#AGAIN. Also final thing I have thought about the possibility of Blackthorn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amchara · 2 years ago

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Trouble Seems to Follow (Part Seven)

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn, Livvy Blackthorn (Kit/Ty)

Wordcount: 5,155 words (23,236 words in total)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

The final part of the 'Kit and Ty meet again after three years when Kit rescues Ty by teleporting them out of danger.'

Kisses are analysed, secrets are revealed, and the Seelies hunting Kit down return (with a special guest). The final installment of this story!

As always, thanks to @sandersgrey for the Kit/Ty posts that keep inspiring fic, including this one!

There was something about kissing Ty that scared Kit. It was unlike kissing Holly, even when she had been the one nipping at his earlobes and down his neck, leaving hickeys and Kit had briefly wondered about bites and how werewolf transference actually worked.

No, it was different with Ty. It was everything Kit wanted… but it felt somehow darker, where they were both still keeping walls up, a spark of dormant conflict and uneasiness existing, despite boundaries becoming tangled between them.

He was aware of Ty’s body covering his in a possessive stance, pressing against him in a way that in other situations would have set off his fight or flight instinct. His hands were around Kit’s waist, firm pressure and unmoving, in contrast to their usual beautiful fluttering movements. But Ty kept his kisses lighter and undemanding even as Kit curled fingers into his dark hair, urging him him down, closer. Wanting to close the distance of years apart.

After countless times agonising over lost and potential what-if scenarios in his head- touching Ty, kissing him- initiated by Ty was the sweetest relief. But it also provoked new waves of anxiety. What if he was doing it wrong? What if this was his one chance and he was messing it up? Shut up, Kit tried to tell his spiralling thoughts.

He placed his other hand at the edge of Ty’s borrowed shirt, slipping it underneath. He hesitated until he heard an impatient in-breath, and a slight movement of Ty moving even closer and only then did he allow himself to touch Ty’s skin, feeling goosebumps and the hard planes of muscle as they moved with his breath, as their lips touched and lifted. Ty left butterfly kisses around Kit’s mouth and along his neck, sending thrills down Kit’s nerves, setting them alight. Kit traced along Ty’s shoulder bones, feeling the curve of Ty’s lips shape into a smile as he did so.

Sometime later, Kit leaned his head back to catch a breath, dropping his hands from their explorations.

Ty also drew back, his gaze set at a point in the wall. He kept his hands where they were, almost as if to keep Kit in place- from fleeing again.

Kit studied him, trying to read into the set of his jaw, the squint around Ty’s eyes or the subtle tension he held in his lips for clues as to what they did next. Where they went after this bridge had been crossed - no, thoroughly destroyed - when it came to their friendship.

Rather than address that thorny issue, his eyes were drawn to the slight raise underneath the fabric of Ty’s shirt. Kit traced a finger over one of the delicate chains, hooking a finger over it, to pull out the Herondale necklace.

Ty let out an involuntary shiver.

“You shouldn’t wear this anymore,” Kit said, his voice cracking loudly. Ty’s eyes flew back to his face, settling on his lips, as Kit winced. “It was supposed to keep you safe. But things have changed and wearing it now will only put you in danger.”

“I’m not in danger from the necklace,” Ty said, his voice steady. Finally releasing Kit’s waist, he took several small steps back. Watching Ty distance himself again, Kit felt a sudden surge of apprehension.

“Kit. I have to tell you something,” Ty said. “I was going to wait until Livvy came back but I- can’t wait.” He looked nervous - possibly for the first time since they had reunited - rubbing his hands up and down along the side of his jeans.

Kit’s stomach was churning with uneasiness. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Okay?” he replied, trying to remain casual.

“I know you’re the descendant of the First Heir.” Ty met Kit’s eyes as he dropped his bombshell, his eyes now dark and fathomless in the rapidly-darkening training room.

Kit straightened up at Ty’s confession. Whatever he expected Ty to say, it wasn’t that. But then again, it wasn’t exactly surprising Ty had put two and two together, he reasoned. The monster attacking Ty had addressed Kit as the heir. And combined with the past twenty four hours and seeing Kit’s powers in action… “Right,” he said, neutrally, noting that Ty was waiting for a reaction before continuing.

“We- the Centurions, we know the Seelie Queen and her court have been trying to track down this heir - and it’s… you,” Ty said, rubbing the back of his neck, ducking his head. He looked distraught. “I’ve realised it’s you.”

“Yeah, no shit- that’s been my life these last three years, them trying to find me.” Kit said bitterly. “What of it? I didn’t exactly expect the Centurions to protect me, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No- but. You probably didn’t expect the Centurions would be helping the Seelie Court track you down.”

“What.” Kit felt cold. “Why?” Suddenly his heart was pounding too loudly in his chest and he could feel his gaze drawn past Ty to the door to the rest of the house. His power itched in his veins, telling him to leave, escape, flee.

“Why? Kit, I’ve just seen what you can do. And according to prophecies we’ve read, you’ll be ten times more powerful once you’ve learned to harness it properly.”

Ty’s voice was back to that same, flat tone. His Centurion voice, Kit decided. “Plus, you have claims to both the Unseelie and Seelie thrones which- if they go to war, it could spill over to the wider Shadow World-” Ty was shaking his head, almost disagreeing as he listed all the reasons that Tessa had laid out to Kit, all those years ago, when she invited him to live with her and Jem at Cirenworth.

“Yeah, yeah- fine, I’m a ticking time bomb,” Kit interrupted, pushing himself off the wall. His power was building again, gaining energy from his growing anger and fear.

Fighting against his instinct to flee, Kit walked up to Ty instead, forcing him to back up several more steps. Kit narrowed his eyes. “So, I guess- for the good of the Shadow World, what are you gonna do? Arrest me? Hand me over to the Seelie Court?”

Ty’s jaw moved imperceptibly, his eyes darting back and forth past Kit.

“Whoa, things seem to have escalated here,” Livvy’s voice was loud behind them, as she materialised in the gloom.

“Not a good time, Livvy,” Kit told her, watching as Ty pivoted to greet his sister, as Livvy drifted up to his shoulder. The twins held a rapid hushed conversation between them, before Livvy turned to Kit.

“Well, you better make up in the next thirty seconds ‘cause you need to leave Cirenworth now. Ty’s machine has gotten very good at giving the Seelie Court’s hunters a heads up to your location… and Anush has just spun it up to try and locate you again.”

“Ty’s machine?” Kit knew his voice was strained at this new detail of Ty’s betrayal. Ty grimaced and looked away.

Livvy’s mouth went into a round ‘o’ and she blinked rapidly. “Yeah- his and Anush’s adapted Sensor- did he not tell you-” she said, looking confused. “I just- you were talking about the Seelie Court, so I assumed you knew he’s been running the Centurion side of the operation to find the heir… like, before he knew it was you.”

“We were getting there,” Kit said, gritting his teeth. “I assume.”

He looked over- only to find Ty had slipped behind the nearest workbenches, gathering up throwing knives. “You need to pick a weapon,” he called out to Kit. “Quickly, before we go.”

“What do you mean ‘before we go?’” Kit tried to sort through his rapidly blossoming thoughts, which were threatening to overwhelm him. Automatically, he moved towards the nearest plinth, and grabbed tiny knives and their corresponding sheaths.

Ty stopped in front of him. “We’ll need to teleport away from Cirenworth for the fight,” he said. His voice was calm, even as he tapped a rapid rhythm on the ground with the massive pike he had grabbed from the wall. He held out several larger knives to Kit.

Kit threw a glance to Livvy, who nodded. “We need to go.”

“What do you mean we?” Kit repeated, even as he accepted the knives. Ty couldn’t mean-

“Kit, I know you almost drained your power earlier but- you need to take both of us to a location away from Cirenworth. Otherwise your family won’t be safe,” Ty told him, his voice barely above a whisper, deadly serious.

“I - seriously? You’ve been sending Seelie hunters after me, and now you want me to take you to an ambush with them?” Kit pointed out. He clenched his fists, feeling the ornamental hilts of the knives becoming slippery in his sweaty hands. Why was he wasting time? He should’ve been left as soon as he had heard Livvy’s warning.

Ty screwed up his face in consternation and his eyes kept slipping to Livvy before being drawn back to Kit. “I understand why you don’t trust me but you need me there for the fight,” he said fiercely.

“I- can’t,” Kit said.

Ty’s hands spasmed around the pike. “Please- I want to help. Let me help you. So you don’t have to keep running - you told me you don’t want to keep running.” Livvy was hovering behind Ty, an anxious expression on her face.

It’s an impossible dream Kit thought dully. Particularly with the bombshell Ty had just dropped - that the Centurions were helping track him down - it didn’t bode well for his future freedom or chance of a normal life. He tried to focus on buckling the knife sheaths around his forearms.

“Kit, please.” Ty’s voice was almost a whisper and Kit’s survival instinct kicked in. It didn’t have to be today that he was finally caught, he thought. This time around, he could have a well-trained, insider Centurion help him slip the rapidly-tightening net.

Assuming Ty wasn’t double-crossing him and wasn’t just planning to deliver him over to the Seelie Queen. But that didn’t seem Ty’s style; so, did Kit trust him?

Kit made his calculations rapidly. He stashed the knives in his arm braces and moved within Ty’s orbit. “Where to?”

Ty didn’t hesitate, shifting so Kit could comfortably fit his arms around him, in a tight embrace. “Someplace with high cover, maybe a few miles from here. So we don't have to hike half a day back again,” Ty said, his voice close to Kit’s ear.

“I’ll follow,” Livvy promised.

In the distance, Kit could hear Jem calling him and Ty for dinner, as the scene in front of them melted away in a blur.

Kit felt like he was going to be physically sick. The trip to the steep, hilly Dartmoor viewpoint where he and Jem had started hikes had taken most of his power reserves, and he fought off dizziness, clutching at the nearest tree trunk. Had he jumped quickly enough that Ty’s adapted Sensor was tracking him to this new location, or were the Seelies going to show up at Cirenworth?

“Let me-,” Ty took his arm, turning it upwards and and efficiently sketched fresh strength and perseverance runes before letting go of Kit, watching him closely for a minute before turning away. Dizziness fading, Kit was reminded once again of the usefulness of runes but decided he may have to talk to Ty about his obsession with drawing them on him.

Livvy popped into view and with unspoken agreement, all three of them turned their attention to their immediate surroundings, looking down from the craggy, tree-filled outcrop of rock, and the empty parking lot and fields below. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any mundane hikers around.

It was so quiet in the still countryside evening that the sudden pop and appearance of the Faerie contingent made Kit jump.

“Oh shit.” Kit had never heard Ty swear using mundane terms before.

While Kit’s previous brushes had involved one or two at most Fae warriors or beasts, this was a full contingent, counting at least fifteen fully-armed faeries and two very large wolf-like creatures pacing back and forth below them. Standing as an odd man out, there was also a Centurion, his dark hair and skin and black uniform in stark contrast to the bone-armoured Seelies.

No matter how well-trained Ty was - and whatever help Kit could provide - there was no way that they could take them. Even if Ty was inclined to fight his fellow Centurion.

Kit looked over at Ty’s pale face and Livvy’s terrified look and a wave of despair washed over him.

“What do we do?” he could see Livvy mouth and Kit shook his head. Maybe it was best that this was where he surrendered, keeping his family safe and far away, he thought, even as every part of him rebelled against that suggestion.

“It’s not possible to fight that many…” Ty murmured, as an intense look of concentration crossed his face.

Several long seconds passed and Kit grew antsy, attempting to split his attention between the danger below and Ty.

“Well, Sherlock?” he asked.

Ty smiled at the nickname, despite Kit’s sarcastic edge to it. He dropped his pike and fished out a couple more items from his pockets, and dropped them carelessly underneath the nearest tree. “I have a plan,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Pass me a knife, Watson.”

Kit handed it over and then bit down on a yelp as Ty pulled it out of the sheaf, and with a swift motion dragged it high across his collarbone, and then across his left cheekbone. The cuts bled a sluggish red as Ty addressed Livvy. “Can you shield Kit with your ghost cloaking ability, Livvy? For a few minutes at least?”

“I- I think so. I don’t know if Seelie magic can cut through it but I can try,” Livvy nodded and Ty looked reassured.

“Ty- don’t be, what the fuck are you even doing?” Kit hissed, torn between wanting to get an explanation or better yet- drained power be damned- grabbing Ty and teleporting them both someplace far away from the deadly squad below.

“Buying us enough time so I can get back to London and disable the Sensor,” Ty replied, as he added a few more shallow knife cuts to his arms, and then smeared the blood around.

Kit and Livvy looked on in horrified silence. “But I need to do it now before they find us!” Ty said, more urgently. “Climb that tree and just wait here,” he told them, pointing. Without waiting for an answer, he started to walk towards the narrow path down to the empty parking lot and towards the Faeries, who had gathered their bearings and were beginning to spread out.

Feeling incredulous but unable to think of anything better to do, Kit hiked himself into the nearest suitable tree. Livvy floated up beside him. “Stay still - it’s cold but it won’t hurt you,” she whispered. An invisible blanket of cool air fell across him, and the world suddenly went foggy at the edges, as if they were in a glass filled with condensation. “When did you learn that?” Kit asked, his voice low enough he wasn’t sure she heard him.

But she did. “At the Scholomance - I discovered I could hide from other ghosts, and Ty and I experimented where we discovered I could also cloak him from ghosts- and also from his fellow students. For a time, at least. ” In the ghost bubble, Livvy’s eyes were fathomless and her voice was as harsh as the winter wind.

Kit tried not to recoil. Then he leaned forward, as Ty broke from the tree cover towards the now-fanned out Faeries. His heart in his throat, he heard a shout from the nearest one, aiming their crossbows at Ty’s heart, before Ty was ushered into the centre of the group.

Several long agonising minutes passed as Kit strained to see Ty’s every move and gesture, watching as Ty pointed to his self-inflicted cuts, and wondering if he was able to pull it off whatever mad plan he had come up with. He didn’t seem to have been immediately taken prisoner by the Seelies, which Kit figured was a good sign.

A few moments later, Ty’s debrief finished, the Faeries continued their scouting of the area. A small group of them, including Ty, headed towards the outcrop where Kit and Livvy were hiding.

In the distance, Kit could see Ty and the other Centurion - he wondered if it was Anush - in a deep conversation, with a large piece of paper held in his hand and Ty pointing to several spots on it. The wind blew snatches of words towards them but Kit couldn’t make out a legible conversation. He gradually relaxed as Ty’s stance remained ramrod straight but untroubled while hiking upwards with the other Centurion. But then Kit’s attention turned to the Seelie wolfhound attached to the group, which growled and rushed ahead to the clearing where they were hiding.

Kit tensed, rustling branches. Livvy glared at him and he shrugged apologetically. As the Faeries prowled underneath and around them, he tried to refrain from even breathing. In that sense, he thought, Livvy had the easier job.

“Dhosvy has found a scent,” said the imperious Seelie knight holding the lead. “The Heir must be close.” The wolfhound started circling around the tree Kit and Livvy were hiding in. Kit closed his eyes briefly, wishing he believed in God, Raziel… any deity, so he could pray to them.

But Ty shook his head. “Perhaps-” he said, looking perfectly at ease despite being only a few metres and moments away from his whole ruse falling apart. “Or-” he tilted his head and went to grab his abandoned weapons, under the tree, picking up a small box. “He might be picking up this artifact that belongs to the Heir,” he said, flashing the small wooden box he had shown to Tessa, Jem and Kit, hours earlier.

“It’s something I found while searching in the area,” he told the Fae, who were looking disgruntled, as the wolfhound sniffed eagerly at the box being held out and growled at it. “It’s associated with the Heir and I dropped it in my brief skirmish with him.” Ty said calmly gesturing to his wounds. He smiled, at ease, reaching out to let the wolfhound sniff his own upturned palm, which was brave, Kit thought, considering the size of the creature.

The two Fae looked disappointed and they spoke amongst themselves in a language Kit couldn’t understand but assumed was High Fae. They circled around the clearing a few more times with their hound, while Ty and the other Centurion just watched in silence. But Livvy’s cloaking held and Ty’s deception seemed to have convinced them. After a few more tense minutes, the duo left, their soft, sibilant High Fae words sounding angry.

Ty and the Centurion lingered, as Ty picked up his pike and other spilled weapons. “So… I assume you’ll tell me the full story of how you arrived here, in the nick of time, when we’re back in London and out of Fae earshot,” the other man said, softly. Despite his accusatory words, he sounded almost cheerful and from Kit’s position in the tree, it looked like he was almost grinning at Ty.

Ty nodded slowly. “Yes, I definitely have a story to tell,” he said neutrally. “But I have to head back to the Carstairs’ place first- their library has some texts on Fae legends I think will be useful to unravel the next stage of finding the Heir.”

“Hey. We’ve already found him- it’s just too bad he got the jump on you this time and escaped,” said Anush. “You should’ve brought along Kit Herondale on your hike. I know some of the London Institute aren’t too keen on him but he’s a Herondale, so I’m sure that’s got to count for something. And you mentioned in your message he was helpful last night- which by the way, I am still hurt you chose to bring him instead of me for your jaunt down to Devon to investigate your newest lead.”

Ty just shrugged in response. But Anush didn’t seem to take it personally and continued chattering on as they made their way back down the hill.

Kit let out the breath he had been holding.

Slowly, the Faeries drifted back from their reconnaissance of the area, and despite the distance, Kit thought he could see the looks of frustration on their faces. After another short huddle and consultation, one of the more grandly-dressed Faeries held up his arm, and as suddenly as they had appeared, they blinked out of existence, leaving Ty alone again.

Kit slumped back against the tree’s spindly trunk with relief.

Ty made his way back to them almost half an hour later, which Kit assumed was in case anyone had tried to follow him. His lips were tight and white-rimmed, and he kept running his hands through his hair, almost compulsively, as he entered the clearing where Kit and Livvy were waiting.

“You can come out,” he said. Kit cautiously made his way out of the tree, and watched Livvy rush over to her twin and fuss, as Ty slumped onto a flat rock.

Kit approached, watching Ty scrub at his face, and he could see the sweat beading Ty’s forehead, despite the rapidly-cooling night air.

“That was a bold plan,” he said, as the silence stretched out between them. “I didn’t realise you had become so good at deception,” he said.

Ty’s face shuttered at Kit’s words. “It’s a skill like any other Centurion one- like any good detective should have,” he said defensively. “Anyway- you’ve been good at it for years,” he said, lifting his chin.

Ty’s words stung more than Kit would have liked. “Yeah well- we’re both excellent liars now, hooray for us,” he replied.

Livvy sighed loudly and both of them turned to look at her. “Oh please- do NOT start this again,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Can’t you both acknowledge that you’ve both kept secrets from each other and move past it?”

Kit ignored her plea. “Oh, I don’t know- maybe. But then again, maybe the fact you’ve been in charge of hunting me down for the past few months could’ve come up earlier?” he said, directing his sarcasm towards Ty.

Ty stiffened. “I didn’t know it was you- plus you also haven’t been forthcoming about where your power came from. Or why you’ve been in hiding.”

“You didn’t ask,” Kit shot back. Then he realised how weird that was in hindsight- Ty not asking those questions, and his curiosity made him forget his anger briefly. “When did you figure it out?”

Ty had started angrily tracing patterns in the dust of the rock he was sitting on. “I didn’t know it was you,” he repeated, unwilling to look up. “But I started to have suspicions almost from the beginning when we met up again.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” Kit asked, desperate.

Ty stopped his finger drawings, and slowly stood. “Because I didn’t want it to be true,” he said, an undertone of anger colouring his voice. “Because I don’t want us to be on opposite sides of the war that is coming.”

Kit felt cold apprehension at his words. “Wait- what do you mean by that?” He looked to Livvy but didn’t find any clues on her pale, immobile face.

Ty shook his head, looking frustrated. “I- I don’t have time to explain it all. Not right now,” he said, starting to pace around the clearing.

Kit could’ve throttled him there and then. “Why not?”

“Because I have to head back to the London Institute. I need to disable or adjust the Sensor so the Seelie Court doesn’t immediately come after you again!” Ty pointed out, and he looked close to losing his patience with Kit. He ran his fingers through his hair again, letting it stand on end.

In the fast-paced scenes of the previous hour, Kit had forgotten about that. He nodded reluctantly. “Okay fair.” He watched as Ty re-arranged his weapons, shifting the small box that had saved his skin, into a front pocket.

“What is that, really?” he asked Ty, nodding at the Faerie artifact.

Ty ignored the question, pulling out his stele to draw an iratze on his arm instead. Kit pushed down his irritation. He paused. “Thank you for risking your career to pull one over on the Seelie Court for me.” Despite his hurt over discovering Ty’s role in the whole mess, he owed him that much, at least.

“You’re welcome- today’s situation is only the start though, to avoid them catching on,” Ty said thoughtfully, stowing his stele and tapping his fingers on the pike again.

Kit thought about the monumental task Ty seemed to have just agreed to - keeping Kit out of the Seelie Court’s way and presumably also out of the hands of his fellow Centurions. How long could he keep up a double agent life? And why was he agreeing to it? Ty had wanted to be a Centurion for a long time and was surely risking not only his career but also potentially his status as a Shadowhunter just to help Kit.

Kit felt conflicted - it all felt like too much to ask of Ty- and therefore, he didn’t trust it.

Noticing Livvy’s mournful gaze towards Ty, Kit also considered her position - watching from the sidelines as her twin moved through life, her own autonomy shuttered and tied to Ty.

And how his own life- which was barely kept under control- was spiralling into an even larger problem. Particularly as his cover as a barely-competent Shadowhunter was crumbling around him. He- and Tessa and Jem- were going to have to come up with a new plan. Or maybe it was time to drop the subterfuge and show the Shadowhunters who he really was.

The dying rays of the sunset lit Ty’s hair, catching red highlights, and with his unhealed scars, he looked every part of the dangerous, dark presence Kit had originally seen when he first properly met Ty again, deep in the depths of Dartmoor.

It had been only a little while ago they had snatched a brief moment to be just Kit and Ty. As they had been in L.A. Friends- or maybe it had always been something more, Kit thought, remembering their kiss. Part of him wanted to kiss Ty again, and part of him wanted to shake him until he gave up every remaining secret hidden behind those flinty grey eyes.

But their roles as Centurion and First Heir were overshadowing everything else. And any clarifying questions Kit might have proposed were stuck in his throat.

“So… what are we going to do, long term?” he finally asked, wondering if any of the sadness he was feeling came through in his voice.

Ty’s face softened. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. He stepped closer to Kit tentatively. “But we’ll come up with a plan,” he promised.

He held out a hand and Kit took it, accepting the truce. Digging deep within his power, he returned them to Cirenworth without another word.

Ty, alongside Livvy, disappeared through the Portal, and Kit felt a hollow ache in his chest expand, as the flashing swirl of blue lights closed.

“As soon as I can, I’ll come back and we can talk more freely next time,” he had promised Kit just ahead of Tessa opening up the Portal.

Kit had crossed his arms, holding himself back from touching Ty. “You better,” he said baldly. “No secrets next time- all revealed, promise?”

Ty’s smile had been brief but dazzling, and he reached out to briefly embrace Kit. “I can do that,” he said. “We’ll find the time.”

And Kit had felt just the tiniest bit guilty.

“You’ll see him again soon, darling,” Tessa said, returning Kit to the present. She clasped him by the shoulders. “And the visit to Jem’s family is only temporary while we chat with Alec about what kind of protection you can get if you go back to another Institute.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, allowing a quick hug before stepping back. He hadn’t yet told Tessa and Jem about Ty’s reveal that the Centurions were working with the Seelie court to hunt him down- or that Ty was in charge of it, instead making up an excuse that he and Ty had lost track of time. He suspected if he hadn’t, Tessa might not have been so willing to send Ty back on his urgent mission to London.

“But… I don’t know if he’s gonna be super happy to see me next time…”

Tessa frowned. “Why?”

Kit dug into the pocket of his hoodie and produced the small, ornate box. “Because I pickpocketed that Faerie artifact from him.”

He felt bad about stealing from Ty. But he also needed to do what was necessary if he was going to stay one step ahead of the Seelie Court- and now the Centurions, even if Ty did manage to muddle the Sensor so it wasn’t able to find him. The box and the pendant within were clearly important to the Centurions’ mission around the First Heir, and he needed to find out why, even if - especially if - Ty was unwilling to tell him more about it.

Beside them, Jem swore softly and Mina, in his arms, giggled. “Kit…” Jem said.

Tessa shook her head but Kit thought he saw a proud look in her eye. “Do you want me to take a closer look at it, before you head off to Shanghai?” she asked.

Kit pulled off the lid and peered inside. In contrast to its fancy exterior design, the pendant inside was plain, a hollow circle, edged in gold, with two gems- a sapphire and ruby at either end.

He reached out to touch the sapphire- and immediately felt a pulling sensation, almost as if his powers were being activated unwillingly. He saw Tessa’s eyes widen and she threw out a hand, attempting to snatch the box away.

But it was too late; he felt the air compress around him and the warmth of Cirenworth’s garden turn into a damp, closed space. The scene in front of him twisted and reformed into a dark cave, lit by flickering candles with black flames. “What the-” Kit pivoted to find a blond boy - of similar age to him in front of him, practising sword drills.

His green eyes narrowed, noticing the pendant but didn’t seem to be surprised at Kit’s appearance and he let out a short, cynical laugh. “You’re early, First Heir,” he drawled. “But I guess we can start training now.”

I know, I know- it's not really a proper ending but it's as far as I'm willing to write my version of The Wicked Powers and Kit and Ty's reunion. And I know it's messy, a lot of questions unanswered- and they still don't entirely trust each other to truly relax, and who can blame them? But progress has been made, a connection reforged (and a kiss happened!) so I'm satisfied I've achieved everything I set out to do with this story.

Thank you for sticking with it, despite the long gaps between updates for the last couple of chapters. (Life, y'know?)

Taglist: @dontmindmyshadowhunting @jesse-is-spiralling @of-same-steel-and-temper @thomastaircompassrose @sandersgrey @thechangeling @mferraz @kestrafagnor @gabtapia @alldagayships @blindbandit1515 @silvermagnolias @chaotic-halfblood-kit @fighting-god-69 @lifeofbrybooks @all-this-panic-still-no-disco @heloisacosta23 @kitheronthorn @idk-i-just-really-like-tsc @t0wergirl

#tsc fanfiction #kitty fanfiction #kit x ty #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #secrets of blackthorn hall #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #my fanfic #trouble seems to follow

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years ago

Text

all gone, all gone, all gone

part 1: yeah, there’s a lot left over

CW: suicide attempt (warnings for later chapters: emotional manipulation, PTSD, kidnapping)

i’m super serious about this y’all, dead dove: do not eat

there are parts of this that are very, very unpleasant. please don’t read if it will be triggering for you!

Read it on AO3

“It… It was you,” Cordelia said in horror, staring at her brother. “You betrayed us.”

“Is it wrong to say I told you so?” Matthew asked, and Thomas glared at him.

“I don’t understand how you could do something like this,” she told Alastair. She wanted a response from him, a flinch of pain, a sensible explanation. He had none for her. He could make one up, surely. He’d spent enough of the past week playing the good guy to be confident in that. Belial did not need him here any longer, though, so there was no purpose.

It had started just over a week ago, two days after Alastair’s deal with Belial. He wanted him to learn of the plans they had, Cordelia and James and the rest of them, and report back to him. It was straightforward enough, leaning into his father’s death as a reason to change. He never said the change was for the better. He thought it quite ironic considering the Alastair of a few weeks ago was a much, much better person than the one standing before them now.

He’d done it all. He’d comforted Cordelia, bonded with James, flirted with Thomas. He could see it in Matthew’s eyes, he had begun to be forgiven. Too late, he supposed cynically.

"He'll kill you," Cordelia pleaded. "You have to know that. You're merely a pawn. He'll dispose of you once he's done. You'll die!"

He snaked his grin in a way he was certain he could not have done before. Before he had allowed Belial to plant his darkness in him. He tilted his head with a pitying glance. "Layla, I'm already dead. I jumped off Tower Bridge a week and a half ago."

He watched her gaze fall, now horrified. The others' faces were steeled, but he could see the slight flinch in Thomas' eyes. Alastair would never flinch again. "I... I don't understand," Cordelia said slowly.

Alastair could remember it, he could remember his despair, though he could no longer feel it. He was intoxicated, just a little, just enough. He was so tired, he was so sad, he was so tired of feeling sad. His father was gone. There was no one he needed to protect his family from any longer. It was his fault. He could recall the feeling of falling, of flying, before he was caught by a cold inky hand of the scraps of the night. He could remember his panic as he floated upwards back to the ledge of the bridge, the rising sun blinding him. He recalled the figure that he could now identify as Jesse Blackthorn, possessed by Belial, his eyes black and hands twisted in inhuman magic, waiting to meet him. He held him over the depths of the Thames as he asked him to join him.

He said that he could make it so he never felt pain again. He would never feel powerless. He could have everything he ever dreamed of. A bit of assistance now and the world would be his once it was over. A true second chance.

He knew that he was lying. He was a Prince of Hell. He'd been lied to enough times, he'd lied enough times to know what it looked like. He was scared, terrified, and all he wanted was for it all to stop. He wanted to no longer feel exhausted. He wanted to no longer feel.

He said yes.

"I'm a ghost, Layla. A wraith. The brother you knew is merely a memory. Belial saved me. Your silly sentimentalities cannot touch me now."

He watched her break. He'd devoted his life to shielding her from pain. To taking it himself so that she would never need to. But he was no longer living, and in death he could protect her no longer.

He sighed, seeing her tears fall. "Silly little sister..." he mused. "How foolish I was to sacrifice so much for someone so weak. Now, I must be going. You do understand Belial's demands, don't you?" His tone was patronizing.

Her eyes flared with anger. "You are not my brother! I will get him back!"

As Alastair left, he chuckled. In life, such an act was impossible. It had been years since he'd last laughed. In death, he was free.

* * *

Looking at her father’s dead body, Cordelia had not thought her life could get any worse. She’d been naive, thinking his death would be a true low. She hadn’t known what low felt like. She felt lost in space, floating. If James hadn’t guided her, she never would have made it home.

The other boys lingered around. She understood why. Words needed to be said, but she had none.

Thomas was the first one to speak. His voice sounded more like an echo and Cordelia wondered if he even knew he was speaking at all. “It was all a lie.”

“I suppose we should have guessed that something was off,” Matthew said gently. “Given how kindly he was acting.”

James glared at him. “Matthew, now’s not-”

“Stop,” Cordelia interrupted. She took a breath and tried to compose her thoughts. “Stop talking. You don’t- You never actually knew him. I thought- The thing is, the past few days… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him act more himself. The person who he truly is underneath everything else. The person he was before- before all of the bad things started happening. Alastair before he’d experienced true pain, true cruelty. I’d thought… I thought that with our father’s death, he had finally started to heal. I thought… How could I have gotten it so wrong?”

“An Alastair without pain,” Christopher mused.

She blinked. “I… suppose? What are you saying?”

“It’s clear that Belial is controlling him somehow, or holds some type of influence over him. If nothing else, we all know that even at his worst, he would never hurt Cordelia. Perhaps he took away his pain.”

“Why would that cause him to act this way?”

“Pain isn’t… it’s many things, isn’t it? It’s sadness and anger and fear. You can’t truly feel happiness without pain, either, can you?”

“So… he took his emotions?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Do you think… Do you think this means we can get him back? We can free him?”

The boys cast worried glances at each other. “Cordelia,” James started. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

“Alastair’s not hopeless, James. He’s not a lost cause. He can heal, I know he can. He just needs a little help. If there is any part of him that wants to, I will find it. I’ve turned my back on him over and over and over again. I will not make the same mistake now. I won’t ask you to help me, but please don’t try to stop me.”

They looked at each other slowly, then nodded.

Cordelia didn’t know how, but she would do it. She would find a way to free Alastair from Belial’s control, and whatever came after, they would figure out together. They would find a way. After every terrible thing that had happened, Alastair deserved a chance to truly live. She knew this deeply in her soul, and she knew she would do just about anything to help him find it. In this moment, though, all she needed to do was get him back.

I’m not going to use my regular tag list for this one because it’s so dark, but lmk if you want to be tagged for the next part of this series! I do have most of it written out already, but it’s also finals. Thank you to @littlx-songbxrd for all of your help and support lol <3 i’d say i’m sorry but i’m not

Part 2

#cw suicide #alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #the last hours #tlh #fanfiction #fanfic #coi spoilers #coi #chain of iron #chain of iron spoilers #stairstairs appreciation month 2021 #carstairs siblings week 2021

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crimeronan · 4 years ago

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Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so. yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world. follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content. in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass. which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype. mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that. yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale. both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness?? rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family?? rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life?? rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry?? once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks?? all that repression baybey. this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years. every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far. not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc. i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc. but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me. he’s so fucking good

#replies #tsc #tda #julian blackthorn #meta #long post #ungodly long post.#shadowhunters #Anonymous

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thomaslightwood · 4 years ago

Text

Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 1

KitTy Sherlock AU!

It's set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

I'm not 100% sure where this is going but I'm already writing the second part, so we will see

Words: 3 862 (I know it's long, sorry, this part is more about the plot and the surroundings)

Kit looked at the grey sky above his head and frowned. It was going to rain. Of course.

He hasn't been in London for over a year now but he wondered how he could forget that. The bad weather, the noise, (and true to be told - very dirty) streets, the men in suits and cylinders, the women in pretty dresses, sometimes with pants. He wondered what happened to the few closet shops he was passing by. One of the many mysteries of life.

And talking about mysteries…

Kit saw at the other side of the street what he was looking for. A grey showcase, thorns all over the frame with a few simple words in the middle - "Blackthorn Detective Agency". There was a small bee on its left.

Kit fastly crossed the street, holding his hat. Some man angrily shooted, cursing the sudden wind that scattered many leaves, newspapers and even a few hats. Kit laughed. He missed London even though it wasn't the most awesome place.

He stood up in front of the agency, hesitating. He knew the guy who ran it is young, very good at what he does and known among people as Sherlock Holmes. Kit didn't know almost anything about him. What if he was a criminal? Or another kind of dangerous person?

But he remembered the look on his father's face. The empty package. Kit needed the money, no matter what kind of guy was this Sherlock.

He quietly opened the door and looked around the room as he was entering. It was kind of a lobby but a lot smaller - there was space only for two comfortable-looking armchairs, mahogany mass and a portrait hidden behind a curtain. The walls were in nice, warm colors, mainly grey and brown, a turned off radio on the desk. In the right corner, almost unnoticeable was a polished ajar wooden door.

Kit cautiously stepped towards it but then he heard voices. He stopped, grateful he was quiet while coming inside.

“... think so?” this was a woman's voice, perhaps a girl's.

“Look. All I know is that my friend disappeared a few days ago,” this was definitely a woman's voice, probably older than the first one. “He didn't show up for our meeting the next day. He didn't send a note. And…” she hesitated.

“What is it?” this time it was a male's voice.

There was a minute of silence, then:

“The only reason I come here is not because I can't do investigation on my own. It's because…” she sighed. “The last day we saw each other, exactly the day before our appointment, he told me there is a secret that was passed to him to protect. And he told me about it. Not everything, not enough details, but I'm sure he told me because he knew he may be… attacked. I think his… attackers may know about me and this would impede the investigation.“

“I understand,” the male voice again. It was a nice voice. Melodic. Kit could listen to it for hours. “I suppose you can't tell us this secret.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I definitely can't. It's not mine to say.”

After this no one said anything but Kit thought he heard a pen writing fast on a paper.

“Is there anything further you want to share?” asked the male voice.

“I don't think so,” the woman said. “Just… be careful. Find my friend. The money is not a problem.”

Kit swallowed. Money. This woman had money. Kit should get the job at all costs.

“Thank you, Miss Loss. We will do everything we can to help.”

This was followed by silence and noise of moving clothes. Tracking of heels. Kit jumped off the door, hoping he wouldn't be caught eavesdropping.

A woman with blue skin and white hair came out of the room. A warlock. She suspiciously looked at Kit but didn't say anything. She walked past him and frowned at the sky.

“London's weather is terrible, isn't it?” Kit chuckled. “Sometimes I forget.”

A shadow of a smile crossed the woman's face. “It is, indeed. That's why I brought an umbrella.”

“Lucky you. I always forget and I'm supposed to live here.”

Then a real smile appeared on her face. But she didn't say anything - just put on her gloves, took out her umbrella and went outside. As she opened her umbrella right in front of Kit her skin and hair became darker and she wasn't warlock anymore - just a regular woman in the rain.

Kit watched after her for a second then turned around. On the door's frame was leaning a girl. Not much older than Kit probably, with bright blue-green eyes that was watching him curiously. She was wearing gloves, white shirt with puff sleeves and coffee brown wide leg pants, almost as dark as her curly hair. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Kit noticed a necklace around her neck, with a gold chain and a slim disk of metal on it. On the front was a wreath of thorns - probably the family symbol.

“How can I help you?” she asked politely.

“I'm here for the job. I heard that… Sherlock… is looking for a partner.”

“Yes, that's right,” she said. “Very well. Come in.”

She turned around and got back into the room she and the other woman were in. Kit followed.

It was an office. The shelves on the walls were filled with books - some of them about mathematics and the morse code, about the body language and animals, others - mysteries and classics, fairy tales and mythology, most of which Kit didn't recognize. It was surprisingly cozy - the room was warm and smelled like ink and paper. There were a few maps on the walls - of the world, of England and of London. Three armchairs like the ones in the lobby and surprisingly many tables (at least three) on which were a few little toys and tons of well organized paper - on one was even a disassembled watch. Right against the door, no more than 5 meters away, was a big desk - it was a little messy, with a rotary dial telephone and two chairs on both sides. Probably for the clients.

There was also a board, standing close to the desk - big, see-through board on wheels with paper and written things on it. A young man was cleaning it right now.

As Kit saw him everything around faded a little and his gaze was focused only on him. How beautiful.

This was probably the most good-looking man Kit has ever seen. He was tall, taller than Kit, with messy black hair which showed he probably runs a hand through it a lot. His eyes were grey like the sky outside, carefully reading a piece of paper. He was wearing gloves, a silk white shirt, a little loosened on his neck and black trousers with braces.

This should be Sherlock, Kit thought. He didn't expect him to be so young. Hell, he probably wasn't much older than Kit.

“We have a job candidate," the blue-greened girl said and sat on one of the armchairs.

The young man lifted his gaze to look at Kit. Kit felt embarrassed. He was wearing his favorite overcoat and cap - he wasn't as elegant as the two of them.

“Hello,” he said, trying not to sound too nervous. Or desperate. “I'm here for the job. I heard that Sherlock is looking for someone helping him.”

None of them said who Sherlock was or if the guy in front of him was Sherlock. The black haired one just nodded.

“You can sit if you want.”

Kit sat. The boy took a notebook from one the piles on the desk and a pen.

“My name is Livvy. This is my brother, Ty. We run this place. Nice to meet you.”

They, Livvy actually, asked him a few basic questions - his name, age, occupation. Kit came here prepared to lie for them all. But watching the boys' - Ty's - face while he was writing down the information, he couldn't make himself tell all the lies he had prepared. Kit ended up telling them the truth. His father would be disappointed in him. Well, if he knew his son was here.

“So, Mr. Rook,” the girl started.

Kit shivered. “Please, Mr. Rook is my father. You can call me just Kit.”

“Kit, it is,” she smiled. Kit had a feeling the serious questions begin now.

After almost 30 minutes the interview was at its end.

“Final question,” Livvy said. “Tell us Kit, why do you want to work in this agency?”

Kit paused. “True to be told, it's mainly because I need the money.”

“Oh,” clearly this wasn't the answer she expected. Even Ty looked up. “Really?”

Kit shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I want to help my father and for this I need to find a job. And when I saw the inquiry in the newsletter… I told myself this is what I want to try to work.”

It wasn't the greatest answer, really. But it was the truth.

“Very well,” Livvy said. Ty wrote something in his notebook - he was doing it the whole interview. “Please, leave us alone for a few minutes.”

Kit nodded and got up. He smiled at them and turned around.

When he got out of the room the door closed tightly after him.

•

Livvy turned to him with a playful smile.

“What do you think about him?”

Ty looked at the notes he had made during the interview. Christopher, also known as Kit Rook.

“He looks like he can do the job,” Ty said.

“Oh, come on!” Livvy stepped away from the door and approached Ty's desk. “I know you liked him.”

It was true. Ty did like him. He had a nice smile.

“You're not wrong,” Ty said. “But.”

“But?” Livvy raised an eyebrow.

“I don't think he'll keep up around for long. You heard him. He's here only for the money. When he is financially stable again he'd quit.”

“Ty,” Livvy sighed. “We talked about this. We're looking for someone who will work here, no matter how long. We can't find a full time worker that fast.”

Ty ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed. He looked at the empty board. He already imagined how he filled it with paper, the possible connections and people, places and details, the web of the case - could this stranger help him solve the board?

“I know you don't like strangers,” Livvy said quietly. “But at least give him a chance. From all the people that came, he is… I don't know. Most reliable-looking, I suppose. He would talk with people and he's smart. And I have a feeling he may know a thing or two about London's criminals.”

Ty looked suspiciously at the door, even though he couldn't see Kit through it. “Do you really think he would be helpful?”

Livvy sat on the chair in front of the desk, looking amused - Ty wasn't sure why. “I think he is worth a try.”

Ty looked at his notes one more time, tapping with the pan on them. He looked at Livvy. Sighed.

“All right,” he said. “Let him in. He must hear the good news.”

Livvy smiled at him and got up. Ty almost didn't hear their conversation. Still tapping with the pen on the papers, he read again all the information Catarina Loss gave him. He should talk with some people. Check some places. To think about it.

“Ty?”

“Yes?” he looked at Livvy.

“When is Kit starting?”

Ty thought about it for a second. “Right now.”

•

Well, Kit thought. These guys are intense.

He watched, sitting on a chair, as Ty and Livvy together "prepared" for the case. Ty cleaned up one table, while Livvy moved the London's map closer to the see-through board. At some point they were finished and Livvy sat on the same chair she was sitting on during Kit's interview, while Ty remained standing.

“Let's retell get the case from the beginning,” Ty said and grabbed his notebook. “Before four days, on 10th October Ragnor Fell arrived in London, around 2 p.m. After that, around 4 p.m he and Catarina Loss met on George Street, in a restaurant whose name is unknown. They sat there no more than three hours and left between 6 and 6:30 p.m. This is the last time Catarina sees Ragnor. The next day, 11th October, they should have met at Arthur Street at 11 a.m. but Ragnor never appears.”

He looked up from his notebook and said, “Do I miss something?”

“I don't think so,” Livvy, who had written fast while her brother was talking, shook her head. She turned to Kit as she was handing the paper to Ty. “This is the 'skeleton' of the story. The very basics we know. The details come after this.”

Kit nodded, fascinated by the team they were. What was Kit even doing here? It was obvious the twins worked well together - they didn't need a third wheel.

“Now,” Ty said slowly, looking at the paper with the information Livvy wrote on. “Ragnor told Catarina the secret during their meeting on 10th, correct?” On another list, which he pinned next to the first one, he carefully started to write what he just said. He was making a timeline, Kit realized.

“Correct,” his sister said. “Also, in the same conversation he mentioned he's going to meet with a person named Raphael Santiago, but it's unclear when and where.”

Ty wrote that too.

Then he stared at it, tapping the pen on his hand.

“Do we know when he comes from?” Kit suddenly asked.

They both turned their heads at him at the same time. A little creepy but impressive.

“What do you mean?”

“I was talking about Ragnor and his train. Do we know where the train started from? Or from where Ragnor was before arriving here?”

Ty intensely searched his journal. “I don't think so.”

“It's probably not important anyway…”

“It may be,” Ty just said and took one more paper, wrote something on it and pinned it on the other side of the list with the 'skeleton'. “This is the first thing we're going to check tomorrow.”

For a few more hours they discussed the case. It was Ty mostly and Livvy. Kit was only following their conversations (and Ty's monologues), adding some little details time to time.

He was amazed. After spending a few hours in their company he could understand why "Blackthorn Detective Agency" had this reputation.

Kit looked at the clock on his hand and stood up. “I'm sorry but I have to go.”

It was almost 6 p.m. His father would wonder where he was.

“All right,” Livvy said. “Come here tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. Or earlier.”

Kit shivered. So early. But he only nodded and left.

•

Kit was running down the street. The wind was blowing in his face, his lungs were burning. He could barely stop in front of the door of "Blackthorn Detective Agency". Kit took one deep breath and entered.

Ty was in the lobby, sitting on one of the armchairs. He was reading his notes, in one hand holding a calabash pipe and in the other - his journal.

He glanced at Kit. “You're late.”

“I'm sorry,“ Kit said. It was his first day - it was a bad impression to be late, wasn't it? “I didn't correctly estimate how long it would take me to get here. I promise it won't happen again.”

“Good,” Ty said, closing his notebook. He got up from the armchair and grabbed the overcoat that was on the other.

He was as tall and handsome as yesterday. Under the overcoat he was wearing clothes similar as the day before - only the shirt was green. The braces remained the same.

“Let's go.”

“Shall we not wait for Livvy?”

“She is not coming with us.”

“Oh. All right.”

Ty eyed him as they were leaving the building. “Are you disappointed?”

“Well. No. Just surprised I suppose.”

Ty seemed like he accepted his answer. They walked side by side on the street.

“Where are we going? To the train station?”

“We shall,” Ty said. “But our first stop is Ragnor's apartment because it's closer. Then we'll take a taxi to the train station.”

“Sounds good.”

They walked together in the chilly London. Kit could see his breath in the air. The streets were rather empty. Maybe it was because it was too early? Anyway, he liked it this way. It was calm.

“So,” Kit said. “Why do you choose to call yourself Sherlock? Where does it come from?”

“Livvy came up with it,” Ty said, glancing around the street. Maybe he was searching for Ragnor's apartment. “And I'm not Sherlock.”

Kit was so shocked he stopped walking for a second. Then he caught up with Ty and asked, “Wait, you're not Sherlock Holmes? Then who is it?”

“Well,” Ty said and turned towards the street on the left. “It's Livvy and I. Although she probably will disagree.”

“Interesting,” Kit said absently. This explained some things. Like why no one could tell how Sherlock looked or his age. Even if he was male or female even though most people thought it's a man.

“This is it,” Ty said and they stopped in front of a tall but narrow building, reminiscent of a tower. “I believe Ragnor's apartment is on the third floor.”

Instead of entering the building from the main entrance, they went around to the rear entrance. While they climbed the stairs (because around the elevator too many people would see them), Kit asked, “Do you have a key to the apartment?”

“No,” Ty simply said.

“You say we're going to break in?”

“Well, technically, yes. But Catarina Loss said we should do everything we can to find him. Even if this includes "some not so legal actions", in her words.”

“Dear god,” Kit murmured. “So, we, kind of, have her permission to break in her friend's apartment?”

“That's right.”

Does he know how to do that? Kit thought but didn't say it. He probably knew. This was Sherlock Holmes (or at least half of it).

They quietly sneaked throughout the floor, until Ty stopped in front of room 66B.

He frowned at it.

“What is it?” Kit said.

“It seems that the lock is not... what I expected it to be,” Ty sounded deeply displeased when he said it.

Kit signed. He didn't want to seem like a criminal but desperate situations require desperate measures.

“Have you brought some instrument to open the door?” Kit said, already looking at the lock. “Small screwdriver perhaps? Or something like it?”

“I did,” Ty said absently, tapping with his foot. He was probably thinking of other ways to open the door without breaking it. Well, with a bit of luck Kit was going to do it for him.

“Can you give it to me? I want to try something.”

For a second Ty just looked at him but did as Kit asked.

Kit took the little object and kneeled in front of the door. The lock was better than he expected from a place like this but nothing unbearable.

After a few minutes, a few clicks and pressure on the mechanism Kit unlocked it. He stood up and gave the screwdriver back to Ty.

Ty was looking at him with amused eyes. “Unexpected but very helpful. Thank you.”

Kit felt warm and smiled. He wasn't used to people complimenting him. Shyness he didn't know existed in him woke up and he just said, “Nothing special. You're welcome any time.”

Ty gave him a thoughtful look for a second but didn't say anything.

They walked in the Ragnor Fell flat. It was a rather simple room. Pale red wallpapers, boring green sofa. A dresser and a desk with a few books about Spanish language on it. Bookshelf and a few plants. In the end of the room was a door, as boring as everything else here, that was probably the bedroom.

“This doesn't make sense,” Ty said, looking around the room. He approached the desk and looked at the books.

“What? That this flat is awfully boring for a warlock to live in? If so, yes, you're right.”

“No. I mean,” Ty ran a hand through his hair. “You have a point. I suppose. But I meant that such a warlock as him would protect his own flat at least. We get into it too easy. There were no spells, no protection, nothing. This is strange.”

Kit closed the door to the apartment and stepped in it. “Maybe he just didn't have the time?”

Ty shook his head, opening a drawer in the desk. It was empty. “Between his meeting with Catarina and his arrival in London are two whole hours. After that too, if we guess he hasn't been kidnapped right after meeting her.”

“Fair point.”

Kit looked around as well, approaching the door. There really wasn't anything interesting. Most of the books were classics, the sofa looked old but unused. Kit opened the door to the bedroom which creaked quietly.

This room was even simpler. One big bed, two nightstands on both sides of it and one more wood door, probably for a bathroom or closet. At one of them though there was a frame. As Kit took it in his arms he saw it was a black and white photograph. In the middle Kit recognized Catarina Loss - she was smiling quietly with crossed on her chest arms. On the right was a tall guy with cat eyes and a big smile, maybe a little drunk.

Kit decided the man on the left was Ragnor - he couldn't imagine a guy like the other one would live in place like this. Maybe-Ragnor looked grumpy and annoyed but Kit could see in his sparkling eyes that he was happy. He probably loved his friends but would never admit it.

On the right corner with a thick pen was written 'Peru,1890'.

“Did you find something?”

Kit looked a little startled at Ty. He almost forgot they were here to investigate. Almost.

“Something,” Kit repeated. He handed the frame to Ty and watched as his grey eyes were running through the photo.

“Peru, 1890,” he said thoughtfully. “This photography is from more than 40 years ago.”

“It's the only personal piece here. Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it.

Kit breath stopped. Before he could do anything Ty grabbed his arm, opened the wood door and dragged them both inside.

Ty closed the door to the narrow dark room. Kit couldn't see anything. The only material thing was Ty's body against him. A moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

To be continued...

#kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kitty #tda #tsc #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #livvy blackthorn #kit rook #history au #alternate universe #1930s au #tsc fanfiction #sherlock holmes #sherlock au #sav's writing #my post

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purplebass · 4 years ago

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How Does it Feel

Since everyone talked about Jesse meeting his uncles Gabriel and Gideon (and his aunts too), I’ve decided to write a fic about this.

Rating: T Words: 1779

The day Jesse Blackthorn returned to London, he never thought he would get this much attention. Well, he did expect people to be shocked. He was alive, after everyone had known he had been dead for years. But he never expected the affection, considering how Will and James Herondale had glared at him during most of their time in Cornwall, while they tried to convince Lucie that the best thing to do was going back.

“Why are you stubborn, Lucie? You’ve never been stubborn,” Will told her. “You, please, say something,” he told Jesse, who hadn’t interfered, thinking that it was better if he didn’t voice his thoughts if no one asked him.

“Lucie,” he said gently. “Your father is right. We should go back to London. We can’t stay here forever.”

She glanced at him, and he could read the panic in her eyes. “If we return…” She left the phrase hanging, but he knew what she was thinking. Once it was known to everyone what they did, there would be consequences.

“You don’t have to worry,” he tried to comfort her. “We are going to be okay.” He longed to touch her cheek, but he decided that it was too much to do in front of her family, considering that they might believe it was his fault that she was far from home. He was sure that they didn’t hate him. That it was just a father and a brother who were bothered from their daughter and sister running away with a guy, unmarried.

She nodded at him, and then looked at her father. “Then I guess we should leave.”

Jesse remembered the crestfallen expression on Will’s face as Lucie left them and got ready to go. He turned to him and managed a smile, and that was when he realized that he had probably gained his trust.

There were a few people waiting outside of the London Institute, the evening they were finally back. He knew who they were because he had seen them, but they never did. He recognized Lucie’s mother Tessa, speaking to Cecily Lightwood. His aunt. Her husband, Gabriel, was folding and unfolding his hands in front of him expectantly, while his brother Gideon was telling something to him. He turned his head towards the carriage when he heard the noise of the horses coming closer to the entrance. His wife Sophie also glanced towards them. James had probably told them they were on their way, since he had taken off with one of the horses once they arrived in London.

“They’re all here,” Lucie commented, and touched Jesse’s hand. Her father had fallen asleep during the ride home, that was why she did it. “Is that alright?”

“We can’t control people, Lucie,” he grinned. “And why wouldn’t it be alright? Do you not want to see your uncles and aunts?”

“Of course, I do. I’ve missed them,” she said. “I meant you.”

“What about me?”

“I’m sure they’re also here for you. And you,” she paused. “Might want to be alone.”

He still forgot how it felt to be alive, and to be seen. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see them now. He had been curious about them for years, and only dared to watch them from afar while in his ghost form. He had only met his uncle Gideon once, years ago. He felt a little overwhelmed, but he didn’t say anything. He offered her another smile, then squeezed her hand. Her father cleared his voice and frowned, but Lucie rolled her eyes at him.

“I hope Bridget is already preparing something because I’m starving,” Will said, as the carriage stopped in front of the Institute, and he got off.

He left his side of the carriage open for them, and Jesse took a breath before he also exited the vehicle. He extended his hand to Lucie, whose eyes widened because she didn’t expect it. They had never ridden in a carriage before, in the real sense. He had kept her company in there several times, while he was a ghost. But he had always vanished before she could get off. And he hadn’t been solid - he couldn’t have possibly offered his hand. He realized his hand was sweaty, but Lucie was wearing gloves. She wouldn’t notice.

“We thought you wouldn’t arrive anymore,” Cecily said. “James was here long ago. We were freezing.”

“Nobody asked you to wait outside, Cecy,” Will replied. He was half hugging his wife when Jesse and Lucie turned towards the group of people waiting for them. They caught them kissing, but the others didn’t seem to mind.

“We’ve been,” Gabriel then said, calmly, as if he couldn’t find the words. “Waiting. Waiting for you. Both of you.” He was watching them intently, especially Jesse. He had to look away, his cheeks were surely red by now. “We missed you.”

“Thanks, uncle. I also missed you all,” Lucie said giddily. “May I introduce you to Jesse?”

There was an awkward silence at first. For some reason, no one talked. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” Jesse said, his voice didn’t waver like he expected. “Mrs. Herondale, Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood, and Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood.”

“We’re very pleased to meet you as well, my dear boy,” Sophie said, smiling.

“Yes, we’ve wanted to meet you for a long time,” Gideon echoed.

Lucie squeezed his arm to encourage him.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” uncle Gabriel said. He didn’t give him time to answer, because he enveloped his nephew in a hug.

Jesse didn’t know how to react to that. He didn’t expect all of this excitement, this warm welcome. So he just patted his uncle’s back until he was ready to let him go. Once they separated, Gabriel seemed quite moved. The thought that someone other than Lucie and Grace cared about him to the point of tearing up, made him want to cry as well. He felt tired. He grinned, trying to hold back the tears.

“Why don’t we all get inside? They’ve travelled a long way, they should rest,” Gideon suggested, and the others nodded in agreement.

The group split once they got inside. Tessa greeted them and went her own way with her husband, letting everyone know that they would not join them for dinner, but they would surely see each other later. Jesse wondered what dinner, since it was likely after nine, but he had to admit he was hungry. He’d missed being hungry.

“Bridget has prepared dinner for you,” Cecily said, once they gathered in the drawing room. “She also prepared something for James, but he fled on his horse after he told us you were coming.”

“Do you like chicken soup, Jesse? That’s what she said she’d made,” Gideon added. “But with that woman, you never know,” he shrugged.

“I like everything,” he answered. “Anything is fine.”

“Would you like to stay with us?” Gabriel inquired, making everyone turn in his direction. Cecily seemed to glare at him, murmuring that he had just returned from a long trip and to give him a break.

“Wow, Gabriel. You didn’t even let him rest. You don’t have to respond now, Jesse. And, by the way, that offer also stands on my part,” Gideon said.

“Gideon!” Gabriel huffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Please, do not argue over me, Mr. Lightwood. I do not wish to be the cause of your discussion,” Jesse replied solemnly, silencing everyone.

“Don’t worry, no one is arguing in this room,” Sophie said. “They always bicker like that.”

“Yes, we do,” Gabriel said, crossing his arms on his chest. “And we’re also both very serious about this offer. Promise you’ll think about it? Do not feel pressured.”

“Yes, Jesse. Take your time choosing between me and uncle Gabriel. Or choose no one, for that matter. Just know that we are here for you.”

“Thank you,” he simply answered, not being able to say much more. He knew that they both meant it, and he was grateful. He couldn’t have put into words if he tried to. But it was too much for a day. Jesse managed the unpteenth smile of the night. He never thought he would smile so much in one day, that he’d feel his jaw hurt. Was this what it felt like to be loved by your family?

“I’m so tired, I guess I’m going to bed,” Lucie said, standing up from the spot next to his. She probably understood that he was done for the night, and wanted to be alone.

Everyone stood up, and said goodbye. Jesse greeted everyone with formality. His uncles and aunts didn’t tell him to call them by their names. They probably comprehended that he needed time, that this was too sudden, and they had never seen each other. They were strangers in his eyes, even if he didn’t seem to be a stranger to them.

Uncle Gabriel told them he would tell Will or Tessa that they were going, and that they were alone in the drawing room. Jesse didn’t think his uncle knew about their relationship, but perhaps he suspected there was something. He was still a stranger in there, a stranger in the same room as an unmarried woman.

“It was easier, when I could fade. Whenever I didn’t want to talk anymore,” Jesse said, when everyone left. “I could just disappear.”

Lucie nodded, sitting down on the sofa again. He followed her. “Do you miss it?”

“Being a ghost? No, Lucie, no,” he replied with confidence, caressing her cheek. “But I have to admit, all of this,” he shook his head. “Thank you for making them go.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know they would come, or else I would have told them to go. I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“It’s not your fault. Not theirs, either. I just - feel. I felt their interest, their fondness of me. And it,” he sighed. “And I don’t know if I deserve it. It is odd. Being loved by someone. Receiving affection from people who share my blood, even if we never met before.”

“Everyone deserves love,” she said.

At that, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears came freely. They marred his face with water and salt, something he’d never thought he’d feel again on his skin. Lucie opened her arms, letting his head settle on her shoulder. His hand grabbed one of hers, while her other hand brushed the side of his arm to soothe him. She let him weep in silence until he had enough. And in that moment, Jesse felt very lucky to be so loved and understood.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale

#tsc #tlh #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #will herondale #cecily herondale #sophie collins #tessa gray #chain of gold #chain of iron #tsc fanfiction #tweety.writes #blackdale

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adrishya · 4 years ago

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Tiberius Blackthorn Black Volume of the Dead (Crackpot) Theories

This post contains SPOILERS from The Dark Artifices Series by Cassandra Clare! These theories aren’t meant to be taken too seriously, and I welcome other opinions and evidence to dispute this whole thing.

My Question: Did Ty have ideas for performing necromancy before Livvy’s death?

So there was something about the entire necromancy plotline throughout QoAaD that didn’t quite make sense to me. Let me start at the beginning.

So at the very beginning of QoAaD, Ty is unconscious.

“The floor of the Hall was a mass of rushing figures; among them Emma glimpsed Mark, carrying an unconscious Ty out of the hall, shouldering other Nephilim aside as he went.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1)Death Looks Down, pg. 3-4

He’s being carried out the hall by Mark. So we can confirm this.

Later on, when Helen comes to check on Dru, Dru wants to know how Ty is.

“I want to know how Ty is.”

“He’s asleep,” said Helen. “The Silent Brothers gave him a sedative potion, and Mark’s sitting with him. Do you want to sit with him too?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Death Looks Down, pg. 9

Helen says that Ty is asleep, and that the Silent Brothers gave him a sedative potion. This confirms that Ty is truly knocked out.

Another passage to note:

“[Helen] was terrified of what would happen when [Ty] woke up. He’d fainted in the Council Hall, and Mark had carried him to the Brothers, who were already in the Gard. They examined him in eerie silence and stated that physically he was healthy, but they would give him herbs that would keep him sleeping.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Darkness Looks Down, pg. 9

So nowhere during this does Ty ever wake up. Not even once.

During the scene where Diana and Kit are with Ty, Diana glimpses Ty’s book that Kit sets next to him.

“...and Diana caught a glimpse of the title embossed in gold across the cover and realized that even her numb heart could twinge with pain.”

The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Death Looks Down, pg. 12

Now, this could just be foreshadowing on Cassandra Clare’s part about Ty’s plan for raising Livvy from the dead, but why would Ty choose The Return of Sherlock Holmes out of all the Sherlock Holmes volumes from the London Institute, considering that fact that he had picked it when Livvy was still alive? It just seems...off. But perhaps we could just dismiss it as that being Ty’s favorite volume. But I feel it is important to note that there are other family members of Ty that aren’t alive even while Livvy was, though, such as his parents. Moving on...

“Ty woke up suddenly, like someone exploding through the surface of water, gasping for air.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 32

So Ty’s finally awake! Note that this is the first time he is awake after Livvy’s death.

“[Kit] had braced himself for Ty’s disappointment, but Ty only looked at him with wide gray eyes. “My bag,” Ty said. “Where is it? Is it over there?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 32

So Ty looks for his duffel bag immediately after waking up. Well, perhaps not immediately. First he asks whether Kit is Jules. But still, he asks for his duffel bag so quickly after he woke up.

“My duffel bag,” Ty said. There was definite strain in his voice. “Over there-I need it.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 33

So he really needs his duffel bag. He’s looking for something. His phone

Another passage to note:

“[Kit] was overwhelmed by the desire to drop down to his knees and grab Ty’s hands, and hold him the way he had on the rooftop in London when Livvy had been hurt.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 33

Ignoring the fact that Kit literally had an overwhelming desire to grab Ty’s hands and hold him, the last time Livvy was hurt in London is mentioned. During that time, it’s very much possible that Ty thought Livvy would possibly die then. He did mention that he wanted to be parabatai with Livvy, as that would have healed Livvy faster. But what if once he had possession of the pictures of the Black Volume afterwards, he started to consider necromancy as a backup plan? Anyway.

“I’ll get Helen,” [Kit] said finally. “She can tell you-what happened-”

“I know what happened.” Ty said. He had located his phone, in the bottom of the bag. The tension had left his body; his relief was clear.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

So Ty knows what happened. Ty locates his phone. He’s relieved. Pictures of the pages of The Black Volume of the Dead are on his phone so he knows the ritual to bring Livvy back from the dead

Okay, so Ty has just woken up. He hasn’t even opened his phone. So I have to speculate here that he remembers that the Black Volume of the Dead is literally on his phone. But did he...formulate his plan to use it to raise Livvy that fast? We could put this down to the fact that he’s really good at making plans, and the fact that he’s immersed himself into the whole investigation with necromancy and Annabel, so he had the plan in his mind right as he woke up. But let’s further investigate this.

“I’m going back to sleep now,” Ty said. “There are drugs in my system. I can feel them.” He didn’t sound pleased.

“Should I stay?” Kit said. Ty had tossed the duffel bat onto the floor and lain back on this pillow. He was gripping the phone in his right hand, so tightly that his knuckles were white, but otherwise he showed no recognizable signs of distress.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

So...he definitely remembers that the Black Volume is on his phone. He still hasn’t opened his phone, though. And he’s going back to sleep.

“Yes, I’d rather you did.” [Ty] said. “And go to sleep if you want. I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

I definitely did not add this part in because Ty literally says he wants Kit to stay so we confirm that Ty is asleep again. Maybe he’s thinking to himself and not completely knocked out, but we can say with certainty that he hasn’t looked through his phone yet. Not once. Let’s continue...

Emma gets out of bed very early in the morning to check on Ty after she hears Julian coming back into the Institute and heading to his bedroom.

“[Emma]’d gotten up then and gone to check on Ty, who was still asleep, Kit beside him.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 42

So Ty is asleep when Emma checks on him.

Afterwards, when Emma goes back to bed, and wakes up later. (I also want to note that the funeral is set to be at noon.)

Now, here’s a line from Diana as Ty comes downstairs.

“[Diana]’d sat with Ty much of the night as he slept, a dead, silent, unmoving sleep.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 45

So I believe she is referencing this night that Ty went to sleep, not the time where he was sedated by the Silent Brothers. This means he most likely didn’t wake up. He really was asleep. And again, he never opened his phone to even look at the pictures of the Black Volume. At least not that we saw.

We don’t get any more mentions of the phone until this exchange during the funeral:

“Do you still have...the phone?” Kit asked Ty, and immediately felt like an idiot. Who went up to someone’s twin sister’s funeral and asked them if they had their phone? Especially when there was no signal anywhere in Idris. “I mean. Not that you can call. Anyone.”

“There’s one phone in Idris that works. It’s in the Consul’s office,” said Ty.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 51

Very interesting Ty never actually answered the question so Kit doesn’t seem to see Ty’s phone on him. This doesn’t mean that Ty definitely doesn’t have it with him, just that he’s probably not using it at the moment.

“It’s not the phone signal I need,” said Ty. “It’s the photos on the phone.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 51

So at this point he knows he needs those photos. He hasn’t looked at them yet since Livvy died, as far as we know. But he knows they are there.

So we also get this little tidbit:

“On the way down from the city, [Ty] had peppered Julian with questions:...Did they take her necklace?....”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 56

I think this specific question that Ty asks is a nod to Ty needing Livvy’s locket for the ritual. But how did he know? We didn’t get a reference to him looking through those pictures on his phone. Do we have to assume it happened, or did it never happen?

Let me now focus on this exchange between Kit and Ty.

“I [climbed the pyre] to get this,” Ty said, and put a hand to his throat. Kit recognized the gold chain and the slim disk of metal attached to it: Livvy’s locket....”

...“Everybody is supposed to be sad. But that’s because they accept Livvy is dead. But I don’t. I don’t accept it.”

“What?”

“I’m going to get her back.” said Ty.

Kit sat down heavily on the windowsill. “How are you going to do that?”

Ty let go of the necklace and took his phone out of his pocket. “These were on Julian’s phone,” he said. “He took them when he was in the library with Annabel. They’re photos of the pages of the Black Volume of the Dead.”

“When did you get these?” Kit knew texting didn’t work in Idris. “Does Julian know you have them?”

“I set up his phone so it would back up to mine. I guess he didn’t realize. Then when I saw these in London, I-” Ty gave Kit a worried look. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75

Okay, what did you do when you saw them in London, Ty? Did you perhaps read through every single page? Read about the specific ritual in detail you needed to raise someone from the dead? I don’t think he’s memorized anything given that he needs those photos, but I speculate he’s read The Black Volume, or the parts he needs, intensively. It certainly seems like a possibility at this point, given how quickly Ty came up with the plan. But why? Purely for investigative purposes? Or is there something else? We still don’t know what he did after he saw the pictures. Perhaps it was a throwaway sentence? I doubt it was a throwaway sentence, though. And he certainly read about the rituals enough to know he needed Livvy’s locket.

Another thing to note: The Black Volume contains much more than just necromantic spells, but Ty specifically seems to have read the most about necromancy. They already know how Malcolm raised Annabel...so why was Ty reading about necromantic rituals in particular? Did he just find the topic interesting, or is there another reason? I’m also not sure how he managed to set up Julian’s phone so it backed up to his but I suck at technology so

Also a tidbit from Kit I find rather interesting when Kit agrees to come sit down next to Ty to see the pictures:

“It never crossed [Kit’s] mind that Ty was lying or wrong, and he didn’t seem to be either.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75

I feel like Kit is a bit biased when it comes to Ty, given that he’s very much in love with him so I just find the whole “Julian’s phone is backed up to mine” explanation a bit too convenient. I don’t want to think that Ty lied to Kit, but what if he wasn’t saying the entire truth? This is just speculation, though. Ty most likely said the truth because I can’t really think of another explanation as to how he has those photos, and I just can’t wrap my head around technology. But I still feel like there’s something else that Ty has done that we do not know, since we’re never actually given his point of view.

“This is the most powerful spell book for bringing back the dead that’s ever existed,” [Ty] said. “That’s why it didn’t matter if they burned Livvy’s body. With spells like these, she can be brought back whole no matter what happened to her, no matter how long-” He broke off with a shuddering breath. “But I don’t want to wait. I want to start as soon as we get back to Los Angeles.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75-76

No matter how long? Interesting that he mentions that. Ty could even have been considering bringing other people back, people who had been dead for longer...Parents?

“Didn’t Malcolm kill a lot of people to bring Annabel back?” said Kit.

“Correlation, not causation, Watson,” said Ty. “The simplest way to do necromancy is with death energy. Life for death, basically. But there are other sources of energy. I would never kill anyone.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 76

So this could just be Cassandra Clare info-dumping about the Black Volume through Ty. But there can only be one explanation as to how Ty knows so much about necromancy if it’s been such a short time since Livvy died, and he was asleep for a lot of the time. He has to have been researching about it by reading the Black Volume intensively beforehand. And why would he want to know so much about the different ways to bring people back from the dead? Why would he be reading about these rituals while Livvy is still alive? Perhaps just for investigative purposes, or he simply found it interesting, but I speculate that there could be deeper reasons.

And now for the coherent (crackpot) theories:

Theory 1: Ty was reading the Black Volumes rituals for raising people from the dead after he saw the pictures, remembering when Livvy nearly died, so he would be prepared if she actually died. Yes, he did decide he wanted to be parabatai with her so that she would heal faster if she ever got hurt again, but he could have had a backup plan of performing a necromantic ritual if she died, after he saw and read through those backed up photos of the Black Volume from Julian’s phone. It would explain how he knew what he was going to do right when he woke. It was because he had already planned everything out.

Theory 2: Ty was thinking of trying to raise his parents from the dead, or one of his parents. He thought that if he did, they could run the Institute instead of Julian. (In LoS, Kit, Ty, and Livvy find out that Julian had been running the Los Angeles Institute the whole time.) After Livvy died, he used that knowledge of how to raise someone from the dead that he had learned from the Black Volume and applied it to Livvy. This theory is far fetched, but I just wanted to add it in here.

Theory 3: I’m completely grasping at straws here with my previous theories, and Ty knows so much about necromancy simply because he was researching about how Malcolm Fade brought back Annabel. There is no deeper reason, and Ty was just simply reading the Black Volume from the pictures he had in his possession for research purposes, and out of his own interest. He came up with the plan for raising Livvy quickly, due to all his research and his affinity for plan making.

(And one thing- If Ty had been learning about the rituals in the Black Volume of the Dead and finding out so much information when he realized he had those pictures, then it doesn’t really matter if he threw his phone in the ocean. The information is in his head. This could be highly significant in TWP, since Ty has this knowledge that could potentially put him in danger.)

So what do you guys think? Let me know if there’s anything you wanna add to these theories, or if you have your own theory, or if you have evidence and opinions that dispute this whole thing:)

Also right now I only have a copy of Queen of Air and Darkness that I impulsively checked out from the library, so any information that didn’t come from QoAaD was found by me obsessively perusing the wiki pages

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thechangeling · 4 years ago

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Be wise enough to wonder. Be brave and let it go.

Mark had no idea what time it was when he was woken up by the sound of his daughter crying. He heard an exhausted groan beside him as Cristina moved to pull herself up. Mark put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"No it's alright," he whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep. "I'll go."

Two months ago Cristina had given birth to their first daughter. Her name was Gianna She was the biological product of Kieran and Cristina with her pointy ears and blue hair that changed with her moods, and Tina's chestnut coloured eyes and copper skin. But the trio fully considered her to be theirs. Blood was unimportant.

Mark was half asleep as he stumbled his way down to the room they had set up Gianna's crib in. He missed Kieran and he knew Cristina did as well. Kier was currently stuck in Faerie with his royal responsibilities. Cristina and Mark were visiting the LA institute to help with a recent uptake in demon activity around the area. It was amazing to see his siblings again (minus Ty, he was in Devon visiting Kit since the two of them were now dating long distance.) However he knew it was strange for Gigi to be sleeping in an unfamiliar environment.

Hence lots of crying.

Mark heard his daughter's crying getting softer as he came to the doorway. He could also hear another voice, cooing to her, calming her down. As he got closer he could see it was Helen. Mark smiled at the sight of his big sister gently rocking his daughter in her arms.

"Thank you" he whispered, trying not to startle her or wake Gianna. Helen was wearing her sleep clothes, with her hair tied back. There were also very prominent dark circles under her eyes.

"You should get some rest" Mark said as forcefully as he could without raising his voice. "Seriously you look exhausted Len, hand her over and he back to bed." Helen just gave him a stern look. The one that she used to use when he was trying to sneak extra cookies as a kid, or the first time she caught him trying to come home past curfew after being out at a downworlder party that he was way too young for.

The funny thing was that even though Helen had started calling Eleanor "mom" around the age of 8, Mark had never been able to do it. It had absolutely nothing to do with an attachment to his birth mother. He barely remembered her. Maybe it was because he had always had someone looking out for him since day one, and that person wasn't Nerissa or Eleanor.

And it certainly wasn't his father.

I think you're punishing yourself, is what Helen had told him one night. You're punishing yourself for being different, so you won't let yourself get attached.

Helen placed Gigi back in her crib and put her hands on Mark's shoulders. "Sweetheart you are more exhausted then I am" she reprimanded him gently. "You and Cristina both need help and I'm more than happy to do it." Mark put his hand over hers, gripping onto Helen to avoid passing out.

"She has Kieran too remember?" He insisted firmly. "Just because he isn't here right now doesn't mean that he's not her dad too." Helen's eyes widened.

"Oh no! No that wasn't what I was saying at all." She said frantically. Her voice was starting to slur a little like she was drunk. She really needed to go to sleep. "I was just trying to be useful you know? Like I always used to when we were younger."

Mark knew what she was referring to. When the twins were born, in order to help out Eleanor and their dad, Mark and Helen starting taking care of them so their parents could get more sleep. Julian was still very young, only two, so it was up to them as the older siblings to step up.

Livvy was a relatively easy baby. She cried when she was hungry or needed changing, and then she was fine. She was pretty good at sleeping through most of the night as well. Ty on the other hand was not. When he was drinking formula from the bottle he would only ever take a little and then refuse to eat any more. This lead to him always being hungry half an hour later and as a result, not sleeping for very long.

The family would take shifts when looking after the twins to avoid being too exhausted. But there were some nights where Ty would just refuse to sleep and nobody knew why. Eleanor wanted to go to the silent brothers, but thankfully Helen had talked her out of it.

He's just different, she had said. It's fine, we will figure it out.

At a certain point Andrew had just refused to try, and Helen and Mark had to step in. Unfortunately these were bad habits of Ty's that seemed to have carried over into adulthood. But at least now he could get up and feed himself at 2 in the morning.

Mark shook himself out of his stupor. "No it's ok. I'm sorry. I just worry about you Len" he murmured. Helen shot him a tired smile. "And I you, brother" she replied, slipping into a very fae way of speaking. Mark turned to look at his little girl, who was still sleeping. Thank the angel.

Thank the gods, his brain supplied.

It was interesting thinking about the way she would grow up. It would be so different from Mark and Helen. Gianna had access to Unseelie culture through Kieran, as well as the privilege of being raised by a full blooded faerie. She was already being read fae stories (accurate ones) and sung fae lullabies. She would be taught fae languages by Kieran and Cristina mostly, because as Kieran loved to point out, he was terrible with languages. She would also be taught Spanish and English when she was older.

She would be raised as a shadowhunter and as a faerie in a better, more understanding world that he was trying to help build. Mark couldn't help but be a little envious of her.

He turned back to Helen who hadn't left, but had sat down on the floor, bracing her back against the wall. He sat down beside her.

"Hey" he whispered roughly. "Do you ever feel like we were robbed?"

Helen looked up at him slightly dazed. Her Blackthorn blue-green eyes were starting to glaze over. "Huh?" She muttered sleepily. Helen rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat, trying again. "What do you mean exactly?"

Mark sighed as he slowly felt all of the thoughts and feelings he usually tried to keep buried. He really didn't want to deal with them. Because if he delt with them then he would have to acknowledge what happened, and acknowledging it made it real.

Something that Magnus always said was that you had to go through the pain and not around it, because going through it was the only way to get over it.

Mark took a deep breath and looked Helen in the eye. "I mean think about it. From the moment we arrived at this institute, our father always talked about how evil and wicked and manipulative our mother was. And yes, I would argue from the sound of things he was probably right, but I was four years old and she was the only faerie I had ever known. So it seemed as if everyone around was establishing a baseline of, Faeries. Wicked. Manipulative. Cannot be trusted.

Helen shook her head "but that's not-" Mark interrupted her. "I'm sorry but I'm not done." Helen sighed and looked to be fighting the urge to roll her eyes, but she didn't protest. "Ok fine. Go."

Mark continued. "And the thing is we were bombarded with that information all our lives. From our instructors, from our father, from our peers. So eventually I think you and I started to believe it Len! I think we started to think of ourselves as evil, and in order to not be evil we had to distance ourselves from being fae as much as possible." Mark's voice was beginning to shake.

Helen shook her head. "No I don't think it was that so much as we were trying to prove that we were real shadowhunters. Me personally, I didnt want to be considered a downworlder because I'm not, I'm a shadowhunter. " Helen explained, but her voice sounded unsure. "I didnt want to be treated differently."

Mark chuckled humorously. "But don't you see? We are different! That is precisely my point, and everyone made us feel ashamed of that. Remember how you used to braid your hair like a faerie until girls started making fun of you and trying to pull it out? And then you started wearing your hair to cover your ears. Did you honestly expect me to believe that you preferred the style, sister?" Mark was trying to keep his voice lowered but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Helen was silent. There was a pause where neither sibling spoke and then Helen's defeated voice. "I don't want to talk about this Mark." He felt a pang of guilt.

"I know. Forgive me please, it was not my intention to upset you." He spoke elegantly. Helen laughed softly. "You know it's weird how much it comforts me, hearing you talk like that" she said.

Mark smiled sadly at her. "But that's exactly my point Helen. I mean think about it? How much did we give up or refuse to pursue just because we were scared? You know I've been reading far stories to Gianna and some of them are actually really incredible. There are stories about brave female warriors who go on adventures to save beautiful princesses and stories of people who couldn't decide which one if their suitors they liked best, so they just chose them all. They are stories about people like us, written for people like us." Mark could feel himself beginning to cry .

Helen reached over silently and placed her hand on his to comfort him. She looked like she was holding back tears as well.

"Imagine" Mark whispered brokenly, tears running down his cheeks. "Imagine what it would have been like if we read stories like those when we were younger.

Helen closed her eyes, trying to block out tears. "We were trying to keep ourselves safe" she whispered. "It was self preservation."

"It was assimilation" Mark said firmly. "And that really wasn't fair." Helen let out a harsh breath.

"And it didn't even do any good," Mark continued. "They still kicked us out."

Helen laughed in spite of the situation. Then let they weight of the conversation wash over them both, soaking them in despair and self pity.

Helen finally broke the silence.

"You know, she began, Magnus Bane loves to share stories about past shadowhunters in a more accurate way because the Clave's records are usually very white and straight washed, and when Aline and I mentioned potentially adopting a child from abroad, he told us a story about this one shadowhunter Ariadne Bridgestock. Apparently she was a lesbian and in a relationship with Anna Lightwood but she was also originally from India. Her parents adopted her and brought her back to England."

Mark shrugged "So? There's nothing inherently wrong with that." Helen gave him another look.

"Well yeah, but the problem was they didn't let her retain anything from her culture and they didn't give her the opportunity to branch out and learn more. They stripped her of all of that and basically taught her to behave like the typical white British girl." Helen readjusted her position, straightening out her back. "He wanted to make sure that if we ended up with a child who had a different cultural background, we would understand the importance of nurturing that connection" she explained.

Mark nodded "Well yes, but Aline would never do anything like that given how important her culture is to her." Helen was silent for a moment.

"Yeah I know. It's just that I'm not exactly the poster girl for self love and acceptance now am I? She said I'm a self pitying tone.

Mark shook his head. "It's not really the same thing though Len" he reasoned.

"No I know that, but it's similar" she mumbled, tiredness seeping into her tone. "Anyways, that's why I'm so happy Gigi has you and Kieran." Helen finally stood up "Especially you. When she feels like her mom is too much of a shadowhunter to get it, and her dad is too much of a faerie to get it, she has her papa to understand her." Helen said wistfully with a smile.

She extended her hand to Mark and pulled him to his feet. They both stared at Gianna who was moving around slightly in her sleep. "Yeah she will be fine" Helen mused softly. "She's got Cristina to teach her spanish and Kieran to teach her faerie. You can tell her stories about the wild hunt and Cristina can tell her stories about living in Mexico." Helen paused, her expression looking a little sad. "Her life is going to be so different from ours."

Mark felt another pang in his chest as well as the boiling of anger beneath his skin.

"How do we get past this?" He whispered. "How do we deal with this Helen? This anger?"

Helen was silent for a moment. Mark turned to face her and noticed she was shaking slightly. Helen gulped and looked up at him.

"We can't feel sorry for ourselves. That gets us nowhere. We need to confront it and then we need to find away to move past it," she said determinedly. "We need to be brave enough to let it go. We can't change the past but what we can do is try and change the way we approach this now. I know it's hard but we can do it." Helen smiled at him "As long as we have each others backs we can get through this."

Mark nodded. "I know. You're right. I want to keep moving forward. I want to learn more, discover more. I want to figure out who I really am." Mark spoke steadily. "The things that happened when we were younger were horrible," he felt his voice breaking again. "It's painful, but we can't just stay on our knees. We have to move on or it'll consume us."

Mark took Helen into his arms and hugged her tightly. She sniffled lightly, wrapping her arms around him. Mark let out a sigh.

"It's ok," he whispered. "I've got you, you're not alone."

You are not the only.

Be wise enough to wonder, be brave and let it go.

Nothing is everlasting.

Have mercy on my soul.

#tda #the dark artifices #tsc #helen blackthorn #mark blackthorn #kierarktina children #kierarktina #kaitlin'swriting

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julieandthefandoms · 4 years ago

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Best Day Of Our Lives

A Jemma wedding fic featuring a Kitty reunion, married with children Kierartina, and Haline being cute together. It can also be found here on AO3 :)

Also, a thank you to Kaitlin, @ineedadrinkorsleep, for allowing me to use her list of Kierartina baby names, you’re amazing!

Tagging @katie33333 @tessagraycarstairs @zafirafox4636 @fairchild-squad @lily-chen-deserves-better @ineedadrinkorsleep @older-brother-kit because I have a tag list now!

Julian straightened the collar of the suit. It was bright in shade, a thing of fire and gold. It was the kind of fire so bright it almost seemed to hold no color at all, leaving the shimmering runes custom to shadowhunter weddings to almost compete with the brightness of it. It was blinding, and Julian could admire the craftsmanship of the suit, tailored to near perfection. Julian could care less about the flashiness of the suit though. It wouldn’t matter whether he were wearing jeans, or even were covered in paint splatters. What mattered was that he was getting married to his best friend, Emma Carstairs.

For the longest time, he was sure he wouldn’t have this opportunity. He had thought he had sealed his fate on that day in Idris. The day after the Dark War, when he had asked the person he loved to be his parabatai. He was prepared to live a life of unrequited love, but by some stroke of luck, he was getting married to her. The bond had been broken, and they could be together. He could be happy.

A pang went through him as he thought back to those days, back when Livvy was still with them. She would've been wild with excitement to be there, to have planned it to perfection. Julian was almost surprised that the pain hadn’t dwindled over time, but there was still an ache as he thought of her. The feeling of loss never truly fades. He had enough space in his heart to love Emma, while still hurting from the loss of his sister.

Julian tugged at the bottom of the jacket once more.

“You look lovely, Jules.” He turned to spot his sister, Helen Penhallow Blackthorn, his suggenes, leaning against the doorframe, a bright smile on her face. She herself was dressed in a flowing gown barely brushing against the top of the floor. “We should probably get going though, you wouldn’t want to be late to your own wedding.”

~^*^~

Kit Herondale should have known better. It was bound to happen really, he was definitely pushing his luck after about the second or third wedding he’d been to, but he hadn’t expected it to be so sudden. It had all started earlier that year, when virtually every friend of Jem and Tessa’s had collectively decided to destroy Kit’s life, a simple one of sneaking Mina extra cookies and avoiding his problems, by forcing him to face all his problems at their weddings. And currently, he was faced with the person he was avoiding most.

Kit had somehow managed to skate by during most of the weddings though. Simon and Isabelle’s was first, Kit having managed to stay as close to the crowd as possible, and silently slipping away after the main portion of the ceremony to reduce his chances of getting involved in a rather awkward discussion. Only a few months had passed before Clary and Jace got married as well, Kit glimpsing a head of dark hair before bolting as soon as he could, claiming that he had to take care of Mina. In fact, what was doing was hiding in the library, pouring his heart out to his little sister.

“You’d think after 3 years my heart would stop beating so rapidly that I became concerned about my own health, but no,” Kit glanced at Mina, who was currently laughing at him, eyes half shut from joy.

She let out another giggle.

“How dare you find joy in my pain?” he said, dramatically laying a hand on his head and leaning back against the bookshelf, though the smile illuminating his face revealed his true intentions. “How can I go on now, betrayed by my own sister?”

Kit smiled at the thought.

Kieran, Mark, and Cristina’s wedding had been somewhat more challenging, him having been caught behind a huge oak tree by none other than Livvy Blackthorn, but he had somehow managed to convince her to tell no one, i.e. her twin brother, a.k.a. the person Kit was trying so desperately to avoid.

“Please, Livvy, don’t tell him I’m here,” Kit was pleading now, already on his knees, gazing up at the ghost above him.

Livvy rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I want you to do this on your terms. Remember though, my ship must be canon!”

“Your what?!-”

And that finally brought them up to this wedding, Emma and Julian’s to be more specific. Having been related to, however distant that relation may be, the bride had seemingly got the Herondale/Gray/Carstairs family (or as Kit liked to call it, the Herongraystairs family) a one way ticket to the wedding, and consequently, Kit facing the person he was dreading to meet again.

It had been going relatively well, he’d thought, the ceremony about to begin, and Kit quietly tucked into a corner. That was until Mina dragged him towards the table piled high with drinks, having spotted Max Lightwood-Bane, Rafael Lightwood-Bane, Tavvy Blackthorn, Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales, and Nico Blackthorn-Rosales (Cristina, Mark, and Kieran had Gianna and Nico a year before being married, and Mina instantly fell for them, claiming that they were her “best fwends”) playing near there, and Kit had thought maybe a drink or two wouldn’t hurt. He was severely wrong of course as Kit had failed to notice one head of dark hair standing not far from that very table.

Kit blamed Mina’s doe eyes, and his ability to fall for them instantly.

After his first drink, a voice had made Kit turn, causing him to end up where he was currently, nearly on the floor.

“Hello. I’d like to talk to you.”

~*^*~

Julian was bubbling with joy, a smile brightening his face as he was led to a platform, Helen by his side. He stopped at the top of the steps, turning to give Helen an appreciative nod and a smile. Julian took a sharp inhale as Emma walked around the corner, Cristina lending her off to the stage. All thoughts left him. She was breathtaking, wrapped in a gold silk gown that hugged her waist before flaring down to the ground. A sheer overlay on the silk skirt caught the brightness of the witchlight, complimenting the gold in her hair.

But it wasn’t only gold, was it? It was a beautiful mix of cadmium yellows, naples yellows, golds, yellow ochres.

She was beautiful, and Julian couldn’t help but think that he was the luckiest person in the world. As Emma reached the platform, she leaned in, a grin plastered on her face.

“I know, I look stunning.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a playful manner.

Julian shot back a nod. “It is your wedding, I’d expect no less.”

And with that, the ceremony began, Brother Enoch reciting a few words, before steles appeared in their hand. It passed by in a blur, and before Julian knew it, they were kissing. Time seemed to still, Julian thought he heard a crash somewhere in the crowd, a flash of blond hair blurring by the table, but he paid no attention to it. The room melted away, it was as though they, Emma and Julian, were the only two people in the room. It was perfect.

~*^*~

“HOLY-” Kit choked on his drink. He had forgotten how graceful shadowhunters were, how easily they could move without alerting anyone surrounding them. Unfortunately, that shadowhunter grace had apparently skipped a generation because Kit found himself clutching at the table for support, having nearly fallen from shock.

“Are you alright?” It was none other than Tiberius Nero Blackthorn, his arm outstretched. He was looking at him, and at that moment, all rational thought left him. He said something roughly equivalent to an audible keysmash before clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Kit brushed himself off, standing up as though nothing had happened. If you pretend to be confident, it won’t be long until you begin to feel confident as well. For the first time since the wedding fiasco began, he actually looked at Ty. He was taller now, Kit was surprised to see, though he supposed he shouldn’t have. Three years did a lot to change someone, he supposed, but those eyes were the same. A beautiful yet deadly storm churning above a sea. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Kit leaned against the table once more, this time a bit more suave and cool, and less panicky than the first.

“Why are you avoiding me?” It was a simple question, clear as day. Kit choked up a bit. “And why did you leave?”

All of a sudden, he was fifteen again, doing anything he could for Ty, the beautiful shadowhunter that had held a knife to his throat. The nephilim he would have done anything for. Years of suppressing his emotions didn’t prepare Kit for this moment, he doubted anything could have. Ty looked calm enough, but his hands were frantically twisting and unknotting a ball of pipe cleaners. He was nervous, Kit knew it, and so Kit blurted it out. He never could have told Ty a lie, even if he wanted to. Even after three years.

“Because I was hurt, and I was running away from what had happened,” Kit took a deep breath, as Ty nodded, understanding it. Kit, suspecting he was going to turn away, proceeded to continue talking, hoping to get a laugh, a smile, anything out of Ty. “Tessa thinks it was the Herondale dramatics though.”

Kit didn’t add the second part of what she said, “Running away from the person you love ‘for their own good’ is alarmingly common among Herondales,” but Ty let out a laugh, bright and brilliant, so it was a win in Kit’s book.

It was an amazing laugh, low and lovely, beautiful to hear.

“Tessa knows Herondales well.”

“She does.”

The silence stretched on for a moment, though it was a comfortable one. A silence in which both parties simply enjoyed the presence of the other.

The soft piano finally registered in Kit’s mind. A crazy idea formed in his head, one his fifteen year old self would banish to the darkest corners of his brain.

“May I have this dance?”

Turned out he wasn’t the only one to have that idea, Kit thought as he accepted Ty’s hand. An impish grin spread across Kit’s face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

~*^*~

Soft music began playing from the piano in the corner, Jace Herondale shooting a wink at Helen as she rolled her eyes at his antics. A smile rested upon her face, as Helen looked at her brother and Emma, both beaming joy, foreheads together as they swayed to the music. It was so genuine, and beautiful, she couldn’t stop grinning even if she wanted to. She’d already missed so much of her family’s life, exiled on Wrangel Island, that she was glad to be here, sharing this moment with them.

And how lovely it was, gold decorations pinned to the walls, tables lined with dishes and drinks. Kieran, Mark, and Cristina were on the sides, cooing at their third child, Emelia, an adorable baby girl born only a few months ago. Helen spotted Ty dancing with Kit by the drink table, both blissfully unaware of the children bouncing about close to them. Dru was at the center of the ballroom with Jaime Rosales, gown flaring as she was spun.

Aline leaned into her, resting her head upon Helen’s shoulder. She was stunning, in a wine red gown with glittering gold accents, dark hair brushing against her back. Helen couldn’t stop but think about how lucky she was, to have someone so beautiful, so wonderful.

“Young love, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Her wife was most certainly correct, and Helen agreed wholeheartedly.

“It really is.”

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merry-thieves · 4 years ago

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THL Theory: Visions and other notable things

This is a collection of all the visions (there were a lot) and other fascinating things in Chain of Gold to which I’m trying to find answers to.

James’s dream: In his dream, James is on the roof of the institute and has black wings, Yet then he sees that those are not his wings but belong a creature on his back. This creature is digging its claws into his back and he can feel the pain. The monster wears pale grey rags but James isn’t able to see its face. Then suddenly there is the light from Cortana around him and Cordelia cuts the monster in half. I’m pretty sure that this dream was a reaction to the Grace taking her bracelet back. The monster could be her or the bracelet’s spell. And without being under Grace’s spell, James is able to love Cordelia again hence her appearance. But it’s also possible that Cortana’s presence means that it can destroy Grace’s spell on James which would be quite useful in my opinion.

Cortana (& Cordelia): Throughout Chain of Gold, James remarked numerous times that he was able to see Cortana (and also Cordelia’s hair when she was wielding Cortana) when he was in the Shadow realm. I’m really not quite sure what this is going on with the weapons Wayland the Smith made but they are all weirdly powerful swords. Even Princes of Hell are and the Riders were afraid of it. So maybe we will finally get some answers about that infamous smith.

Lucie’s vision: At the same time that Belial showed James his sister, Lucie saw James in Belphegor’s realm. Here it’s clear what she saw but not why since I don’t think Belial intended to show Lucie her brother’s location at that moment. So, somehow Lucie reacted to Belial’s power when he used it “on her”. This could be due to their family-relation or it’s also possible that it’s tied to Lucie’s powers.

Cordelia’s vision: While Cordelia travelled to Belphegor’s realm she had this weird vision and I have no idea why. So, she saw a beach with a bleeding moon which would indicate that this is Thule. Furthermore, she saw an underground cave which could be the cave near the LA institute, in whatever world, or maybe a cave in Cornwall. In addition to that, she saw citadel on a hill which I thought is the Citadel of the Iron Sisters since it seems like it’s going to play an important role in the series with Tatiana there. So, I’m wondering if Belial’s plans have something to do with the Iron Sisters. The last thing she saw was a demon rising before a watchtower. This I’m not sure what it means but the watchtower could be in Alicante or maybe in a completely different dimension. We’ll have to see.

clocks in Blackthorn Manor: So the clocks in Blackthorn Manor all stopped at twenty to nine, according to Lucie. I think the simplest theory is that this is the time of Jesse’s death which would indicate a larger significance to it (In my other theories I discuss exactly this).

blond ghost: In the ballroom of Chiswick House, Lucie saw a pale blond ghost that resembled someone Lucie knew. The most obvious answer is that this was the ghost of Nate. He was blond and attended to Benedict Lightwood’s parties when he was alive. Yet, in my opinion at least, Nate never really resembled Tessa in any way that Lucie who has never seen Nate before could say that this is her mother’s adoptive brother. Also, if this was Nate, what is his unfinished business that keeps him in Chiswick House?

masterlist

Is there anything I missed?

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talesfromunderland · 5 years ago

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Something to Talk About.

He was dead.

Oh, he was so dead, images of all the things Julian Blackthorn would do to him flooding Kit's mind. He was going to kill him and bury his body where no one would ever find him and know what it had become of him and-

"You look as if you were going to be sick."

Kit blinked out of his thoughts to find Ty watching him, eyes narrowed with a question; and also, mostly to shield them from the unforgiving Californian sun.

They had been walking by the shoreline for a near-hour now, discussing about the new attacks and the burst of magic that had apart in recent weeks. Even with all it meant for them now, with the Blackthorns once again involved and the strange Morgenstern, Kit had found it a soothing trance to talk with Ty all about it, who just like Sherlock Holmes could detached himself from the case and treated it as seem happening to another, the effect contagious and calming to Kit's nerves.

Until, that is, when Ty asked him:

Do you want to sleep alongside me tonight?

The question had taken him so off guard that Kit trip and would eaten sand had Ty not taken hold of his shoulders.

By the Angel, the strength in those arms.

He tried, really hard, not to stare at them or let him disappointment show once Ty released him.

And he really tried to ignore the look Ty was giving him now, question still there and would be repeated if not answered quickly.

He swallowed his original respond, because Julian will hang me, and instead said, "Why do you asked that? Something happened?"

Ty just shrugged. “Not me.” He turned to Kit’s direction. “I’ve noticed you don’t sleep at night anymore. Do you have the nightmares again?”

Again, Kit tripped but righted himself before Ty could touch him.

“What- what?” he said. His laugh was nerved edge and Kit knew it. “I’m not having any nightmares, what are you talking about?” Kit was going to bolt any second now.

Ty stop his walking and faced Kit, completely and truly. He had never looked more like Julian Blackthorn before than he did then.

“Training room, the arrows,” when Kit had yawned so much, two of his arrows had missed by several feet, one landing before Mark’s feet.

“Roof, the maze,” when Diana took them to train with the heavy weapons on the roof and Kit’s maze slip from his grasp, down the side of the building, to mash one of the Arthur Blackthorn’s statues. Honestly, whose idea was the roof training and the weird statues?.

“And,” Ty continued, “the morning run.”

When they were assigned to run to the beach, and the sun and the smell became too much before darkness embraced him.

On most situations, he would been able to get away. Make a believable lie on the spot and deny any kind of interrogation until next time.

And that of course, when they didn’t even suspect the truth. Or were Ty Blackthorn.

Why couldn’t the Angel blast to smittens people when they were asked to? It was really a win-win situation.

Ty still look at him with hard eyes. "Are you trying to prove something? Overworking yourself will make you stronger to fight your mind?"

Kit winced, the words a little too close to the truth.

”Or are you trying to avoid us? Taking advantage of your nightmares so you can leave earlier, sleep and pretend we are not there, as if you never returned?” The words were filled with doubt yet Ty’s face said he considered the possibility.

Kit’s heart stuttered, along with his tongue, and it took him a whole minute to get the words out. "What?! No! I would never do that, it’s not...it’s just...”

"What?"

Oh, the Angel save him.

Kit took a deep breath. "I'm embarrassed that...that you knew of my nightmares."

He hadn’t told anyone about them, didn’t want them knowing. Coming back to the Institute had had a lot of a positive effect on him but mostly, it had been a door back in time, to the early days when his father’s murder had been fresh and so the memories.

They had come alive, his first night back.

The blood, the demons, it had been so much more vivid then his reunion with the Blackthorns the day before.

So he trained. Trained until his body begged him otherwise, until his mind couldn’t conjure emotions during unconsciousness, at which time the sun had already risen and no one was the wiser.

No one, it seemed, but Ty.

The other boy saw everything, knew and understood.

And though softened, Ty’s face held no argument.

“You are staying with me tonight.”

Kit didn’t refuse.

----

At the beginning, it was as awkward as he feared.

Kit hadn’t made plans to waltz for everyone to see him make his way to Ty’s room (least he get a knife in the back, courtesy of Julian) so he waited for everyone to leave before sneaking there.

Ty hadn’t look up from his book, having no doubt Kit would come and only acknowledged him with a small nod.

The silence had been unbearable. Even when Ty put down his book and they both laid on the bed, it was tense and awkward, making both boys stiff and slow. Kit had tried with small talk, failing miserably when there was no flow, nothing to really talk about. He started to think it had been a bad idea to come and would had left had the guilt of leaving in the night not waighitn him down.

But then Ty began talking, and it was natural and comfortable, and gave Kit pause. He talked about the stars, his voice so soft that Kit nearly missed it. He talked about the constellations, how many ancient civilizations had used them over time, whether for their gods, mark time, or return home. Kit would every now and then add something from Jem and Tessa’s old lessons, only when he remembered when his turn was to speak. Which wasn't often, considering how much he lost himself to Ty’s voice.

They stayed like that for a time, the sounds of Institute filling the silence in the room, their whispers the only other sound, a peaceful aura which made Kit smiled. He missed this, he realized. The Institute, desert and the ocean, everything it represented, specially the boy who laid beside him staring at the star-filled sky.

Those stars really can't compete with him, Kit thought. Even if they tried.

It hadn't been a mistake leaving; going to Devon, being with Jem, Tessa and Mina. They've both need the time apart, to heal, to him themselves and accept it. They've both being too young and broken to be able to do anything together but break apart and grow to hate each other. Leaving hadn't being a mistake and, for the first time in years, Kit could now both believe and accept it.

His eyes grew heavy and Kit would had started snoring right there had he not felt a shift in the blankets. For a second, he was confused until he felt it again and realized they were moving to Ty's side of the bed.

He's stealing the blankets. Kit smiled. The cheeky thief.

“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” He really couldn't keep the silly smile from his face and neither could help the way he sing sang it.

Abruptly, the sheets stopped shifting. Kit could even swear he could feel them being tuck more closely around his body. With a smirk plastered on his face, Kit let out a happy sighed before losing consciousness.

Though not before feeling a hand being settled on his chest.

The next day, after what could only had been the best sleep on his life, he awoke to the sensation of being watched. Most shadowhunters would take this as a possible threat and prepare for a battle but Kit had no such worries. He would always know the feeling of that gaze, even dead.

Indeed, the sight that greeted his eyes when he finally opened them was that of two pretty (pff, scratch that, heavenly) gray eyes that took him in, the unbruised eyes and rested face.

“What?” he said, smiling sheepishly, though extremely self-conscious.

Ty shrugged. “You slept well,” he said. Then cocked his head and added, “Your bed head is really cute.”

At that, Kit blushed furiously, muttering about leaving the room before Julian found them, finally voicing the fear of one of the eldest Blackthorn's wrath, who could think it a good idea to kill Kit or throw him with the demons; and that was if he was lucky with the wolves first.

Ty laughed, a sound so clear and pure that never failed to warm Kit's core (and filled him with the satisfaction that he was the one who made the other boy laugh like that) and then Ty leaned close to him, resting his head on Kit's shoulder.

The boy froze for a second, though something in him did quite the opposite as Ty said, "Let him try. If you don't get away by your wits then know i'll stand with you at the end of the line and beyond." He turned his eyes to him, gray meeting blue. "We stick together, Watson. Always."

For the anon who requested this and for @sherlockedkit and @magnusthefish who i promised each KitTy fanfics and this is so far the last i have of them. Eeee, i know this isn't like the others and i'm sorry but i tried! It's not getting easier, life wants to eat me alive.

I also think this is by far one of the weirdest fics, I've ever written, I don't know why.

And this shall also be my last Kit x Ty for a while. Maybe until The Wicked Powers.

Also tagging; @alma-berry @oopstheregoesthatlifeofmine @vanillalipstick66 @samnherondale @alastairlightwxod @themerrythieves @starsfor4ever @shadowhunterbooklover1 @lost-in-fictionn @older-brother-kit

#kitty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #tda #the dark artifices #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfic #mine #twp #the wicked powers #kitty fanfic #kit x ty

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 4 years ago

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if this was a dream pt. 2

Part 1 | AO3 | Fanfiction Masterlist

Thomas tried to steady himself as Alastair walked - no, more like ran - away. What was he doing here, by his bedside? In what universe would his parents allow Alastair Carstairs to sit with him while they slept? He seemed to recall many nights in his youth when his mother refused to sleep at all when he was unwell.

His mind ran through countless possibilities, each one less likely than the last, until his parents rushed into his room. He pushed those thoughts aside as mother ran to him, cupping his face in her hands and gently kissing his forehead. “We were so worried. How are you feeling?”

Besides blinding rage? He took a moment to actually consider the question. He’d been too distracted by the Alastair fiasco to take notice of it all. Alastair said that he had been injured. “Er, my head hurts, but other than that, I feel alright.”

She smiled. “That’s good. You were attacked on patrol about three days ago, and your injuries were quite severe. There’s a Silent Brother lingering around here somewhere, we should fetch him to check on you. I’m so glad you’re feeling alright, love.”

“Alright is one word for not being able to remember the past six months,” Eugenia commented, appearing in the doorway.

Both of his parents looked alarmed. “What do you mean?” his father asked.

“That’s what-” She cut herself off abruptly. “Thomas, what month is it?”

“Um…” He thought for a moment. Now that she mentioned it, he was feeling a bit blurry. Was the engagement party last week? Two weeks ago, perhaps? “It’s August.”

His mother looked at him worriedly.

“What?”

“It’s February,” Eugenia answered. She was always the most blunt out of all of them.

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond, but his mother quickly reassured, “That’s alright, dear. I’ll go find the Silent Brother now. I’m sure this will pass as your head heals.”

She left the room and Eugenia came to the chair that Alastair had been sitting in earlier. She sighed. “I know you’re mad at him.” It took him a moment to realize she was talking about Alastair. “You should be, but also… try to keep in mind that a lot has happened over the past six months.”

He could feel the anger rising in his bloodstream again, but there was only so much he was willing to say with his father present. “Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that…” He trailed off. What was being implied here? He had no idea what was happening at all.

“Believe what you must, then,” Eugenia exhaled.

“Well, what did happen in the last six months?”

Eugenia thought for a moment. “Hm, let’s see… Well, Rosamund and Thoby got engaged. Cordelia and James got married, kind of. Matthew got a flat! And a car. And he’s trying to quit drinking now, though that’s a bit new, maybe don’t bring it up. Let’s see… There was the whole serial killer bit, we fought a couple of Princes of Hell, Lilith showed up, Lucie raised Jesse Blackthorn from the dead… Oh, I’m sure I’m missing some things. Your friends can explain it better.”

Thomas could only stare in response.

“See? Is your relationship with Alastair Carstairs truly the most shocking thing to have happened in the past six months?”

Thomas’ head had ached before, but now he could feel it pounding, trying to process all that his sister had just rattled off. “I- What-” He flashed his gaze towards his father, who seemed a bit concerned, but not the least bit surprised or upset. “My- I don’t-”

“I can see now that I’ve said far too much. You know what? It’s fine. Most of that doesn’t even matter anyways. The parts that do, well, you’ll figure them out. Besides, your memories may come back soon enough anyways. And it’s all truly not as dramatic as it sounds listed out like that.”

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to shove all of those thoughts, his sister’s words, the many questions needing answers, into some corner of his brain to be picked up later. “Perhaps we can just… avoid that as a topic of conversation.”

“Of course,” his sister said quickly. “By ‘that’ you mean-”

Gideon cut her off by clearing his throat. “Genie, would you please find Bridget and request some food be brought up for your brother, now that he’s awake.”

She shot out of her seat with nervous energy. “Of course. I’ll be back.”

Once she was out the door, he chuckled gently. “I have no idea how she still has that much energy after staying awake for nearly three straight days.”

Thomas bit at the inside of his lip. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

Gideon nodded solemnly. “You’re alright now, though, and you’re awake. That’s what is important.” He paused. “I know this has all been a lot to take in, but you needn’t worry about any of it, truly. All that matters to any of us right now is that you heal. You should try to rest, if only because Eugenia is less likely to harass you if it looks like you’re sleeping.”

He gave him a small smile and tried to relax. He attempted, unsuccessfully, to quiet the noise in his brain. Alastair, sitting by his bedside. The look on Alastair’s face as he fled the room. How his entire family had seemingly accepted Alastair as part of his life, as his… partner? Had Alastair sat with them these three long days, hoping, praying, that he would wake?

It didn’t make sense. Alastair had spread cruel rumors, terrible lies, about Thomas’ family. Rumors that had made his mother weep. He’d hurt Matthew so badly that the scars showed even now, four years later. He’d had a crush on Alastair in school, of course. Just a silly schoolboy crush, running after the witty and mysterious older boy with cutting words and sad eyes. Thomas had thought, for a moment, that he was falling in love with him, back in Paris. He kicked himself at the thought of it now. He’d been terribly lonely and feeling alienated, of course he would fall at the feet of the first person he connected with.

He felt it again, though, when Alastair arrived in London, in those stolen conversations at parties or in the laboratory. He knew now that the Alastair he’d shown to Thomas was not true. It was a facade he put on to please him, a trick. That Alastair would never be able to say such terrible things about his loved ones, even as some strange, sick act. This must be another trick, Thomas thought, one that he’d seemingly convinced not only Thomas of but everyone else, too.

Thomas silently scolded himself. There were much bigger issues to worry about than Alastair Carstairs’ games, such as the fact that he’d nearly died a few days prior or that Lucie had apparently raised Jesse Blackthorn from the dead. Those were the types of things that he should be worried about, or even the fact that this meant that it had been over half a year without his sister, or that he’d turned 19 last month and could not remember. And yet, his mind lingered.

His mother returned soon after with Brother Shadrach. Thomas allowed himself a moment of silent relief that it was not Brother Zachariah. He had no issue with Jem, but he suspected that his presence would make it a bit difficult to keep his mind off of a different Carstairs.

Brother Shadrach did a short physical evaluation. Thomas still had several wounds that had not finished healing, but they were reportedly improving nicely. His head injury was a different story.

With these types of injuries, recent memories are typically more affected than older ones. Only time will tell whether the amnesia is temporary or not. It is likely that even if you begin to regain your older memories, some of your most recent memories will never return, even if that is merely the days or weeks leading up to the attack.

Sophie thanked him for all of his help, and he left them with orders that Thomas be allowed light physical activity as he finished healing, though he should avoid anything that may make his headache worsen, such as reading. Or Alastair Carstairs, Thomas had wanted to add, though he did not.

Over the next several hours, his family tapered off in shifts, finally allowing themselves much-needed rest and meals now that they were certain that Thomas was alright.

It was Eugenia’s shift when he woke from a nap with too much restless energy to lie in bed any longer. “I’m going to walk around a bit,” he announced.

She sat up, closing the book she was reading. “I’ll come with you, then.”

“That’s alright, you don’t need to. Brother Shadrach said I’m allowed to walk around. I’m meant to avoid headaches, though, and I’d rather not have you talking my ears off.”

Genie’s face fell. “Oh.”

“I didn’t- That came out wrong. I only meant that I’d like some time alone.”

“I know what you meant.” She looked back down at the book in her lap. “Go. You have until I finish this chapter, and then I’m coming to find you.”

His wandering eventually led him to the library, though he was not meant to do any actual reading. In the library, however, was a man.

“Why are you still here?” Thomas asked.

Alastair looked up from the book he was holding. “I- Thomas! I didn’t realize that you were walking around.”

“Yes, according to Brother Shadrach, my head injury has not affected my ability to walk.”

“Right-”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Go home, Carstairs. How many times do I need to tell it to you? Do you need it in a different language?” He was about to tell Alastair to leave in Farsi when he was cut off.

“No, I’ll go.” He shut his book and stood up. “I’m sorry. I did not intend to bother you again, I simply-”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing or how you’ve managed to convince my whole family of it, too, but it won’t work anymore.”

“Thomas, there’s no-”

“Cease constantly addressing me by my first name. We’re not schoolboys any longer. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

Alastair couldn’t seem to find the words to respond, though his expression was as unreadable as ever.

Thomas could feel tears burning in his eyes. “I thought that you were different, but I was wrong. I will not allow myself to fall for your lies again.”

“Very well, Mr. Lightwood. I will take my leave. I did not wish to upset you.” His face was still blank.

“Really? Because you don’t seem to care all that much. We’re meant to be in a relationship, or something, according to my sister, but it doesn’t even seem like you care that I hate you.”

There, just for a moment, was a flicker across Alastair’s face, though Thomas couldn’t quite catch what it was. He thought for a moment before finally responding. “You’re allowed to hate me, T- Perhaps you should. It matters not to me because as long as you hate me, you are awake and you are alive, and that is an easier reality to contend with than one where you are… not alive. I hope you feel better, Mr. Lightwood.”

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but was too flustered to find the words. He stared as he watched Alastair walk out of the library. For a moment, he thought that perhaps he would look back at him, but he simply kept walking, turning the corner towards the front entrance of the Institute.

Thanks for all of your support! taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @lifewouldbebetteronmars @delusioneon @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood

Part 3

#coi spoilers #chain of iron spoilers #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #thomastair #chain of iron #coi #the last hours #tlh #fanfiction #fanfic #if this was a dream fic

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 3 years ago

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I did it you all, I finally finished QoAaD. So overall thoughts:

You know, when this book first came out I had heard that people didn't really like the ending and maybe thats part of what fueled me to never come back to the book and finish it for all these years. I had heard that people felt like the ending didn't really feel like an ending but I kind of disagree. It feels very much like a Cassandra Clare style ending to me. There are things that are neatly tied up and then there are things that are kind of bittersweet. CC does use her endings to kind of usher in a new era for the next set of books to come in so of course not everything has a happily ever after and I've always been okay with that because these books always have an air of bad things happen and sometimes there's not always a clear cut fix to those problems. so the fact that the Cohort essentially forced everyone out of Idris is very terrible and I truly hope they get their "just desserts" in later books, but I'm also glad at the same time. It was kind of getting tiring with every series ending somehow coming to terms with the Clave's corruption and fixing it so cleanly but here, it's not such a clean fix and it's a way for shadowhunters to come into a new era, possibly have a closer relationship with both Downworld and mundanes. It was an interesting move for CC to make.

Now with that said, I don't think this book is perfect. Since it took me a few years to pick it back up again, obviously I have problems with the book. It has a lot of fun and interesting elements to it but unfortunately it is surrounded by a lot of dull boring stuff too. Like for me, I'm sorry but Julian and Emma are just so incredibly boring to me. No one else has to agree with me on that but when we're having a polyamorous style relationship with Kieran, Christina, and Mark or following Ty and Kit as they try to resurrect Livvy and how that ultimately impacts their friendship, or the warlocks getting sick, or even the cohort's shenanigans...amongst all that, Emma and Julian fighting their constant urges to have sex or not just feels kind of mediocre and it's just kind of there to tie the story together. I for one would have preferred far more of mark/Kieran/Christina threesome action as opposed to all the constant sex-angst with Julian and Emma but that's just me. However, while I was fairly certain that by the end of the book, Emma and Julian would turn into some sort of monster, I was not expecting angelic giants ripping the cohort apart, how very Attack On Titan of you, CC. I did actually like that bit but I'm glad CC decided to not go full on AoT and have Emma and Julian eat the cohort, because eww, and as awful as the cohort is, they don't even deserve that and also I don't think Emma and Julian would appreciate having any body part of the cohort within their digestive tract when they eventually turned back to a human. But also while I appreciate the power of familial love bringing them back to themselves, it also feels kind of cheesily and cliche written. I'm not saying the Blackthorns don't have that kind of relationship that could bring Emma and Julian out of their angelic fury trance, I just don't think it was as well-written as it could've been. And then the fact that this somehow destroyed their parabatai bond feels very convenient and forced and I just didn't like how that aspect of the story was so conveniently fixed when so much of TDA is about problems escalating and their being no fixes to it and it's up to your choices to make the best of what you're given. It just felt like the parabatai bond disappearing so conveniently was just a really easy way for Emma and Julian to finally be together even when I feel like they don't really deserve it in my opinion?

And oh Livvy, i was so sad over her death in LoS, like I full on mourned her as the Blackthorns did, but to see the fate that awaited her in this book🤧. For her to essentially be tied to Ty through necromancy, she was at peace and then forcefully taken out and while she probably doesn't mind being bound to Ty I still wanted better for her than being an unwilling ghost. Her death was unfair and cruel but at least a saving grace was that she could be at peace and now she doesn't even have that. And it's so bittersweet because I love her and Ty's relationship and I'm glad that he has her back to continue to help him but it's so sad at the same time. She died, she didn't have any unfinished business, no reason to come back as a ghost and she deserved peace and she was roughly taken away from death just like she was so roughly taken away from life.

And ultimately, I'm actually quite satisfied with this book. I feel like this book didn't need to be as long as it was, so much unnecessary meandering around that finally comes to a head in the 3rd act but some of the stuff probably could've been cut but I could be biased since I didn't particularly enjoy Julian or Emma as main characters or their relationship. Would I ever re-read this book? Probably not, at least not from start to finish. But I would want to re-read the Thule bits and the third act again.

And as I was reading this book, it dawned on me that maybe I am kind of getting sick of all the political intrigue in these books. I think maybe right now I just want a good old-fashioned survival story about shadowhunters fighting demons because demons are trying to take over the world. Considerimg how it's always seen in these books as how taboo it is for shadowhunters to fight eachother, they certainly spend alot of time in these books fighting each other. Maybe it would be a nice reprieve to read about shadowhunters actually saving the world instead of constantly fighting enemies they festered and created.

But anyway, those are my thoughts on QoAaD. Not as bad as people might lead you to believe but also not entirely enjoyable either.

#tsc reread #tsc #tda reread #the shadowhunters chronicles reread #the shadowhunters chronicles #queen of air and darkness #qoaad

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thomaslightwood · 3 years ago

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Blackthorn Detective Agency - Part 2

Part 1 || Ao3 || Masterlist

This is the KitTy Sherlock AU! (Just changed its name with something more like a fic's title)

It’s set in 1930s, slow burn & will have a few parts!

Words: 3 024

Ty rubbed his fingertips on the frame. It was old, its angels were soft.

“Peru, 1890,” he read at the bottom of the photo. “This photograph is from more than 40 years ago.”

Which wasn’t unusual for a warlock - they lived for centuries. To keep photos from 40 years ago was logical. But why was this the only thing in this flat that was actually… personal?

“It's the only personal piece here,” Kit said. Ty almost smiled - they had the exact same thought. “Probably in the whole flat, except the Spanish books.”

“You have a point,” Ty agreed. Between the pages of that book were papers with conjugated verbs in Spanish. Someone had written them there and Ragnor had copied them. That’s why Ty knew this wasn’t Ragnor’s handwriting on the photo. “But this is not his-”

A sharp sound interrupted him. It was the front door. Someone was trying to break it. Not as good at it as Kit, Ty noticed.

They had no time to worry too much. Ty grabbed Kit by the hand, opened the wood door with the other that was still holding the frame and dragged them both inside.

Ty was conscious he overstepped in Kit's personal space but a moment later they heard how the stranger broke the lock and their steps as they came inside.

The room was small and extremely dark. Ty couldn't see anything and he didn't have the space to draw a rune on himself about it. And he actually didn't have his stele in him. The bigger problem - the room was unknown to them. He was worried if they moved too much they'd make noise and would be exposed.

He heard or rather felt how Kit's breath fastened. Was he claustrophobic? Was it a bad idea to bring them in this small room?

Ty heard the slow steps as they were wandering around the room. They were coming dangerously close to the bedroom.

This was probably inappropriate and Ty didn't know if it would help at all but he must try. He carefully raised a hand and hurried it in Kit's hair. He dragged him closer to Ty until Kit's head was in Ty's neck.

He squeezed a little and Kit pressed against Ty. They both hold into each other in the sea of darkness, trying not to lose balance.

Ty was hearing the stranger's step in the room. They murmured something angrily. Ty was barely breathing. If they heard him and Kit in the closet…

A loud shatter interrupted his thoughts. Ty recognized it was a man's voice by the angry murmur.

For a few more minutes he walked around the apartment, like he… he was searching for something. And he couldn't find it. Eventually the man breathed out heavily and opened the door, not bothering to shut it quietly after himself.

They waited a few more minutes, just to be safe. Then Ty carefully let go of Kit and opened the door. The sudden light hurt his eyes so he squinted for a while to get used to it.

The bed was untouched but Ty couldn't say the same about the living room. There were books on the floor, the table was inverted.

“He was searching for something,” Kit quietly said as he carefully grabbed a book from the floor. Was Ty imagining it or his face was a little flushed?

“Yes,” Ty agreed. He was still holding the frame with the photo. “But what? Could it possibly be this?” He handed the frame to Kit.

Kit took it and shrugged. “Maybe. But why is one old photo important?”

More questions. Even though they were in the very beginning and everything was unclear, Ty felt the thrill every new case evoked in him. The burning curiosity that tickled his insides, the thirst to know everything about the subject.

“I think we should go,” Kit said. He took the photo off the frame and put it in the pocket of his coat. “They may return or a neighbor heard the noise.”

Kit had a point, Ty thought but there was something that made him feel uneasy.

Kit was heading for the door but Ty slowed down before leaving the flat. He looked around once more. The books on the floor, the almost empty shelves and the open door to the bedroom. Ty grabbed one list with Spanish verbs and closed the door after himself.

After this they went to the train station. It was surprisingly hard to find the schedule for the trains from a few days ago.

The guy they talked with wasn't happy about it. Kit could see he just wanted to enjoy his lunch. And probably was tempted to call the security to throw them out.

But then Ty pulled out cash and the man was suddenly more friendly.

Ty didn't talk much nor did he look man in the eyes. Kit was feeling like he just wanted to get the information as fast as possible.

After the man was gone for a few minutes he returned with paper with what they asked for.

“Thank you very much,” Kit said as Ty put the list in the inside of his coat. “We appreciate your help.”

The man murmured something and sat heavily on his chair, finally able to eat.

“That was smart,” Ty said as they came out on the street, waiting to catch a taxi.

“What?” Kit asked.

“To ask for the people who worked on the train that day. I didn't think about it.”

“It's nothing, really. I was just thinking about what I can do to help yesterday.”

The truth was Kit just wanted to be useful. Part of him was afraid if Ty noticed Kit wasn't doing anything he would fire him. He probably wasn't as good as Sherlock but he could understand how a criminal thinks. What they may have missed.

“I assume you already know because you're good at what you do, but,” Kit said. “People are important. They witness, tell, see and do crimes. They... they are the driving machine. Evidence is important but a person is the key. So I just thought about what people we can talk with.”

There was something thoughtful in Ty's expression as he watched Kit's cheek. “I'm not quite sure I agree.”

Before Kit could answer, a taxi stopped in front of them.

As soon as Ty told the driver the direction, Kit said “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don't you agree with me?”

“Well,” Ty said and the thoughtful look returned on his face. “It's true a person is the subject that commits the crime. But people… they are not what they appear to be. They're often hard to understand and you can't be sure who they are. They lie. And have inaccurate memories and sometimes are too afraid to tell the truth and to help. What I'm trying to say is that they're too often an unreliable source. While evidence… it's unchangeable on its own. Oneself is true to the very end. It's up to you to interpret how it fits in the whole picture. If it's wrong, it's your mistake. You're the only one to blame. While a person's words… you can't control that. Or trust it enough to interpret it rightfully.“

Ty stopped for a second, looking outside the taxi's window.

“What I'm trying to say is that a person can mislead you. Evidence never does.”

Kit was silent. The taxi pulled over in front of a small cafe, nestled between two clothing shops. Taki's Diner .

Kit remembered this was the name of the place Katarina and Ragnor met.

“We are going to question the employees?”

“Not quite,” Ty said simply and headed towards the restaurant. Kit followed, curiously looking at the surroundings.

There weren't many people. It was still early and most of them seemed sleepy. There were Downworlders as well as mundanes. Kit spotted a warlock with fully orange eyes flirting with a pale girl, probably a vampire.

There was also a mundane man who was reading a newspaper and murmured something to himself.

Ty headed at one table on the back, a bit hidden from the rest. The tables around it were empty. From the radio quietly came a Louis Armstrong's song. Kit smiled at that. He loved jazz.

Ty and Kit sat on the table. Kit took off his coat and cap.

A faerie waitress appeared in front of them and smiled. She was a short blonde who had two many bracelets on her arms.

“Hello gentlemen,” she smiled at them. “Here are your menus - look at it, choose a meal and I'll come to take your order.”

“Thank you,” Kit smiled at her. She winked in return and headed towards another table.

He returned his eyes on Ty. He had taken off his coat. It was carefully placed on the third chair on the table. He was looking around the cafe, touching the corners of his menu.

“If we're not here to interview the staff,” Kit said. “What are we here for?”

“To watch,” Ty said simply. “Observe. Talk with the regular clients.”

Kit looked around again, looking for something else this time. A woman who Kit immediately recognized as faerie sat on a table, crossed her legs and took out a book from her bag.

The waitress returned after a few minutes.

“Are you ready?” She had a notebook and pencil in her hands.

Kit hesitated. He didn't want to spend too much money but nothing here was too expensive.

“Onion omelet for me.”

“Chipped potatoes please.”

She hurriedly wrote their orders down and smiled again. “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you,” Ty said.

“Actually,” Kit said suddenly. Ty quickly looked at him but didn't say anything. He looked at the waitress pin with her name. “Nancy, right? My friend and I were wondering about something and it would be amazing if you can help us.”

“Of course,” she said and curiosity burned in her eyes. They were very blue.

“We thought a friend of ours arrived in the city a few days ago. He tends to like this place and we were wondering if he was here a few days ago perhaps?”

“What is he like?” she asked.

Kit took out the photo from Peru of Ragnor and his friends.

She took and Kit could see on her face she recognized someone in the photo. She nodded enthusiastically.

“I have seen two of these people! The man with the white hair. He was here around three days ago with the woman.”

“Can you tell us something… unusual you noticed about them?”

The waitress - Nancy - shrugged.

“The usual warlocks. They stayed for an hour or two and then left. At the end of my shift he returned though.”

“Really?” Kit said casually, like he was merely curious for a friend. “Was he alone?” Then he leaned forward a little and said more quietly with a playful smile. “We suspect he may hide a lover from us.”

The faerie chuckled. “I don't know sweetheart. When I was leaving he just sat on a table. I left before seeing anything. You can ask my friend Lizzy. She was the one who took his order.”

“Oh. When can we find her?” Kit asked.

“She starts at 11 p.m. Earlier if it's cloudy.”

She must be a vampire , Kit thought.

“Thank you so much,” Kit smiled at her one more time. “We deeply appreciate it.”

“You're welcome,” she chuckled again and left them alone.

Kit turned to Ty and caught him watching him.

“You see?”

Ty looked confused. “See what?”

“People are useful. You need witnesses.”

Unexpectedly, Ty smiled. It warmed up something in Kit's chest.

“I have never said I don't.”

“But you hinted at it.”

“I did not,” Ty said. Without taking his eyes off Kit he reached to his coat and pulled off his notebook. “I stated that people are often misleading.”

“But when I said people are important for a case, you said you're not sure you agree.”

“You also said a person is the key. With which I'm not sure I agree. I didn't say a person can't or isn't important.”

Kit exhaled. Damn , he thought. He is good.

“Good. You win. This time.”

Ty shook his head with a smile. He started to write something on the open notebook in front of him. Probably the information the faerie told them.

After a few minutes their meals arrived. Onion omelet and chipped potatoes. Ty barely looked at his food. At some point he finished writing and took the fork for the potatoes.

“So,” Kit said after swallowing a bite from the omelet. “If you're Sherlock Holmes then who am I?”

“What do you mean?” Ty glanced at him.

“Well,” Kit slowly cut out another bite from his food. “You and Livvy are a team. And you're Sherlock. I can't be a Sherlock with you. I'm not her. So I probably need another name.”

“Good point,” Ty said. He looked thoughtful while he chewed. “How do you wanna be called then?”

Kit was caught off guard a little. He expected Ty to dismiss it or leave it for later.

“I haven't thought about it,” Kit admitted and slowly moved an omelet piece from one side of the plate to the other.

“We can think about it later,” Ty said. “My sister can help us with that.”

“You mean Livvy?”

“No,” Ty said, looking around the restaurant. “My other sister, Dru.”

Kit blinked at him. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Three sisters and three brothers,” Ty said and took a potato piece in his mouth.

“Whoa,” Kit said, forgetting the food in front of him. “Big family.”

“Indeed.”

Kit wondered what it would be like to have so many relatives. So many brothers and sisters. People close to you, to thrust, to be sure they would have your back.

His father's voice rang in his head. And more people to run away with. Harder to get away. Harder to live with.

The food's taste in Kit's mouth turned into ash. He lost his appetite. Carefully left on the fork and the knife in the plate.

Ty didn't seem to notice Kit's inner thought for which he was glad.

“The woman,” Ty said quietly. “The one faerie that sat after we came. She's a regular.”

“How would you know?” unconsciously, Kit leaned forward to hear what Ty had to say.

“Nancy, the waitress, didn’t ask her for her order. She even didn’t give her a menu. She directly put a coffee and a muffin in front of her. And the woman called Nancy by name - they know each other.”

“Impressive,” Kit murmured inattentively. “So, you want to talk with her?”

“Well,” Ty shrugged. “A few minutes ago - yes. Now, when we know Ragnor was here at nighttime, at the end of Nancy’s shift, I’m not sure she’d be useful.”

Kit rose up. “Let's find out.”

After a few minutes in which Kit started a conversation with her about borrowing the salt, he returned to their table with a salt shaker. He signed, disappointed.

“Nothing,” Kit said. “She had no idea what I'm talking about. And thought I'm just flirting with her.”

“Were you?”

“What?” Kit blinked.

“Flirting with her,” Ty said, not taking his eyes off the notebook in front of him.

“Well,” Kit felt a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I kind of did. But it was just for the sake of the case. I'm not… interested in her that way.”

Ty glanced at Kit's face for a few seconds then returned to writing in his notebook. Kit didn't notice. He was suddenly anxious that Ty would think of him as a flirting careless man.

“Sometimes,” Kit started, carefully picking his words. “I flirt with people to get what I want. When I was in my early teens - to get away with something.”

Ty curiously gave him a glance.

“Did you have to do it often?”

“Well,” Kit said thoughtfully. “No, no that often. But I did it anyway. I… I think I liked to give strangers pieces of me that are… safe to give. And gender doesn't matter to me anyway.” Nothing too personal. Nothing long. Only a flirt, a few minutes of other people's time. The only kind of relationship Kit could afford.

“I can see why people like you,” Ty said, rolling the pen in his hands. “You're a rather charming man.”

Kit couldn't help but laugh.

Ty frowned.

“Did I say something out of place?”

Kit shook his head. “No, no. It's just that I don't think I'm charming. Or that people like me . ”

"Charm" was an abstract idea for him. He may pass for good looking but he didn't think of himself as "charming". Charm meant power. It attracted people to you. It made them like you.

Kit didn't make people like him. He let them make an idea for him in their heads and allowed them to believe it. This wasn't a charm. It was lying.

Ty arched an eyebrow.

“Well. I would say I like you,” then he returned his gaze back at his notebook, adding something to the already written text.

His words caught Kit completely off-guard. He was holding his fork and it just levitated in space.

Kit didn't know how to react. No one before had said something like that to him. He knew Ty probably said it to make him feel better. But something made him think Ty Blackthorn didn't say things he doesn't mean.

“Anyway,” Ty said and closed his notebook. “We're done here.”

“Really? What about questioning the waitress Lizzy?”

“We will return here after sunset for this,” Ty said. “But now we can do something more useful with our time.”

Kit felt dread in his stomach. He couldn't stay after dark. Or could he? Would his father notice? He always did.

Should he tell Ty? No, no, he was going to figure something out.

“What are we going to do now?” he asked, hoping Ty didn't notice anything strange.

He looked at the watch on his hand.

“We will meet my sister. Dru.”

To be continued...

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