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livia-dovehallow · 4 years

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I Am a Shadowhunter - Cecily Herondale

{Based on the song “Salt” by Ava Max. It’s quite long for a solo story, but you can read it on AO3 as well. This turned out MUCH longer than I originally anticipated.} Uh oh / I’ve got breaking news / and it’s not about you / Uh oh “My name is Cecily Herondale, you see. And I’ve come to be trained as a Shadowhunter.”

The room was deathly quiet. Several pairs of wide, shocked eyes gazed at her. Cecily only cared about one of them. “Gwilym,” she breathed.

Will did not answer her. He stared back, pale and unmoving. He had grown up considerably since the last time she saw him. He was much taller, muscular, and covered in dark tattoos she knew only as Marks. She had hoped he would have been much happier to see her.

“Miss Herondale,” said the woman standing at the head of the dining table. Her voice did not waver, but her eyes betrayed her clear shock. “You wish to join the Nephilim?”

“That is what I said,” Cecily answered, her eyes not leaving Will. The other people about the room continued to flicker their eyes between her and her brother. Finally, the boy with silver hair cleared his throat.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Herondale,” he said. “I’m James Carstairs. Call me Jem.” Cecily nodded. His silver hair matched the bright silver eyes that met hers. He seemed wary of Will’s reaction, glancing back at him for a moment before continuing. “I’m your brother’s parabatai.”

Cecily only moved her attention back to Will. She had no knowledge of parabatai and did not intend to gain any. She had come to bring Will home. “Nothing from you?” She asked him, ice evident in her voice that had not been there before, when she first saw him and whispered his name. “I should think you’d be glad to see your sister after so long.”

The woman who had spoken earlier clasped her hands before any more could be said. “Sophie, please prepare a bedroom for Miss Herondale. It is nearly time for bed and she should not have to rest in the drawing room after such a journey.” The maid in the corner nodded and dashed out of the room.“My name is Charlotte Branwell,” the woman said to Cecily. “I am the head of this Institute. As Nephilim, you are welcome to stay with us here and train. We will provide you gear. Have you any prior training?”

Will finally made a sound, though it made little difference to Cecily. “No,” she answered. “But I am a quick learner.”

Uh oh / I’ve been breaking hearts too / and I learned it all from you / Uh oh

Will roughly caught her arm after dinner as she stood to leave. “What are you doing here?”

The last person quickly fled the room and Cecily cleared her throat. “So, this is where you ran off to.”

His head jerked up. For a moment, Cecily thought he had looked defeated.

“Yes,” he said to her flatly. “And you were not supposed to ever follow me.”

“Why not?” She snapped. “I am Nephilim, same as you.”

Will looked at her and she could clearly see he was holding back pain. “Cecy,” he whispered. She had not heard her nickname in five years.

“What did we do that was so horrible, Will, that you left your family and came here,” she said, her voice lilting. “To the people who forced our father into exile simply because he fell in love? To the people who never wanted us to exist?” Will flinched at her words.

“I did it for you, Cecy. For all of you.” The words seemed to spill out.

She opened her mouth to answer but found no words. She had not thought that was what he was going to say. “Excuse me?”

He sighed, his body shaking ever so noticeably. “I did it to protect you. What happened to Ella was my fault, Cecy, and I couldn’t let it happen to you, too.” Cecily felt her chest tighten at her sister’s name. “I ran so you would all forget me. It was the only way.”

“The only way?” She asked, incredulously. “I was nine, Will. I thought you hated me.”

Will’s eyes widened. “By the Angel, Cecily, I could never hate you.”

“I came here to bring you home,” she told him. “I saw the warlock you sent to check on us at Ravenscar Manor. He told me you missed me. I thought—” she paused, then whispered, “I thought you wanted to see me.”

Will continued to stare at her, shocked. “When I saw you at Ravenscar, I didn’t know what to do. I did not think I would have seen anyone there, least of all you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it a wild mess. “Something came over me and I tried to run to you. But it wasn’t safe. Jem stopped me.”

Cecily felt her body heat up. “You were there,” she struggled. “And you said nothing.”

“I couldn’t.” Will reached for her, but she pulled away from him instinctively. He winced. “I would have put you, all of you, in more danger if you saw me.” He seemed to realize something. “But a warlock? I never sent any warlock.”

“Well, I saw him. Hiding in the grass on the hill, spying. I asked him if you sent him to check on us and he told me you missed me. I thought it meant you wanted to come home. When you didn’t come, I left. I probably broke Mam and Da’s hearts, same as you did, to come to Shadowhunters.”

Will gaped. “Mam and Da don’t know where you are?”

“Maybe. I left them a short letter. I told them I was coming to bring you home. I assume they only learned of it long after I was gone.”

They stood for a long moment, looking at each other. Cecily suspected that the look on her face had fallen to the same look of heartbreak that her brother’s face showed. “Why did you leave?” She finally asked again, her voice no higher than crackling of the fire.

“The curse,” he whispered. Upon seeing her face, he continued. “Cecy, when I opened that Pyxis, the box in Da’s office, the demon that killed Ella told me that he’d cursed me. That anyone who ever loved me would die. That night, Ella died, and I knew I had to leave. I couldn’t let that happen to you or our parents. It was the only way I could keep you safe from me.”

Cecily’s eyes widened. Will hadn’t broken his eye contact with her. He looked so somber and broken. He continued. “I was at Ravenscar Manor because we’re looking for someone dangerous. We followed a lead to the manor, thinking we’d find him there. But instead we found you.” “Mortmain,” Cecily whispered. “Why are you looking for Mortmain?” Will shook his head. “The point, Cecily, is that everything I’ve ever done in the last five years has been to keep the people I love safe. But—” He choked.

“But what?”

“But today I learned there was never any curse.” He sank back into his seat. “The demon only convinced me there was. He confessed to fabricating the whole thing when I faced him tonight. I left Wales thinking I was protecting my family, but I only hurt them. I hurt you.” Cecily stood, stunned. “There is no curse,” she said slowly. “So, you can come home.” Will shook his head violently. “I can’t come home Cecily. This is my home now. You have to understand. It is you who needs to go home.” Cecily curled her hands into fists. “I will not go home without you. If you will not return with me, then I will stay right here and train to be a Shadowhunter.” Will looked up at her, suddenly furious. “No! You are going home, Cecy. This world is not safe. Curse or no curse, you have to stay away.” She glared back at him. “Oh, I will stay. And I will train until you choose to come home with me.” I’ve got my thigh-highs on / feel like Wonder Woman / that’s when you want all in / but I’m not your woman / when my lipstick pops / and I feel like Monroe / that’s when you want me most / Uh oh The rush was exhilarating.

With every swing of a blade and release of a knife, Cecily felt more and more at home. When days turned into weeks of training, she felt less motivated to return to Yorkshire. She had even relented in begging Will to return, asking him only to write their parents a letter.

Even the feel of gear against her skin felt right. She had never worn trousers before, but it made practical sense to her. A lady’s dress would only slow her down. She looked about the training room and closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself where she was. She remembered the feel of the stele on her right hand, where she received her first Mark.

“Why should I bother if you’re not going to listen?” Her brother’s voice had snapped. Cecily opened her eyes and glared at Will.

“Because you have to,” Cecily had answered. “I’ve joined the Nephilim, I must be trained, and you don’t trust anyone else in the Institute to train me.”

She knew he was never going to be happy that she had stayed. But, as she spent more time amongst the inhabitants of the London Institute, she understood why Will did. When Cecily landed on the rough gravel of Chiswick House, she had expected to be more graceful about it. Instead, she stared at her wrist, which bent in an unnatural manner. She felt someone’s arms around her help her off the ground. She initially thought it was Will, whose voice she had heard shout as she fell. When she looked up, she was surprised to stare into green eyes instead of blue.

The boy said nothing, but he looked at her in wonder. She felt his fingers under her chin, holding her head up and keeping her gaze on his. She wondered if that was surprise she saw in his eyes. Recognition? Awe? Moments later Will appeared, shoving the boy from her. “Stay away from my sister,” Will had yelled at him. “That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen a Shadowhunter do,” the boy said to her. His voice was definitely full of awe.

Cecily glanced at him and bit back a smile. I’m all out of salt / I’m not gonna cry / won’t give you want you want / ‘cuz I look way too good tonight / I’m all out of salt / tears are running dry / won’t give you want you want / ‘cuz I look way too good tonight Cecily felt at home, standing before the London Institute, her hair pinned and dress neat. She held her head high and smiled. “I intend to stay here, Charlotte, at the Institute,” she had said, though her announcement was to everyone. “I want to remain a Shadowhunter.” Charlotte smiled. Gabriel gazed at her, smiling the way he had in those moments in the stables. Will, despite everything he had ever done to prevent her from staying, smiled at her, too.

“I know I belong here, with my brother and with all of you,” she continued. “I am most like myself here. I feel it when I wake up and I feel it when I sleep. I am a Shadowhunter.”

“And you are a member of this household, Cecily Herondale,” Charlotte said. “Welcome home.”

///////

#cecily herondale #will herondale #gabriel lightwood #the infernal devices #tsc #shadowhunter chronicles #the last hours #tlh #tid #ch: cecily herondale #song based fic #jem carstairs #charlotte branwell #i didnt realize how damn long this was until i had to go through and put spacing

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xxemmacarstairsxx · 2 years

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Gabriel shook his head. “He’s a worm,” he said again, tonelessly.

“I know. He has brought shame on the name of Lightwood, and lied to both of us. He shamed and destroyed our mother. But we need not be like him.”

Gabriel pulled away from his brother’s grip, his teeth suddenly flashing in an angry scowl. “You’re not listening to me,” he said. “He’s a worm. A worm. A bloody great serpentlike thing.”

- Clockwork Princess, ch 1

#cassandra clare #the infernal devices #lmao #clockwork princess #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #gabriel lightworm #benedict lightwood #lightworm #demon pox

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

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De-age Will Part II

I just realized I’m incapable of writing normal-sized fics ✌️

Part 1

(I just realized how weird the word “part” is lol)

...

Henry was walking past when he heard Charlotte’s voice speaking softly. He poked his head into the room and saw that she was reading a storybook, little Will pressed to the side of her body yawning tiredly and rubbing his eyes with his small fists. Henry leaned against the door and watched as Charlotte smiled while she read, not able to help keeping the same smile from spreading across his.

Her voice was vibrant and fluctuating in tone as different characters spoke. Her eyes widened when she put extra empathizes on a word and whenever she turned a page, she would plant a kiss on Will’s forehead or cheek. She would also periodically rub his back or stroke his cheek, which never failed to make Will nuzzle closer to her, enough so that he rested his tiny fists on her abdomen.

Henry’s heart yearned for Charlotte, so much so that each day he seemed to love her more and more. His Lottie. She may not love him the same way, but being able to call her his wife, to wake up every morning next to her, was the greatest blessing he could receive.

As he watched her reading to Will, it struck him how much he wanted a child. One with Charlotte. They had Jem, Jessamine, Will, Sophie and Thomas, but a baby would be different. A little child they could hold at night a fuss over and teach all sorts of things, like how to walk and talk. Henry knew, however he could never ask that of Charlotte, for she did not feel the same, and perhaps she didn’t share the same feelings over a child… Or, maybe she didn’t wish to bear his child. They could always adopt, but that would still require a certain level of affection towards each other, affection Charlotte didn’t hold for him. It would be easy for Charlotte to file for a divorce, if she wanted one, however, it got more complex once there was a child in the middle.

So, Henry just watched as Will’s eyes slowly closed and soon he was asleep against Charlotte’s shoulder. She kissed his forehead and gently tucked him into bed before following Henry out the door.

Henry cast a final look at little Will before closing the door behind him.

Charlotte’s smile remained on her lips the entire walk back to their room.

Henry wanted to put his arm around her, to hold her close as they walked through the empty institute halls. But, he loved her too dearly to ever do such a thing as make her uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and Charlotte looked up.

“You were wonderful with Will.” he said, blushing.

She blushed too as she replied. “I didn’t know how much I adored children until I had to take care of one.”

“I feel the same way.”

She glanced up at him, surprised. He looked down at her, tilting his head to the side.

Charlotte turned a dark shade of crimson as she spoke again.

“Do you wish to have a ch—” she cleared her throat. “A child?”

Now it was Henry’s turn to blush. “I guess I would, if you want one too.”

Charlotte looked up at him in wonder. “You would want a child?”

“A child with you, Lottie, would be a blessing.”

She turned her head in an attempt to hide her smile, but Henry already saw it.

“Likewise.” She whispered.

They reached their room and Henry opened the door to let her in. As she walked inside, Henry couldn’t help but think that sometimes, it felt as though Charlotte truly loved him.

She turned on her heels. “Do you want to try tonight?” she asked quietly.

“Try what?” Henry asked.

“To…Oh, never mind.” She said, clearly embarrassed.

“What is it Lottie?” Henry said, eyebrows furrowed worriedly. “What did you want to try?”

Charlotte looked at him, took a deep breath and spoke quickly: “To conceive a child.”

Henry was appalled and must have looked it, too, for Charlotte appeared to be horrified.

“Henry, no, I was—”

Henry crossed to the room and held her small hands in his.

“Of course. Of course I want to.” He whispered.

Charlotte looked up at him in wonder, a piece of hair escaping from where it was tied back. Henry took out the pins that held it into place. Her hair cascaded down to her shoulders, framing her lovely face.

“You’re beautiful.” Henry whispered. “Lovely Lottie, my angel from heaven.”

Her lips pressed against his and for a moment, they seemed to forget. Forget that they thought the other didn’t love them, because that moment, and what was to follow, was nothing short of glorious.

…

The next morning, Jem woke up to find a pair of dark blue eyes hovering over him. He yelled. Will put his small hands on Jem’s face and stared intently into his face.

“Good morning, Will.” Jem said gruffly.

Will giggled and put his arms around Jem’s neck. Jem’s head fell back on his pillows and he closed his eyes, still very tired from tossing and turning all night, worried for his parabatai and the fading rune. It’s not that Jem needed the bond; Will would always be his other half, as though, before they came into this world, their souls made a pact that they would keep a part of the other, so that they would have find each other again in the mess of the earth, to give back what belonged to the other. But, Jem couldn’t imagine never getting to see Will as an adolescent ever again. Will was still Will, but Jem couldn’t lay beside him at night and speak of his worries. His Will was like his twin brother, not a little child.

Jem sighed. This was too strange. He put an arm around Will and let him rest on his collarbone until Charlotte came inside.

“Oh, there he is, that little minx. He got away from me.”

Jem sat up and held Will out to Charlotte, but Will didn’t seem to want to be parted from Jem just yet, and made a fuss over the whole exchange until he was back in Jem’s arms.

“He’s much more spoiled, as a baby.” Jem said, regarding Will, who was smiling wide and embracing Jem furiously. For a toddler, he had a surprising strong grip.

“Yes, well.” Charlotte said. “I suggest you get dressed, Jem darling. Ragnor has agreed to come.”

“He has?” Jem asked, appalled.

“Yes, though he made it very clear that his schedule was busy and that he couldn’t stay for long.”

“In that case…Will,” he said, turning to the boy. “Why don’t you go with Charlotte? I’ll be right down.”

Will looked sad, but acquiesced, stretching his hands out to Charlotte. She took him in her arms.

“We’ll be downstairs.” She said, closing the door behind her.

Jem sighed and slowly got out of his pajamas and dressed in day’s clothes, trying (and failing) to not think too hard about Will.

…

What entailed after Ragnor arrived at the Institute was simple. He deemed that Will would be fine and that the spell was temporary. Should Will not be back to normal in three days time, they could message Magnus Bane, who was not nearly as busy as Ragnor was.

“You’d think he’s the emperor.” Sophie said to Jem, “With how busy he is all the time.”

“I really wish he would just say he doesn’t enjoy our company.” Jem said. “It would require so much less effort.”

“I suppose he is being diplomatic.” Sophie said with a shrug. Will ran up to her and hugged her legs. “Oh,” Sophie said to Will. “What do you want, then?”

He put his fist up and Sophie held her hand out. Will dropped a piece of yarn into her palm and ran away.

“Why does he keep giving me these things?” Sophie asked, holding the yarn out in front of her.

Jem shrugged.

…

Charlotte cursed in her head. Why is it that everybody feels the urge to pay the institute a visit when it’s the least convenient to her?

“Mr. Lightwood!” She said pleasantly, as he came in. “What a surprise to see you here; we weren’t expecting you.”

“Let us skip the pleasantries, Charlotte, I have business to discuss with your husband and yourself.”

He walked past her and strode to the direction of the institute study.

…

Jem watched as Charlotte and Mr. Lightwood walked up the stairs and Sophie sped away to fetch Henry. Will was standing next to him and Jem didn’t know whether to hide him, or just pretend like it was normal to have a small replica of Will at his side. He decided that the latter might lead to questions he couldn’t answer, so he nudged Will towards the direction of the kitchen, where hopefully Agatha would keep an eye on him.

Jem then watched as Gabriel strode over to him and, when he came to a stop, Jem couldn’t help but notice a bruise on Gabriel’s cheekbone. He must have been staring because Gabriel scowled and cleared his throat just as he was going to inquire about it.

“Where’s the other idiot to your duo, then?” Gabriel asked.

“He’s…out.” Said Jem.

“Out?”

“Yes, he’s having an…erm…episode?”

“Why am I not surprised?” said Gabriel dryly.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret, Gabriel.” Said Jem, darkly.

Gabriel side-eyed him. “What are you going to do? What with your debilitating sickness, I would assume—”

Miniature Will, like his older counterpart, seemed to know the exact worst timing to appear.

He ran at Gabriel and hit his leg with a spoon. Gabriel’s face softened but then quickly hardened into a grimace. Jem couldn’t help but wonder if Gabriel was fond of children and was trying to hide it.

“Who is this brat?” He spat. “By the Angel, the poor child looks like Herondale. How unfortunate for him.”

Jem stopped breathing as Gabriel took a closer look.

“Actually, he looks exactly like Herondale. The resemblance is quite uncanny.” Gabriel stopped and then a delighted smile stretched across his face. “Wait a moment. Is this Herondale’s bastard?”

“No!” Jem said, picking up Will—who was still attacking Gabriel with his spoon— and shoving him behind a door. Jem knew Gabriel wasn’t going to be so easily fooled by the Cartwright story so he improvised the best he could. “He’s Will’s cousin. His…sister brought him here.”

“His cousin?”

“Yes. And as a matter a fact, he is very territorial and doesn’t like meeting new people, so I suggest you leave.”

Gabriel scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “His sister brought him here?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, how I pity that sister.” Gabriel said. “Imagine Herondale being your brother. And the poor fool who marries her. What if the children look like William? Oh Lord, now that would be a curse.” Gabriel shuddered.

Jem was about to say something when Benedict Lightwood and Charlotte came back.

“Get in the carriage.” Benedict snapped at his son. “We’re leaving.”

Gabriel’s shoulders hunched ever so slightly as he trailed behind his father without so much as a wave goodbye to Jem. Hopefully, Gabriel was too preoccupied with his life to further inquire about this the next time they met.

Just as the Lightwoods were leaving, Will (somehow) managed to open the door and began chasing after them. Charlotte had barely managed to grab the collar of his shirt to keep him from running off.

Benedict Lightwood must have heard the commotion and turned around. Jem tried to move in front of Will in an attempt to cover him up, but Benedict had already seen.

“Why is it that every time I come here, there’s more children? You’d think they’d created a cloning machine and activate it every time they realize their current children are failures.” He grumbled to himself.

Once he walked out, Thomas shut the heavy door closed with an air of finality and, everybody’s ramrod straight backs, relaxed.

Charlotte whirled around to face Will. “You better turn back into your old self again before you get us into any more trouble, do you understand me, young man?”

Will blinked at her.

Charlotte sighed and turned around, perhaps too stressed to deal with this problem at the moment. Henry walked in and Charlotte pointed to Will.

“Jem, why don’t you take Will to the park or something. Benedict came in to give Henry and I a lot of work to do and it should take all morning.”

Jem nodded and held his finger out for Will to grab. The smaller boy gleefully wrapped his hand around his parabatai’s index finger.

…

Will’s eyes darkened. “Duck.” he spat out.

Jem looked at the ducks that were standing idly by the pond. “Will, they’re not going to do anything.”

Will still looked mutinous.

Jem sighed. Why couldn’t Will be like normal children, who could stare at ducks for hours on end? Better question yet: How is it that Will’s hatred for ducks ran so deep that even as a child, he despised them?

“Come here, Will. How about we sit down?” Jem crossed his legs and Will followed suit.

Jem had brought a biscuit for Will, and gave it to him while he stared out at the landscape in front of them.

Jem sensed that there was something strange in the atmosphere, and it wasn’t London’s normal, filthy, city air. It was like the calm before the storm; something was brewing and it was about to explode.

Before Jem could order further, a duck suddenly came from behind them and quacked before Jem could stop it. Will screamed and ran away, which caused the duck to chase after him.

“Why do these sort of things always happen to me?” Jem grumbled, chasing after Will and the duck.

.....

Tagging some people who enjoyed the last part:

@autumnangel20 @heronstairs2014 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @itsdaughterofthemoon @carstairstessa @minaxcarstairs

#will herondale #jem carstairs #henry branwell #charlotte branwell #fairwell #charlotte x henry #Sophie collins #thomas tanner #gabriel lightwood #benedict lightwood #tid fic #pre-tid fic #tid au fic #tsc fanfiction #tid fanfiction #William herondale #james Carstairs

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shadowhuntertrash · 3 years

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Prompt #4: “There’s… one bed.” for Thomastair! I love your writing!

Thank you so much!! Also I got a little carried away sorry 😳

Thomas didn’t want to go on patrol, he was tired, something he seemed to always be nowadays. He was even more against going on patrol with Alastair.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Alastair, it was quite the opposite actually, he liked him far too much. He always wasn’t big on going on patrol with anyone who wasn’t the merry thieves, Lucie, or Eugenia. It took a long time to learn someone’s fighting style which was why it was uncommon to go patrolling with someone you don’t normally go with.

When Thomas got to the institute where he was meeting Alastair he went inside, he had gotten there early so he could grab some water from the kitchen before being on his way. He was almost to the kitchen when he saw Will and Tessa walking towards him, they hadn’t seen him yet but it didn’t take them long to spot him, after all his height at 6’4 was rather hard to miss.

Will smiled brightly at him, his arm around Tessa’s shoulders, Tessa was smiling kindly as she did with everyone. “Tommy! What are you doing here?” Will asked, his face radiating happiness. Thomas smiled back politely. “Hello, Uncle Will. I was just going to get some water before patrol if you don’t mind?” Tessa smiled at him, a smile that held more affection than kindness, one only her immediate family, the Fairchild’s, and the Lightwood’s got. “Of course, you don’t have to ask you know.”

Thomas smiled and felt a rush of affection towards his aunt and uncle, they weren’t technically blood-related but they were family in every other way. Thomas smiled tiredly at them and casually hugged Tessa who smiled and hugged him back. “All right there Thomas?” Will asked, concern involuntarily leaking into his tone, Thomas nodded. “I’m alright, just tired I suppose.”

Tessa frowned and pulled away taking in his face, “I’m sure someone else could go for you Thomas, you don’t look very well.” Thomas smiled at the motherly gesture, it reminded him of his own mother who was currently with Eugenia in Idris. “It’s quite alright, I’ll be okay.” Thomas said, his smile turned slightly stiff. Will turned his alarmingly perceptive eyes to him. “You can come stay here tonight or for a few nights if you want to Thomas.” Will said carefully, Thomas was always alarmed at how well Will could read people when he wanted to.

Truthfully, Thomas could use a few nights at the institute. His parents were currently in Idris with his sister, the wake of Barbara’s death heavy on them. Thomas had decided to stay behind, staying at his uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecily’s house. They had been kind, very kind, but they hadn’t given him any space to himself. They were always trying to distract him, which worked well in the beginning but it didn’t leave him time to grieve, the only time he had time to think about it was at night which led to horrid nightmares every night. So really Thomas could do with a few days of silence at the institute.

Despite his thinking, Thomas shook his head, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother thank you though.” Tessa’s frown deepened and she put a hand on his arm. “Thomas-” Thomas sidestepped her, her arm falling back to his side. He put on a fake smile, afraid that if they talked now he would lose his calm, collected appearance he had worked so hard to keep up these past few weeks. “If you don’t mind Aunt Tess, I should get some water, I suspect Alastair will be here soon.”

Tessa smiled sadly, Will kept his face blank but his eyes gave away the concern he was feeling. “Of course sweetie.” Tessa said moving to the side so Thomas could get by. He smiled at them and continued walking, he was a few paces away when Will called his name, he turned around to face them again. “The offer still stands, any time.” Will said, a smile gracing his lips.

Thomas gave him a grateful smile, turning around and hurrying to the kitchen for some water. Bridget was there, cleaning some dishes and singingly loudly and off-pitch. “Hello, Bridget!” Thomas said with false charm, Bridget looked and him and smiled back. “Hello lad, water?” She asked and Thomas realized that he came in here for water every time he has patrol, how predictable can he be?

Nodding his head, Thomas got some water and drank it quickly before headed back to the front of the institute. He paused at the door, knowing full and well that Alastair will be there. After all, punctuality was something Alastar simply couldn’t ignore.

Running a hand over his face, an attempt to mentally prepare himself, he pushed the doors open. As predicted, Alastair was leaning against a pillar, eyes closed and his head thrown back. Thomas couldn’t help but stare at him, he looked like a statue, carved beauty that only artists could dream of.

Alastair’s eyes opened too soon and Thomas was forced to stop watching the beautiful person in front of him. “Where were you?” Alastair asked with a raised eyebrow as he pushed himself off the pillar. Thomas gestured vaguely behind him, “Institute.” He answered, gingerly checking his pockets for his stele and seraph blade. His bolas was also in his pocket but in case he lost it he always had a knife.

Thomas watched as Alastair’s eye followed the movements, an unreadable expression crossing his eyes. Thomas ignored it to the best of his ability and turned to Alastair. “Ready?” Alastair watched him for a second before nodding slowly. “Are you alright Lightwood?” He asked in an uncharacteristically concerned voice. Thomas nodded and waved the concern away. “Tired is all.” He said, wondering just how bad he looked to have had three people question him in the last ten minutes.

Alastair didn’t seem to buy it and took to staying close to his side all night. Thomas noticed it but was far too tired to care. When their patrol was over, both having said a total of five words the whole night with no demon activity, they made their way to the institute to report the lack of activity.

Right as both boys made to leave Will stopped them, a guilty look on his face that made Thomas’ heart sink. “I know you’re tired Thomas and you know if there was any way I could avoid asking you I would, but someone needs to go to a muggle town to check reports of demon activity about six hours away and you two are the only available ones at the moment.” Thomas sighed deeply, nodding his head tiredly, Alastair watched him with a frown.

“Mr. Herondale I could go, I don’t think Thomas is quite up for the trip.” Will nodded, running an exasperated hand over his face. “I know and normally I would let you, but there were seven reported demons and I was already hesitant on sending just two people. I simply cannot allow you to go by yourself.” Alastair turned to Thomas again but Thomas just smiled, attempting to wipe the tiredness from his face.

“It’s quite alright Uncle Will, I’ll be okay.” Will watched him with sad eyes before nodding slowly. “I am sorry.” Will said hugging Thomas, it was slightly awkward due to Thomas being so tall but neither of them seemed bothered by it. Alastair watched, a bittersweet feeling settling in his chest. No adult other than his mother had dared shared any physical affection towards him, much less a man, and Will wasn’t even Thomas’ father.

Will pulled away and ruffled Thomas’ hair before reminding them to be careful and to take the carriage. They walked out the door in silence, Thomas felt the entirety of the bone dead tiredness setting in him.

He knew he couldn’t sleep in the carriage, he couldn’t risk having a nightmare and screaming in front of Alastair. It was already two in the morning so they decided they would go for an hour before stopping at a hotel and then finishing the trip in the morning.

When they were settling in the back, Thomas on one side and Alastair across from him, Alastair turned to him poorly masked concern on his face that made Thomas sigh. “Are you sure you’re alright Lightwood? You look all pale and sickly, terrible to put it frankly.” Thomas laughed bitterly, “Well thank you for that Alastair.” Thomas said, his eyes closed to avoid the burning he was currently feeling from having his eyes open for more than twenty-four hours.

Alastair blushed and kicked Thomas’s leg lightly. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Thomas laughed quietly. “I know.” They fell into a comfortable silence. Thomas was fidgeting, trying desperately to fight off the need for sleep that was slowing his movements considerably. Alastair had fallen asleep fairly quickly and Thomas silently cursed him for leaving him awake alone.

After about an hour the carriage pulled to a stop in front of a small hotel. Thomas grabbed their small bags, preciously packed by Will, and checked in, putting off waking Alastair up. The lady that checked him in informed him that there was only one room available, Thomas just smiled and told her they’d take it, shoving down the rising panic. Once Thomas had everything settled he went back downstairs to wake Alastair.

When Thomas gently shook him Alastair groaned, slowly opening his eyes. “Thomas?” Alastair asked, sounding so utterly confused that Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah it’s me, we’re at the hotel.” Understanding dawned in Alastair’s eyes and he stood up, stretching slightly. They climbed out of the carriage, Alastair went to the back and turned to Thomas confused as to what had happened with his luggage.

Thomas shrugged, stifling a yawn. “I put it in our room already.” Alastair quirked an eyebrow. “Our room?” Thomas nodded slowly, his brain too tired to comprehend things at a normal pace. “There was only one left.” Alastair made an ‘ah’ sound and walked with Thomas up the stairs to their room, once again sticking close to Thomas’ side.

When Thomas opened the door and walked in Alastair paused. “There’s… one bed.” He said slowly, Thomas turned to him confused before looked at the singular bed in the room. Groaning Thomas sat heavily on the end, propping his chin on the palm of his hand. “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention when I came in.” He said, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “We can go another hour and find another one.” Thomas proposed, silently willing Alastair to turn down that idea, he was far too tired to go anymore.

Alastair seemed to have similar thoughts. “It’s quite alright Thomas, we can stay here.” Thomas nodded, shoving down the fact that he would have to share a bed with Alastair, beautiful, stunning, unreadable Alastair. Thomas went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed while Alastair changed in the room.

When they were done they switched and Thomas laid in bed while Alastair took the bathroom to get ready for bed. Thomas took the left side out of habit and curled up, Anna always said he curled up to try and protect himself from the dreams and Thomas couldn’t help but agree.

Thomas was already drifting by the time Alastair walked in and took the other side. It was weird sharing a bed with someone, the last person he had shared a bed with was Barbara. Thomas quickly shoved away the thought, knowing that he was going to have a bad night if he was thinking about Barbara before he fell asleep.

Blaming his delirium from lack of sleep Thomas turned to Alastair in bed and closed his eyes. “Talk to me.” Alastair looked a little surprised at the demand but didn’t question. “Cordelia has been talking nonstop about Lucie and becoming parabatai. She goes through these weird weekly thins where one week that’s all she’ll talk about and then the next week she doesn’t talk about it at all and then the next week it’s all she can talk about again. It’s like a never-ending cycle.” He said laughing, Thomas joined him and laughed quietly. He could already feel the pull of sleep and silently thanked Alastair.

Right before he was pulled into dreamland he felt a calming hand in his hair, “Sweet dreams Thomas.”

Barabara stood in front of him, a smile plastered across her beautiful face. “Oh Thomas, isn’t it lovely?” She asked, her eyes skimming the lake. They were having a picnic at the lake, the water was shimmering and reflecting the sun in pretty waves, the trees were swaying softly with the breeze.

Thomas laid on his back, the blanket blocking the grass that would have been poking him uncomfortably. “It is.” He agreed, smiling at his sister. They sat in silence, watching the scenery, and hearing the birds chirping peacefully.

Turning to tell his sister to look at the cliffs where a deer was standing, his head held high, he saw his sister’s confused face, a startling shade of white. She was looking down at her white dress that was slowly turning red in the middle. “Barbara?” Thomas asked, not yet catching on to what was happening.

Slowly, his sister turned her face to his, her beautiful face was now marked with cuts and blood. “You’re bleeding.” Thomas said, alarmed as he realized that the growing red stain on her dress was also blood. Barbara stared at him, her normally kind eyes cold.

“You did this. This is your fault, Thomas.” Thomas’ eyes widened and his eyes snapped back up to his sister’s. “What?” Thomas asked, confusion and hurt settling in his voice. Barbara glared at him, anger and blood turning her face ugly.

“You did this. You should have been faster, you should have been there.” Thomas wasn’t breathing properly anymore, breaths coming in too fast and not leaving fast enough. “You killed me, Thomas. You protected your friends over me.” She said, anger gone, sadness now laced in her voice. “No, I didn’t! I tried to help!” Thomas said desperately trying to make his sister believe him.

“Why did you kill me? What did I do to you? You killed me.” She said again, betrayal obvious on her face. Thomas felt tears falling down his face. “No, I didn’t! It’s not my fault!” Barbara’s eyes narrowed. “It is Thomas, yo know it is. You could have been faster, you should have been with me. You should have protected me but you didn’t and now I’m dead.” Thomas let out a sob and shook his head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Barbara shook her head, her brown curls bouncing, the tips soaked in blood. “It’s your fault Thomas, it’s your fault.”

Thomas backed away quickly. “I’m dead and it’s your fault. Thomas, you did this. Thomas, Thomas, Thomas.” Suddenly everything went quiet and then Barbara’s eyes widened and her body jerked. “You’re fault.” She whispered before she collapsed to the ground, a mixture of blood and beauty.

Thomas jerked awake, sitting up straight and breathing hard. Tears were falling down his face and he dropped his head in his hands trying to take calming breaths. His sister’s face burned into his memories, her voice piercing his heart.

“Thomas?” A sleep-laced voice asked beside him. Thomas in his panic had forgotten that Alastair was next to him, he let out a pitiful sound and closed his eyes tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I-I didn’t m-mean-” Thomas was cut off by the hysterical sob that escaped him.

Alastair sat up quickly, fumbling with the light switch next to him. “Thomas? Are you okay?” He asked distressed. Thomas couldn’t think of anything else but Barbara’s betrayed voice. “You killed me. You should have been faster.” Thomas was shaking and crying and he couldn’t breathe, he felt a hand on his back but could barely hear the words Alastair was saying.

Fingers grabbed his chin and forced Thomas to look at Alastair, desperation and fear in his eyes. “Thomas, what happened?” He asked, moving closer to Thomas who dropped his head helplessly on Alastair’s chest. “I killed her. It was my fault I killed her.” Alastair brought his arms around Thomas. “What are you talking about? You have to talk to me Thomas, who? Who did you kill?” Thomas shuddered and buried his head further into Alastair’s chest.

“Barbara! It’s my fault she was dead. She kept- she kept telling me it was my fault.” He broke off with another sob and felt Alastair’s arms tighten around him in a protective manner. “Oh Thomas.” He said sadly, one hand going up to run his fingers through Thomas’ hair. “That was not your fault Thomas. None of that was your fault. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

Thomas pulled away, staring at Alastair’s eyes, willing Alastair to understand. “No! I should have been with her, I should have moved faster, I should have helped her. I killed her Alastair, it was my fault.” Alastair’s eyes were watery now and he shook his head, pulling Tomas back against him.

His face pressed against Alastair’s neck and Thomas couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his mouth. “Thomas I promise you none of that was your fault. There was no way you could have saved her, no one could. Oliver was right next to her and he couldn’t save her either. It was not your fault.” Thomas felt the hysteria leave him. He wanted to believe Alastair, he really did but he couldn’t bring himself to, not with Barbara’s voice whispering in his ear.

They sat in silence, the tears finally subsiding, until Thomas thought he might burn from the embarrassment he felt. He had not only had a nightmare in front of Alastair but had completely fallen apart. The only thing keeping him from dying on the spot was the fact that Alastair was still holding him, murmuring comforting things in his ear while he soothingly rubbed Thomas’ back.

Not wanting to pull away in fear of Alastair seeing how red he was, he mumbled a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ into Alastair’s neck. Alastair sighed and pulled back, Thomas immediately looked down but Alastair put a finger under his chin and gently lifted his head. “Don’t ever be sorry for feeling things Thomas, it was obvious you’ve been keeping this in.” Thomas closed his eyes, he wasn’t aware of how much he needed to hear that until someone said it.

“I’m here Thomas, if you ever need me. I’m here if you need to talk, or if you want to sit in silence. I’m here.” He said gently, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. Thomas, now more overwhelmed with gratefulness instead of embarrassment, leaned forward and hugged Alastair tightly. “Thank you.” He said, tiredness abundant in his voice.

Alastair squeezed him gently before releasing him and laying back down. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked quietly. Thomas nodded slowly, laying down and sitting in silence for a minute before scooting closer to Alastair, craving the comfort and safety that came with Alastair.

It only took a second for Alastair to react, opening his arms as an invitation. Thomas let out a breath and fell into them, curling up to Alastair’s side. Alastair slid his arms around Thomas’ waist. Just before he drifted off, comfort making it hard to fight off the needed sleep, he felt warm lips on top of his head.

“You’re okay now Thomas, I’ve got you.”

#alastair x thomas #thomas and alastair #thomas x alastair #thomastair #the last hours #tlh #will herondale #tessa herondale #barbara lightwood #ask answered #tsc fanfiction

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waitingforminjae · 7 years

Text

Why the shows treatment of Yin Fen bothers me

*spoilers for if you are not up to date with either the show or infernal devices*

In the show you are introduced to yin fen as if it were any other recreational drug. Izzy gets hooked on it and displays the typical drug addict symptoms: cravings, fever, jitteriness, ect. She is shown to be addicted to it, she is willing to do anything to get more of it; she is shown to be a very typical, unflatteringly painted, drug addict.

This completely destroys and undermines Jem Carstairs’ entire character arc.

It is immediately established in Clockwork Angel that Jem is not a drug addict in the common sense. Yin fen is not a metaphor for meth or cocaine or any other recreational drug. It is a metaphor for the wasting, cureless diseases of the day, such as consumption or typhoid or something:

A hero […] who was condemned to die young of a fatal demonic illness, no matter how desperate the efforts were to save him, just as in reality victims of consumption sickened and died without penicillin(Forward of Clockwork Princess, pg. 4)

Clare states it clearly herself, yin fen is not a recreational drug like the show made it to be.

By giving Izzy this plotline, they have ruined any chance of Jem’s arc making any sense at all. People would see that Jem is addicted to yin fen and not be able to understand why he can’t just kick the habit. It wouldn’t make any sense that the drug is killing him, turning his hair and eyes silver and paling his skin, because this very obviously not what happens to Izzy. Izzy isn’t dying, she just feels like she is.

It is made very clear that Jem hates what yin fen has done to him. He hates that he must rely on it, he despises how it has stolen his life from him. And while he compares it to the Opium in China and himself to the addicts(thus offering a compelling metaphor about colonialism and racism):

The British bring opium into China by the ton. They have made a nation of addicts out of us. In Chinese we call it ‘foreign mud’ or ‘black smoke’. In some ways Shanghai, my city, is built on opium. It wouldn’t exist as it does without it. The city is full of dens where hollow-eyed men starve to death because all they want is the drug, more of the drug. They’ll give anything for it. I used to despise men like that. I couldn’t understand how they were so weak.

[…]

There was one thing they couldn’t fix, though. I had become addicted to the substance the demon had poisoned me with. My body was dependent on it the way an opium addict’s body is dependent on the drug.

(Clockwork Angel, ch. 15, pg. 339-340)

He also makes it very clear that the drug is more of an bastardized medicine:

After weeks of experimentation they decided that nothing could be done: I could not live without the drug. The drug itself meant a slow death, but to take me off it would mean a very quick one.

The yin fen is what keeps Jem alive, and he despises that. He wants to burn bright like Will does, he wants to live to grow old with Tessa(though not for her but that’s another rant). This why he throws it in the fire in Clockwork Princess, why he was taking less of it. He loathes relying on it.

This is not the case with Izzy. Izzy, like most drug addicts, craves how good the yin fen makes her feel. She actively wants more of it. It is not a unavoidable and cruel medicine, it is a recreational drug.

But the worst aspect of this is that it plays right into the negative and degrading view the other Shadowhunters have of Jem and further causes and creates Jem’s greatest fear.

The books works extremely hard to make it very clear that Jem Carstairs is not a drug addict. It is consistently referred to as his illness, the other characters work hard to combat this kind of thinking in the novels themselves. This plays into the vilification of the Lightwoods especially, with Gabriel constantly saying awful and derogatory things about Jem:

“You’re a decent Shadowhunter, James,” [Gabriel] said, “and a gentleman. You have your–disability, but no one blames you for that.”

(Clockwork Angel, ch. 9, pg. 206)

“I think,” Gabriel said, “that perhaps you might consider whether jokes about opium are either amusing or tasteful, given the…situation of your friend Carstairs.”

Will froze. Still in the same tone of voice, he said, “You mean his disability?

Gabriel blinked. “What?”

“That’s what you called it. Back at the Institute. His ‘disability’.” Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. “And you wonder why we aren’t friends.”

(Clockwork Angel, Ch. 11, pg. 269)

Not only this, but the scenes during and after Jem retrieves Will from the Drug Den, are extremely telling.

When Jem drags Will out of the den, the reader sees him lose his temper for the first time:

“You did not have to come and fetch me like some child. I was having quite a pleasant time.”

Jem looked back at him. “God damn you,” he said, and hit Will across the face, sending him spinning. Will didn’t lose his footing, but fetched up against the side of the carriage, his hand to his cheek. His mouth was bleeding. He looked at Jem with total astonishment.

(Clockwork Prince, ch. 9, pg. 195)

In this moment, Jem is so blindingly angry at Will, even Tessa observes herself how this was so utterly unlike him, because he feels as if Will is mocking Jem and his addiction by going and getting high on a drug when Jem is literally dependent and dying because of the yin fen.

“There’s no cure,” […] “I will die, and you know it, Tess. Probably within the next year. I am dying, and I have no family in the world, and the one person I trusted more than any other made sport of what is killing me.”

[…]

“He knows what it means to me,” he said. “To see him even toy with what has destroyed my life–”

(Clockwork Angel, ch. 9, pg. 200)

Because Jem has to battle against the label of a drug addict everyday, and his biggest fear is that he is just a addict, that that’s all anyone sees. He hates that label. Which, as seen, is openly talked about in the books. This is such a big deal that Will actually apologizes for it:

“I went to that den because I could not stop thinking about my family, and I wanted–I needed–to stop thinking,” said Will. “It did not cross my mind that it would look like I was making a mockery out of your sickness. I suppose I am asking your forgiveness for my lack of consideration.”

(Clockwork Prince, ch. 11, pg. 247)

Even though Will makes a point to never apologize about anything so that others will hate him. He apologizes to Jem for this thoughtlessness because he realizes how royally he messed up.

All of this is totally disregarded in Izzy’s storyline. People entering into TID after watching the show will be confused and not understand how Jem is sick and dying and is not really a drug addict at all. In short, they will enter into the novels with a prejudice and misunderstanding of Jem, and see him just like the other Shadowhunter’s do: a weak drug addict.

tl;dr: the show totally ruins and misconstrues and mocks Jem’s character arc by giving Izzy such a typical(and utterly incorrect) recreational drug addict storyline and I am furious about it.

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