kat-is-laem-oa
Wrenny The Pooh
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Wren18 ('06)Multifandom!
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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fanfic writers are so fucking awesome in the sense that they can take one single scene, that lasts less than a minute, from the source material and turn that one single scene into a 40k word long fic with depth, feels, character study and development and create a whole storyline out of that one single canonical moment.
fanfic writers are so fucking awesome in the sense that they can take one single scene, that lasts less than a minute, from the source material and write 40 entirely different fics about that one single canonical moment and each one of those fics are literal masterpieces.
shout out to us fanfic writers ♡♡♡♡♡♡
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 12 (Mini/Bonus): No Me Decepciones, Lightwood
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“I left extra bedding in the closet. I’m sure you can call Magnus to help transfer your stuff,” Alec said as he rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, trying to look at anything but Eljah, like the blank walls were interesting. At the smaller man’s silence, he turned around and raised his eyebrows. “You okay?”
Eljah brushed the question off with a similar expression to Alec with drawn lips. “I’ll be fine. Don’t act shocked when I do force Magnus to redecorate this place, though.”
Alec smirked a little, huffing out a laugh. His aura was lightening with his stress levels and it made Eljah’s follow, simply happy to see him happy.
“I’m next door but I’m, you know… always doing something.” He swallowed in an attempt to bite back his painful inability to act cool. “I left my contact on the side table in case you can’t find me… or the others, around.”
Eljah’s mouth formed a reverse smile, but it didn’t accurately convey his emotions. He found it genuine and kind that Alec would go through the effort of finding and filling a room for Eljah, instead of simply ordering someone else to do it, and then leaving a way to reach the shadowhunter at all times.
Maybe he was overthinking it. The man was still unsure if Alec would ever match with him like he did with Magnus. They looked… complete when they were together, and Eljah couldn’t deny it. Hell, Izzy even made a joke about Magnus. Clearly, people see something possible between the two.
No one ever saw Eljah as a possibility.
“Thank you, Alec. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll get out of your family’s hair as soon as I can, I promise.”
“You don’t have to.”
“What?”
“I mean… you could always… stay,” he stuttered and struggled to maintain eye contact.
“Alec-”
“I’m just saying. It’s dangerous for Shadowhunters even from inside the Institute… imagining you out there on your own, it’s… It’s just too risky, okay?”
“Do you want me to stay because it’s dangerous, or?…”
“I don’t know. I can’t-” he closed his mouth in a tight line, breathing deeply with his eyes shut. “I don’t know… but if you stay, I could try to… figure it out.”
“Would you do that?”
“I think I would.”
“No me decepciones, Lightwood.” Alec absolutely had no idea what Eljah was saying (he liked French and Latin best growing up), but he sheepishly smiled regardless.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
Last chapter in this upload series! It is plentiful, to say the least, so I thought a cute chapter in between would, well... be cute! Much love! - Wren
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 11: The New York Institute
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Eljah’s phone had died, conveniently, after he’d left this morning. It was a blessing in the moment, but now he was worried about the lack of communication he’d done with his vampiric best friend. He hoped he could find a moment to charge up the block like he usually did; with magic.
The group was charging past lines of red metal and piping, a certain rush in their step as they naturally encircled Clary. Jace, Izzy, and Clary were well-equipped with their seraph blades at the ready. Clary was out of breath, bumping into Eljah as she slowed down, saying, “I’m sorry, Jace.” Eljah thought, weird you are apologizing to only him. My foot just got crushed!
“It’s okay, we can take a breather,” he reassured.
“No, it’s not that, I…” she paused, looking back and forth between Isabelle and Eljah. They got the hint.
Izzy sighed, “we’ll scout ahead. Come on,” nodding to Eljah. The timing of this little talk was inconvenient and inappropriate, but you only live once. Izzy surprised him by pulling Eljah by the hand, the two rushing together into further darkness broken by the blue glow of the sword.
The duo stopped in their tracks at the red energetic pulsing of Isabelle’s necklace; the sound becoming irritating Eljah once again. She signaled to Jace and Clary, who were now caught up to them.
“Again?” Clary huffed, severely out of breath but still keeping up.
“Getting close. Let’s spread out,” Isabelle ordered, taking her leadership role seriously. Eljah wasn’t rushing his way through, taking slow and careful steps. They all heard the demon grumbling and moaning like a dying animal. Its feet stomped above them ominously, startling Eljah the louder it got.
“Izzy, where is it!?” Jace called out.
“I don’t know! It’s like they’re right here, but I don’t see them.”
“I thought it was above us,” Eljah said as he locked in, body habitually forming a fight stance as he narrowed his mind to reduce background thoughts and noise. “But it sounds like it’s everywhere.”
The snarls and clattering loomed closer, the group no longer spread out. In any other situation, Eljah would’ve thought rats had infested the walls.
It finally revealed itself, jumping directly onto Jace from above, and Clary screamed in shock. He grunted, almost dropping his seraph blade and falling on impact. The ugly, gigantic bug look alike was inches from Jace’s face, the man all too calm for Clary’s liking as he held it back.
He probably enjoyed slicing it down the middle.
Clary ran breathlessly to him. “Are you hurt!?” Jace was observing his hand in disgust at the wet filament coating the now dead demon.
“I’ll live.”
“What are those things?”
“Gross,” Eljah whispered in response. Clary rolled her eyes lightheartedly, telling Eljah to be serious. He sighed right back, telling her, “Shax demons.”
“They’re like the bloodhounds of the Shadow world,” Jace added, studying the surroundings.
“They’ve been tracking us!” Isabelle whipped her head around.
“What do we do?” Clary looked straight to Jace.
“The Institute’s only a couple blocks from here. We can’t lose them, but they won’t be able to track us if we split up.” Clary didn’t appreciate the plan, objecting immediately with a shake of her head and a stutter. “Clary! You’ll be fine. Izzy and I will draw them away. No matter what happens, stay with Eljah, and keep running.”
“They’re coming!” Isabelle warned. The young redhead wouldn’t move, so Eljah took it upon himself to grab her arm and begin the jog himself. He only let go once they breached the nearest door, descending the dark again with panting lungs.
There were massive fans above them in the corridor they entered, the shadows making way for light. Clary overtook Eljah, the two turning back at the sound of a squeal, making them speed up their already strenuous pace.
“Shit!” Eljah yelped as they hit bars, blocking them in the tiny hallway. He hadn’t hit the amount of panic Clary had well-exceeded by now as she banged against them in hopes something would come loose.
The Shax Demon skidded around the hallway corner, the two shadowhunters clumping together as they shouted in fear.
“Give me your blade,” Eljah rushed, open hand ready for her to give it up.
“What?”
“Clary! Give me your blade!” He yelled, eyes wide with taut eyebrows in desperation. The creature screeched and Clary whimpered, giving up her weapon quickly.
Eljah grasped it firmly, the white and blue glow turning dark purple and lining the hallway with the new color. Clary didn’t notice, distracted digging in her bag for the tarot card containing the cup. The exhausted man took out the closest Shax Demon before he heard an outcry, “get back!” Clary had the Mortal Cup in hand, ordering the demons away. “I said, get back!”
And it worked.
The disgusting creatures hastily reversed, angry without their Shadowhunter meal. Clary looked so relieved, laughing nervously alongside Eljah. The two observed the shiny object in pure awe, but Clary’s face dropped as she switched focus to her blade, still in Eljah’s hands.
“Sorry, sorry. Here,” he passed it back, pretending not to notice the looks she was giving him. He wanted to trust Clary, but he honestly expected there to be a witch hunt in the near future. Taiwan it is! “Let's find the others,” he finished, backing away and taking long strides out of the long hallway.
“Jace?” Clary called out, her voice echoing loudly in the empty space. “Where are they?” She asked Eljah, the awkward tension between the two gone.
“I’m hoping nearby.”
The voice of Jace sounded from around the corner, calling out for the redhead. Eljah had busied himself seconds ago with watching the entrance they’d just popped out of.
“Oh, you’re hurt!”
“I’ll be alright. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m…” she slowed. Eljah turned and almost jumped out of his skin. The aura surrounding Jace was disgustingly murky and unreadable. Eljah mentally pushed past the barrier and saw the demon underlining the fake skin. Clary’s tip-ff should’ve been the absence of Isabelle.
“Clary, back up,” he calmly ordered her way.
“What happened?”
“One of the Shax demons cornered us. But I got the cup!” She ignored Eljah, just happy to reunite the “Jace”. The demon looked at Eljah liked a piece of meat, making his skin crawl. He grabbed Clary’s arm, pulling her behind him.
“What are you doing!?” Clary asked, missing the signals.
“I always knew you could do it, Clary. Now give me the Cup and let’s go,” the demon still attempted. Clary brushed off Eljah’s arm slowly, letting herself play the part.
She scoffed, “Give you the Cup?” approaching the man in front of her.
“Yes,” he responded, like it was obvious, “only until we get back to the Institute. It’s the only way I can keep you safe. I’ll die before I let anything happen to you,” he droned on and on, like he had rehearsed the line.
“Yeah-”
“Clary!” Eljah hailed.
“You’re totally right.” She leaned into her bag, feigning the collection of the Cup for Jace, but brandishing the Seraph blade that glowed normally again at Clary’s touch. She slammed it into Jace’s chest, the man lurching forward.
It seemed Clary couldn’t tell if she made the right choice; the demon looking beneath Jace’s eyelashes at her and guilting her with a whisper of her name.
“Clary, finish it!” Eljah yelled out, gasping aloud as the demon’s true face exposed in the light of her sword. The demon burst unceremoniously into pure flame and gravel-like material in front of the traumatized girl, her eyes wide and mouth poised in disgust as they both stared at the remnants.
The duo surged in fear as Clary’s name was called again. They turned to face an approaching Luke and Alec, Eljah taking up his place behind Clary whose weapon was held high in defense of the two. Eljah didn’t even realize his hands had both formed Ls with his thumb, pointer, and middle finger.
“Get back! How do I know you’re Luke?” Clary shrieked as they got closer, Luke’s hands held out in submission and Alec kept a slow, considerate pace behind him.
“I got you spray paint for your birthday.” Eljah didn’t know if it was true and he couldn’t tell by Clary’s facial expression, still stressed and drawn. “What happened?”
“Uh, demons,” she released her fighting position, still out of breath, “long story, um… where’d you come from?”
“Jail,” he answered plainly, “I ran into Alec. Said you might be down here. Thought you might need some help.”
The gravel dust on the floor disintegrated into thin air, making Alec stare at her in disbelief. “Apparently not. Looks like she took care of it.” The towering hunter looked at Eljah whose hands balled into fists, nodding his head down as if to ask, “are you okay?” when the two made eye contact. Eljah just looked down, tired of explaining himself.
“Shouldn’t we get going or something?” Clary asked in a scramble. “More demons could be coming, right?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Luke assured, “I got the pack on the lookout. If there’s any other demons, we’ll take care of them.”
Clary chuckled, “look at you. Leader of the pack.” It was incredibly sweet how impressed she was with her father figure, the man smiling in appreciation.
“Well, you know, it has its perks,” he joked and met soft laughs from the entire group.
“Shall we?” Clary asked, walking behind the werewolf. Alec didn’t move until Eljah was passing his side, keeping toe to toe movements matched like he couldn’t stand to let a foot come between them.
Deciding to stay within the Institute was a purely selfish decision. He didn’t care to stay and help with whatever was going on in the building, unless it meant gazing at Alec more. The middle of the New York Institute they’d just entered was massive, screens lining the walls and LED lights on almost every surface. Jace all but ran to Clary when he saw her, the two sharing a very intimate and relieved hug in the middle of the room.
… That hug just turned into a kiss, and Eljah balled his right fist in front of his mouth, blowing stifled air out at the confidence the two had to finally just make out. Isabelle had walked over from the left just in time to witness it, too.
Alec looked uncomfortable, though, despite the humor Eljah found in the situation. He had forgotten Alec was in love with his Parabatai.
He took the beat of time to let his phone light up, playing its opening ring tone. The second it unlocked, his head knocked back at the amount of notification noises and he almost dropped his phone.
“Damn, someone’s popular,” Isabelle teased.
“Hardly.” Eljah saw the missed calls and texts from his best friend, taking a moment to weigh if he should call him back or not. He clicked the notification, and it automatically rang. Eljah excused himself, only going as far as the stained glass windows, biting the nail on his right thumb as he waited. He didn’t expect Raphael to be awake, the sun already shining through at Eljah.
“¿Dónde diablos has estado? Where the hell have you been?” Raphael essentially yelled at Eljah.
“Cálmate, cálmate, por favor. Estoy bien. Estaba ayudando a los cazadores de sombras. Habría llamado pero mi teléfono murió. Lo siento. Calm down, calm down, please. I’m just fine. I was helping out the Shadowhunters. I would’ve called, but my phone died. I’m sorry,” Eljah scrambled to answer, forgetting a native speaker was nearby.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Izzy leaned in to whisper to her big brother. Alec leaned in as well, trying to be casual as they heard Eljah bickering with someone over the phone.
“You were listening? I really regret not taking Spanish with you growing up,” Alec revealed in a huff.
“No vengas a casa, Eljah. Las cosas están mal ahora, y no quiero que hables con Camille, ¿de acuerdo? Don’t come home, Eljah. Things are bad now, and I don’t want you to talk to Camille, okay?”
Isabelle paused as she snooped, recognizing the name. Alec looked incredibly confused, only able to go off of his sister’s face.
“Si las cosas van mal, debería volver a casa. Camille no me asusta. If things are bad, I should come home. Camille doesn’t scare me,” he argued.
“Eljah.” Raphael took a deep breath, trying to reel in his anger so he wouldn’t upset Eljah. “She’s never done anything like this before. Stay at Magnus’, I’m sure he’ll let you. Just steer clear of the DuMort for a while.” Eljah looked like a sad puppy, arms crossed and expression somber, leaning against the window.
“Something is happening with the vampires,” Isabelle revealed to Alec. “Someone told him not to come home.”
“He’s been staying at the DuMort?” Alec asked incredulously, looking at Eljah over his left shoulder. Isabelle stood still, overlooking the hub.
“Raphael-”
“I have to go. Stay safe, amigo,” Raphael concluded, hanging up the phone.
“Where are you staying?” Izzy asked, giving Eljah no time to mourn the call (and making Eljah question if she was listening).
“Um, don’t worry about it,” he excused. Alec didn’t like his answer, rolling his eyes.
“I’ll find you a room,” Alec mumbled, not even glancing at Eljah before he trudged off in the direction Izzy had come from. Eljah remained perplexed, Isabelle giggling at his body language.
“No te preocupes, amigo mío Don’t worry, my friend. My big brother will handle everything for you. Besides, we like seeing you around here. You can find plenty of things to do, I promise.” She smiled charmingly, always exuding confidence and sisterly comfort to anyone in need.“Sin promesas, ojos de ángel… No promises, Angel Eyes…”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 10: I Work Here
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Jace strutted confidently back through the NYPD doors, the rest following in confusion. When Eljah tried to catch up to the redhead, Alec pulled him back.
“Just let them do their thing.”
“What does it matter who I follow?” Although Eljah was thinking he was tired of being around the lovebirds, Clary was the only one he felt comfortable around. She was new to this world, and in a way, he was, too. He’d been so far removed from the world, without a choice, that things had completely changed.
Alec didn’t even respond, only rolling his eyes.
The three traveled down a skinny flight of stairs and walked through big, blue glass doors. This area was more packed. Eljah was slightly worried about being seen again by reoccurring employees, taking a spot in between but somewhat behind the siblings, using Alec’s height to shield him as he stood against a pillar.
“Okay, I’m guessing you’re the distraction?” Alec asked his sister. Eljah had expected the same, used to Isabelle’s natural charm even though he hadn’t known her long.
“Nope! I’ve decided to grow up, remember?” lowering her head and looking toward Alec. “No more distracting for me.”
Alec was physically tweaking, hand tapping his thigh rapidly. He knew what that meant, and so did Eljah.
“Besides, I don’t think I’m her type…” gazing at the woman seated at the surprisingly small front desk.
“Oh, crap,” Alec mumbled. It made the smaller man giggle, which Alec glared in response to. His hands were wiping down his jacket and readjusting it, a rare sight to see, as his palms got sweaty.
“Don’t worry, it’s good practice,” Isabelle encouraged. Poor Alec was not encouraged.
“Huh?”
“You know, for asking out Magnus.” Eljah also looked at a laughing Isabelle at the mention of the older warlock. It was painful when Alec turned to look at Eljah, who was covering a smile under his hand. The man just sighed.
“What are you… What are you doing?” Alec struggled against Isabelle’s attempts to make him more attractive to the female gaze. His voice wavered, and it was adorable in Eljah’s eyes. The tall man acted like a shy schoolgirl when he was around him.
“Unbuttoning your shirt. What’s it look like I’m doing?” Isabelle overpowered with strict focus, interrupted by Alec aggressively pushing her hands away. Eljah wasn’t fond of aggression towards women, but it was different with siblings, obviously.
“Izzy, this is not really my department,” Alec stressed. Eljah popped from his spot against the wall, replacing Izzy.
“Take a deep breath,” he emphasized with a hand to his jacket, “just… pretend it’s someone else.” Eljah refused to say, “pretend it’s me,” because it would be one hundred percent pretentious. Alec didn’t look like he was listening, though (despite actively doing so), eyes locked on the smaller man in front of him. He swallowed thickly, almost like he was going to choke.
“It’s easy,” Izzy chimed in, patting his back in support. Alec took a deep breath with a grasp of Eljah’s hand, holding it longer than expected as his eyes rolled back into his head. He released it, and Isabelle and Eljah stood back in awe as they watched Alec approach the desk.
“Hey,” he smiled cutely to alert the woman. She didn’t look all that affected just by looking at Alec (Eljah was envious), most likely because she was middle-aged.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, um…” he stuttered roughly, “you- you come here often?” Eljah could’ve facepalmed, but he stood completely still, otherwise he would’ve cackled. Oh, it hurt. It really hurt.
She was in disbelief, rolling her eyes before stating the obvious. “I work here. What can I help you with?” Eljah wiped the corners of his mouth to erase the smile on his face, jutting Izzy to do the same.
“Right, right, right. Yeah, um… I’m just looking for some information,” he began rattling off wildly. Eljah almost forgot they were doing all this to steal her keycard.
Alec acted shocked to see the pamphlets clearly laid out, but purposefully pushed over the officer’s water bottle and pilfered the card to Izzy with a swipe.
He apologized profusely, attempting to help while keeping her distracted. Eljah stayed put as Izzy walked forward, catching the badge with ease.
Eljah couldn’t help but repeatedly slap Alec’s arm in excitement when the two reunited, splitting off from Isabelle. “You did it!” he released in a low shriek. Alec played it off, but he was smirking with clear pride in himself, egged on by Eljah’s encouragement.
Alec returned to stoic as they fully regrouped. “Did you get it?”
“Theoretically,” Clary answered.
“Theoretically?” Alec repeated, already getting agitated again.
“I- I found the card. I just have to figure out how I reached into my notebook before. It’s- It’s not an exact science,” she further explained.
“Can’t you just pull the Cup out?” Alec was being annoying again and Eljah knocked his arm in light retribution, whispering, “she just told you she has to figure it out.” Alec at least feigned hurt.
“It’s not as easy as it looks, Alec!” Clary countered.
“Listen, you two can discuss theories as much as you want when we get back to the Institute. But right now, considering we just stole from the cops, I suggest we get home.” Jace was serious, and the flashing blue and red lights made his expression grimmer.
“Guys…” Isabelle whispering, her necklace (which Eljah remembered vividly) pulsing on her neck. “I think the mundanes might be the least of our worries.”
“Well, at least we have the demon necklace,” Alec appreciated.
“Thank you, Magnus,” Eljah jokingly sighed. Credit where credit is due!
“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec echoed.
Jace moved first, leading the group calmly away, saying, “never a dull day. Let’s go.” While it should’ve been simple, Clary called out to the group.
“Guys, slow down!”
“¿Qué pasa, rojo? What’s wrong, red?” Eljah called out, turning to see Clary had bumped into something; something was not the old grandma Clary claimed to have seen. As he turned to the commotion, the demon had four sharp rods of teeth extended toward his new friend, more rows at the ready inside its mouth.
While Eljah wanted to lunge to help her, Alec hooked an arm around the slighter man, effectively telling him to let Jace handle it.
“Tienes suerte de que me gustes You are lucky I like you,” Eljah hissed up at the man holding him back, who looked perplexed at the sudden anger Eljah presented, letting him go promptly.
“Te acostumbras You get used to it,” Isabelle grinned. Eljah totally forgot they were a Latinx family, unaccustomed to anyone but Raphael understanding him. Puerto Rican Spanish wasn’t vastly different from Spain Spanish or others. There were plenty of grammar rules that differentiated Boricuas Spanish, but it wasn’t impossible to understand in other Latin countries.
Alec did regain hold of him, dragging him to Jace and Clary, asking, “how did it find us?”
Let’s be real. Clary was one of the brightest redheads Eljah had ever seen… and he’s been alive for two centuries! How could you miss her?
The “cops” exiting their vehicle nearby most likely spotted her that way. Maybe she should invest in hair dye, Eljah thought. Maybe I should too. Their eyes were black, but so was their energy, the bigger giveaway to Eljah.
“I don’t know… but she brought friends,” Jace pointed out.
“How can you tell?” Clary hastily asked, looking around her, trying to spot what she was missing.
“It’s like seeing through a glamor. You just gotta pay attention to the details.”
“But I can’t see anything!” Clary seeped pure stress.
“Behind us,” Izzy called out, to no avail for Clary.
“Okay, there is too many people,” the redhead expressed, sticking close to Jace.
“I don’t say this often, but I agree with Clary,” Alec muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”
“Hey, this way!” Taking the group down a brutally long set of stairs and making for a back door to a connected building, Clary asked, “what’s the unlock rune again?”
Jace responded by kicking in the door. “Open sesame,” he said with a smirk. Gaining entrance to the building, the crew ran through, but dropped a member on the way.
“What are you doing?” Eljah huffed, irritation catching up to him.
“Holding them off,” Alec said, too casual for Eljah’s liking. “Take Clary back to the Institute.
“No, if you’re staying, I’m staying. We fight together,” Jace argued, upset at the possible parting with his Parabatai. It had happened too often lately, and despite never having had a Parabatai himself, Eljah knew it was rough.
“Don’t be stupid. If the demons get the cup, we’re dead anyway,” Alec finished, not wanting to argue anymore.
“I’m not leaving anyone behind!”
“You don’t have a choice!” Elijah felt alarmed and uncomfortable with confrontation and anger.
Clary made Eljah slightly upset when she said, “I know you guys are having a moment, okay? But we really have to go.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not like this is the first time Alec has saved your life. I doubt it’d be the last,” Isabelle added.
“Go,” Alec ordered. Eljah stepped back rather slowly, unsure of what to do. Alec sighed, readying his bow and telling Eljah, “go back to the Institute. No detours,” before raising an arrow to the entrance.
Who was he to deny orders from the Alec Lightwood?
(He wanted to…)
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 9: New Dye-Job and Pig Pens
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Eljah surprised himself when he stayed for breakfast. Maybe it was him being selfish, soaking up what could be the only time he had with Magnus. Or maybe he felt bad because of Alec’s semi-rejection upon first waking, staying to keep the old, lonely warlock company.
“Are your Arepas to your liking?” Magnus sought confirmation. His apartment smelled heavenly, the food fusing with Magnus’ refreshing scent relaxed Eljah.
“God, yes,” Eljah giggled in pure delight, reaching for another filled flatbread. He normally would contain his reactions to things, but Magnus could read him like a book (el anciano old man).
“I’m surprised you said you haven’t had them in a while, being a warlock and all.”
“Honestly, I’ve adjusted to the DuMort’s schedule and because, you know… they don’t eat human food, I just forget to eat, you know?”
“If you need a place to stay, you know I have the space. I love Raphael, but the vamp’s lifestyles aren’t always best for a warlock. And I can see the lack of sleep practically whirling off you.”
“I can see it off of everyone, too. I guess I’m so used to it I’ve stopped noticing it in myself. You’re giving off green, so I’m guessing you slept well last night.”
“How could I not? I was practically laying on your lap, Eljah,” the two giggled, Eljah’s face turning bright red as he hid behind his hands. Magnus turned his head, reminiscent of Eljah’s habit when confused. “Can you literally see the color of my energy?”
“Yes. I can see everyone’s aura most of the time. When I’m… not mentally present, though, it looks more like television static. It’s a constant.”
“How did Alexander look earlier? Was he angry?” Eljah paused, trying to remember the exact change in the tall shadowhunter’s appearance.
“I don’t think so.” He was fresh from sleep when Alec rushed out, so it was rough to remember. “I think it was white and a slight purple.”
“What does that mean?” Magnus refilled Eljah’s glass of iced tea with a snap of his fingers. His hair was still completely intact despite last night’s hectic events.
Eljah sighed. “It means he was nervous and a little aggressive. Probably from stress.”
“I meant what I said. Liquor might have been a bad idea, but I had fun. I’m not trying to play your or Alexander.”
“And I don’t want you to stress over my reactions to things! I mean-” Eljah groaned, more aggressively, “I think I like you too… I’m just not good at any of this, much less with two people involved. The last time…” Eljah zoned out and Magnus jutted his head into his point of view, both eyebrows raising.
“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay,” he reached forward and grasped the smaller boy’s hand, “I’ve had my fair share of poor relationships.” Magnus meant it to be light-hearted, but Eljah closed his eyes and exhaled. It wasn’t just a poor relationship… it wasn’t a relationship at all. It was a soon-to-be eighteen-year-old being taken advantage of.
At Eljah’s silence, Magnus reached up a hand and carefully brushed back the hair that fell in Eljah’s eyesight. The younger warlock opened his eyes, expecting to meet Magnus’, but a portion of Eljah’s hair distracted the other man.
“When did you have time to bleach your hair?” Magnus tittered, but he was genuinely confused. Now, so was Eljah.
He rose instantly and directed himself into the bathroom. He shut the door with an unintentional slam and locked it (not that it could keep Magnus out, but it was habitual). Eljah practically threw himself forward over the sink to check the strands of hair.
Eljah’s hair had always been borderline black, with random strands of highlighted hair. It hadn’t been bleached or dyed. It hadn’t looked genuine growing up, leading to lots of different situations, but now, in more modern times, he could fit in.
There were still highlights around his head, but a small section of pure white appeared on the right side, like it had changed overnight.
“Eljah?” Magnus knocked on the bathroom door. “Luke and Clary are awake. Do you want to send them off?” Eljah felt panicked. He stared at his reflection, trying to take deep breaths. His eyes were watering uncomfortably, and he tried to rub the emotions away.
He swung the door open, Magnus standing with his fist up like he was about to knock again, and faked a smile. “Better yet, I’ll accompany them.” He sped to grab the phone he left on the table while he hastily tied his hair up in a bun.
“Are you sure?” Magnus chased him down, hot on his feet. “Yesterday took a lot out of you.”
“Yep! Just fine, just fine,” he echoed his words, his nerves on full display for everyone, which made him want to jump out of his skin and run. It angered him to no avail when he couldn’t conceal his feelings. “I’ll meet you two downstairs. Thank you for breakfast, Magnus.”
He left the red accented door wide open for the shadowhunter and werewolf, flying out the door to the elevator and passing a bewildered Jace in the hallway.
The group of four approached the massive NYPD building. It was a horrid amount of dirty gray concrete against fresh blue tinted windows. The air was slightly humid, but the wind made up for it, sailing away the smell of farm animals (no offense, Luke). Jace and Luke walked calmly in their usual attire, Clary and Eljah taking up the middle of the group and looking around.
A siren sounded in the distance as Luke laid the plan out. “All right, cards are on my desk. It shouldn’t take long,” turning to face the others in his blue, collared shirt. He had his gun strapped along his jeans. Eljah hadn’t had access or time to grab any weapons once again, so he was told to stay with Luke.
Jace mumbled, “all right,” but Luke placed a hand out, interrupting him.
“It’ll be easier to avoid unnecessary attention if I do this alone.” No one had objections, and the three shadowhunters stayed put, watching Luke’s figure descend into the police department. Jace and Eljah mirrored each other, arms crossed and eyes taut on high alert from being out in the open with Valentine’s daughter. Clary was more than that, but he couldn’t help but be realistic; she was in danger at all hours of the day.
“It sounded boring anyway,” Jace whined, making Eljah snicker. Clary smiled sarcastically and shook her head at Jace’s humor.
Minutes had passed before Eljah’s gut dropped. Clary verbalized Eljah’s thoughts.
“I have a bad feeling about this. What is taking him so long?”
“I know a way we could find out,” Jace hinted. “Just go in and see for ourselves.”
“Luke told us to stay put, so that’s what we’re gonna do,” Clary stood her ground. Her inability to break the rules when needed disappointed Eljah. Before Eljah could confront her about letting other people run her life, the redhead’s phone went off. “That’s probably him now.”
Jace and Eljah were looking at the same thing. Their alpha werewolf was being walked down the hallway by his own colleagues.
“I doubt it,” Jace and Eljah echoed simultaneously, looking at each other weirdly before shaking it off.
“Just so I’m clear, he did mention something about trying to avoid attention, right?” Clary’s attention lined up with the other two, now realizing what Jace was hinting at. “From the looks of it, he’s doing a terrible job…”
“Circle members?” Clary asked. Jace’s energy grew exponentially, and Eljah could see it from the corner of his eye. The two were focusing on the agent’s identities through the glass corridor. Eljah didn’t actually know much about mundane positions in society, but the badges looked official to him.
“No, mundanes. Internal affairs officers,” Jace explained. It didn’t lighten their worries much, because either way Luke was in trouble, but mundanes are better than the Circle!
“You can tell all that just by looking at them?” Clary mocked.
“I can tell all that by reading their badges.” That woke Clary up, looking back to confirm if it was possible to see their identifications. She furrowed her eyebrows, but then eased up when Jace revealed his rune. “Better than binoculars. Luke had his chance. Let’s go.”
Clary’s knowledge of the basic layout of the police department made Eljah and Jace incredibly lucky, as the never-ending weird backroom-looking offices would have left them lost without her. Luke sat across from the bald internal affairs officer whose earlier vibe threw Eljah off immensely. The man just looked mean!
Waiting for the right moment to walk in, the three huddled outside the interrogation room. The bald officer finally made his exit, holding the door open a smidge, just enough for the three to sneak in behind. The three had activated their unseen rune so there was no need to worry about being caught by the mundanes surrounding them.
Luke made the mistake of ignoring a question and following us with his eyes. He must’ve looked deranged to the mundane officer.
“Garroway! Coffee?” He repeated himself. Luke shook him off and declined his offer distractedly.
“Suit yourself,” he finished, shutting the door as he left. Everyone stood casually, silence interrupted by Luke ripping a tissue out of a box before him. He faked blowing his nose to notify the shadowhunters of the camera in the corner, Jace being the first to jump into action and turn it off.
“Luke, what is going on?” Clary interrogated. Eljah was cringing at the walls of the building, becoming less interested in helping as the minutes passed, not liking the amount of germs he could practically sense coming off the surfaces. It gave him the icky rush of energy in his neck.
“I think I’m about to be the prime suspect in a murder investigation.” Nevermind. He was interested. Clary and Jace didn’t seem surprised, like Eljah, though. The latter was staring into the one-way mirror like a goofball.
“What do we do?” Clary asked. Her hair flipped graciously as she looked at everyone in the room. She was such a gorgeous girl, it made Eljah wish he looked like her momentarily.
“Get the cards,” Luke ordered plainly. “In my desk, bottom drawer.” Clary agreed, already turning to walk out. Both Luke and Eljah reminded her swiftly of the lack-of-visibility and how it wouldn’t slide with the downworlders.
“You can’t glamor yourselves. I’m not the only downworlder on the force, and we don’t know who’s working for Valentine. If anybody spots you-”
“We’d be leading them right to the cup,” Eljah finished, ahead of the werewolf leader.
“Exactly. Better to assume that everybody has the Sight than gamble that they don’t.” He quit speaking just in time, the lock clicking and startling the group. “I can handle myself.”
While the returning officer was busy asking about the dead camera, the crew rushed back out the way they came, Eljah almost clipping the door as baldy slammed it shut.
Eljah could gag being confined with the two lovers in this random case file-filled closet. The two were giggling at the awkward placement, but Eljah kept lifting his collar away from his neck, like it would make him less claustrophobic.
“You need help with that?” Jace smirked.
“I can deglamorize myself, Jace.” Eljah thought, and I can change the trajectory of your lives myself if I could just find some rope and a bucket sarcastically out of pure discomfort. The energy in the room pulsated and spread as Clary ultimately accepted the aid from Jace.
“The cards?” Clary prompted.
“Right.” Right! “How exactly are we gonna get them?”
“Not from here,” Eljah mumbled. However awkward Magnus’ place would’ve been right now, anything was better than watching straight people flirt.
“I doubt we can make it out of this closet without drawing attention, let alone Luke’s desk, and you are covered in runes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.” Clary explained with more hints of flirtatious tone.
“A good plan this time?”
“90%. Eljah, stay close behind me, yeah?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I want out of here.”
“Just follow my lead,” she turned to Jace, “oh, and I apologize.”
“Apologize for what?”
“You son of a bitch!” Clary shouted, smacking Jace square on his cheek. Eljah bit back an actual cackle, hand closing over his mouth to keep him from exploding. The noise Jace made in shock only spurred Eljah on.
“Stop following me!” Clary ordered. Holy shit, Clary is kind of fun.
“Hey, what happened to being discreet?” Jace whispered, awed and alarmed. He made the mistake of grabbing Clary’s arm.
“Hmm? Wait, what did you say?” she propelled on. “You cheated on me!?” Eljah was baffled, barely able to think of an excuse for him being in between this lover’s quarrel. Jace was stammering, Huh? And playing it safe.
Eljah placed his hand on his chest, making distance between him and Clary. “Dude, go home.”
“Woah, I did not!”
“You will never see me at your crappy apartment again!” Clary yelled as she flung open Luke’s desk drawer. Eljah tried his best to look intimidating, standing like a guard between the two.
“That girl means nothing to me. Nothing!”
“Is that the boyfriend that I heard so much about?”
“Nope, not anymore-”
“Hi.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Eljah subdued, standing strong in his place. Making eye contact with the blonde shadowhunter at that moment was comical on a different level. Eljah stuck out his tongue while the cops weren’t looking, teasing Jace further with a scrunched-nose smile. Jace fought not to laugh, either.
“-I’m dumping him. Where is all of Luke’s stuff?”
“IA took everything. What are you looking for?”
“I, uh… I lost a house key and Luke normally keeps a spare in his desk, so is there any way I can get it?”
“Uh, not ‘til he’s cleared.” Well, that’s awkward.
Clary played dumb, “cleared? Of… of what?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll get it handled.”
“Clary! I’m sorry. I apologize, I just want you to know it only happened, like… two or… it just happened a couple of times, and I am totally-”
“Shut up,” the two females and Eljah hailed at the same time.
“Babe, come on!”
“Listen, you don’t get to call her ‘babe,’ okay? In fact, you don’t get to call her at all. Clary’s done with you. You got it?” Eljah never learned the woman’s name—he guessed she was a detective like Luke—but it was sweet to think Clary had mundanes in her life that would defend her like that. “Take him out,” she directed the officers.
Eljah turned around to face Clary and the detective. “I’ll take you home, Clary. I’ll buy you something sweet on the way back. How about that?” He tried his best to imitate Jace, the straightest dude he’d ever met.
“I have rights!”
The lady smiled at Eljah, turning to whisper to Clary, saying something Eljah couldn’t pick up. “Perhaps it’s for the best? The other one’s a cutie, though.” She winked at the younger girl before she clenched her teeth, noticing something on Clary. “Oh, matching tattoos. That’s… a big red flag…” She was a yapper, trying to relate to Clary, but they didn’t have the time.
“I really need that key,” Clary pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Clary, but IA has all of Luke’s things in the evidence vault upstairs.”
You don’t say?
The woman carried on. Eljah was getting restless. He just wanted to be home, wherever that even was. He deserved a trip somewhere after doing all this shadowhunter work; maybe Taiwan?
“You know what? I’m gonna bring Alec with me next time! I don’t think he’s ever slapped me in the face.”
Clary sighed desperately, saying, “I’m sorry, I panicked!”
“It was a decent plan! You did perfect, Clary,” Eljah encouraged. The redhead giggled right back at Eljah.
“Not too shabby catching up, yourself, Eljah.”
“Some call for backup?”
The deep voice was recognizable from anywhere. Eljah didn’t see Jace call for said backup, but of course he did. Eljah stopped in his tracks at the sight of Alec. His heartbeat picked up and his own aura went wild; he was concerned it would become visible if he didn’t calm down.
“Yeah. What took you guys so long?” Jace asked. Alec was looking Eljah up and down like no one was around them, but his expression morphed when he rotated toward his Parabatai.
“Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
“It’s complicated.” Eljah wondered why everything was always complicated around here. Everyone was angsty and uptight to the point it killed Eljah’s sense of distraction.
“We found the Cup.”
“The Cup?” Isabelle asked. Her clothes were more modest than usual, hair even slicked back like a secretary. Very professional, no fun.
“Yeah, but then we lost it. We have to sneak back into the precinct to get it.”
“It’s not technically lost,” Eljah mumbled, crossing his arms as the temperature started to affect him. “It’s in an evidence vault on the top floor.”
“This is a disaster.”
“You think everything is a disaster-” Eljah started, feeling his emotions get out of hand.
“Hey, demon pox is a disaster. This is an inconvenience,” Jace interrupted. “We just need a plan.”
“What about a glamor?” Isabelle spoke up.
“We tried that. Anyone working with Valentine will see right through it.”
“Can we ask Magnus Bane to portal us inside?” Eljah sucked in air through clenched teeth, shaking his head.
“I don’t think so…”
“No.” Alec and Eljah said together. They froze and stared at each other.
“That’d be awkward…” Isabelle tantalized, looking away dramatically before gasping in the same fashion. “Magnus can only portal us to places he’s been to before.”
Alec stared off into space with malice in his eyes. Accentuating his emotions further were his thick eyebrows, which made Eljah want to giggle. Distracted once again, he barely noticed Clary’s phone ringing.
“Not again. Just give me a second. Simon, this is-” she walked off before Eljah could hear the rest of the call, too lazy to listen in with any supernatural abilities. Jace, on the other hand, didn’t wait for Simon and Clary’s call to finish. It sounded urgent, but the blonde practically ripped the phone out of Clary’s hand and ended the call for her.
“Simon’s little problem can wait. I’ve got a great plan.”
“Oh, there’s a first.” Tired of the energy between the two, he finally physically gagged, alerting Isabelle and Alec.
“Are you okay?” Isabelle asked sweetly.
“Yeah, dude, just… too much time around straight people,” he shivered. Isabelle giggled as Jace laughed sarcastically at what Clary had said.
“Just follow my lead. Oh, and don’t worry. In my plan, no one gets slapped.”
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 8: Magic for Stains
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“I know where the cup is.” The redhead stood strong and assured, her eyes wide and taut. The energy boosting from her body was churning red and orange, which complimented her hidden excitement while showing how passionate she was.
She flipped around as the room’s interest lit up. Magnus closed the book in his hands and Jace jumped up, moving into the middle of the room. Eljah had felt Clary’s energy shift from the room over, already standing at the ready on the fluffy cream-colored rug.
“Come again?” Jace asked.
“The tarot cards. My mom, she must have painted them years ago, but the Mortal Cup has to be hidden inside the Ace of Cups! The card looks exactly like it.” Eljah exhaled in comfort, consoled by Clary’s boost in memory.
Earlier, Magnus had taken the time to explain anything Eljah had missed while he was “traveling the world” (which wasn’t technically a lie). Eljah had been traveling before he came to Raphael seeking refuge, but it had been a year since; he was in New York this entire time. With the amount of coincidences, items missing or found, etc, it made sense to worry. It wasn’t helpful to Eljah’s current stress, but he needed to know.
Eljah sat down close to Magnus, who was sharing a look with Jace as he grasped Eljah’s knee. The expressions weren’t ones of excitement or happiness, which Clary pointed out. Eljah noticed then as the condo’s light hit the blonde shadowhunter that Jace had heterochromia in his eyes. It looked like someone had dropped a small splash of ink in his eye.
“All we have to do is find… Dot…” Eljah was just as confused as Clary until he remembered that name being mentioned during the club meeting. Poor thing.
“If Dot had the cards when she was taken, we don’t have much time,” Jace pointed out, “if Valentine gets his hands on the cup-”
Magnus stood fast and interrupted Jace with a finger lifted to his face. “We know. If Valentine started creating shadowhunters or gained control of demons, it’d be like Beyoncé riding on a dinosaur through Times Square.” He’d circled Clary to assert his point, continuing, “people would notice.”
“But he can control demons. I’ve seen it.”
“Mmm, paying off a few demons is easy, especially since they rarely survive long enough to collect.”
“Still waiting on Valentine’s thank-you card,” Jace joked. Clary and Eljah smiled in response.
“Opening the gates of Hell… that’s a little more tricky,” Magnus continued.
Luke chose this moment to walk in, saying, “Valentine doesn’t have the cards,” startling Eljah, whose hand slipped on the velvet material as he jumped up from his position on the couch. He tried to play it off, but Luke and Clary noticed. He felt embarrassed.
“I do. They’re in my desk back at the precinct. When Clary went missing, I went to the loft, and I cleared everything out ‘cause I didn’t want the Circle to track her.” Magnus didn’t look satisfied, though.
“That’s great! This should be easy,” Clary relaxed.
“Hmm, that’s what General Custer said,” Magnus countered as he sat in a comfy chair. He crossed his legs, and Eljah would be lying if he said he didn’t sit pretty.
“Magnus is right. Valentine has spies everywhere, even in the NYPD. We have to be discreet,” Luke explained.
“Discreet? You look like something out of The Mummy movie.” She made Magnus and Eljah chuckle, the two looking at each other as if sharing their thoughts.
“We’ll go in the morning. Werewolf healing, remember? This is nothing a couple of hours of beauty sleep can’t fix.”
And with shared looks of confirmation, the group dispersed.
Alec leaned over the couch Luke had occupied, who was now in one of the luxurious red patterned beds Magnus had, resting with double the bandages as before, scrubbing the fabric. Magnus joked he had magic for the stains while pouring himself another drink. Eljah thought he’d gone unnoticed.
“I think you’ve exerted yourself enough for one day,” Alec reasoned. Eljah enjoyed the sight for a couple seconds more, Magnus in his red and gold shirt and Alec in a figure-defining black short-sleeve shirt. He took his chance to start backing out, resting a hand on the edge of the door.
“You aren’t thinking of running out on us… are you?” Magnus picked on as Eljah froze, facing away from them, with wide eyes. “Stay. I owe you dinner and a drink. Both of you.” Magnus grasped Eljah by the shoulder and dragged him back to the living room, handing him a sangria and passing a margarita to Alec. He flared some blue magic and the drink lit on fire.
“High quality bar service around here, huh?” He giggled, taking the fattest sip of the sangria that he could.
“For you both, yes. To us,” he raised his glass, clinking both of ours. Alec held it like a newborn baby, seemingly not used to alcohol. Meanwhile, Eljah was borderline chugging it comedically. He genuinely laughed as Alec cringed and struggled to keep it down.
“Why did you ask for me? Eljah was here. Hell, even Jace and Clary were both here.”
“Hmm, Jace didn’t tell you?” Alec shook his head, both Eljah and Alec following Magnus’ moving figure. “It doesn’t matter. It was a lie anyway.” Alec’s head shot over to Eljah, who tightened his lips and stifled a giggle.
“Are warlocks always this cryptic?” Alec asked curiously, and it made Magnus chuckle.
“I’m not being cryptic… I’m being coy.” He sighed out, frustrated by the lack of understanding from Alec. He flicked his eyes over to Eljah, who really was tiny compared to the two, before saying, “let me spell it out for you… both of you. I wanted to see you again.” Eljah paused rubbing his right eye out of exhaustion to stare at Magnus in shock.
“Why?” Alec asked sheepishly, habitually checking for Eljah behind him. The smaller man was blushing like a lunatic and low-key hiding himself behind Alexander.
“Why’d you come?” Magnus asked, peeking behind Alec at Eljah’s timid form.
“I’m not sure…”
Magnus’ eyes changed emotion. “For almost a century… I’ve closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone. Man or woman.” Alec looked like he could’ve devoured Magnus right there, but he was new to this. You two have… unlocked something in me.” The tension was rising in the room, cut by Alec’s phone. He picked it up all too quick, struggling to keep the phone upright and bring it to his ear.
Eljah was intimidated to think someone would hold an interest for him. He was so boring! Most of the time, he rotted in his bed at the DuMort (which was technically impossible, immortality and all). His fingernails captured his attention, picking at the remnants of old black nail polish. Magnus rested his hand upon him, stopping the motions.
“Breathe.”
Just like that, his chest released all the air it had been holding, eyes opening wider and eyebrows pulling together at the effect Magnus had on him. Most people couldn’t get in the way of his anxiety, centuries’ worth of it having grown. Magnus sipped his drink, peering down at Eljah past the edge of the glass. Turning to face Alec, he realized the call meant a saddened departure.
“Oh, the furrowed brow… Maryse must be recruiting you for something… unseemly.”
“Listen, Magnus, I… I wish I could… I just- I don’t know what-” Magnus placed a single finger against Alec’s lips and hushed him.
“I understand,” he answered honorably. Alec smiled at the action, clearly infatuated. Magnus stepped out to acknowledge both men around him. “Stay for one more drink? And then decide. Hm?”
The sound of bickering awoke Eljah, sunlight dripping onto his face like a hot shower through the open windows.
“I should have never taken you up on your offer for drinks,” Alec scolded.
“In hindsight, liquor might have been a bad idea,” pausing for effect, “after being drained of all my magic to heal your friend Luke…” Magnus countered with emphasis on the role he played last night.
“Not my friend. He’s Clary Fairchild’s. I’ve only known her five days, and she’s already more trouble than she’s worth.” When Alec saw Eljah’s sleepy form rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes, he looked guilty, regretting raising his voice above a whisper. Magnus hadn’t noticed yet, his back to the other warlock.
“You’re more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?” He’d hurried to pull his jacket on but stopped to turn and look at Magnus, standing in the middle of the living room.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alec dove further into his offended tone, which was out of place and inappropriate, considering no one was offending him.
“You shared your strength with me to help your friend. It’s rare to find a shadowhunter with such an… open heart.”
“I trust you… I don’t know why, but I do.” Alec admitted sheepishly before moving topics with a sigh. “What time is it? I have to get back to the Institute.” Alec was in a rush, like usual. Magnus was desperate for more time with the two, assured that Eljah would leave when he realized Alec was gone, still unaware he watched silently like a cat on a windowsill.
“Stay for breakfast! I conjure up a mean Belgian waffle.” Eljah’s stomach growled. Magnus turned and told him good morning with a quick bow, returning his attention to Alec.
“No. If you let anyone know that I slept here last night…” Alec threatened, making Eljah more concerned. He’d stood and stretched the muscles in his body, Alec glancing at the sliver of stomach that showed when his shirt rose. It made him blush further.
“Relax,” Magnus scorned, “my reputation’s on the line just as much as yours. I’d lose all my credibility if my people found out I let a shadowhunter spend the night.”
“Then why’d you let me and Eljah sleep here?” Magnus paused, looking like he had to reach forward to grapple his sentences together through his thought process.
“Trust makes you do strange things…” He inhaled oxygen, saying, “must be something in the air,” with a smile still gracing his face despite Alec’s rejection. Alec had a hint of a smirk, but it washed away as fast as it had brightened his features, clearing his throat.
“Eljah, we could use you at the Institute. Come by later or… don’t, I don’t care,” shrugging his jacket back into place and virtually sprinting out the door.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 7: Trouble In Paradise
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It hadn’t been more than an hour since Magnus and Alec laid Eljah (unwillingly) to rest on the couch before Magnus had more visitors. Alec received a text from Isabelle regarding an injured werewolf in need of help, who was to be the new alpha of the New York wolf pack. He was someone important to Clary, and Magnus was quite fond of her, accepting immediately.
When Eljah awoke, the tall brunette was nowhere to be found. Magnus was ushering him to the bedroom so he could rest more. He offered solaces for having to wake him, but Eljah was determined to pretend nothing had happened. He washed his hands and tied his hair back messily to prepare to help the older warlock, who persisted until the minute the group arrived.
“What happened?” Magnus swung open the extravagant doors, the werewolf groaning as he loosely held consciousness.
“He was attacked!” Simon, the familiar man yelped.
“He needs a warlock! He needs you.” Clary added. The black man, being assisted to the couch Eljah had become familiar with, had gashes down his chest leading to his abdomen. The blood was thick red and mixed with the sweat covering his skin. The smells blended uncomfortably within the suite, the werewolf’s citrus scent combining with Magnus’ and his own bodily fluids.
The head warlock ordered, “put him down here,” as he laid a white sheet on his, no doubt, expensive and/or antique furniture. The man was muttering random names and things Eljah could barely catch on to. Clary shushed him lovingly, but she couldn’t stop the inevitably growing pains.
Where are you? Where are you!?
Clary spoke his name—Luke—and Eljah genuinely debated looking into Luke’s mind to see if he could calm him.
“Luke, it’s Clary. Can you hear me?”
“Clary, listen to me. Listen… you have to listen to me. I just have to tell you, just in case-”
“No, don’t even say it, don’t!” Clary pleaded.
“No, listen to me-” the conversation droned on in the back of Eljah’s mind, Magnus and Simon saying something. Luke sounded a lot like Eljah’s Papá did a little over a century ago; lost in a haze, thoughts on loop like a broken record, and emotions on high. Eljah didn’t know how to use his energy back then, but he could now.
As Luke roared out, body raising and tense, Eljah closed his eyes and focused on the wound. The yelling was background noise and Eljah wasn’t afraid of getting bitten, resting his hands on Luke’s temple and forcing him quiet. The others went silent in shock.
“Eljah, it’s not safe to do this right now.”
“You do your part, I’ll do mine,” he said, harsher than he meant to. Magnus ran off without further hinderance.
“I thought you were a shadowhunter,” Clary innocently asked in a flurry.
“I am,” he answered truthfully, now that Magnus wasn’t around. Clary accepted it must’ve been an advanced shadowhunter ability and Eljah was thankful. “Look, he’s calm for now, but when the next transformation starts, I don’t think I can hold it off. Keep working.”
Magnus was a true yapper, even more when stressed. He almost floated around the entire apartment, and when Jace came in with a bloody nose, Magnus only stopped for a second to inquire, “what happened to you?” Before leaping off to the next ingredient.
“Luke’s car may have… found its way into a pole while I was stashing it. I don’t do mundane driving.”
“Yeah, apparently,” Simon teased. It made Eljah chuckle softly from his spot, now sitting across from the unconscious werewolf, bandaged and sedated.
“What do you need for the antidote?” Jace continued after judging Simon’s scrawny arm wrapped around Clary’s shoulders.
“Hey, I got this!” Simon stopped the shadowhunter. Magnus yelled out the ingredients: phoenix eyes, moon salt, and Idris fulgurite. Simon claimed it would be a “trip to the pharmacy” and Eljah wished it were that simple. Magnus didn’t care who went to retrieve the ingredients, as long as they could wait to kill each other until afterwards.
“One more thing! I need Alexander.”
“Uh, why do you need Alec?”
“… Virgin shadowhunter energy.” Eljah could’ve covered that just fine, but this didn’t seem like the time to put himself forward again (and while he lacked experience, he wasn’t a virgin either).
“That explains so much,” Simon mumbled. Eljah got up, following Magnus around.
“Uh, yeah, Alec… I can’t.”
“What are you doing? If you need more energy, I’m here,” Eljah maintained.
“Jace, just ask. Please! You guys need to talk,” Clary fiercely pushed. Said shadowhunter didn’t seem keen but exhaled, agreeing.
“No. Go rest your pretty little head somewhere or help stir this potion. You’re too generous with your energy and you will get hurt.” The smaller boy just mumbled in response, hot on the warlock’s tail.
“Trouble in paradise?” Magnus taunted Jace as he passed him, never a moment missed by him. Eljah jabbed his arm for his lack of manners, but Magnus only stuck out his tongue.
Luke had awoken again for a short period before Magnus steadied him once more. There was something Luke was adamant Clary learn, and it seemed Magnus had the answer.
“Tell me what? What’s so important that Luke risked his life?”
“Everything Jocelyn hoped to hide from you.” Magnus snapped his fingers and a sketchbook alongside charcoal appeared on the glass table Clary stood in front of.
“When you were younger, I’d watch you sketching. It was your bliss.” He stirred the pot, adding emphasis to his words. “You’re gonna need some bliss now.”
The story of the uprising has become well known, even though the Clave tried to conceal any evidence of Valentine and his influence. Eljah was back in the Bahamas, and even at such a great distance, he knew what happened.
“When I first heard about your father, around the time he and Jocelyn first got together, long before the Uprising and the Circle, Valentine elevated the Morgenstern name to be synonymous with virtue. And your mother was at his side… but by the time my people came to know him, barely two years later… his name had become synonymous with devastation.”
Clary herself looked devastated, but not surprised. “Your mother told me it was then she first saw the signs. They never found all the bodies. We’d all stood with the Clave for centuries.”
“How could that not matter to him?”
“He was obsessed with ensuring purity of blood, convinced that the impurities were a threat to peace.” Magnus looked as if he could gag on his words.
“He was the threat to peace,” Clary hissed.
“Mad men rarely make sense… they just hate to hate,” Eljah distractedly spoke up for the first time in a while.
“And he hated downworlders for the gifts that we possess that he could not have. He hates us enough to kill us all.” This was the most malicious Magnus had sounded since meeting Eljah, face telling the story of a thousand traumas. The alcohol he’d been downing wasn’t calming him, either. Eljah was content with placing a hand on his shoulder, Magnus placing his free hand over his in return.
Clary had finished her gruesome drawing depicting an impaled downworlder, shaking both Magnus and Eljah to their cores upon viewing. It was a massive part of a downworlder’s existence to accept tragedy and wrongdoing, but especially at the hands of shadowhunters, who either seemed insensitive to their struggles or all too sensitive (meaning they’ve had the luxury of not witnessing such grim acts).
“Ever since my mother was kidnapped, and the Shadow World invaded my life, so many downworlders have helped me. Not even thinking about what it might cost them! How could Valentine not see good in any of them?”
“He was blinded by his ambition…”
“Why didn’t the Clave stop him?”
“The Clave is a joke. They’ve had secret agendas for a long time, longer than you or I have existed.” Eljah’s nose twitched with the memories of what his childhood could’ve been if it hadn’t been for the Clave.
“And he was clever. He and his followers they managed to convince the Clave that the downworlders they killed on their special missions had violated the Accords in some way. Complete fabrications!” He slammed his drink down in anger, Eljah jolting in shock, still standing behind him.
Innocent as always, Clary asked such an obvious question, “How could the Clave not see??“ but both Magnus and Elijah were rightfully riled up, and their emotions intensified by the reminder of the Clave’s incompetence.
“Shadowhunters believe in the law as absolute. They could never conceive of one of their own going astray.” Clary laughed humorlessly at his depiction of her kind.
“My father didn’t go astray, Magnus. He went insane.”
“What happened back then is happening again. The Clave refuses to believe that Valentine’s a threat. Nineteen years ago, their lack of vision allowed the circle to almost decimate the entire Shadow World.”
“That was the Uprising?”
“Yes. Valentine wanted to create a new Shadowhunter army, and for that, he needed the Mortal Cup. He knew it would be on display at the signing of the Accords as a show of the Clave’s power. He seized the opportunity to accomplish everything he ever wanted: Destroy the Accords, murder downworlders, and secure the Cup.”
There was no further time for an existential crisis or debating her mother and Luke’s intentions while they were Circle members. Luke was on his last leg, his healing officially ceased and awareness thinning with the amount of pain he was in.
Magnus flashed his magic, the power surging through Luke as his body curled. Alec was nowhere to be found. Eljah trusted Magnus, but not his body’s ability to hold out on the shadowhunter’s arrival. He was tired of relying on them despite the short time knowing them. The perk of little to no people in your circles means you can only rely on yourself—the most reliable!
He should be grateful to the warriors, but Magnus was beginning to sweat and looked no better than Luke, as his magic was running out. Eljah continued mixing the potion frantically, barely noticing Alec run past him straight to the kneeling warlock. He’d caught him before he could fall, supporting him like Eljah earlier in the day.
Magnus was gasping for air, panting as he said, “help me. I need your strength.” They stayed close, taking in the energy of one another. Eljah watching them merge into murky red and a gray so dark it became black. It felt like he wasn’t meant to watch, so he turned away.
“Take as much as you need,” Alec huffed. His hand grabbed Magnus’ and the two launched themselves back into position.
“Clary!” Jace yelled out as he and Simon finally made their entrance, tossing the final ingredient to Clary and completing the potion. She mixed it as fast as possible and hurled herself across the room to Luke, saving him just in time.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Chapter 6: Park Slope
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Eljah’s phone woke him up around noon—too early. Being angry so fresh into consciousness was not the move.
“Rafa, I swear to the God that’s forsaken us, I will throw you into the first patch of sunlight I see. I was out late last night. I need-”
“This is actually Magnus.” Giggles were heard, the warlock’s amusement on display. In hindsight, it was too early for Raphael to be awake either. Who else could it have been?
“Oh, shit,” he groaned, stuffing his face into the neighboring pillow.
“It’s alright, dove. Maybe I should’ve let you get more sleep before I called.” Eljah murmured, flipping his entire body over and rubbing his nose bridge with his fingers.
“No, you’re fine, Magnus. What did you need help with?” He lifted himself up, discomforted by feeling the blood rush through his body and exhaustion present from last night that he hadn’t acknowledged before going to sleep. After throwing off his blanket, he went looking for the stele he assumed was still in his clothing.
“Who says I need help with anything? I can’t just want to call you?” Magnus sounded almost flirty.
Eljah wished he had another answer. He hadn’t made connections for almost five decades, or at least not any that weren’t business-only. It’s embarrassing to tell such a recognizable warlock that you’re a loser.
“Nobody besides Rafa calls me for anything besides assistance, to be honest.”
“That’s unfortunate. I’ll have to fix that.” If Eljah hadn’t muted himself, Magnus could’ve heard the strangled scream he held back. “If you’d like me to, of course.”
“Uh, cool, cool,” his subconscious screamed shut the fuck up, Eljah, “yeah, that would be… nice?”
“I’m glad. I do have a proposition for you, though. Would you be interested in having drinks later? I’ve asked Alexander, but he seems too busy. Said he’ll join us some other time.”
“Oh, I’m the backup, huh?” Eljah feigned humor, rather disappointed in reality. Magnus and Alec were both attractive men, and while Alec had confusing vibes around sexuality, Eljah was sure they’d work around it. He let his enthusiasm get the better of him and felt disheartened yet again. But Magnus didn’t give him time to overthink any more.
“You were never the backup, darling. I wanted to invite you both out.” Oh.
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh! That’s… sweet of you, really.” He could hear Magnus’ hushed laughing again, Eljah’s unease growing. Out of habit, he swiped the outgrown hair behind his ear, jolting at the heat in his cheeks. He felt dumber as the call carried on.
“I’ll buy you dinner. How’s 7:00?”
Eljah cleared his throat and kicked his hanging feet back and forth off the bed. “I’d love that. I have to shower, so I’ll talk to you later.”
The last thing Magnus said was, “think of me fondly,” before hanging up.
Eljah’s body screenshotted itself with the effort to not squeal. A couple of books on his corner shelf sprawled across the floor and the curtains blew open comedically. That wasn’t a very calm and detached reaction, and he was incredibly grateful for the privacy of his room.
Investing time to take walks for his “mental health” was Eljah’s new hobby. Exploring random parts of Manhattan and Brooklyn combined, no matter the distance, he walked until he couldn’t anymore. Anyone else would have viewed this as self-punishment. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Eljah just let his body take control so his mind wouldn’t.
Eljah overused his endurance rune to the point Raphael told him it was abuse. It was easy to push himself beyond his limits and erase it with a swipe of his stele, just to progress further into a shutdown. He wasn’t used to having someone keep him in check, offer help, or care.
Raphael had begun calling once the vampire realized he’d left the DuMort with no destination in mind (again). It’s like he’d developed a sense for Eljah’s exact location, always knowing when he took off.
Eljah didn’t feel like picking up, burrowed in the depths of his brain and debating whether he was worth Magnus’ time, or anyone’s, for that matter. He always had amazing days followed by harrowing nights, or months without an episode, followed by lockdowns in the DuMort. The seesaw of emotions felt unbecoming and burdensome, which only added onto the weight his shoulders bore constantly.
Eljah had maintained composure and stability throughout the preceding hours he roamed, but the stress seized him upon conveniently passing an alley of lofts. He trudged over and plopped onto the nearby stairs, breath pulling away from him as stars swirled in his vision.
He could hear mumbles of angry conversation close by, but he couldn’t focus as he fumbled through his pockets looking for his stele. It wasn’t in his sweatpants pockets or hidden within his shoe. The yelling changed direction.
Eljah assumed his dizziness was only fatigue from wandering, but as his gaze blurred, pools of silver washed over his eyes and the muscles in his neck tensed.
It always felt gross, viscous, and seizing when he got visions and more so when he hadn’t received them for a time. His last was on the anniversary of his father’s death. It happened in a Brooklyn club, just outside of East Harlem, where the Hotel DuMort resided. He couldn’t remember the name, nor did he care, busy rolling a joint in the bathroom (not his finest or most hygienic move).
His head had shot up like usual, body lax against the folded toilet seat and unmoving like an exorcism (or so he’d heard). He saw nothing at first, random shapes, colors, and static taking peculiar forms behind his eyelids. And then altogether he saw bright lights and felt a heavy heartbeat.
He was in the body of a teenage boy, walking down a familiar road lined with dark alleys and aimlessly placed restaurants. He saw the key-shaped sign with yellow lettering, shaded but readable. That, alongside the iconic and recognizable “R” painted on the sign, informed him this young boy was outside Hotel DuMort. He seemed wobbly and all-too-giggly, which might’ve been fine if he wasn’t so young and completely alone.
He could sense danger nearby, auras packed like sardines in the distance; vampires waiting for an unsuspecting snack. Everyone needed to eat, or in their case, feed, but this innocent boy wouldn’t become dinner if Eljah could help it.
This would be one of the few times he fought with his fellow residents. He understood their needs, their situation. But the undead morals often needed checked.
His body released, muscles and jaw unclenching with the rush of energy leaving fast enough it made his head spin. Trying hard to move his limbs despite their resistance, he stumbled forward, catching on the stall door and snatching it open. He could save this kid if he just pushed forward. He snapped his fingers repeatedly as he faced the tiled wall, trying to spark his magic and watching the portal form and dispel again. His hands were icy, but the magic was heating him up.
He feared when he got the portal open that he’d been too late. His visions rotated between the past, present, and future at random. He shot out with newfound energy as he exited the portal and flexed his hands forward to release a burst of power. The group of vampires were like mosquitoes in summer, rushing at the dazed young boy. Eljah’s burst sent them stumbling back and cowering like the young boy they’d attempted to catch until they realized who he was.
“This is a child! How could you!?” Eljah shouted fiercely. He was beyond angry at their lack of compassion for a human at the dawn of their life.
“We could smell him. He shouldn’t have walked down our alley,” a random vamp Eljah couldn’t remember the name of spoke up.
“So according to your logic, your brothers and sisters should get executed for innocently walking past the Institute’s steps?” Referencing their mortal enemy only annoyed the other, small party more.
“Who cares?”
“You should,” Raphael startled the crowd and Eljah, vamps backing away to huddle near the DuMort entrance. With his usual rasp and lack of emotion, he reminded, “this is a mundane, you can’t hunt them for fun. If you break the accords and hurt a human, that provokes execution by the Clave.” Raphael flicked his eyes over to meet Eljah’s, who had hints of silver lining the veins of his eyes, sporting his dominant emotion like a stroke of paint and mirroring his natural hair.
Eljah felt guilty, despite having nothing to do with the situation. “Fix this,” he whispered desperately at Raphael’s side. The other shared the same sentiments, but avoided eye contact because of the mess his kin made.
The young boy was breathing sporadically, pure terror illustrated on his face. His glasses made him look even younger, breaking Eljah’s heart more. When Raphael approached him, the teenager backed himself against the wall.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” hands up in submission. “What’s your name?”
“S… Simon. It’s Simon. What the hell are you people!?”
“It’s okay, Simon. My people made a mistake. They didn’t mean to hurt you.” Raphael made his body level with the young boy. His eyes gazed into Simon’s and formed a connection. Encanto is what it was called. A vampire’s ability to attach and command another being’s mind. He was using Encanto to ensure Simon wouldn’t remember this and possibly blab to the whole of New York that vampires and warlocks existed (Eljah liked to pretend he was doing it for Simon’s well-being and sanity).
They’d flocked the den members back into the hotel and placed Simon outside the alleyway. Raphael and Eljah waited just inside the darkness for confirmation of the mundane’s condition. Simon woke up and stretched as if he’d just risen out of bed, adorable in Eljah’s eyes. Two women called out from afar, Simon giggling while hailing them. He’d successfully made it out safely, thanks to Raphael and Eljah.
Although Eljah was physically on the stairs in the middle of Park Slope, Brooklyn, he mentally found himself locked in a storage room, faded blue lockers lining one wall and frantic scratches clawed into another. The body seemed familiar energetically, wildly pacing between thin red bars and the previous surfaces with a phone raised high. They were attempting to call someone and when the line picked up they exclaimed, “Oh, I thought I’d never utter these words, but thank God it’s you! It’s me, Simon.”
Well… how many Simons do you think live in New York?
“Where are you? Where’s Clary?” The audio was mush to Eljah, but the names and voices were familiar enough to fill in the missing details.
“I don’t know. Some Chinese restaurant, I think?” He stuttered as he tried to explain, frustrating Eljah as he spent more time panicking than looking for clues as to his whereabouts. “This cop Alaric arrested us, but it was a total fake-out! Him and his buddy, they took us- They took us to their hangout and then they told Clary that they’ll kill her if they don’t find the Cup!”
“Just calm down, all right? Tell us what you see!” Simon acknowledged and rushed to the only window near him, jumping on a surface to gaze at a pier below, passing the information on to the caller.
“There’s a ton of water. Uh… I see lockers and…” startling when he found the deep claw marks embedded into the grain of the walls. “I’m in some sort of torture chamber! There are claw marks all over the walls!”
Mumbles sounded over the phone before someone said, “okay, Simon. You need to get more specific. Tell us what you see. Help us find you.”
Simon was growing angry and his aura was bursting into flames of red and gray reminiscent of Eljah’s hair strands. “There’s nothing else that can help—Wait! Hold on, hold on!” Calming substantially as he uncovered stacks of paper in a locker.
Eljah could see the Jade Wolf Chinese Restaurant logo in the middle of an old cocktail guide, vision fading now that’d seen what he needed to, alongside his strength. He was crawling out of his skin, trying to get out of the vision that was no longer of quality. He gasped for air, unknowingly notifying one of the very callers Simon was contacting.
Isabelle heard the gasps and cries, hair flocking to her back as she flipped around. Jace was finishing his call with Simon, saying, “we’re on our way.” As desperate as Izzy was to collect her newfound friends, a stranger in need also warranted help.
“Guys, something’s wrong. Do you hear that??” She brought attention to the croaks outside the alleyway. She took off, Jace and Alec desperately chasing after her after sharing an eye roll. When breaching the corner, Izzy did not expect to see Eljah seized up on the concrete stairs, but as she did, she cried out for him.
“Eljah? Eljah, what’s wrong?” She felt his forehead and neck before turning his head lightly, anything to diagnose his fit. Jace and Alec stood with drawn eyebrows and unintentionally flared noses. Izzy’s alarm grew as she pushed his hair out of the way and stared into his silver eyes.
“I’ve never seen something like this. Someone help me, I don’t know what to do!” Isabelle shouted. Both men rushed forward to help with Jace flocking to his back to support his head and Alec replacing Izzy in front of him.
Eljah genuinely believed he’d activated his luck rune at some point today, because the very shadowhunters supporting his body now was a one in a million blessing. Most notably, Alec was brushing the hair back off Eljah’s face, whispering his name repeatedly. It sounded heavenly coming from Alec’s mouth. He never particularly liked his name, but it sounded beautiful when Alec said it.
“Hey, hey,” he comforted, “what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Do we need to get Magnus?” Isabelle asked. Eljah shook his head harshly, catching his breath now that his muscles were releasing. His head dropped forward and the silver clouds dispersed.
Stele.
Stele.
Stele.
He kept trying, forming the words, but unsure if they came out right.
“Where’s your healing rune?” Alec pressed on, understanding the mumbles between sputtering coughs. Eljah rolled up his left sleeve and extended his arm. Alec rested a firm hand on the man’s right shoulder as he activated the rune that burned as usual. “I got him, guys. Go get Simon and Clary.” He ordered. It was getting dark and Eljah already felt overexposed like an old polaroid, thankful Alec was staying.
All shadowhunters smelled like hints of sunlight to Eljah, but Alec had a touch of the freshest linen and a basic cologne. It stabilized him further as the healing kicked in. The other two shadowhunters ran off together, Eljah wondering how Isabelle could move so fast in heels.
“You should go with them,” Eljah told Alec. “I don’t know how far the restaurant is, and Clary and Simon are more important than me.” Alec looked puzzled and froze.
“How did you know that? Eljah, how did you know where they were?”
“Heard you… from over here.” He lied poorly. “Endurance is on my lower back. Pass your stele, please.” Trying to maintain composure despite embarrassing himself. Alec conceded and huffed, retrieving his phone from his commonly worn jacket and subduing the stele into the outstretched hand. Endurance didn’t sting like Iratze did, and Eljah surrendered his body to lie back on the stairs.
“I’m calling Magnus.” At the sound of ringing, Eljah shot up, forgetting how to act and reaching for the phone. Alec was faster. Much faster.
“No! We have plans later. I don’t want to ruin them…” Alec looked considerate but didn’t respond.
“Magnus. I need your help.”
“What’s wrong, Alexander?”
“I don’t really know. Eljah collapsed and was seizing. I just- are you home?” Alec guided Eljah back down without looking by the hand still connecting to his shoulder.
“Send me your location. I’ll portal as close as I can.”
Alec said nothing more, and the two ended the call. Beeps sounded from the phone and Alec sighed once again. Eljah was staring up at him, unsure of what to do, and Alec shared the same sentiment as he looked down. Time passed before Alec realized he was still holding onto the smaller man and it was like he’d touched sunlit metal with how fast he pulled back. He mumbled sorry before moving to sit further away. Disappointment filled Eljah, and the two waited together for Magnus’ arrival.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
Multiple uploads coming your way! (Borderline spam cause I've been WORKING HARD).
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kat-is-laem-oa · 4 months ago
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Nina: How long did Kaz ground you two for?
Jesper: Two weeks.
Y/N: 'One per idiot.'
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Incorrect Quotes: Arkosios Edition (Unsupervised)
Eljah: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Alec: Wasn't Magnus with you?? Magnus: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Incorrect Quotes: Arkosios Edition, Masterlist
Cover Blown ✮ | Unsupervised ✮ | Next IQ ✮
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Incorrect Quotes: Arkosios Edition (Cover Blown)
Magnus: I’m in love with you. Eljah: We blew our cover, Magnus, you don't have to keep it up. Magnus: I know. Eljah: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Chapter 5 (Mini/Bonus): Brujo Atractivo
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Jace had awoken with sputtering coughs and terror, assuring the others he was alright, albeit weakly. Magnus’ eyes stayed on Alec, suspicion hidden in his expression. It appeared one of his theories was confirmed.
Alec looked heartbroken and disappointed, even more so when Magnus whispered, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, Alec.” He didn’t give Magnus but a second before saying he didn’t know what he was talking about.
“You will.” Turning to Eljah, he softly beckoned him with his pointer finger before exiting to the living room. Before he followed Magnus, he stopped at Alec’s side. Eljah wasn’t good at being comforting, considering he often needed the comfort, but he rested a hand on the taller man’s shoulders. His goal was to physically console Alec, but also release calming energy to him so he might cope easier.
Magnus flung to one of his couches, exhaling densely. “A warlock’s work is never done, is it?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not exactly a warlock-for-hire,” whispering the warlock bit. The others were still in the side rooms, Jace and Clary joking around about their “save counts,” so there was really no point in whispering.
“I’d be happy to compensate you for your help tonight.” Magnus leaned forward, directing Eljah to sit on the couch next to him. Eljah obediently sat but stayed stiff.
“I can’t imagine the DuMort is very comfortable. I’d be overjoyed to let you stay here if desired.” Eljah turned his head like a puppy, confused about how Magnus knew of his whereabouts.
“How did you know that?”
“I messaged Raphael as soon as I got back to my lair. Told him I’d met his charming, little friend.”
“Not little.”
“Next to me you are.” Eljah rolled his eyes firmly, well-adjusted to the short-guy-jokes he’d experienced in childhood, but they annoyed him still. It was true. Magnus towered over him much like Alec, both well above six feet.
“I’d love to get to know you better, Eljah, you fascinate me. Stay, have some drinks. I make a mean martini,” he quipped. The offer was charming, and Eljah wanted to know Magnus better as well. But it just didn’t feel right, and he was far too tired.
“I’ll have to take you up on that offer later, I promise. I think Raphael had some stuff for me to do, you know.” Eljah excused.
“Well, when you get bored with the tasks of the den, shoot me a text.” He flicked his hands up, a fire message making Eljah jump as it exploded in front of him. He giggled as he collected it, a phone number sprawled on the paper.
“We’re gonna head out,” Jace interrupted, huddled underneath Clary and Isabelle’s shoulders. Without wasting any time, Alec had packed and prepared, head down, in continued embarrassment. “Are you gonna stay at the Institute, Eljah?”
“No, I have someone I need to check in on. Thank you so much for the offer, though.”
“Anytime. You know where to find us,” Jace smiled genuinely at Eljah. Isabelle added and insisted, “don’t be a stranger. It was nice to meet you. Really.” Eljah giggled and nodded at the gorgeous woman.
“I suppose you’ll need portaling back now. Will I have more shadowhunters at my door for my hand in helping you?”
“No, no. Thank you for trying, Magnus.”
“I would say ‘anytime’, but this was a bit exhausting if we could avoid this in the future.” The room lit up with laughter, aside from Alec, and the shadowhunters walked through the portal. It closed and reopened with a new destination, Magnus offering a hand to lead Eljah over which the man timidly held.
Portaling felt like a roller coaster even after the amount of times he’d traveled within them. He gracefully walked through and allowed the magic to rush him along, envisioning Hotel DuMort.
Raphael never told him anything regarding the den’s business. He knew things went on behind his back, and while it wasn’t his business, he felt the need to protect them. Camille ran the DuMort just fine, but she was selfish and obsessed. Eljah avoided the woman at all costs, convinced she wanted to turn him into a blood bag.
It was early morning now; the vampires were settling down for their day's rest. The DuMort was never overly loud, but it seemed too quiet. He passed by a couple of den members who acknowledged him but made no sound, like they were sheepish.
The population of the hotel thought Eljah was but a misplaced warlock, as none of them could see through his glamor (which worked great until he was around other shadowhunters. Voyance rune and all). Raphael had to do extra work to keep Eljah in the DuMort after his tour of episodes. Camille was less than interested in housing him. So, as insane as she was, he had to respect her and come when called.
The last thing Eljah did before climbing into bed was messaging Raphael and Magnus, respectively. He thanked Magnus for his offer again and then asked Raphael what he was up to. The latter answered immediately, messaging:
(xxx) xxx-xxxx: It was an honor. What’s your favorite drink? I’ll have it ready next time you come over. Which is hopefully soon?”
Eljah: Of course. Let me know when you have time and I’ll see when I can visit. Also, I’ve been on a Sangria kick recently, but anything without rum will do.
(xxx) xxx-xxxx: You are Boricuas, but you don’t like rum?
Eljah: How did you know?
(xxx) xxx-xxxx: Overheard you and the other attractive brunette, apologies for snooping.
Eljah: Haha, it’s alright. Apology accepted.
Eljah felt like a giddy teenager doing an illegal activity (which teenage Eljah canonically did). He didn’t know why he was entertaining Magnus, but it felt good. He was also convinced that Magnus called both Alec and him attractive. Which is why his contact name came to Eljah easily.
Brujo Atractivo: Get some sleep, gorgeous. We’ve all had a night. Thank you again for your help.
Eljah: Goodnight.
Brujo Atractivo: Goodnight.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
First mini chapter! I probably should've merged this with Chapter 4, but I never know how long to make my chapters. Hope the reader is doing well! Much love! - Wren
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Chapter 4: Velvet Couches and Demon Summoning
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From afar, an assailant slashed a man down the back, resulting in his tumble to the warehouse floor. Valentine had found the lair.
“Oh, God! Valentine found Magnus!” Clary yelled. She ran forward behind the group and Eljah stayed behind her. He was sure now that she was new to the shadow world. It was uncommon to learn about your angelic lineage this late in life, but if Eljah could exist, then Clary could be a late bloomer.
Clary and Eljah fell back from the group naturally, hiding behind metal horizontal poles at the sound of a child in distress. She was shaking her deceased warlock father, telling him to wake up.
Eljah stopped dead in his tracks.
“Papá! Papá!” echoed in his head. “Papá, por favor, despierta. ¡Tengo miedo, se acercan las sombras! Papá, te amo, despierta y mantente fuerte, ¡no puedo hacerlo!” The shadows. The shadows are coming. Wake up and stand strong. I can’t do it.
Clary found her confidence creeping forward, but something else was creeping in the shadows as well. As she yelled, "Watch out!” and marched forward to defend the little girl, Eljah turned to face the growing black void from the corner. His heart thumped hard enough it shook his body, but he still couldn’t move. The girl was safe thanks to Clary pushing away one of Valentine’s men, Eljah useless as a trance state took over. The fight echoed in the background.
“Clary Fairchild. Valentine will be so pleased to meet you.”
“Thank you!”
“Any time.”
“Eljah, what happened?”
“Eljah?”
“Just keep moving,” Eljah harshly responded, stumbling up and away from his spot. He held the metal previously behind him so hard it was indented and, wiping his hands, shook off tiny bits of its coating.
Isabelle wrapped her whip up, sure to investigate later when she had time. “Stick close. It’s safest if we stay together.”
Clary affirmed to the young warlock that she wouldn’t leave her alone. It soured Eljah’s mood more. How he wished he had someone like that growing up. When things got bad, he could only turn to himself… and maybe the street cats and dogs.
The entire group convened in Magnus’ now-destroyed living room. The velvet chairs and dark furniture tipped over or split in half. Said room had filled with splayed warlock bodies, and Jace respectfully closed their eyes one by one. Alec had come across Eljah taking a breather and the two walked in together, the last of everyone living.
Magnus was busy praising Clary for her bravery and heart and Eljah slid himself between some fallen furniture. He flexed his fingers, popping them again as an unconscious comfort technique.
Magnus stepped to the middle of the room, announcing, “Hold tight, everyone. We’re about to move.” He made eye contact with Eljah for the first time since crossing paths again. He looked concerned at the younger man's body language, nodding for permission to move ahead. Eljah took a deep breath and conceded.
This time, Magnus’ magic glowed blue. He moved them in the prettiest way Eljah had seen a warlock move whilst using magic. Eljah was straight to the point, but Magnus had flair just like his closet. The energy pulsated and then passed over every corner of the room, transporting them.
“Ah, much better.” Magnus sounded relieved, but after turning around, his face changed to disgust. “Ugh! It’s inevitable. After each move, I get the itch to redecorate.” He turned to Alec and Eljah, who were next to each other, pointedly telling them, “normally, I love a dirty lair, but this one is just sloppy,” emphasizing with a stomp to the broken table in front of him. Alec’s expression turned confused and slightly worried, while Eljah found amusement in the situation. Alec abandoned station and crossed the room as if he wasn’t attracted to Magnus.
Magnus moved on rather quickly. “I believe in payment for services rendered. Thank you for defending the warlocks.” He sweetly offered the necklace they’d returned earlier, telling Isabelle some of the history of their own family and the jewelry. He joked it would look silly on her brother and Alec physically reacted, telling Eljah these were siblings. Lightwoods, to be exact.
Eljah felt a twinge of jealousy at the obvious flirting, but especially at Magnus asking if Alec was more into flowers or cologne. Eljah’s answer, personally, would have been flowers.
He couldn’t tell who he wanted to be more…
“Okay, so how do we summon the memory demon?” Clary redirected. Eljah brushed off his butt, regretting it when he realized he brushed dirt onto freshly clean flooring, checking to see if Magnus noticed.
“Are you certain?” Magnus confirmed. “Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.”
“I’ll do anything to save my mother. Where is the demon?” Clary doubled down.
“Okay. Pretty boys! Get your team ready!” pointing in Jace and Alec’s general direction.
Jace spoke up, “you all know what to do.” But Magnus stopped him in his place.
“Alec, yes… but I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to you,” he pointed to both Eljah and Alec. Alec got real cheesy at that revelation and Eljah got shy. If the others could see his aura, it was consumed by a teal color that screamed “shy.”
Magnus beckoned Clary forward, saying, “come with me.”
Magnus led Clary off into a side room, and the others stayed outside. Eljah continued popping various parts of his body, stretching like a cat.
“Where are you from?” The voice of Alec startled Eljah, which made the taller man put his hands up in surrender, mumbling sorry.
“I’m from San Juan.”
“San Juan? Puerto Rico, wow,” awkward silence made an appearance, “uh, what institute did you train at?”
“Mexico City. It was the closest.”
“Was it… pretty?” Alec, for such a big and tough-looking guy, was incredibly awkward and shy. He cutely smiled, his energy gray with muddy, dark purple. Further proof of his anxiety.
“It was one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been. Overlooked the city and you could see everything. Tomas, the… previous head of the Institute,” he paused as he remembered his late father-figure, “used to take me to visit the city markets. I miss it a lot,” Eljah admitted.
“Why’d you leave?” Eljah felt like a Seelie out of water, tempted to shrug his shoulders despite knowing Alec is smarter than that.
“Shadowhunters, gather!” Magnus summoned. Relief flowed through Eljah, secured from extra questioning.
Magnus, in more comfortable albeit still flamboyant clothing, headed the group upon entry, but remained to acknowledge Eljah with an arm around his shoulders. The height difference made Eljah shrink, but he couldn’t deny physical touch and affection was rare for him. Especially from such an attractive group of people.
“Jocelyn was right, your artistry is beyond compare,” walking himself and Eljah next to Clary. She chuckled but denied the claims. Eljah, despite knowing summoning circles, always enjoyed the deep-rooted artistic nature of them, which the redhead tuned into with a rune activation. Although he was sure she was a natural either way.
“Oh, the only other person I’ve known who could draw as well was Michelangelo… who was excellent in bed, might I add?” Looking straight at Alec. Eljah could’ve howled at the shared reactions, familiar with some historical figures himself and their… deeds.
Upon viewing this specific circle, he realized everyone had a spot except for him. Magnus caught on quickly. “Don’t worry, little dove. You are my extra protection—you can stand by me, okay?” Everyone shuffled to their places, Eljah awkward behind Magnus.
“Okay, we’re ready.” Rolling up his sleeves, he told everyone to, “take your rightful place on the pentagram.” Eljah choked back a giggle at Clary’s confusion on where to step, considering it was a foot in front of her.
“We must initiate a bond. Once this bond is sealed, it cannot be broken until the demon retreats.” Magnus became more serious. “No matter what happens, we must not let go of each other’s hands.” He outreached his jewelry-clad hand to Alec. The two jolted as a low, booming sound built the connection.
One by one, the group magnetized together with wistful looks and gasps. Eljah could feel the shadows reach its oily hand up from deep within the Earth, the energy building and suffocating the air. He constantly wanted to turn around, senses on high alert for the incoming danger.
“I will lead the ceremony, and you all must do exactly as I say. The demon’s name is Valak. And at some point, he will ask for payment in exchange for Clary’s memories.”
This worried Jace, who asked, “what do you mean? What kind of payment?”
“Unfortunately, you won’t know until he is summoned,” Eljah responded. “Just keep your hands together and take a deep breath.” After a beat of confirmation between everyone, Magnus announced they’d begin.
He strongly chanted in Chthonian, summoning Valak. Everyone looked panicked, Eljah included.
“The necklace!” Izzy called out, “it’s pulsing.” A rush of wind came through soon after, everyone looking up as thick black shadows came down upon the room. Valak growled and Eljah watched the group struggle to hold on.
“Valak is among us! Do not break the bond!” Magnus reminded. Jace called out to Clary to hold on, who affirmed she was trying. While Magnus focused ahead of him, Eljah activated the luck rune on his chest. He circled the group, making sure the lines were strong and nothing had been ruined.
“We must each relinquish a beloved memory of the one we love the most,” Magnus rushed through the hectic noise. Isabelle naturally went first. An image of her brother appeared within the smoke before harshly dispersing. Clary and Alec followed, but when Alec’s memory surfaced, his emotions shifted.
Panic. Eljah saw straight panic. He couldn’t understand why the Parabatais were confused. Parabatais often, if not always, love each other, but Alec was shouting betrayal and deception into the wind.
“It’s not true! The demon deceived me!”
“Do not break the bond!” Magnus warned.
“Alec, It’s okay!” Isabelle insisted. But the damage was done, and Alec ripped his hands away, throwing himself back. Chaos erupted as the others shouted. The black smoke dispersed and everything in the room was thrown back. Eljah, instead of rocketing into the wall, smoothly slid across the floor.
Valak’s wrath was unmatched by their fear as they saw him in full. The wind became more like a tornado and the air was scarcely fresh.
“I cannot contain the demon much longer!” Eljah felt the same level of panic as the others, uncertain whether he should assist Magnus and risk exposing himself or try to kill the greater demon.
Alec dumbly stood and made his way in front of the demon. Jace sought to push him out of the way, but in doing so, offered himself up to the demon’s grip. Clary screamed in shock and Alec huddled in the corner.
It felt like too long had passed before someone grabbed onto Jace.
“Grab him!”
“The demon is growing stronger!”
“He’s slipping!”
“Clary, Eljah, help us!” The man ran to Magnus’ side, concealed by the veil of smoke from the others, and snapped his fingers like a match. It lit up the fiery red and purple radiance of Eljah’s magic and he took a deep breath, expelling air as he pushed with all his energy to contain Valak. Keeping up his opposing facades wasn’t worth the release of a greater demon in New York.
“Clary! If you kill the demon, your memories will be lost forever!” With the last call for help by Isabelle, Clary bravely stomped her way up to Valak with her seraph blade in hand, impaling the demon still grasping Jace.
Eljah fell next to Magnus, and the others rushed to check on their blonde shadowhunter. Magnus gently raised Eljah from the ground. “It’s alright,” he whispered, “Shadowhunter business usually ends like this.” Eljah was too tired to laugh.
“Is he gonna be alright!?” Clary cried out.
“I don’t know. Does he normally just lay like that without moving?”
No one else was laughing.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Chapter 3: Adventures in Parabatai
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Eljah kept a close distance behind a dizzying Clary as she stumbled out the doors. She looked understandably sick and upset, probably uncomfortable in the revealing outfit she was in.
“Jace,” the sparkling brunette woman called out to the blonde. As the others turned around, Eljah slipped off his puffy jacket and offered it to Clary. She looked surprised and faltered further for a second, allowing it to be dropped on her shoulders. It left his arm runes exposed. If the group found Magnus, Eljah hoped he wouldn’t snitch. Opposing identities weren’t a good look.
“Clary, we have to move,” Jace sighed, almost annoyed (which peeved off more than Clary).
“I’m catching my breath!” She yelled, sliding her arms through the sleeves angrily.
“You know what? This is great,” the other unnamed brunette groaned, “and not only did Magnus not get the girl her memories back, he took the necklace. This is fantastic-”
“Alec, the girl… her name is Clary and I highly suggest you keep your voice down.”
“Why? What, are you afraid I’m gonna upset her? We have risked our lives again and again for this girl and where has it gotten us? All right? Nowhere. We’re no closer to getting the Mortal Cup and we’ve lost the Institute’s necklace.”
“Hey, I am right here!” This made Alec, the pretty boy, roll his eyes that were shooting daggers at Clary. “I don’t care about your damn jewelry. Look, I’m sorry you’re gonna look bad in front of your bosses, okay? But my mother is still missing and my last chance at finding her just disappeared into thin air!”
Eljah turned to face the wall, a headache forming as discreetly calmed the group’s energy. The yelling stressed him out (specifically male yelling), combined with the unfamiliar people surrounding him. It was worth a shot to quiet their spirits.
“Clary, it’s gonna be fine.” At the spark of Clary’s anger, he fought to push it down. His magic often felt like swimming in a body of water and pushing or using energy felt like splitting the tides and creating waves.
“No!” she shouted, before she stopped, taking a deep breath as she felt her emotions level out, “it’s not, Jace. People are dying because of me… and Magnus? Magnus will never come out of hiding again while Valentine is still after him. And I will… never get my memories back.”
“That’s not true, Clary. Don’t say that,” Eljah piped up. He walked over calmly and outstretched his hand, beckoning the button with energy beaming out of it from being previously worn by Magnus. As Clary handed it over, without looking, Eljah tossed it straight to Jace.
“You give up way too easy.”
“What is he doing?”
“He’s tracking Magnus. Be quiet and keep your distance,” Alec mumbled, tired of explaining things to Clary.
“The button belonged to Magnus. Jace can pinpoint the location using that.” He definitely could not. His aura was weak and not strong enough to track anything at the moment. Jace proved him right as he relented, saying,
“The signal’s not strong enough. Magnus must be blocking the track. Let’s do this, Alec,” ordering his friend over, albeit friend wasn’t the right word.
“Do what?” Clary asked curiously.
“Parabatai tracking,” the unnamed woman and Eljah spoke at the same time. It made her giggle, presenting a hand for Eljah to shake. “And what is your name?” Eljah, the gentleman he was, extended a hand and bowed.
“Eljah. I’m New to New York.”
“What an introduction,” Clary joked. “I’m Clary, this is Isabelle.” The three smiled brightly at each other despite the serious, brooding bromance happening not five feet from them.
“This is a good lesson, Fairchild. When Parabatais track their power grows stronger. Together,” Eljah backed up again to give Clary viewing space.
“Jace and Alec are gonna track Magnus together,” Isabelle added. Now that everyone had names connected to their faces, Eljah could envision them as people. Previously, Isabelle and Clary never dropped their serious tones. Now he could see them giggling together in between training sessions or as students in their own rights. Jace and Alec were most likely always stoic and guarded, like himself. They seemed to be the oldest amongst the group with how many responsibilities they took on. Viewing them in that light made their moods more digestible.
Watching Parabatai’s souls connect was an indescribable scene. To start off, Jace was a painting of red and orange, dots of black like ink on a page. It told Eljah that Jace was bold. He was confident and passionate—his resting aura.
Alec was green, indigo, and white. He held feelings of low self-worth, envy, and severe jealousy. And while he was brave and fearless like Jace, he was angry and mistrusting, likely from the presence of Clary. The opposites completed each other, and Eljah could have clocked them as Parabatai earlier had the situation been calmer.
Combined, they created a rainbow of emotion and history, telling many stories in one picture.
“This whole Parabatai thing seems oddly intimate, if you ask me,” Clary spoke honestly. Izzy shook her head, telling Clary she didn’t know the half of it.
Jace broke free of the soul bond, relieved to tell the others they found him. Alec looked like a lost puppy following the retreating figure of his Parabatai. Eljah knew he could have helped over thirty minutes ago, but he didn’t know these people. He loved helping others, especially in need, but this situation was bigger than him.
Isabelle placed an arm in front of Eljah before the group descended into Magnus’ lair. They were the same height, so her arm hit his stomach dead-on. She pulled a standardized seraph blade off of Alec’s back, offering it to Eljah as she asked, “do you have a weapon on you?”
He did not have one on him, which tempted him to take the blade. But weapons looked different in his hands—glowed a distinct purple, compared to the angelic, bare white color that’s the norm. He had a ring that could channel his magic, so hand-to-hand combat was his only solution. He told Isabelle he had it covered, and she nodded her head, passing it back to Alec.
“Magnus’ lair is right behind that fence,” Jace informed.
“Magnus lives in a warehouse?” Clary asked.
“Not exactly. Warlock glamor.” The spike in emotion anytime these shadowhunters mentioned warlocks kept Eljah on his toe. He realized at any moment these people, as kind and well-intentioned as they seemed, could turn on him.
Isabelle exclaimed, “something’s wrong… It’s far too easy to get this close…”
“His protective wards must be down,” Jace added.
“You,” Alec singled out Clary, “don’t get in the way.” Alec didn’t bat an eye Eljah’s way, but he knew that meant him too.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
I realize my writing is not the best and I feel the cringe deep within my bones when something doesn't sound right, so I'm really hoping everything has been alright so far. Thank you so much for reading, much love! - Wren
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kat-is-laem-oa · 5 months ago
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Chapter 2: Jewel
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“You are more than welcome to sit beside me if you want, little one.”
“I’m not little, bichote big shot.” They’d just walked through the door, and Eljah was focusing on what the bar had to offer.
“Standing next to me you are… I’m now realizing I never caught your name. I’m Magnus Bane.”
“Magnus Bane?… shit.”
“You’ve heard of me?” He wanted to say how could I not? You’re essentially my best friend’s adoptive father and I find you attractive, but that was over sharing.
“Through a friend.”
“I might just know this friend. Care to share?” The much younger warlock cracked each of his fingers one by one and turned his rings habitually.
“Raphael.”
“Raphael?” he repeated in surprise. “Wow, small world. I didn’t know he had many out-of-town friends.”
“I would’ve come with him, but he had business to attend to, wouldn’t tell me what.”
“Your name?”
“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you.”
After introducing himself over a couple shots of whiskey, Eljah’s head was spinning to the point he had to let it flop back to stabilize the vibrating under his skin. He was sitting on a couch near the bar and he had sunk into it upon contact. His hearing was intact but his focus was not, weaving between the fellow warlock, the music, and the people dancing on the floor.
It was clear Magnus intended to learn more about Eljah. But Eljah didn’t want to be rude. This was the high warlock of Brooklyn. Eljah hadn’t traveled all the way here to upset anyone.
“I’m not much of a conversationalist.”
“No worries. I’m sure we have enough history combined to entertain ourselves. I have plenty of time before my meeting.”
“You’re meeting someone? In a club?”
Magnus chuckled after placing his drink on the silver table in front of him. “Some Shadowhunters is all.” He didn’t notice the immediate discomfort of his new friend, so he continued, “they’re offering a necklace that has been precious to me for centuries for my services.”
“Shadowhunters?” Eljah’s arms stretched to meet the corner of the couch and he turned to survey the club for said shadowhunters. Magnus’ eyebrows drew together as he observed Eljah.
“Not friendly with them, either?” Magnus asked curiously.
“What?”
“I asked if you were friendly with them or not. Is that why you’re so worried now?”
“Uh, no no. But I try my best to steer clear, you know? I should probably buy a bottle and head back.”
“Where are you heading back to? I can portal you if you’d like.” Magnus emphasized if you’d like with a lift of his hand to remove sparkles and various sequins that had fallen in Eljah’s hair. Eljah felt back for flinching momentarily when the older warlock moved, but it didn’t phase him.
“I prefer walking, honestly. And I don’t like to share where I’m going. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course. But I can’t have a young warlock in danger now, can I?” The man pulled a mirror out of thin air to check his eyeliner and Eljah took his moment to watch him. When he was going to object again, Magnus’ name was called. The two turned to the noise made by a blonde shadowhunter quickly approaching alongside a redhead. Magnus’ face dropped, all semblance of fun gone.
Magnus acknowledged the strawberry woman as Clary Fairchild and expressed that she’d grown into a beautiful young woman. She seemed less than impressed.
“Magnus Bane. So, you’re the one who stole my memories.” Eljah inaudibly gasped and awkwardly looked around, attempting to step back. He began to, but his senses activated and his body locked up.
His eyes blurred and he could see the other two who’d branched off from the group re-grip their weapons, clearly ready to cause trouble for Eljah.
“At your mother’s request. She knew the risk.” Magnus and Clary looked each other up and down, shared feelings of annoyance on display. “Show me the jewelry, shadowhunter. You’ve interrupted me and my new acquaintance for long enough.”
A gorgeous necklace unraveled from the blonde shadowhunter’s hand. To any mundane, it looked like a massive ruby, but for those aware of what lurked in the shadows, it was more than that. Magnus was being teased by the blonde, who pulled the necklace back before he could grab it.
“Give Clary back her memories, and you get the jewelry.”
Magnus was not new to this process, however. “I have to confirm its authenticity.” He wiggled his fingers to beckon the shadowhunter to pass it over, which happened begrudgingly.
“Amor verus numquam moritur. True love cannot die. Oh, how I’ve missed this jewel,” Magnus sighed.
“Now it’s your turn to pay up,” Clary ordered.
Magnus’ next words shocked more than just the shadowhunters. “I wish I could retrieve your memories, but I no longer have them..”
“What? Where are they!?”
“I fed them a memory demon for safekeeping.” The lack of context made Eljah’s head swirl, and he sat down on the nearest cushion while the arguing grew.
“And why the hell would you do that?” The blonde angrily asked.
“To protect Clary and the cup. If Valentine ever captured me, he could torture Clary’s memories out of me. Just like he tortured Dot.”
Raphael had told Eljah briefly about what he knew of Valentine—which wasn’t much, other than he wanted all downworlders dead. Essentially, the white supremacist of the shadow world. His vampire friend warned him to take safer, more open routes anywhere he went unless he wanted to end up dead or experimented on.
“Tortured? Wait, is Dot okay?”
“You don’t know?” there was a strong beat of slimy silence, “Dot is dead.” Clary whispered, “what?” in response, her face paler underneath her makeup now. She kept shaking her head in disbelief, “how do you know?”
“I can’t feel her magic anymore,” Magnus visibly deflated. “Valentine killed her because she would not betray your mother.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Come with me, Clary,” the high warlock offered, “my lair can offer you protection no shadowhunter ever could.” The sneer in his voice was strong at the mention of angelic beings. Said beings only scoffed and Clary followed with quick rejection.
“No, I’m not going anywhere with you.” Eljah was considering leaving again as the bass of a new song boosted and the drink he’d sipped earlier was making him sweat—downworld drinks hit differently… alongside the weed in his system. He was certainly waking up at the mention of important topics, but he needed to stay seated longer.
“Don’t be a fool. Your mother would want you to live.”
“Then help me get my memories back from whatever demon you gave them to.”
“Valentine is hunting you, too,” Magnus sounded venomous now, “and every moment we’re outside my lair’s protection, is a moment Valentine gets closer to finding us.”
Magnus clapped his hands together, releasing his magic to create a purple, bubbling portal. Not forgetting about his new friend, he turned to him.
“The offer extends to you as well. Are you well enough to get back home?” Eljah didn’t speak, nodding curtly to signal he would leave on his own. Clary and her protector looked at each other as she considered the same, but the blonde shook his head.
“I won’t offer again.” Magnus rolled his eyes and waited in annoyance.
Clary’s response was bold to Eljah, and far too earnest and emotional. She claimed she wouldn’t hide from her problems, and neither should Magnus, which made Eljah annoyed too. How shadowhunter of her to respond that way. He understood the need to get things done, but the shadowhunters weren’t the ones being hunted. How could she possibly digest if hiding or not hiding was appropriate? Downworlders didn’t have the same privileges.
Distracted in his thoughts, he didn’t notice any danger looking nearby.
“Look out!” Within seconds, an arrow shot through the club and hit someone. Eljah shot up in fear, auto-gripping his stele from his pocket, but tried to remain stoic as he approached the now deceased shadowhunter.
An incredibly tall, brunette shadowhunter who shot the arrow rushed through and kneeled beside Eljah, checking his pulse. He didn’t hear Magnus whisper, “who are you?”. Eye contact with their savior distracted Eljah.
“Are you okay?” The brunette whispered quickly. Eljah nodded again, standing to make space for the others.
Clary yelled out for Magnus as he attempted to leave. “You’re my only hope.”
“Valentine found us. I warned your mother this might happen.” He disintegrated into the portal and Clary stood with a clenched fist containing a button from his shirt.
A beautiful female shadowhunters followed the path of the previous, telling them, “the area’s secure. Looks like he was the only assassin.” Eljah turned away from the group and lifted his left sleeve to access his Iratze rune, ridding him of his high so he could leave safely. He assumed no one saw.
“He has a circle rune on the base of his neck,” the attractive male brunette added.
“They found us. It’s not safe here. Clary, we have to go!” The blonde’s words fell on deaf ears as Clary stood still in shock. Eljah wanted to approach, ask if she was okay, but he couldn’t move. The once boisterous club felt stuffy now.
Eljah was walking backward to leave, aggressively bumping into someone.
“It’s not safe for you either, even if you’re from a different institute. No shadowhunter is safe,” the tall man spoke in monotone, “there is space in the New York Institute and we may need the help.”
“I’ll be just fine on my own, but thank you. Just take care of your redhead and good luck.”
“No, he’s right,” the blonde stopped Eljah, “it’s not safe. Come back to the institute.”
“Are you gonna knife me if I don’t?”
“No, but who’s to say one of Valentine’s men won’t do the job as soon as you leave?”
Eljah sighed. Magnus’ lair now sounded nicer now than it did before.
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.
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