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#clarissa fray
motherfeyre-archeron · 2 months
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Ohhhhhmmmmmaaaaaagggghhhhhoooooddddd.
I need Alec and Magnus like air😮‍💨🫠
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hale-morgenstern · 4 months
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hey everyone- my name's hale (they/she) and this blog is a temporary fix for some problems i'm having over on my actual blog. but ignoring that, here are some characters/dynamics/AUs that i reallyyyyy want to explore through my writing.
cleansed!jonathan morgenstern
modern!matthew fairchild
matthew fairchild x james herondale (heronchild)
the blackthorn siblings
kit herondale
mundane!fairchild-morgenstern family
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alannacouture · 1 year
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Literary heroines and the actresses that played them 📚🎥
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merylame · 1 year
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I'm sorry for all the shadowhunters' fans that really loved the tv show because I can't think of a better actor than Jamie Bower to play Jace. He's such a perfect fit. Just look at him. I mean, c'mon, he just breaks your heart by staring at you.
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Omg she looks so cute <3 !
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x-ceirios-x · 2 months
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come home to me
rowan and jace's relationship has been complicated over the years, but once events from the dark war settle, they finally find comfort in their once strong friendship.
warnings: use of rowan's dead/given name for the first few sections before they came out, mild cursing, jace being stupid, mild transphobia, jace getting punched for the mild transphobia (just keep reading he didn't mean it), way-too-heavy use of parallelism (or whatever it's called--guilty as charged your honor)
Ten. 
Jace didn’t like being here. The New York Institute was cold and lifeless, in a city that felt the same. Everything was always moving in the city, but nothing felt alive. Not like it was when he was in the country. There, he played in the grass, climbed trees, and went out hunting with his father once in a while. 
His father. 
He didn’t think he’d ever get used to life without him. He remembered the stairs, the creaking footsteps, clamping his hand tight over his mouth in fear that the men would find him, too. He couldn’t save his father, so why did he feel so guilty about it?
He followed along as Mrs. Lightwood showed him the main rooms. The kitchen, training room, weapons room, and now they were heading towards the library, looking for a man named Hodge. He was the tutor for the kids there and he assumed he’d start his classes with them soon. 
Mrs. Lightwood was a nice woman. He thought she was pretty. And nice. He didn’t have much patience to be nice right now, though he tried to be polite. His father always taught him to be polite, if anything. She carried a toddler on her hip—his name was Max. He had big, blue eyes that stared at everything around him. Once in a while, he’d look at Jace as he walked behind the two of them and giggle. Jace would wave to make him happy. 
She opened the doors to the library and walked in. It wasn’t the library in Alicante, but it was impressive. He liked to read—it kept his mind busy. Maybe he’d stop in here after dinner. 
“This is the library,” she said, gesturing to the books that lined the walls, floor to ceiling. “Most of your lessons will be in here, with Hodge, as I said. You don’t have to worry about starting those right away, though.”
He nodded along silently, as he had the whole time. He wanted to curl up in the corner with a good book. He really wanted to go home. 
“Where is—oh! Alice. Come say hello.”
He peered over the railing. Closest to them, sitting at the table was a little blob of black. They looked up, and he noticed the blob was actually a girl with choppy black hair and a black hoodie. 
They waved silently and returned to their book. Mrs. Lightwood sighed.  “She’s…quiet. Forgive her.” 
He could tell she was about to say something else when her husband walked in behind her. He briefly greeted Max, then whispered something in her ear. She all but rolled her eyes (which made Jace scoff—for such a proper lady, he didn’t expect her to roll her eyes) and handed Max off to Mr. Lightwood. “We have to go take care of some Clave business, but make yourself comfortable,” she said, kneeling down next to him. “All the books are yours to read. You’re welcome to explore more if you wish.”
He nodded. She gave him an awkward, encouraging smile and walked off, heels clicking on the polished wood floor. Her husband followed quickly after her, Max babbling about something as they walked off. 
Jace walked down the stairs, taking in the atmosphere. It was a beautiful library, with probably thousands of books he could dig into. He was interested in the girl at the table, though. He was always told as a kid that he seemed to talk to the people that wanted to talk to him the least.
He sat down across from them and leaned down, turning his head to the side so he was almost laying on the table. He inched forward as far as he could, trying to see under the curtain of hair hiding them from him. 
“What are you doing?” they asked.
He smirked and sat up. “So you do talk!”
“Who said I didn’t?”
“You don’t talk to Mrs. Lightwood.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Leave me alone.”
He watched as they turned back to their book. He sighed and decided to try again. He’d never been around kids his age—Alec, the Lightwood’s son, was probably the first one he’d met. He didn’t know how to act, talk, or what to do. 
“What are you reading?”
“Wilde.”
“Doesn’t he write poetry?”
“Yeah.”
Jace scrunched up his nose. “I don't like poetry.”
They glanced up at him through the curtain, glared, and returned to the book. 
He frowned. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re snotty.”
“I am not, you’re just annoying.”
He frowned again, though now he was determined to figure out what this kids deal was. Usually, people were nice to him. Especially lately, even if he hated the pity he got. The sad looks for an orphan boy who got sent halfway across the world because he had no family. 
He stared for a while. They had short nails, like they bit them frequently—he bet that hurt. Their hands were thin and frail, but they had a gold ring on their thumb that seemed to delicate and pretty to be their style. They seemed like more of the “rough and tumble” type.
“What’s the ring for?”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“I will if you tell me.”
They ran their hand through their hair and glared at him again. Maybe that was their favorite hobby. Glaring at people. “My mom gave it to me,” they said after a long moment, voice half muffled behind their hoodie sleeve. 
“Where’s she?”
“She’s dead.”
“Where’s your dad?”
“Gone. Who knows where.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “Well, we’ve got something in common. My parents are both dead.”
They nodded. “So you’re the boy coming to stay for a while?”
“Seems that way.”
He stuck his hand out, across the table. The Wayland ring glimmered on his hand in the light coming from the window. “Jace Wayland. Nice to meet you, Alice.”
Their nose scrunched and they shook their head. “Call me Ace.” He was expecting to be ignored, but they took his hand and shook it. “Ace Ashfair.”
“Nice to meet you, then, Ace.”
They let go after a moment and returned back to their book. While reading, they said, “you know, poetry actually is a great style of writing.”
“It’s so boring!”
“You’re boring.”
He laughed. For the first time since his father’s death, he laughed. It wasn't hard, but they made him laugh. He swore he saw a flicker of a smile behind the curtain of messy black hair, too. That made him smile more. 
-
Eleven. 
“Hodge is gonna kill us!”
“Not if he doesn’t find out!”
Jace whisper-yelled back and forth with Ace as they flipped through the things in his desk in the library. They were looking for the treats he fed Hugo, wanting to scatter them around the Institue to confuse the bird and make Hodge frustrated the next day. They were up way too late and snuck too many cupcakes for his birthday tomorrow, and chaos was the result. Sneaking around the institute wasn’t easy, but he finally got ahold of the bag and silently cheered. 
That was, until, they heard a loud ‘caw!’ behind them. 
They whipped around to see Hugo on the perch behind the desk, then whipped around again when the lights flipped on. At the top of the stairs stood Hodge, still in his pajamas, looking through thin eyes at them. “Not if I don’t find out what?”
Jace dropped the treat bag and stared at Ace for a moment, they back at Hugo. 
“Take the left,” they muttered. “We can outrun him. He’s half asleep.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Or genius. Meet you in my room?”
“Take the long way.”
“You take the long way.”
“You take the long way–”
By this point, Hodge was already down the stairs and walking straight towards them. They locked eyes for a moment and he nodded. With a silent agreement, they both dashed out of the room, one up each side of the stairs. Hodge tried to chase them for about three feet, but decided it wasn’t worth it.��
They giggled as they ran up the stairs and got to Ace’s room, closing the door behind them. They both slid down the door in relief, laughing at their antics and feeling the adrenaline come down. 
“He almost caught us!”
“I know–did you see the look on his face?”
“He’s going to be so mad at us tomorrow.”
“Alec will get us out of trouble.”
“Alec’s lame. And a kiss up.”
Ace rolled their eyes, taking a breath. “He’s only like that when Maryse is home,” they said softly, turning slightly toward him. “When she goes on business and it’s just Robert, he would have been in the library with us. He just doesn’t want to get in trouble with his mom.”
He nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Remind me of that when she leaves next time.”
They smirked and started to get up, extending their hand for his. “Noted.”
He took the help up and stood. They were barely an inch taller than him and took every chance they could to rub it in his face—it was annoying to no end and he wanted to hit a growth spurt soon. Even Isabelle was taller than him!
Ace sat on the bed, shedding their too-big hoodie (that he was pretty sure was Alec’s) and tossing it on the floor. “Wanna just stay here? I like talking to you.”
He nodded. Usually, they got yelled at for sleepovers. ‘You can’t get proper sleep for training the next day if you’re up all night talking with your friends’ or ‘You two are always up to no good when you spend too much time together’. He knew they were getting older and it was weird, but he’d never thought about Ace like that. They were just…friends. He didn’t want to think about girls, anyway. That was gross. The only girls he had to worry about were Maryse being home to cook because Isabelle started trying lately, and it never went well. 
He jumped on the bed and buried himself under the blankets. They lay a short distance away, copying his actions. 
“We’re so in major trouble tomorrow,” they said, a soft smile on their face. 
“Worth it.”
“Totally.”
-
Twelve.
Jace listened to the door a few down from him slam and he sighed. Lately, Ace had been pushing back against a lot of Maryse's rules and it quickly turned into fights. He was much more likely to just break the rules when she wasn’t looking, but they got caught a lot faster than he did. 
He put his book down and stood up, deciding it would be a good idea to check on them and keep them from punching something that wasn’t a punching bag. 
After a short walk, he stopped at their door—he could hear quietly sniffling and cursing on the other side and he knocked quietly.
“Go away!” they yelled through tears, voice cracking as they managed the words. 
He turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Not Maryse,” he said, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. It clearly didn't work because he got a pillow thrown in his face. He caught it with a sigh and dropped it next to him. 
They sat on the floor next to their bed, knees curled up to their chest. He watched as they furiously tried to wipe away the tears in their eyes but he knew it wouldn’t help anything. 
Silently, he sat next to them. He’d never been good at comforting people—not that he grew up with anyone to try it—but he thought he could try. He didn’t like seeing them upset, especially not like this. 
After a long moment, he watched the rigidness disappear from their shoulders and their breath calm. They wiped their eyes again and looked at him. “Why are you here?”
He shrugged “I wanted to check on you.”
They stared at him for a moment then sighed. “I don’t want to deal with all this anymore.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nothing to talk about. I just feel like no matter what I do, it’s not right or it's not enough. Jensen’s mad at me because I forgot to get him a birthday present, I’m struggling with this botanical stuff in lessons that I couldn’t care less about, and Maryse is trying to be my mom again. I’m tired of it.” 
He nodded along as they spoke and wrapped his arm around their shoulders. It was the closest thing to a hug he knew how to do. “I don’t think…I dunno. I like you like you are.”
They tensed for a second, then relaxed and slowly laid their head on his shoulder. “You seem to be the only one.”
“Nah, Alec likes you.”
“Fine. You and Alec. That’s it, though.”
Jace nodded again. He didn’t think that was true, either, but he knew better than to push them when they were upset. It didn’t end well. He leaned his head against theirs. “You’ll figure it out,” he said softly. “You always do. I’ll be around if you need it.”
They let out a breath he assumed they’d been holding in—they looked like there had been a weight lifted off their shoulders. “I will,” they said, more for themselves than him. “Thanks.”
-
Thirteen. 
“It’s after midnight and we have to train with Hodge tomorrow morning, where are we going?”
“You’ll just have to see!”
Jace laughed softly as walked down the hallway of the Institute, hand in his friends as they made their way to the piano room. It was basically a bedroom without the bedroom stuff in it, with a grand piano and a dead flower on top. He’d always played piano, sure, but he knew he’d never showed them. Because of it? He made a point to learn something specifically for them and play it. He actually did pay attention when they spoke, and liked to listen to them talk about the music they listened to. 
He closed the door that led into the piano room and kicked the towel under it, muffling it for the rest of the Institute so they didn’t wake anyone. Ace stared at him quizzically until he took their hand again and led them to sit down with him. 
“I don’t play.”
“I do.”
“Well, I know, but don’t expect me to play with you.”
He shook his head with a smile, opening the lid of the keys. Slowly, he began to play—it was repetitive and easy, much less complicated than the classical music he was trained on, but he couldn't help but smile when he saw their eyes light up. After a long moment, they hummed along, though he’d never mention that he heard them. 
He played the whole song, eyes focused on the keys. He couldn’t mess this up for them. The final chord rang out and he turned, only to notice them staring at him. 
“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, half teasing. 
They laughed and shook their head. “No, no…you…you’re amazing, Jace Wayland. That’s all.”
He smirked. “Can I get that in writing for the next time you’re mad at me?”
They stood up and punched his arm. “I take it back. I hate your guts and I’m going to kick your ass tomorrow.”
“In your dreams.”
“Oh yeah?”
He stared them down for a second, then they both broke out laughing. He kicked the towel away from the bottom of the door and walked with them back down the hallway, dropping them off at their bedroom. 
“I learned that for you,” he said once they stopped walking. He spoke quietly to not wake anyone, especially Jensen next door. “Did you like it?”
They nodded at him. “It’s sweet. Thank you.”
He swore he thought he heard them say something else once they turned around, but it could have been nothing all the same. He let it go and, when they closed the door behind them, he returned to his room. Sleep wouldn’t come once he laid down, though—he was restless, staring at his ceiling and wondering just why he couldn’t sleep. All his thoughts raced, but they all led back to one place. 
Ace. 
He thought about how panicked he was a few weeks ago when they ran away and he found them on the rooftop of some coffee place nearby. Maryse was an anxious wreck, as were Alec and Izzy, but he felt a different kind of panic he hadn’t felt before. He didn’t know what the feeling was. And he remembered how relieved he was when he finally found them, and the rage he felt when he found out Aric wanted to take them away. New York was their home—his home—now. They couldn’t go. He promised he wouldn’t let them go if they wanted to stay and fully intended to keep that promise. He never wanted to feel so powerless that he couldn’t help someone again, especially if it was them. 
-
Fourteen. 
Jace took a deep breath, trying not to sound angry right off the bat. He walked into the kitchen and noticed that Isabelle and Ace were talking about something, but the second they looked up and saw him, they gathered their things and started heading out the door. They brushed past him and he stared at Isabelle for a second, entirely confused, and turned back to them. They’d been avoiding him for almost a week now and it was getting ridiculous. He had no idea what he did wrong, but he heard they were doing the same with Alec. 
“Ace—Ace, wait up!” he said, jogging to catch up to them. They kept walking as he spoke. “What’s going on with you lately?”
They shook their head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Like I’m going to believe that,” he said sarcastically. They picked up speed and he sighed, stopping where he was. “Why won’t you talk to me?” he called after them, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. He cursed under his breath as they walked away, letting out a few words that Maryse would have lectured him about if she heard. 
He was tired of this—he hated not being around them lately. He hated to admit it, but he finally figured out he had some feelings for them, and getting the cold shoulder made him feel like he was crazy for thinking that would ever happen. That they might feel the same way. He couldn't stand it and decided he was going to find out what the hell was going on. Now. He was tired of being ignored. 
He chased after them, grabbing their wrist and dragging them off to the closer of their two bedrooms. They yelled at him and tried to pull out of his grip, but he was too stubborn for this. He led them in and closed the door behind the both of them, staring at them expectantly from the doorway. 
“What the hell is going on with you?” he asked, trying to keep his tone steady, but he was upset about all this. It was hard to stay completely calm. 
“I already told you—”
“And I told you you’re full of it!” he said, leaning back against the doorway. 
They sat on the corner of the bed and crossed their arms angrily. “I don’t want to bother you with it,” they said, just barely loud enough for him to hear them. 
His eyes widened slightly and he scoffed, almost laughing. “You tell me everything. Since when do you not want to tell me something?” 
Ace stood again and began pacing around his bedroom. “Because, Jace! Because you had your stupid parabatai ceremony and I realized that you and Alec have each other, and Alec and Izzy have each other, and I’m just alone, okay? Because you two are literally bonded together now by your freaking souls and you two are going to go off and be amazing shadowhunters together and I’m stuck alone again!”
He slapped his hand against his forehead. “That’s seriously what this is about?” he asked, almost not believing that is what they’d been so upset about. 
“Don’t say that like it’s not a big deal. You two are always going to have each other, and I feel like I should save myself the heartache of watching you two do something together that I could never imagine for myself,” they said, though he could tell that their voice was shaking as they ranted at him. 
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself so they weren’t screaming at each other and getting nowhere with the entire conversation. “Is this because you wanted to be parabatai with me or something?”
They huffed. “No! Not–alright, well, maybe Alec at one point. But—!”
“But not me?”
“No, not you!”
“Why not me?”
They buried their face in their hands, pausing their pacing a few feet away from him. They yelled wordlessly into their hands for a few seconds and ran their hands through their hair. “I–I can’t stand you sometimes, Wayland.”
“Why not me, Rowan?” he asked, calmer and quieter this time. He wasn’t angry—now he just wanted to know what was eating at them so much that they couldn’t tell him. They told each other everything. Why was this suck a big deal?
“I can’t tell you!” they yelled at him, talking with their hands as they continued. That only happened when they were really upset, so maybe he’d really hit a nerve. “I hate hiding things from you, but I don’t know what to do with myself lately! It’s so stupid!”
He was prepared to push a little more, but he decided to listen first. And he was glad he was—he was about to make a very stupid decision that was going to make or break their conversation, maybe their entire relationship for the last four years. 
Without another word, he walked over to Rowan. He pulled their hand away from tugging at their hair and kissed them. It was messy and awkward because it was both their first, but he didn’t know how else to get across to them that he knew how they felt in that moment and he felt the same way. 
He held their hand to his chest, his other hand holding the side of their face as gently as he could. He’d never thought of Rowan as a fragile person, but he treated them like porcelain in the moment, not wanting to scare them away somehow. He felt their hand relax under his and it rested over his heart that felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he kissed them—he could taste their honey-flavored chapstick and the lemonade they had over lunch earlier and it was probably the sweetest thing he ever tasted. 
They pulled away first, leaving him anxious and waiting for their reaction. They stared at him for a moment, blue eyes wide and tracing the features of his face. They were both waiting for the other one to react. 
Instead of yelling at him, maybe hitting him, they started laughing. They leaned their forehead on his shoulder and laughed. He laughed lightly, wondering what exactly was so funny. At least they weren’t yelling at him anymore. 
They sat up straighter and shook their head at him. “We’re both so stupid,” they said, biting back laughing at them. “Why does it take an argument for us to talk about how we’re really feeling?”
He smiled at them. “I have no idea. But I, ah… I don't know how to describe it. You just make me happier. I don't want you to think that Alec and I are going to start avoiding you all of a sudden because we’re parabatai. I care about you. So does he. I think in slightly different ways, though…” 
They chuckled at his words. “I certainly hope so. I’d much rather be kissing you. No offense to Alec.”
He leaned in again and pressed a quick kiss to their lips. There was something so great about it—it felt like he got a little shock of electricity through him every time he did. He really did care about them and needed them to know that, even if it took another fight and more kissing to convince them of it. 
-
Fifteen.
Shadowhunters don’t really “date”—he realized a while ago that he’d never seen any of the couples that came through on missions talk about going on a date and Maryse and Robert certainly didn’t. Maybe they were cursed to be effortlessly romantic because of their usually short lives and constant involvement in dangerous activities. Dating was tough, but he was glad to make it work. 
So, he and Ace didn’t really “date”. They did make time to hang out together, one-on-one, though. Most of their time was spent in one another’s rooms or in the greenhouse, listening to music and reading. Sometimes they talked, but not always. He preferred to do something a little more exciting, but especially in the last few weeks, they seemed to not have a lot of energy so he didn’t mind spending the time together this way. He liked their music. 
The song changed and they let out a sigh, putting their book away and turning to face him. They didn’t say anything, just laid their head on his arm and curled up. 
“You okay?” he asked, brushing a bit of hair out of their face. “Something on your mind?”
“A little. It’s not a big deal, though.”
“If it’s bothering you, it is.”
They sighed again and it was quiet, save for the Green Day in the background. At least, he was pretty sure it was Green Day. He’d only started to recognize each band out of the seemingly millions they played on a regular basis. 
“I gotta ask you a question,” they said after a while, turning so they stared at the ceiling. He could tell they were nervous so he put a hand over theirs as they spoke. “Do you ever feel…disconnected? I dunno if that’s a weird question or the best way to phrase it.”
He shrugged. “I mean, I zone out in Hodge’s lessons a lot. Like that?”
They shook their head. “Like…from what people expect you to be. Or what they think you are, I guess.”
“If this is another self-discouraging rant I can and will lay in you with my full weight until you admit that you’re a very strong and capable shadowhunter.”
They laughed at his antics, squeezing his hand. “Noted. But it’s not that, it’s like…” they sighed again, clearly frustrated with trying to explain the feeling. “It’s strange. The idea of being a ‘girl’ in a very…Isabelle way feels strange. That’s never been me. It never will be. But I don’t really feel like a guy either. I’m just…stuck in this weird place in the middle where I feel like no one gets it.”
He raised an eyebrow, a little confused but intrigued about the sudden topic. “How long have you felt like that?”
“My whole life, I guess. I remember my mom trying to put me in dresses and me throwing such a tantrum—by the Angel, it was so bad.” They chuckled lightly at the memory. “I never liked long hair, I never wanted to play dress-up or do my makeup or nails. I got nauseous at the idea of going to a party in Idris, but now I think I was more uncomfortable with the idea of wearing a dress. I had this god-awful bangs when I was seven that didn’t help.”
He smiled, trying to imagine them with long hair and bangs. It didn’t fit their personality at all, plus he’d always seen them with hair they cut themselves. Maryse begged them to grow it out enough for her to cut so it looked nice but they refused every time and cut it shorter every time she asked. There were several fights about that a few years back until she gave up asking.
“Is it weird?” they asked, turning their head towards him. “Is it…I dunno. That’s not something you’d, like…leave me over, right
He squeezed their hand and kissed the top of their head, holding them close for a moment. “Never. You’re you…I like you. Alright?” he asked, running his thumb over the back of their hand soothingly. “Don’t stress about that. I won’t lie—you didn’t catch me off guard here by any means.”
They frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean you don’t look like a girl by any means.”
They reached around with their free hand, grabbed the pillow behind them and smacked him with it. “Hey! Hey—that’s a good thing! It’s a good thing, right?” he asked, words partially muffled as he was getting smothered by a pillow. 
They tossed it aside after a moment and kissed the top of his nose. “It is, I just wanted a reason to beat you up.”
He rolled his eyes at them. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me.”
“I do.” 
He was quiet for a moment, enjoying the much less tense air. He could tell by looking at them that they were more relaxed than they’d been all week—it must have really been bothering them. “You have a different name you wanna use or something? I feel like Alice is too girly for you.”
They nodded. “Maybe that’s why I was so stubborn about the nickname for years. I was thinking about just going by my middle name.”
“What’s that again?”
“Rowan. Never found out why.”
He though for a moment. “Rowan Ashfair’s got a nice ring to it. I like it.”
“Me too.” They sat up a bit, leaning on their elbow to keep them up as they looked down at him. “Thanks for not…freaking out. I haven’t talked to anyone about this yet.”
He shook his head and leaned up to press a quick kiss to their lips. “Like I said. I don’t really care—you’re you and I knew what I was getting myself into when we started dating. There’s a lot more I have to worry about than you not really meshing with being a girl. You never have, so it’s not a big deal. We’re just talking about it now.”
They nodded and laid their head on his shoulder, slotting themselves into his side and half-hugging him. “I think I’ll talk to Alec. Probably Isabelle. Jensen can figure it out when he’s a little older.”
“You could tell Maryse and Robert.”
They made a face at the idea and shook their head. “What do I say? Yeah, actually I’m not a girl in this weird third thing that doesn’t have a name? Robert gets uncomfortable with me talking about Shakespeare being gay.”
He laughed. “Alright, understood. But you just could tell them you like your middle name. Don’t mention all that other stuff. They’d probably be okay with that.”
Rowan nodded. “I could. That might work. There’s another issue, too.” He hummed in response so they’d continue. “I don’t really like being referred to with all the ‘girl’ stuff. Even just she or her or stuff like that. It just feels weird. I have to remind myself that people are talking about me with that because it feels so strange.”
He shrugged again. “And you said he is weird too?”
“Yeah. That’s where I’m stuck. I can just suck it up, though, the name is enough.”
“I took enough English lessons with Hodge to know about his rants about the singular they. Why not piss him off a little in the same breath as being a little more comfortable.”
They thought for a moment. He could see the gears spinning in their head—obviously, it wasn’t something they hadn’t thought of before. After a moment, they nodded. “Yeah. Yeah! Actually, I think that would work. Would you…Will you help me tell Alec?” 
He smiled softly and kissed their head again. “Of course. You tell me and I’ll be there, alright?”
“Alright. Thank you. Again.”
“You still sound tense. Hey—“ he gently turned their head to face him, running his thumb over their cheek. “I mean it. It’s not weird. You always have been and always will be you, okay? This doesn’t change anything for me.”
They nodded at his words and let out a breath they’d been holding. “Thank you, really.”
He just pulled them a little closer and buried his nose in their shoulder. “Quit thinking so loud or you’re going to wake me up from my nap.”
“Who said it’s nap time?”
“Me! I did a lot of thinking.”
“I thought I smelled smoke.”
“I will tickle you.”
“I will kick you where the sun don’t shine.”
He rolled his eyes and got comfortable, pulling the blankets over them both. Sure, they had training in an hour, but no one would complain about a quick power nap. He always slept better when he was with them and he knew they did too. 
“Love you, Ro,” he muttered into their shoulder, voice muffled from the material of their hoodie. They didn’t reply, but he knew they heard him based on the slightly shaky breath they let out and the three light taps on his hand. It was their way of saying I love you without saying it out loud, and he knew it very well. They did it every time before he fell asleep next to them and before every mission they went on, always wanting to get the last one in.
Sixteen.
The front door slammed after the four entered into the Institute, a whirlwind of anger and resentment running through the hallways. Jace, Rowan, Isabelle, and Alec all walked past the foyer and into the weapons room as the argument continued. 
“It was for the mission!” Jace continued, rolling his eyes. He was tired of getting yelled at for the same shit. “I was trying to get information!”
“Oh, but you had to pick the hottest girl there, right?”
“She was the first person I saw!”
“Bullshit, Jace, you could have talked to any other Seelie.”
Alec sighed next to him as he reracked his bow on the wall. His head snapped towards him and he asked, “you have your two cents to put in on this?”
He watched as he grit his teeth, trying to decide whether or not to get involved. Eventually, he did. “It looked like you were flirting, dude. Not cool in front of your partner.”
Jace threw his hands up in frustration. “I wasn’t flirting!” he insisted, despite the barely-restrained laughter he heard from Isabelle that he chose to ignore. “It’s not my fault you’re just jealous every time I talk to someone you think is hotter than you. Maybe you’re just insecure.”
Rowan stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide in surprise and then narrowed in anger. He was too upset to care. So what if he wanted to talk to other people—those girls flirted with him first, and he wasn’t turning them down but he wasn’t saying yes either. 
“I am so done with this,” they said, voice calm for how they were just yelling at him a moment ago. “You don’t even see what you’re doing, do you?”
“All I’m doing is talking to girls on missions. Why is that such a big deal?”
“You’re pushing me away!” they said, slamming a dagger on the table in front of them. Their voice raised in pitch all of a sudden and he could see that they were fighting to not cry. He thought for a long time that it was something to admire—they were empathetic and showed their feelings to the people they trusted, but he just thought it was weakness now. They couldn’t hold it together when they were in a situation they didn’t like. 
Rowan continued. “You can’t wrap your head around the fact that someone cares about you for a moment so the second you get bored, you move on! And I’m tired of being left alone for hours, or you going on missions you don’t even tell me about—I told you I wanted to be with you but you act like I’m some side piece you just get to you with when you feel like it! Like I don’t matter to you! And the second something comes along with nice tits you’re all over her!”
He scoffed. “Have you ever considered that maybe I want a girlfriend, not some freak of nature that can’t even decide if you’re a girl or not?”
Even Isabelle’s jaw dropped at that and she tried not to get involved in their arguments. 
A tear fell from the corner of Rowan’s eye but their voice was steady. “Fine. Get a girlfriend. I’m done with you,” they said, turning on their heel and heading into the hallway. 
“Yeah, run away!” he called after them, supporting his habit of needing the last word. He spoke quieter this time and turned back to the table. “You always do,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair. 
Isabelle left soon after, either going to her room or to see if Rowan was okay. He didn’t even look up, just caught his breath and tried to calm down. Now, it was just him and Alec and he knew he was in for it.”
“I’m not fighting with you about this,” he said, looking up at him for a second. He didn’t have more than a second to process what was happening because Alec’s fist connected with his nose. 
He stumbled back, clutching his face and feeling the blood start running from his nose. “What the hell, Alec?” he asked, fumbling for his stele in his jacket pocket. 
“You’re such a dick, you know that?” he asked. 
“You broke my nose!”
“Good! You just threw away the best thing that will ever happen to your sorry ass. I just hope the next girl to give you a shot isn’t so stupid to stay with you until you get bored.”
Alec left in a cloud of frustration, storming down the hallway. He tried to draw an iratze on his arm to fix the pain in his nose but could barely see to draw it. When you get hit in the face, your eyes water. He wasn’t crying. 
He heard quiet footsteps come down the hallway and a small voice from the door way. “Do you want help?” 
It was Jensen. By the Angel, he was in for it. Nothing like pissing off a younger brother—the last time he got into a fight with Isabelle, Max tried to punch him until Alec shoved him under his arm and carried him out of the room. 
He took a deep breath and nodded, holding his arm and steel out for him. Gently, he took it and drew the iratze on his forearm. For being so young, everyone went to the kid for runes. Somehow, they didn’t hurt when he drew them—that burning sensation of drawing angelic runes on your skin was a dull itch for a few moments until he was done. 
He felt Jensen stick a tissue in his hand and he used it to scream up the blood silently. When he could see again, he looked up to see Jensen still standing there. “What happened?” he asked. “I just heard a lot of yelling and then Alec yelled at you.”
Jace nodded. “It’s…it’s big kid stuff. I was just being stupid and got my shit rocked for it.”
“Shit rocked?”
“I got punched in the face. Don’t tell Maryse I taught you that.”
He giggled and nodded. “I promise. I hope your nose gets better.”
“Thanks, kid.”
He walked off after that and heard quiet chatter in the hallway—Max was probably right outside the door, too, and he was gonna get in trouble for teaching the eight year old to curse. Great, just another thing he was going to get yelled at for this week. 
He didn’t know how to feel about everything with Rowan. Sure, it was a low blow, but he was trying to wrap his head around everything happening and didn’t think about what he was saying. In the span of 30 seconds he was single and the rest of the kids his age were mad at him. 
Just great. Great way to start the summer. 
-
Seventeen.
Jace walked into the dark library, a cup of coffee in each hand. He scanned the rows of books, the desks and long tables in the center of the room, and the windows that let in the slightest bit of light from the city, though it was a little quieter in their part of town. He didn’t spend as much time in here as he used to, preferring to take books with him somewhere, but he knew someone did. 
When he looked over the railing, he saw a shadowy blob of black in one of the chairs. A very Rowan-shaped blob. He smirked at the way they sat—he thought it would be incredibly uncomfortable to sit with your leg at such a weird angle, but to each their own. 
He made his way down the stairs and walked towards them. He sat down across from them and set the coffee in front of them. “No milk, a little sugar,” he said, taking a sip of his own. 
They peered at him through the hair that hung in their face—it was a lot longer than he was used to seeing them with. He didn’t think they’d cut it since everything happened. He watched their eyes narrow for a moment behind the curtain of black hair, but they relaxed. There they were glaring at him again. 
“Peace offering?” they asked, tone flat and uninterested—almost sarcastic. 
Jace nodded and leaned back in his chair. “You could say that.”
It was quiet for a moment, though they didn’t return to reading their book.  He glanced down and noticed it wasn’t typical prose. “Let me guess. Wilde?”
“I’m predictable.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I know it’s your favorite.”
“Is it?” 
“You’ve been reading it since you were ten. I’d say so.”
They smirked, took a long sip of the coffee, and sat it down. “Why are you here, Jace? 
He thought for a long moment. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say any of it. How do you apologize after everything that’s happened between them—and make them believe you? That would probably be the hardest part. 
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. With everything.”
They looked at him for a moment, probably suspicious of how honest he was being. They ran their hand through their hair—he could see how tired they looked now that he got a good look at their face. They looked thin and pale as a ghost, almost all their freckles were gone, and he could see the scar that Sebastian left on their face—thin and shallow, but it still was noticeable. 
“Don’t lie to me.”
He sighed and rested his forehead on his hand. He should have known better—they were always good at reading him. And stubborn. Very stubborn. Now that he was here, they wouldn’t stop pushing his buttons until he spilled everything. They were nicer about it a few years ago, but in recent years it was more like playing Whack-A-Mole with which nerve they were going to hit to make him snap. 
“I don’t want to fight anymore, okay?” he asked, spinning the ring on his finger. This conversation had made him anxious since the moment he decided (or, more accurately, Clary decided) to have it. He looked up at them, searching for any sign of a reaction, but they stared at him blankly. He wasn’t used to that. Growing up, when it was the two of them or they had Alec with them, he could read their thoughts like a picture book. They reacted to everything so strongly—when he first got to New York, he thought it was a sign of weakness. That’s what Valentine taught him, anyway. But he learned it wasn’t quickly. They showed empathy and emotion and all the things he’d been taught were wrong. That’s why he thought they were so interesting. 
He continued anyway, despite their blank look scaring him a little. He wasn’t scared of them but for them. What happened that made them change so much? “We don’t have the energy for it anymore. Neither of us do. I can see it in your face. I…” he trailed off for a moment, forcing the words he refused to say for so long forward. “I’m sorry. For everything. For being stupid at fifteen and flirting with girls when I shouldn’t have been, for not caring about you, for all the stupid fights, and mostly for not believing you. I won’t try to justify it because I’m sure you’re tired of hearing it. But I’m sorry, Rowan.”
They stared for a long moment and he couldn’t read what they were thinking. That made him more worried. He was half expecting to get slapped, which he might have deserved. He certainly deserved the broken nose Alec gave him after their breakup. Instead, they spoke up. “Fine,” they said, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll…take it. You’re still a prick, though.”
“I acknowledge that.”
“And I don't like you.”
“I can live with that.”
He smiled. In return, he could swear he saw a glimpse of a small smile from them, too. It was small but it was something. Knowing he shouldn’t push it any further, he got up, taking his mug with him. He got to the top of the stairs before he heard his name again. He looked over the railing at them—they weren’t looking at him and were buried in their book again. 
“Thanks,” they said, and quickly added– “for the coffee.”
He rolled his eyes. He had a feeling they weren’t just thanking him for the coffee but he wouldn’t comment. “No problem. See you at dinner?”
“Maybe.”
“Tony’s cooking.”
“I’ll be there. As long as it’s not Isabelle.”
He laughed as he left, closing the large doors behind him. That was something—a joke. After spending a year non-stop fighting, a joke was good. It was a start. 
-
Eighteen. 
Jace was walking down the hall when he heard sniffling coming from the door he passed. It was Rowan’s room—he knew they didn’t cry frequently so it concerned him. He listened through the door for a moment, trying to determine if maybe Alec was in there with them already. He didn’t want to intrude. But he didn’t hear anyone talking and sighed. He was terrible at comforting people. 
Either way, he knocked on the door a few times, rhythmically like he used to when they were kids. He heard a very weak-willed and muffled “go away” from inside and decided to step inside. 
Rowan sat on the floor next to their bed, knees pulled up to their chest. Their eyes were red and puffy and their expression looked like they wanted to throw a knife at his head from where they sat. 
He silently closed the door behind him, walked in, and sat beside them. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, careful to stay far enough away that they didn’t feel closed in or anything. 
They pulled the hood of their sweatshirt over their head and pulled the strings tight—it was such a childish thing to do and it made him laugh. That was, until he noticed whose sweatshirt it was. 
It had some weird, nerdy shit all over the back and sleeves and they were basically drowning in it. It had to be Simon’s. 
He sighed—he’d been to visit the Academy not too long ago and talked with Simon. He was still processing all his memories that were coming back, but he seemed to be doing well with it all, all things considered. He never brought up Rowan specifically, but he did ask how everyone “back home” was doing. He didn’t want to make him worry about someone he might not even remember, so he decided to tell him everything was sunshine-and-roses back at the institute, despite knowing that wasn’t the case. Rowan was still in pieces, barely held together by some thread and Jensen was struggling with his training, but things were slowly healing. Slowly. 
“Boys are not worth crying over,” he said, breaking the slightly awkward silence. 
They laughed—to him, it sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob. They punched his arm but there wasn’t any force behind it. “That’s bold considering I cried over you for months.”
“That’s my point,” he said, laughing along with them. “Not worth it.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He rolled his eyes as the silence settled over them again. He broke it after a long moment, saying, “he’s doing good, y’know.”
They nodded. “I’ve heard.”
“You could visit.”
“I don’t want to bother him.”
Jace rolled his eyes again. “He’d probably want to see you.”
“Probably?”
“I dunno. I think he doesn’t know how to feel about a lot of things right now. Could use a familiar face.”
“He can see you or Clary. I…he doesn’t need to see me.”
He sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth the fight. They were set on believing that Simon didn’t know how they felt or even remotely feel the same way when everyone else saw how he looked at them. Even jensen thought it was lame and Isabelle had to elbow him multiple times to not make jokes about them needing to get a room. Everyone knew Rowan well enough to know joking about it or pushing it was only going to keep them in denial longer. They were stubborn. 
After a long moment, they leaned their head against his shoulder. It was different than when they sat like this as kids—he wasn’t that much taller than them, but it was probably more comfortable when they were squishy kids with baby fat still and it wasn’t his shoulder joint digging into their cheek. They didn’t seem to care. 
“He’s doing okay?” they asked, looking for reassurance. 
“He is. Not as much of a twerp anymore, either.”
They scoffed. “Jealous?”
“Definitely not. Just saying that the Academy built him up a bit.”
“Why do you pay attention to that stuff?”
“You would too if you saw him in a tshirt with the sleeves rolled up.”
They laughed quietly and he wrapped his arm around their shoulders. It was the closest thing to a hug they would probably get from him. “I don’t like this whole ‘crying in your room by yourself’ thing, alright? I’m around. Alec’s around. Call Magnus. Alright?”
“Magnus yelled at me for the same thing, actually.”
 “If the two smartest people you know are telling you the same thing, maybe listen to it.”
They made a face at him then rolled their eyes. “You are not the smartest person i know, don’t even try that.”
“Alright, alright, but I mean it. I’ll make time for you, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll…try”
“You mean it?”
“I will.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and laid his head on top of theirs, relaxing in the quiet for a moment. He could feel them relax after a while of sitting there, to the point that he swore they were fading in and out of sleep. 
Once he was sure they were out, he very gingerly stood up and picked them up with him. He knew they were a light sleeper so tried not to move them around too much, just laid them more comfortably on the bed. He gently squeezed their hand, giving them an encouraging smile before heading back to his room until dinner. There was a world out there that was hell-bent on killing them, but at the end of the day, they were still just confused and scared kids. He wanted them to know they were safe somewhere, and he hoped he got through to them. They were friends before anything else and he wanted to be that again. 
-
go on and come home to me because I’m here 
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willbyers-clizzy · 1 year
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where are the clizzy fans here? reblog or like if you are a clizzy fan, let's find each other
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justafish-art · 2 years
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My Clary Fairchild Fanart!! this took me way too fucking long…
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THEN WHY DID YOU EVEN ASK FOR IT YOU IDIOT!
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thelostgirl21 · 2 years
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Alec's P.O.V. vs Clary's P.O.V.
Alec's suicide attempt in "Love Is A Devil" from Alec's perspective...
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Alec's suicide attempt in "Love Is A Devil" from Clary (and the others)'s perspective...
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irishyuri · 10 days
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clary, magnus and tarot cards from the court de gébelin deck 🕺🕺
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motherfeyre-archeron · 2 months
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Not Jace realizing that they are siblings, and that it's infact sickening to other people if they start going out, the exact moment Clary said fuck it and was about to tell him screw everyone let's start dating 😭.
Talk about timing.
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mygalleryopen · 8 months
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Short, red head, bad temper... yeah, Clary Fairchild. 🧡
Character belongs to @cassandraclare
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Had some fun with these edits.
Clarys professional
Clarys priv
Clace
Sizzy shots + Parabatai
A fun little girls night
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ohshititsash06 · 5 months
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YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THIS AND THEN LEAVE!!!
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maladaptive-jcb · 6 months
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I can't get over these photos of Jamie and Lily at the Mortal Instruments set. Lily looked so cute wrapped in the big jacket and Jamie looked so hot with one sleeve hanging off his shoulder. Also, side profile!???
Source: Just Jared
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