expect -” she stammered, fidgeting under his green gaze. 

 Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “It would be my absolute honor.”

#blackdale #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #wessa #will herondale #tessa gray #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #the last hours #tlh #carley writes

[blurrypetals]

Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare - blurrypetals review

originally posted dec. 9, 2018 - ★★★★★

A-T. L-A-S-T.

I am so absolutely overwhelmed by everything that I've experienced in the last few days while listening to this. As Cassandra Clare's longest book to date, a whole dang fuckin' lot happens in this book. To sort my way through this review, the following paragraphs are gonna be chock full of a whole dang fuckin' lot of untagged spoilers, so continue at your own risk. I do think you're doing yourself a huge disservice if you do read this review before you've read the book, though. It's also incredibly likely I'll drop a spoiler or two on every Shadowhunters book so, if you're here and you have not, for some reason, read The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices, the other two books in The Dark Artifices trilogy, and all of the short stories in The Bane Chronicles, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, and Ghosts of the Shadow Market, I implore you to amend that, to go and read those fourteen books and this fifteenth book before reading this review, just in case I ruin anything for you by accident. Okay, now that's out of the way, let's talk about sequels and how to finish a grand, epic fantasy story. It was difficult for me to not compare this book to three other books. The first two are, of course, Cassandra Clare's other finales, City of Heavenly Fire and Clockwork Princess. This handily bowls City of Heavenly Fire straight under the table because, even though City of Heavenly Fire is still a 5-star book, it's the weakest of The Mortal Instruments hexalogy and, other than perhaps The Bane Chronicles, it's also maybe the weakest in The Shadowhunter Chronicles in its current entirety. Clockwork Princess, by contrast, however, is, in my opinion, the best of the entire series. As a finale, Queen of Air and Darkness here sits comfortably as the second best Shadowhunters finale yet. So much happens in this book. It's split into three different parts which could have easily been split into three shorter books with near-perfect three act structures in place for each of them, making this book a nine act book with two "false" climaxes that would have made for quite the cliffhangers if they had been split up for any reason. The first act deals with the aftermath of Livia's death and, because it has a lot of rising action, it's actually a little frustrating in some ways, even if it was frustrating in an incredibly enjoyable way. One of my absolute favorite scenes in the whole book is Julian running to Magnus for help in the middle of the night because it so perfectly mirrors the scene in Clockwork Prince when another blue eyed boy named Will Herondale was at the end of his rope, desperate not to love a girl he was cursed not to be with. I loved the contrast between a Herondale's plea for salvation and a Blackthorn's last hope to avoid damnation, separated by a hundred years yet tied by the same plight and the same warlock's magic. Emotionless-Julian was a really compelling read, even if I was almost as angry and frustrated with him and Magnus as Emma was. I loved to hate how cold and calculating he became without his love and compassion around to guide his moral compass. I hated his betrayal of Emma so fucking much it hurt but I've always loved Julian's ruses, schemes, and plans, and his dealings with the Seelie Queen, the Black Volume, and a skilled calligrapher and wizard called OfficeMax. Damn. So fucking good. Also, speaking of Julian's plans and schemes, his war council and Livia's Watch is one of the most satisfying scenes in The Shadowhunter Chronicles as it currently exists; I'm so proud of my son. He is so great. Hot diggity. Speaking of reminders from past stories, we get the entire cast of The Mortal Instruments during a lot of this book. I was really excited anytime we ran into anyone from The Mortal Instruments, especially the part when Julian and Emma ended up being thrown in the same Unseelie prison as Jace and Clary were and that was Jace and Clary's first appearance in the whole novel. It could have easily gotten overwhelming; I was, in fact, rather worried that Jace and Clary would steal the spotlight for a good spell in the final act of the book, but they didn't, since Emma and Julian were, eh...too big to ignore, and the book even ends with the long-awaited Bane-Lightwood wedding of the centuries, but the story proper closes on Julian and Emma on the beach together. Even though The Wicked Powers is still yet to come, this book felt like a huge culmination of all fourteen of the prior books in a huge way. We had Jem and Tessa from The Infernal Devices, we had Jace, Clary, Simon, Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus from The Mortal Instruments, and we had Emma, the Blackthorns, and all their friends and allies from this series and it felt huge. I also felt the weight of what's to come in a super hardcore manner when it came to Kit and Ty, Dru and Jaime, and, of course, Ash. I genuinely feel as though I can't wait any longer to see how Kit and Ty's stories turn out. I'm especially pleased by the fact that Jem and Tessa decided to adopt Kit and that Kit will have the family he's longed for his whole life and, not only will he have two capable people parenting him through the rest of his adolescence, but he'll also have that younger sibling he's been longing for, someone he can teach and take care of in the way he wasn't when he was small. I really hope at least one of the two forthcoming Ghosts of the Shadow Market stories focuses on Kit and his new life and new home with Jem, Tessa, and hopefully their new precious tiny one. Thoughts of the future of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in Drusilla, Kit, Ty, and, specifically, Ash, bring me back around to the second section of the book, which is the most absolutely bananas thing Cassandra Clare has ever written but is also actually incredibly compelling. I fucking loved the alternate universe stuff, everything to do with the exciting return of not-Jace, the introduction of alterna-Livia, other-Cameron, and living-Raphael (especially the part where he begged Emma and Julian to tell Magnus and Alec to rename Rafael; I was in tears laughing about all of that biz), and the temporary absence of emotionless-Julian and how he and Emma ended up healing so much of their relationship there. I also am so totally down with not-Jace being the main villain of The Wicked Powers, or at least a main villain. I am really impressed with Cassie—which, when am I not, honestly?—in the way that second section of the book was written. It felt like a huge love letter to me as a longtime and dedicated fan of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in general because we got to see these, for lack of a better term, a fanfiction AU turned canon that doesn't read like a fanfiction in the least bit because it remains relevant, interesting, tense, and important the whole way through, even though it's literally a gigantic non-sequitur that some could argue is "pointless." I am not one who would argue that, though, because I loved it so damn much. It gave me what is probably my favorite Emma and Julian scene in all of The Dark Artifices, just after they return to the resistance stronghold. You know the scene. Okay, rapid fire because I could honestly go on forever about this book; I pinned 108 different clips throughout this book, which is the most pins or post-its I've ever put in one single book before. I adored the fact that Simon gave Julian his iron Lord Montgomery figurine before he and Emma left Idris. Michael Wayland's ghost showing up for Robert Lightwood's funeral fucked me up in a super hardcore way and the fact that Kit was the only one who could see him or even sense his presence really got to me and I really teared up because Bitter of Tongue from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy absolutely wrecked me and this poked at that wound. Everything in regards to Mark, Cristina, and Kieran was incredibly sweet, sex positive, loving, trusting, and healthy and I just...gah they are perfect. A most excellent thruple, one for the ages. A great many of my pins have something to do with Kit growing into his inborn Herondale talent of being a master in snark (think candy gram and "Alas, poor Yorick,"). Everyone in the alternate realm being grossed out by endarkened-Emma's and endarkened-Julian's PDA was hilarious. Julian realizing art requires pain and morality about snapped my sad tiny bird heart clean in half. Feline death on a massive scale. Anytime Jace's more playful, youthful side showed because he's a happy boi now was delightful, especially the parts where he wanted to get to hold the mortal sword and when he declared, "We're the bait!" Magnus hallucinating was great, but my favorite hallucination was when he was flirting with a vase like it was Alec and then very seriously offering to buy it from the Institute. I also loved it when Magnus called Clary "biscuit". It made my heart all soft and nostalgic. Julian's smile at Emma when he got his emotions back tot me emotional, dammit! Caterina meeting Kit for the first time made my heart feel like it was too large for my body. Jace using finger guns, because finger guns are always hilarious. Dru realizing she was looking at the face of a parent when she looked at Julian. Kit responding to being called "Herondale," when Magnus said, "Stay away from my children, Herondale." Emma telling Diana that she showed her the kind of woman she wanted to be. Emma's terrible pun about Manuel being tied up. "Ragnor Lives." An old lady accidentally complimenting Julian on being tall. Emma and Julian deciding to go to the other at the exact same time. Alec would look better on the money. Mark trying (and failing) to make balloon animals and accidentally making them all snakes. That's not even a third of them all. Near the beginning of the review, I said I was having a difficult time avoiding comparing this book to three other books, two of which were past Shadowhunters books. The third book, however, is Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas, which is another very long final book in a series, one that somehow managed to get voted as the best YA fantasy of 2018 and, because of that slap in the face, I couldn't help but wonder how this book, technically the fifteenth in a series, managed to feel fresh, new, fun, and lovable from minute one to hour thirty of the audiobook even though this is the fifteenth time I've experienced a book in The Shadowhunter Chronicles for the first time and I've never come close to feeling the same sort of apathy or anger as I do for Sarah J. Maas and Throne of Glass. This is how you end a series. This is how you end one part of your series. This is how it's done. Take notes, everyone else. Get on Cassie's level.

#queen of air and darkness #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #2018 #goodreads mirror #blurrypetals

[packsbeforesnacks]

Tongue Twister || Noah & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, June 20th, 2020, during and after Luke and Layla’s party. LOCATION: The Magic Circle & Creed Park PARTIES: @noah-kalani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Noah and Winn figure some things out over a game of Twister. Things escalate. WARNINGS: Rated M for Mature. At least three (3) boners and some brief heavy petting.

Walking into the Magic Circle, Noah unbuttoned the last button on his yellow “Hawaiian” shirt, chest now actually bare against his blue boardshorts. He knew coming as a “surfer” might be a bit of a stretch for this crowd, but having lived in the jockiest of jock outfits for years he didn’t feel the least bit drawn to a hot football jersey. Or any other jersey for that matter. Nodding at the others, Noah headed towards the bar, chatting and drinking with Miles, Nate, Otto, and Luke, happy in the atmosphere of the party.

Winn, contrary to popular opinion, really hated bein’ late to shit. But Ariana’s damn Black Cherry White Claws had been a former frat bro’s living nightmare to find. At least he was here now, before the cake cutting. A light sheen of sweat on his arms and cheeks was the only sign that he’d been runnin’ around. Hiis (mesh) shirt helped with that problem, thankfully. Parties were always hot and Winn refused to sweat his ass off if he didn’t have to. He wasn’t wearin’ much else — rainbow track shorts, sneakers (hockey players didn’t have cleats and he wasn’t going to waste the money), and the looongest White Boy socks he could find. Winn dropped his cooler by the door (he’d find Ari in a sec), and his eyes immediately found Noah. Despite his, ugh, crush, he never could resist a surprise bear hug. He rushed the man, squeezing him from behind in the most heterosexual way. “Boo.”

Turning around to find out who was hugging him, Noah smiled. “Winn, you’re here!” he exclaimed with a bit of giddy excitement. “What do you want to drink? Nate just had a shot. And then there’s Twister and stuff over there.” Noah pointed to the corner where others were already starting to go at it.

Winn squeezed tightly, inhaling Noah’s scent. “Bro, you smell… really good?” He smiled, soft and sappy, before realizing that he was absolutely showing his hand. He let go of Noah as subtly as possible, nodding at— “Oh, shit, Otto? Wild place to meet up? And, hey, Blackthorne! Small world, architect bro!”

Letting Winn do his sniffing thing, Noah just took a long gulp of his beer. “It’s a party, dude, of course I smell great.” He snorted playfully. As Winn talked with his friends, Noah downed his beer, beelining for the Twister mat. He did not come practically shirtless for nothing. The Twister game was easy enough for Noah, as his body contorted into various shapes. What was the hard part was trying not to go down as the others fell around him. He was lucky that while others were also athletic, they didn’t have the ability to hold their position quite like Noah. And just as soon as it started, they were down to just Lucas and Noah. Knowing that the competition was going to be stiff with another athletic bro in the mix, Noah took a risk, deciding to play a little dirty, jiggling his pecs directly into Lucas’s face. And down Lucas went, unable to resist ogling at a few of Noah’s assets. Releasing his pretzeled bodyc Noah listened to the cheers with a grin on his face as Otto claimed him the Twister champion.  

Winn turned away from the counter, away from Otto, Miles, and Nate, just in time to see Luke and Noah duking it out on the magical (?) Twister board. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t. ‘Cause Noah was playin’ dirty on the hapless bisexual man beneath (and on top of?) him. So, Winn saw Noah wiggle his pecs, saw Noah win based on the strength of bein’ fucking gorgeous and charming. His mouth ran dry, drier when Miles joked “You know, might want to ease up on the pec wiggling. Lot of folks wearin’ sweats and trackpants.” Winn needed a drink, but Otto was moving out from behind the counter to declare the winner, and… Was it hot in here? It was hot in here. (He was wearing mesh and the jock equivalent of booty shorts, he knew. But it was, like, definitely just hot.) Pull it together, Winner.

Grabbing his shirt from the side of the mat, Noah couldn’t help but to grin as he threw it back over his shoulders. He honestly had not planned to flex hard enough to make poor Luke fall, but at the same time he was glad his assets had somehow come in handy — especially as Otto declared him the de facto winner. Riding the endorphin high, Noah gave a few back pats and good games before sauntering over to the one person he really wanted to talk to right now. “You saw that, right?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Winn, dimples on display. He wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted Winn’s attention, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to get something out of the usually flirtatious Winner Lycus Woods tonight.

“Um,” Winn said, extremely intelligently. Okay, bro mode. Go bro mode. “I saw you destroy the birthday boy, brah!” He bro-hugged Noah, giving him two slaps on his — wait, shit, shirtless — back, before pulling back and grinning wildly at the other man. “Who knew you were so flexible, yeah?” Wait. Gay. Gay as shit. Backtrack. “I mean, other than all those girls you bag, hahaha!” Laughing too loud again. Why the fuck had Noah come over here, flashed those dimples? Why couldn’t Winn fucking control his stupid ass around a cute boy. A cute, straight boy. Damn it. He was spared further mortification by the cake-cutting being called. He gave Noah another bro-pounding on the back for good measure — his skin was hot and nice — and said, “Cake? I made the fuckin’ thing, I should get the fuckin’ thing, yeah? YEAH!”

Looking at Winn, Noah raised a slight eyebrow, trying not to look too concerned for the man in front of him. This wasn’t like Winn at all. Like yeah, he was still flirty Winn. But the usual finesse seemed to be gone and was replaced by an almost uncomfortable awkwardness. And especially as he started talking about Noah’s body count. “Not that I would ever be one to dismiss my sexual prowess, but I think the thanks goes more toward all the Physical Therapists I’ve seen over the years. You think Twister’s bad, wait till one of those dudes has you on a table.” He chuckled, before the announcement about cake was made. “Oh yeah, I forgot Ari said you made the cake!” Excited about the prospect of stuffing his face (and potentially smashing someone's face in a piece), Noah found his hand resting on Winn’s lower back, cheekily pushing the other in front of him. “Lead the way, stud.”

“Not the way I want dudes to have me on a table, Noh,” Winn said automatically, trying to recover from the goddamn travesty that had taken over his social skills. But then, Noah’s hand was on his back, and Winn wanted to swear aloud. They were friends. Winn shouldn’t be flinching away from his friend’s touch, too scared of liking it. Liking it too much. But flinch he did, darting forward a full foot away from Noah’s hand the moment he heard stud come out of Noah’s mouth. Winn tried to save it, a strained “Race you?” to his friend, but it was flimsy at best. The table was close. He scrolled through better excuses. Bathroom? No, he’d miss the cake-cutting. Lean into the physical affection? No, he’d explode. Literally explode. But, fuck, he needed air, needed away from Noah. The problem was, he didn’t want to be away from Noah. He put some distance between them as they made their way over, hoping it wasn’t… obvious. He’d told Blanche and Ricky, he didn’t want to hurt this friendship. He didn’t. But… Fuck, maybe he needed some space. For a while.

Noah was not known to be one of the most astute of people, but he definitely was not dumb, and Winn was definitely being weird. Like super weird. Like he was even flinching away from his touch weird . What the actual fuck. Grabbing his shoulder Noah gently stopped Winn from moving any further, coming up to face him. “Winn, what’s going on with you?” he asked quietly, hoping his eyes screamed sincerity. Had he done something wrong? Shit. He’d done something wrong hadn’t he.

But no, Winn couldn’t do that to Noah. Not after his stupid misunderstanding. Not after Noah had poured his heart out to Winn. Noah deserved to know, and Winn would have picked a better time for this, but… He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then Noah was in front of him. Winn looked into his friend’s eyes. And he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t find it in him to lie, not looking into those eyes, again. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, he hoped, quietly and evenly. “I’m not breaking my promise,” he tried to assure, but realized that might sound bad. “That’s not even a possibility, Noh.” His throat was scratchy a bit, but he wouldn’t be the world’s worst packmate and make a scene at his friends’ birthday party. The pack had had enough misery, he wouldn’t add his own to the pile. “Let’s… Would you mind stayin’ after the party, for a little bit? We could, um, take a walk. Sober.” As much as Winn wanted liquid courage, he needed to be stronger than this. For himself, and for Noah.

Taking in everything, Noah felt his heart start to beat wildly. “We need to talk” was not exactly the most calming phrase in the history of phrases, especially when it was accompanied by Winn acting weird and bringing up his running incident again. And sober? Why the fuck did he want him sober? Resisting the urge to just flat out refuse to hear Winn out (because fuck fucking Winn and his mood killing vibe), Noah removed the shirt from around his shoulders, and started shoving his arms through, already feeling too vulnerable and bare for this right now. “It's fine. We can definitely talk later.” He nodded, as he resumed walking toward the cake. Looks like he was gonna need like 3 pieces if Winn wanted him to get through this night sober.

“Hey, hey,” Winn said, already knowing the signs of Noah tightening up, heard Noah’s heart slamming in his chest. He grabbed Noah’s hand as he was walking away, pulling the other man back again and giving his hand a firm squeeze. (Gay, his mind screamed.) “Seriously, Noh. Things are good. Really good, I promise. Let’s just act like we’re hangin’ out all chill-like. And you looked great without a shirt, bro.” There. Cool. Easy. Winn smiled, straightening up, and turned back to the cake-side of the room. Okay, change of plans. Don’t leave Noah’s side for long. Winn kept Noah’s hand tight in his, running circles and lines with his thumb, pulling him towards the cake. After the cutting (and where the hell was Layla?), Winn grabbed a piece of the cake (that he definitely couldn’t eat) and resolved to be the smooth, easy Winner everyone was expecting. Noah was always in his sight, and on his mind, the calm gravity of the other man leading him back again and again (he even refilled the man’s cake plate with his own slice). As the night dragged on, Winn loosened up, little by little. “Wanna play some Twister?” he asked, eventually, wiggling his eyebrows.

Feeling the tug of a hand intertwining with his, Noah allowed himself to be forcibly turned back, fully expecting to have a goddamn meltdown, lovers quarrel, whatever the fuck this was, right in the middle of the fucking birthday party. But when he looked at Winn, and listened to him qualify a bit more that this was going to be a good talk Noah could feel his anxiety and anger dissipate slightly. Winn wasn’t trying to hurt him, or make him upset, Winn was... reassuring him? Woah. Noah stared straight at Winn, mouth opening and then closing, any sort of rebuttal dying on his tongue at this sudden realization. Nodding, Noah just turned back toward the cake, hand in hand with Winn, figuring he could try to be chill (even though holding hands with Winn in the middle of a large crowded room made him decidedly not chill) After his prerequisite 3 pieces of cake, and a lot of laughter, Noah could feel his good mood comeback, the sugar in his veins making him giddy. “Only if you wanna get your ass handed to you.” He smirked at Winn “I am the reigning champ after all.”

“Bro, I’m going to smoke you like a joint,” Winn said, a soft chuckle. “I’m flexible as hell.” He looked down at his mesh crop-top, a small frown. But, well, Noah had been shirtless during his last game? So, it'd be… fine. Pulling the shirt over his head, and using it to dab at the light sweat on his face and chest, Winn winked at Noah. He could hashtag-flirt his way into being totally comfortable with this, right? Winn tossed it over behind the bar when Otto wasn’t looking, and got up in Noah’s face a bit, cocky smirk plastered across his mouth. Jocks did this, right? Jocks. “Wanna make a bet?” he said, suddenly bold. “Let’s make it interesting.”

“Yea well flexibility is only half the battle” Noah replied trying not to watch to closely as Winn divested himself of his own shirt. He’d avoided looking at them in the beginning, but the barebells in Winn’s nipple now caught his full attention. Fuck. That was…. Biting his lip Noah busied himself with looking annnnnnnywhere else. One day he’d ask Winn about them, but for now he was gonna pick his horny ass jaw up off the floor and play some twister. But then Winn got in his face and the wolf in him started to bleed through. “Depends. What are we betting?” Noah drew himself to full height, recognizing the alpha male energy Winn was trying to exude and matching it with equal and unflinching force. Two could play that game after all. “My first born is already promised to another.”

Aw, fuck. Noah was trying to alpha dog his way through this conversation. Winn had some regrets about wearing [compression] shorts and little else, ‘cause Noah made a convincing wolf even in his half-self. Regrets. But he could keep himself — and his head — in the game. “Well,” he said, word dripping out in his honeyed accent, “Can’t be nothing money can buy. Too easy for me to get out of. We’re not sitcom characters, so I ain’t gonna make you my errand boy for a week either. Hmm…” He put his finger to chin, making a big show of thinking. “What do you have,” Winn said, voice going from sweet to gravelly as he leaned in to talk into Noah’s ear, hot breath close, “to bargain with, Kalani?” Was anyone staring? Someone had to be seeing this.

Standing still, Noah cocked his head, smirk still splayed across his lips. This was starting to get heated, and it was safe to say that his wolf liked it, the whole confrontation with a heaping helping of sexual tension was something that Noah usually ate up when he was out with women. But then Winn was whispering in his ear, hot breath tingling against his neck, practically making his brain short circuit. And normally, he would have pulled away by now, the thought of all of these strangers eyes and thoughts too much to bear. But there was something about having three pieces of cake coursing through his blood stream, and the rainbow of lights, and the way Winn was pleading, no begging for him to just give up that had Noah digging his heels in. If Winn wanted a challenge, we was gonna get a fucking challenge “Well I usually bargain with my body, but…” He trailed off slowly, devilish dimples out in full bloom. Pulling away Noah winked before he turned and headed toward the Twister mat. Your move, Winner.

Noah looked… fucking amazing under the shine of the lights — the happy flush to his brown skin, those damn dimples. Winn could almost put them in another time, another place. A club in DC, the attic of the frat house. But one of the things about Noah that Winn wanted to drink in was his fight, the confidence in his challenges to Winn’s questions, Winn’s flirtation. And sure, maybe it was all actin’, but Winn was a selfish man. He’d take this. He could almost feel the steam rolling off their bodies when Noah mentioned betting his body, something in Winn clicking into place. It wasn’t a true bet, but the wolf was prowling now, sensing a dare. And though the human in Winn wanted to stamp down the hope-tinged-with-horny, the wolf in him knew it was fuckin’ on. “One-on-one!” Winn called out to Noah, standing across from him on the mat. “Winner takes all.” He grinned, staring pointedly at his friend.

Shrugging out of his button down, Noah draped it over the back of the nearest chair, his whole body tingling with anticipation. He loved flirting, he loved fighting, and if he was being honest with himself, he’d say that he also loved looking across the mat and seeing Winn, in all his glory. Happy. Grinning. Sarcastic. Flirty. Winn. “Sure” Noah responded, throwing a cheeky arm over his chest to stretch a little bit and he toed off his shoes. One on One would generally be harder than regular Twister but he was willing to accommodate the request “Though I think you mean Noah takes all, buddy boy” Switching arms, Noah grinned straight back at Winn.

Winn was glad they weren’t attracting too much of a crowd. It made him feel like Noah and he could just relax and lean into whatever their energy was. The first spins of the dial were easy, Noah and Winn dancing around one side of the board. “Swing your partner round and round,” Winn sing-songed, shoulders shimmying as he moved into the newest variation on “feet spread a normal amount apart.” But that quickly changed, as Winn felt them stretch from one side of the mat to the other with their hands, and then a leg. And, oh, alright. Okay. Ass. That was definitely Noah’s ass. Right in his face. Winn was near-touching it, his breath easy on the dip of Noah’s back. “Bro, have you been working your glutes? Lookin’ tight,” he quipped just loud enough for Noah to hear, trying to distract himself. Fortunately for him, the next spin allowed him to try and reposition himself. Try.

Stepping onto the mat Noah put on his game face, competitive spirit already coursing through him. He didn’t exactly know what he was gonna win but goddamn if he wasn’t going all out to do so. Snorting slightly at the other man’s sing song as they repositioned their feet, Noah was focused on finding the best moves which meant that for the most part he couldn’t see Winn. But maybe that made things better, and especially when he ended up pretzled across the Twister board full blown ass in the air. Normally he wouldn’t care, but at the same time…. This was definitely newer territory for both he and Winn, as made obvious by the older man’s obvious deflections. “Keep talking about my tight ass and I’ll be sure to fart on you” Noah joked with a chuckle as he angled even closer to Winn. Exploiting a weakness was how he won the last game and Winn would be mistaken if Noah wasn’t going to use his body to his full advantage.

“Not my kink,” Winn mumbled, as he was taken away from Noah’s ass and… being stretched back, fully, palms down in green, feet fully in red. Noah had an easier time of it, given he was facing downward. Hard yoga, but still doable. Winn was super glad he stayed in shape, ‘cause this stretch was rough. But… Well, if Noah was going to play dirty (if gross), Winn could mess with him. That damnable hope was back, and Winn wondered if… if Noah was flustered, or confused, maybe? César had been, and it would be on-brand for Winn to be (romantically) attracted to hapless bisexual disasters and hapless bisexual disasters exclusively. And while Twister wasn’t talkin’, it had its perks. The color moved Winn’s left hand from green to yellow, and back again -- but Noah had decided to fuck with him today, apparently. His hands ended up crossed behind him, and, given he was still bent backwards, it had to look… awkward, from the outside looking in. “Noh,” Winn whispered, jerking his head forward in a tiny nod to his hips, where they bucked as subtly as he could manage. “If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.” God, I hope the pack didn’t hear that.

“I’d be alarmed if it was,” Noah shot back with a laugh as they kept up their dance, Noah muscles starting to burn a little from having to keep his weight off the floor in his twisted position. Apparently, he needed to put some more stretching into his workouts, but that was a problem for another day, especially as he saw his opening. Diving forward, Noah took the offensive and claimed the green spot that would be more convenient for Winn, forcing the other man to cross his arms. Glancing backwards at the sad pretzel of a man — who may or may not have just thrust his hips at him? naughty, naughty — Noah just snorted again. “True, but this is definitely more fun.” Yup, definitely more fun, and less… sexy? No, actually, Twister might be making everything more sexy… But that was a crisis for another day. Hopefully.

Winn breathed a sigh of relief as he was given a temporary reprieve from testing the limits of his flexibility. “Don’t think you’ve ever tied anyone up before then, bro.” He laughed weakly. A thin sheen of sweat was obvious on his chest, and arms, and face. Christ, Noah had been smart to stretch a little before starting; Winn had been too, uh, cocky. And, fuck. If he had to stretch like that again, he’d lose. And… well, neither of them knew what they had bet, Winn was sure, but Winn wasn’t about to lose it, lose to Noah. It felt like this was playin’ for more than braggin’ rights and Winn wasn’t sure whether that was real or imagined. But he was a winner. Literally. He was right-side up now, Noah’s back still to him. As the color changed once once, his crossed arms stretched — just barely — to red and yellow. But, because God had a sense of humor or really did hate the gays, now Winn was all up in Noah’s ass again. And then, the hand that had just moved to yellow was told to go to green. Shit. Winn stretched out, trying as hard as possible to reach over without pullin’ his arm out of its socket. ‘Course, then it all went shit-side. “Fuck.”

“Not seriously. Last time I tried, I was the one being tied. Being restrained isn’t really my cup of tea, to be honest,” Noah mused through gritted teeth as they fumbled through another grueling hand position. He didn’t exactly know why he told Winn that, but the smalltalk was better than them silently thrusting parts of their body parts at each other with zero remorse. Or at least zero remorse on Noah’s end, one of his best assets once again in Winn’s face. Grinning to himself, Noah urged his arms to hold his weight as he stretched for what seemed like an impossible color. But of course it was then, as both boys moved that the world decided they were pushing too far, and in a series of unfortunate events, Noah lost his balance and fell. Onto Winn. His lap, specifically. “Shiiittttt,” Noah breathed out as both men crashed to the floor.

[Maybe break it into Part 2 here?]

The world was spinning, and it was silent. Once again, Winn felt like he and Noah were the only two in the world. Even the couple of folks that had been watching their nonsense seemed shocked into silence at this particular turn of events. Winn, breathing hard, let his head fall forward onto Noah’s shoulder. It probably should have been gross, both of them covered in sweat, but Winn didn’t really fuckin’ care. He started laughing, high and delighted and clear, before wrapping his arms around Noah in a tight hug. Through the sweat, Noah smelled good, warm, safe, happy. But, ‘course, it couldn’t last, Winn suddenly hyper aware of Noah’s body against his. Miles’ joking caution was becoming a very real problem, Winn nudging his hips up against Noah as he shifted and mentally cursed the theme of his party with all the venom in his arsenal. “Uh,” he whispered into the other man’s ear, “I don’t have the Full Moon as an excuse this time, but I have a problem. And I’m so, so sorry. Can we, um, chill like this for a sec? Get up together or somethin’? Don’t want to flash the room.”

If Noah was going to fall, he guessed the best way to fall was with Winn. Sitting there, laughing and giggly, on the ground, neither could say they won, but at the same time Noah was so gone right now he didn't really care. Because he was safe here in the sweaty arms of Winn. Even if those arms were attached to a really responsive body. “Wait, are you sporting, again?” Noah huffed, trying to roll over so he was face to face with Winn instead of, well, not. Realizing, though, that that was just going to make everything much, much worse, Noah calmed and stopped squirming, resigning himself to just, well, have a semi hard part of Winn pressed into the lower section of his back. Which if Noah was thinking about it wasn’t actually like totally… weird or, like, completely unwanted now that he was thinking about it... But again. Crisis for another time. Looking up at the ceiling, Noah tried to focus on not making their predicament worse, the only way he knew how. With offensive humor.  “Well, since we’re here for a bit, serious question for you, bub.” He poked the offending arm around his middle, making sure Winn was listening. “Are you, like, a nymphomaniac or something?” Noah turned his head and grinned up at the other man, hoping he could see this was all fun and games. “Cuz it seems like everytime we get close together you get hard.”

This was the nightmare scenario, but Winn couldn’t be assed to give a shit. Noah squirming against his lap felt good, and Winn had to muffle a groan into the skin of Noah’s back. Fortunately, he seemed to understand and stopped. ‘Course, Noah was always a joker, and, as he asked an extremely joking question, Winn felt his entire body flush, stammering out, “I— Uh, I mean.” Noah was joking, Winner. Joking. Calm the fuck down. “Shut up,” he finished, lamely. The embarrassment, at least, was killing his boner. He wasn’t used to feelin’… vulnerable, like this. And though Winn had a pretty thick skin, he knew Noah could ruin him with a word, a look. Realizing that he hadn’t technically answered Noah’s question, and knowing that Noah deserved an answer because this was almost exactly how they’d first spent time together and it couldn’t be written off as base horniness anymore, he sighed against Noah’s ear. “Let’s get out of here, Noh. Meet me outside in five.” He hoisted both of them up, boner subsided enough to not be obvious in the dim lights of the bar. No winner had been declared, but he really didn’t care right now. Noah could have the victory, could have all of him. Fuck. He was really gone, huh? Winn circled the room, picking up his shirt and giving goodbyes, and walked out the door to wait for Noah on the street.

It was safe to say that Noah expected a lot of things from this exchange, but what he really did not expect is for Winn to start stuttering. Looking back at the other man Noah took in the flush splattered across his cheek bones, the way he dodged his artfully dodged his question. If Winn had been a girl Noah would have said he had a crush on him somehow. But Winn wasn’t a girl. Winn was… Wait. Oh Shit. The sudden realization hit Noah like a pile of bricks, flatlining any type of response that he could have had. Because it was obvious wasn’t it? Grabbing his own shirt off the chair he’d placed it on, Noah ran on autopilot, barely remembering the hugs and the goodbyes, his head filled with Winn and Winn only. Slipping out of the door, Noah walked until he found the other man standing under a streetlight, the soft glow making his features stand out even more. This wasn’t the first time Noah had looked at Winn like this, as something more than what they both knew they were, but it was the first time Noah looked at Winn like this. “Soooo, what’s up?” Noah asked gently, sincere brown eyes looking at Winn for the answers.

“Let’s walk,” Winn said back, just as quiet as Noah. His palms were sweaty, like a teenager with their very first crush. If this were casual, Winn would have propositioned Noah, been turned down, and moved on. But he just had to catch feelings. Creed Park was nearby, and Winn plopped down on the ground next to a tree at the edge of the park, the fading light and early summer breeze blowing against them. He patted the spot next to him, looking up at Noah. “C’mon, sit with me.” Winn smiled gently. The Twister game had given him some hope, and he was half-sure that Noah had guessed already, but he had to push forward. “Noah, I think you’re my best friend,” he started, completely ignoring the actual issue. “So, I want you to know. You’re important to me. More important than I really thought would happen when we me— Actually. No. That’s not true.” He laughed, his head thunking against the bark of the tree. “I met you, and I knew. I didn’t know what, but something told me… You were important. Are important.”

Walking along with Winn, Noah could start to feel his heart start to beat rapidly in his chest again. He shouldn’t be nervous, but with all this build up and tension, and that fucking sudden realization that Winn actually liked him, had his head spinning. Because Luke was right, they’d been dancing around each other unable to admit what was truly going on. “Winn,” Noah started taking a deep calming breath, “if you’re gonna say what I think you’re gonna say, just—” He stopped for a moment glancing over at Winn, brown eyes meeting brown “Just say it, please.” It came out softly, part of Noah pleading for Winn just to do it, and another part scared of what it would mean when the giant ass elephant was finally out in the room.

Oh. He does know. Winn’s heart was heavy-light — fluttering and hopeful, but slack and stony. But there was something about Noah’s eyes, the way that the setting sun was shining soft light on both of their bodies. It made Winn bold, giddy, nervous. He was going to die. Or maybe… “Noah,” Winn said, like a revelation. Well, why the fuck not? The werewolf closed the distance between him and his best friend, the person he’d falle— Oh, but, the kiss. Noah’s lips were so, so soft, the slightest hint of chocolate on the man’s breath. When he didn’t get punched or pushed away, Winn brought his hand up to Noah’s face, his other arm tentatively resting at Noah’s side. He wasn’t going to move further, not without Noah’s permission, without Noah kissing back, but he wanted to stay in this moment of pure, crystalline happiness. Winn felt himself smiling into the kiss.

For Noah, everything happened in slow motion, Winn’s face coming forward, their lips meeting in the middle. Kissing Winn was not like any woman he’d ever kissed. Where there usually was softness, Winn was full of edges, sometimes sharp, and sometimes dull. It was scary how much Noah liked it. How much he could now see just how fucking gone he was for this man. There was no doubt about it. Noah wasn’t straight. Noah wasn’t straight, and there was a part of him, however small, that loved Winn. And now that that door was open, there was no closing it. Sitting there trying to hold himself together, with his own arousal and all these other complex feelings overwhelming him Noah just took a deep breath. Neither had moved since this started, but Noah knew they couldn’t just continue without talking about what happened. Winn wasn’t just some quick fuck, and this wasn’t something Noah could bury. “I’ve never kissed a man before, Winn.” Noah trailed off shaking his head slightly. “I mean, judging from this I don’t think I’d be opposed but, I don’t….Fuck…. This is not a good answer is it?” Noah looked down. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Winn by not being able to reciprocate in the way he knew he should. But this was all so difficult and honestly frightening.

If Winn was being honest, the kiss had left him in a bit of a daze. When Noah had kissed back, however briefly the moment had lasted, Winn realized, damnably, that he could kiss Noah for the rest of his fuckin’ life. The gigawatt smile hadn’t left his face, even as Noah started talking about being scared. Winn had been here, before. Not in the same way, no, but he could stow his attraction for a moment, focus on his friend in front of him, nervous and confused, and offer him what he had been given: Support. “That’s alright, Noah,” he started, hand coming to Noah’s shoulder, rubbing the tension out as best he could. “You don’t need a perfect answer. We all have to… figure out shit out, y’know?” He wanted to hug the other man, but knew he should hold off, if only for the moment. “It’s alright to be… however, you’re feeling, right now.” He understood, really, he did. This was far from the worst case scenario he’d run through in his head, far from the worst case probable scenario, too. “I don’t need you to be anything more than you already are, Noh. Because… I really like the person you are. Forgot to say that, ‘cause I figured… actions, y’know?” He laughed, a quiet and private thing, only for Noah’s ears. Winn ran his fingers through the grass at his hips, picking at the blades with his fingers. “I— There’s no one else I’d rather be next to, right now. No matter how you feel about me.” He paused, looking back up and into Noah’s eyes, before saying with a soft smile, “Or… don’t feel.”

“But you deserve a perfect answer” The phrase was out of Noah’s mouth before he could stop himself, before he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Winn was right afterall, he didn't need to have it all figured out today, or tomorrow. He just needed to be himself. “Sorry I’m just-” He started not really knowing what he wanted to say but knowing something needed to be said “I’m used to holding everything together so well, and ever since i met you..” Noah trailed off leaning back against the tree with a sigh. Winn apparently had a whirlwind effect on his life. Watching him be vulnerable though, and supportive, brought Winn into a new light for Noah. One where he could see them, working through all of these  issues together. But first Noah had to be real with himself, and real with Winn, even if it was in his own way. “Well considering I’m having a complete sexual crisis over your dumbass,” Noah huffed playfully “ think it’s safe to say I feel some type of way Winn.” Because yea, how could Winn even begin to fathom that Noah didn’t like him back? Looking over at the other man, Noah stilled his hand with his own, his curiosity making him feel brave “What do you like about me?” He asked gently.

Winn felt himself flush again, and he leaned his head into Noah’s shoulder, groaning. “C’mon, bro. You can’t just say shit like that, and expect me not to feel like this.” To fall in love with you, he didn’t say. Not yet. “I haven’t… felt this way about someone in a really long time, Noh,” he said gently, knowing the other man could hear him. There was something about this, leaned into Noah’s shoulder, that made it easier to say all of this aloud. Noah’s hand on his was warm, and Winn turned his up to grab the man’s hand with his own, rubbing circles once again, tracing nonsense lines to hide his nervousness. For someone who spent half his life dealin’ with others’ emotions, he’d never been amazin’ with his own. “What wouldn’t I like about you?” he said, perhaps a little too honestly. And then, clearer, “You’re not afraid to call me on my shit, but you never stop… caring, when you do. You love animals, and are such a bleedin’ heart that I worry I might have t’patch you up sometimes. You’re smart and a smartass. I laugh when I’m around you more. I feel good, and safe, and… happy.” He took his hand off the man’s shoulder, looking at him again, head cocked. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to do bad things to you, Kalani, but I want to, y’know, do good things to you too. For you.” It wasn’t quite an asking out, but it was as close to a confession as he’d said, so far. Winn squeezed Noah’s hand tight, leaning back against the tree to look at the horizon. “A crisis, huh?” His tone was light, but he wouldn’t dare make fun of Noah for this.

Resting his head against Winn’s own, Noah chuckled at the other man’s discomfort, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He didn't know how they got to this point, but he was glad they had. Feelling his cheeks burn scarlet with the force of Winn’s description, Noah was glad the other man couldn’t see him right now. He’d never had anyone describe their infatuation with him quite like that, and it made him feel, well, seen. He was more than just a nice-looking body to Winn. That felt good. It was then that Winn brought him back to the real problem at hand, the one Noah was still scared to admit out loud. “Yeah,” he whispered, wishing this was easier, wishing he was less confused. Lifting his head from Winn’s, Noah had a sudden realization. “Winn. Can I... uh, do something?” Noah asked a gleam of mischievous energy in his eyes. He was mostly sure by this point, but there was still a part of him that wanted to know concretely, to prove that it wasn’t a fluke somehow. “Promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Winn had Noah blushing at his (genuine, heart-felt) smooth-talking, and he couldn’t help the return of his goofy, open, maybe-a-little-bit-in-love smile. They would be okay, no matter what happened. He knew that. And Winn got an answer — though not all of one — the next time Noah opened his mouth. The whispered ‘Yeah.’ Winn inhaled, sharp and interested. Fuck. That was… a lot to take in. Or would have been, if Winn’s brain hadn’t been immediately guided to the gutter. Do something? He really liked the sound of that. “Oh yeah?” he said, countering the look in Noah’s eyes with a toothy grin, reflecting back the ask, the challenge. Winn leaned back, into Noah’s side, Winn’s body spread out beneath the white ash for any of Noah’s somethings. “Promises, promises,” Winn said with a wink, looking up at the other man. This time, truly, nobody was around. It was just them, and all the time in the world to find answers. Winn leaned up, close to Noah’s ear. “Baby,” he said, a whisper in the wind, Winn tryin’ out the word in his mouth, “I’d enjoy just about anything you did to me. So…” He chuckled, rough, trying to communicate how much he wanted. “Make your move, Kalani.”

If there was a time for Noah to be brave, that time would definitely be now, especially as Winn gave him full permission to explore. Turning his body, Noah gently angled Winn’s face with his hand, looking into his eyes for a brief second before pressing their lips together again. He didn’t know what he wanted, and he didn't know if this was going to answer all the questions swirling in his head, but at the moment Noah didn’t care. Because right now he was kissing Winn, slowly and sensually, using his tongue to explore and open Winn up in ways he hadn’t even thought about till now. He didn’t usually kiss his partners like this. No, Noah was usually more of a fast and hard kind of lover. But with Winn. Goddamn it was just so different with Winn, and while that was scary to realize, it was also something Noah knew he wanted. He wanted a lot as evidenced by the rising tent in his board shorts. Yeah. He was definitely into kissing dudes. Tugging softly on Winn’s lip, Noah opened his eyes and pulled away, lungs suddenly filling with the air he’d forgotten he needed to breath. “Mmm, not your baby,” Noah whispered with a cheeky grin before turning and settling against the tree.

Winn’s eyes crinkled at the edges with his smile as Noah kissed him. Mm. Strike maybe. Winn really could kiss Noah forever. The other man’s mouth moved against his with simultaneous experience and hesitation, something that Winn could lean into easily. Especially when Noah slipped him tongue. Winn kissed back eagerly, trying to balance his need (and fuck, these shorts were going to strain) against wanting this moment to stretch and stretch. As Noah pulled away, gently biting into Winn’s lip, Winn chased him, nipping back playfully. Winn almost wanted to tell Noah it was a wolf thing, that biting was heavily encouraged. But he didn’t want to break the moment, not yet. Instead, he gazed down to where Noah’s interest was making itself known. Huh. Well, one to four wasn’t an awful record. Be plenty of time to even the score. “Hmm.” Feeling bold, Winn grabbed Noah, squeezing once through the shorts before letting go again. “Don’t think bein’ called baby is really goin’ to be a problem, baby,” he teased, savoring Noah’s reaction, drinking in the other man’s presence. He leaned back, side pressed into Noah’s, eyes closed in happiness. “Answer any questions for you, Noh? Or do you need further testin’?”

Snorting, Noah rolled his eyes. Winn’s hand had sent a shockwave straight through his system, blood already pooling in his groin. “Bruh, that’s not helping the predicament,” Noah chided with a snort, not brushing Winn’s hand away but stilling it yet again with his own. Because, yeah. Dick touching was next on the agenda, but he might need a few moments to adjust to that. “I think I’m good, for now,” he started, hoping Winn would get the hint, not that he thought he wouldn’t, it was just. It was different. For once in his life, Noah didn’t want to go zero to sixty and hop in bed with the first person who showed interest. He wanted to savor every interaction, build memories that would last, and all that jazz.  

“Didn’t want to help, bro,” Winn said, a low rumble as he squeezed Noah’s hand in his own, resting both of them on Noah’s thigh. Far away, and so, so close. “I like to make things harder for you.” He mentally high-fived himself for his pun, before smiling at Noah. “I get that,” he said thoughtfully. Winn, again, ran his thumb across the back of Noah’s hand, hoping to communicate so much with that gentle, almost tentative, action. I want this. I want you. I’ll give you whatever you need. Time. Or all of me. The thoughts were big, heavy, and warm in his heart. He wouldn’t dare admit it yet, but he knew how he felt about Noah, how much he felt about Noah. It was his turn to be scared — scared of fucking it up, scared of somehow ruinin’ Noah for other men. If there were other men. (Winn hoped there weren’t other men.) But his fear didn’t last long, as he turned and pressed one more gentle kiss to the corner of Noah’s mouth, all he could think about was how lucky he was, that all this shit had been leadin’ to somethin’, leadin’ to this. He rested his head on Noah’s shoulder, back scratching through the mesh against the bark of the tree, and, softly but with all the sincerity he could muster, Winn said, “Noah…” A soft chuckle, content and affectionate. “This is the part where I ask you to go out with me. Pretty please, sweetheart?” And the nickname tasted like chocolate on his tongue.

#wickedswriting #para #Noah #Tongue Twister #wickedsmature

[rosereview]

Chain of Gold Review

Okay so I just finished Cassandra Clare’s newest book, Chain of Gold, the first book in her new series The Last Hours which is set in the Shawdowhunter world and is a sequel to the Infernal Devices series and a prequel to the Mortal Instruments. I have loved Cassandra Clare and the Shadowhunter world since I really got into reading when I was in grade seven. Since then I have read all of Cassandra Clare’s books and every year when one or two new books come out, I run to the bookstore, buy it, and then go back home and read it as soon as possible. I am literally in love with this world and these characters and every time you think it can’t get any better, a new one comes out and it exceeds all expectations. 

In this review I will definitely spoil everything that happens so if you haven’t read the book, I wouldn’t recommend reading this review. This review will be split into different parts where I focus on different aspects of the book starting with my favourite part of any book, the characters. 

Characters

So first I’ll talk about the characters individually and my thoughts on them and we will focus more on their relationships with other characters in another part. 

To start off I want to share my thoughts on the main female character, who is also on the cover, Cordelia Carsairs. At first I wasn’t sure what to think about her because so far in all of the series, the main female character was never my favourite at the start, like Clary, Tessa, and Emma. At first all three of them were a little annoying, but now I love Tessa and Clary. (I’m still trying with Emma.) But each of them I learned to love over multiple books which is where their character really developed. In Chain of Gold, Cordelia started off kind of annoying and dumb, but throughout the book she really develops and grows and learns and now I love her after only the first book in the series! While moving to London she really learns how to behave in society while also saying true to herself which is very admirable. She such a strong girl and person and when she finally gets friends she is less dumb to the world around her and how life works. I now really care about her happiness especially with a certain someone, which we will get to.

Next I want to talk about James Herondale. Well I went into this knowing I was going to love James, I mean he is a Herondale. And while I do love him, I am also continuously angry with him and the situation he finds himself in. By that I mean with Grace Blackthorn who I despise with a passion, but we’re talking about James right now. I loved James during the middle of the book when he was not under the control of Grace and freely falling for Cordelia while loving his friends fiercely and not really hiding anything from them, like any of his feelings. I was also so proud of him for how he handled all the news about his grandfather, Belial, and how he didn’t give in to all the demon talk and trying to put all the weight on his shoulders to protect everyone he loved by sacrificing himself. I did not and still do not want to see James possessed by a demon or Prince of Hell. Overall I loved James, but not as much as I had originally thought.

And the reason I didn’t love James as much was because I loved one boy a bit more… Matthew Fairchild! Omg I am like Magnus Bane in the way I have a soft spot for broken boys. First Jace Herondale and his daddy issues, then Will Herondale and his inability to let anyone love him, and finally Julian Blackthorn and him having to be a father to his siblings while being hopelessly in love with his parabatai. Matthew fits right up there with the greats! In the short story in the Ghosts From the Shadow Market where you find out what Matthew did that makes him broken, and I did not like him after that, but then I read this book and changed my mind. I really saw how much he changed from being a self entitled Consul’s son, to being a kind and caring and selfless boy that made a big mistake. Now Matthew feels like he has to keep his secret and pain all to himself while taking up drinking to numb himself. It hurts me to watch but it makes me love him so much more. The way he loves James is beautiful while he still knows James has his own faults. Seeing Matthew with Cordelia and how he loves her almost makes me want him to win her heart, but I know James and her are who are meant to be together. I just want Matthew to find happiness and to forgive himself and love himself, and that needs to happen before he finds someone to love and who loves him back. 

Next we have Lucie Herondale who is amazing. She is just the perfect depiction of the annoying younger sister who also just has so much depth and story to her at the same time. I definitely relate to Lucie the most with her loving to write and tell story, while also fully in love with her family and friends and having such a strong relationship with her brother. She doesn’t want to be left out of the fun, but at the same time understands when some of her friends have to go on an adventure without her. All the while she is trying to understand her own gift and to help out people in need, like Jesse Blackthorn. Lucie has her own little secrets and even though she knows it will be against the law, she still wants to help out people who need her, like Jesse and even Grace, who continues to play her brother, but Lucie sees the way she lives and feels bad. That shows great character and kindness. 

Someone that really surprised me in this book, more than Matthew, was his complete opposite, his nemesis, Alastair Carstairs. At first I hated him from what he did to the boys at the Shadowhunter Academy, and that might have been a part of why I wasn’t fond of Cordelia at the beginning. But now you kind of understand why he did the things he did and said and he truly didn’t know the damage he was doing by saying all the stuff he did. During the book we see how much Alastair does to protect his family, especially his sister even when she doesn’t see it fully, and we also see how he is dealing with his own demons like his sexuality and needing to accept himself. I can’t wait to see more of Alastair in the next books.

From Alastair, I would like to touch on Thomas Lightwood who I have to say I love. Honestly I love all of the Merry Thieves and Thomas is no exception. He is definitely the kindest in the group, trying to see the good in everybody which is no easy feat. He is also sort of Christopher’s protector to a point, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself and such, which sometimes puts Thomas in the background. He also has feelings which he doesn’t understand and I can’t wait to explore that more. 

That brings me to Christopher Lightwood, Thomas’s cousin and a mini Henry. I LOVE Christopher! That boi needs protection! He is just so precious and the way he still always tries to protect his friends and his big sister, oh it is just beautiful. Literally he is the most wholesome character and I love him so much. That one scene when someone was saying something bad about Anna and Christopher got so mad and protective. It was the best.

Now I’ll talk about Anna Lightwood. I’ve loved Anna since the first time we saw her in the short stories and my love has just grown. She is such a complex character while still being loved by all, as she should be. She observes her Merry Thieves and knows what’s going on before they even do. She reminds me of Magnus Bane in that way. She also has a history with Ariadne that I can’t wait to see more of how that history comes back to make Anna fully happy again. 

I would also like to touch on Barbara and Eugenia Lightwood. It was honestly the saddest when Barbara died because Thomas doesn’t deserve that, but also Gideon and Sophie. To lose a child is the hardest thing to go through, and after everything that Gideon and Sophie have been through, they don’t deserve that. But besides that, I really liked Barbara in the short time that we knew her. Cassie never really talked about Thomas’s sisters before the books came out so I didn’t think they would really make an appearance, which made me sad because they were Gideon and Sophie’s daughters. But now that Barbara showed that she was actually fairly important for the plot of the book, I’m excited to see more Eugenia in the future. I want to know what happened to her that makes her not accepted in society, which is hinted at during the book saying she was ruined because of stuff to do with a boy. But now I want to know more and see her more. 

Next is Grace Blackthorn who I hate. I hate her and her manipulative ways with James. A small part of me kind of feels bad since she has a terrible adoptive mother and her brother died, but still she is a batch. That’s all I have to say.

Jesse Blackthorn is someone I actually want to see more of and who I’m very intrigued by. He’s very nice and thoughtful despite having a disaster of a mother. I really don’t have much else to say about him besides the fact that I want him to be alive but not if it hurts Lucie or gets her into trouble. I hope Grace does all the dirty work. 

Lastly we have Charles Buford Fairchild… I don’t even know what to say. How did Charlotte and Henry raise such an asshole? They are literally the best and practically raised Will, Jem and Jessamine, how is their first born a dick? Matthew is even an amazing guy who cared about everyone but himself while Charles is the opposite. He cares only for himself! God, and the way he talks about his mother not being a strong Consul and how he took credit for everything that the younger kids did makes me want to barf. He literally doesn’t deserve anything, including a loving family and amazing parents and brother. He makes me mad.

Relationships

Now I want to talk about the relationship between two or more characters in the book.

To start off, all of the sibling relationships are life, excluding Matthew and Charles. Like James and Lucie, Cordelia and Alastair, Anna and Christopher, Thomas and Barbara and Eugenia, even Jesse and Grace. They are all really beautiful and make me happy.

Matthew, James and Cordelia- this little love triangle actually really interests me and I love all the scenes that have all three of them running around and going on adventures. I’m really excited to see more of them in the next books.

Lucie and Cordelia- this friendship is really nice to read about, but I was kind of disappointed not to have more scenes where it’s just the two of them. I feel like there wasn’t a whole lot of time to do that in this book,mbit hopefully in the next one we can see that and their parabatai ceremony. 

Thomas and Christopher- I love that these cousins have such a strong relationship and I really want them to be parabatai. I just think that would make their relationship that much stronger and I want that for them. 

Jesse and Lucie- I really like these two together and I know from the family tree that came with the Clockwork Princess, that they end up together and that is how the Blackthorn line continues, which makes me happy. But there were also some false dates and such on the family tree, like Lucie’s birthdate, so I also don’t know if we can trust the family tree but I do really hope that these two end up together and somehow Jesse is resurrected without it hurting Lucie in any way.

Anna and Ariadne- At first when we met these two in the Ghosts of the Shadow Market short story, I did not like Ariadne. I mean, she broke Anna’s heart and made her think love was only pain and heartbreak so now she only does one night stands, which is kind of sad because she deserves someone special. But then at the end of the book when Ariadne goes up to Anna and says that she will do anything to get her back, I was so excited and happy because even with their history, they are perfect together and are meant to be, so I hope to see more of their relationship blossom in the next book.

Thomas and Alastair- So like I said before when talking about Alastair, I didn’t like him because of the things he said and did when he was at the Shadowhunter Academy, and I was a little bit annoyed that Thomas was the only one being nice to him because he really didn’t deserve it. But then we saw them in Paris and honestly, that made me so happy. I love Alastair now and I think that they both deserve happiness and someone special, and I really hope that is with each other, but if not, then I hope they both find other people to make them happy.

Charlotte and Henry and Matthew- What I really want to see more of in the next book, is Matthew with his parents. We know that Matthew has a strained relationship with them because of what he did in the past, poisoning his mom and killing his unborn sister, all because of what Alastair had said to him at school, but I really hope that they can fix their relationship in the next book. I want to see more Charlotte and Henry caring for their kids like the other parents do, and maybe some more one-on-one with Matthew and Charlotte where they try to see what the problem is and Charlotte trying to help her son. Also I want to see Charlotte give Charles a whooping for being an asshole. 

Plot

Now that we are done with all the characters, I would like to touch on the stuff that actually happened in the story. What I really loved though, about Chain of Gold, was the amount of scenes where it was just character interaction and development because like I said before, I love the characters in a story the most. This is usually what Cassandra Clare does in her books, which makes them longer and bigger, because she focuses on her characters and their journey’s, all the while getting some action in there. That was what we had with this book, a little less action and a little more learning about who these characters are as people and I really enjoyed that. But aside from the characters, the plot was very intriguing in itself. We learn that for these kids’ whole lives, London has been pretty demon-free, which causes everyone to have a false sense of security and none of the Shadowhunters are very experienced in the field. When demons do start to come back, it is a shock to their London community especially when the demons walk in the daylight and are only there to injure Shadowhunters and make them sick. I thought that whole plotline was very interesting, especially since the whole city had to go into quarantine because of this sickness, and that is literally what is happening in the world right now with COVID-19. I laughed out loud when that happened.

I really enjoyed the whole connection to the demon realm and James and his grandfather, because we never touched that in the Infernal Devices series with Tessa, and it's cool to see how it’s only coming out now and how it affects her kids. Even with all that, and the Herondale’s usually need to sacrifice themselves for their loved ones, I love how James didn’t when he was in the demon realm. He had a chance to give himself up to Belial to possess James and save everyone in London, but he didn’t and instead found another way. That was refreshing to see, because I don’t think I could have gone through another book with my boys cursed or possessed. (Literally Jace, Will and Julian.) I mean, James still has some power over him from Grace and that damn bracelet, but at least for the time being James isn't also possessed by his demon grandpa.  Speaking about the bracelet, I really liked how the bracelet wasn’t on for the whole book, so we could see how James usually acted around his friends and family when he wasn’t being controlled by anyone. I was mad when the bracelet went back on, but we can’t get everything we wish for, especially when it’s a Cassandra Clare book. 

I also definitely knew that Tatiana was behind everything, since the beginning and knew that she tied in to everything including Belial and his plans and controlling Grace and everything. She is just the worst and I have always hated her and I will always hate her. She’s like the Zara Dearborn of this series, you just hate her so much and there's no sympathy for anything she does. At least with Jonathon Morgenstern, you felt a little bit bad for him because his father made him the devil he is and he just wants to be loved by someone. And for Axel Mortmain, he just wants to get revenge for his warlock parents who were brutally killed by Shadowhunters, and same with Malcolm Fade who just wants his dear Annabel to be alive with him. Literally you can find the good in antagonists sometimes, which is literally my favourite thing to see in a story, but with Tatiana Blackthorn, she’s a bitch and she should die. 

Lastly I just wanted to say that every scene with all the Merry Thieves was beautiful and I can’t wait for more of them!

Thank you for staying till the end if you made it this far. If not I understand, it’s all kind of jumbled and long, so no hard feelings if you couldn’t read this whole thing. And sorry for everyone who did read this and got lost because all my ideas are just one big mess on the page, but oh well. I write this for me, so who really cares. 

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

#chain of gold #cassandraclare #shadowhunters #the last hours

[tsc-living]

The one where Kit doesn’t think anything is lovelier than Ty.

(This is a short story I wrote about Kit and his new friend in Devon. I know it’s strange reading about a character that doesn’t exist in the Shadowhunter Chronicles, but I love the idea of Kit navigating this new world with Tessa and Jem and having a friend. A friend who loves to listen to Kit tell her stories about the Blackthorns)

“You scared Herondale?” The girl in front of Kit said, shoulders squared and her blade as dark a silver as her hair. They were circling each other with their eyes locked and bodies thrumming with anticipation. Sweat was stinging his eyes and his blonde hair was pasted to his neck and forehead, but he didn’t dare wipe his face and risk getting a sword at his throat.

“With the scary shit I have faced in the very short sixteen years of my life, I would have to say that you don’t scare me Whitehill.” He said. She gave him a malevolent grin and leapt forward, sword thrust out. Kit parried her away with an effort and kicked his leg out, but she jumped easily, her sword twisting around his and aiming for his shoulder. He jumped back, ducked and spun out, this time knocking her to the ground. He leapt forward and disarmed her swiftly, but before he could pin her down she grabbed his hand around the blade and jerked his arm hard over her knee. He knew if she hadn’t been aware of her strength it would have broken his wrist, as it was the pain that shot up his arm was excruciating and he dropped the blade. She pinned his arm behind him, picked up his blade and held it against his throat.

“Bitch!” He spat, tapping her leg three times with his free arm. She laughed and released him, handing his sword back to him. He took it with his left hand, shaking out his right. 

“You’re too easy.” She complained, picking up her own sword. 

“Excuse me, but that is the first time today you actually bested me.” He said and she shrugged with one arm. It was true, the two of them had been sparring in the backyard of Kit’s house in Devon under the watchful eye of his adopted father since sunrise and it was starting to get dark. Jem had tried fruitlessly to stop them, for them to take breaks, but neither would stop. It was the anniversary of Ariana’s family being torn apart by werewolves and as Kit and her were the only two training Shadowhunters nearby, and each other’s only friend, it was his duty to do what she needed from him. As it was, she wanted to train until she collapsed, which Kit was worried she wouldn’t. Even though her pale silver hair was dark and drenched with sweat, her white tank top transparent and clinging to her body, she was already circling again. Kit’s own body was aching, especially his sword arm, and he was losing the will to keep fighting.

“Because I literally haven’t eaten all day! You let me drink every three fights and then you leap on me again. As flattered as I am Ari, and believe me you are the only person throwing yourself on me at the moment, I need a break.” He said, sitting down where he had stood on the grass. Ariana paused and then dropped down beside him, burying her face against her knees and covering her head with her arms; nearly decapitating Kit in the process. He gingerly took the sword from her and laid it on the grass behind her before putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. He knew she was trying not to cry, but the exhaustion was taking over.

“Come on Ari, you’re allowed to cry.” He said softly and she turned, burying her face against his sweat sodden clothing, clinging to his collar. He hugged her tightly and she made a funny gasping noise, her body shuddering. Kit had only ever seen grief like this when he had witnessed the Blackthorns after Livia had died. It was the soul destroying, body racking pain that somehow didn’t produce tears. Ariana’s father, mother and two older siblings had been torn apart by werewolves in London whilst on a routine patrol the year prior and she never spoke about it. You could see that there was something missing from her, it was visible in her eyes and in the way she spoke. She had become the master of conversation, avoiding anything that could involve her family. After their death, the only other Shadowhunter family in Devon had taken her in and it had been Tessa’s idea that Ariana and Kit meet. Kit had only been living with Tessa and Jem for a very short while at that time, dealing with his own pain, and the two of them suffered together in their own ways. Ariana suffered silently, and dealt with it by training. Kit dealt with it by hating himself and locking himself in his room with loud music. It was Kit who could pull Ariana from training, who could get her to talk when she went mute. It was Ariana who could remind Kit about his good qualities and turn the music off. Kit knew he was lucky that the Armstrongs also supported mundane technology such as laptops and an internet connection so that his friend was as educated on pop culture as he was. It was also why she had silver hair and often wore cute outfits she had ordered online. The badass warrior was also a trendy fashion icon with a flourishing Instagram account. Kit heard the footsteps come down the porch steps and cross the fast cooling grass to them, they were light and quick so he knew it was Tessa. She knelt down on the other side of Ariana and touched her leg gently.

“Oh dear, that’s a lot of pain.” She said softly and with some help from Kit the two of them pulled her to her feet. 

“Jem just got off the phone with Mr and Mrs Armstrong and they have agreed to let you stay here tonight sweetheart. Why don’t you go and have a shower and get into Kit’s bed, we’ll bring you something to eat.” She said and all Ariana could do was nod weakly and stumble exhaustedly into the house and out of sight. Kit looked at his adopted mother and he smiled sadly at her. 

“She is suffering.” He said, stating the obvious. She nodded gravely and put her hand on his arm.

“She is yes.” She agreed. 

“When she is suffering she stops talking… it happens so suddenly. She just, switches off. Shuts down… one day she is going to disappear so far into herself that even I can’t bring her back mom.” He said, desperation and grief for that time welling inside him.

“That won’t happen honey, you can reach her. You can guide her back to the real world. You can’t blame her for retreating when it gets too hard.” Tessa said gently and kissed his sweaty forehead. Kit rubbed his eyes and sighed, he didn’t blame Ariana for disappearing inside herself when things were too much for her to handle, he knew how it felt and he had his own ways of doing much the same.

“What if she hurts herself?” He asked, glancing at the upstairs windows of the house towards the bathroom. 

“I think she might be too exhausted for that today. Besides, I don’t think she could do that to you.” Tessa said, drawing him towards the house. Her words had surprised him a little bit. Ariana and Kit had known each other for a year, and yes they had become close, but he didn’t think he had the power to keep someone safe from themselves.

“What do you mean?” He asked, sitting down on a barstool in the kitchen. Jem put a toasted ham and cheese sandwich in front of him and Kit nibbled on it unceremoniously; not because he wasn’t grateful for the food, but because he had trained and sweated all day and the thought of eating made him feel nauseated.��

“I mean that I don’t think she would hurt you by hurting herself. You’re the only person she believes in this world that cares for her, that loves her.” Tessa said. Her daughter burbled happily from the bouncing baby chair on the countertop, agreeing with Tessa it seemed. 

“You care about her, and so do the Armstrongs.” Kit protested, but Tessa brushed his wet hair off his forehead and shook her head.

“She doesn’t believe that. We’re older, we haven’t trained with her every day for a year. We haven’t laid on the grass talking about internet phases or complained about our studies with her. She depends on you Kit, and I am not telling you anything that you didn’t already know.” Tessa told him and Kit nodded, eyes downcast. He depended on Ariana too, to turn his music off and open his blinds. To make him smile, to make him laugh even, and they had navigated this past year together in the wake of losing people that they loved. The only difference was Ariana had lost people to death, and although Kit had lost some to that as well, some were still living. Even though Kit had tried to think of them as dead to him, the Blackthorns existed in his mind no matter how hard he tried. 

“I know.” He said and took another bite of the sandwich, “And Dad?” He added. Jem looked up from the stove with the smile he always wore when Kit called him dad.

“Yes?” 

“Thanks for the sandwich.” He said and Jem chuckled.

“You’re welcome. I figured you would be too tired and otherwise preoccupied to eat the stew with us.” He said, gesturing at the pot he was stirring, “Just eat that and see if you can get Ariana to eat one too.” He added and Kit nodded, chewing. 

After he had eaten, he picked up the plate with the second sandwich and said goodnight to his parents even though it was still a little bit light outside.

“Kit wait!” Tessa said and opened the fridge. She pulled out two bottles of Gatorade and handed them to him. He laughed and took them under his arm.

“I went and purchased those after lunch when you still hadn’t stopped. Drink these, one for Ariana, and draw some iratzes and nourishment runes okay?” She said and kissed his forehead again, “Just in case you are hurt.” She added and Kit nodded. 

“Thank you, goodnight, I love you!” He said and walked up the stairs with their choruses following him. Ariana was sitting on Kit’s bed in a pair of old pyjamas she had pulled from the drawer of her belongings in his room. The two had often gotten caught out at each other’s houses plenty of times before relenting and leaving some belongings behind. Kit placed the bottle and the sandwich on the bedside table closest to her and then put the other bottle on the other one.

“I’m going to go and shower, when I get back I want half of that sandwich eaten okay?” He said firmly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t acknowledge him, her brown eyes haunted. He swallowed his sigh, grabbed his pyjamas and a towel, and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

When he emerged in his room, clean, dressed and hair weakly towel dried, he found Ariana sitting against the pillows, sandwich exactly half gone and some of the Gatorade had been drunk. He felt relief flood his body and he smiled at her. She didn’t smile back, but her eyes tracked his movements as he hung up his towel, turned his laptop off, plugged his phone in, turned on the lamps and then brushed his hair. When he finally sat down after turning the room light off, she was looking at her hands folded neatly atop her lap. He gently pulled her until she moved herself, facing the window away from him. He brushed her long, wet tangled hair gently, humming to himself. He’d done this for her before, looked after her when she hadn’t done simple things for herself, when she had shut down. The next day she had thanked him and cried, and although he wasn’t looking forward to the tears he was relieved when she felt something, felt anything at all. He badly plaited it like Tessa had taught him and clumsily tied it up with the hair tie from her wrist before moving her back against the pillows. She slid down until she was lying on her back and before he covered her with the blankets, he drew an iratze and a nourishment rune on her bicep. He lay down with her after turning off the lamps, and the room was nearly completely dark, only spots of light coming from charging electrical items. 

“Are you going to talk to me?” He asked finally and she shook her head.  “Come here then.” He said and she put her head on his shoulder. They lay like that for a while, Kit feeling the exhaustion in his entire body, but not yet ready to sleep. Lying like this reminded him of why Mr Armstrong had asked Kit when he was going to ask Ariana out on a date. He had been too surprised to answer, but it had been Ariana who said, “He loves someone else Sir, do not expect him to ask me out. I certainly don’t. Besides, one day we could be parabatai and then that would just make things complicated.” It had made Kit smile to think of them as parabatai, but the rest of the sentence had distressed him. He had never told Ariana that he had loved someone before moving, he hadn’t told anyone. 

“Tell me.” She whispered into the darkness and Kit frowned, still staring up at his ceiling. He was glad she was talking, but he didn’t know what she wanted. “Tell you what?” He asked. 

“About him.” She replied and Kit sucked in his breath. He knew what Ariana meant. How she knew about Kit’s unresolved feelings, or why she wanted him to talk about them, he didn’t know. 

“About… about Ty?” He whispered and she nodded against his arm.

“I want to hear about nice things, lovely things. And you don’t think anything is lovelier than him.” She said and Kit’s breath escaped him in a soft laugh.

“That is true…” He relented. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking of Tiberius Nero Blackthorn. A vision of him flashed across his closed eyes and he decided to start with that story.

“I looked at the boy with the knife to my throat, the boy whose black eyelashes feathered down against his cheekbones as he glanced away from me, and I felt something like a shock of recognition pass through me. I thought, how beautiful…”

#kit #ty #kitty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tiberius blackthorn #christopher herondale #tid #tda #tmi #tsc #kitty tsc #kit x ty #oc #one shot #headcanon #fanfic #short story

[titsthedamnseason]

I just read your "Julian's birthday" headcanon and you can BET im crying rn and yet two seconds later in your asks for an "Emma's birthday" one. Because in LM it always said how she respected she isn't a Blackthorn, and that they aren't related, but now that she's dating Julian and even before that she's always been family but doesn't expect them to go all out for her birthday and help! im emotional---

okay im here bc we are in late feb - early march aka: any day now could be emma’s bday!! catch me crying in the club okay here we go

julian’s birthday

so her first birthday dating julian was spent on their travel year in mexico

she got to spend it with julian and cristina––her two best friends so she was really living for it

they had a great day and went out for dinner and such

full swing celebration and presents and lowered legal drinking age

she loved every second of it

in the past, she had never really wanted to impose on the blackthorns 

even though they always had parties for her, and got presents, and made a big deal, she was always saying how they didnt have to 

and plus sometimes she got sad that her parents werent around

but once she starts dating julian it’s full swing ahead she is officially allowed to make demands of him and you bet your ass she does

her birthweek is a thing and she lets no one forget it

she also never fails to bring up her half birthday, more as a joke than anything, but julian loves her and so he does actually start giving her half birthday presents and they both kind of want to hate it but at the same time no theyre too in love to really care

anyway her birthday is her favorite excuse for everything 

“dru, please come to the store with me”

“no”

“but my birthday is coming up!”

“it’s in two months!”

dru goes anyway

no one can forget her 21st birthday 

like of course emma had been drinking way before then and it’s not like she hadnt had a few drinks in front of the fam before but this is another story

she makes julian drive her around all day so she can purchase her own alcohol from literally anywhere she can

she proudly and drunkenly whips out her newly acquired mundane id in every bar to prove her age

she buys grocery store wine just because she can

by the time julian gets her back at the institute for her actually party she is so far gone

she is babbling on and on to julian as he is basically just carrying her up the stairs trying not to laugh at her

she looks down to see what she’s wearing and is so pleasantly shocked to find her favorite dress

she keeps asking julian where it’s from and if she can keep it - it’s just stupid shit like that all day

anyway they go through the door to find everyone waiting in the entryway

the blackthorns, cristina, diana, kieran, the carstairs fam, the tmi crew, etc etc

emma immediately lets go of julian, swaying only slightly, and proceeds to hug as many people as she can

“jace! why are you here??”

“it’s your birthday”

“oh yeah! hahahahaha-MAGNUS HI WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE”

“oh hello emma”

clary gives her a birthday crown and she nearly cries

diana is trying to communicate with julian over the huge crowd, because: “it isnt even 6:30 yet are you serious”

julian only shrugs with a smile and tells everyone to go upstairs for dinner

emma is telling a slightly terrified looking jem a story that is somehow louder than every other conversation happening

at one point julian, cristina, and mark are sitting and talking, emma next to julian, playing with the straw in her wineglass, oblivious to the conversation until she hears 

“no one is getting any tonight, emma is way too drunk”

she drops her wineglass

she vows to slow down but she also tells julian to ‘chug chug’ to catch up so theyll be even aswedxcrfv

anyway by the end of the night everyone had so much blackmail on her she never lives it down

but okay moving on

especially in the years immediately after the events of tda emma gets so touched by the blackthorns doing so much for her birthday

because it just showed that all those years it wasnt just for julian’s sake or because she lived with them 

it was because they cared about her and it really shows through how seriously they still take celebrating even when her and julian move out and how as they get older and can buy her things on their own their gifts are really thoughtful and not cheap or anything

emma learns over the years that her favorite way to spend her birthday is just with her closest friends and family and that as long as julian is there she doesnt really mind

she might start to stray away from big parties as she gets older but she never lets up on presents

she will tell you if your gift is bad and will remind you of it forever 

once diego mailed her a scarf that he’d thought was so pretty but emma thought was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen and she just mailed it right back with ‘i live in la. try again’ written on it

diego jokingly gives emma and julian a tablecloth with the same pattern on top of their actual wedding gift and him and julian cant stop laughing but emma is NOT amused 

she straight up burns it on one of the torches and that was that

she also refuses to tolerate joint birthday parties with julian

whenever someone suggests it since their birthdays are so close and everyone is gathered together already she is adamant that they each need their own celebration and julian highkey agrees

they both just want the other to have a special day dedicated to them im not crying u are

also this is more about julian’s but she refuses for anyone to make the new year’s eve celebration double as julian’s party

julian spoils tf out of emma on her birthday

he just cant say no to her about anything on her birthday and he knows it, she knows it, everyone knows it

they say he’s too whipped but he’s just like ‘yeah. and what about it?’

one of emma’s favorite parts of her birthday is julian’s card to her, even more than the presents

he always writes her the sweetest and longest stuff and she always cries

she can only read them in private because it makes her feel so exposed

and one of emma’s favorite presents she’s ever gotten was for her 19th birthday

her first birthday spent in la with the blackthorns since being with julian

they all made her a scrapbook, starting with little infant emma and julian next to each other wrapped in matching blankets

them reaching out to each other at two years old from cribs on opposite sides of the room

five year old emma and julian dancing

and it’s just them growing up together

a singular page dedicated to them as parabatai, with photos from the ceremony, of them showing their matching runes, fighting together(emma just jokingly shakes her head at this page but she’s been crying since page 1 and this doesnt help)

then it’s finally pictures of them after the curse, on their travel year, cuddling together, goofy selfies

and the whole back is blank for them to keep adding and she BAWLS at that

emma cries every year on her birthday, the question just becomes ‘what will it be this year’

everyone places bets of course and sweet emma has no clue

kit wins basically every year and is known as the reigning champion

when emma does find out she doesnt tell anyone and just helps lead kit to further victory

julian makes her paintings every year of stuff to “wrap up her year”

he paints collages referencing the best, worst, funniest etc things that happened and she loves them

#i actually did it in time im proud asdfas #tda birthdays escapade #emma carstairs #blackstairs #tda #julian blackthorn #drunk!emma #a little #the blackthorn family #mine #my writing #tda hc #asks #emmacblackthorn

[cassandraclare]

q&a: Kieran

princekierz said:

Hi Cassie. This is about Lady Midnight, not Lord of Shadows, so I may be a little late but anyway. People who hate Kieran are constantly bringing up the fact that he tried to convince Mark that he being with his family again wasn't real in that note he sent him and I really can't understand why he did it? What was the true purpose of that note? Can you please tell me? I love Kieran, and I don't like when people are unfair with him. Thank you.

That's interesting -- I have to admit it never really occurred to me people would be confused by what that note meant/was about. The below contains spoilers but not major ones, so skip if you are avoiding even mild spoilers.

First I should say it’s fine to dislike a character. There is no character I have written or read about that someone hasn’t disliked for some reason. If that character is in a love triangle, multiply that by 100,000,0000000. (That may not be a real number but you get the point.) I’ve been thinking a lot about liking and disliking characters and the act of reading with empathy, which I will get to more at the end of this essay. Right now I’m just going to talk about what that note meant, and the way in which Kieran is a complicated sort of character generally.

We read for lots of reasons. To see our own experience reflected (a "mirror" reading experience) and also to see experiences that are not ours. (A "window" experience.) One of the interesting things about seeing the judgements of Kieran is the expectation that he is meant to act like a mundane human being (one who has dutifully read not just many relationship-help tomes but also all the Shadowhunter books -- thanks, Kieran! -- and is well acquainted with the Blackthorns despite never having met them). At very least, he is expected to act like a Shadowhunter, and not at all like a Faerie – despite the fact that a Faerie is what he is, and as a Faerie, he is not like us. He does not have typical human cultural beliefs about love (in good and bad ways), or commitment — he doesn’t mind at all whether Mark has sex with other people — or what promises mean, or what is personal space (a ridiculous idea to a Faerie.)

Mostly what I've seen complaint-wise about Kieran is that he is manipulative, which is true only to the extent that he has grown up in Faerie, where everyone is manipulative. Because they cannot lie, they have created a complex society of misdirection and manipulation and Kieran, growing up as Prince, would have been raised in the heart of that. He would know no other way to behave, and indeed has only been learning, slowly, different human patterns of behavior. He is actually really terrible at being manipulative — not a patch on Julian, for instance — and mostly he is neither good at it nor does it that often. But we can certainly look at what he has done.

So, on to the note and the vague six words it contains. (I don’t really understand what “he tried to convince Mark that he being with his family again wasn't real” means, because Mark was obviously with his family and not, say, on a balloon tour of Cappadocia. I don’t think even the Seelie Queen would have tried to convince him otherwise, because that is not manipulation, that is waving your arms around yelling “Mark! They're dosing you with PCP! That's not really Ty! It's a huge bunny!" which is not going to work and nobody would reasonably think it would.) So I’m just going to gather that some sinister goal is being implied here and talk about why Kieran did send the note.

Remember that none of this is real. Why did Kieran say that? Because he was worried about Mark and thought it was the truth. Not for another reason. I gather there is an assumption that the phrase "remember that none of this is real" is somehow about Mark's family, but it wasn't. If Kieran had wanted to say “don’t trust your family” or whatever, he would have said that. The note was about the entire world of the Nephilim. Nor was it anything Kieran didn't entirely think was true.

Nor was he entirely wrong.

Kieran was cast out of the King's court because he was well-liked and the King saw him as a threat. He spent his years in the Wild Hunt with Mark watching as Mark's heart broke every single night when he counted out his family's names on the stars. He felt Mark's agony when Mark saw Simon, and thought Simon had come to bring him back to the Nephilim, only to find out the Shadowhunters had abandoned him like garbage. Experiencing the agony of someone you love is worse than experiencing your own. After living through the horror of Mark's despair and crushing loss, is it particularly surprising that Kieran might be wary of Mark getting attached to his family again only to be ripped away from them again -- which is in fact what pretty much everyone in Lady Midnight thought was going to happen? Like, nobody thought this majorly fuckerated offer from the Fair Folk was likely to have a good outcome? Julian was terrified what it meant for the kids and thought it might be better if Mark had never come back? Kieran is unlikely to have a more positive view of the kindliness and honestly of the Clave (or the Courts of Fae) than Julian does.

Here is what Kieran knows to be fact:

Shadowhunters hate Faeries.

Mark was abandoned by his people. The Nephilim, certainly, his family, perhaps. Kieran knows they never tried to get in touch with Mark, and he is unaware of the Blackthorns' complicated circumstances, that they were forbidden to look for Mark, and that they needed to protect Helen. There is no way he would know about those things, unless he had read the books. (Read the books, Kieran!).

He knows the Shadowhunters have enacted the Cold Peace, a series of racist laws punishing Faeries. He knows Mark will be in danger from this.

He has no reason not to think that when Mark is returned to the world of the Nephilim, using his family as bait, they won't chop his damn head off.

That is what Kieran is urging Mark not to think is real. Nephilim promises. The idea that he will be safe outside Faerie in the Shadowhunter world. And Kieran is not exactly wrong either. We are all glad that Mark is back with his family....and if the Cohort gets into power they might chop his damn head off. Maybe he would have been better off back in the Wild Hunt.

Kieran can't lie -- and he can't lie in writing either. He said what he said in his note because he was frightened for Mark, and he wanted him to stay safe. In no way did he mean "Your family doesn't love you," because if he thought that, he would actually have said it at some point, ever, rather than being incredibly vague in a note that, since he has never said anything remotely like "Your family doesn't love you" to Mark, Mark would find incomprehensible. Mark understands the note perfectly, because the idea that Nephilim as a group are not trustworthy is not new to him nor is it a huge surprise Kieran would feel that way. (There’s also a lot of numinous stuff to get into about what real and unreal means to faeries, in a magical sense, but there’s no room here, alas.) Kieran has lots of opportunities to say bad things to Mark about his family if he wanted to, but IIRC he never does.

Misguided is not the same as manipulative. To be manipulative means that you're playing on someone else's hopes or fears to achieve selfish ends without regard for their well-being. But the idea that Kieran is a cold-hearted bastard who didn't mean a word of the note (despite not being actually able to lie) and is a consummate actor doesn't really jibe with anything we actually know or observe about Kieran. Far from having Julian's ability to play others like guitar strings, mostly Kieran blurts out what he means when he means it and never even tries to pretend otherwise. He can be petulant as hell and annoying, showing up to see Mark when he's not supposed to and sulking about whether Mark likes someone else. He can be manipulative in the way he sometimes kisses Mark when Mark is trying to be logical because he's insecure and he trusts Mark's desire for him even when he can't convince himself Mark really loves him (but this doesn’t really work, which is what I mean by Kieran not being great at manipulation). He very foolishly interferes with Mark’s dream in Lord of Shadows because he wants to talk and he thinks giving Mark a dream in which they’re having a friendly conversation means he’ll find out what Mark’s hiding. (Which is another example of him not really understanding human issues. All he wants out of the dream is a talk — “Because you are not truthful with me. Your heart is closed and shrouded. I cannot see it,” Kieran said. “I thought, in dreams, perhaps . . .” — and the dream starts out with them sitting and talking while one bandages the other, and Kieran manages to get in the idea that he knows Mark is lying to him. Things take a sexy turn, but not because of Kieran. He can’t control Mark’s dreams in every detail: if he could, there would be literally zero point in a dream in which he’s hoping Mark will volunteer to tell him the truth. Mark has to have free will in the dream or there’s no point in what Kieran straight-up says the dream is for, and again, Kieran cannot baldfacedly lie. And Kieran is right — Mark is lying to him, in fact the whole family is gaslighting him, which is why it pains Mark when Kieran recalls the phrase “remember that none of this is real.” Because none of it, in this case, IS REAL. Kieran is being lied to by EVERYONE. However, Mark is still right that Kieran shouldn’t be poking at his dreams — and he shouldn’t. Kieran, as a faerie, doesn’t really get that: dreams aren’t private to him, and besides, Mark has allowed Kieran into his dreams before, so Kieran assumes it’ll be okay now, because Mark said it was all right previously. But this is where Kieran needs to learn not to make assumptions, and to value Mark’s privacy even if he doesn’t really get it. Does he? He seems to: he listens to what Mark says, and he never touches his dreams again. In fact, they actually have a pretty useful, healthy conversation about it, though we have to wait until QoAD to see how any breakthroughs they make in LoS play out.)

So yes, Kieran can make spectacularly bad decisions, with the worst of them being when he thought getting Mark hauled back to the Wild Hunt for an infraction was a good idea and wouldn't result in any collateral damage. And Kieran deserves to be blamed and to feel guilty for that, nor do I mean to excuse him -- and I have no interest in doing that; that wrong that he did is a building block of his flawed character. As I saw someone say on twitter the other day, which probably means you've all seen it many times, characters are not all either angelic cinnamon rolls or problematic monsters. Like people, because they are intended to reflect people, they exist on a continuum of behavior: some fail and learn, some fail and never learn, some have good intentions and some bad, some grow and change, some are changed by grief or shock or maturity, some cannot grow and are tragic figures. Committing a manipulative act doesn't damn you forever unless you keep committing manipulative acts forever. If people (and characters) were rendered garbage by past mistakes, there would be no need for therapy or books, since both are about how people learn to change.

As Kieran says: "Everyone is more than one thing. We are more than the single actions we undertake, whether they be good or evil." That was in Lady Midnight, and it's possible he was thinking about the fact that he never tells Mark in that book that the reason he wanted Mark brought back to the Wild Hunt so badly -- the reason he turned Mark in, hoping he'd be dragged away from the world of Nephilim -- was not so that he could date Mark, but because he had been told Mark was going to be murdered. That Mark's head was going to be chopped off NOW. That doesn't excuse his behavior, but it makes it a lot less manipulative in two ways: he actually wasn't acting for a selfish end, but to protect Mark from death, and he never tells Mark that in LM, letting Mark blame him. He lets Mark break up with him and walk away from him with only quiet resignation as a reply. He does nothing to try to make him stay and attempts no manipulation at all, nor is he manipulative when he shows up to help save Tavvy -- he offers help, gives it, and expects nothing in return. Only when Kieran is in shock over having been lied to, and his sudden recollection of his own mistakes, does he tell Mark that he was in fear for Mark's life -- which makes a big difference to Mark, who is able to recognize what that means about why Kieran did what he did.

[Kieran said] “Iarlath had hinted you would not be safe in the Shadowhunters’ world. That they were planning to lure you back, only to execute you on some trumped-up charge. I was a fool to believe him. I know it now.”

“Oh,” said Mark. The knowledge unfolded in him, realization edged with relief. “You thought you were saving my life.”

Kieran nodded. “It makes no difference, though. What I did was wrong.”

(Emphasis mine.) Kieran is flawed, he screws up. He is also capable of acts of great nobility -- his willingness to testify to protect the Blackthorns at the end of LOS being one of them. Kieran spends LOS being lied to and manipulated by everyone around him while his memory is gone. He is trapped in the Institute, a place so full of anti-Faerie magic that it makes him so sick he can barely eat. He suspects Mark is jerking him around in some way, he turns out to be right, and he's still willing to testify in the Blackthorns' defense. He is also able to see when he is/was wrong, and acknowledge it. None of this makes him a perfect person, but it certainly complicates him away from the oversimplified reading that he's a manipulative horrorshow and that's the end of the story — especially when a huge chunk of the story has yet to be told.

My suspicion, since there are plenty of other flawed characters in these books stumbling along messing up, is that Kieran's true crime is being part of a love triangle. Having been through this before I remember well the long essays about how Will was a horrible person and the Wessa relationship was toxic and Jem was a horrible person and that relationship was toxic because dying people should know not to bother other people with their feelings (seriously). That is how people talk about love triangles these days; it seems to be a contest about which relationship is perceived as healthiest, which people are the best and most deserving people of the prize (Tessa, or in this case, Mark). There are a couple problems with that: one that is an unhealthy relationship can become healthy. (It obviously depends on the relationship, some absolutely cannot and should not be fixed, but there would be little need for marriage counselors if relationships could not be made healthier.) The second is that if you want to hate a character, you can convince yourself they are evil even if they spend a whole book saving bunnies, nuns, and salmon who can't find the salmon cannon, so the arguments do get a bit circular after a while. Certainly I have come across plenty of essays about how Cristina is terrible and should go away because Kieran doesn't like her (he does like her) and Mark doesn't want her (not true) and she isn’t so great (I think she is so great and so do they.)

So I will say three things:

1) Kieran is not what is keeping Mark and Cristina apart, any more than Cristina is what is keeping Mark and Kieran apart. Kieran and Mark have a relationship that needs to be worked on to be healthy, and Cristina and Mark have to get to know each other better outside the magic of the binding spell. These things would be true regardless.

2) I know that this essay will garner plenty of people announcing that this means I ship Mark and Kieran or am in love with Kieran, and I know this because this happens whenever I post anything about them, or a piece of fanart of them, even if I post a piece of fanart of Cristina and Mark shortly after. I can only say what I have said for ten years, which is that I don’t ship my own characters or “love” them in the way a fan loves a character — all the characters are pieces of myself in some way or other so that’d feel very odd. I know there may be other authors who feel differently, but I can’t “ship” a couple when I’m primarily interested in their relationships in terms of theme, craft and writing the best story I can — I need the distance of being a reader, not a writer, to “ship” something. (I would also note that male authors rarely ever have people talk about how they’re in love with their characters or they write about them because it’s a “fetish” or “they get off on it”: only women get that narrative, but that’s another post.)

3) I remember reading online that writers should write with "savage empathy." I've always thought that was great advice, as it reminds us to always stay in sympathy with characters and write from a place of their humanity, in all the vastness of humanity’s capability for complexity: for the same person to be capable of immense selfishness and immense nobility, or deep gentleness and great cruelty. It reminds us that we strive to reflect what is human rather than what is either entirely perfect or entirely evil. I feel like it's also been good advice for me as a reader. It reminds me to look at things from the characters' point of view, to not expect them to know what I know,* to remember the circumstances of their lives and the ways in which they may behave differently than I would because of the way they were raised/what their culture prioritizes. It has helped me be less judgmental of characters and while I don't think it's made me unaware of the problematic, I think it's made me a happier reader. Even when I don't forgive, I can understand, and that reminder of the eternal complexity of the human soul, and its capability for change and redemption, has enriched my reading life. It’s wonderful to realize that you can enjoy reading even more than you did before, and I can only hope for the same for all my readers.

*This is why it is pointless to be angry at the Superhero’s girlfriend when he is off saving the city, and you know he is off saving the city but she doesn’t, so she’s just angry he didn’t make it to little Marcia’s bat mitzvah.

#kieran hunter #kierark #kierarktina #los #lord of shadows #spoilers #tda #writing

[preservationandruin]

Oathbringer Liveblog: Part Two. Chapters 33-37

Sorry for the delay, gang! Life has been busy and I haven’t had time to keep up my reading and liveblogging at the same pace. But! I should be able to get at least some out now. 

Shallan gets a lecture, Dalinar has a conversation, Kaladin chats with his men about their lives and also starts training them; we have a Dalinar flashback, and a Rock POV. 

Just at the beginning, we have actually-accurate drawings of Urithiru, ,and the letter that will be this chapter’s epigraphs is addressed to Cephandrius, who--I believe--is Hoid. Whoever’s writing it calls him “Dearest Cephandrius,” which is either someone being sarcastic or someone who likes Hoid much more than most other characters who know him. 

Anyway, Shallan is reacting to the fact that Jasnah is alive. She also refers to what she did as “grope an eldritch spren,” which is pretty hilarious. 

Jasnah claimed to always look at things from a logical perspective, but she had a flair for the dramatic to rival any storyteller. 

That’s because she’s a Kholin and, as we all know, drama runs in their bloodline like blue and purple eyes and Alethi dark hair. And again, every time Shallan looks at Jasnah is a Relatable Bisexual Mood: 

Storms. She was perfect. A curvaceous figure, tan Alethi skin, light violet eyes, and not a hint of aberrant color to her jet-black hair. Making Jasnah Kholin as beautiful as she was brilliant was one of the most unfair things the Almighty had ever done. 

SAME, Shallan. And of course, Jasnah sees this return as a teaching moment. Jasnah also tells Shallan that fabrials are, essentially, made by imprisoning spren. Also, when Shallan starts sarcastically talking back to her Jasnah smiles. I think she missed her over-inquisitive sarcastic ward. And Jasnah has run into Kaladin, once--kinda sad we missed that encounter. Shallan also is heartened, kind of, by the fact that Jasnah too has no idea what she’s doing. 

The letter mentions that the writer, among other things, notices Hoid’s “many intrusions into my land.” That’s interesting--implies whoever wrote this is some sort of ruler over an area. A Shard, or just a king of some sort? Hard to say. 

Anyway, over to Dalinar. He’s having his meeting with Queen Fah in the storm. He’s showing her the Knights Radiant saving people--the vision with the family that Dalinar got in the first book. Also,  a rare moment of philosophy from the Stormfather as Dalinar asks about the place of endless white stone where they talk: 

I IMAGINED IT, the Stormfather said more softly,  as if he were admitting something embarrassing. ALL THINGS HAVE A SOUL. A VASE, A WALL, A CHAIR. AND WHEN A VASE IS BROKEN, IT MIGHT DIE IN THE PHYSICAL REALM, BUT FOR A TIME ITS SOUL REMEMBERS WHAT IT WAS. SO ALL THINGS DIE TWICE. ITS FINAL DEATH IS WHEN MEN FORGET IT WAS A VASE, AND THINK ONLY OF THE PIECES. I IMAGINE THE VASE FLOATING AWAY THEN, ITS FORM DISSOLVING INTO NOTHINGNESS. 

This has some interesting larger implications, too. Much as the cognitive form of the vase sticks around when its broken...the Stormfather is almost the same thing in regards to Honor, you know? A Cognitive Shadow. Is one of the things keeping the Stormfather “alive” the fact that people think of him as the Almighty? 

Anyway, Dalinar has taken the place of one of the radiants, the female one in amber shardplate. He isn’t in Shardplate, though, and is wondering about the differences between Radiant Shardplate and Normal Shardplate. So am I, to be honest. Anyway, he’s trying to fish for information about it, but Stormy dissuades him. 

“How,” Dalinar whispered to the Stormfather. “How do we get the armor?”  Speak the Words. “Which words?”  You will know or you will not.  Great. 

Anyway, he meets up with Queen Feh, and they start talking. She points out that it sounds like bullshit that the Almighty would pick Dalinar--”a tyrant and a murderer”--to lead the knights Radiant,  and it hits Dalinar pretty personally because, well, it’s right. 

“Maybe all the good men are dead, so all you have is me!” 

Anyway, Feh is pleased that Dalinar is honestly shouting at her, rather than being tactful and diplomatic. Also, she points out that the vision--which the Stormfather has paused--is really creepy. And Dalinar realizes--the way he was acting, the way he was eerily calm over the spanreed--it made him seem like he was in league with the Voidbringers. 

Dalinar also points out that he learned one important thing--he learned that if he talks to Feh by being himself, she listens more easily. 

Bridge Four, now! Have I mentioned I love Bridge Four. Sigzil was having that nightmare where you’re about to take important tests but you forgot how to read. Lopen is using the fact that Kaladin is back--and, thus, that they’re squires again--to walk upside down on the ceiling. Lopen also uses the nickname “hooch” to refer to Sigzil but refuses to explain what it means. 

Sigzil also reveals that he didn’t pass the important tests, got himself into trouble, and Hoid ended up rescuing him. That’s an interesting note. And then somehow he ended up a slave on Sadeas’ least lucky bridge crew. 

Sigzil found Kaladin doing morning push-ups on the stone floor. His blue jacket was draped over a chair.  “Sir,” Sigzil said.  “Hey, Sig,” Kaladin said, grunting as he continued doing push-ups. “Are the men up and mustered”“  “Up, yes,” Sigzil said. “When I left them, they seemed bordering on a food fight, and only half were in uniform. 

Have I mentioned I love Bridge Four. 

“And then there’s the matter of Drehy...”  “What matter?”  “Well, he’s been courting a man, you see...”  Kaladin threw on his coat, chuckling. “I did know about that one. You only now noticed?”  Sigzil nodded.  “It’s Dru he’s been seeing, still? From the district quartermaster’s offices?” 

Listen, this segment means a lot to me. it’s just...it’s very important to me that one of the guys in Bridge four is seeing another guy, and everyone’s cool with that, and Kaladin is invested enough in his mens’ happiness to know who the guy is and where he works. It might be stupid to be tearing up about this, but if that’s stupid, well, I’m stupid. 

I’m just so tired of worlds where people like me just don’t exist that any one where they do is deeply moving. 

Also Sigzil drops a cryptic reference to “you know what Teft’s gotten into” which knowing Teft could be, well, literally anything. Anyway, as they keep going Lyn joins them, mentioning that the “unusual request” Kaladin wanted has been filled, and Kal says he’s been noticing that she’s been trying to work with Bridge Four. He asks her to join--she’s hype--and then she realizes that he means as a scribe and just wilts.

LET! LYN! FIGHT!

Sigzil finds himself wanting to punch Kaladin, just a little. And literally repeats Kaladin’s same speech about trying to understand what people actually want out of life back to him and Kal is suitably abashed. And he has gotten his hands on a massive amount of gems, so they can practice being Radiants. 

Blackthorn Flashback! 24 years ago. Evi sometimes has Vasheresque idiomatic translation problems: “the life will be as white as a sun at night!” 

Anyway, Evi is pregnant with Adolin! She and Dalinar are watching the flamespren--she sees it as playing, Dalinar as sparring, and Evi points out that she knows how much Dalinar lived for fighting, and she doesn’t like it. And Dalinar at the very least knows he doesn’t deserve her--good, at least he’s got that straight. Evi is amazing and Dalinar, at this point? A train wreck. He’s still in love with Navani, and notes that he and Navani and Gavilar stayed up talking together--Navani was so interested in what she was doing, but Gavilar ignored her. 

None of these marriages are going great, it seems. And Evi mentions that if you want to change who you are you have to go “petition the One in the Valley.” the Nightwatcher. She seems to refer to her as an aspect of the masculine Almighty, but it suggests that the “Almighty” worshipped in Iri and Rira might be Cultivation. Anyway, Gavilar has shown up. 

Apparently, Rathelas, where Dalinar won Oathbringer, is demanding the Blade back, because he “never won it in a fair contest” and the heir returned. 

...Dalinar couldn’t bring himself to kill the child, could he. He took the Blade but left the boy alive. The Thrill vanished when confronted with a crying child. 

Interesting. I remember how, in Mistborn, being confronted with someone--usually someone young--pleading for their life or, more often, the life of someone else broke Ruin’s influence. Anyway, Evi is so proud that Dalinar spared the baby boy--he gave him to his mother and told her to hide him. 

This. This makes me so happy. Dalinar didn’t kill a child. I mean, he was still a butcher and murderer. But there was a line, there. And Dalinar is happy that, just in this moment, Evi sees him as a hero. 

Over to Bridge Four, again! And an alarming note in the letter: 

You mustn’t worry yourself about Rayse. It is a pity about Aona and Skai, but they were foolish--violating our pact from the very beginning. 

a) Aona and Skai literally died and you’re saying it’s just a “pity” that Rayse murdered them? Wow, asshole b) our pact. Implying that this person is a Shard or something on a similar level of power. 

Anyway, we’re over to Numuhukumakiaki’aialunamor, better known as Rock. Turns out his Horneater nickname is Lunamor. He is making stew back out on the Shattered Plains, and is surprised to realize that he kind of missed them. Renarin is working the Oathgate nearby. They’re training along with some others, including five female scouts. 

Let! Them! Fight!

Anyway, Teft has been gone for a while--he didn’t come back last night. That’s not great. Huio, one of the cousins, is helping Teft cook--he makes a chance to the drinks, Rock is SCANDALIZED, but...it turns out delicious. Bridge Four is pioneering fusion cuisine here. Lopen has accidentally stuck himself to the ground entirely. 

“Just part of the plan, gon!” Lopen called back. “If I am to become a delicate cloud upon the sky, I must first convince the ground that I am not abandoning her. Like a worried lover, sure, she must be comforted and reassured that I will return following my dramatic and regal ascent into the sky.”  “You’re not a king, Lopen,” Drehy said. “We’ve been over this.” 

We’ve been over this. How many times do I have to say I love Bridge Four before the words come anywhere close to conveying my affection for them? It is a mystery.

Kaladin: Rock, do you think you use the term “airsick lowlander” too much Rock: [looks over to where Lopen is STILL stuck with stormlight to the ground, sweet-talking it] Rock: No. 

Rock also invites them all to come visit the Horneater peaks. Anyway, Elhokar has shown up. Kaladin has agreed to reclaim Alethkar and the capital with Elhokar, provided he has a few more weeks to train. Also, Rock finds the old bridge itself--the Bridge of Bridge four. Rock also points out that while he was a soldier once, he always--always--loved being a cook. 

He closed his eyes, kneading and humming his mother’s song to a beat he could almost, barely, just faintly hear. 

Your friendly reminder that Horneaters have Listener blood; seems like some of them, at least, haven’t lost the Rhythms. And when Renarin approaches, Rock yells over to ask him to help with the bread. Interestingly, though, Rock can’t see Glys. Perhaps...he’s just really shy? 

“That one, he will never hold spear again. He will not fly, but he  is Bridge Four. I am forbidden to fight, but I am Bridge Four. And you, you might have fancy title and different powers.” He leaned forward. “But I know Bridge Four. And you, Renarin Kholin, are Bridge Four.” 

And that gets Renarin talking--talking about how everyone always wanted him to be an ardent, because look, he was smart, and look, he was so bright--but he knew that what they were really saying was “wow, you’re not as strong as Adolin” and “wow, it would be great for the line of succession if the sickly one couldn’t inherit.” 

“When you say these things, you are almost not bitter!” Lunamor said. “Ha! Much practice must have been required.”  “A lifetime.” 

HUG RENARIN KHOLIN 2K17

Renarin says he feels like the oddest of them--Rock points to Rlain, Renarin startles and says he’s not sure if Rlain counts (just like Renarin isn’t sure he himself “counts” as Bridge Four) and Rock says, yeah. That’s what everyone tells him. So Renarin goes and sits with Rlain. 

Rock notes that one of his ancestors apparently met an Unmade, but doesn’t elaborate. That’s alarming. And we also get to see all the little ways Rock makes Bridge Four keep working--calming people down, listening, getting them to teach him things when they’re not confident. 

And then Rock sees a group of “strong gods” like Sylphrena gathered around a tall spren woman with long hair, watching the training squires. It’s the most he’s seen, anywhere. Anyway, Syl comes over to talk to him--she mentions that the woman, the large one, is Phendorana, some sort of leader who called her out for searching out Kaladin. 

Apparently, the other honorspren are seeing whether or not anyone in Bridge Four are worthy of being full Radiants. Rock walks back, and sees Hobber--the one whose legs were paralyzed by Szeth--trying desperately to draw out Stormlight from a sphere. 

And he can feel his toes again! Everyone tows all of their gemstones over. 

And then they find a raided caravan--but one of the Voidbringers who did it was brought down. By an unkalaki arrow. 

Lunamor looked to the right, where someone had piled up furniture in a heat, almost like a fortification. A head poked over the top, a stout woman with a round face and a deep red braid. She stood up tall and raised a bow toward Lunamor. Other faces peeked out from behind the furniture. Two youths, a boy and a girl both around sixteen. Younger faces from there. Six in total.  Lunamor dashed toward them and found himself blubbering, tears streaming down his cheeks as he crawled up the outside of their improvised fortification.  His family, at long last, had arrived at the Shattered Plains. 

ROCK’S! FAMILY!

IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM HE DESERVES THIS SO MUCH!!! His wife is Song (Tuaka’li’na’calmi’nor); the twins are Gift and Cord; the next son is also Rock (a different,  smaller kind); the third son is Star, the second daughter Kuma’tiki--a kind of shell not present in the lowlands--and the last daughter is also Song-- “Beautiful Song.” She’s only four--she doesn’t remember him. 

And Renarin,  with healing, managed to save several people’s lives. We also get that something is very wrong with the Peaks. Also, Rock notes that he’s been lying to some of the other men. For example--he’s not really a chef, according to their order of inheritance, it sounds like. It seems like all of his older brothers are dead, which would make him a leader. 

And Bridge Four does one last, final run with their bridge. They won’t need it, anymore--they’ll be flying. 

#oathbringer spoilers #stormlight archive liveblog #FUCK YEAH BRIDGE FOUR #dalinar voice: unite them #let lyn fight

[lxdyblackthorn]

I posted 3.635 times in 2021

226 posts created (6%)

3409 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 15.1 posts.

I added 629 tags in 2021

#secrets of blackthorn hall - 160 posts

#sobh - 159 posts

#tsc - 69 posts

#the shadowhunters chronicles - 61 posts

#the last hours - 45 posts

#kit herondale - 34 posts

#the infernal devices - 27 posts

#julian blackthorn - 26 posts

#emma carstairs - 24 posts

#will herondale - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 86 characters

#also he literally helped one of said blackthorns try to bring another one back to life

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

"In the middle of the snuggling and cuddling, Julian stopped and stared into my eyes with an intense look. I could tell he had something to ask me, and for a moment I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought."

you thought he was gonna propose? yeah me too, almost had a heart attack

337 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 17:00:10 GMT

#4

the way they could have all the answers to their questions if they had ONE (1) conversation with jem and tessa

452 notes • Posted 2021-10-11 16:39:40 GMT

#3

"so hey you can see ghosts right?

gf definitely alive"

this kILLED MEE

481 notes • Posted 2021-10-25 16:11:26 GMT

#2

honestly if i was tessa i'd be looking into kit's girlfriend as well

because back in 1903 when she wasn't paying attention one of her kids was emotionally manipulated for three years and the other one dated a ghost and brought him back to life

so considering kit's magical faerie powers and his closeness to the blackthorns... i'd be worried

838 notes • Posted 2021-09-13 19:07:28 GMT

#1

I've come to the conclusion that there are five categories of TSC men:

Simps: Will, James, Jesse, Jace, Julian

Chaotic Bisexuals: Matthew, Mark, Kieran, Kit

Pure sass: Gabriel, Alastair, Alec, Magnus

Sweethearts: Jem, Gideon, Thomas, Simon

Smart babies: Henry, Christopher, Ty

1013 notes • Posted 2021-09-06 01:47:32 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#the top tags are my entire brand #fun fact ab my top post: it was originally smth completely different

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

Johto!

(My home girl’s region! :D)

1. Which starter would I pick?-This is like Sinnoh but instead of me adoring them all my reaction is more,‘eh, alright.’ Out of them all I always end up going with Cyndaquil no matter how many times I tell myself Im gonna choose someone else. Idk, maybe it’s the eyes and the part of me that cosplays Italy can’t get over them. X3

2. Favorite Evolutionary line/pokemon?Ok when it comes to Johto there are alot of pokemon in it that I forget are from Johto. It’s partially due to there being few complete lines in this region, which is something that can’t be fixed now. However houndoom and houndour hold a special place in my heart. They most closely resemble my own dog, and it combines my two favorite types. Idc if it’s a mainstream choice, this is one line that is amazing. 👌

3. Least favorite evolution/pokemon?-Sunflora. Hands down because it ever so greatly triggers me. See my favorite flower is a sunflower. When I heard there was a sunflower pokemon I flipped in joy. I saw sunkern’s adorableness and gushed. When it evolved I adored the happy attitude. Then I found out how much it sucks in battle and felt my heart get crushed. When I say bad it has one of the worst stats in the whole series, and I know my muse is Karen, so yes I know her quote about fighting with your favorites, but when your favorite looses to a top percentage rattata it’s time to get a new favorite. Also they missed the chance to make a fire grass type. ;_;

4. Favorite gym leader/elite four?-Alot of the gym leaders in this region left an impression, and really interacted with the player. However Jasmine, and her precious pure self always makes me smile. I mean c'mon she’s one of the only people we’ve seen nickname their pokemon. Plus she calls it Amphy, like how a kid calls a teddy bear ‘teddy’. Then at the same time she also commands a giant metal snake that can snap you in half with one good hit. Bless this girl. Ok this next one I maybe a lil bias but um, Karen, duh. X3 Dark type was my favorite long before Karen came along, and btw I never played the original gold and silver so it took me awhile to meet her. When I saw her in the game and heard her quote I was like,“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!? WHY DIDN’T I GET TO INTERACT WITH YOU AT ALL IN THIS GAME!? HOLY FUDGE! You’re like…woah…” It was that same sense of awe I got when first meeting Cynthia though this chick had more edge. Then I found out about her crimminal side and I am sold on her as my favorite for eternity.

5. Favorite town/city?-Blackthorn, and half of the reason is due to that name. When I played HGSS I was going through my warrior cats phase and so this nake was everything. Tbh it still sounds like such an amazing name for a town. I mean it’s intense, causes emotion, and makes the place seem intense. Which it is. I mean it’s in the mountains, you have to scale a cliff to leave, and there is a cave called the den of dragons that has dragons. Can you imagine telling people that’s where you grew up!? Just introduce yourself as the person from Blackthorn and watch people awe over it, you win life bud.

6. Favorite non-town/city location?-Hint it’s a tower. No not the bell one, I’m talking the burned one. Idk why but exploring abandoned or grungy places is so much fun to me! It’s like an adventure, and you never know what could be in there! (Lol like legendary doggos x3) Plus this place is like falling apart and has all of this history! I would go nuts researching and taking in the details of the place! Finally I know some people hate the smell of campfires but it’s my favorite thing ever, so any burned wood smell would be like a bonus.

7. Side mechanic that distracted me from the main game.-The pokewalker was up until I accidentally washed it a week after getting the game. Yeah, lost an eevee that day. Anyway by far the pokeathalon sucked my attention away more than any other side mechanic in any other game. I loved that place cause it could make my wimpy pokemon (like Sunflora) great, and my already strong pokemon stronger. Also I believe it was the flag capture that I struggled the most with. Took me literal hours but I finally beat the record there and felt such victory getting to the final room.

8. Would I punch the main antagonist in the face?-I’m not gonna count Giovanni cause he wasn’t really a part of this except being someone they were trying to get back in the crew. As far as the antagonists go there’s four of them which makes it a bit harder. Also like I said they were just trying to get the band back together, it wasnt like they were going to destroy the world like alot of the other villians. So like the last one, if it was in the moment yeah I’d try to apprehend them, and punch if necessary. Though I wouldn’t say too much was at steak for anything too extreme. Also post game I think just talking to them all individually would be good. Not in a therapist way just a casual convo might go a long way.

9. Would I punch my rival in the face?-I probably would of tried to multiple times. Sorry Silver but stranger or not you stole a pokemon and broke a wall of someone’s prolerty. That’s kinda illegal. After kicking your butt in battle I’d try to arrest you. I mean if Elm later said it was chill, said you were free to keep the pokemon, and you two worked out some deal for the wall then I’d be cool with it. However knowing myself I would be focused on righting said wrong until it was handled. I mean maybe we’d befriend each other somehow while I’m nailing his face, but even then I’d encourage him to go handle the situation.

10. Rating of the game 1-10?….I am sorry Sinnoh fans but 8. Look, this isn’t nostalgia talking. I never played the original games so if anything I ought to have more nostalgia with Sinnoh. However I don’t because when it comes to games I look for story. Johto just felt as though it had a more complete story. The characters were engaging, and I could relate with them. There were so many quirks and twists that made it feel unique. Yeah ok the pokemon designs lack in evolutions, and style, but I prefer story to design. No the whole world wasn’t at steak. In all honesty the villians were more brutish than they were intimidating. Though I could follow their reasoning, and in some ways rooted that things did work out somehow for them. Plus the ties of different families with Clair & Lance, Janine & Koga, Silver & Giovanni, were all elements I enjoyed seeing. (Then there’s all the ones in the manga that I found out about later). It made the region seem more personal and tied together. Plus who didn’t love the calls from your mom, trainers, and yes even Joey. Though slightly repetitive it all helped bring the player into the world, and I love seeing that.

(Dont get me wrong though, we need another Sinnoh game first, then maybe a Unova or Kanto would be good.)

(And @evolutionexpert , tbh Elm is my favorite prof so nice. 👌 )

[carstairsdaily]

Lord of Shadows Review & Analysis! SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

On another note about spoilers, I get that seeking out spoilers as well as snippets, are a product of waiting so long for the next book… but I don’t know that I will treat them the same way going into QOAAD because I almost felt, while reading, that I had read 35% of the book already! I can’t promise that I won’t seek out spoilers or snippets, but I do hope that less are released over the next two years (I know that sounds ridiculous, but I would prefer a surprise!) With Regards to Individual Characters: • Emma: a feminist badass, growing into being the best shadowhunter of her time but not there yet. Her sarcasm and skill has improved since LM, and I literally laughed out loud during her POV’s and while reading her quotes. The scene with her and Diego and the fire ants= pure gold. Her scene with Manuel and calling out the cohort for being fascists= pure gold. • Julian: a sweetheart and I want to cry thinking about how much he has been through. I know “Dark Julian” has been referenced several times throughout the fandom but I really didn’t see too much of a change until- actually- the steamy scene with Emma where he demands that she calls him only Julian. Very sexy, very dark too. • Cristina: deserves better and I am dying for more of her POV’s. I am always amazed by her class and maturity. • Diego: not perfect. I am mad at him. • Kit: surprisingly likeable. I am so glad they included POV’s with him and Jace!! • Livia: underrated as hell, so sweet, so caring, so selfless, her charm and sarcasm= gold. • Ty: I AM SO GLAD WE ARE FINALLY STARTING TO SEE T Y B L A C K T H O R N AND HIS TRUE SELF-A M E N. • Dru- her crush on Jaime is fitting for a first crush and I’m glad he gave her the confidence to speak up. I want to hug her literally all the time. • Tavvy- irrelevant but cute. SHIPS: • I surprisingly loved Mark and Emma’s dynamic. Their relationship reminded me of a mundane high school sweetheart kind of relationship, because you can tell they absolutely care about each other, I just don’t see them as anything more than a bromance. I will however agree with the sentiment, "maybe in another life" because maybe, in another series, in another world, they would have been perfect for each other. • Kieran/Mark/Cristina: I find it significant that no choices were made in terms of canon relationships, which I interpret as a canon friendship because if any of them were going to be romantically involved, a decision would be made by now. I enjoy the friendship they have, I surprisingly forgave Kieran, but I do not expect any of the Blackthorns or Emma to forgive him also. His actions in QOAAD will definitely define how I feel about him going forward. • JEMMA: You all know I am 100% a Jemma shipper, but this time around I was glad that their relationship did not overshadow the rest of the book. I liked how private their relationship was, which is a funny word to use because people become more privy to it in LOS and because it was extremely private in LM, but the fact that they were literally in a different part of their country on their own made me all happy. • I am also glad that I got the B&N copy with the extra scene, which I waited to read because it is right after the ending of the book and I did not want to read anything after finishing LOS, lol. • Kitty: No canon romantic relationship yet, still very cute scenes… Ill talk about this in theories. • Kit/Livia: I am glad that Livvy’s first kiss was Kit, and not some random boy who won’t treasure the memory or look back and think “oh she was sweet, it’s a shame what happened to her”. Kit will always treasure the fact that he was Livia’s first kiss, and will cherish the friendship he had with her. It was platonic, but still special. I know people on tumblr were upset with this but I hope by the end of the book they understood. PROFOUND THINGS IN LOS • Lets talk about the fact that Emma Carstairs literally doesn’t cry….. but she cried over Julian literally 400 times in Lord of Shadows. If that doesn’t show you how much she literally loves that boy idk what will. • CLARY SHIPS JEMMA. During their conversation Clary literally says “who I pictured you with [not Mark or Cameron] doesn’t make sense….” This goes back to my question to CC about whether or not Simon knows about Jules and Emma, since he noticed something off during the parabatai ceremony. She responded “he knows something, he just doesn’t know what he knows”. I think the same applies to Clary, maybe she has even had premonitions about it, and that is so so significant. #jemmaisendgame • Kit and Livia and Ty’s friendship: so sweet and pure and is literally the reason why Kit decides to stay. How will Ty and Kit function without their third musketeer? • DRU & JAIME: Thank you Jaime for giving Dru the confidence to confront her family over her role as a Shadowhunter… but the witchlight you left behind that literally portals to another dimension: WTF? WHO IS ASH????? That scene is messed up because it is so short and therefore, subconsciously everyone looks over it because of how chaotic everything else is. I can’t help but feel like this is going to play a MASSIVE role in QOAAD. • Diana & Gwyn: Thank you CC for trans representation and a beautiful story. The fact that Gwyn accepts her wholeheartedly made my chest ache, and I hope that no one will use it against her please please please. • Jules & Emma’s Decision to tell the Inquisitor: Not sure why they did this tbh, but now that Robert is dead, what are their options??? Did he mark it down somewhere? Will they become so irrational that they consider the Seelie Queen’s offer? Livia’s Death • Months ago I received an anon message from someone about Livvy, which literally said that they felt something was going to happen to her and I completely dismissed it…. Thinking we haven’t seen enough of her storyline yet and it was too soon. I AM SO SORRY, and it’s literally all I have been thinking about for days. • Livia was so so selfless, down to her core, the last moments of her life were spent trying to save the people she loves. • I discussed with a mutual that the fact that Annabel did it was both cruel and also extremely fitting. • When you think about it, Livvy was the 21st century version of Annabel. From their appearance, which was remarkably similar, to the way that they treated outsiders taking refuge in their family (Livvy with Kit, Annabel with Malcolm) down to their deaths, both innocents killed trying to protect the ones they love. • The fact that the Mortal Sword shattered to me symbolized the end of the truth and trust within the Clave. • The amount of guilt that each character will carry following these deaths is heartbreaking… • i sincerely hope her death is not tossed to the side, discussed for 150 pages then only mentioned 4-5 times after that because she deserved better, the entire Blackthorn family did, and peace was completely ripped away from them Which brings me to my first theory: I believe there was a reason that Jessamine was introduced to TDA, not only to highlight Kit’s Herondale-ness, but also as a foreshadowing of another character who is not at peace, feels that there is unfinished business, and a group of people needing to be protected: Livia. Because it was made clear in the book that necromancy and raising the dead is forbidden, and because QOAAD takes place a week later, Livvy’s chances of being raised are very very very slim. I sincerely believe that she will come back, but not to life. It would be fitting of her to come back as a ghost (not at first but definitely later in the story) and for her to protect her family, and give Kit and Ty the OK to do whatever they want to do (whether its be a couple or become parabatai, or go to the Scholomance) More theories: • Though I predict a dark Julian, I do not predict a dark/irredeemable Julian, who digs himself into such a big hole that he can’t climb out of it. Remember he has two anchors: his family, and Emma… • The Rosales brothers, especially with their plans to overthrow the Cohort and fool Zara are going to play a massive role in QOAAD. • I think that Jemma are going to have to confide in Jem and Tessa, and they will end up helping Jules and Emma with the parabatai curse. I am also sure they will play a big role in the next book. • Unpopular Opinion: I do not think Clary will die. I know she thinks she will, but CC did say QOAAD is lighter (in regards to themes) than LOS, and I just do not think it would be a lighter book if Clary, a significant character, dies. I think she will become close to death, and people will become concerned, then she will tell Jace of her fears and say yes to his proposal. However, I could very well be wrong!! •i do predict the Cohort being in power for a short amount of time….. because they represent members of our society, I do not think they will be shut down so easily because that’s not realistic. Despite this, hope and love always win. I trust that this will remain true in the next book. • I do predict the end of the Cold Peace, it was never ever a good idea and no one likes it. • I predict that Drusilla will be a hero, now that her older sister has passed away and she has finally decided to step up as a Shadowhunter, I do not doubt that the role she plays will be significant, it just seems to be a reasonable underdog story. • Kitty: parabatai or lovers? An important decision, because Kit does reference his thoughts about being parabatai with Ty, and Ty finally says yes to being parabatai with Livvy. I think it’s a possible “that’s what Livvy would have wanted” trope, but I could also be wrong and think its about as equal of a chance of them becoming lovers. • Who will the new head of the LA Institute be? I sincerely doubt it will go to someone the Blackthorns do not know or trust. They have had so much taken from them, the Institute does not deserve to go next. Possibly Cristina? Will Jules or Emma be of age? Jem or Tessa following the end of the Cold Peace? We have to see! • ASH… I am just frustrated that we do not know more about him… I don’t even have a theory I just needed an excuse to talk about him again. Questions and Theories from my mutuals!!!!! • Anonymous: Its 3 am and I am literally just crying on my bed because of the book. ​ >> Relatable!! I cried hours after I finished because I was so sad. The ending really got me! • Anonymous: Do you think Jaime and Dru are endgame? She is 13 and hes like 17 but he thinks she’s 16. Idk, they seem to have a nice friendship but not a romantic relationship in my opinion.. ​ >> Agreed! I honestly think CC included this first crush idea as a way of introducing Dru’s further character development, not necessarily to introduce them as a couple… But also think about Cecily and Gabriel!!! They were about the same ages at the time, even though that was a different time period… anything is possible, but I do not ship them romantically! • VirginaNewman: I loved LOS, however I was indeed disappointed that Helen + Aline make a debut in the LAST chapter! ​ >> I definitely thought Helen and Aline would play a larger role in LOS, they were barely mentioned, barely had any scenes… I was disappointed by their small role too, but I am interested to see how hard they fight to stay in the next book. Ps- the scene where Aline basically tells Zara to shut her fucking mouth is GOLD. • Betweenshadesoftessagray- Since Robert’s dead, its going to be a race to get that spot, with probably Zara’s father trying to become Inquisior. And since Robert was the one who could help Emma and Julian with the exile thing, they really don’t know what to do with it. I think the powers will continue to grow, and since I think the main battle of QOAAd is going to be a battle where the warlocks and nephilim cannot use their runes/warlock magic, maybe their parabatai magic will still work and that’s how they win. I have already stated that I think there is going to be a battle in QOAAD without being able to use rune magic and the warlocks not being able to use their magic, but this didn’t fit in my other ask I just realized something that made my theory more solid: in the beginning, Zara says she went to Hungary because they were claiming their weapons were not working and she said it was incompetence, so the blight is already spreading not only in Idris but everywhere else. ​ >> This is such a well thought out theory and I wish I could give a formal response but I definitely need to go back, reread, and analyze this… I didn’t even realize the significance of Shadowhunters and warlocks including Magnus losing their powers!! Wow! Is this because of the Black Volume? I definitely think Emma and Julian’s parabatai/love powers will play a huge role in QOAAD and maybe even save the day during this second Dark War. Maybe that’s how they will become heros, their bond will be broken as a reward or something and everyone can live happier ever after? AHH! • Share your theories and thoughts in the comments below or inbox me (not on Anon so I can respond privately!!!)

#lord of shadows #lord of shadows spoilers #Los spoilers #Los #tda #the dark artifices #cassandra clare #spoilers #review #jemma #jace herondale #clary fairchild #julian blackthorn #jules and emma #emma carstairs #carstairsdaily #theories #blackthorn family #CC #tavvy blackthorn #ty blackthorn #kit rook #kit and ty

[tsc-living]

(So I changed it a bit... because it flowed easier for me. Instead of in England they’re fighting in LA. Sorry!!)

A couple of days after Tessa had told Kit about her first son James and the powers he had had, Kit asked Tessa if she would help him learn to master his as she had done for James. She had agreed, but warned him it may take them a long time as she didn’t have faerie powers, and they would have to learn together. Kit hadn’t cared; he was just thrilled and nervous that he had actual, literal powers like some sort of real life X-Man. The first thing Tessa had done was ask Kit what emotion his power was tied to, what the anchor was that let him use it.

“Anger.” He replied after a moment of thinking, “I was angry when the riders were attacking.” He explained. Tessa had looked disappointed momentarily, but she rolled with it. The two of them spent most mornings trying to harness his power, and within the year he could make small things disappear. By the end of the following year, big things could disappear at his will, and sometimes things could materialise as well, if he wanted it badly enough. All he had to think about was someone hurting his family, or think about something he personally had done wrong and had hurt someone else. He had to make himself angry.

It had been one morning when Tessa and Kit were practicing his magic in the backyard that Jem ran down the stairs with their daughter hurrying behind him on much smaller legs. He looked worried and when he reached them it was clear he was pale.

“Jem? What’s wrong?” Tessa asked, putting her hand on his chest over his heart.

“The Blackthorns,” He said and Kit’s blood ran cold, “They were out on patrol and were attacked. That was a fire message from Mark, he asked for reinforcements and sent the letter to every of age Shadowhunter to help.” Kit was running up the stairs to the small weapons cache the house in Devon had before Jem had even finished the sentence. He was zipping up his gear with one hand and grabbing a weapons belt with the other when Tessa burst into the room with Jem behind her, this time their daughter in his arms.

“Mom I need a portal!” He cried, clipping the belt on and Tessa shook her head.

“I haven’t created a portal in forever.” She said, looking absolutely terrified.

“I don’t care! You have to try Mom this is important! I have to help them!” He said, staring at her in shock. She had to open the portal, she had to let him through. It was the Blackthorns… Dru could even be in danger if they had let her patrol with them. And Ty- Kit didn’t even want to think about Ty in danger.

“You don’t even know where they are!” She argued, “You could get lost in limbo.” She said and Kit turned his gaze on Jem with raised eyebrows. He shifted awkwardly and nodded.

“They’re at the caves on the beach near the institute, a little past where Alec and Magnus got married a couple years ago.” He said.

“Mom if you don’t open the portal I am going to teleport.” He said firmly and Tessa’s face went white. Kit had been trying for the past couple of months to teleport himself because if he could make other things disappear, why not himself? It had worked too, although he had only ever gotten as far as the mail box from the front door and had been too nervous to try to go any further. It also made him feel really sick when he did it.

“You can’t Kit…” She said softly, hand on her mouth. Kit’s face was hard and as immovable as stone.

“I will Mom; I swear it on the angel.” He said and she shook her head wildly. It was clear she wasn’t going to create a portal, or perhaps that she was too nervous to try, and so Kit closed his eyes tightly. He imagined the rocky shore, the sand, the caves and the ocean that he remembered from when he lived in LA and holding onto that image he tapped into his anger. He remembered what it felt like to watch his sister get tripped over by something he had left around, the anger he felt when he zapped the horses out of the sky, the intense rage he felt whenever anyone he loved was in danger and he couldn’t stop it. Like the Blackthorns were. The Blackthorns were in danger. The thought zapped through his veins, hot and nearly painful. He saw Helen and Aline battling back to back, Julian and Emma fighting near each other in tandem trying to protect Dru. What if Dru was trying to fight for herself? Of course Mark would be trying to fight his way to Ty who would be in the middle of the battle because bad luck follows that young man everywhere. Ty Ty Ty Ty Tiberius Blackthorn. He’s in danger. It was the final push he needed and he felt his body and mind get sucked into oblivion.

He landed on his hands and knees in sand, retching violently as his senses came back to him. First was touch, he could feel the shifting sand beneath him. Then came taste, there was coppery blood in his mouth. Next came sight as he opened his eyes and saw that where the sun had been rising over Devon, it was pitch black night in LA. Then he smelt it, the ocean and the sand, the sage off the desert and the blood and ichor stench that saturated the air. Last of all came sound as the ringing in his ears stopped. The battle was on the other side of the rocky alcove he had landed in, he could hear the screeching of demons and the shrieks of battling Shadowhunters. Kit hauled himself to his feet and scrambled as fast as he could up the rock face to see the melee below. It was almost like he had imagined it, but much worse. The first person he saw was Dru who was backed against a rock directly below Kit with three demons advancing on her and fending them off with two seraph blades, screaming so loud her voice was going hoarse. Kit scanned the battle field and saw that she was in the most peril and that the rest of the Blackthorns were fighting in pairs. Aline and Helen who were trying to get to Dru, Julian and Emma were back to back surrounded by a ring of demons, Mark and Cristina were standing against another rock face opposite Dru, but they had it seemingly under as much control as they could. Ty was standing closer to the water in one on one combat with a demon who seemed intent on making Ty dizzy as they circled. Kit could see Ty’s headphones from here, as well as Livvy’s ghost at his side.

Kit rushed down the rocks, half stumbling and half sliding and named a seraph blade as he went, landing squarely beside Dru who didn’t even have time to react in surprise as she slashed upwards at a demon that was trying to sting her with its tail. Kit, who had a height advantage to Dru, stabbed down on the second demon and sliced its head clean off which stained the sand with more black ichor. Kit pulled a throwing blade from his belt and let it soar into the third demon’s eye and it convulsed twice before disappearing completely leaving Kit’s blade in its place. He picked it up and went to surge into the melee, but Dru’s hand stopped him.

“You came.” She said incredulously and he shook her off, they didn’t have time for a reunion.

“Of course I did. Now get somewhere safe or Julian will rip my head off if you get hurt.” He said and when she opened her mouth he cut her off sharply, “I said ‘go’ Drusilla.” She jutted her chin up defiantly and Kit couldn’t believe what he was seeing. They didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t leave her there when she was going to jump back in the battle.

“Do you have throwing knives?” He asked and she nodded hesitantly, “Get up on high ground and aim for black writhing things okay?” He said, not waiting for a confirmation from her. He whirled and ran hell for leather to the middle of the melee. He reached Helen and Aline first, massacring three demons as he went, and they both thanked him distractedly for saving Dru.

“Go to Mark and Christina, attack from behind the demons and the four of you can circle them. Then round up Ty.” He said and they nodded. They must have understood that he had seen what was going on from a high vantage point and had come up with a strategy plan on his way down to protect Dru.

“Then what?” Aline screamed, whirling around and cutting the heads off two demons in one fell swoop.

“Then you six circle the demons surrounding Emma and Julian! I’m going to help them from inside!” He yelled and the three of them took off through the blood sloshed sand, slashing and hacking their way through. Kit’s seraph blade was dissolving with the amount of demon blood on it and he swore, pulling out another one, naming it and lunging forward just in time to stab up through a demon’s mouth before it could wrap its jaws around his head. He panted, but he didn’t have a second to stop, he just sprang forward until he burst through a wall of demons to face Emma and Julian who not only looked surprised to see him, but also angry.

“We got this help the others!” Julian yelled at Kit who had already whirled to now face the demon wall.

“They’re fine just fight!” He yelled back, stepping into place so that three of them were shoulder to shoulder with enough room to swing their sword arms. There was no way the three of them could hold off all of the demons that were descending on them, and Kit was starting to wonder if he had landed himself in a suicide mission. He also wondered mildly where the rest of the back-up was. One nineteen year old Shadowhunter-Faerie boy was not enough to defeat this mass of demons that were broiling up around them.

“Where did they come from?” Kit yelled, feeling the exhaustion in his veins, but refusing to give up.

“Fucked if we know, they reared up out of nowhere and separated us!” Emma screeched, jumping on Julian’s knees. She leapt off him, flipped in the air and landed, bringing her sword down and cutting a demon clean in half. If Kit hadn’t been fighting for his life he would have been impressed.

“Most of them surrounded us, but the last we saw was Dru pinned against some rocks!” Julian added, yelling over the din of the battle.

“She’s fine, I sent her up the cliff!” Kit reassured him and Julian’s eyes cleared for a moment as he regarded Kit. It was a moment of weakness, Julian’s children had always been his weakness, and a demon reared up behind him. Emma screamed like her heart was broken and Kit reached to his belt for a throwing blade as the demon came down fast with its needle sharp teeth dripping poison. The demon screamed and looked up revealing to Kit blade lodged through the top of its head into its mouth. The blade wasn’t Kit’s. Julian didn’t hesitate to run the demon through with his seraph blade, swearing at it for having the cheek to try and kill him.

“Little cu-“ He was cut off from calling the demon one of the worst names under the sun by Emma who had again screamed, but this time in fear for herself. She was pinned under a demon that Kit didn’t recognise and Julian moved with blurred speed to save her as Kit defended Julian’s back. When it vanished and Emma was hauled to her feet, Kit saw the hopelessness welling in her eyes. It was something he never thought he’d see. Emma was practically a sister to him, if Jem being her only living relative and Kit’s adopted father had anything to do with it, and she never gave up. He knew her to be ruthless and brave, and the best Shadowhunter of their generation under Jace, Clary and the Lightwoods. Seeing hopelessness on her face was like someone telling Kit the sun was never going to rise again. He didn’t believe it, but it was a terrifying possibility.

Kit spun around and through the gaps in the writhing bodies he could see the Blackthorns and their partners (or ghost twin) battling their way through, and up above was Dru looking so small and helpless from so far away.

No hope. No hope. No hope. They’re going to die. They’re all going to die. The words thundered in his mind as he collapsed to his knees. He could see Ty in front of him between two demons, he looked angry and terrified and was stubbornly fighting like he had been taught as a demon rose up behind him, ready to strike to kill.

“TY!” The word ripped itself from Kit’s throat and his entire body felt like it was burning, like he had been struck by lightning.

Two things happened next. First, a portal appeared on top of the cliff and Dru disappeared in a sea of black and flashing silver. Second, the world around Kit flared up in light that shot from his hands.

Then Kit’s world went black and his head hit the sand.

When Kit woke up his head was aching so terribly that he wondered for a moment if sitting up would make him vomit. He opened his eyes tentatively and recognised the infirmary of the LA institute immediately, and Tessa was sitting beside his bed crying softly.

“Mom?” He said weakly and she lifted her head.

“Kit? Oh my angel!” She cried and grabbed his hand.

“Mom?” He said again, gripping her hand tightly, “It’s not anger, it’s love.” He whispered and her eyes filled with a wave of fresh tears. It’s love that controls my powers.

Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoyed reading it @bookenthusiast-mermaidwannabe!! Let me know what you think x

#kitty #kind of #kit x ty #kit herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #blackthorns #blackthorn family #marktina #heline #i don't know enough ship names help #herondale #blackthorn #carstairs #tid #tmi #tda #twp #ty blackthorn #mark blackthorn #cristina rosales #helen blackthorn #aline penhallow #dru blackthorn #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #fanfiction #one shot #requested #headcanon