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crowtrinkets · 3 years

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Barista’s Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 2: An Elf, a Manor, and a Catman

The Barista is still trying to find a way out of this strange dream, but they meet even stranger people on the way

Word Count: 3,789

Pt 1

Whooooo chapter 2, I stopped at like 2000 and was like yknow what lets keep going ;u;. Enjoy, gender neutral Barista as always

The dirt crunches under my feet as I follow down the path. Thank god I bought nice shoes for work otherwise I would be covered in blisters by now. As I continue down I spot something in the brush of trees. I get closer and realize it’s a door inlaid into a rock wall. The bushes surrounding it unfortunately are all white giving it an ominous look.

"Go through the creepy door? Or continue in this creepy forest in a strange place?" I ask out loud. Weighing my options I grab the key Felix handed me earlier and put it in the lock. Wincing for a second in fear that this door too will scream at me. But nothing happens and the key turns to unlock the door for me. I walk in and close the door behind me and stop to observe the room I've entered. A yellow couch and a desk sit in the center. There's a large bookcase that extends across the walls and reaches the ceilings, but despite its massive size, there are still piles of books stacked everywhere. Some reaching half my height. In the corner, I spot a kitchenette.

"Man this guy likes to read," I mumble to myself. "What was he asking for again his relic? And Glass-" I stop mid-sentence. Patting the pockets of my apron I pull out the book and glasses I picked up earlier and held them in front of me.

"Right I had them all this time… This is awkward," I mutter and place the items on the desk. "Maybe I can wait here and when he comes looking for me I can ask for a way out of wherever here is," I speculate. My stomach rumbles and I place my hand on it in an attempt to console complaints. My eyes travel to the kitchenette I saw earlier.

"I mean maybe a snack couldn't hurt, he did ask me for a favor," Approaching the cabinets I open them only to find, a small wine bottle that says drink me.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," I grab the bottle to inspect it, opening the lid I take a whiff, sure enough, coffee. Just like the bottle from before. Running a hand over my face I let out a frustrated groan.

"This is the weirdest dream I've ever had!" I look back at the small bottle still open and still in my hand.

"That’s right… a dream," I ponder for a second and then. "Fuck it," I upturn the bottle and empty its contents into my mouth swallowing it like a cheap tequila shot. The flavor of lattes and espresso fills my taste buds and then it's gone. I put the bottle down and inspect my hands, trying to determine if I have grown or shrunk this time. Nothing.

"Well, I guess that wasn’t so-" I stop when my head smacks something hard above me. Letting out a slew of curses I crouch and cradle my poor crown.

"Ow ok, I guess I grew," Still crouching I look around the room, in my rapid growth it seems I had knocked over a few of the many stacks of books. I adjust so I'm sitting on my bottom and try to gauge my situation.

"Ok well I definitely cannot fit through the door," I say as I see my shoe is now much larger than said door. As I shuffle uncomfortably I hear voices approach.

"Well I don't know where he went I asked him to fetch my things but he has yet to return," a familiar voice grows closer, muffled behind the door.

"But the Duke-" an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes! I am aware the Duke is still expecting me but I cannot leave without my glasses or my relic, I will only be a moment," I let out a small gasp when I realize it's Felix. The door suddenly is pushed open but is stopped by the heel of my shoe.

"Oof! What in the heavens," Felix sounds annoyed and confused. I move my foot so he can open the door properly. He pushes the door open and lets out a gasp when he sees me.

"Hi Felix as you can see I'm kind of in a sticky situation," I attempt a joke.

"The giant!" he yells. Felix lifts a fist and green fire emits from his palm when he opens his hand.

"Oh! No thanks," I say and I quickly kick the door closed careful not to break it. I hear shouting and banging on the other side of the door as I use my foot to keep it closed, trying to find some way out. I grab the couch, which might as well be the size of a Barbie's in comparison to my large size, and place it in front of the door.

"I am ordering you to apprehend this giant!"

"Sorry sir you're not Miss Anka you can't order me to do anything," an exhaustive groan escapes Felix.

"Must I do everything myself?" he grumbles. I crawl over to the desk and start to search the drawers hoping I can find anything to shrink me or even to defend myself. I am not in the mood to be burned by green fire. I finally open the bottom drawer and I find a familiar item. A desert case with flan inside labeled "eat me". Without making any second guesses I upturn the case and drop the flan into my hand, throwing it into my mouth and praying I shrink to a decent size. Squinting my eyes closed I wait and wait, the desert case seeming to grow larger in my hand. When I open my eyes it's bigger than before, not comically so but much too large to appear normal. I stand and realize I'm about as high as the desk.

"Ok toddler size is better but still not great," I sigh. The sound of the door cracking startles me and I run to hide behind the desk. I hear the sound of the couch creaking against the wood floor as it is suddenly pushed a few feet back. I hold my breath and peek around the desk. In walks Felix and a man dressed as what I am assuming a knight.

"Where is it?" Felix mutters under his breath. He lets out a yelp when he notices a pile of books, all open and laying on top of each other. When Felix's back is turned as he attempts to right his collection I make a run for the door.

I run and run until my legs ache, not even bothering to keep track of where I am going, I stop to catch my breath, doubling over in a heaving mess. After catching my breath I decide to look at my surroundings, I am caught off guard when I realize I am not surrounded by trees but in fact large mushrooms. I look up and inspect the telltale gills many mushrooms have on their underside, backing up I try to take in the scope of just how large this mushroom is.

"Oh my god," I whisper. I suddenly hear the shuffle of fabric on top of the mushroom and a person peers over the edge. The first thing I notice about this person is that they have pointed ears. I try not to stare but I'm so amazed that I forget to speak.

"Well, who might you be hm?" They lean into their palm looking at me with a sort of annoyance crossed with curiosity.

"Oh um, I-I am uh," I'm still a little shocked and the person seems to take note. They let out a sigh.

"Never seen an elf before have you?" They ask. I decide to refrain from speaking and give a slow nod, flushing with embarrassment.

"I would be surprised if you did, you don't seem to be from around here, in all honesty, you look lost and a little naïve," Suddenly they disappear and toss a rope ladder over the side. "Come, join me," They say. I observe the ladder with a sort of hesitance, giving it a slight tug to be sure it won't fall whilst I climb. Deeming the ladder worthy of my ascension I climb up and onto the mushroom cap. Once I am at the top the person I met is sitting, long draping clothes cover their body. Multiple glass jars of different sizes and shapes surround them. In close proximity, I realize just how tall they are, although I am now the size of a child they still appear to be at least 6 feet in height. Once I settle down next to them, they tilt a glass container in my direction.

"Uhm what is that?" I ask.

"Lotion," they say. I mumble thanks and take some in my hand. It smells of lavender.

"Thank you uh-" I hesitate.

"Saaros," they respond. "So what are you doing here? You appear to be a traveler although that get up is not very travel friendly," I look down at my apron and sweater letting out a laugh.

"Oh yea uh, no I'm just lost and looking for a way out," Saaros eyes me, a smirk forming on their lips.

"Oh? And perhaps it isn't because you are looking for love?" they question. A small undignified escapes me as I feel my face warm.

"N-no, I'm lost and I just need to find a way out, I've only met a few people here and besides it's not like I'm- I'm looking for a man named Felix. He has a red waistcoat and messy looking hair, a-and I think he does magic?" I trail off thinking about Felix. I guess he wasn't bad-looking but he mistook me for someone else and then got scared of me as well. What a strange man Felix is. Saaros leans towards me, their smirk never leaving.

"No! I am not looking for love," I avoid eye contact, hoping to see something that will drag me out of this awkward situation. Saaros lets out a hum.

"Very well then, I however must get going," they stand and start to gather the bottles surrounding them and placing the items into a bag.

"But wait, I'm still lost!" I plead. Without another look at me, Saaros begins to climb down the step ladder they tossed down earlier. I lean over the edge and watch as Saaros descends.

"Could you at least tell me how to get back to my normal size? I'm not usually this small," I call out. Saaros looks up at me, an annoyed expression plastered on their face. They sigh.

"Very well," With one arm holding themselves on the ladder they point with the other. "The right side will allow you to shrink, while the left will allow you to grow, simple enough?" They ask. I give a small nod. They then point their hand in the opposite direction from where I came.

"If you go that direction you may find Blackthorn Hall, there you may find your dear Felix," I flush at their use of "dear" but elected to ignore it.

"Thank you," a small smile forms on my lips. Saaros gives me a nod and continues down the ladder, eventually reaching the floor, and disappearing into the forest. Turning back around I look at the mushroom I am sitting upon.

"Right to shrink left to grow," I mumble to myself. I grab a tiny piece of the left side and take a bite. Suddenly I grow much larger, way too large. My legs now dangling over the side of the mushroom cap.

"Too much," I yelp. I take a bit of the right side, even smaller than the last and I shrink down once again, I look at my surroundings trying to gauge if I am at least my normal height. Deeming myself as being back to normal I ascend down the ladder as well, heading the direction Saaros pointed me to.

I follow the path Saaros gave me and once I round a bend I stumble across a creepy-looking manor. It's not that it is unkempt or dirty, it's actually rather beautiful, but something about the particular building is giving off an unsettling aura. I let out a slow long sigh and approach its doors. Once I approach the front I find I am not alone. I see a very very large woman standing in front of the door. The door opens slightly, barely giving me a view of who is on the other side. The woman and whoever is on the other side of the door exchange a few words. I can make out the woman's name is Orion, and that the letter she hands him is an invitation meant for the Duke by the Queen, to attend a dinner. The man thanks Orion and then closes the door. Her posture remains stiff and upright, almost military-like, and as she turns around she spots me.

"Oh uh, hello, is the Duke in there?" I ask. Orion's expression remains inscrutable as she looks down at me from atop the steps. She gives me a slow nod and then sits on the stairs.

"Are you waiting for him?" I question, slowly ascending towards the door.

"I am but a messenger, and the next time a letter is sent I will send it again, it's all I do," She responds.

"Oh um, ok," I respond. Ok, that was strange and kind of cryptic. "Well I'm just gonna-" I point towards the door, but Orion's eyes still look forward into the distance. I let out a small nod and walk up to the door, and then I lightly rap on it.

"He won't answer," Orion suddenly speaks up, never bothering to look at me. Just before I can respond I hear the sound of broken glass and yelling. I open the door and a glass bowl suddenly flies out and narrowly misses Orion's head, who doesn’t react.

"What the hell," I mutter. I run inside to see what the commotion is, not even bothering to second guess myself. The door closes behind me and I am suddenly shrouded in darkness.

"Hello?" I call out, my nerves slowly start to build as I attempt to see through the darkness. Walking forward I hit a wall. Running my hands on it I hear a sound to my right. I look over and once my eyes adjust to the darkness I realize I see the outline of light poking out from under a door. Feeling along the walls, I approach the door until my hand finds a doorknob. I turn it slowly, allowing the door to open, squinting my eyes as the light that comes through blinds me.

When I finally open my eyes I can see the room in front of me. A green dining room with a long table with only two people sitting in it. On the left side is a hearth, a woman with long pale blonde hair slaves over a pot mixing its contents. The two at the table however catch my eye the most. They sit across from each other on the short end of the table, whispering and glaring at the other across from them. The man on the right has long dark hair that is greying, his heavy black and green robes compliment the room perfectly, almost as though this may be his house. The woman on the left has dark leather pants and a white shirt with mesh sleeves showing off her plethora of tattoos. I can't help but think they look familiar. The food in front of them consists of soup and wine, a strange dinner choice. My attention moves back to the woman at the cooking pot. No one has seemed to have noticed me yet. Are those… cat ears? On her head? My face twists with confusion. But something moving in the corner catches my eye. A man with a long purple coat and dark pants perches on a windowsill, high up. I realize he is not wearing a shirt and he too has cat ears. His ears are white to match his long braided hair, and the thing that caught my attention was his equally as whitetail. He catches sight of me and gives me a toothy smile, then winking.

"Why does that man have cat ears and a tail," I catch myself thinking out loud.

"He's an Ilpheta of course," I quickly turn my head and realize the man at the table has taken notice of me. An almost sinister smirk creeps onto his lips.

"Well, I didn't know cat boys existed," I attempt a joke, feeling awkward that I've been caught in this man's home.

"You don't seem to know very much do you?" The man says it's more of a statement than a question. Feeling insulted I clench my fists. He's technically correct, I really don't know anything about this place but I don’t need him telling me that.

"Now now Escell, no need to insult our guest," the woman says, peeking a glance at me.

"I hardly remember inviting them Scylla," He responds. Suddenly the sound of broken glass catches me off guard. The cook, who I have confirmed now definitely has a tail and ears, is throwing plate wear at the catman on the windowsill. However, he doesn’t respond when they make contact with him. He just continues to pick at something in his teeth while the woman furiously chucks items at him.

"Be careful you're going to hurt someone!" I shout. The sound of the chair creaking across wood startles me and I see the woman Scylla begins to approach me.

'Well you out to be careful lost one," she says, a flirty trill dances across her lips. Scylla stops at the end of the table and picks up a glass of wine, then holding it out to me. Her smile never leaves her lips. I begin to reach for the glass but I stop midway when the cat man speaks up.

"It's poisoned yknow," he says without looking at me.

"What?" Scylla then grabs my wrist and pulls me towards her.

"Just a sip dear, it couldn't hurt," She begins tilting the glass towards my mouth as I struggle to getaway.

"No!" I shout, suddenly a bright flash of light emits from my hand, knocking me backward and onto the floor. I slowly sit up groaning, I open my eyes and I see that Scylla is nowhere to be found, just a bottle of wine, upon further inspection I realize no one else is here. Escell, the catman, and the woman at the hearth are all gone. I slowly rise and pick up the wine bottle. Inspecting its label my breath hitches when all it reads is "Scylla".

"Oh um…" I mutter, I then place the wine bottle on the table and run back out of the manor.

Once my eyes adjust from the darkened halls to the bright sun outside I close the door behind me letting out a sigh. I notice Orion is no longer sitting in her spot atop the steps. I do however see the catman that was inside earlier. He flashes me another smile which takes me aback slightly.

"Um hello," I give a small wave. The catman approaches me, leaning against the wall.

"Well hello to you," I can't help but glance down at his form, his abdomen poking out from his long purple coat. My eyes snap back up to his and I don't miss the smirk he gives me.

"I'm uh, looking for a way out of here, if you know," don’t stare at his abs don’t stare at his abs don’t-

"Well, I could tell you but, not for free," I wince a little.

"I don’t have a lot of money, and I don't even know your name," I explain.

"It's Sage and besides, I'm cheap," he finishes that off with a wink, causing me to flush.

"L-look I just need to be pointed in the right direction, isn't someone free to go wherever they like?" I ask, hoping he takes the bait. Sage ponders for a moment, looking to the side as his tail lashes about behind him.

"Alright," he lifts a gloved finger and points behind me. "If you go down that way you'll find the Holy Knight, she'll be able to help you out, you'll also be able to find the not-so-holy Engineer, both are beautiful in my opinion though, I won't judge you for having a hard time picking between the two," Sage's smile never falters as he speaks.

"I am not looking for love, just a way out," I speak.

"Well, you must be if you've come here,"

"I am not!" My voice pitches a little and my cheeks grow warm. Sage ponders for a second, tapping a finger on his chin.

"You agree a monster is a monster yes?"

"I suppose so," I say, confused by where he is going with this.

"Then you best avoid them, they'll only drag you down, if you can avoid love you can avoid the monsters" Sage takes a slight step back, clasping his hands together in front of him. I look at him with confusion.

"I don't think you're a monster," I say. I may have just met this strange catman, but something about him tells me I can trust him, in some way.

"You should," he says, almost inaudible for me to hear. "U-uh anyways, are you going to the dinner?" Sage asks, dodging the subject he started. I decide to drop it for now.

"Dinner?" I ask. Sage nods, I then recall the conversation Orion had earlier, the Queen is hosting a dinner. "I guess I am a little hungry,"

"You seem like the type to get around," Sage begins to walk down the steps of the manor and I rush to catch up with him.

"W-wait there's something I don't understand," I say. Sage slows down to my pace but continues to walk towards the forest I came from. "What happened to that girl that approached me? Scylla?"

"She's a spirit now," Sage says, still looking forwards.

"What? What do you mean by that?" I turn around to look at the house once more, my head filling with even more confusion.

"Sage-" I turn around to speak with him but he's gone. I turn around looking for any signs of the cat man dressed in purple, but I see nothing. Letting out a groan I turn towards the direction he pointed me to.

"I guess it's time to pay this Holy Knight a visit," I say to myself.

#fictif #fictif fanfic #fictif fic #fictif last legacy #last legacy #last legacy fictif #fictif saaros #fictif sage #fictif elowen #fictif escell #fictif scylla #last legacy fic #au fanfic

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theheartsmistakes · 3 years

Text

The Last Night Part XXII

(Author’s Notes at the end)

Parts I-XXI:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

.XXII.

“Lucie!” Her father’s voice came from the other side of the door as it cracked open inviting in a warm light that chased away the darkness from inside Lucie’s bedroom. Lucie, being only five years old should have been asleep hours ago, but was sitting up in bed with her old stuffed rabbit in her lap, and both hands firmly clamped over her ears.

Will, dressed in his white stocking pajamas, his black hair a mess of tangled curls stepped into the room. “Lucie, I heard voices-- what’s the matter?”

Lucie uncovered her ears and slowly opened her eyes as her father walked into the hazy moonlight that came in through the oval window like a dramatic spotlight. “They won’t stop whispering at me, Papa.”

“Who?” Will looked around her room. “Is someone else in here?”

Lucie nodded.

“Where?” Will demanded.

“They’re not here now,” said Lucie. “You frightened them off, but they wouldn’t stop whispering to me.”

A strange recognition filled Will’s expression. He walked over to Lucie’s side of the bed and climbed in beside her. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “They can be so loud. I think they just want someone to talk to, and I don’t mind, but I want to sleep.”

Will smiled. “As you should be. What do these visitors say?”

Lucie played with the silk ear of her rabbit. “They mostly just say my name. Whisper it over and over again, like they can’t say anything more. Are they ghosts?”

Will nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

“How come I can see them?”

“Because you’re a Herondale,” said Will, proudly. “All Herondales can see ghosts.”

Lucie contemplated this for a moment to the best ability of her still developing five year old brain. “So even James and Mam?”

“Only James, not Mam,” explained Will. “Mam was a Grey before she was a Herondale. It’s hard to understand, but you will.” He tilted her chin up with his finger. “Only born Herondales have this particular talent.”

“And devilishly good looks,” parroted Lucie.

Will barked a laugh. “Exactly.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “They’re nothing to be frightened of. They can’t hurt you. They’re just looking for a friend. Now, you go to sleep and if these ghosts visit you again, you remind them that your bedtime is seven-thirty and if they’d like to visit you it must be before then.”

Lucie nodded and slid down beneath the thick comforter. Will tucked Lucie in all around until she resembled a log underneath a fancy blanket. With his white slippers shuffling along the floor, Will left the room and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, her room was quiet and she thought her father might have chased the last of the voices away.

When she was almost asleep, she felt a cold breath of air against her cheek.

Lucie.

LUCIE!

The whispering could be heard even as she folded a pillow over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. They continued until finally she sat up and yelled into the void, “BE QUIET!”

The voices went out in a whoosh like a candle being snuffed. Nothing could be heard except for the grandfather clock’s ticking on the wall in the hall and the crickets chirping in the warm summer’s air outside. With a curt nod, Lucie closed her eyes and fell asleep.

“Good,” said Belial as he stood from the bed. “You received my message.”

Lucie’s eyes flickered to Grace cowering in the corner beside her mother. Tears stained Grace’s face and her chin shook with more to come as she looked apologetically at Lucie.

“What have you done?” Lucie whispered.

“I had no choice,” said Grace. “He was going to kill my Mum and he would never bring Jesse back. I wouldn’t be left alone— not again.”

Blood boiled in Lucie’s cheeks. “You really think he’ll uphold his promise? He’s about as reliable as a trained lion. He’ll get what he wants from you and then tear your face off.”

“What do you know of it?” Snapped Tatiana Blackthorn. “You’ve been handed things your whole life. Blessed. You’ve no idea what it means to lose something you love.” She turned her attention to Belial. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I killed seven innocent souls, I’ve released six demons from captivity using Shadowhunter blood, and I’ve brought you the girl. Now, return my son and we’ll be on our way. You can do what you wish with her.”

Belial blinked lazily.

Lucie hadn’t noticed before since her focus was entirely on the prince of hell lounging on Grace’s chiffon bed. The two women broke apart like curtains and resting behind them, on the bench beneath the window like he’d fallen asleep reading a book, was Jesse’s body.

Lucie gasped and took a marginal step closer to him, but stopped.

Death begets death begets death. You cannot take from death without giving to death first and sometimes it takes more than its share.

“Grace!” Lucie reached forward.

Belial snapped his fingers and Tatiana’s body crumpled to the floor with a sickening crack. Her neck lolled to the side like a broken stick. Grace screamed and fell back against the wall behind her just as Jesse gasped from the window seat.

Limbs flailed around as if he were trying to save himself from drowning until he fell to the floor on his hands and knees gasping for breath in lungs that haven’t been used in years. Lucie thought she could hear his heart beating until she realized it was her own. He sat up and clutched his chest, his blue, green eyes darted frantically around the room.

Grace fell to the floor beside him. “Jesse, it’s alright. It’s alright!”

Jesse wouldn’t look at her. His eyes locked on Lucie. “No, what have you done.”

“I haven’t done anything,” said Lucie.

“Then why are you here?” His face turned red in the cheeks. “I told you specifically not to come. Damn it, Lucie, why didn’t you listen.”

Lucie moved back a step. “I did listen. I came here to tell Grace that I no longer wanted to be a part of our agreement. I came here to tell her that I was giving up. I thought I was honoring your wishes. How was I to know that he was waiting here for me?”

“I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t believe me,” groaned Jesse. “I thought you’d think I was bluffing to keep you from trying.”

Lucie scoffed. “And look how well your dishonesty worked out.”

Grace cried over their dead mother and clutched at her thick collar in a feeble attempt to wake her up.

“Enough,” said Belial, growing bored of the exchange in front of him. “I have upheld my bargain. It’s time for us to go.”

“No!” Jesse tried to stand. Belial cocked his head and Jesse fell back against Grace.

“Another move and I’ll kill you again, this time with no chance of return.” Belial’s eyes flickered over to Lucie. “I’ve realized I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I tried to capture the Carstairs girl thinking that she would get you to join me, but she’s far too much trouble. No, there was another pawn hiding right underneath my nose. The Blackthorn boy. It didn’t occur to me until you came to visit Grace and asked for her assistance in bringing him back. She was a good pet and delivered the message to Tatiana who in turn delivered the message to me.”

Lucie glared at Grace with her arms wrapped around Jesse’s shoulders. But how could she blame her? If the tables were reversed and it was James she was trying to revive, she might have done the same. No, she was positive she would have done the same. She’d allowed Jesse to give his last breath to her brother to save his life. In the end, she had been willing to give something up for the life of someone she loved. She could not fault Grace that.

“I’m not going with you,” she said. “The entire clave will be here shortly and you’ll be banished back to whatever level of hell you came from.”

Belial grinned. Despite herself, Lucie found it quite a charming smile. “Wonderful. A family reunion. It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to my daughter. I’ve wondered how she fared all these years.”

“She fared nicely without the likes of you,” said Lucie, cursing herself for not bringing a short blade or at least a couple of throwing knives. She’d left in such a rush, she didn’t find a need. Her uncle was notorious for hiding weapons about the manor. Her aunt was always cursing him about it when they were children and Christopher or Anna would somehow wander down the hallway with a curve blade in their chubby little hands.

The hallway, Lucie nearly gasped as she remembered the cross blades hanging in the hallway.

The door behind her remained open. Only a few steps back and she could make a break for it and at least have a chance at defending herself.

“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” said Belial, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Not unless you want me to start breaking bones in their bodies starting with the smallest.” He raised on his hands and folded his fingers. The door slammed behind Lucie and she heard the faint sound of the lock. “We don’t have much time. I have a very short window back into my realm and we’ll need to be going now. That is if you want your friends to live.”

“Lucie.” Jesse fought against Grace’s hold. “Do not go with him. I’m not meant to be here. I’m not meant to be alive.”

“How rude,” said Belial. “Do you have any idea how hard your mother and sister worked to bring you back to life. The least you could do is be more grateful.”

“If I go with you,” said Lucie. “If I agree to do what you ask, you’ll promise to leave them alone?”

“You have my word,” grinned Belial and extended his hand towards Lucie.

Every instinct drove her to pull away, to run, but then some stronger instinct took control, and of their own free will her fingers closed round Belial’s. Heat seared down and through her, swift as wildfire chased by wind, and as it moved she felt something strong and heavy wrap around her waist.

Her connection broke with Belial as she was dragged back to the center of the room. She turned her neck and looked up.

“Thomas?”

His face was contorted in rage as he yelled over his shoulder to the hallway, “Now!”

A figure dressed in Shadowhunter gear stepped into the room. Lucie didn’t recognize him at first as his face was hidden behind a curtain of black hair. A spear flew from his hand towards Belial.

Before she could even blink, it’d somehow stopped inches from Belial’s chest, and shot back at the shadow hunter with blinding speed impaling the person in the chest and pinned them to the wall like a collected insect.

It wasn’t until then that Lucie caught a glimpse of the face against the wall. Mouth open and eyes glossy as he stared down at the stick protruding from his chest was Alastair.

A/N: Hope you all are well! Good news, next update is coming in just a short seven days, Dec 13. You know the drill: hit that like, share, leave me comment, and follow along for more updates. Stay safe and stay healthy!

#thelastnight #jordelia fanfiction #james x cordelia #james and Cordelia #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie x Jesse #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #chain of gold #Chain of Iron #chain of gold fanfic #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles

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propsandmayhems · 4 years

Note

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn

Lucie Herondale should be happy.

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

Yet there was still something missing.

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

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

But Lucie Herondale was nothing if not persistent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucie swallowed and nodded, unable to form words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ofthomas · 4 years

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⌠ GIANCARLO COMMARE, 23, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, THOMAS “TOMMY” BLACK! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT + AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL HAND TO HAND COMBAT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (disheveled brunette curls, the soft strum of an acoustic guitar, cigarette smoke clung to a white t-shirt, and a serious, unwavering gaze). when it’s the (pisces)’s birthday on 3/08/97, they always request their PASTA BOLOGNESE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ deanna, 25, she/her, est ⍀

NAME: Thomas Edward Black

KNOWN AS: Tommy

BIRTHDATE: March 8, 1997

ASTROLOGY: Pisces sun / Pisces moon / Virgo rising

HOMETOWN: London, England

GENDER: Cis male ( he/him )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

HEIGHT: 6'1"

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Brown

TATTOOS: Hummingbird on his forearm

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Arabic

IMMEDIATE FAMILY.

Robert Black: father, former MI5 agent, now mercenary

George Eaton: father, owner of Quantum Tech

Charles Eaton: brother ( adopted )

FALL ‘20 SCHEDULE.

PE 301: The Power of Deescalation

GEN 103: Know Your Treaties

AT 301: Disarming the Enemy

TE 202: Advanced Hand-to-Hand

AE 101: What is Encryption?

CP 202: Covert Ops in the Public Eye

ABOUT.

Tommy is one of two adopted sons of two Blackthorne alums and spy legacies who fell in love, Robert Black & George Eaton. To understand Tommy is to understand his dads:

The Eaton family is an American legacy family, though by the time Tommy and his brother are adopted, George Eaton has moved out of the spy world and instead uses his knowledge of technology to start a software development company and AIs. They had only adopted two kids because George had reached a breakthrough in his company -- one of his employees had created an AI that they had been working towards -- but not long afterwards the AI work ( and the employee who created it ) went missing. After this, his company slowly starts a downwards spiral, and it financially affects the Black-Eaton family badly.

The missing employee eventually is found and killed by Robert so they can steal back the software, but it ends up being the wrong software they had stolen back. As far as they’re concerned, the software died with the employee ( Ophelia’s mom ) .

Robert Black’s grandfather was a former Chief of Intelligence at MI5, making the Black family well-known in the UK spy world. After graduating from Blackthorne, he had been able to get his own job at MI5, which was the reason for him and George moving to London together. More to come about him later !

Tommy and his brother ( who aren’t blood relatives, but were adopted together ) , are kept in the loop with everything regarding the spy world, because one they too would follow in their fathers’ footsteps and join the spy world. It could’ve easily been a stressful situation to grow up in, but Tommy’s dads have always been kind and he has a positive relationship with them both, so the spy world has been a future that Tommy has always wanted for himself, rather than one his parents are pushing him into.

At the age of eight Tommy gets really sick and nearly doesn’t make it. It’s a miracle that he survives, but the family suddenly have all these bills and doesn’t know how to pay for them. Robert is far too proud to ask his family for money ( will forever feel on thin ice with them because of his sexuality, which took them a long time to come to terms with ) , and George’s company is bleeding money each day, so they’re forced to take matters into his own hands.

Robert has no choice but to quietly moonlight as a hitman for extra cash. And the money’s great, at least for a while ! He continues it well after they’ve paid off the bills, though eventually MI5 finds out and immediately fires and blacklists him to work for any other spy agencies. It’s a rough life, and the Black and Eaton families shame them and stop speaking to them for a long time. Tommy, of course, internalizes this as his fault, knowing it only had to be done because he got sick. While his dads never made him feel like that ( because I cannot stress enough that he does not have daddy issues okay ) , it makes him decide that no matter what, everything he does going forward will be for the sake of his parents.

So he becomes the perfect son, making sure to get the best grades and getting into the best prep school ( tesch prep ) so he had a smooth acceptance into his higher education goal : Blackthorne Institute. Both his fathers had loved it there ( and not just because they had met there ) , so Tommy knows that it’s the place for him.

Despite his better judgment, his dads convince him to take a year off after high school and have some fun before going to Blackthorne ( gee i wonder why ) . He spends this time traveling and working odd jobs to save money, and it’s during his travels that he meets a civilian and falls in love. One year turns into two because of this relationship, and he’s so love he’s seriously considering giving up his plans for good, but it’s his brother that is able to talk sense into him and remind him of the life he had left behind. Tommy, unfortunately, is a wuss and can’t deal with saying goodbye himself, because he knows he doesn’t have it in him to make the right move, so he has his brother be the one to essentially end things with her. What he doesn’t know is that his brother tells the girl Tommy died, haha !

So Tommy and his brother move to America and go to Blackthorne together… and maybe it’s because of all the stories he had heard, or because Tommy WANTS to like it so badly, but he really loves his time there. Sure, it’s dirtier and not as nice as he had imagined it to be, but he’s surrounded by people in the business that he wants to be in. He’s also quick to realize how much of a mistake taking two years off had been, because it takes him nearly an entire semester to get back to the skill level he had been at previously. Tommy vows to not let anything else get in the way of his career, at least until he has something to show for himself.

He had been bitter when Blackthorne closed and he’s still bitter about it now, because number one on his list of goals had always been to graduate from his parents’ alma mater. So naturally he’s bitter about being at Gallagher, and thinks it’s not as great as Blackthorne, especially after the disaster explosion that was last year. He won’t voice his opinion to just anyone, because he’s not looking to get chewed out, but he’s not a fan.

He’s about as serious as he sounds, personality wise. It takes a lot to make him smile and a lot more to make him laugh, and Tommy is more known for raising his hand in class or outside smoking a cigarette than much else. He’s quiet but not shy, just doesn’t see the point in talking without purpose ( and hates when people do it themselves ) . Has his eye on the prize which is a nice job for himself and being successful and making his dads proud. He’s a lil broody and sarcastic, kinda gets mistaken for a bad boy but? He’s not? He’s a giant fucking nerd thanks.

Also really into music!!! It’s kinda his thing from when he was a kid. He knows how to play piano, guitar, and bass.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

A bestie!!!

Other musicians he can jam out with ty

Friends from Blackthorne!!!

Ex-Roommates

Friends in general (though lbr they’d have to take school seriously and deal with his quiet ass)

Family friends

People he met while traveling, particularly in Italy and the UK

On-again-off-again hookup

Others in his major

Smoking buddies

People he doesn’t like bc they don’t take their studies seriously

People who don’t like him

Someone have a crush on his brooding ass

Literally anything from his previous year at Gallagher

look here pls

I’m legit blanking but anything pls!!

#gallagher:intro

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ofclaires · 4 years

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⌠ MAYA HAWKE, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CLAIRE WALSH! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (chipped black nail polish, a leather jacket with boxing gloves slung over the shoulder, bandaged knuckles, and a wicked smirk). when it’s the (aries)’s birthday on 3/31/99, they always request MAC & CHEESE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati 22, she/her, est ⍀

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION.

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Kat Stratford - 10 Things I Hate About You

Faith Lehane - Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Mandy Milkovich - Shameless

Akane Owari – Danganronpa

Arya Stark – Game of Thrones

Kim Kelly – Freaks and Geeks

Kyo Sohma – Fruits Basket

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO.

pre-gallagher.

her parents were young as hell when they had her so she was raised by her grandma in her earlier years ! claire gets a lot of her values from her grandma, mainly her biting sarcasm and devil-may-care sort of attitude. she tells claire stories of her grandfather, who was a champion boxer and it ignites claire’s interest in the sport from a young age. she grows up without a tv and plays outside a lot.

her grandma dies when claire’s about eight years old and she goes to live with her mom, who spends the money from the will about as fast as it lands in her pocket. her mom dates a lot of unsavory dudes.

she and her mom actually grow quite close over the years, but a lot of times it’s claire taking care of her mom and not the other way around. the entrance to their trailer is like a revolving door for shady dudes and her mother drinks too much and sort of acts like an overgrown teenager, never ready to let go of her youth. claire learns a lot of responsibility and independence as a result of this.

her mom finally lands a dude that seems like a genuinely nice guy that makes her want to settle down and become a housewife. claire likes seeing her mom starting to act like an adult, and their lives start to turn around. he’s rich and they wind up moving in with him after the wedding, but things change shortly after, and he reveals a darker, more manipulative and abusive side of himself.

he takes claire out of her passion, boxing, because it’s not ladylike enough, and he starts talking to claire’s mom about boarding school. it’s then that he starts fighting your mom more physically as they disagree.

the climax of the drama is when he hits claire ( she’s sneaking around and still boxing ) , but claire knows how to hit back hard. claire’s mom gets caught in the fray, it’s a huge fight, and claire nearly kills the guy ( tbi for sure. )

as a result of the incident, claire is recruited to a spy prep school in new york at age 16, her sophomore of high school. claire’s angry and closed off, and has a difficult time making friends in high school. but she does go through a lot of anger management and such.

gallagher academy.

YEAR ONE: claire gets adjusted to school at gallagher academy, determined to prove herself among some of the world’s best. she quickly gains a reputation for her prowess in combat and spends long hours in the gym training. she slowly starts to open herself up to the idea of making friends.

YEAR TWO: even though claire’s made friends, she still keeps secrets about her past, keeping her guard up. she receives letters from her mom about a new guy she’s seeing, and an invitation to her mother’s wedding. she ignores it. she and her mom still haven’t spoken since she was sixteen. near the end of the year, she gets a postcard that her mom is moving to iceland, but she does nothing about it.

YEAR THREE: ( where our story started )

boys come to campus and claire feels like she has to fight harder for her reputation as THE BEST, isn’t pleased with their presence due to a longstanding distrust when it comes to men.

claire’s ego is boosted after she’s been chosen for a MISSION, to explore the abandoned boys’ school, blackthorne academy. there, she and mary sakamoto discover that it was a school for assassins. explains why claire keeps getting her ass kicked – these boys have been trained to kill.

witness protection kids come to campus, resulting in the death of one of them and gallagher student, amelia taylor. claire feels helpless as a result, always thinking of herself as a protector and gallagher has always been her stronghold, her safe place, and it all feels threatened.

claire has a falling out with a friend and feels super alone with all this shit going on and winds out reaching out to her mom. i wrote a self-para here, but her mom invites her to come stay for the summer.

when a brotherhood member is discovered on campus, she teams up with a group of...unlikely allies, and sneaks into the sublevels to kick his ass. his current status is unknown, and he’s quite possibly dead. either way, as far as she knows, they were never caught.

claire visits her mom in iceland for the summer (details here) and they sort of mend things. she meets her moms new husband and actually likes him.

PERSONALITY.

DETERMINED – when claire sets her mind to something, she will stop at nothing to accomplish it. she’d probably even risk death to accomplish her goals, she simply can’t accept failure.

HARD-WORKING – claire can pretty much always be found in the gym, trying to make herself better. it’s honestly a running joke how often claire is working out, but there’s a basis in it. honestly, claire thinks her only value is her muscle, so if that’s what she’s good at, she’s going to be the best. she’s that kid in your gym class that’s going way too hard for no fucking reason like calm down.

BRAVE – there’s little that claire fears, and even her fears don’t generally stop her from accomplishing her goals. you could chalk up some of her bravery to determination, but she’s been through enough that she doesn’t really stop to consider what she’s going to lose. so maybe it’s also stupidity!

LOYAL – it’s really challenging for claire to form connections, but when she does, she latches on. when she cares for someone, she really cares for them, and she’s pretty ride or die. this sort of loyalty can be a burden for some of her friends, because she can be somewhat overbearing.

ANGRY – claire’s probably best known for her anger, it’s like she walks around with a fuse waiting to be lit at the slightest inconvenience. funnily enough, her training has made her better at controlling it, but she’s still known to snap.

RECKLESS – claire often acts impulsively, says the first thought in her mind, does the first thing she can think to do in order to solve a problem. act first, ask questions later is usually her mantra, and sometimes it saves her ass – and sometimes it comes back to bite her in it.

DISTANT – claire finds it hard to open up or form connections with people, not often readily sharing her feels with people. she’s really averse to personal questions but she’s gotten better about sharing things about herself since making more friends at gallagher. still, she’s somewhat hard to get to know. i will refer you to this musing.

BRASH – she’s pretty cocky to a point that often comes off as rude, but the positive spin on it is that you’ll always know where you stand with claire. whether it’s good or bad, she’s up front, but most people she trains with are probably sick of her arrogance.

HEADCANONS/RANDOM FACTS.

can usually be found exercising. she’s really into sports and fitness and prior to the berlin internship, she used to spend her summers working at summer camps for athletes-in-training. she’s a pretty good coach, and tutors some of the other students that need help with their athletic prowess, although she’s described as a bit intense.

identified as bisexual until fairly recently, realizing that she doesn’t care or have much interest in romantic relationships with men ! so, now she identifies as a lesbian.

cannot sit through a movie to save her life, claire’s easily distracted and bored, always needing something to do. she didn’t grow up with a television set in her home either, so she hasn’t seen many movies and is a little out of touch with all things pop culture.

takes pictures like a mom, if you ask her to take a photo of you it’ll probably a) be a little blurry, b) have her thumb in it, or c) both.

really likes podcasts! she listens to them a lot during her workouts, while she runs the track, or anything else. claire’s not exactly known for her intelligence ( among the astronomical iqs of other gallagher students at least ) but she can spout some knowledge on things you wouldn’t expect.

generally a hard-ass but she’s a softie around animals, particularly dogs or cats, but catch her cooing and talking in a baby voice around puppies, she’s like a completely different person, pretty much.

drink of choice is whiskey, neat.

despite her preference for hand to hand combat, threat elimination has given her a multitude of skills. she keeps two knives on her at all times and sometimes wears a bulletproof vest for kicks. she’s prepared for anything.

#gallagher:intro #no need to reblog this on the intro blog tho ty #just updating everything!#abuse tw #violence tw #(light mentions/not much detail unless u click the bio tho)

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rachelsreviews13 · 4 years

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Title: Queen of Air and Darkness (Dark Artifices #3) Published: 2018 Number of pages: 912 pages Genres: YA Fantasy Rating: 4.5/5 stars

*WARNING: Spoilers Ahead!!

Plot Summary: After the tragic deaths that occurred in the Council Hall, the Clave is full of those who are devastated and enraged. This gives the Cohort the opportunity to begin seizing control. The only ones who can stop them are the Blackthorns and their allies. Yet, struggles begin when they are split between Los Angeles, Alicante, and Faerie. Unforeseen forces complicate matters while also helping them answer some important questions. Cassandra Clare concludes her Dark Artifices trilogy with shocking surprises, heartbreaking moments, and questionable victory.

Review: This was literally insane. It was so big not just in physical size and length, but content as well. Yet, while we got a few conclusions on things, way too much was still unanswered. So, while I loved this book, I was also frustrated with the open end. Now let’s focus on some specifics. I have three angry pieces, one mixed feelings, and one favorite. Also, if you have not read Queen of Air and Darkness, PLEASE LEAVE, MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. Angry about: 1)Julian - I hated Julian without emotions. We really saw that ruthless nature Kieran pointed out in Lady Midnight. I didn't want it, though. Honestly, because I hated Julian so much, I actually liked Emma in this one. She had to try to be the voice of reason for Julian. Unfortunately, she was not very successful most of the time. 2)Parabati curse - This is almost a mixed feelings piece, but I think I'm more irritated than interested in it. While I liked some of the full explanation as to why parabati cannot be in romantic love, I did not like the way everything happened with Emma and Julian. I had been enjoying the battle, but when they turned into giant nephilim, it kind of ruined it. It was also a somewhat quick resolution to the issue and a bit predictable. I pretty much knew Cassandra Clare wouldn't kill off her main couple. 3)Zara - I just needed this girl to go. That was all I wanted. That was all I needed. Emma had two chances she could have done it. Just stab her. But no. There had to be mercy. And guess what? Then EMMA got stabbed. Many issues could have been resolved with Zara taken out. I think one of my number one problems with Zara is that her actions are one of the reasons we’re having another series when I thought this was going to be the last one. I am not entirely pleased with this because I know we won’t be getting it for a long time since The Last Hours series has to happen first. If there’s going to be more to the story, I want it NOW...please. Mixed feelings on: Thule - I found it really interesting to read about an alternate Shadowhunters timeline. Yet, that world was so dark. It was a bit rough to read. I liked that Livvy was alive, but then everyone else was dead or Endarkened. Like gosh. Ouch. Stab me through the chest why don’t you. I also have mixed feelings with this because even though an alternate timeline was new for Cassandra Clare, it is not really a new concept in today’s books, movies, and TV shows. I have read and watched so many alternate timelines and multiverses lately. I’m starting to get just a bit tired of it all. My #1 favorite scene was: Malec wedding!!! - The way this was delivered = L.O.V. E. It filled me with such happiness. I was just so thrilled when Alec proposed and then everyone else was setting it up so they could go straight to it. I needed this at the end to soften my anger with the rest of the end, especially the last scene when Ash and Dark Jace showed up to the Seelie Queen. I just kind of push all that to the side and remember - MALEC WEDDING!!!

Final Thoughts: While some parts frustrated and pained me, I did enjoy this book. Sometimes I like pain. Give it to me. Make me feel something. That is at least one reliable thing Cassandra Clare does, makes me feel something, even if it is negative. That means she knows how to write complex, intriguing stories. And that is why I will continue to come to the Shadowhunter world and recommend it to everyone I can.

Thanks for reading!

#queen of air and darkness #dark artifices #cassandra clare #shadowhunters #book review

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garreaus-a · 4 years

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hi, everyone ! it’s jessie again. i couldn’t help myself, ok ? i had to bring in my Chaotic Good, espionage-elite, French son samuel ... i hope u like him :’). he’s a character i’ve had awhile from a previous rpg / my indie ( aka the Archive ) so i adjusted his backstory a lil’ to fit here. again, please hmu on discord if you’d like to plot !! <3

⌠ BEN BARNES, 36, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SAMUEL GARREAU ! originally hailing from BLACKTHORNE, this alum specializes in THREAT ELIMINATION. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( complacent smirks paired with attentive eyes; the aroma of expensive, but fresh cologne; the decision to just “wing it”; a cigarette between lips ). it’s the ( leo )’s birthday on 08/14/1983, and when they were still in school their most requested dish was BOUILLABAISSE from the school’s chefs. hopefully their presence can help ease the minds of gallagher students.

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈.

in the late 1970s-80s, there were a string of infamous art robberies and trafficking occurring around france, which linked to notorious art thieves from both france and america. french-american cia agent matthieu garreau was assigned to assist the central directorate of the judicial police and the dgse in their investigation. french art curator adeyln legrand ( her fam is Old Money rich bc they own museums across the country ) was involved in the case as well, helping the agencies identify the stolen art pieces and their worth. as soon as matthieu laid eyes on her, it was love at first sight !

samuel elias garreau was born in paris, france — just before matthieu was sent back to washington d.c. he was raised by his mother and maternal grandparents ( who lived in marseille ) for most of his childhood. his childhood was filled with love, art, linguistics & french cuisine. he became a polyglot at a very young age, knowing how to speak french, english and spanish fluently. his father visited his wife and son as much as he could in france, but eventually, the two moved to washington d.c. when samuel was 10-years-old.

a bit of context on the garreau family: the garreau family name has been involved in espionage for a VERY long time. lineages stem back to being loyal spies for the french monarchy for many generations before the surviving garreaus immigrated to america to escape WWII. many relatives eventually returned to france, but samuel’s paternal great-grandparents decided to continue to raise their children in the united states & establish connections with american intelligence agencies.

immediately, matthieu wanted to begin espionage training ( already samuel was a couple years behind in hand-to-hand combat / weaponry training, so he’s eager ). adelyn was a bit Conflicted but ... lil’ energetic, happy-go-lucky samuel was ECSTATIC !! what better way to bond with your father, am i right ??

those 4 years before spy prep high school was full of father-son bonding, grueling combat training, & survival skill training. but, samuel was also a normal, private elementary / middle school student in washington d.c. it was a lot of pressure — juggling school, his blossoming social life, and keeping the whole “ i’m training to become a spy ” thing a secret bc sam CANNOT stop talking

before samuel busted at the seams, he was sent off to a prestigious spy prep school on the east coast to truly hone his skills and begin to identify what he may excel at as a spy; however, sam didn’t take it seriously ... like at ALL. it was mostly because he was so bored — he needed something stimulating / challenging. often samuel was being a Sneaky jerk, pulling pranks & being a kleptomaniac; however, his grades showed the opposite of his delinquent behavior. he was excelling in all of his classes.

the garreaus did not know what to do with samuel. literally, they had a whole damn family meeting about where he’s headed in his spy career bc there’s NO WAY any spy university would be willing to take him. the plan would be to utilize their connections in france and get him enrolled in an academy there until ...

blackthorne academy showed up outta nowhere and was like “ hey, we’ll whip his ass into shape. give him to us. ” the garreaus were reluctant due to the academy’s reputation and suspicious as to HOW blackthorne caught wind of their samuel; however, maybe this is what he needed. the most against this was his mother, but her voice held no authority.

samuel was in for a RUDE awakening at blackthorne. maybe it was for the better ? he majored in THREAT ELIMINATION + LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION ( whatever was blackthorne’s version of those were ).

his first year there practically BROKE him, but by his sophomore year, his flaws became refined skills. somehow, his extrovert / devil-may-care and shrewd personality still shined amongst his callous and/or sadistic peers.

the codename HERMES seemed to be used by his instructors sometimes to “ make fun ” of samuel, the label representing his ability to outwit his peers, mischievous and intrepid nature, proficient adaptability, and most importantly, he mastered the art of infiltration & extraction — just as the god of thieves would ( the ONLY time he’s the quietest compared to his peers tbh ) u know ... also stole lives too ... i know that’s cheesy SHHH

of course ... we all know the whole deal about blackthorne. he was molded into the perfect assassin, not a sophisticated spy that could have a drink with james bond or ... with his prestigious, royal spy family.

throughout his many years of fieldwork across the globe, samuel was many things for both private clients and espionage / government agencies ( mostly doing a lot of infiltration / extraction & surveillance undercover missions ), even sometimes an actual thief for the right price.

however, despite samuel’s slight identity crisis, he earned quite the name for himself in the espionage world and solidified himself as a reliable secret agent. but he’s still a pain in the butt :-P

during blackthorne’s last years, samuel often was asked to come by as a guest instructor, a desperate attempt to liven things back up to relive its better days. despite the absolute DEMONS his students were being, it surprised him that he actually enjoyed teaching.

so, he was a bit shocked ( and ecstatic ) to hear that gallagher requested HIM out of the many blackthorne alumni to be a part of the faculty, let alone the threat elimination instructor. who would be a better teacher to teach future spy how to take down an assassin than an ACTUAL assassin ( and one who made quite a Reputation at blackthorne for outsmarting his upperclassmen and instructors ) ?

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈.

tbh, samuel is the epitome of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he lives for the adrenaline rush; he will go out of his way and even risk his life sometimes to make missions more exciting ... but obviously, with a little planning beforehand to make sure missions are completed successfully

sam surprisingly is cooperative ( even if he really wants to do the opposite, he’d listen unless his quick-wit is essential for the situation ). his many years of experiences have made him realize how important intel and medical agents are to missions. he has a lot of respect for his fellow agents and students who aren’t concentrating their studies in the more physical combative majors

samuel likes being a nuisance. he’s quite devious and gets away with it a lot LMAO

he’s such a thespian it’s Unreal ... he’s so dramatic. but, this makes him excel at undercover missions bc this man enjoys acting way too much

samuel LOVES his students and it really cracks him up because if blackthorne student sam heard he’d be a mentor in the future, he’d laugh in your face

aka he’s the Cool Teacher at gallagher ok :’)

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙴𝚁 / 𝙵𝚄𝙽 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂.

he still has the slightest french accent when he speaks, mostly to latch on to a remaining attachment he has to his mother and previous “ normal life ”

an excellent cook ... obviously he enjoys cooking french cuisine the most

he also is an avid art enthusiast and also loves fashion and architecture. he spends the majority of his salary on designer clothes and art pieces

if the faculty have to become normal professors, samuel is definitely up for teaching anything world history related !!

randomly knows a lot of natural history trivia thanks to his maternal grandmother, who was a botanist

the languages samuel currently knows is: french, english, spanish, italian, russian, german, arabic, japanese, and chinese ( mandarin & cantonese )

and that’s it !! im exhuasted and i can’t think of any wcs atm so pls if u guys have anything in mine PLEASE let me know :’)

#『 ✰ ｡ . * » ┇ 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙤𝙪𝙨 ╱ ooc. 』#gallagher:intro #this is So Long ... im SORRY

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codeblve · 4 years

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howdy y’all ! lilac’s the name, writing trashlord character’s the game. i hail from a lil island known as australia... so in essence, i am never gonna be online at the same time as anyone else dkjfghdkfjgd. but !! don’t let this deter you. like a lil ol’ boomerang i’ll eventually find my way into your dms and hopefully we can plot/write with all your incredible muses. <3 a lil info about me though, i’m a tea connoisseur, sims enthusiast, and i talk daily about how i consider the barbie films cinematic masterpieces. if i haven’t scared you off and you’d like to get to know my sweet and memey tough boi, please press that readmore to complete your transaction.

⌠LUKE HEMMINGS, TWENTY ONE, CISMALE, HE/HIM⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, BLUE HAWTHORNE! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + COVERT OPERATIONS (CP); and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a smiley face traced into the precipitation on a mirror after a long and warm shower, a constellation of bruises strewn across your body, impatient foot tapping in the hallows of detention, chopsticks fashioned into walrus tusks over a meal, climbing higher and higher with no sign of stopping). when it’s the (aquarius)’s birthday on 2/13/1998, they always request their CHEESY NACHOS WITH EXTRA GUAC from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

( PERSONALITY ! )

( for more details about blue, check out his stats & hcs here ! )

he is playful, jocular, impulsive, and honestly? immature lmao. he is honestly a Soft Jock™

he’s always been looking for the childhood he never got to have, y’know? he does this in the way he’s always cracking jokes, a bit of a class clown, disruptive. a wholesome prank or two.

he gets in trouble in school more than his fair share, simply for daydreaming or sneaking out. he doesn’t let the institution define him, but he can take orders when needed. he can be very loyal tho, and much like eggsy in kingsmen, if someone asked him to choose between his dog or orders ?? he’s always choosing the dog kdjgf

he is secretly very insecure and always has a need to please. if someone doesn’t like him, he’ll tear himself apart to figure out why.

he’s always telling jokes and always laughing. he’s known for his Memes and is always a good time to be around. social butterfly, gregarious. chances are if you don’t know him, you’ve heard him dkfgjdf

he’s also a bit Anti-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( sex lmao ) because ya boi has commitment issues so high they’re floating out there in space

he can also be very maternal when the need arises. he is not good at talking about emotions but he’ll give you a meme or a hug to Heal You

he very much reminds me of the human embodiment of a puppy. cannot be alone for very long, has a short attention span, and craves validation lmfao. give him a squeaky toy and he will be Contented

as a soon-to-be spy he can be Tough in the field when he needs to be but he’s also v sensitive. most see him as a macho, just genuinely happy kinda dude but, he truly feels a lot. he won’t let you know that, though.

he struggles academically as he has a short attention span most of the time and thinks too little of himself. however, he’s a lot brighter than most people give him credit for. he’s incredibly creative and a lateral thinker. maths makes him want to die, tho. he does shine in physical trials at least, which is something !

also what’s money? blue does not know. he grew up with hardly anything, and has been working since he could. for this reason he’s quite frugal and struggles to throw things away.

blue’s troubled past ( explained below ) is something he doesn’t acknowledge, and not a lot of people know about. to many, he’s known as the local Meme Dealer. but to a lucky few, he’s known as a friend who would do anything for you.

most just know him as the moron named after a colour tho. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

( HISTORY ! ) - tw: illness/cancer, death, substance ( alcohol / drugs ) & depression.

blue hawthorne, who never goes by his birthname bc he hates it dfkjgdgdf, was born in the town of sparks, nevada !

it was always just blue and his mother, margarette. he never met his father and he was gone long before blue’s mother could even tell him about a pregnancy test. cut off from her family due to having a child out of wedlock, the pair started a life for themselves. all they had was a humble abode in a trailer park. material possessions were lacking, but blue never felt like he went without.

blue’s mother was by very definition blue’s best friend. they both shared a love of music and ballet, and margarette worked as many jobs as she could to allow for her son to take lessons. starting quite young, at the age of four or five, blue was actually quite good. the usually mischievous and erratic child found structure in the discipline, and it was the thing that brought him the most happiness.

as a child blue was often teased for his interest, and the fact that he was so close with his mother. despite being incredibly short and frail at the time, he was also very outspoken and strong-willed, and never let his peers get the best of him. he danced, he laughed, he bruised his knees at any given opportunity. made a lot of mistakes. what he lacked in possessions he gained in the abundance of joy he felt in his heart growing up. his mother and a few of his close friends were his world.

when blue turned fifteen, everything changed.

( illness / cancer tw ) the jubilant, mischievous, but altogether kind-hearted boy was given the heart-breaking news that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. margarette hawthorne, much like her son, was a fighter - and didn’t let such a diagnosis keep her down. despite their dwindling lack of funds now going towards medical bills, and the fact blue began sacrificing his own childhood as he took to the role of a caretaker of sorts for his mother, he never took his time with her for granted.

things were okay for a while. there was a point where the doctors were convinced that she was going to make it. blue was a fool. blue believed them.

at the age of sixteen, blue lost everything. he lost his place to live, he lost his childhood and lust for life, and he lost the person he loved most in the world. he lost his best friend.

it wasn’t long before the overbearing sympathy from those around him soured blue. he was sick of being bullied, people not liking him, and altogether not being in control of his own life. most of all, he felt so hopeless as his best friend in the entire world was starting to fade. so what did this boy do ? he quit ballet (the thing he’d loved since he was able to stand), he started drinking, he got involved with a very bad crowd and became a frequenter of the local police station. blue became a certified Bad Boy™

blue was sent to live with the grandparents that despised him and never acknowledged his existence before that moment, having met them at his mother’s funeral. righteous and conservative in their views, they had cast aside their daughter when she had blue, and only reached out to her in her final months. for this reason, blue despised these people (he refused to call them family). he tried his best to be appreciative of a house and food ( which was much better than anything he had growing up ). but he was cold. always cold.

( substance tw ) in his latter adolescence, blue fell into a rapid succession of bad decisions. still small, still frail in stature, he found himself at a dissonance with his image and began growing insecure about his looks, the years of torment weighing on him. he found anesthetic in the party scene outside of school, taking to alcohol and drugs as a sedative from the life he felt forced to lead. he couldn’t decide if he hated himself or he hated the world more.

at the age of 17, his rap sheet seemed to grow with each rise and fall of the sun. he was hardly ever ‘home’ and couch surfed. at the age of 17 he’d gotten his own car and lived more out of that than the stuffy house on top of the hill where he was supposed to be. his grades were debris lost in his tumultuous storm, he was always looking for validation from the kids he hung around with and made some very poor decisions in the hopes he’d be liked. in the hopes he’d find a new family.

the partying, the stream of hook ups, his criminal record (mainly with petty theft, a few write ups for public intoxication and fighting), the instability of his living situation and his future all came to boil just before he turned 18. physically he’d started to fill out, and look more like the man people know today. he was no longer frail and no longer weak, and when asked, he used to his fists to forge that path he thought he wanted.

after a dark night, it became apparent to blue that his path of self destruction was hurting no one but himself. things had to change.

through nothing short than a McMiracle (sponsored by Ronald McDonald, bc no one else is rich enough to pull it off lmfao) blue managed to scrape by and complete high school. not well by any means. but he did it.

it was about now that blue had been informed of a small school called blackthorne academy. details were scarce, but what drew the blond’s attention was the tuition ( or lack thereof ). his acceptance cited his physical capabilities as seen through his many years of dance and explained why he was of particular interest to the school. he was suspicious, to say the least. but blue knew he wanted to become something, and to go to this school would not only take him away from a life he wanted to forget, but he would become self sufficient, and be able to leave his toxic family situation on his own terms.

bidding farewell to the grandparents he was only beginning to know, his grandfather saw no reason to extend her kindnesses, and cut blue off. at the age of 18 he was homeless, with nothing but a car and a handful of pokemon cards he’d had as a kid. not worth anything or even particularly sentimental, he just likes pokemon kgfjfd.

living in his car for a while before eventually crashing with a close friend, blue managed to absorb his days in work before eventually starting his tenure at blackthorne. although blue’s wild days are behind him, there are some things locked in his past that still haunt him. there are doors he never hopes to open again. but he got his fresh start, and is determined to live the life a young blue would have wanted for him, and one his mother could be proud of. and who knows, maybe he could go on and save the world.

( WANTED CONNECTIONS ! )

all of these are absolute trash, and i much prefer plotting with specific characters in mind to cater it to our muses and make it unique to them. (~: but i do have a few wanted connections here as a starting off point !! if any of them really call to you though, please let me know as i would adore to have anything listed !! with that in mind, i wanted to include a sample of a few of the connects on the page here to make things a lil easier.

— *. ; ( co-workers ) || this connection is a little up in the air as i understand that students aren’t allowed to leave campus without staff supervision, and tuition isn’t awfully high if you can’t afford it ! however, blue has no money, and if at all possible he would try and get some sort of job whilst at blackthorne/gallaghers. whether that be doing odd jobs as part of his covert ops classes, or even working for the campus doing things like lawn maintenance, working in the stables, or literally anything that was open ! ( his ‘job’ could even be bringing in dkfjgdf some sorts of contraband to sell to other students, lmfao. nothing illegal, just stuff you can’t get on campus ). this connection is meant for any muses that may also be employed, or want them to be, and these two could be co-workers ! with an admin blessing we can figure out what is logistically possible within the plot, and if your muse already has a job i’d be very interested to have blue be a coworker if you were at all interested !! <3

— *. ; ( protector ) || there are two things blue hates most in this world: liars, and bullies. as an older ( and arguably large ) student, he comes to find someone who is going through a rough time assimilating to life at the academy for whatever reason. on the surface neither of them have anything in common, but the pair form a sibling like bond, and blue is willing to do anything to protect their friend.

— *. ; ( aggressor ) || blue is very mild mannered for the most part, save for any jokes he likes to make. however, there is someone on campus who absolutely makes his blood boil. whether this person dislikes blue for his lack of wealth and sophistication, his inherent need to never pick sides, or his immediate abandonment of respect for blackthorne once the truth came to light. or perhaps he made a joke in their early days that rubbed this person the wrong way, and a toxic environment has persisted since then. i imagine this relationship has escalated to violence, and for whoever picks this up i’d really love to delve into their hatred and flesh out their angst !

there are plenty more connects on the page and like i said, i am literally happy to plot anything under the sun. (~:

thank you so much for reading ! if you made it all the way here ?? you’re a h*cking legend lmfao. if there’s anything here that stood out to you please hit me up either on tumblr dms or via discord ( my user is lilac 🍕#1835, or kjgdgdf the person with the crying squidward icon in the gc lmfao ). as there are quite a lot of members here, please like this here intro if you are interesting in plotting/writing with me so i know !! i’ll check out your beautiful intro and Throw (or rather, gently pass you) some ideas your way if you haven’t messaged me first. <3 but thank you so much again for making it to this point, here’s a proverbial cookie for your troubles. it’s double choc chip, enjoy it. (~:

#gallagher:intro #this was... so long aND IM SO SORRY #thank y'all for all being literal angels and making me feel so welcome (':#( ooc ; i have the power of god & anime on my side ! )

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tyblackthorn · 6 years

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qoaad snippets shared so far

warning: long post from oldest to newest

Mark knocked, and a harried-looking Simon Lewis opened the door.

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“I can’t do this.” Helen tried to keep her voice steady, but it was nearly impossible. She hoped the strain would be covered by the sound of the waves crashing below them, but Aline knew her too well. She could sense when Helen was upset, even when she was trying hard not to show it. “Baby.” Aline moved closer, wrapping her arms around Helen, brushing her lips softly with her own. “You can. You can do anything.” Helen relaxed into her wife’s arms. When she’d first met Aline she’d thought the other girl was taller than she was, but she’d realized later it was the way Aline held herself, arrow-straight. The Consul, her mother, held herself the same way, and with the same pride — not that either of them was arrogant, but the word seemed a shade closer to what Helen imagined than simple confidence. She remembered the first love note Aline had ever written her. The curves of your lips rewrite history. The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. Later, she’d found out it was an Oscar Wilde quote, and had said to Aline, smiling, You’ve got a lot of nerve. Aline had looked back at her steadily. “I know. I do.” They both had, always, and it had stood them in good stead. But this — “This is different,” Helen said. “They don’t want me here –“ “They do want you here.” “They barely know me,” Helen said. “That’s worse.”

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Fear prickled up and down Emma’s arms like goosebumps. Since she was twelve, she had been terrified of the ocean: she had always believed her parents had died in it, dragged below the surface by Raziel knew what, choked to death on bitter seawater. The surge and crash of waves, the imagined black velvet of the ocean’s depths, had filled her nightmares. Even when she found out her parents had been murdered on dry land by Malcolm Fade, their bodies thrown into the sea after death, the fear remained. She reached for it now, welcomed it in. She could feel it filling the empty spaces, the hollows left by grief. She glanced back down at the sea. The surging whirlpool below, the waves slamming like dark blue walls against sheer needles of stone, looked like a painting of a maelstrom, a photograph of a hellscape taken from a safe distance. The wind screamed in Emma’s ears like a warning. Another wave hurled itself against the cliffs, sending up an explosion of spray. Emma smiled grimly into the wind and salt, and jumped.

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Kit glanced around, wondering if the growing number of people was bothering Ty. He hated crowds. Magnus and Alec were standing with their kids near the Consul; they were with a beautiful black-haired girl with eyebrows just like Alec’s and a boy — well, he was probably in his twenties — with untidy brown hair. The boy gave Kit a considering look that seemed to say you look familiar. Several people had done the same. Kit guessed it was because he looked like Jace, if Jace had suffered a sudden and unexpected height, muscle and overall hotness reduction.

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Isabelle shook her head, then bent down and unclipped a chain from one ankle. She held it out to Emma. “This is blessed iron. Poisonous to faeries. Wear it and you can pack a hell of a kick.” “Thanks.” Emma took the chain and wrapped it twice around her wrist, fastening it tightly. “Do I have anything iron?” Simon looked around wildly, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal figure of an archer. “This is my D&D character, Lord Montgomery —” “Oh my God,” said Isabelle.

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Emma had been halfway up the stairs on the way to Cristina’s room when she had seen Mark, leaning against the wall on the landing and looking dejected. “Dru won’t let me in to talk to her,” he said. “I am worried. It is like a faerie to grieve alone, but not, I understand, like a Shadowhunter.” Emma hesitated. She was about to say that it wasn’t unlike Dru to lock herself in her room alone, but Dru had looked more than a little upset when she’d left the kitchen. “Keep trying,” she advised. “Sometimes you have to knock for twenty minutes or so. Or you could offer to watch a horror movie with her.” Mark looked glum. “I do not think I would enjoy a horror movie.” “You never know,” Emma said. He turned to head back up the stairs, and hesitated. “I am worried about you and Jules as well,” he said, more quietly. “I do not like the Inquisitor, or the idea of you being questioned by him. He reminds me of the King of Unseelie.” Emma was startled. “He does?” “They give me the same feeling,” Mark said. “I cannot explain it, but —“ A door opened on the landing overhead: it was Cristina’s. She stepped out, glancing down. “Emma? I wondered if you were —“ She stopped when she saw Mark, and she and Mark stared at each other in a way that made Emma feel as if she had disappeared completely. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Cristina said, but she was still looking at Mark, and he was looking back as if their gazes were hopelessly tied together. Mark had shaken himself, as if he were casting off cobwebs or dreams. “It is all right — I must go speak with Drusilla.” He had bounded up the stairs and out of sight, disappearing around the bend in the corridor. Cristina had snapped out of it and invited Emma in, and now it was as if the moment with Mark had never happened, though Emma was itching to ask about it. “Mark will need you,” she said again, and Cristina twisted her hands in her lap. “Mark,” she said, and paused. “I don’t know what Mark is thinking. If he is angry at me.” “Why would he be angry at you?” “Because of Kieran,” she said. “They did not end things well, and now Kieran is at the Scholomance, and far away, which was my doing.” “You didn’t break him up with Kieran,” Emma protested. “If anything, you helped keep them together longer. Remember — hot faerie threesome.” Cristina dropped her face into her hands. “Mrfuffhfhsh,” she said. “What?” “I said,” Cristina repeated, lifting her face, “that Kieran sent me a note.” “He did? How? When?” “This morning. In an acorn.” Cristina passed a small piece of paper to Emma. “It isn’t very illuminating.”

Lady of Roses,

Though the Scholomance is cold, and Diego is boring, I am still grateful that you found enough value in my life to save it. You are as kind as you are beautiful. My thoughts are with you.

Kieran

“Why did he send you this?” Emma handed the note back to Cristina, shaking her head. “It’s weird. He’s so weird!” “I think he just wanted to thank me for the escape plan,” Cristina protested. “That’s all.” “Faeries don’t like thanking people,” said Emma. “This is a romantic note.” Cristina blushed. “It’s just the way faeries talk. It doesn’t mean anything.” “When it comes to faeries,” Emma said darkly, “everything means something.

------------------

Faerie magic was quiet, Kit thought. There was no noise, no tumult, no flashing warlock lights. In between one breath and another, Mark, Kieran and Cristina simply disappeared.

------------------

“You hated the Shadow Market in London,” Kit said. “It really bothered you. The noises, and the crowd —“ Ty’s gaze flicked down to Kit. “I’ll wear my headphones. I’ll be all right.” “…and I don’t know if we should go again so soon,” Kit added. “What if Helen and Aline get suspicious?” Ty’s gaze darkened. “Julian told me once,” he said, “that when people keep coming up with reasons not do something, it’s because they don’t want to do it. Do you not want to do this?” Ty’s voice sounded tight. The thrumming wire again, sharp with tension. Under the cotton of his shirt, his too-thin shoulders had tightened as well. The neck of his shirt was loose, the delicate line of his collarbones just visible. Kit felt a rush of tenderness toward Ty, mixed with near-panic. In other circumstances, he thought, he would just have lied. But he couldn’t lie to Ty.

------------------

A ghost, Kit thought. Like Jessamine. He looked around wildly: surely there would be more ghosts here, their dead feet leaving no traces on the grass? But he only saw the Blackthorns, clinging together, Emma and Cristina side by side, and Julian with Tavvy in his arms, as the smoke rose up and around them. Half-reluctantly he glanced back: the young man with the dark hair had moved to kneel beside Robert Lightwood’s pyre. He was closer to the flames than any human could have gotten, and they seemed to eddy within the outline of his body, lighting his eyes with fiery tears. Parabatai, Kit thought, suddenly. In the slump of the young man’s shoulders, in his outstretched hands, in the longing stamped on his face, he saw Emma and Julian, he saw Alec as he spoke about Jace; he knew he was looking at the ghost of Robert Lightwood’s parabatai. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did.

------------------

“You have changed, son of thorns,” said the Queen.

------------------

“Please. I’ve taught at Shadowhunter Academy. I —” Catarina began to cough, her shoulders shaking. Her eyes widened in alarm. Cristina slid out of bed, alarmed. “Are you all right —?” But Catarina had vanished. There wasn’t even a swirl of air to show where her Projection had been. Cristina hastily threw on her clothes: jeans, an old t-shirt. She wished with all her heart that Emma was here, that they could talk about last night, that Emma could give her advice and a shoulder to cry on. But she wasn’t. Cristina touched her necklace, whispered a quick prayer to the Angel, and headed down the hall to Mark’s room. He’d been up as late as she was, so there was a high possibility he was still sleeping. She knocked on the door hesitantly and then harder; finally Mark threw it open, yawning and stark naked. “Híjole!” Cristina shrieked, and pulled her t-shirt collar up over her face.”Put your pants on!” “Sorry,” he he called, ducking behind the door. “At least you’ve already seen it all.”

------------------

The pyres were still burning as the procession turned and headed back toward the city. It was customary for the smoke to rise all night, and for families to gather in Angel Square to mourn among others. Not that Emma thought it was likely the Blackthorns would do that. They would remain in their house, closeted in with each other: they had been too much apart all their lives to want comfort from other Shadowhunters who they barely knew. She had trailed away from the rest of the group, too raw to want to try to talk to Julian again in front of his family. Besides, he was holding Tavvy, who was cried out and almost asleep. “Emma,” said a voice beside her. She turned and saw Jem Carstairs.

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“They fear your influence,” said Gwyn. “They know others listen to you. You are very persuasive, Diana, and startlingly wise.” She made a face at him. “Flatterer.” “I am not flattering you.” He stood up. “I am afraid for you. Horace Dearborn may not be a dictator yet, but he yearns to be one. His first move will to be to eliminate all who stand against him. He will move to extinguish the brightest lights first, those who illuminate the pathway for others.” Diana shivered. “You are cynical, Gwyn.” “It is possible I do not always see the best in people,” he said, “as I hunt down the souls of slain warriors on the battlefield.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you making a joke?” “Maybe.” He looked puzzled. “I think I might have. Was it funny?”

------------------

Tavvy was running over to see what was happening, and Jaime was asking if Dru still had the knife he’d given her, and she couldn’t help smiling, her first real smile since Livvy. Jaime came back, Dru thought. Finally, someone didn’t leave — they came back instead.

------------------

That’s why I did all this,” Ty said. “I want you with me in any way you can be.”

------------------

Something struck Cristina’s back; she screamed as her feet left the ground. A harpy had sunk its claws into the back of her gear jacket and was lifting her into the air. She thought of stories about how eagles flew high into the sky with their prey and then released them, letting their bodies smash open on the earth below. The ground was already receding below her with terrifying speed. With a scream of fear and anger, she slashed up and backward with her sword, slicing the harpy’s claws off at the joint. The demon shrieked and Cristina tumbled through the air, her sword falling out of her hand, reaching out as if she could catch on to something to slow her fall — she saw Mark’s pale, terrified face turned up toward her harpies surrounding him in a dark cloud — Something reached out to seize her out of the sky. She gasped as a hand caught her elbow, and she was yanked sideways to land awkwardly atop something warm and alive. A flying horse.

------------------

In the reflection of the window glass, Kit saw the bedroom door open and Ty come in. He was still wearing his mourning clothes, though he’d taken off the jacket and was just in a black long-sleeve T-shirt. And Kit knew it was too late to run, that he cared about these people now, and specifically Ty. “I’m glad you’re here.” Ty sat down on the bed and started unlacing his shoes. “I wanted to talk to you.” The door was still slightly open and Kit could hear voices coming from the kitchen downstairs. Helen’s, Dru’s, Emma’s, Julian’s. Diana had gone back to her own house. Apparently she lived in a weapons store or something like that. She’d gone back to get some kind of tool she thought could fish the splinters out of Julian’s bleeding hands. Ty’s hands were fine, but he’d been wearing gloves. Kit had seen Julian’s when he’d gone to rinse them out at the sink, and they’d looked like shrapnel had blown into his palms. Emma had stood nearby looking worried, but Julian had said he didn’t want an iratze, that it would just heal the skin closed over the bits of wood. His voice had sounded so flat, Kit had barely recognized it. “I know how this is going to sound,” Kit said, turning so his back was against the cold glass. Ty was hunched over, and Kit caught the gleam of gold at his neck. “But you’re not acting the way I expected.” Ty kicked his boots off. “Because I climbed up the pyre?” “No, that was kind of actually the most expected thing you did,” said Kit. “I just…” “I did it to get this,” Ty said, and put his hand to his throat. Kit recognized the gold chain and the slim disk of metal attached to it: Livvy’s locket, the one he’d helped her put on before the Council meeting. He vividly remembered her holding her hair aside as he fastened the clasp, and the smell of her perfume. His stomach lurched. “Livvy’s necklace,” he said. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. I just thought you would…” “Cry?” Ty didn’t look angry, but the intensity in his gray eyes had deepened. He was still holding the pendant. “Everybody is supposed to cry. But that’s because they accept that Livvy is dead. But I don’t. I don’t accept it.” “What?” “I’m going to get her back,” said Ty.

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“Julian, remember what Dane said, that you were the kind of guy who would have a girl for a parabatai?” She knelt up on the bed, raising her chin to look him directly in the eye. “That’s what I always loved about you, even before I was in love with you. You never thought for a second about it diminishing you to have a girl as your warrior partner, you never acted as if I was anything less than your complete equal. You never for a moment made me feel like I had to be weak for you to be strong.”

#emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #blackstairs #cristina rosales #mark blackthorn #kieran #kierarktina #kierark #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #haline #diana wrayburn #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #*

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burningfishpizzaroad-blog · 5 years

Text

Chapter one: Fratricide

(this is the first chapter of a Harry Potter Fanfiction)

The minister of magic sat at a desk on the opposite side of the room from Demelza, staring off into the distance.

"The trial of Mrs. Demelza Murray is about to begin, so I must ask that you all take your seat,” the patter of feet echoed through the clean black and white chamber. No other sounds could be heard and all colours seemed muted except for a dot of pink in the middle of a sea of black robes and tired faces.

"Are you ready to begin Mrs. Murray?"

"Yes, I think I am Minister Fudge," he removed his green bowler hat and placed it on the desk in front of him. "Does the court have your permission to use veritaserum truth serum?"

She said nothing, but instead nodded and looked around the room for the potion. She held her mouth open and waited as the three drops were placed on her tongue.

"A test, just to see if it has worked," he took the hat off his desk and held it out at arm's length.

"What do you think of my hat?" he began putting it back on his head but was only halfway through when he stated loud and clear.

"It's ugly and it makes your head look far too big," she knew what she had said and had no regrets in regards to how it made him feel.

Though it was clear he didn't take it well as he could be seen removing it slowly hoping no one noticed it, everyone did. He cleared his throat, though the actual reason he did it was unclear. He played it off as he got everyone's attention.

"Now the big question: did you or did you not kill your sister?" the eyes surrounding her felt like tiny daggers cutting into her. She felt a lump developing in her throat, but she eventually replied "yes", then utter silence and a struggle to fight back tears.

"Why did you kill her?"

She could only say, "I didn't mean to?"

"For the sake of the court could you tell us how she died?"

"We went to a cave," she told them.

This cave was in the middle of nowhere when the two sisters entered it. Only they and one other knew of its existence, but they both entered - one more confident that the other.

"Hurry up, Grace. You're such a Hufflepuff."

"What's wrong with being a Hufflepuff?" her black and yellow scarf was illuminated by the light at the end of both their wands.

"I'm kidding. There's nothing wrong with it."

The cave went deeper but as they moved forward the light at the end, cast by Lumos, began to turn red then finally vanish. The two sisters were overwhelmed by an endless sense of cold.

"We should turn back," Grace said, too timid to command even a dog.

"No the heart is here. We just have to find it then everything will be fine."

Parts of the cave wall crumbled away rolling to the floor around them.

"This way." she said, pointing to a hole the shifting rocks made about half their size.

"It is at times like this I regret never becoming an animagus," she said, trying to distract from the pain and the wet feeling on both their hands and knees.

"What do you think your form would be?"

They thought about it as they passed through the cave, but both eventually answered what the other experienced with their Patronus. As they crawled through the cave, for what felt like days but was actually about three hours, they found themselves in a large chamber of dark stone decorated from floor to ceiling with cross patterns all leading to an altar that appeared empty.

"It has to be there," she pointed to the altar and looked around the room.

From the corner of Demelza's eye, she could see a light in a small pit in the ground.

"Grace, could you check that out?" More of a demand than a request, really. The top of the altar had a line running down that middle that looked like it would open as it did but slowly. When the alter did open, there was nothing but a note resting at the bottom which said: "You come seeking power but you leave empty handed - G. M."

Demelza ran towards the pit her sister was in, "We have to go. I have a bad feeling about this."

"I can't," Grace told her sister.

Grace tried pulling her hands away from the orb but they were being held there by some sort of electricity. Demelza dropped down into the pit and tried to separate them but to no avail, the cave began to collapse. Rocks fell from the ceiling, narrowly missing the pair.

"You have to go," Grace told her sister.

"I won't leave you here."

"If you do go, we will both die and all of this would have been for nothing,” silently the pair looked into each other's eyes. "Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything," Demelza responded.

"Find the heart. Because if you don't I would have died for nothing."

"A fascinating story but I fail to see how it was you who killed your sister," Fudge said.

"If it wasn't for my obsession with the heart no one would have died," the court, at that moment, filled with a barrage of unrecognisable noise from the people on the stands.

"Quiet!” the minister yelled slamming the gavel on his desk, " I cannot sentence you for the death of your sister because you did nothing to directly to harm her. However, you won't be leaving for your continued attempts to harness the power of the dark arts. All in favour of punishment?" everyone around the courtroom put their hand up.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I need to find the heart. If I don't, her death would have been for nothing," she pleaded.

"You should have thought of that before you started meddling with the dark arts. It never ends well," he turned to one of the guards at the back of the room.

"Take her away," his wand followed her out the door and into an almost deserted corridor.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," she told the guard.

Before he could react, she reached behind her and grabbed his wand, not with the intention of harming him, but disarming and snapping his wand in half and running. The wand cracked, louder then she had expected, and she punched him in the face followed by her grabbing her hand yelling, "Muggle films make it look so easy," before sprinting down the hall to a large main hub with over a hundred different fireplaces with a bowl of ash next to each of them. She grabbed a handful of flue powder and stood in the fire threw it to the ground, green flames erupted around her.

"Diagon Alley!" she yelled before the world around her gave way to darkness and she woke up in the Leaky Cauldron.

She left the Leaky Cauldron before anyone could see her face, ducking in and out of a large crowd of people until not even she knew which shop she was about to enter until she was face to face with Ollivander and a boy around the age of eleven who stood in the corner trying to cover his blue eyes with his black hair. He had just been given his first Wand and was playing with it until she had entered.

"Mrs. Murray? I didn't expect to see you here," Olivander exclaimed as he looked up from the counter. She began looking behind him at all the wands stacked on the many shelves.

"Maybe you should practice your divination," she began brushing the Ash from her black dress and out of her hair at the same time she gave some explanation as to what happened to her wand by saying,

"I need a new wand. I lost mine in a duel."

"that wasn't very smart. Did they disarm you?" he asked as he walked to the back of his shop and took one from the shelf.

"I would prefer not to talk about it."

His grip on the Wand seems loose, at though he was going to drob it , but he didn't.

He placed it on the counter and said, "Try this one. It should work,” on the case that he placed next to it was a label that said "blackthorn wood dragon heartstring core 9 inches" before she even cast her first spell with her new with, she felt a connection.

"How odd, how very odd indeed," he said stroking his chin, a smile on his face.

"What's odd?" she asked looking at the wand top to bottom.

"When you first got your wand, when you were eleven, the wood was Ash Wood" he explained, taking the wand from her and balancing it on his index finger. “But now it's Blackthorn. It appears something within you has changed and by the looks of it very recently."

He gave her the Wand back and told her the cost, seven galleons, which she paid with the cash she had planned to buy drinks with. The boy was about to leave the shop, having got what he came in for but as he touched the handle he stopped.

"Do you know where the book shop is?" he asked both the adults in the room.

To which Ollivander responded by asking, "Aren't you here with your parents? Surely they know where it is?"

“My dad is a muggle and my mom is busy at work trying to avoid being fired," the boy responded.

"You must be Andrew. Shame about what happened to your mother," he told the boy who was apparently called Andrew. Ollivander looked away from Andrew and towards Demelza. "Would you be willing to take him there? It's a big day for wand selling and I don't know what will happen if I leave."

"Sure," she said. "I'm going there myself anyway. I need to buy a book about magical history."

They both left the shop together, Andrew following a few steps behind both hands deep in his pockets - as if looking for something that wasn't there.

“Nervous? I was, too, "she said, trying to sound like as much of an authority figure as possible. "But you'll get used to it. By the time your third-year rolls ‘round, it will be easy sailing from then on. But no matter what happens you'll probably do better than your mom."

The pair stopped outside of Flourish and Blotts, a shop, that from the outside, looked as though it was leaning at a slight angle.

“You knew my mom?" he asked, waiting outside of the shop for an answer.

"Yes I did," Demelza responded. "She was friends with my sister, Grace. Both of them were in Hufflepuff.”

The shop was similar to Ollivander's in design. A desk at the front with rows and rows of shelves behind them. However, Ollivander’s had wands and Borgin and Burks had books. Books about every topic in the wizarding world, from animagus to zoology.

Andrew looked at the letter and saw that the list told him all the books he would need. Demelza went straight to the back to find the initials G.M in any books related to the dark arts or the defence. Thereof, she found five names: Gregory Marling, Grant march, Gwen Mich, Georgia Mort, and George Moore all five names came from the same books 'Unattainable Goal' by author Greg Miller.

She looked at the counter and saw that Andrew had already found all nine books he would need and was paying for them, though he struggled to carry them. She walked over, grabbed them herself, and looked placed them in the bag.

"Thank you," he told her, taking the bag off her and pulling it along the floor as if it was on wheels. She paid for the book and walked out of the shop, carrying it under her arm.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Andrew asked standing next to the door holding his copy of ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’.

"Unfortunately I didn't. I fear that the only place that has the answers I need is the restricted section of the Hogwarts library.” she sighs, defeated.

"What were you trying to find?" Andrew asked.

"My sister and I were exploring a cave last week when we found this note,"

she showed him the note which she found in the cave and had kept safe in her sleeve.

"Do you know who this "G.M." is?" he asked handing the note back to her.

"No," she responded. "That's why I got this book."

"Maybe I could help," he told her. "I’ve been told I'm very good at solving puzzles."

She paused, as if weighing her options.

"If you want, but I will not be responsible if anything goes wrong. Agreed?" she held her hand out and Andrew shook it excitedly as he responded:

"Will we be communicating using owls?"

"Yes,” she responded stepping back. "Tell your mom Grace misses her."

"I will, bye," he said as she ran towards the wall that separated the alley from the Leaky Cauldron.

#Harry Potter fanfiction #Fanfiction #my ocs #new story #hogwarts #wizarding world

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theheartsmistakes · 3 years

Text

The Last Night Part XXV

(A/N at the end, please read for an announcement, thank you)

Parts I-XXIV:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

Part XXII

Part XXIII

Part XXIV

.XXV.

“Is he alive?” Lucie demanded before her mind could return to her after jumping from one realm to the other with Belial’s hand tight around her own. His grip burned into her skin like scolding water; she was sure when he released her there would be a mark, but to surprise there wasn’t.

Once in the shadowrealm, Belial released her and straightened his jacket, brushing invisible dust off the front. “He’s alive.”

“How do I know you’re not lying,” demanded Lucie, “that you didn’t just leave him there in a puddle of his own blood after you got what you were after?”

“You don’t,” sneered Belial. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

Lucie unleashed a bitter laugh. “Never. I’d sooner trust a stranger off the streets than trust you. You’re a monster.”

The insult didn’t seem to phase Belial. “Don’t you forget, darling granddaughter, that we are kin.”

“No we are not,” said Lucie. “A Shadowhunter’s blood is too strong to be tainted by the filth of yours.”

The slight twitch at the corner of Belial’s mouth told Lucie that had struck him. Perhaps weakly, but it struck him all the same.

“Come along.” He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, and with a nod of his head, motioned for her to follow him.

A violent, hot wind pushed against Lucie’s back as if urging her after him, but she held her ground. She hadn’t realized since arriving in this other realm, where exactly she was, until she looked around for any hope of an escape. It didn’t look promising. There was a steal black, rot iron fence that went on farther than Lucie could see and was far too tall for her to climb. It was twined with thick spikes that held empaled, dangling inhuman figures. Some fluttered in the wind like kite tails and others still moaned. The fence stood in front of a massive, black stone manor that looked like the lair of every evil villain that haunted her nightmares. The peaks of the roof pointed in the air like a dragon’s scales, dead ivy clung to the bricks and dripped a reddish liquid that smelt sickly sweet. Around her, Lucie could hear the moans of lost souls on the wind and felt a shudder run through her body.

Looking up at it, all of her defiance and bravery evaporated and she quietly wished for her parents, a thing she hadn’t done since she was a little girl. She quietly wished that she weren’t alone. She’d even take one of her ghosts.

Belial walked up the front steps to the grand arched doorway. They opened for him at the command of his mere presence, groaning with ancient age and ruin, and Belial entered without waiting for Lucie.

Her whole body trembled as she contemplated turning and running, when she felt something cool in all of the heat, brush against her left hand.

She looked down and found a nearly translucent hand gripping hers. When she looked up again, she met the pale eyes of a young woman’s face. The face was familiar, but Lucie couldn’t quiet place it, like a word dangling on the tip of her tongue. The ghost flickered in the wind and offered Lucie a shy smile. “You are not alone, Lucie Herondale. We are here to help you.”

“Help me what?”

The ghost turned forward again and disappeared in the wind as it rushed over Lucie as if conscious of the threat against this realm’s master. Lucie released a sigh as her name was called from inside the manor.

When she didn’t immediately move, two black armored sentries that she’d thought were statues moved towards her.

“Fine,” she kicked a cloud of dust at one and skirted past the other as she walked towards the door.

The walls of the manor stood at least twenty feet tall and were the color of rich, fresh, never burnt coal that still had the diamond sheen to it. They rose and rose and rose into peaks that disappeared into complete darkness. The floor beneath her feet turned from darkened wood to a circular formation made of marble with a star upside down in the center. Realizing that she was standing in the center of it, Lucie took several hasty steps off until she nearly pressed herself against a wall.

There was no warmth here. No light, no softness, no peace, like a place only murders, tyrants, and beast were buried. Lucie wanted to flea more than she’s ever wanted to run before, but she squared her shaking shoulders and fixed her eyes on Belial standing on the first landing of the staircase. A chandelier of onyx crystals hovered above him, tinkling whenever the house would shutter with the wind.

“Follow me,” said Belial. “I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

“Staying?” Lucie’s voice echoed in the massive room, clanging off the walls like a trill bell. “What do you mean staying?”

Belial rubbed at the space between his eyes and exhaled. “Where you will remain until I say otherwise.”

“And here I was under the impression that world damnation was a rather pressing agenda,” balked Lucie. “If I’d known you needed a bit of nap first, I wouldn’t have put up such a fight.”

The house rumbled as Belial spun on Lucie. “I’m growing tired of your petulant little mouth. You can follow me to a room or you can stand there until I come for you. The choice is yours.”

“Now I get a choice?” Lucie hissed. “How kind of you.”

“You’ve always had a choice, Lucie. You could have chosen not to come with me and let your friend die.”

She bristled and crossed her arms across her chest. “A choice isn’t a choice when it’s forced upon you.”

“Well it’s yours now,” said Belial. “Choose wisely. All manner of questionable creatures lurk through these halls searching for lost souls to torment or devour.”

Is that what she was now, she wondered. Nothing more than a lost soul. She trembled to think of it.

As if on cue, a malicious laugh came from down the hallway and the sound crawled up her spine until the fine hairs rose on her neck. Belial was nearly to the top of the stairs; she was sure he wouldn’t descend after her if some unmentionable creature favored the taste of living flesh. If that was still indeed what she was.

Lucie hurried to the steps but slowed as to not show her fear.

Belial waited with his back to her staring at a grand portrait, bigger than any the queen had in the palace, of a scene that look quite biblical. If the Bible was written by a demon. Humans were at war with inhuman creatures: demons and monsters alike. The demons had massacred a fields worth of humans, the ground covered in blackness richer than the starless sky. The sky was painted purple, with thick clouds rolling towards the battle. Two peaks stood in the distance. On one stood a figure, the silhouette of a taloned beast raising his hands to the sky. Standing on the other mountain, a twin to the first, was a glowing figure the only bit of light in the darkness raising a sword over its head as if to throw it at the beast.

“The battle of good versus evil,” said Belial. “I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“Yes,” said Lucie and swallowed. “However the version I’ve heard goes quiet a bit differently and it does not favor your side.”

“My side?” Belial’s dark eyebrow arched. “And which side do you suppose that is?”

“Well, the evil side,” said Lucie. “Death, destruction, pain, darkness—“

“And the good side doesn’t have any of those things?” asked Belial. “Death, destruction, pain, darkness— none? It’s wholly and completely good?”

“Yes,” said Lucie simply.

“Really?” Belial’s mouth twitched. “What about the death of your friends? What of young Jesse Blackthorns untimely death? Or illnesses? What about the destruction good endures to ensure good wins? What about the pain caused before good is achieved or the good pain causes when something ceases to be good? What then?”

“Those things are just evil seeping into the good,” said Lucie.

“And good cannot seep into what is evil?”

“Sure if can,” said Lucie. “At least, that’s we all hope for.”

“So it’s not so black and white is it,” said Belial. “It’s all a bit grey?”

“No,” said Lucie quietly. “It’s a balance.”

Belial look at her then, but she didn’t return the attention. She started at the two sides of the picture. Darkness devouring the light. She always thought that good was suppose to prevail. That light would chase away the darkness, but perhaps they both needed one another. Too much good can be a bad thing just as much as too much bad.

Belial nodded. “We’re going to restore that balance.”

Lucie huffed a laugh. “Is the delusion you’re running on? No, you are not.”

“Good cannot always win,” said Belial. “That’s not balance. You’ll see.”

And I’m the petulant one, thought Lucie, but thought better of saying as much. She followed Belial down the lightly lit hall where shadows flickered in the sconced candle light. He stopped at the third door down on the left and opened it.

“You’re to stay here until I come for you,” said Belial. “The door is locked from the outside, so make yourself comfortable.”

Lucie stepped inside the dank room that smelled terribly of sulfur. A large bed stood pushed up against the wall with a four poster canopy hanging over it. The only other piece of furniture was a desk across from the bed where a candelabra flickered.

“Enjoy your nap,” said Lucie as Belial slammed the door behind himself.

After several moments, Lucie turned around away from the door to face the window when she came nose to nose with the ghost from earlier.

“By the angel!” She nearly scream. “What— How are you here?” She whispered in case he wasn’t far enough away to hear her.

“You summoned me,” said the ghost and walked over to the desk to examine the skull of what might have been a large rodent.

“No, I didn’t,” said Lucie rather defensively. The ghost continued examining the room. “If I don’t know why you’re here then how can I be expected to trust you?”

The ghost straightened again, her white hair billowed out around her shoulders in an invisible wind. “Why I am here is up to you, Lucie. You summoned me.”

“I didn’t,” hissed Lucie, wanting to yell but knowing that she couldn’t. She backed up and plopped herself down on the end of the bed. “If I did, I didn’t mean to.”

“Why not?” asked the ghost as she came to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. Sit being the wrong word, she hovered over the mattress. “You’ve been our closest ally to the living world since you were a child. I used to sing to you when you were falling asleep. Do you remember?” She started humming a familiar song, one Lucie would often catch herself humming without knowing the words or where she’d learned it.

“That was you?”

The ghost nodded. “As you got older, your ability to send us away or call for us became stronger. We could no longer come and go as we pleased as you learned to keep us away. Soon, we could only visit you in your sleep.”

Lucie’s chest ached. “Is that what I am right now? Asleep?”

“No,” said the ghost. “No, you are very awake and still very much alive. And there’s work to be done, Lucie.”

“Work?” Lucie bristled. “Are you working for Belial? Are you here to make sure that I cooperate?”

The ghost chuckled. “No, I am here because you summoned me.”

“You keep saying that,” said Lucie. “But I have no idea who you are.”

“Of course you do,” said the ghost. “You just don’t remember.”

“Why would I summon you and not someone that I remember,” she challenged. “If you’re not working for Belial then prove it.”

“I will,” said the ghost. “When you defeat him. You will understand.”

“Defeat him? I don’t know how to defeat him,” whispered Lucie, her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m not the right person for this. I’m not as cunning as my brother, strong as my father, or brave as Cordelia. No, my strength lies in other things. They could find a way, I just know they could. My greatest weapon has always been my pen— my mind. I won’t be able to do this alone.”

“Then perhaps you don’t have to do this alone,” said the ghost.

“What do you mean?” asked Lucie.

The ghost smirked. “Use your imagination, Lucie. What would one of your characters do if they were this situation with your abilities?”

Lucie thought for a moment if it were the beautiful Cordelia held prisoner. She’d probably manage to make a weapon with something around her or find a creative way to escape right underneath the villain’s nose. But she was not the beautiful Cordelia and this was not a story.

“Sometimes our greatest strengths won’t arise until the moments we need them most.”

As if a light had been flipped by a switch, Lucie suddenly understood what was being asked of her and she was overcome with dread.

“What will everyone think of me?” asked Lucie. “They’ll think me a demon— a monster.”

“Nonsense.” The ghost patted Lucie’s hand or tried to, her hand slid through Lucie’s like softened butter. “They’ll think you a hero.”

“How could you know that?”

“They’d be stupid not to,” said the ghost. “And there was once a time when I was a bit different. At first I was afraid of who I was. I hid from it and that nearly cost me my own life and the life of the people I loved most. It wasn’t until I embraced my otherness that I was able to find true happiness. And my fear of what those around me would think, well it seems I was wrong about them all along. They supported me. Sure, there were some that didn’t, but our paths rarely crossed and I didn’t bother with them. You have a family that adores you exactly as you are. Loyal friends that will welcome you and defend you. Pride is often the weakness of our greatest strengths. It’s time to stop living in fear of what other will think of you, Lucie, and embrace who you are; the abilities that only you have to offer.”

A tear dripped from Lucie’s chin. “I’m frightened.”

“Do it anyway,” said the ghost. “Remember you’re not alone. As a Shadowhunter, you’re never fighting alone. You have centuries of strength coursing through your veins . You need only call on it.”

“Who did you say you were again?”

“A very old friend.” The ghost stood and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To prepare,” said the ghost. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again very soon.”

The ghost floated through the door and disappeared. Her haunting words echoed in Lucie’s mind.

She let herself fall back on the bed and stared at the blood red canopy above her. Draw on her ability; stop being so prideful; trust herself; rely on her own strength. No one was coming to rescue her, but that didn’t mean she was alone. Lucie knew what she needed to do. She wasn’t sure that it was entirely possible, but it was the only option she had, and she had to try. For her family, friends, and the world she was born to protect, she had to try.

If Belial wanted an army, then an army he shall have.

(A/N: Happy New Year’s friends! I hope you kissed 2020 goodbye in a way that felt satisfying considering the monstrosity that was this crap bag of a year. While I like to rag on 2020 because of all it took from me and my family, there were some great things— like all of you for example. I am extremely grateful for your loyalty and passion for this project. Since it is coming to a close, I would like to ask something of all of you. I have been working on a project of my own this last year, and have been considering sharing it on Tumblr and Archive. It’s about a young nurse named Vienna, whose life is constantly at risk because of a secret born unto her— she’s part of a race of magic welders called the Magicki who are being hunted and destroyed by a paranoid tyrant king. Through her 20 years of life she’s managed to keep her secret well hidden from everyone, until one night she’s attacked by the king’s elite and brutal soldiers, and her own instincts rise to save her and also condemn her. The attack, along with rebellious acts against the king occurring in the city, starts a manhunt for those responsible. Vienna must learn to use her power or watch her people die. This story is told from the perspective of three different characters: Vienna the nurse, Kollins the daughter of a dangerous Lord, and Rhin a Captain in the king’s guard. While they may all come from different paths of life, their paths will inevitably cross, but can they set aside their prejudices enough to help one another or see an entire race be destroyed?

Sound any good? I’d love your opinions! I am thinking of posting the first couple of chapters for review. Please comment or message me if you are interested. As always stay safe, stay healthy, and stay kind. Next update is coming on January 10th.)

#the last night fanfiction #the last hours #chain of gold fanfic #the shadowhunter chronicles #jordelia fanfiction #james x cordelia #Cordelia Carstairs #lucie herondale #james herondale

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marcythewerewolf · 7 years

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Hi M! I was wondering if you've written anything Emma + Julian as of lately. I love all of your writings, even the headcanons (AND THOSE LONG ASS POSTS. I LIVE FOR THEM.) and I really wanted to read something about those two. Anything, really. Just mess me up and hit me with your worst (best)

You’ve just written me a blank check, friend. I’ll try to fill it as best I can. Warning for some prime, post-LOS Disaster Babies, and also some light making out and heavily charged touching. And when I say heavily charged I mean in the electrical hazard sort of way.

Emma’s touch burns his skin now, leaving faint red trails that fade after a few seconds. No matter how lightly she brushes his skin, it’s like touching the sun in miniature. No matter how hard he tries, Julian can’t bring himself to care.

She swirls spirals on his forearm under the table as the Council drones, and he tries not to flinch because Dru is leaning into his other side and keeps giving him odd looks when he does.

Jia Penhallow looks tall and gaunt as a statue, hair as dark as Annabel’s. Her face is locked in a permanent expression of deep discomfort, the best sign that things aren’t going well. Try as he might, Julian can’t quite listen to anything but Emma’s soft breathing beside him.

“-eeting adjourned,” Jia says finally. “We’ll call a vote on the proposed sanctions against Faerie tomorrow.”

No one has directly called out the Blackthorns yet. Julian can’t decide if it’s concerning or for the best. After the initial outcry over the Mortal Sword, most of the backlash had promptly been directed at the usual scapegoats. Good Shadowhunter children couldn’t be blamed if the wicked Downworlders took advantage of them, and no one could be bothered to do anything with the good Shadowhunter children because stopping disasters just isn’t the Clave’s way.

Even through two layers of leather, Emma’s hand is a hot iron on his upper arm as they walk out of the hall, ignoring the stares and whispers. Rumours, they can handle, what Julian cannot countenance the idea that they might be separated, in any way.

In his fugue, he thinks if he lost Emma’s warmth he might just collapse, stop working like Ty has.

Absolute zero is a state where nothing can move at all, the lowest temperature possible in the universe, and right now that feels like the default state of Julian’s heart.

They wait for Jia to come out so they can walk back with her to the Penhallows’ house. Diana, though much kinder and much more trustworthy, doesn’t have the space to let all of them stay with her.

The attic where they’d been shoved as children is even more cramped now, and so Jia and Patrick had politely extended a few more guest bedrooms. Julian had turned her down. He knows lots of people have to be looking for place to stay in Idris at the moment, and the instinct to Not Be A Burden is strong.

They’ve made do. Ty, Kit, and Tavvy are on the bed, Dru has allocated herself a chair, and Julian and Emma are camping on the floor with spare pillows and blankets. More often than not, Tavvy comes to join them. Ty needs his space now more than ever.

He’s up and eating when the get back, which is a good sign. Dru fills in Kit on the meeting, and Julian listens closely. Now that Emma isn’t touching him and he’s back with his family, he can almost start to think clearly again.

The facts as they stand aren’t good. Helen and Aline only haven’t been sent away because Jia had made the argument they were vital witnesses to what is now being called the Massacre in the Hall of the Accords.That gambit could backfire quickly, if the Dearborns have their way. Mark and Cristina have left to try to find Kieran, and hopefully protect Mark from repercussions. He is safe, and that is a comfort, but he’s also not here.

“What about Livvy’s body?” Ty asks, still looking at his bowl of soup. Julian’s not sure he’s made direct eye contact with anyone since his twin sister died. “Did they say anything about what they did with her?”

He shakes his head. “No, buddy, sorry. We’re working on it, but the Silent Brothers are being very close lipped, apparently.”

In truth, he’s not even sure they’ll be able to have a funeral. The Mortal Sword is sacred, it’s got to mess up the usual rites and rituals. He can’t tell Ty that though, not yet. The situation is fragile enough as it is.

Julian’s brother crumples softly in on himself, and the overall mood of the room takes a despondent turn. Emma leans across on the bed and lays a searing hand on the back of Julian’s neck, making him stiffen with pain. The shock is what he needs to pull together though. As every hair on his body tingles, he tries to look like he’s in control.

“It’s only been a day and a half. You know how the Clave moves, and Jia is intentionally trying to slow things down. It’ll get better, I promise.”

The words ring hollow, even to him, but Emma smiles and that makes it okay.

In the dark at night, it’s the worst. They’re so close, but so far away. The room is full of the susurration of a half a dozen children breathing, and doing all the things he wants to do is impossible.

What he can do is touch her. Tavvy’s on the bed tonight, they have the floor to themselves, and Julian traces flowers on her bare stomach in the dim moonlight. Her skin is covered in goosebumps, and every time he touches her again her breath hitches in her throat. He does spinning roses and symmetrical camellias and dandelions which are really just an excuse to stroke lines in every direction away from her belly button. She is so hot, like a bonfire in a blizzard, and he wants to throw himself inside her and burn to death. Instead he draws ivy up her collarbone until the pads of his fingers feel so unbearably warm he puts them in his mouth despite himself. (There they are cool to the the tongue.)

Emma grins, puts one branding iron hand on the small of his back and pulls him in closer to her.

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” she whispers, as softly as a butterfly landing. It’s clearly a struggle for her to be so quiet. Even the way she moves, unrestrained as a storm, makes him hesitate, but he still can’t stop himself from holding her.

“It’s magic,” Julian whispers, wrapping an arm around her so she shudders. “It can work however it wants.”

When she presses him down into her thin pillow on the worn wood floor, she feels heavier than she should, like a car crushing his chest. He can barely breath as she kisses his eyelids, and when he opens his eyes again the world is gold and red.

Once Julian catches his breath and lets the stars behind his eyes fade, he writes, RUNE? on her upper arm. She shakes her head and gives him a questioning look. Runes don’t work like that, they both know, but maybe whatever horrible power they have now does. They shouldn’t experiment. He desperately wants to.

It’s a dark sort of curiosity that drives him to pull her nearest hand to his lips. With some consideration, he kisses each knuckle and callous and watches as she shivers. Still, even that small reaction isn’t enough. He goes for the vein at her wrist and works his way up her arm, brushing away the tangle on blonde hair when he reaches her shoulder. Emma leans into him, her breath like steam on his neck.

Ty turns on the bedside lamp. “What are you doing?” he demands.

Next to him, Kit and Tavvy, both wearing pairs of Aline’s old pajamas, start to stir as well. A disgruntled noise from Dru is followed by some bleary stares and then her falling out of the chair.

“That’s illegal!” Ty and Dru say at almost the same, scandalized time. Julian doesn’t even have time to offer up a defense, although not many platonic explanations for their activities come to mind.

Kit frowns. “Wait, really?”

Dru is scared for all of them, Ty is offended on multiple accounts, Tavvy is elated, Kit is mostly confused.

They all promise not to tell, though Julian knows their faith in him has taken another hard hit. The family comes first, no matter what. He raised them well.

He and Emma retreat to the bathroom to come up with a plan of attack. A plan of recovery was equally acceptable.

“They’ll understand,” Emma assures him as they sit together on the tile. “It might take a while, but I know they will.”

“I-” Julian begins, and finds the lie chokes in his throat. “Maybe you’re right. We don’t have time though. What if the Cohort moves, what if charges start to be brought against us, what if they threaten Helen, or Mark?”

She squeezes his hand, bringing some warmth back in the frozen fear of his mind. “Then we’ll destroy them.”

When they return, Ty has also held his own meeting, and drafted a few ultimatums.

“We need to tell Helen and Aline,” he says. He’s still not looking at anyone straight on, but his voice is strong and steady.

“We can’t keep lying to each other,” Dru says, chin wobbling but eyes stubborn. “You can’t keep lying to us, Jules.”

“Please-”

Ty cuts him off before he can offer any soothing words. “We know you meant well, but we’re not kids anymore. We can handle this.”

They can. They are shaking and shaken, but unbroken yet. He’s so, so proud of them, and he loves them all so much. He can’t imagine ever hurting them, even for the endless enveloping fire Emma now embodies, and he desperately hopes it stays that way.

“And I want to find Livvy,” Ty says, in a voice that breaks before Kit wraps his arms tightly around him from the back. “I- we can’t leave without her.”

It’s settled just like that, quickly in the night by children not quite sure what they’re doing and certainly not old enough to be making the choices they are. Story of Julian’s life.

Breaking into the Silent City is easily said then done. Emma and Julian go alone. It’s better than endangering the children.

In dark corridors, tombs of fallen warriors, and hallowed libraries, they find nothing, not even the answers about their predicament Julian was half looking for. Deeper still, in the cells and vaults, there is still no sign of Livia. Her corpse, bloodless and tiny and horribly awkward in death, limp and hanging from the ornate hilt of the Mortal Sword like he remembers, is nowhere to be found. The shards of the Sword itself are all laid out on a bier, but the girl who died for them gets none of the same decency.

All the Brothers except a few are out, searching the world for answers to the crisis of the day. Emma choked out a few on the way in, but the City had been mostly unguarded.

Under the circumstances, Julian thinks lighting the whole place on fire is entirely reasonable.

Emma’s face shines as the stone melts and catches with the help of their burning, glowing, wicked rune. She’s flush and fierce and delighted as they drag the unconscious Brothers into a safe building and run, and Julian delights with her, feels hot and bright and alive. Love is a sort of mourning, just as vengeful arson is a sort of funeral pyre. He had given Uncle Arthur a church, Livvy deserves at least a small city.

The entrance to the Silent City soon swarms with more Brothers, with Shadowhunters rushing to help. By the time they meet back up with their party in the Penhallows’ back garden, the plume of smoke is visible to most of Idris.

Helen looks appalled, Aline looks impressed, Ty mostly just looks upset. “Where is she?” he asks.

“What did you do?” Helen asks, hands on her hips like an older sister in full.

“She wasn’t there,” Julian gasps, “So we, ah, made do. It’s not a proper Shadowhunter funeral, but it’s close enough, isn’t it?” Still high on skin contact with Emma and powerful magic, he feels like he could wrestle a bear. He wants to find a bed and kiss her senseless, and the bed is really optional.

Helen has the gall to disapprove, as if she was there for them at all, as if she has any room to judge them for being unacceptable by Shadowhunter norms. “Julian…” she sighs, looking worriedly at Taavy and Dru. They’re hiding behind her. It’s possible, Julian realizes, that he might look a little mad right now.

“We’re fine,” he insists, and when Helen moves to touch his cheek, he bats her away.

She shrieks, and yanks her hand back quickly. The garden of Blackthorns and Blackthorn-adjacents freezes. Aline is hovering over her in an instant, inspecting her blistered hand and murmuring questions.

Helen looks a little frightened, and that’s enough to frighten Julian. “I’m fine,” she says, “I just… it burned. Even the air around you is hot. Jules?”

He and Emma exchange a glance. “Nothing like that’s ever happened before,” Emma tells her quickly, “I mean, sometimes things kind of like that, but not really like that. No one’s ever gotten hurt.”

Before, remains unspoken.

The grass around Julian and Emma’s feet starts to wither and smoke. Above the little walled garden, the plume of smoke reaches higher and higher, up into the heavens, no longer a triumphal column and now just a marker of a disaster somewhere not too far away.

#julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #lord of shadows spoilers #the dark artifices #blackstairs #my terrible parabatai children #fanfic #m writes

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bookishreviewsblog · 5 years

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Cassandra Clare: Queen of Air and Darkness (The Dark Artifices #3) | Lara

Dark secrets and forbidden love threaten the very survival of the Shadowhunters in Cassandra Clare’s Queen of Air and Darkness, the final novel in the #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling The Dark Artifices trilogy. What if damnation is the price of true love? Innocent blood has been spilled on the steps of the Council Hall, the sacred stronghold of the Shadowhunters. In the wake of the tragic death of Livia Blackthorn, the Clave teeters on the brink of civil war. One fragment of the Blackthorn family flees to Los Angeles, seeking to discover the source of the blight that is destroying the race of warlocks. Meanwhile, Julian and Emma take desperate measures to put their forbidden love aside and undertake a perilous mission to Faerie to retrieve the Black Volume of the Dead. What they find in the Courts is a secret that may tear the Shadow World asunder and open a dark path into a future they could never have imagined. Caught in a race against time, Emma and Julian must save the world of Shadowhunters before the deadly power of the parabatai curse destroys them and everyone they love.

It came. Finally. After all that waiting and panicking I endured for this book, I can't believe I have finally read it. For me, this was the most anticipated book of this year and I am so glad my 2018 is going to end with reading this book. I've been following Cassandra Clare's work for years and I am huuge fan of her work. I was in love with Shadow World since I read the copy of City of Bones, I got for my twelfth birthday. Words can't describe how much I love her stories and characters she created. Reading this book made me extremely happy for so many reasons and I cannot be grateful enough that she keeps writing new stuff for me to fangirl over.

This book was enormously long, I think over 900 pages. I read the Kingdom of Ash in November and I am going to take a break with long-ass books and read some fluffy teen fiction for the rest of the year. But, despite its length, this book was really amazing, intriguing and entertaining from first to the last page. This book was never boring. No, for one moment I didn't think "God, I wish this scene would finally be over"; whether it was some action scene, battle, revelation, Clave meeting, romantic moment or even simple interaction between characters Cassie kept me chained to my kindle. It was nearly impossible to stop reading (seriously I read this in Tokyo metro, which is practically impossible).

There was a lot of action, parallel plots, problematics, storylines, and characters that filled this story. From the beginning of the Dark Artifices series, there was more than one villain: it is a long way back when we all thought Blackthorn's only problem was Malcolm raising his lost love. Now there is Unseelie King wanting to destroy all Shadowhunters sided with Annabel, who killed Livvy and Robert and cause a great havoc in Allicante. Then there is the inside, political threat of Cohort who want to bring back old ideals and hate for all who are not Shadowhunters. After (and during) Lord of Shadows so many new problematics made a way that I was seriously concerned how will it all turn out. But all I can say Cassie did a most wonderful job developing all those plots and problematics individually and in parallel and finally bringing it all together in one big finale.

I always loved how she represented political life of Shadowhunters and work of the Clave. Like, nothing is ideal and there are always new problems, new people with questionable agendas, but the point is to change for better, no matter how small the change is.

Cassandra Clare's writing style always was and will be one of my favorite things of all time. I adore her rich descriptions with a touch of purple prose, her love stories, and characters. Most of all dialogues and interactions make me burst out laughing whether I want it or not.

She has created an impressive spectrum of characters through all these books and all of them are equally special, unique and wonderful. One of the biggest perks of reading this book is POVs. There is just so many of them, but it doesn't seem too much at all. I wanted to read, with all my heart, I wanted to see this story from the perspective of each character, whether old or new. She combined all (surviving) characters in this one story that changes everything. Of course, TDA squad has the main word and it can be easily read without knowledge of other series, but for us hardcore fans it was soo inspiring.

*this part is going to be mostly about characters and spoilers will be clearly marked for those who haven't read to skip, but if you don't want my review to change your perspective of characters and their development through the book, I suggest you skip it*

I am going to do some analysis of characters because I really feel like it, so let's start with my otp Jemma: one of my favorite couples of all times. I love Jemma from the bottom of my heart and they are really so adorable. Cassie always does a great job with love stories, but this one is especially dear to me. Just how they are there for each other since they were children and how they complete each other uwu

“I still love Emma more than I ever thought was possible. I love her more every day, and more every time I try to stop. I love her like I’m being ripped in half. And I want to cut the throats of everyone in the Cohort.”

Emma is my favorite character from the Dark Artifices and one of my all-time favorites. I always, always come to adore badass fearless girls who fight for those they love. My favorite scenes were usually those that included Emma fighting (*plot spoiler* when she confronted Zara, god that was the best thing ever).

Another amazing and my favorite male character – Julian. I just want to give a huge shoutout to this perfect boy who raised five children, took care of his sick uncle and led the whole Institute by himself. He always tended to be anti-hero(ish), but that's what I loved so much about him, that he was willing to do anything to protect his family. He is considered ruthless and cold, while he is just protective of his siblings, who have suffered a lot. Many people were confident he was going to go all anti-hero, even villain, (and he almost did, khm we know why), but I kind of knew he wouldn't. *spoiler* It was believed he will try to break all parabatai bonds, that he was that selfish, but in the end, he knew that was wrong, and he stopped Emma because he knew she was going to regret doing that. (*end of the spoiler*)

After those two comes my new otp for TWP, Kit and Ty of course. I couldn't really see all the hype about Kitty before, but after QoAaD, I am probably the most hardcore Kitty shipper ever. I mean they are perfect, ADORABLE. ! Just the way they interact, work together and solve problems makes it clear they are made for each other. It was clear Ty was having an awful time coping with Livvy's death and Kit was always there for him. Not to mention Kit is one of the most hilarious characters ever (sometimes he beat Jace, Will even).

“Funerals are always so sad,” said a woman who had introduced herself as Irina Cartwright, staring at Julian with a deep pitying stare. When he didn’t respond, she shifted her gaze to Kit. “Don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Kit. “My father was eaten by demons.”

The boy gave Kit a considering look that seemed to say you look familiar. Several people had done the same. Kit guessed it was because he looked like Jace, if Jace had suffered a sudden and unexpected height, muscle, and overall hotness reduction.

I mean just reading his perspective made me laugh sometimes. *spoiler* Anyway, that moment at the lake when Ty did the spell and Kit said he loved him!!! I was so so so happy. So, of course, their separation at the end of the book almost killed me, because that means 3 years without any of them and they will barely be in contact since Ty will be at Scholomance and Kit is at Jem and Tessa's… TDA just ended and I am already desperate for TWP, it's going to be a long way.

I liked Cristina's and Mark's characters a lot, too. Cristina-Emma friendship is one of the most amazing things in these books, and if it weren't for the curse, they should have been parabatai. I rooted for Cristina and Mark to get together, but Cassie decided to go for polygamous relationship between Kieran, Mark and Cristina. As much as I love her representation and diversity (she is kind of a queen when it comes to that), I hated Kierarktina. For starters I never liked Kieran, sure he had his redemption and became quite more likable, but I always found him kind of bland and annoying. Then, I can literally see no chemistry between Cristina and Kieran. Kieran and Mark, sure, they had a lot going on in the past. Cristina and Mark had fireworks going between them, but Kieran and Cristina? Nope, I felt nothing. I really didn't like three of them together and, to be honest, I felt really uncomfortable reading Kierarktina scenes.

Those were characters I wanted to point out or say something about. I love rest of them as much, especially those who were important in other series. Their appearances, interactions and contribution to the plot warmed my heart (*spoiler* especially Livia's Army when all of them worked together).

*From this point there will be spoilers and they won't be marked because I am going to comment on ending and some parts of the plot*

I am going to refer to some parts of the book and problematics that were solved one way or another.

First: Thule. I didn't see this coming, so there was no particular theory of mine about this, but a trip to Thule took a good third of this book. I wasn't entirely satisfied with it and couldn't say I actually liked it. It brought an interesting perspective on what would have happened if Clary hadn't won The Battle of the Burren, but aside from that, it wasn't of much significance. Sure, they brought back the mortal sword, but they didn't figure out anything with the curse or how to defeat the Unseelie King. I don't like concepts of parallel universes and such, so that is the reason I feel kind of bitter about that part (if it is like that, there are infinite universes and versions of characters and all could go in any direction, so what is the point anyway…). So maybe I am wrong and it was really important (it will be important for TWP for sure), but I did not like that part.

Then comes the big problem that stretches through all three books –the parabatai curse. I was eager to know how are things going play out with the curse for Julian and Emma, Cassie created an amazing plotline and mystery about the origin of parabatai. My theory was that Cortana was going to break the curse somehow, but that wasn't the case. Not even close, actually. I liked how were the effects of the curse shown and how Emma and Julian suffered not only mental but also physical changes. Yet I didn't find myself entirely happy about how things turned out. I didn't expect Julian and Emma to turn into half-giant angels in the middle of the battle and then just ? stop being parabatai?. That part is still a little bit foggy, like all that with the True Nephilim and what that has to do with parabatai. It was cool and I can't say I hate how things turned out, but I expected something a bit darker or something.

Second thing, how things got resolved with Faerie. Honestly, I expected Faeries to be of more importance in the end. The Unseelie King died in the middle of the book and his half-drunk son inherited him, so the only actual threat that was left was the Cohort. I was surprised that Ash was the weapon that caused the blight they were talking about and that was one big and quite an important point to the plot. In the end, Kieran inherited the throne of the Unseelie Court, which wasn't a big surprise and I think there ends the rivalry between Shadowhunters and the Unseelie Court. About Seelie… well, Queen fell suspiciously quiet in the second half of the book and I have this feeling she isn't done yet (which leaves another thing for The Wicked Powers).

Now I'm skipping to final battle because I have been dying to say something about that. I always enjoyed reading Clare's battle scenes, because all of them felt so inspiring and epic. One of the best scenes I have ever read is fighting between Julian, Emma and Riders of Mannan when Emma killed Fal. It was one, the last thing this book needed – an amazing battle, with all characters working together. Let's just not forget Dru, who has become one of my favorites through this book and Kit (Heir with powers!!! I already see TWP is going to be awesome). The outcome was pleasant, but not unexpectable. I knew Blackthorns and squad are going to win, but I was (pleasantly) surprised with the lack of death. After Lord of Shadows, I expected this to be a massacre, but it was less brutal. I'm not sure if I could take any of them dying.

And finally, the political outcome aka Cohort plot. As I said before I love how Cassie develops political life of Shadowhunters, as a forever changing constant that needs to be updated and fought for constantly. It had all led to the point where Horace became the Inquisitor and turned whole Council against Downworlders. After ending of Lord of Shadows, where I thought nothing could go wrong with that final plan, I was kind of anxious about Livvy's Army, but it all turned out well. Except for the Exile. When Cassie said Shadow World is going to change forever I didn't expect anything near this. I am eager to see how Clave works without Idris and I feel like this is going to be a major plotline in The Wicked Powers.

The ending of the Dark Artifices was pretty important to me and I had really high expectations for this book. Probably too high. I was hyped all year about it, so when it finally came, I expected it to be this epic book where I wouldn't be able to breathe and everything would surprise me. Which is totally unrealistic, I know, but that sense of disappointment disappeared after thinking through it and seeing how amazing this book actually was. So, all these negative comments are just small critiques or something that bugged me a bit, but all in all, I loved this book. This is probably the longest review I have ever written, so I think it is time to finish.

Cassandra Clare will remain one of my all-time favorite authors and I will never stop being so excited about her books. Can't wait for The Red Scrolls of Magic and then Chain of Gold!

Some other notes that I can’t fit in my review but have to share:

· I hate Zara more than anything I have ever hated

Zara always chose the same chair in the Inquisitor’s office. Manuel suspected it was because she liked to sit beneath the portrait of herself, so that people would be forced to gaze at two Zaras, and not just one.

· Some Kitty fluff

He made a face that was probably supposed to be scornful but was actually just cute.

“Yes, you can,” Kit whispered. “You can. You think this will make your family stronger, but it will destroy them if you bring her back. You think you can’t survive without Livvy, but you can. We will go through it together.” Kit’s face was cold; he realized he was crying. “I love you, Ty. I love you.”

Ty’s face went blank with surprise. Kit plowed on, regardless, hardly knowing what he was saying.

“She’s gone, Ty. She’s gone forever. You have to get through this. Your family will help you. I will help you. But not if you do this. Not if you do this, Ty.”

· Jemma fluff of course

So who am I to you, then?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“You are the person I have to protect until my Julian comes back to live inside you again,” she said. “I don’t want this. I want the Julian I love. You might be in the cage, Jules, but as long as you are like this, I am in the cage with you.”

· Ragnor Fell is one of the most amazing characters that ever existed

· Jem calling Emma little sister uwu

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