#jace having to deal with his mothers bullshit

[annes-andromeda]

Honestly after this season and especially after last episode, can TG just adopt Jace, Baela, and Rhaena?

We need those three as far away from TB as possible with how they’re being treated

[out-of-life]

Reader has not known one moment of peace since the start of this mess 🫠🥺

Aemond when Reader started to bring up all the nasty stuff he did to her:

Also, it still sits wrong with me that Rhaenyra decided to make Jace her heir over Reader - I thought the reasons were bullshit, and it also doesn't help her own cause in this story, because why would the Seven Kingdoms go against centuries of "tradition" to support her claim to throne, when she herself doesn't seem to support her own convictions, by passing over her oldest child for her first son? (In canon, Rhaenyra and Jace are my cutie little babies, but in SF&A , they both got on my nerves 😅)

All this to say that Aemond making her Queen might be his brightest moment yet: he knows it is a sore subject for Reader, and now he gets to say the "See, I made you Queen, you sit the throne with me! If you support your mother, you go back to being a princess and having your birthright taken from you!"

Also, I saw someone on your profile saying that they believe this story is not having an happy ending and I have to say that I completely agree! - There is no scenario where this fic ends in a way where Reader is not suffering in some way!

If, in the end, the Greens prevail, she would have lost her family and usurped the throne she believed to be her mother's and she would have to deal with the guilt that would come from that.

If the Blacks prevail, the man she loves would definitely be killed and any possible children they may have would be too! (I know that canon Daemon and Rhaenyra would definitely not kill their grandchildren, but as it has been painted out before, this is a dark fic, anything can happen!) And, she has said herself in this chapter that she does not want to be separated from Aemond, so that is also a no no.

I really think that the only way for our girl to have some sort of "peace" in the end, she would have to die! So many of her lines in the last few chapters mention her "throwing herself from the highest window" or "wouldn't survive another war" and it's making me come to terms that it is a very likely possiblity and I am already suffering!

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh my GOSSSSSH, with every chapter I post, we get closer and closer to the end and I'm literally wriggling in my chair in excitement, like holy shit! hahaha, anyway, I so hope you enjoy this new chapter and the remaining ones to come! ENJOYYYYY <3

Chapter 101: The Merciless Queen 

“If we are to give Flea Bottom gold to build new dwellings, whose to say that the other small folk across the realm won’t decide to take arms and demand the same?” Lord Tyland Lannister, elder brother of Jason Lannister and Master of Coin argued, seated amongst the other Small Council members who seemed to be in a disarray since the slaying of their previous King, Aegon.

It had been a few days since his death, and whilst Aemond and yourself could not keep your hands off of each other, there was no denying the tension that still circled around the two of you. 

You had been coronated as Queen Consort, a short lived affair in the throne room with only the Small Council present, letters written to be sent out shortly thereafter to their supporters. There was no celebrations to be had, no drinking or dancing. It was short, brief, and most importantly, political move.

And now, all sat in wait for the more pressing question at hand.

What was to happen to the treaty?

And yet despite this question, and the sheer multitude of meetings with the council, Aemond let the unknown hover over your head like smoke, filling your lungs thickly and choking you.

When once Maester Orwyle had asked the same question, which was asked more than once a day, Aemond had barely given the man a second glance, and redirected the question elsewhere. 

In no time however, much to the urging of Otto Hightower and Lord Jasper Wylde, word would soon reach Dragonstone, and the Green Council would need to be ready for such events.

There was a very real possibility that at the knowledge of Aegon being indisposed of, and the Greens thus only having one dragon rider, may invoke the wrath and fury of all the Black’s power. 

And in this moment, they had it. 

And the council, knew it. 

There was an all encompassing feeling of dread that filled each member. The anticipation being a most poisonous thing, and at any loud noise or uncertain sound, Alicent Hightower would jump in her seat, eyes skating to the doors of the chamber they were in, or looking out the window to the skies. 

“Then see to it that they do not.” Breezed Aemond, the Conquerors Crown seated atop his head, ruby glinting in the light of the chambers.

“I do not see why we need to do so in the first place, Your Grace.” Maester Orwyle spoke, “The small folk are not in need or want, nor do they know more than what they have.”

Aemond blinked slowly, finger impatiently tapping on the table as he looked at his men and mother, the gold ring upon is finger clunking on the wooden surface.

“We have the gold, not much, but enough. As it is, their disdain for us was exaggerated by my brother and his selfish disregard for their needs." Aemond began, "I couldn’t care for what they do below in their shit and piss, but my Lady wife has spoken of the benefits of having the love of the small people, and we are in dire need of support.”

You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling the eyes of all the Lords at the table, and the ever present scowl of Alicent Hightower directed at you. Swallowing, you licked your lips, fingers finding your council sphere and spinning it in its dish.

“My mother is loved by the small folk, as was I,” Before they dubbed me the Merciless, “‘The Realms Delight', they named her, most beloved and fair, much the same for my sweet aunt Helaena."

You paused, letting your gaze stop on Alicent, "Where as when they think of the King, they have little good things to say. Two Kinslayers on the throne would no doubt further press their disdain." You turned back to Aemond, "The support of the common folk is important when ruling, it makes things easier, and if the time comes, they will take up arms to support your cause.”

Larys Strong’s voice carried across the table, his high lilt directed at you. His hands were crossed over the top of his cane delicately between his knees at the table, “My spiders have told me that there are ample supporters of your rule, Your Grace.”

You scoffed, “Supporters of the Faith perhaps, or the whispers of the old militant sect even, but that support lies with Alicent, and they would surely have issue with mine and Aemond's union, as is our tradition as Targaryens, and also the very issue of us both being Kinslayers," You looked to Alicent, "Which we are very much reminded of. But the small folk, the true small folk who live in poverty, where sickness and disease is ripe, have no positive feelings of loyalty towards a King who does not see them and gorges upon riches unimaginable. My father took to the streets and killed every rapist and murderer in Flea Bottom, punished thieves and crooks, and the small people felt safer.”

“They were scared out of their wits.” Otto sighed, “The small people need nothing but the clothes on their backs. Simple minds think not of extravagant pleasures.”

Anger rolled through you, “Having proper housing and not living in the streets is not an extravagant pleasure. I would say it is a right for them to live freely and happily, to pursue their desires and passions.”

Jasper Wylde placed his long fingers upon the sphere, several gold and silver rings adorning the digits, “The Queen makes a point, Your Grace. King Jaehaerys was loved by the small folk for his benevolence, and the actions of Maegor the Cruel brought him nothing but trouble. Perhaps the spending of a few Gold Dragons on Flea Bottom’s worse affected slums could bring you support, especially now that the treaty is in question.”

Lord Jasper Wylde, Master of Laws, opened the conversation for the treaty to be discussed. 

Again.

All eyes were now on Aemond, who sat stiffly in his chair, one elbow upon the armrest, the other still tapping against the table.

“Has word reached Dragonstone?” Aemond questioned Larys, noncommittally. 

The brunette leant forward, bowing his head slightly as he spoke, “As it were, a spider intercepted an attempt to alert them. Though I have no doubt they will receive word by the morrow.”

The King hummed.

“Will the treaty be renewed, Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle began, eyes flicking to you, then back to the King, "I believe it to be prudent that we do so. As it were, we are outnumbered in dragons. You are but the lone rider here at the Keep.” You narrowed your eyes at Maester Orwyle, “Perhaps if we sent word and new terms, Rhaenyra will be-“

“-No.” Aemond’s word cut through the air like a knife. Crisp. Icy.

Final.

���No?” Otto questioned, “The realm will fall to war again if-“

Your heart beat against your chest like a drum, iciness spreading across your skin and at the base of your skull.

No.

“What do you mean, no?” You breathed.

Aemond did not turn to face you.

You snapped, “If you do not sign a treaty, they will come for you, Aemond. My mother and father will come to claim what is theirs.”

The King’s nostrils flared, “Let them. I ride the largest dragon in the world. If my half-sister wishes to declare war at the risk of your safety, then it shall be your blood upon her hands, not mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“My blood?”

Aemond did not even turn to face you.

Your hands slammed against the table, and you shot out of your chair, leaning towards your husband as you sneered, "Have you learnt nothing? You are blinded by your hatred. You will be our ruin, not Aegon.”

Aemond breathed sharply, eye solely on you as he spoke to the table, “Send coin to Flea Bottom. Hire masons and workers, or let the small folk build it themselves.” He looked to his men before finishing, “Clear the chambers.” He commanded the room, and all Lords and Lady Alicent, stood and quickly shuffled out of the room, leaving Aemond with an enraged wife.

“Are you to doom us all with your stubbornness? Have you gone mad?” You growled, “Your thirst for the throne will kill us, Aemond. My mother and father are not to be trifled with. My brother and sisters are not to be trifled with. Do you think that we will survive this?”

Aemond simply stared at you, hand still on the table tapping, whilst the other gripped the arm of the chair fiercely, knuckles white.

“Is it your true desire to have another war? Or is this a foolish little boys dream?” You said in disbelief, looking down at him from your standing position, hands still flat against the table to ground you, “I barely survived the last one, and yet you wish to play games with my mother and father? With my life? Do you know what they will do to you? What they could do to you? You would be dead before you even reached the skies.” You sneered.

The King’s lips pulled into a thin line, brows furrowed as he looked at you, barely contained anger burning behind the violet of his eye.

“They would not do it if it meant jeopardising your life.”

You flinched backwards, as though he had hit you, curling your hands into fists at your sides as you tried to steady your breathing, but panic coursed through your veins, and your throat grew tighter with each passing second.

"Is that a threat?”

Aemond frowned at you, the lines in forehead pulling the crown down in the slightest of movements. It was as though he was offended by your question, and though you had questioned every natural fibre of his being. 

“You think I would harm you? After all that has happened? After all I have done for you?” His voice became raised, anger leaking into each syllable. 

You scoffed, “You just said that them acting would put me at risk. What will you do? Have Ser Cole at my side, sword ready to cast against my neck or plunge into my heart?” 

Aemond leant forward and sneered, “Do you truly think so lowly of me? I did this for you! I love you!”

“Then do this for me, too! Renew the treaty, Aemond.”

“I can’t do that.” He breathed.

The backs of your calves hit the edge of the chair as you leant back, looking at your uncle from down your nose, “You can. But you won’t.”

Aemond did not respond.

“Sign the treaty.” You said more sternly, anger causing the words to come out harsh, and biting.

The King's broad chest rose and fell in his robes shallowly, his one eye watching you as his hands flexed upon the table.

“Why do you wish to sign a treaty with them? After all they have done?” Aemond growled.

After all they had done?

“They cast you aside! Abandoned you here to be tormented by Aegon.” Aemond continued, voice rising.

“They did not abandon me!” You snapped, hurt and betrayal causing tears to prick in your eyes.

“Oh? But they knew what would happen to you once you were wed to me. They let you be raped. You were sold to me like a brood mare.”

“And who did those things to me?!” You screamed, a tear falling down your cheek, “Who, Aemond? Who raped me? Who defiled me? Who scarred me? Because it wasn’t them.”

Aemond’s anger seemed to bleed out of him as he looked at you.

You pushed the chair backwards hard with a kick of your foot, sending the high-backed wooden seat to crash against the stones loudly, “You raped me. You hurt me. You did that. Not them. You! You act as though you’re innocent in all of this!”

“I don’t-“

“-I will not survive another war.”

The anger was back.

Aemond’s lips curled in disgust, “You expect me to bend the knee to your mother? The very woman who wished to punish me after her son took my eye?”

Your face fell, “No.” You declared, “I expect you to give the treaty a chance. Countless lives will be lost if you start another war, Aemond. Needless blood will be shed. Could you live with yourself knowing this?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly, that it seemed that Aemond had not even needed to give it a second thought. As though he had already weighed all possibilities against each other, as though he had measured the odds.

And still, he had said yes.

You swallowed thickly, wishing the damn lump to leave your throat. And so quietly, you asked a question which clawed at you from the back of you mind. A question of doubt. Of fear. Of another ‘what if’ that you had to bat away with a swift blink of your eye.

“Even if it is mine?”

It was an uncomfortable sort of silence, and this time, Aemond did not answer straight away. Not like how he had a moment before. As though he had not weighed up this question in his mind yet, or perhaps he had, and had come to no conclusion. You watched his face as he stared at you, his seeing eye flickering across your face as a finger twirled the ring upon his hand.

“I will not lose you." He began, making a move towards you, "But I will not bend a knee to Rhaenyra, and kiss her old cunny for the sake of peace.”

His tone was final, he had hissed your mothers name like a curse, and there was no changing his mind. No shifting of the tide that had been steadily building for months now, a tide which had moved away from the shore, sucking the water and life away from the beach, revealing the jagged rocks that were hidden beneath.

You blinked again, another tear falling down your cheek.

Your uncle continued, “And if it need come to war, then so it shall be.”

It was so point of fact. 

So emotionless.

Toneless. 

Void of anything other than finality. 

War was to come.

And there would be no changing that.

“But,” Aemond’s voice startled you from your thoughts, your eyes racing over his face, “You are Queen now. My Queen. Something that is and was always your birthright.”

“Like my mothers.” You sneered.

Aemond ignored your comment and continued, “And you, as Rhaenyra’s heir shall sit the Iron Throne in her place. And then, when the time comes, our heir shall follow."

It was clear to you then, that Aemond had thought on this.

"If Rhaenyra’s concern for succession is blood, then she can be satiated in knowing that the daughter she denied shall sit where she is owed by her birthright.”

You stepped towards him, hands clenching and unclenching, “Aemond, please. Think about this. You are asking me to depose my mother.”

“I ask nothing of you. I am telling you, zaldritsos. I will not have you be pushed aside again for your bastard brother. I will not bend the knee to my half-sister. This throne is ours. It is ours by birthright. And I will be damned if I let anyone take you away from me again."

The air in the chambers shifted, and you inched towards your husband as he continued to speak.

"Do you think that if I bent the knee to them, that your father would let you stay wed to me? Think on it a moment, Y/n. Do you think that your mother would let you stay wed to a monster? The man who killed her son? They will take you from me."

You stepped away from him, turning your back as your mind raced a as you looked around the chambers, eyes casting out the veranda at the clouded skies. Dread settled in your gut.

You didn't want to be parted from him.

You loved him.

The air was charged as you spoke, voice shaking, “So what now? Are you to send word to them?”

Aemond stood behind you, the chair scraping against the stone floors.

“I will be sending Otto and Ser Cole to Dragonstone as envoys to give word to Rhaenyra and Daemon. They will be told that their blood sits upon the Iron Throne as Queen. They will be allowed to live where they do. My half-sister can have Dragonstone, I have no need for it when I have Kings Landing and you. And they will bend the knee.”

You shook your head, still not turning to face him, “You should know that they will not.”

“Not if you don’t encourage them.”

Your eyes widened as you spun on your heel to look at him.

He was deathly serious.

“You wish for me to ask them to bend the knee to you?” You laughed.

Aemond frowned, “A letter from the Queen is a hard one to refuse. Especially if the Queen is their own daughter. Tell them of the fears that you have. That war will break if they do not swear me as their King and you as their Queen. They can remain on Dragonstone, and you shall remain here, with me. Where you belong.” 

He seemed so sure that it would work. So sure that a simple letter from you would bring the water back to shore. But the tide was gone from your reach, and you were anchored on the coast atop a beached ship with no way to get off. 

Aemond stepped forward, cupping the side of your face gently as he looked at you, "They will listen to you.”

You grasped his wrist tightly, “I am not so sure.” Your voice was quiet, so fragile, like the finest of glass from Essos. One octave higher, one shift against your throat could cause them to crack or break.

If you did this, you would be betraying them.

You would be deposing your mother.

Aemond pulled you into a reassuring kiss, one he poured love and adoration into as he cupped your face in his hands. When he pulled back, his eye roamed your face softly, “I do not wish to see bloodshed, nor do I wish to see you harmed. This is the only way, surely you can see that."

And you did.

You did see that.

You saw it all clearly.

Your husband pressed another kiss against the top of your hairline, your eyes sliding shut as you breathed through your nose, preparing yourself for what you had to do.

"I trust that my Queen will know what to do.”

And you did.

You knew what you had to do.

And so with a short nod, you agreed to his terms.

“I will have Otto deliver your letter by hand.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[closedmadness]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: you and alec hated each other — or at least, pretended to in front of everyone. behind the scenes, however, you two are insanely in love with each other

pairings: alec lightwood x male reader

warnings → fluff & nsfw・swearing・fake arguments・make-out session・blowjob・anal penetration・slight possessive alec

a/n: please i didn’t mean for this to be short nsfw but my fingers moved on its own✋😭 it was supposed to be just cute, fluffy and sweet💀

“you can’t tell me that it wasn’t your fault we failed our mission today.” alec’s voice boomed in the institute as soon as all of you got home, irritation clear in his tone.

rolling your eyes, a sigh escaped your lips. you really don’t want to do this right now after that particularly bad, failed mission — a bunch of female mundanes swarmed over you while on duty, disturbing you and making you unable to guard over the demons that were wrecking havoc on that club itself. those females were a distraction; they wanted to get into your pants, thirty for some love from a incredibly good-looking man like you.

deciding not to deal with his crap as isabelle and jace scolded alec, you went to walk pass him before being stopped quickly with a grab on your arm. “i really don’t want to do this right now, lightwood.” you immediately said after turning around, refusing to let him talk first. “i feel responsible of this mission as much as it’s hard to believe that, and i don’t want you constantly nagging me about it.”

“as you should.” he retorts with the same cold, emotionless face he always plastered on. “and of course, i will nag you about it, it was an important mission! we got to kill those demons but we didn’t get to find out their intention.”

you scrunched your brows together, “why didn’t you ask any of them when those mundanes were crowding over me? i’m sure you had plenty of chances.” eyes glinting with suspicion, you stepped forward towards him. “or maybe you just didn’t want to do anything so you could frame me on the failed mission.” you accused.

alec’s brows furrowed and his lips curved upside down in a frown at that. he narrowed his eyes, offended and upset. “you’re accusing me now? great, (y/n)! of course, you would find a way to accuse me somehow!” he exclaimed sarcastically.

you scoff and rolled your eyes, done with his bullshit before storming off the heart of the institute towards your room.

“seriously, alec?” isabelle gives her brother a look, hands resting on her hips, but all the male lightwood did was glare at her and storm off as well.

she didn’t know why you and alec are always on each other’s throats; it’s almost as if you’d kill each other when left alone together, there isn’t even any clear reason you two should hate each other yet you still do. it’s probably because of the feud between maryse and your mother, but even then, she still did not understand. in her eyes, alec was longing for your touches and just you in general, yet he’s pushing you away. isabelle has been wanting the both of you to get along — though, it might be the hardest one to achieve.

jace and clary glanced at each other, knowing how she feels about this whole feud thing. “they’ll come around soon, izzy.” the former comforts, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“yeah, let’s just believe in them.” clary joins, taking up the space opposite jace. “you know what they say; the more you hate, the more you love. who knows? they might actually get along someday.” she tried her best to cheer up, which worked miraculously as isabelle reveals a smile.

perhaps, she should be patient as the universe works in its own wonderful ways. all these small, petty arguments are getting tiring and she just hopes something will change for the better.

walking down the hallway leading up to your room, alec looks around first cautiously and makes sure no one’s witnessing anything before eventually stopping in front of your door.

it was already unlocked, with you peeking from the tiny bit of space between, grinning up at him. alec smiled and assured you there was no one around, which made you open the door wide and pull him in. giggling together, he closed the door behind him and made sure to lock it as you captured his lips on yours, cupping his face with both hands.

he smiled into the kiss, moving to wrap his arms around your waist while yours wrapped around his neck, pulling each other close. feeling a gentle squeeze on your butt, you took that as a signal to jump and wrap your legs around him, alec not missing a beat to catch you. with lips still attached together, alec moved to sit on the bed, his hands beginning to roam around your body. breaking the kiss to catch your breath, he took it as an opportunity to run his lips and tongue across your neck, licking, sucking and biting. you moaned, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“alec...” you whimpered breathlessly as he sucked harshly on your skin, creating a pretty visible hickey. “they will- don’t make one where they can see it.” complaining, you slipped your fingers through his soft hair but didn’t stop him from continuing his work.

he hums, the vibration making you shiver. “you can always cover it, (y/n). i know you like it when i leave my mark on you.” he mumbled against your skin, tightening his hold. a moan once again leaves your lips when he bit on your sweet spot, the blissful sound making him groan and slip his hand in the back of your pants. “you know today was not your fault, right?” he suddenly whispers, staring into your (e/c) eyes that never failed to make him lost.

you stared back at his hazel eyes, nodding your head and resting your forehead against his. “of course, darling. i never meant anything i’ve said either.”

this is always what you did — argue, act like enemies, be nasty, throw insults at one another, speak with distaste in the front, but once behind the closed doors, you apologize to each other and make sure the other didn’t take it to their heart, as well as show love, so you’d be reassured of everything.

alec smiles, his eyes shining with admiration and love. oh, how angelic he looked with that smile of his. only you could see him so soft.

“truth is, i couldn’t ask the demons because i was focused on you.” he admitted, looking down for a second before returning his gaze on you. “those mundanes,” distaste filled his tone at the mention of those creature, “had no right to touch you like that. acting like you’d sleep with them, be their man.” his lips pouted at the thought as jealousy clouded his chest.

chuckling, you pecked his lips when found his jealousy cute. “alec, darling, you know i’m only gonna do that with you. i’m completely yours.” talking with a loving tone, your fingers played with his hair that always made him feel good.

alec smiled in fondness and gently pulled you by the back of your head, capturing your lips in yet another heated kiss. you bit on his bottom lip, erupting a groan from him as he pushed the jacket off of your shoulders, it falling on the floor along with your black shirt. alec only ever broke the kiss when he removed his jacket and shirt, and quickly smashed his lips back on yours, tongue slipping in smoothly and exploring your mouth, fighting against your own wet muscle for dominance.

he then flipped you both to lay your back on the soft mattress, never breaking the kiss as his hand ran across your chest and abs, tracing every bit of your body. you moaned into the kiss when he palmed your cock through the thick layer of pants.

“mhm, alec...” calling his name breathlessly, you unconsciously buckled your hips onto his hand, trying to get some sort of stimulation.

alec groaned in arousal at your reaction, quickly unzipping your pants and tugging it off of you along with your boxers. a cool of air hit your manhood as soon as it was released, making you shiver, eyes closing in response.

the lightwood took his time to admire you completely; your eyes glistening with lust, lips swollen from all the kissing, chest rising up and down with every breath you take, fully naked, presenting yourself to him without shame or hesitation. no matter how many times he looked at every part of you, you never ceased to take his breath away. it was sort of amusing, how even after all this time you still have him wrapped around your finger and willingly refusing to ever unwrap.

god, he’s so lucky to have you.

alec starts kissing your chest downwards slowly until it reached your hard erection, laying a peck on the tip which had you twitching. giving your tip a kitten lick, his hand pumped your cock painfully slow as you whimpered. he licked off the dripping precum before fully taking you in, the walls of his mouth rubbing against your shaft making you moan and throw your head back, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. he didn’t stop until he took all the way in and starts to bob his head upwards and backwards, twirling his wet muscle skillfully on your shaft while doing so, keeping his gaze fixed on you.

you gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles turned white, wave after wave of pleasure hitting you like a tsunami as an uncontrollable moans escaped your lips. “fuck, alec! t-that feels so good.” you praised, arching your back to get more stimulation.

alec kept you in place with his hands as he continued sucking you off, the bulge in his pants implying his intense arousal upon the delicious sight in front of him. his cock was painfully hard underneath that thick fabric.

saliva as well as your precum dripped his chin, but he couldn’t careless as he only wanted you to feel amazing. and indeed, you were feeling just that.

he could see your legs quiver in the corner of his eyes. you were close, he could feel it by your cock twitching and pulsating in his mouth. an all too familiar feeling builds in the pit of your stomach as tears blurred your vision, your mind reminding you how close you are to your climax. “ohhh, fuck! alec! i’m close- aghhh!”

“cum for me, (y/n).” alec speaks, and although it was muffled due to your cock still buried between his lips, you understood. he fastened his pace, slowly sending you over the edge until finally, you let out a loud moan of his name as white seeds shoots out from your cock in his mouth. your hips jerked while you ride out your orgasm, his lips still wrapped around the manhood in an attempt to swallow everything that spills out of it.

he then released your cock from his mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and hovered above your panting body again, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. you could taste yourself along with his saliva as your wet muscles danced together lazily.

a shaky sigh leaves his lips after feeling how painfully hard he was and finally moved to remove the rest of his clothes, pants and boxers altogether — his hard-on springing up as he released a relieved sigh from the freeness. his pants were getting too tight with his as-hard-as-a-rock manhood inside.

“alec,” you breathlessly called, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “go ahead and put it in. i want you now.”

“but without preparation-”

“it will hurt, i know.” you cut him off, giving him an assuring look. “we did it yesterday, it’ll be okay. please, just fuck me right now,” you placed your lips just above his ear, “show me those mundanes aren’t better than you.”

“you really...” he growled. you really knew how to rile him up.

without a warning, he slammed his cock into you in just one go and ripped out a scream from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the sudden feeling of being filled with his thick shaft.

thrusting his hips, alec groaned at the warm feeling of your tight hole around him and kissed your collarbone to muffle his own noises while his ears are blessed with your constant whines, moans and whimpers.

“shit, ah! alec! more!” you desperately whined, hips moving on its own to meet with his rhythmic thrust.

“fuck, (y/n)...” he grunted right into your ear, making you shudder.

his pace was fast and rough as he fucked you mercilessly into the mattress while leaving hickeys everywhere he can, angling his thrust so he’d perfectly hit your prostate. “you’re only mine. no mundanes, or shadowhunters, or downworlders can get to lay their hands on you but me. i’m the only one who get to fuck you like this...” his words went straight to your already hard-enough cock, arousing you even further.

it’s always hot whenever alec gets possessive over you, and you loved that.

“oh my god, alec— right there!” you moaned, now tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. his thrust starts to get sloppy as both of you near the edge, you could feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside your hole.

it took three harsh and hard thrust to completely throw you off as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, loud moans that sounded almost like a scream erupting from your throat, back arching and body squirming underneath him as white loads shoots out again from your manhood, landing on your exposed chest and stomach, cumming hard. your walls tightened around him while you cum and that was enough for alec to spill his hot seed inside you, filling you up good like always.

pulling out, he collapsed on the bed beside you, catching your breath together and slowly calming down from your high. “great thing your room is soundproof.” alec comments, making you both chuckle.

“yeah, that’s one thing i love about this room.” you laughed and he did as well before pulling you so you could rest your head on his chest, listening to his even and rhythmic heartbeat.

cleaning up can wait tomorrow. for now, you two wanted to cuddle up with each other knowing there has to be a lot of pretending again.

jace, isabelle, clary and magnus all sat exasperated on the couch as they watch you and alec go back and fourth over the cup and valentine, both arguing and insulting each other for about an hour now.

it’s a usual day, with you and alec hating the other using the sharpness of your tongues, but they were getting tired of this constant bickering and slight sexual tension that always rose in the air.

magnus had just recently discovered your hatred for each other and at first he found it amusing, but that soon turned into boredom when it became an occasional sight for him. though, he can admit that your tongue is sharper than alec’s and he’s impressed by that.

“valentine is a shadowhunter, alright? he’d be able to get the cup from here.” you argued, giving the lightwood a pointed look.

alec folded his arms, “not if we guard it.”

you raised your brows and a ‘really?’ look crossed your face. “have you forgotten that he killed thousands of shadowhunters and downworlders, or did you become so old that your memory gaps is getting worse?” he shot you a death glare at that, not liking the tone you use on him.

“okay so,” clary stands up, “why don’t you both just calm down and figure this out in a friendly way?” you and alec snapped your gaze towards her, eyes practically sending daggers. she held her hands up, “or maybe not. but can’t you just... uh- not fight, for once?”

“not my problem he’s irritating.” you retorted with arms folded above your chest.

alec rolled his eyes, “well, not my problem either that he’s annoying.” he exclaimed while his index finger pointed at you.

“you two look like an old married couple.” isabelle comments with a teasing smirk dancing on her lips. you and alec froze in your places and looked at her with unreadable expression before turning back at each other.

it felt good hearing that, since you two are dating.

the conversation were interrupted when maryse approaches, her hands fiddling with each other and a nervous look on her face.

you sighed, stepping away to walk out, but maryse quickly stops you when you walked pass her. “stay, please. this involves you, too.” confusion laced your face at that, but didn’t say anything as you stepped back.

“i know that the feud between (y/n)’s mother and i have caused some troubles within you, and we’re very sorry for that. we decided... it’s better to forget what happened between us rather than drag it down and have it affect all of you.” she turned around and gestured for someone to come, your mother walking up to her, their hand intertwining in a friendly manner as smiles coated their faces.

surprise filled everyone’s face, brows raising. “wait, does this mean you two are friends now?” isabelle asked.

your mother smiled, nodding her head. “we had a genuine conversation last night and found out we had more similarities than we thought we would.”

jace, clary and isabelle smiled at one another while magnus sipped on his drink, feeling quite happy for them. this meant you and alec had no reason to hate each other.

“so this isn’t a joke? you’re not pretending?” you asked, suspicion on both yours and alec’s face. they shook their heads and smiled.

you stared at them before turning to alec who looked back at you, silently conversing.

finally, a sigh leaves his lips as you simultaneously looked at the two mothers with a smile. “that’s a great news, mother. i hope you have fun together.” he congratulates, smiling. “now, (y/n) and i have somewhere else to go. i assume there won’t be any missions for today.”

surprise looks coated everyone’s faces and their eyes almost popped out of their sockets when you intertwined your hand with his. you waved at them, alec beginning to drag you two away.

“hold on a second, where are you going? and what does that mean?” jace quickly asked, pointing at your intertwined hands after he stood up from the couch.

“isn’t it obvious?” alec gives him a look, “we’re going on a date. now, make an effort not to interrupt us.” he continued to pull you.

“have fun with mom, mrs. lightwood!” you said with a smile before disappearing out with alec.

everyone still looked shocked.

“well, that took a turn.” magnus smirked, drinking his tequila.

© prettymadness — all rights reserved. do not repost or translate without my permission. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[khaleesiofalicante]

ALEC WEEK - ALEC ANGST

“I got this one,” Alec yelled over his shoulder and ran after the demon.

Being the Consul involved a lot of desk work. While Alec did appreciate getting to stay at home with Magnus and the kids…

Well, he was a Shadowhunter after all.

He had kind of missed this. The patrols. The adrenaline.

Most of all, fighting with Jace.

So, when Jace had asked him to join him on patrol, Alec had jumped on the opportunity.

But now of course he was regretting it a little bit.

When Alec had said he wanted to kick some demon ass, he had been hoping for a dozen at most.

Not this.

They had fought almost double that so far and there was many more on the way.

Jace used to call himself a chick-magnet long time ago. But in actuality, his parabatai was a demon-magnet.

Wherever Jace went, they just seemed to hang out in hoards.

They had strategized to find the greator demon that was sending out the little minions. Alec had followed one while Jace followed another. It got darker and darker with every step until Alec found himself drowning in the night. Maybe he had wondered into a cave or something.

He quickly activated his night vision rune. But it didn’t help.

This wasn’t a cave. This was magic. Demonic magic.

“Alec!” he heard Jace yell. “Can you see anything?”

“No!” Alec yelled back.

Jace sounded like he was both close and miles away.

“This is some sort of trick,” Alec said.

“Yeah, no shit,” Jace yelled back. “Let’s get out of here.”

It was then Alec heard a low chuckle.

There was something eerily familiar about it. It sounded like someone he recognized – almost.

They were still plunged in darkness, but somehow Alec noticed a figure emerge. He pointed his bow at the man.

It looked like a man. Tall. Lean. Well built. Strong.

Oh god. Surely not another prince of hell. Haven’t they had enough of those things?

The closer it got, the faster Alec’s heart started to beat.

He knew he should run. But he didn’t.

The presence felt both like a threat and an ally at the same time.

Alec didn't want to hesitate any longer. He let the arrow fly.

The figure pulled out a bow out of nowhere and let his own arrow fly. It was like watching lightening. The figure’s arrow clashed with his own and burst into dust.

“Nice shot,” the figure said as it approached him. “Next time don’t hesitate so much. It can get you killed.”

“Jace!” Alec shouted.

But there was no response.

“Who are you?” Alec yelled at the figure.

He didn’t know why we was yelling. But it seemed like the right thing to do. His shirt was soaking in sweat, his fingers trembling slightly.

“It’s me,” the voice said.

As the figure closer, a small gasp escaped Alec’s mouth. He would recognize the figure anywhere.

Even in the depths of such darkness.

“Or should I say, it’s you.”

Alec took a step back.

It was him.

It was Alec. In shadowhunter gear. His hair out of place. His bow and quiver hanging on his side.

It was Alec and it wasn’t.

Despite all the similarities, Alec knew it wasn’t him.

This one seemed…empty.

Or full.

He didn’t know.

But what gave him away was his fingers - And the lack of his favorite and only piece of jewelry.

There was no wedding band.

“Stay back, you son of a bitch,” Alec didn’t hesitate this time.

“Is that anyway to talk about our mother?” other Alec chuckled.

“This is some sort of demonic trick,” Alec said, mostly to himself.

“Duh,” Other Alec rolled his eyes, the gesture intimately familiar.

Alec let another arrow fly but again – he just wasn’t fast enough.

It was almost as if the Other Alec knew what he was going to do.

“Of course, I know what you’re going to do,” Other Alec said. “I’m you, aren’t I?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I know what you’re thinking too,” Other Alec pointed out. “Right now, you’re thinking if Jace is okay.”

Alec held up his bow again even though it was pointless.

“He is okay,” Other Alec waved him off. “He has his own nightmare to deal with.”

Nightmares.

Baku.

“You’re Baku,” Alec said, feeling slightly triumphant. “Eater of dreams. Greator Demon of Nightmares.”

“Well, technically, I’m Alec Lightwood,” the demon shrugged. “Consul in Exile.”

“Alec Lightwood-Bane,” he corrected out of habit.

“Of course,” Other Alec put up his hands, his bare fingers making him more and more worried.

“What is this supposed to be?” Alec demanded. “A nightmare? I’m not scared of you.”

“Aren’t you?” Other Alec cocked his head. “You are your greatest fear, Alec.”

“Bullshit,” Alec spit. “I’m not afraid of myself. Not anymore.”

“Are we sure about that?” Other Alec asked again.

“Yes,” Alec snapped. “I can’t hurt myself anymore.”

“Well,” Other Alec shrugged. “You can still hurt others.”

Alec stared.

It was like the demon had shot him with an arrow. Right in the chest. 

“I know you, remember?” Other Alec grinned. “I’ve seen your dreams. Your nightmares.”

“You know nothing!” Alec yelled and let another arrow fly.

Useless. Other Alec dodged it effortlessly.

“How many people should keep getting hurt, Alec?” his own voiced asked himself. “How many people should get hurt because of your incomptency?”

His throat felt dry. His head ached.

He heard the questions from Other Alec who was in front of him.

But he heard them echo inside his head too. Like he was thinking these thoughts right now.

As if he had been thinking them forever.

“I’m not incompetent!” Alec said through gritted teeth.

“Say that to Max,” Other Alec sneered.

Alec’s heart clenched.

“Or Dad,” Other Alec whispered.

And then it broke.

“I-I tried,” Alec stammered. “I tried to save them.”

“You weren’t even there,” Other Alec accused.

“Stop it!” Alec let another arrow fly.

Nothing.

“You know, it’s ironic that they named you Alexander,” Other Alec chuckled. “When have you ever protected anyone? All you’ve done is hurt people.”

“Shut up!” Alec yelled.

“You tried to hurt Clary because you were angry and jealous. You did hurt Magnus because you were angry and jealous. You tried to kill Camille. You did kill Meliorn. So, who’s next?”

“I’ve changed,” Alec argued, he didn’t know why. “I’ve grown.”

“Growing into a sorry excuse of a man,” the demon laughed. “Now they’ve made you Consul. What a great opportunity to let your entire race down!”

“I won’t!” Alec yelled, even though he had had already had nightmares about this very thing. “I won’t let them down. They chose me!”

“Oh please,” Other Alec rolled his eyes. “No one would have even considered you if it wasn’t for Jace. He felt sorry for you because you never get the spotlight. And everyone who voted for you did it because they felt sorry for you because you lost dad. It was a pity vote.”

“Get out of my head!” Alec screamed. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything.”

“On contrary,” Other Alec grinned. “I know you better than anyone.”

“Bullshit,” Alec said again.

“I’m your greatest fear, Alec,” the other man said.

“Because your cocky and rude?” Alec demanded, gaining his confidence back. “I don’t think so.”

“Because of this,” Other Alec raised his empty hand.

Alec swallowed.

“I would never remove my ring!” he said, his voice hoarse. “Never.”

“Aw,” Other Alec said. “Not even if Magnus asked you to give it back?”

The confidence that was slowly building inside him felt apart like a wave crashing into land.

“That’s right,” the man said. “He took it back. He took rafe. He left.”

“Magnus would never,” Alec said, clutching his own wedding ring.

The other Alec just grinned.

“Rafe,” Alec said suddenly. “You said he took Rafe. What happened to Max?”

Stop it. This isn’t real! But Alec couldn’t listen to that voice. Just the one before him.

“That name is cursed,” Other Alec said sadly. “Or maybe it’s just you. You’re not good enough to protect anyone.”

“Max is fine,” Alec told himself. “Max is okay. He is in the institute.”

“Not for long,” the Other Alec said in a sing song voice. “You will get him killed too. He will die. Alone and afraid. Just like your brother.”

Alec leaped at himself, but the figure simply disappeared and appeared in a different spot.

“Touched a nerve, huh?” Other Alec chuckled. “I wonder why.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Alec let arrow after arrow fly.

Nothing.

“Useless,” Other Alec chuckled. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“You will not touch my family!” Alec pointed an arrow. He’d stab the fucking thing to death if he had to. “Do you hear me?”

“I would never!” Other Alec sounded offended. “But can’t say the same for you though.”

“I will never hurt my family,” Alec replied, his voice getting lower and lower.

“You already have,” Other Alec pointed out. “Giving up immortality? Wow. What a slap in the face for Magnus. You know he could have had anyone, right?”

“We made the decision together!” Alec yelled. “Magnus wanted this too!”

“Of course he did, you selfish prick!” Other Alec yelled back. “He did because you did! It’s what you wanted. Because of your precious parabatai.”

“But J-Jace-” Alec stammered.

“You know,” Other Alec’s voice turned into a husky whisper, like he was sharing a secret. “Magnus knows. He has always known you would choose Jace over him.”

“This is just a dream,” Alec whispered to himself desperately. “Just a dream.”

“How about what happened in Thule?” Other Alec asked. “Was that just a dream too?”

Alec gasped.

“Never thought you’d have it in you,” Other Alec whistled. “You’re savage.”

“It wasn’t me!” Alec yelled.

“Wasn’t it?” the other man shrugged.

“All this talk about loving one man and changing the world for him and yet you killed him him with your own hands,” Other Alec shook his head in disappointment. “Magnus deserved better.”

“Don’t talk about Magnus like you know him!” Alec snapped.

“Oh fine. But I do know you, Alec Lightwood,” Other Alec moved closer. “I know your future. You might keep him happy now. But you will be his suffering. You will be his Bane.”

Images of Magnus flashed before his eyes. Magnus coping with his loss. Magnus not coping so well.

“Please,” Alec almost begged. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing at all,” the figure moved back. “I just wanted to talk.”

“You’re not gonna kill me?” Alec asked.

“What’s the fun in that?” Other Alec asked. “I’d rather keep you alive and watch you suffer.

“Get out,” Alec ordered, even though he knew he had no power.

“So sensitive,” Other Alec chuckled. “Fine. I’ll go for now. You better watch out, Alec Lightwood. Bad things are coming.”

“You stay away from, Magnus!” Alec yelled. 

“I could say the same to you,” Other Alec pouted. “Leave him. For his sake. For the sake of your childr-.”

“If you touch my kids-”

“I won’t,” Other Alec raised his hands. “But can’t say the same about their grandfather however.”

“Stay out of my head,” Alec hissed.

“No promises,” the demon of nightmares winked.

Alec felt the darkness slowly dissipate. His heartbeat getting stronger.

The shivers on his arms were just going down when he heard the voice in ear one last time.

“Oh, one last thing,” his own voice whispered. “Give my regards to Izzy.”

Alec’s body shuddered at that and he fell on his knees.

“Hey. Hey. Hey,” Jace was already by his side. “You okay?”

Alec just nodded, still trying to get back to reality.

“Dude, I’d take an army of raveners over this any day,” Jace said, looking rattled in a long time. “This shit was creepy as hell.”

“What did you see?” Alec asked.

“Some psycho version of myself. He kept talking about killing Clary,” Jace laughed, even though Alec sensed the nervousness in his voice. “As if that’s ever gonna happen.”

Alec nodded and slowly got up.

“What did you see?” Jace asked.

Alec thought of Other Alec.

The one without the ring. The one he knew would haunt his dreams every night from now on.

“Spiders,” he said. “Just stupid spiders.”

[thechangeling]

Ok @the-wckd-powers inspired me to make this. These are my tsc neurodivirgent headcannins based partly on my observations from the books and also partly just vibes.

I'm not including the canon stuff like Ty bring autistic or Jace having C-pstd because.. it's canon or at least basically canon.

Christopher: I know he's cannonly nd but I personally hc him as autistic/adhd.

Lucie: Listen I personally feel like she's also autistic/adhd.

Alastair: We saw this one coming. C-PTSD. I also feel depression as well. Also someone said he's autistic and now I can't unsee it. My boy is in fact autistic. Argue with the wall.

Matthew: Depression. I wouldn't say any ptsd because I just don't really think that's the case. He has trauma sure, but trauma does not equal ptsd. Also someone who has bpd said bpd and I totally see it. For those of you who don't know, bpd is categorized by difficulties in regulating emotion. (As I understand it. I'm not diagnosed.) Also by very intense often stormy interpersonal relationships.

Clary: I hc as autistic/adhd with very minimal evidence just vibes. Sometimes you look at a character and are like... yeah you're not nt.

Alec: MY BOY IS AUTISTIC! ARGUE WITH THE WALL!

Magnus: Oh yeah he definitely has C-PTSD. By the way if you didn't know, c-ptsd is complex post traumatic stress disorder. It is categorized by exposure to REPEATED trauma, as in continuous abuse or neglect. PTSD is just for one single traumatic event.

Will: He definitely experienced depression throughout his teen years. He seems to be fine now in tlh.

Jem: I can't decide on PTSD or C-PTSD. The thing with his parents when he was s kid was one event but you could argue that living with the disease for years after was traumatic enough to give him C-PTSD. Idk. But he doesnt really show many signs of trauma after TID? (This is my issue with CC's portrayal of trauma btw. It ends when their story arc ends or they get together with their love interest. But whatever.)

Henry: Listen, I know everyone says autistic but personally I feel like he has adhd on account if the fact that he is hyper oblivious to most things and has the ability to hyper focus on his experiments.

Charlotte: GAD. Generalized anxiety disorder. Look, this women has been running the institute since she was 18, looking after Will and Jem, and Jesse's ungrateful ass. Then she became the first female consul at 23 and now she's dealing with all the misogyny from the Clave as well as being a mother of two boys. Matthew is....Matthew and Charles is.....Charles. There is no way this women didn't develop an anxiety disorder. Argue with the wall.

Kit: ADHD and C-PTSD. Obviously. I could also make a case for depression too.

Mark: ADHD. As for as I'm concerned this is basically canon. C-PTSD as well.

Kieran: Ok here's a bit of a wild card but to me it makes sense. BPD. Bpd is the result of trauma which tracks. Kieran's emotional needs were definitely not met as a child which could definitely result in emotional dysregulation as well as an intense fear of abandonment and the desire to do anything possible to prevent that abandonment.

Cristina: GAD. No evidence just vibes.

Ty: Dysgraphia and Dyscalculia because yes I am projecting but also they are both comorbid with autism. Ty is also cannonly really bad at math and has issues with writing, often pressing way too hard on the pencil which is a dysgraphia thing. Also I'm pretty sure he along with the rest of the Blackthorns are supposed to cannonly have ptsd but I don't really see it with him tbh.

Emma: PTSD.

Julian: C-PTSD.

Tavvy: Actually I would argue he has C-PTSD because he kept being exposed to terrible shit at such a young age.

Dru: C-PTSD.

Ash: C-PTSD.

Helen: C-PTSD obviously and also depression. I just get the vibes.

Jaime: I see him has autistic. I could be projecting but to me he's just giving off vibes.

Livvy: Autistic. Ty can't be the only one in seven siblings I call bullshit. Also it just makes sense go look up @the-wckd-powers and I's asks about this. Also ngl I don't feel C-PTSD for her either tbh. The twins are def traumatized but they don't seem to have PTSD.

Ok that's it. As far as I'm considered everyone else is nt. I might change my mind later on though.

@littlx-songbxrd

[the-backspin-alchemist]

1, 2, 3, 4 Since Wizard College is a running gag in this campaign, 5, 8, 12, 13, 18, 19, 20

1) A story for every scar. Do any of their wounds have interesting origins? 

He's still got the scars across his chest and abdomen from fighting his mother and nearly dying the first time around. He also may or may not have acquired a new scar across his back from getting blasted with necrotic magic by a golden dragon (long story)

2) Three songs that show their character progression. 

That show *progression,* huh?

Alright. I think gonna stick mostly to the Haverthorne arc and beyond because before that he didn't GET much development beyond being an angsty jerkass. While in the Haverthorne arc he got a lot more of the spotlight and got fleshed out a lot more.

Getting to Haverthorne and dealing with Billy Estrive and his bullshit holding a mirror to his traumatic past, and thereby turning into a very angry asshole in the process: Keys to the Kingdom - Linkin Park

Post-Haverthorne breakdown/after killing Billy Estrive and leaving the Guild: Breaking The Habit - Linkin Park

Coming back and returning to the Guild after finding his parents' notebooks, and realizing he kinda couldn't just stay out of things again: Robot Boy - Linkin Park

3) If they were a god which god would they be? 

This is a tricky one because Jace would repeatedly deny that he's anywhere close to worthy of godhood. He doesn't want it, doesn't believe he would make a good god figure at ALL. So if for some reason it were thrust upon him in the way it kinda ends up being in DND every so often...I dunno, maybe he'd want to take some sort of redemptive role. Become the god of the outcasts, perhaps.

Or, alternatively, challenge Lolth to a fistfight. And just become God Of Punching Lolth to Death.

4) What was their favourite subject at school?

Botany.

His dad was an apothecary, so he learned a lot about the sort of stuff that's out there in the wild from him.

He also did like learning to swordfight from his mom, as well.

5) What does their voice sound like? 

Hmmmmm...I think I'd prolly cast Alex Zahara to voice him if I had to. He's been sounding more and more like Lockon Stratos in my head. It helps that there are character parallels. 

8) What would their favourite tv show be? 

Hmmmmmmm...okay ignoring movies I think he would find Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood to bea really good and he'd resonate so much with Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang collectively, given that they're trying to atone for having been involved in awful stuff.

Non-animation runner-up would prolly beeeeee The Witcher, again because of similar themes of atoning and finding family.

12) Do they have a type? 

I mean for a while it was just. Ashes.

Recent events have thrown that into a complicated mess, though.

Given that he's ace(ish), not quite, but also kinda, in that he likes anyone that's actually kind to people while also being able to have a decent sense of humor. Which in the current party is basically two people. There's maybe a third NPC I could see him getting attached to if they spent time actually, like, conversing, but that hasn't really happened since the party rescued said NPC and her friends, and said NPC has eyes elsewhere as it is (and Jace would see this and kinda just...remove himself from the equation, as he tends to do as his usual reaction to such situations).

13) Playing video games, would they be a completionist, a speed runner, how would they play? 

He'd be one of those people that does one run to experience the story properly, and a second run to get the Golden Ending if he didn't get it before.   

18) What would their ideal home be like? 

Goooood question....

Someplace with a small place to live, but with enough land to set up an herb garden and a shooting range for archery practice, plus or minus some space to set up for a pet mimic and a displacer cub or two.

19) What would they like their mark in history to be?

Honestly at this point he'd be happy if he could just manage to not be known for killing his mother. Sure, she was causing a lot of problems, and while some surface-dwellers might thing he's a hero for ending her if they found out it was him that did it, it was far and away the worst moment of his life, and is NOT something he wants to be known for, even as a war hero.

Hell, he'd love for everyone to just forget that, and to fade into obscurity.

20) If they could be a dragon, would they be a dragon? 

At one point, probably, but now that he's met a few dragons the prospect has soured on him a bit...

[ladyhindsight]

Here we go.

On page 4, Clary gives Simon this as the reason for her trip to Idris, which is ridiculous because what does that got to do with anything? My notes read: “OR maybe he’ll trust you because you are Jocelyn’s daughter??”

Then on page 8 Clary tells the following to Jace who is trying to persuade Clary to not go:

Which is entirely logical, but pray tell, why on earth does Clary say anything like “looking so much like” Jocelyn to Simon when Madeleine has already told Ragnor to expect Jocelyn’s daughter? (who does look a lot like her, yes)

Why must the reasons for the trip be explained twice with different reasoning, and why am I already confused?

The first clause stands perfectly well on its own without any additional explaining, i.e. hand-holding. As if the meaning is evident from the glance that was shot and the words following said glance.

Clary and Jace’s siblinghood has been incredibly over-pronounced, especially in the previous book. No other siblings constantly remind the readers that they are, indeed, siblings. Almost like the writing would reeaally like the readers to believe that they are related to each other...

No comma, still the same subject. We were doing so great till the page 9.

How to Make Your Characters More Sympathetic: Being Grateful for Minor Tangential Things While Otherwise Being Ungrateful About a Lot of Other, Often More Significant Things - A Guide for Better Characterization

Clary going to Idris and Luke not liking it is no reason for him to withhold his care nor hold it hostage. This is a nonissue.

Again, participle phrases signal concurrency, that two or more things are happening at the same time. Clary can’t tear through the paper and seize something soft at the same time.

→ “Clary tore though it. Her hand seized on something soft...”

Orange arrows are pointing towards two clauses that are separated with a comma from the main clause. Comma, however, in these cases comes after “or” only if is followed by an independent clause, which neither of these are.

The pink arrow, just no.

“You look beautiful, Clary.” “It suits you wonderfully, Clary.” “It truly draws out your best features, Clary.” Literally any other answer than this dark moody-broody bullshit that has got nothing to do with Clary and how she looks in the cloak. Luke bought Clary the coat/cloak because he saw it and he thought of her. Yet now, as Luke has said this, it seems like it only actually reminded him of Jocelyn and Clary acts as a proxy to her. Or that Clary’s similarity to her mother makes Luke treat Clary as a reminder of Jocelyn.

About Clary wanting Simon to go back to normal: On page two it is said that

“They’d only called off their attempt at a romantic relationship last week, and she still felt confused whenever she saw him.”

First of all, it was more Simon’s attempt rather than both of theirs. Secondly, Simon’s “normal” was always being in love with Clary. Clary is still confused about their relationship. Simon should be allowed to deal with his feelings too, in addition to those of dying and turning into a vampire, especially without Clary just wanting things easier for herself.

Though Clary wanting normality and familiarity back in her life is understandable, it is also a bit egocentric and leaves Simon’s feelings out of it.

→ “...when he heard several familiar voices nearby.”

→ “He didn’t have to elaborate on what he meant. Jace’s face told Simon that he remembered.” (END)

What else could they possibly be remembering? It is a basic assumption that by the third book the reader has read previous parts of the story and is able to recall such a major event without these recaps shoved in.

No, if you like to support men’s healthy emotional life.

Maybe you could if Jace ever shared his plans with them instead of keeping them to himself and assuming without even trying. Maybe if he then discussed it, planned it, talked it out, he could at least say he tried to keep Clary’s abilities secret.

Jace’s faith in Clary is also outstanding. She apparently has no potential even with training. Also, are you talking about the same Clary who is shoving herself into every fight and battle without any training still? Yeah, why on earth would she want to be a fighter.

Additionally, while Jace and Simon are planning and deciding everything for Clary behind her back, has either of them even thought to ask her what she might want for herself? Or is she too ignorant to decide whether she wants official training?

Oh, shut up, Simon. Everyone knows that for once Jace meddling into Clary’s business is not about that. I also don’t think Clary is aware that she is in desperate need of help, Jace just decided that on his own.

The brown part highlights a sentence that has no main verb (to perform an action). 

→ “Simon hesitated. Before he could respond, a noise split the silence between them—a high, shrieking cry, terrible in its desperation and worse...”

Also who said the last line?  → ““What was that?” Jace said, whirling around.”

Abominable comma. The cries and the clangs are both performing the same action.

→ “The single shriek was joined by other cries and a harsh clang that...”

Before me is chaos.

→ “A white mist blanketed the garden. There was a heavy smell in the air—the sharp tang of ozone and something sweet and unpleasant under it.”

I’d either scrap the sentence underlined with yellow (because it pauses the action) or tie it together with the previous sentence. For instance:

→ “He glimpsed Isabelle, her hair snapping around her in black ropes as she swung her whip that made a deadly fork of golden lightning through the shadows.”

Besides emphasis, em dashes in the middle of a sentence can be used to give additional information that is not essential to understand the rest of the sentence. It is a break in a sentence that already stands and is understood on its own. Yet here the sentence without Simon’s additional information would be:

“She was fending off the advance of something lumbering and huge, but it was full daylight; that was impossible.” Which doesn’t make sense at all. In addition to punctuation, some things need switching around:

→ “She was fending off the advance of something lumbering and huge—a demon, Simon thought. But that was impossible; it was full daylight.” or

→ “She was fending off the advance of something lumbering and huge. A demon, Simon thought, but that was impossible; it was full daylight.”

→ “It swung a thick wooden plank (it carried in one hand) at Isabelle almost blindly.”

→ “...back and forth inside it. Simon felt as if he were...”

→ “Isabelle has vanished. He saw Alec, his arm bleeding...” (no semicolon because the clauses aren’t closely related.)

→ “...a blade in each hand. He leaped into the air..”

→ “...with a vicious scissoring movement. The Forsaken’s head tumbled...”

Most of the action taking place in this scene is filtered through Simon. Simon sees this, Simon feels that etc. Since we already do know that Simon is the observer:

→ “The Shadowhunters were calling to one another out of the mist...”

→ “Suddenly the mist cleared. Magnus was standing wild-eyed by the wall...”

→ “...blue lightning sparking between them. Against the wall...”

Ave Atque Vale, Madeleine. You served your relevant-for-only-one-thing purpose as best you could.

I’m sensing a trend regarding em dashes in this chapter.

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

Gold Beneath His Threshold

For @facialteeth​ Summary: Although Clary goes to Idris with her mother and it looks as though the only one with a promising love life is Alec, a certain demon decides th dip his finger into the parabatai pie and stir things up. Results do not disappoint.

Pairing: Jace Herondale / Alec Lightwood

A/N:  I hope you like your gift 💙💙💙

Read it on ao3: HERE

It started in his childhood and it carried through into his young adult years. Alec became convinced he was a favourite of the angels, even though sometimes they had an odd way of showing it. One day when he was twelve, he found himself alone again, waiting for his mother in her office, having to receive punishment for his latest mess-up. He had gotten into a fight with an older boy who had been bullying him for months…. And he had won! He was shorter, smaller and younger, but he could take way more pain than the other boy. His bullying problem was now a thing of the past; the other kids kept their distance, knowing Lightwood was weird, but also willing and able to kick their asses. But for Maryse, that hadn’t been good enough. “We are Lightwoods, we don’t go around beating people up. There are other ways to solve conflicts! You are not thinking like a future leader, Alec!”

Later, it had been his father, calling him to his office to administer the punishment, and Alec had caught himself thinking, while he lay on his bed on his belly, because his butt and thighs were covered in red welts, that there would have to be one thing, one thing only, that made sense in his life. That made it all worth it - the humiliation, the being forgotten only to be remembered when he messed up even when he thought he did well, the hostility with which his own mother treated him, the feeling he was a mistake that should have never existed.

And the angels had replied right away. The next day, they sent him a ten year old boy - whom his parents decided to take in because he was Michael Wayland’s son, and Robert still felt guilty about his parabatai’s fate. From the moment Jace walked into the room where Alec trained, roasting his technique, Alec felt like he’d been given sunshine to carry in his pocket at all times. The boys became inseparable and soon Izzy was old enough to join them and keep up with Jace’s antics. Jace was beautiful and smart and loyal, and he made Alec laugh and smile so much his cheeks hurt every day, which was a blessing after the increasing number of punishments he had to endure, both for his perceived shortcomings and for being the eldest and letting Jace get the three of them in trouble. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Jace. He took pride in it. He would stand in his mother’s office, thinking “you can’t punish me as much as I can take, just watch.” But as time went by and they grew up, Jace also grew a spine for the three of them. He found it natural to talk back at Robert and Maryse, to question their orders and to tell them to back off when they picked either Izzy or Alec as an easier target for their brand of retaliatory discipline. It was getting ridiculous, he said. You can’t send soldiers out in the field and expect them to do a good job if they are still wincing from their butts being full of welts. Also, there was a certain age after which it was odd to want your teenage child to bare themselves for you to beat them.

And it worked, because Jace was also fluent in the language that abusive leaders used, violence, coercion, veiled or overt threats and blackmail. He had been raised by a far bigger monster than Maryse could ever aspire to be and although his father had tried to shape him into the perfect, unfeeling killing machine, Jace had always had an unbreakable compass which was impervious to bullshit, but still allowed him to play along and make his abusers wallow in a sense of control until it was time to strike. Alec felt overcome with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify whenever he looked at Jace. It was more than loyalty, maybe even more than devotion. He decided love covered it pretty well, but it was a big concept which contained all the facets of the feeling. Alec compared it to getting a really big box and going to the store, asking for a scoop of every flavour of ice cream. This was why it didn’t come as a surprise to him when, one day as he was sparring with Jace and the younger boy had gained the upper hand, sending Alec to the floor and straddling him to pin his arms to the floor above his head, a wave of desire crashed into him. Jace was above him, glistening with a sheen of sweat and panting, his golden hair sticking together in thick strands, damp with sweat. Jace looked feral for a moment, in prey to the adrenaline of the fight, but his eyes quickly shifted to reflect the warm affection he held only for Alec. For the older boy, it was as though someone had sucked all the air in the room out. Everything was amplified and his senses seemed sharper, he could hear Jace’s heartbeat and couldn’t look away from his bare chest, rising and falling with the staccato pace of his breathing; he became painfully aware of Jace’s now hard peak nipples and his eyes traced a droplet of sweat making its way down Jace’s chest until gravity forced it to fall onto his own chest. Also, their current position made it so that their cocks were crushed together in a distracting way. Alec closed his eyes briefly, letting the feeling wash over him. It made him buck beneath Jace and he made a pitiful sound, somewhere between surrender and panic. “Is this you tapping out?” Jace asked, adjusting his position, pressing his weight even harder into Alec. This did not help their dick situation and Alec felt himself harden. He nodded, unsure why he worried so much. This was Jace and Jace handed his ass to him all the time. Nothing special about the occasion. Jace freed his hands and got up, releasing Alec from his hold altogether. Alec stayed on the floor, sitting for a bit longer, wondering why being bested in combat put him into such a state this time around. But then Jace used the towel he had brought to wipe off his sweat, then threw it at Alec, expecting him to catch it and use it too. The towel hit Alec across the face. Instead of smelling like horse or old socks, like sweat usually did, Jace smelled like freshly baked bread, sunny summer days and everything that Alec associated with the feeling of joy. He barely caught himself and held back from burying his face into the towel and sniffing it like a cat with a valerian pillow. Not long after that, Jace asked Alec to be his parabatai and obviously, Alec said yes. Obviously, because he could not picture his life without Jace in it anymore and they were better together in every way. Jace had the courage and confidence when Alec struggled with them, and Alec had the strategic thinking and the protective nature where Jace was reckless and impulsive. *** They were considered grown men by Nephilim standards, but to mundanes and Downworlders, they were still young and inexperienced in many ways except killing and fighting. This was why so many mistakes were made when Clary and the tornado of events she brought crashed into their lives. For one reason or the other, Jace seemed to lose all touch with reality and support Clary on her wild chases, risking their lives, their standing with the Clave and pretty much everything else. Alec felt abandoned and forgotten again. He reminded himself that good things never last and allowed himself to go through a grieving process on fast forward, where at first he was angry at Jace and ended up resigning himself to having nothing and no one who cared about him in the way he needed. But he could not order his body or his emotions to fall in line with his new approach and that was the source of his constant pain. Pain which gave him the worst, darkest goggles to see life through. He didn’t see that Jace panicked and saw the whole Shadow World burn in front of his mind’s eye when it became clear that Valentine had the means and the opportunity to wipe out every Downworlder in existence with one wish. It was this desolate state Alec found himself in when he met Magnus Bane, the charming High Warlock of Brooklyn. Magnus did not have to give him attention, but he did. And he did not have to single him out and place him above everyone else, but he did that too. It felt good - of course it did - and Alec dared to smile again.

But Clary again muddied the waters. The way she was treating Jace was so entitled and impatient, bulldozing his needs and his past wounds just because she hadn’t been there to see him get them, so to her they did not matter that much. Soon, Jace was hurting again, and since no one had taught him how to deal with that, he put the entire blame onto himself. He and Clary were no longer a thing soon and Alec watched his carefully constructed routine crumble again. Izzy had broken up with Meliorn and was trying to mutilate her personality into becoming Maryse 2.0. Jace hadn’t slept a full night in weeks and cried himself to sleep at night, only to be woken by nightmares and his own screams.

Clary soon chose to move to Idris to be with her mother. Jocelyn thought they would be safer from Valentine there and, for once thinking like a true Shadowhunter, she wanted to take the heat off the New York Institute and make it obvious to the Clave that the Valentine problem was not some fiction made up by teens playing around with runes and angelic relics, but a very real and immediate threat.

Before Clary left, Izzy planned a small goodbye party in the Institute events hall. Clary gave each of them a present, to thank them for their help and friendship. To Jace, she gave two open-date tickets to the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, winking as she told him he would know when to use them. Jace hugged her and kissed her hair, the gesture looking more like what a big brother would do, rather than a lover. Clearly, that short chapter in their lives had not made the first edit. To Izzy, she gave a letter from the Iron Sisters. Jocelyn had used some of her old connections and had gotten Izzy an invitation to visit the place where all Shadowhunter weapons were made. Izzy started crying and hugged Clary, making her promise to visit and send a lot of fire messages. She even promised Clary to finally look into installing Discord on her phone so they could keep in touch more easily. Finally, to Alec, she gave a book, telling him it would answer his most pressing question for him when he got to the end. Alec looked at the book. It was “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho and he seethed inwardly. It was “Eat Pray Love” for people who had gone to college and Alec had heard about the book and its subject matter. He considered it a total wank, from what he’d heard. But Clary was leaving, so maybe, as a way of celebrating, he would ask Jace to let him use his tub and read the book front to back as a way to close the Clary chapter in their lives.

Life went back to normal after Clary and Jocelyn’s departure. Well. The new normal, where Alec was the only one of the three whose life and mental health were not falling apart. He found time to go on that date he and Magnus had kept postponing. It was not… unpleasant, and Alec learned several things about himself. One, he really didn’t do well with alcohol. And he didn’t care how childish it made him seem. Jace was the only person who didn’t constantly mock him for not liking to drink. Beer really tasted like ass. And so did tequila shots. Two, yep, he was gay. Magnus was super pretty. But, for whatever reason, he couldn’t picture himself doing anything more than hugging and holding hands with Magnus. He had already planted a smooch on the warlock, as an act of rebellion against his parents and the Clave at his almost-wedding to Lydia… but he hoped being in love didn’t involve bricking it before every time a show of physical affection happened. Although, in fairness, not all intimate acts had the entire Clave watching closely. Three, things were definitely going too fast and he had long lost control of the wheel. There was a madman intent on ending their entire world out there, Edom was gaining power, Seelies, Vampires and Werewolves were treating the Accords like a pamphlet and Warlocks were disappearing off to realms known only to them in preparation for the upcoming war. And there he was, Lieutenant Head of the New York Institute, getting his panties in a twist over the fact that a hot warlock wanted to take him home and fuck the living daylights out of him. Which, in any other circumstance, would have been perfection. But although his mind tried hard to reason with Alec, pointing out that “hey, someone wants to bang you. No one ever wants to bang you. Do you really want to die a virgin? Because you will die sooner than you will find someone again”, his body put the brakes on the whole thing. So, after their date, instead of going to the loft with Magnus, Alec told him he had an early morning meeting he had to prepare for. Upset by the perceived rejection, Magnus left, but not without making a polite exit. After all, he could understand cold feet. The reason he was so attracted to Alec was how special and rare of a creature he was. But he still left Alec with the tab. The cute bartender who had seen the whole exchange pointed to the tap and asked Alec, “looks like it’s not your night. Want another one, on the house?” Alec shook his head. “Can I have a peach Capri Sun instead?” He asked. Someone else took the seat Magnus had vacated next to him at the bar and pushed a hundred dollar bill across the counter to the girl. “Actually, I’ll have the alcohol once you give the child his sippy cup. Make it a Devil’s Margin, please.” Alec turned to look at the owner of that silky, dark voice. A tall man, dressed in black, everything designer and very expensive-looking, with an exceedingly attractive face and the tell-tale red glow in his eyes. A greater demon, Alec thought, freezing in his spot. He didn’t have any weapons with him, he had left them all at the wardrobe, glamoured, after Magnus had convinced him demons would not come crash their date. “Did your date not go your way?” the higher demon asked, smiling in a way Alec would have read as… friendly, If it had been anyone else. “What’s it to you? Since when do demons care what we do in our time off?” “Since I’m the demon of desire and everyone’s desires are my job.” The demon said. The bartender slid the Devil’s Margin in front of the stranger and smiled. The demon took a sip from the drink and smiled. “Excellent. Heavy on the alcohol, easy on the ginger ale. Just how I like it.” He said, producing another hundred dollar bill and handing it to the girl. “That’s all yours, baby girl.” Alec watched the young woman fluster and blush, stammering a thank you and going away. He always found it so miraculous when other men were able to charm their way through life’s little exchanges and situations. Jace would have done it even without the money, he thought, sizing up the man (demon) next to him. “Look. I’m not digging for trouble… for now. I’m just curious. Do you think the warlock you were seeing is hot, Alec Lightwood?” The demon asked, revealing to Alec he had done his homework before he’d popped up. “I will gladly answer all your nosy questions, demon, as soon as you tell me your name. Since you already know mine.” “All in due time. Is it that hard to admit, is he hot or not?” “Yes, he is, damn it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone on a date with him, he’s been working so super hard to get me to go out with him. I never go out.” “Mmm, interesting.” “And again, what’s it to you?” Alec grumpily asked. If he was going to fry, he might as well get some answers first. “Well, my volatile little Nephilim, my name is Asmodeus, prince of hell, demon of desire and Magnus’ dad.” Alec gasped. Rationally, he knew warlocks were half demon, but he had always pictured the demon half involved one of those hideous creatures they slaughtered in dark alleys while on night missions. He had never considered the higher demons would wish to sire children with mortal women as well. And, looking at Asmodeus, it was easy to see where Magnus got his good looks and charm from.

“Are you here to tell me not to date your son?” Alec said. “Or to make sure that my Nephilim nature kicks in and does exactly that, to spite you?”

“No, not at all. I’m here to save everyone some heartache and to speed up some of my goals becoming reality.” Asmodeus said. “Do you want to date my son?” “Honestly? I don’t know. I… I might not get anyone else. And he is a good man, who’s showing me attention where everyone else is not. He would love me.” “He would watch you die after your short, violent little life. And then he’d mourn and move on. He’s immortal, Alec. You’re not.” “Yeah, there’s that. But isn’t every lasting relationship like that? Even in mundane marriages, someone dies first and is survived by their grieving partner.” “Mundanes have the comfort of thinking they get to meet each other soon.” Alec stared at his Capri Sun. “But that’s not all there is to it, is there?” Asmodeus pressed. “There’s something else holding you back.” “Yes…” Alec said, sighing. “Something stupid.” “Like the hmmm… allegedly unrequited love for your parabatai?” “Why are you even asking me, if you know everything?” Alec covered his face with his palm briefly. “This is embarrassing. I can’t… I can’t do this.” He added and made to get off the bar stool to leave. “No it’s not, and you can. Sit back down. I take desires really seriously. And I’m here to tell you it’s alright to be in love with your parabatai. You two do share a soul and I would be more surprised and disappointed if you two weren’t in love.” “But… why are you so intent on my not dating Magnus? Because that is your agenda, I can tell.”

“It’s because of how difficult it is to see things from an eternal perspective. No matter how much Magnus and you pretend it’s not an obstacle, it is. And I am trying to get Magnus to stop seeking for fleeting connection in various mortals and to finally turn his face back to me, his father. I cannot wait to give him my wisdom, my experience… my power. But I can’t do that if he is always running around trying to please this and that mortal.” “And you want me to turn Magnus down so you can show up for him? Why didn’t you do so before? Why didn’t you protect him and treat him well as a child?” “I was misguided and hurt. I wrongfully took out my anger and my pain on a child who didn’t ask to be here. And since then, Magnus has been running from me.” “Look. I don’t have the power to oppose you. But for some reason you seem to want to do it right this time. Listen to his wishes. He will come to you if he feels respected. It’s not that deep. I know one or two things about abusive parents. Once the trust is broken, and usually it’s broken over and over… it can’t be won back with a simple talk and a hug. It takes time to mend wounds that scarred over but never healed.” Asmodeus smiled at Alec and put his hand over Alec’s nearest one. “I knew you’d understand. As far as Nephilim go, you’re one of the wisest, even for your young years.” Alec looked at the demon’s manicured hand on top of his and for a second, his mind flashed him an image of Asmodeus draped over him in a bed with cool sheets, buried to the hilt inside him, holding his literal life in his hands, their fingers interlaced as they gripped the sheets and moved together… He shook his head. Asmodeus wasn’t playing. He really was the demon of desire.

“Don’t you just wish that was the Herondale boy?” Asmodeus laughed knowingly.

“Wayland, but go off.” “Oops. I guess I shouldn’t have said that.” Asmodeus said with a wink. “But anyway. I wanted to talk to you not to dissuade you from dating my son, but to tell you that you’re bullshitting yourself. Sure, Magnus is wonderful and he would love you and everything. But you’re not in love with him. And I thought I’d spare you and Magnus a few years of heartache and suffering alone and in secret because you let things heat up too fast and then it was too late to say anything. You would so do that. Admit it - if not to me, then to yourself.”

“I… you’re right.” Alec said, taking a sip of his juice. “Too bad Jace doesn’t love me back.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “He does. And I know you won’t believe what the old demon said, but just… ask him. Ask him what is in those nightmares that keep him up at night. Oh, and… ask for one kiss. It will tell you all you need to know.” Alec looked away. He had come a long way, he could pass for a great leader on many days, but asking for a kiss? From Jace? That needed working up to. “You have to risk it for the biscuit.” Asmodeus said, shrugging. “Or, in terms you Nephilim folk prefer, no pain, no gain.” Alec winced. He was trying to change that. Everyone outside the Nephilim society laughed at them and called them primitive for abusing their children to turn them into soldiers and for burning their own people for even the slightest mistake, until their numbers were dwindling. It felt like an uphill battle, but he knew it could be done. Unless the Clave really wanted to drive their race to extinction. “Thanks for the insight… I guess?” Alec said and took a sip of his drink. When he looked to his side, Asmodeus had vanished, leaving behind only a veil of very high end Moroccan blend perfume, something with sandalwood, crushed rose petals and ylang-ylang.

Alec shivered. He’d survived meeting Asmodeus. And in theory it wasn’t a big deal, he’d killed greater demons before without thinking much of it, but Asmodeus was different. He was Magnus’ dad. He could have been his father-in-law, which would have made Easter lunches very awkward, for starters.

He paid what he owed to the bartender and she smiled as she cashed him in. “Straighten your crown and go get’em. You’re a cutie, it’ll all work out for you.” She said. Alec sighed. “Thanks. There’s nothing about me that can be straight… but I appreciate the sentiment.” He got his weapons and coat from the wardrobe and went back to the Institute. On the way back, he was stopped by some unsavoury mundanes who wanted to mug him. Alec asked himself what Jace would do, and what would make Magnus cringe the least. He ended up breaking all those men’s arms and legs and walking away while feeling a huge sulk taking him over. To top it all off, it started to rain.

Soaked to his skin, now he really wanted that hot bath with a book. When he went up to Jace’s room, it was empty and Alec decided it would hurt no one if he did run himself that hot bath and read the book from Clary. As he gingerly lowered himself into the tub, the exhaustion and the stress of the past month hit him at full force. He closed his eyes and let the heat and the pine scent of the water seep into his bones and mind, relaxing him. Now he was starting to see why Jace loved to take baths so often. He opened “The Alchemist” and started reading. He found the book easy to read through, since he was used to far longer and bigger volumes. The start didn’t impress him much, but by the time he got through the first twenty pages, he was hooked. The ending moved him to tears and it made him think of his own situation. He was also sitting on a treasure, ignoring it because of preconceived ideas on how treasures had to appear and be revealed. It was how Jace found him, crying in the bath, the foam having dissolved almost completely. Jace ran over to him and knelt next to the tub, hugging Alec at once and kissing his forehead worriedly. “What’s wrong, parabatai? What happened?” Jace asked, running his hands through Alec’s wet hair and smoothing it back. Alec looked at Jace through his tears and he sighed. The surge of love and awe he felt just from seeing Jace again (and it had only been a few hours since he’d last seen him, at breakfast) was enough to tell him that Asmodeus had been a hundred percent right. He was so deeply, desperately and irreversibly in love with Jace, there was no use lying to himself and thinking it was wiser to stay away. Sure, giving in and admitting his love to Jace might bring some heartache, maybe some punishment too if they were found out, but at least they’d have each other. And he would have the one person he had loved from the day they’d met.

Alec took in Jace’s appearance. While he had been caught in the rain, Jace had been lucky and his clothes and hair were dry. He had gone and gotten his haircut refreshed, and it looked so incredibly good on him. Jace also wore a white shirt that subtly outlined his pecs and abs and tight jeans with his designer boots.

“The book was sad.” Alec said, feeling silly for saying the first thing that popped into his mind. It was a childish reason to give; they were Shadowhunters, they witnessed tragedy on an individual and global scale regularly. Jace smiled and ran his fingers through Alec’s hair again, leaning close and kissing his temple. He also looked down at the discarded book. He knew it was the book Clary had given Alec and he also knew the plot. He had read it a while ago while waiting to meet a cute Seelie in a bookstore. “Did your date with Magnus not go so well?” He asked, even though it pained him. Jace knew it wasn’t classy to be this petty, but Magnus having come onto the scene had changed his life for the worse by introducing the idea of competition for Alec’s love and attention… and the prospect of him losing. Until recently, no matter how shitty the rest of his life was, he always knew he had Alec’s full attention, devotion and affection. Jace had been in love with Alec for a while now, and he had woken up one day overwhelmed with love for his shy and reserved parabatai after thinking for a long time that he was the straightest person in the entire Shadow World. Loving Alec was easy, because Jace wore a mask for everyone else and with Alec he didn’t need to. And even though Alec was very withdrawn and private, he reserved the best parts of himself for Jace, who had always needed to be seen and prioritised by someone. Now, with Magnus in the picture, he could see himself losing all of that and being demoted to “one of the others’’ in favour of the boyfriend. He had already begun to resign himself to having lost the best and brightest part of his life. He had made it a part of his outward performance to be seen with many women and girls of all races, mundanes and Downworlders alike, but he could not bring himself to like or even open himself up at least a bit to anyone, in an unspoken (even to himself) hope of one day gathering his guts and telling Alec how he felt. But his father’s words rang in his mind. The way he saw it, “to love is to destroy” only worked if the love was expressed, fulfilled and returned. If it was just things one felt in secret and suffered from, it was fine. Only now it was all lost. Alec was in love - with Magnus. And Jace didn’t blame him. Magnus had the balls to announce his feelings directly. Normally, he would have been this confident too. But he didn’t think he was worthy of Alec’s love. He felt that Alec would be getting a bad deal with him as a boyfriend. He was neither rich, nor powerful or famous. And Alec deserved to be treated like a king, not late night dates at Mickey D’s, eating McRibs with ichor-stained hands.

Lost in his little cinematic sad story inside his head, Jace didn’t notice Alec watching him and smiling. “Actually the date with Magnus was great. I came back here after because it didn’t feel right to go to his place after.” “Why not?” Jace pushed, feeling a masochistic need to hear more about the ways in which Alec was slipping away from him. “You like the guy.” Alec looked at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow. “Jace. You know very well I don’t like anyone. And I only love you.”  He said, his voice becoming tinier as he got to the word “love”.

Jace’s eyes shot up to look at his parabatai. “It’s always been you, Jace.” Alec said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “In another world, if I were any bit more different, I’d be strong enough to let the outside pressure get to me  and move on, but I just don’t know how to be without you and I don’t want to either. I’ve been in love with you, in many ways that grew along the way, since the moment you walked into that training room and roasted my archery skills. I know to others I am weak for being so attached and needy, but… I don’t know how not to be, when it comes to you.”

Jace’s eyes were swimming in tears by the time Alec paused. He was still kneeling near the tub, one hand buried in Alec’s wet curly hair, the other holding one of Alec’s hands. He kissed the back of the hand he was holding, then lightly kissed each finger. “I feel the same. I was so torn, Alec. You deserve the best things ever and I’m not that. I’m broken. I thought you’d be happy with Magnus, but selfishly, I hated the thought of losing you.” It was Alec’s turn to caress stray strands behind a delicate ear. “We’re broken along the same lines. Like shards of a mirror that show the same image when you put them together.” Alec said. “The reason I was crying is because Clary knew exactly what I needed to hear. Like the guy in this book, I don’t need exotic travels and treasures beyond imagining. All I need is right here with me.”

When their lips finally met, it was with no hesitation and no fumbling. Once they had made up their respective minds, there was no holding back for either of them. “I want everything, Jace. And I want it with you.” Alec said in a heated voice, sounding breathless and overcome with excitement. “Then come, let me show you,” Jace said, feeling a lump of emotion form in his throat, making it hard to speak. Seeing Alec’s courage to say how he felt had made him go all in as well. In just a second, his indecision and his fears and worries had vanished like fog under the sun. But even though the emotions were positive and bursting forth from his soul like sunbeams, he still felt tears well up and spill down his cheeks. One word, one sign of reassurance had been enough. They were both getting what they wanted but had not dared to ask for. Alec briefly thought of Asmodeus and his knowing smirk, but then he felt Jace lift him easily from the tub and wrap him in a big towel, not doing too good a job drying him before he carried him, bridal-style, to the adjacent bedroom. He squeaked at being carried, but he still clung to Jace and rested his head on Jace’s shoulder, enjoying the attention from his parabatai. Jace hadn’t considered sleeping with a man, whether mundane or otherwise, but he found that Alec felt as familiar as he did to himself, and everything came naturally to him, especially since he was focusing on making sure Alec had a pleasurable first time. In fact, it was their first time and it could only be amazing, like everything they did as a pair.

He undressed hurriedly and unselfconsciously, feeling himself harden when Alec watched him greedily, his desire increasing with each item that came off.

Alec looked like sin made flesh on Jace’s bed, naked and hard, panting and watching Jace, biting his lower lip and reaching for his parabatai.

“You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jace decreed, giving his cock a loose stroke, his eyes raking over Alec’s bared form before he got onto the bed and scooted next to Alec, flinging a leg over him and straddling him. “And you’re mine. I’m going to make you forget other men exist.” He reached over to Alec with two fingers, running them down the middle of his forehead, over his nose and further down to his lips.

Alec gasped and opened his mouth, his plush lips wrapping themselves around the roving fingers and dragging along the soft skin. Jace felt himself leak a sticky trail onto Alec’s cock beneath him from how enticing Alec looked, sucking his fingers unabashedly, rolling his hips up to rub against Jace and wanting to wring every drop of pleasure from the moment. Jace found he could no longer hold back and he leaned forward, his lips finding Alec’s. They again fused into one, their souls merging and flowing from one into the other and then back, in a loop. “Shit, if kissing is this intense, I won’t survive being inside you.” Jace said, nipping on Alec’s chin, on the spot he had the scar in. “Worth it. Can’t think of a better way to go.” Alec gave back, bringing his arms up so he could indulge in something he’d wanted to do since forever - running his hands greedily all over Jace, fingers carding through his hair, tracing his vertebrae as they descended, straying to his sides, his pecs, then his hips and then his ass. Alec felt ravenous - as though he couldn’t get Jace close enough, soon enough. He arched into Jace’s mouth and wailed at the sensation as his parabatai bit, then sucked a massive bruise into his deflect rune. “Jace, I can’t… I’ll go fucking insane if you’re not inside me soon. We can explore later.” Alec demanded. Jace looked down at their engorged and leaking cocks, rubbing against each other. “Um… normally I should open you up slowly. It’s a really small hole. Can you wait?” “I’ve been waiting since I was fucking fifteen. Get thee in me - preferably today.” “Look, if I use runes, it might still sting.” “I’m a Shadowhunter. Let’s see those runes.” “Alec, are you sure? It’s your first time… it might hurt.” “Do I look like I care? I get to have you for the rest of my life. Every time will be as special as a first time.” Jace smiled, relenting at the passionate words. This was 100% his Alec. Hesitant and overthinking while weighing his choices, all in once he made up his mind. He allowed himself to fantasize about a life of belonging to Alec and to Alec only, and of Alec being his in the same way. He felt his heart fill up to the point of overflowing with love and he knew he wanted nothing else. Even if it was a short and perilous life, even if their destiny as soldiers against the realms of hell cleaved their trajectory through the world before it had reached its end point, it would be a life lived in the completeness of their bond, made stronger by their love. He felt Alec’s burning gaze on him when he got out of bed to get his stele. While he retrieved it from his trousers, he wondered if, once Alec and him became one in every sense of the word, he would be able to activate Alec’s runes too with only his intention. Only one way to find out. Using the combination of runes he knew from Isabelle on her brother felt like the naughtiest and at the same time most rewarding sex thing he’d ever done thus far, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was so hot, watching and feeling his soon-to-be lover’s body become accommodating for him. Even the slight pain, which he could feel in the bond, was amplifying his aroused anticipation, as he watched Alec squirm and arch under the burn of the runes - which soon turned pleasurable, wringing a debauched moan from Alec.

“Please, Jace. I’m ready.” Alec said, sucking his reddened and glistening lower lip into his mouth briefly, looking up at Jace with feverish eyes.

Jace couldn’t have resisted if he tried. He knelt between Alec’s eagerly parting legs, taking the time to check if the runes had taken and if his parabatai was relaxed enough. He stroked two fingers over Alec’s opening and found it warm and pleasantly slick, which reassured him enough to delve inside. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of Alec’s tight walls squeezing down on his fingers, picturing what that would feel like around his cock. With his other hand, he gave his cock a few strokes, spreading the droplets of precome drooling from the tip and bringing it up against Alec’s entrance, pressing in while removing his fingers. Alec closed his eyes and arched off the sheets as the head of Jace’s cock stretched him further than he had thought possible. Jace took one of his hands and squeezed it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Breathe - deep and slow. It’ll help.” He whispered, before leaning down to kiss Alec while still pushing in. He could feel the same burn his parabatai felt in his body and he wondered at the force of Alec’s need for him. There would be so many other times when they could live out all their desires and fantasies, but for now it was about Alec and what he wanted. “Fuck, Alec. You are so tight it’s unreal.” Jace said when he bottomed out. He was now buried to the hilt inside his parabatai and the bond flared between them, its flame switching from pale blue to bright gold. Both boys got hit by the intensity of the transmutation. Their bond was now something different, stronger and new in a way they couldn’t have anticipated. They had both been warned by the Silent Brothers at their ceremony not to fall and commit Eros, lest they draw the angels’ wrath and the parabatai curse onto them. But, as time passed and they grew up, they had both learned the curse was a scaretale used to enforce the Clave’s disapproval of same sex relationships and to secure Clave control over parabatai pairs and their abilities as warriors. He Clave wanted them good, but not too good.

“Do you feel… that… too?” Jace asked in awe.

“Yes, I do. I feel you, as a part of me.” Alec said breathlessly. “Please, move. I want it all.” Jace propped himself up on his hands on Alec’s chest and started to move, picking up pace quickly. “Angels, Alec.You feel divine.” Jace whispered. His entire world had narrowed down to Alec beneath him. But even that wasn’t enough and he sat back on his heels, pulling Alec up in his lap until they were wrapped around each other, their limbs woven together like the petals of a lotus. Jace had never really enjoyed a connection with someone before here and now, with Alec. Sex had always been yet another performance to persuade the world that the great Jace Wayland was as perfect and as unattainable as they wanted him to be, the fantasy superhero all of Idris wanted to believe in and parade as an example. If he could have had his choice, he would have not shared his body with anyone unless he felt drawn to do so. But as it were, everyone else had always seen him as a shiny trinket to collect, a fetish to experiment with, a fantasy to conquer. All but Alec. “Jace! I’m c-close.” Alec pressed out while the force of Jace’s upward thrusts into him bounced him on Jace’s lap. “Come with me!”

Jace nodded with a growl and changed their position again, having them lie down face to face, up close and still entwined as they’d been just moments before, with Alec’s legs encircling his hips. It wasn’t a comfortable position they could hold for long, but it brought them close together and Jace loved that he could rest a hand on Alec’s neck and pull him close for a possessive kiss. A silent understanding passed between them, the same intent reflected in both sets of eyes. They came at the same time, each letting go easily while knowing the other would be right there too. After that night, Alec discovered that Jace could practically go on forever, but, considerate as he was, he did stop when Alec became physically unable to keep up. And Jace was also an attentive lover, apparently, either as a rule or just for him, Alec didn’t care, since he currently couldn’t feel his body beyond the burn in his ass and the deep fatigue, neighbouring numbness, that had taken over his limbs. But Jace fed him pineapple gummibears from his secret stash (if that wasn’t love, nothing was, Alec thought, knowing how territorial Jace was of those gummibears). Jace discovered that he could, in fact, activate Alec’s runes with his intention, something which turned Alec on like mad and which made their night’s activities stretch until late in the morning. Once they finally dragged themselves under the shower, Jace remembered his gift from Clary. “I need to take you on a proper date, to make this official. Museum of Modern Art sound good to you? The Dicks in Design exhibit is in town.” “If I want to see a big dick for free, all I need to do is look your way. Let’s just go and stare at the art.” Jace opened his mouth to clap back, but he couldn’t think of anything. Couldn’t object against facts, although what kept him from feeling smug was the ambiguous phrasing. Had Alec meant he had a big dick? Or that he was a big dick?

*** The evening had just begun and Pandemonium was buzzing with excitement. This date marked the return of Magnus Bane to the club scene. The moment he had seen Alec again after their one date, Magnus had known Alec would never be his. And then he had seen Jace and the massive change in him, in the way the two parabatai looked at each other, in the way the energy in the room changed and thrummed around them. He could not begrudge the two Shadowhunters the refuge they had found in each other. Being parabatai in their time was difficult and it was a small blessing they could be everything for each other like that. He couldn’t say he was mourning that which had never been. He had a new girlfriend now and his father was making an effort to be a slightly more tolerable demon and an actual parent to his only son. Magnus had a family now and it made him feel like he finally belonged. Now he was observing Alec and Jace on the dance floor below. Alec had never struck him as a big lover of fun, partying and much less dancing. But what he was currently doing was hardly a dance. He and Jace were just grinding against each other to the beat of the music, lost in each other like they were the only people in the club. They were both dressed in white and the hostesses at the club entrance had dabbed glitter on them, like they did with all the guests that night, only Jace and Alec looked  downright heavenly, sparkling in the bluish-white light.

Then, Magnus’ eye was drawn to the VIP booth, where his father stood at the window, watching the couple below with the tiniest smile fluttering on his lips. Magnus shuddered, remembering Asmodeus was the demon of desire and his powers grew off of people giving into their secret and forbidden passions. He didn’t put it past his father to have stuck his finger in the parabatai pie. His concerns only intensified when Alec suddenly looked up, saw Asmodeus, waved and smiled. (the end)

[rhosyn-du]

Title: A Wonderful Institution Artist: @bidnezz​ Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings Word Count: ~53k Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, discrimination against Downworlders, reference to rape, Clave-typical homophobia, implied character death, minor character death Summary: Magnus doesn’t have time for this bullshit. Warlocks are disappearing in New York City—five people in less than three months—and Magnus is determined to find them and protect the rest of his people from whatever took them. He doesn’t have time for politics, and he certainly doesn’t have time for whatever nonsense the Clave is proposing about marrying a Shadowhunter to a Downworlder as part of the new Accords. He doesn’t really have time for a pretty Shadowhunter who’s surprisingly kind to warlock children, either, but, well, he’s always been good at multitasking.

Alec always knew he couldn’t have what he wanted, but he’s spent the nearly four years since the newly-appointed Consul recalled his parents to Idris without explanation making the best of what he can have. When life suddenly offers up almost everything Alec actually wants on a silver platter, he can’t quite bring himself to trust it, especially when it comes with a million caveats and a side of impending disaster. But he knows how to handle disasters, even if the return of the Circle on top of Clave secrets that could destroy the Accords is way beyond the disasters he’s used to fielding. Hope, on the other hand? He doesn’t know what to do with that.

This fic was created for the @malecdiscordserver​​ Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter Seven

It took longer than Magnus would have liked to convince Ragnor to talk to the Shadowhunters. In the end, he had to point out that Ragnor would get to meet Alec (and then presumably tease Magnus mercilessly for the fact that he was still engaged) before he agreed. Still, the several trips Magnus had taken to London to cajole his friend were a great distraction from the wedding planning he and Alec had been trying to do via text, since they were both too busy with other things to meet in person.

One of those other things, in Magnus’s case, being tracking the missing warlocks. With Clary’s vision about the Circle having Dorothea, Magnus had begun to wonder if perhaps the Circle were responsible for the other warlock disappearances, as well. It was hard to know if the MO for Dot’s disappearance were the same, since it was unclear where she’d been taken, exactly, and the Circle had an obvious and clear reason for taking her when they didn’t for the other missing warlocks.

Just like with the other missing warlocks, Magnus could no longer feel Dot’s magic. Which meant that either his friend was dead, or the Circle had found some way of blocking her magic. It was a possibility Magnus had considered with the other missing warlocks, since no bodies had been found, but given that the Circle was involved, it was entirely possible that there were no bodies because those who committed the murders were keeping body parts as trophies. It wouldn’t have been the first time Magnus had seen it happen.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Ragnor complained as they stepped out of a portal in front of the New York Institute. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last set foot in a Shadowhunter Institute? Decades at least. Maybe a century. And now I’m mixed up in Shadowhunter business again, and it’s all because I let you talk me into it.”

“You’re mixed up in Shadowhunter business again because you agreed to brew a potion for Jocelyn Fairchild,” Magnus pointed out. “That was going to come back to bite you in the ass someday with or without my help.”

“I suppose,” Ragnor said with a philosophical shrug. “But she did offer to pay me a great deal of money, and the specifics she wanted for the potion were quite interesting, not something just any warlock could pull off.”

“Ah, so she appealed to your vanity,” Magnus said. “No wonder you couldn’t turn down the job.”

“You’re one to talk about vanity,” Ragnor said. “Do you remember that time in Sicily when—”

“Yes,” Magnus cut him off. “Far more clearly than I want to. Thank you for the reminder. I do not need a play-by-play.”

The one downside to having friends who had known you as long as Ragnor had was that they tended to remember your most embarrassing moments, not to mention bring them up with alarming frequency.

Alexander and Isabelle met the two of them in the entry of the Institute. Magnus hadn’t seen Alec in person since they’d summoned the memory demon, and he was troubled to see that Alec looked even more tired now than he had after the summoning. Magnus wondered if he’d managed to get a single full night of sleep since then.

“Alexander, Isabelle,” Magnus said, “I’d like you to meet my dear friend Ragnor Fell.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Alec said, holding out a hand.

Ragnor shook it, saying, “Indeed. Magnus has told me a great deal about you.”

“You make that sound so ominous,” Izzy said, offering her own hand. “Maybe you and I can swap stories sometime. I can tell you embarrassing things about my brother and you can tell me embarrassing things about Magnus, and we can use them for leverage later.”

Ragnor beamed. “That is quite an offer. You and I should talk.” He leaned toward Magnus and said in a stage whisper, “I think I might get along with this one.”

“Thank you for coming,” Alec said, interrupting Ragnor and Izzy’s plotting. “Clary’s with Jace in the ops center. Still no leads on the Cup or on ways to track Jocelyn, but you said you might have something?”

“I believe so,” Ragnor said, following Alec and Izzy toward the ops center. “The potion I made for Jocelyn is intended to put someone in magically-induced stasis until the spell is removed. I suggested I also make a potion to counteract the one she requested, so she could reverse the effects herself if necessary, but she told me that it was safer not to have something like that on hand and that she or Dorothea would contact me if they ever needed to reverse the effects of the potion.”

“So, you know how to wake my mom up?” asked Clary, who had caught the end of Ragnor’s explanation.

“If Jocelyn is under the effects of the potion I created for her, then yes,” Ragnor said. “Although I never made the counter-potion, as per Jocelyn’s request, I did figure out how it could be done so that I would be able to create it if she ever had the need.”

“That’s great,” Jace said, “but we still need to find Jocelyn and rescue her before we can wake her up.”

“We might be able to help with that, too,” Magnus said.

“Every potion has a magical signature,” Ragnor explained. “A combination of the ingredients used in the potion and the magic provided by the warlock who created it. Most of the time, this isn’t terribly useful, since few potions are truly unique and those of us with enough skill in potion making to actually track a potion's signature tend to brew a great many of them.”

“But the potion Ragnor made for Jocelyn is unique,” Magnus chimed in. “Not only has he never made it before or since, but he developed the formula himself.”

“Which means,” Ragnor said, “that I should be able to track any person who has drunk the potion.”

“We already tried tracking,” Jace said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work. Wherever the Circle is holding Jocelyn, she’s not trackable.”

“Ah, but this isn’t tracking in the technical sense,” Ragnor said. “When you track, you follow the energy signature of the person you’re tracking. In this case, it’s more of finding the resonance of my own energy signature within another person. You can’t block someone from finding the resonance of their own magic the same way you can block someone from tracking another person’s energy.”

Jace stared at him. “I literally have no idea what you just said.”

“But you’re saying you can find my mother,” Clary said. “Right?”

“With time and some effort, yes,” Ragnor said, “as long as she remains under the potion’s influence.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Clary demanded. “In my vision, they were trying to wake Mom. If they succeed, then we’ll lose our best chance of finding her.”

“What we’re waiting for, Biscuit, is to have an actual plan,” Magnus explained gently. “Finding Jocelyn in this way will take a lot of energy, and as a result, it isn’t something that can be repeated quickly. If the Circle isn't keeping Jocelyn in one place—and they’d be stupid to with as many people as are trying to find the Cup—then we don’t want to try to pinpoint Jocelyn’s location until we have a plan for rescuing her.”

“If rescuing her is even our top priority,” Alec said. “We need to find the Mortal Cup before the Circle does. Jocelyn is one way to do that and keeping the Circle from torturing the information out of her is important, but it would be even better if we could find the Cup ourselves.”

“How can you say that?” Clary demanded, turning on Alec. “We can’t just leave my mother with those people. Who knows what they’ll do to her? And if she knows the location of your Cup, then rescuing her is our best chance of finding it.”

“I don’t think Alexander is suggesting we leave Jocelyn in the Circle’s hands,” Magnus said. “Just that a rescue is dangerous, and if we fail, we might only make things worse, so we should pursue other avenues of finding the Cup at the same time we work on finding a way to rescue your mother.”

“Exactly,” Alec said.

“Biscuit,” Magnus continued, “can you tell me more about this vision you had of your mother? If we can recreate the circumstances, it might give us the information we need to plan a rescue.”

“There wasn’t much,” Clary said. “Just Mom, asleep and surrounded by a sort of greenish glow. Dot was there, but she didn’t look right. Something about her face was off, but it’s all fuzzy, like a dream. And then there was the man. He was standing over my mom, talking to her, but I can’t remember what he was saying. Or maybe I couldn't hear? And then, he turned to look straight at me. I think he knew I was watching.” She shrugged helplessly. “And then I woke up.”

“What can you tell us about the man?” Ragnor asked. “He could be important.”

Magnus looked at him. “You think he could be Valentine?” It was something he’d wondered since Clary had first mentioned a man in her vision, given Jocelyn’s fear that her husband was still alive.

“I think it’s a distinct possibility,” Ragnor said. “Given what we know about Jocelyn’s disappearance and Clarissa’s parentage.”

“I don’t remember much,” Clary admitted. “I didn’t even see his face until right at the end, just the back of his head. He’s taller than Dot, I remember that.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Alec interjected.

Magnus gave him a sharp look. “Biscuit, do you have any idea what triggered the vision?”

Clary chewed her lip, looking nervous.

“It’s all right,” Jace told her. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

“I think it might have to do with my necklace,” Clary said finally. “When Mom gave it to me, she told me that if I needed her, I should hold it and think of her, and when I woke up from the dream, I’m pretty sure I was holding it.”

“You were,” Izzy told her. “It caught my attention, which is why I didn’t manage to move out of the way before you smacked into me.”

“Right,” Clary said, with a nervous smile. “Did I ever apologize for that?”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Izzy said, waving her off. “You can’t help what you do when you’re asleep, and anyway, I should have been paying better attention.”

“Biscuit, may I see your necklace?” Magnus asked.

Clary nodded, pulling the cord over her head and handing it to him.

Magnus could feel the pulse of the deep purple crystal in his hand, a very familiar sort of magic.

“This is a portal shard,” he announced. “These are rare, and this one doesn’t feel...right, exactly. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think it was from another world, but I can’t imagine where Jocelyn would have gotten her hands on such a thing.”

“Another world?” Clary asked, startled.

“There are many worlds, Biscuit,” Magnus answered distractedly, still wrapped up in examining the portal shard. “Some similar to ours, some quite different. It’s possible for some to travel between them.”

“Travel between the worlds is usually a seelie thing,” Izzy explained. “I don’t know much about it—they’re very secretive—but I’ve overheard some things.”

“It’s possible,” Magnus said slowly, “that if Jocelyn holds another shard of the same portal, the two can act as a sort of viewing portal between Clary and Jocelyn.”

“So I really did see my mother,” Clary said.

“Hold on,” Jace said. “If there are two of these things, and it goes both ways, does that mean that Valentine could be using the other shard to spy on Clary?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Magnus said. “But this shard is tied to Clary. I can’t use it on my own, for example. I expect the other shard is similarly tied to Jocelyn.”

“But a powerful enough warlock might be able to change that,” Ragnor said, “and we know that Valentine has Dorothea.”

Magnus shook his head. “Dot couldn’t do it. There are very few warlocks who could, alone. It would require both immense power and a comprehensive working knowledge of portals.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re the only one who could do it,” Ragnor said, grinning. “What was that you were saying earlier about vanity?”

“I did not ask for commentary,” Magnus said, scowling at his friend. He turned back to the Shadowhunters. “I think it might be best if I held onto this for the time being. I can keep it from being used to spy on us, and Clary and I can work together to do some reconnaissance of Jocelyn’s whereabouts using the portal shard.”

“What if Mom wakes up and needs to get a hold of me?” Clary asked. “Shouldn’t I have the portal shard then?”

“If Jocelyn wakes up while she’s still in the Circle’s custody, we don’t want her contacting you,” Alec said bluntly. “If that happens, the Circle is going to be using everything in their power to get Jocelyn to reveal the location of the Cup, and that includes you. It’s too risky.”

He turned to Magnus. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to keep it?”

Magnus gave him a soft smile. “I appreciate the concern, Alexander, but I won’t be in any danger. I intend to keep this highly warded when we aren’t using it.”

“As long as you’re sure it’s safe,” Alec said. “We could keep it here at the Institute, in a locked vault where there wouldn’t be anything for the Circle to spy on even if they did figure out a way to use it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s entirely unnecessary. And I’d like to take a closer look at the portal shard before Clary starts actively working with it, anyway. The better we know how it works, the better our chances of using it to find the information we need.”

“All right,” Alec agreed. “In the meantime, we’ll keep looking for the Mortal Cup.” He looked at Clary. “If you remember anything at all—”

“I’ll tell you immediately,” Clary finished in a manner that made it clear they’d had this exchange many times already.

“While Magnus is working with the shard, I’ll start gathering the things I need to track Jocelyn’s potion,” Ragnor said. “As well as the ingredients for the counter-potion, as I assume we’ll want to wake her once we’ve rescued her.”

“We can do that together,” Magnus said quickly, ignoring Ragnor’s look of surprise. “If we were able to figure out you were the one who made the potion for Jocelyn, then Valentine could, as well, especially if Dorothea knew.” He ignored the stab of pain at the thought of Dot being tortured at the hands of the Circle, and continued, “You could be a target.”

“I’ve managed to keep myself alive this long, old friend,” Ragnor said dismissively. “I don’t think you need to worry about me.”

Need to or not, Magnus did. With warlocks missing and the Circle taking Dot, it was hard not to be protective of his friends.

“Have you found out anything else about the other missing warlocks?” Izzy asked, following his train of thought.

Magnus shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve shared what little I found with Alexander, and he’s returned the favor, but even between the two of us, there’s just been very little to find.”

“I want to take another look at the Clave files on the missing warlocks,” Alec said. “This time with Dot included. If the other warlocks were taken by the Circle, maybe we’ll find a common thread by including her that we missed before.”

“That’s a good thought,” Magnus said. “I’m hoping that perhaps if Clary can use the portal shard to see Jocelyn’s surroundings, she might be able to find out if the Circle is keeping any of the other missing warlocks there. I know it’s a long shot, but she saw Dot before, so there’s a chance the Circle is keeping warlocks close by, whatever they might be using them for.”

“And if the Circle is keeping the other missing warlocks in the same location they’re keeping Jocelyn and Dot,” Ragnor said, “we might be able to include them in our rescue plan. Depending on how Valentine has them restrained.”

Magnus nodded. “That was my thought, too. If we’re very lucky, we might be able to rescue more than just Jocelyn and Dot.”

“All right,” Alec said, “we’ve all got our assignments. Izzy, I’ll meet you in my office in a few minutes to go over those warlock files. Jace, can you take Clary through some more training with a blade? Her defense is still shaky, and if we’re mounting a rescue, it needs to be solid.”

“You got it,” Jace said, holding out a hand for Clary. She took it and followed him out of the ops center.

“Magnus,” Alec said, softer now. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He glanced at Ragnor. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Fell.”

“Not at all, Mr. Lightwood,” Ragnor said, eyes dancing with amusement at the formality. “I actually haven’t had much chance to visit the New York Institute, and I was hoping to get a better look at some of the architecture. I can meet you outside when you’re done,” he told Magnus. 

“I won’t be long,” Magnus promised. He managed to refrain from telling Ragnor to be careful, but just barely. Obviously, the man wasn’t going to be abducted right outside an Institute full of Shadowhunters, well within range of their security cameras. Just from where he was standing, Magnus could see half the perimeter of the Institute on the screens that lined the room.

Magnus let Alec pull him into an empty corridor just off the ops room. It wasn’t entirely private, but it wasn’t exactly public either.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” Alec told him. “You look tired.”

Magnus chuckled. “Exactly what every man wants to hear from his intended. No,” he held up a hand as Alec opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, “I’m joking, Alexander. I am tired. Between the Circle and trying to track down missing warlocks, not to mention wedding planning, I haven’t had much time to myself lately.”

Alec watched him cautiously. “Well, I apologize for my part in that, for what it’s worth. If there’s anything I can do—”

“If you think you look less tired than I feel, you clearly haven’t stopped to look in a mirror lately,” Magnus told him.

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to comment on my looks, but not for me to comment on yours?” Alec teased.

“You may feel free to comment on my looks as often as you like, providing you limit yourself to compliments.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec said drily. “At least you won’t have to worry about the wedding in a few days,” he added hesitantly.

“I suppose I won’t,” Magnus agreed with forced lightness. “I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered your position on the matter?”

“I’ve reconsidered it a hundred times,” Alec admitted, sagging against the nearest wall, “but I keep coming to the same decision.” He caught Magnus’s eyes, held them in that way only he could. “But I don’t want to force you into anything. If you don’t want to marry me, then just say so.”

Magnus sighed. “You make it sound so easy. Like that wouldn’t cause a million other problems.” He smiled then, despite himself. “I suppose that means we’re getting married in two days.”

Alec relaxed then, for the first time since Magnus had arrived at the Institute. “I suppose we are. At least we’ll have each other to lean on if arguments during the rehearsal tomorrow get too heated.”

“Don’t remind me,” Magnus said. “I genuinely can’t think of anything worse than the prospect of spending an afternoon with a bunch of Clave and Downworld leaders arguing over my wedding.”

“Tell me about it,” Alec agreed. “But, really, you’re all right?” he asked, returning to the original topic of conversation.

“I’m fine, Alexander,” Magnus assured him, and it was almost true. Just knowing that Alec worried about him helped ease some of his stress. “I promise I’ll get some rest after the wedding. And after we find the Mortal Cup and rescue Dorothea and Jocelyn Fairchild,” he added. “And find the other missing warlocks and defeat the Circle.”

“So, you’re not planning to sleep this year, is what you’re saying,” Alec said with a chuckle.

“It feels like that,” Magnus agreed.

Magnus found Ragnor examining the series of flying buttresses on the east side of the Institute.

“Is there something special about these particular buttresses?” Magnus asked. “Or is this just your weird obsession with the things again.”

“They’re slightly uneven on this side,” Ragnor said. “They shouldn’t be, especially since this is a new world building and so can’t be more than a couple centuries old. Sloppy, really.”

“I’m sure the Clave would be happy to receive your critique on their building,” Magnus said drily.

“Just because you’re feeling tetchy doesn’t mean you need to belittle my hobbies,” Ragnor told him. “You’ve been brooding all day. Tell me what’s wrong. Is this about Dorothea?”

“That’s part of it,” Magnus admitted. “And just, everything.” He looked up, trying to find the unevenness in the flying buttresses, but couldn’t. He clearly didn’t have the kind of eye for architecture Ragnor did.

“I’m getting married,” Magnus said finally.

“Oh, are you?” Ragnor asked in mock surprise. “I hadn’t heard.”

“No, I mean I’m actually getting married,” Magnus said. “To Alexander. In two days.”

“There’s still time to get out of it,” Ragnor told him. “I know you. You’ve gotten yourself out of more dire situations with far less time to spare.”

“But I’m not going to,” Magnus said. “Not this time.”

“Ah,” Ragnor said, and really, that summed it up quite nicely didn’t it?

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Magnus admitted. “With any of this. I’m used to being at my best in the middle of a disaster, and here I find myself in the middle of multiple disasters piled on top of each other, and I feel completely off my game.”

Ragnor made a thoughtful noise, then said, “Well I can think of one solution to that.”

“What’s that?” Magnus asked warily.

“Obviously, what you need is a party,” Ragnor said, as though it were a silly thing for Magnus to even ask. “They always cheer you up.”

Magnus frowned. “I’m not sure this is the best time for—”

“No,” Ragnor interrupted. “No arguments. I’m throwing you a bachelor party, and that’s the end of it.”

“A bachelor party? Ragnor, I’m getting married in two days."”

“Then I’ll have to plan quickly,” Ragnor said. “Since I don’t have time to find another venue, we’ll have to use Pandemonium. And I can get Cat to help me send out invitations. She’s so much better at remembering who might currently hate you than I am.”

“I’m really not sure a bachelor party is the best idea,” Magnus said, unconvinced.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not planning it then,” Ragnor told him. “Now, come on. I’ve got too much to do to waste time staring at buttresses all day.”

“That,” Alec said, dropping into the softest chair in his office, “was an actual nightmare.” 

“I don’t know,” Magnus said leaning against the closest bookshelf, “at least we managed to keep that seelie knight from coming to blows with your mother over the symbology of flower arrangements.” 

Alec looked up at him. He suspected Magnus chose leaning over sitting because the leather pants he was wearing were too tight for sitting to be comfortable. Not that Alec had spent the entirety of their wedding rehearsal trying not to stare or anything.

“Considering how I feel about my mother right now, I’m not sure that goes into the plus column,” Alec said. 

“I’m pretty sure having a fight break out at your wedding rehearsal is some sort of terrible omen,” Magnus told him. “It seems like it should be an omen.” 

“If we really want to talk about luck,” Alec said, “I think the biggest win here is that I didn’t hit anyone.” 

Magnus laughed, head tilted back in a way that emphasized the open neckline of his shirt and the several necklaces that drew attention to his well-defined chest. Now that they weren’t surrounded by dignitaries and his entire family, Alec decided it was okay for him to stare just a little. 

“You can see why I had my reservations about a marriage as a means of solidifying the Accords now, though,” Magnus said. “What with the fact that we had to prevent at least three murders just at the rehearsal.” 

“That I can understand,” Alec said. “Obviously, not all the dignitaries are going to get along. That’s why the Clave and the Downworld took time to select their representatives so carefully, to avoid that kind of thing between the two people actually getting married. I spent hours talking to Consul Penhallow and the rest of the Council before they chose me. I’m sure you must have gone through a similar vetting process.” He allowed himself a small smile. “And they came up with the two of us, which tells me the selection process was pretty good. I never imagined I’d get matched with someone I get along with as well as I do with you.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” Magnus said, staring at something on the bookshelf, although what he could find interesting in a shelf full of books on the history of the Clave’s legal system, Alec couldn’t imagine.

“I have to admit, when I first heard about this idea, I certainly never imagined that I would be marrying someone like you.” 

“What did you imagine?” Alec couldn’t help asking. He’d wondered before, of course, but he’d never been brave enough to ask. 

“An unmitigated disaster involving people who were not me,” Magnus said with an exhausted smile. “I guess that just goes to show that my imagination can’t be trusted to predict the future.” 

“You’re not alone in that,” Alec agreed. Which was a shame, because his imagination was giving him some very lovely ideas about Magnus’s leather-clad thighs just at the moment.

It took Alec a few seconds to realize that Magnus had said something, and he’d missed it entirely. “Sorry, what? My mind was wandering.” 

“I can’t blame you after the afternoon we’ve both just had,” Magnus said, but there was a certain sharpness in his smile that made Alec wonder if Magnus suspected exactly where his mind had wandered. 

“I was just asking what you had imagined,” Magnus said. “You told me a bit about why you volunteered to be a part of this marriage and you did mention that I wasn’t what you expected, but I’m curious about how exactly I defy your expectations.” 

“I imagined a stranger,” Alec told him, deciding honesty was the best way to go. If this marriage was going to work, if there were any possibility that there could be more between the two of them than politics and the beginnings of friendship they already had, then he had to be as honest as possible. “And someone who believed that this union could be a genuine bridge of peace between the Clave and the Downworld. I imagined someone who had as little chance of marrying for love as I did. Someone who wouldn’t care if I could never love her.” 

“That’s...quite sad, actually,” Magnus said. “I can understand giving up on love. Obviously, since I did for so long. But to assume you were always destined for a loveless marriage is just... I don’t know.” He smiled wanly. “But perhaps that’s why I’ve never been married, despite living as long as I have.” 

“What, never?” Alec asked, surprised. 

Magnus shook his head. “Don’t sound so shocked. I know what the Clave thinks of me, but I’m not the sort of man who just gets married on a whim.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Alec said. “It’s just, I haven’t known you long, but I’ve seen you with your friends and with orphan children you barely know and... You have so much love to give, Magnus. I’m just surprised that you’ve never found someone to share your life with.” 

“Wait until you know me a little longer, Alexander,” Magnus said, and there was no mistaking the hint of bitterness and hurt under his smile. Alec wanted to find the people who put it there and punch every single one of them in the face. “I’m sure the reason why will become clear to you.”

Alec shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“But weren't we just discussing how none of this has gone the way you imagined?” Magnus countered.

“Yeah, but that's different,” Alec said. “You aren't at all what I imagined because you're more than I could have hoped for in every way.” He felt ridiculous even saying it out loud. Magnus had to know that already.

“Here I was thinking the same thing about you,” Magnus said. This smile, though small, was entirely genuine, and Alec didn't know what to do with it.

“Things will be different after tomorrow,” Magnus said.

“Some will,” Alec agreed. “But we'll still have all of the same problems to face that we do today. Well, minus the wedding planning, but I'm sure there will be disputes between Shadowhunters and Downworlders that will replace them.”

“Do you really think people will come to us with disputes?” Magnus asked in surprise.

“You don't?” Alec said. “I mean, they're supposed to already, with you being High Warlock and me as Head of the Institute. This is the kind of thing that should be falling on our plates already.”

“But it doesn't, for the most part,” Magnus pointed out. “And there's a reason for that. Downworlders don't trust Shadowhunters, and vice versa. Our marriage isn't going to change that.”

“Not immediately, no,” Alec agreed, “but we can work toward building that trust. Now that I'm officially Head of the Institute, I can even be more open about it. I have so many ideas— But those are problems for after the wedding.”

“I look forward to hearing them,” Magnus said. “But you're right. Let's just focus on getting through the wedding for now.”

Alec rose to set the stack of papers he'd be holding from the rehearsal on the desk. “This is all so surreal,” he said. “It's hard to believe that a day from now, we’ll be married.”

“Not just for us, either,” Magnus said. “I'm pretty sure half the Downworlders planning to attend are doing so just because they'd never believe I married a Shadowhunter unless they saw it with their own eyes.”

Alec grinned at him, leaning back against the desk. “I think it's probably the same for a lot of the Clave. And I think a few are coming just so they can be properly offended.”

“Now that gives me something to really look forward to,” Magnus said. “Offending uptight Shadowhunters is practically a hobby. Do you think they’re more offended that you're marrying a man or a warlock? I want to make sure I cause the maximum amount of offense with my existence.”

“I'm sure there are plenty of people who will be offended by both,” Alec assured him. He shook his head. “I can't believe the first time I ever kiss another man, it's going to be in front of half the Clave.”

Magnus went very still in that way that Alec was coming to realize meant he was genuinely surprised.

“But,” Magnus said slowly, “you've kissed women before.” It wasn't a question, although it really should have been.

“I've never had much interest in kissing women,” Alec told him. It was the closest he'd ever gotten to saying the words out loud, even if Izzy had guessed years ago.

“Alexander,” Magnus’s face was serious as he stepped away from the bookcase and into Alec's personal space, “we don't have to do this. There's still time to call off the wedding. I'm willing to take the blame. I can make up an excuse the Spiral Council will believe, and I'm sure the Clave would be more than happy to blame me. You don't have to do this.”

Alec felt like his insides were folding in on themselves. He'd known Magnus had reservations about their marriage. Magnus had been open about it from the beginning. But he'd never thought this was what would make Magnus decide to back out.

“My inexperience bothers you that much?” Alec managed to force out through the tightness that threatened to close his throat entirely. He realized in that moment just how invested he’d let himself become. In this marriage. In Magnus. Because right now he didn't care what any of this meant for the Accords or the future of the Shadow World. He only cared that Magnus didn't want him.

“It bothers me that you're willing to give up so much for the sake of the Clave,” Magnus said. “Alexander, look at me.”

When Alec didn't move, Magnus cupped Alec's jaw in his palm and tilted his face up to meet his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Alec said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, “that I'm not what you expected when you agreed to this marriage. I should've told you sooner, but I didn't think—”

“You are exactly what I expected,” Magnus told him fiercely, “and everything I wanted when I volunteered.” And Alec didn't know how that could possibly be true, but there was no mistaking the absolute sincerity in Magnus's eyes.

“But you deserve better than to give away your first kiss as part of some political spectacle,” Magnus continued. “You’re so ready to give yourself away, for the Clave, for your ideals, for your family. But, Alexander, you deserve to keep some things for yourself.”

It was so close to what Izzy had said to him, but now, with Magnus's hand on his cheek and standing at close in those sinful leather pants, Alec could finally admit what he wanted for himself.

“Okay,” Alec breathed.

“Okay?”

Alec nodded, then leaned forward. He moved slowly, giving Magnus plenty of time to move away if he wanted to, and he saw the instant Magnus realized his intention, Magnus's eyes fluttering closed and lips parting.

Alec let his own eyes fall shut, one hand coming to rest on Magnus's waist as their lips brushed softly. It should have been awkward. Alec was acting entirely on instinct, and he was pretty sure kissing required actual skill, but Magnus's mouth moved against his own in perfect rhythm, like they'd done this a thousand times.

After a few seconds, Alec allowed himself to get bolder, deepening the kiss and flicking his tongue out to trace Magnus's lower lip. Magnus made a noise of approval, and Alec pulled him closer, reveling in the hard planes of Magnus's body against his, the heat of Magnus's skin through the silk beneath his thumb, the curve of Magnus's leather-clad hip beneath his fingers.

It wasn't until Alec realized he'd backed Magnus up against his desk and was about ten seconds from begging to find out if it was possible to remove those leather pants with his teeth that he broke the kiss. They stared at each other for a long moment, both breathing heavily, Alec’s hand curled into the silk of Magnus's shirt, Magnus's fingers tangled in Alec's hair.

“If you kiss me like that tomorrow,” Magnus said breathlessly, “I think we can offend a number of people.”

Alec shook his head. “That’s not for other people.”

Magnus grinned, disentangling his fingers from Alec’s hair and trailing them down his shoulder. “Well, I’m sure we can find another way to properly offend them.”

“I have faith in us,” Alec said with mock solemnity, causing Magnus to chuckle.

“As much as I hate to go,” Magnus said, moving back a step, “Ragnor will kill me if I miss my own bachelor party, and I’m already running late due to the necessity of not killing anyone during the rehearsal. Will you walk me out?”

Alec nodded. “A bachelor party?” he asked as they moved toward the front of the Institute. He supposed that would explain the leather pants. “Aren’t those more of a mundane thing?”

“Parties,” Magnus told him, “are a Downworlder thing. Surely you must have read that in all of those Clave files.”

“Sure,” Alec said, “but I’ve learned those aren’t always trustworthy when it comes to Downworlders. I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he added with mock sincerity, “but the Clave has a few prejudices when it comes to Downworlders.”

“That’s certainly news to me,” Magnus said.

Although he didn’t need to, Alec followed Magnus outside. He didn’t feel quite right saying goodbye with guards standing around listening.

“Have fun at your party,” he said, not quite sure what else to say, or where they even stood after that kiss.

“Oh, I intend to,” Magnus told him. Then he paused, giving Alec a considering look. “Would you like to join me?”

“At your bachelor party? Aren’t those traditionally supposed to be spent away from the person you’re marrying?”

Magnus smiled at him fondly. “I don’t think anything about our marriage could really be called traditional, do you?”

“I guess not.”

Magnus held out a hand. “What do you say?”

Alec stared at the offered hand a long moment. He should stay and make sure everything was ready for the wedding tomorrow, finish going over those patrol reports he hadn’t gotten to before the rehearsal, maybe even do some patrolling himself to clear his mind.

But.

With a shy smile, he took Magnus’s hand. The Institute would be fine without him for a few hours.

[bytheangell]

Raise a Glass to the Past

(Read on AO3)

Present Day

“I was looking through your files again at work today,” Alec says, leaning his head back against Magnus’ shoulder. They’re both on the sofa, Alec nestled comfortably in the space between Magnus’ legs, leaning against Magnus while Magnus leans back against the cushions. They each hold a glass of white wine after dinner, enjoying the breeze coming in through the open balcony door, listening to the faint sound of rain falling just beyond the wall.  “Again?” Magnus asks, a light laugh chasing his words. “Ran a full Nephilim background check on me before we started dating, didn’t you?” 

Alec knows the words are spoken in jest, but the memories they bring up leave the current Head of the New York Institute biting down on his lower lip, considering his next words carefully. 

“Actually…” Alec starts before stopping abruptly. It’s a strangely personal series of events to explain, even if they all involve Magnus; somehow the idea of telling him about it brings up a lot of conflicting emotions in Alec He’s embarrassed at the guilt he felt for most of his life, at how he thought so much about the man he loves before he ever met him, that this man who changed his entire life from the second they did meet managed to shape so much of it even before that moment, without ever realizing... 

What will Magnus think if he tells him now? 

“Actually, sort of. But not intentionally. See, when I was probably about 5 or 6…” 

---

Alec, age 6 

Alec finds his way once more behind his father’s desk at the New York Institute. There are files up, files that he knows he shouldn’t be reading, but ever since he learned how to string full sentences together he’s absorbed every word he could lay his eyes on. And that includes dossiers left on computer screens in the same room as him while his father runs down to the ops room for a moment to deal with some emergency or another. 

Even kneeling on the large chair his head doesn’t clear the back of it, blocking him from view of anyone passing by the open door. Which is good, because if they did see him he probably wouldn’t get to read the page about a warlock that’s front and center, with a black-and-white photo of a man with spiked hair, slit cat-eyes, and a grin that makes Alec smile back even though he knows the man in the photo isn’t smiling at him. Magnus Bane. Those aren’t words Alec knows, but they’re words he’s heard out loud before. A name. 

His father comes back and scolds him for touching his computer (which, Alec defends, he didn’t technically do, he only read what was already open), before being ordered to re-read the section of the Shadowhunters Codex on Warlocks if he’s so damn interested in them. Alec dutifully slumps out of the chair to obey, his copy of the book marked with dozens of pencil circles of words he doesn’t know to ask about later. He’s only half focused, however, his mind frequently drifting back to the eyes and the smile of the man in the photo.   

---

Present Day

“I was your first Downworlder file. How cute.” There’s a hint of sarcasm to Magnus’ tone, one that Alec doesn’t take personally. He knows the tone of those sorts of files and the reasons why his father might’ve had it up on the computer that day. But there’s also a hint of actual endearment over the idea that Alec remembers that, even now. 

“You were,” Alec confirms. “And I have to admit, as a suggestible youth, I didn’t have the best impression of you at first.” 

“Oh, no?” At this Magnus straights up a bit, shifting behind Alec on the sofa. There’s no turning back now, Alec, realizes, not after piquing Magnus’ curiosity like that. 

“I’m sure you can imagine, but any files the Institute had on you weren’t painted in the most positive of lights…” 

---

Alec, age 8

It isn’t long before the Institute’s records, both on the computer and in the library, become freely available to Alec. He’s reached a point in his training and studies where it’s easier for him to simply look up answers on his own when he can rather than run everything back to Hodge or his parents. Because he stays out of trouble and does what he’s told when he’s told to do it (as much as any kid does, certainly more than Jace or Isabelle at the very least) he’s left to his own devices for most of the time he’s not in a lesson or training. 

This means no one is around to see him stop at Magnus Bane’s file almost every time he goes to look something else up… or should he say, files, plural. There are a lot of files on him, Alec notices, many marking him as a criminal in varying degrees: lying during Clave Inquiries, harboring fugitives, refusing to assist in investigations when his services were requested, aligning with dissenting Downworlders against Clave sanctions throughout the centuries. The bottom line is always a general disregard for the Nephilim which is all Alec is able to discern from the words on the page when he first comes across them. 

It seems simple enough at first read. He isn’t familiar with all of the terms he comes across or every single one of the various laws and regulations broken, but he doesn’t question them. This is a very powerful warlock who is capable of doing a lot of damage - and he doesn’t seem to listen to any of the rules. Hiding fugitives, helping criminals. If Magnus Bane is on the Clave’s radar then it must be for good reason, High Warlock or not. 

So when everyone around him tells Alec that Magnus is not to be trusted, despite the fact that he still feels inexplicably drawn towards the cat-eyed warlock in the photos, Alec forces himself to believe them. 

---

Present Day

“And what number is that file up to these days?” Magnus asks with an amused smile. 

“Right now? Pending review of wiping your record clean after, you know, saving the entirety of Idris and all,” Alec says, shifting himself forward enough to turn to face Magnus on the sofa as he takes a sip of his wine. “Plus, I don’t think Jia liked the idea of the Head of the New York Institute being married to someone with such an extensive criminal record.”  

They both laugh at that, Magnus shaking his head incredulously. “I don’t know… that’s a lot of history to erase. I think I’d like it better if they kept it - we could print it out and frame my accomplishments, hang them over the fireplace.” 

Alec shrugs. “We both know most of those violations were bullshit anyway,” he points out.  “Do we?” Magnus challenges playfully. “Because a moment ago you were telling me all about how young Alec Lightwood thought Magnus Bane was nothing more than a dastardly, dangerous lawbreaker.” 

Alec rolls his eyes. “I didn’t stay that naive forever.” 

---

Alec, age 10

Alec never stops asking questions, always eager to learn more, so no one thinks twice about it when he starts to ask them about the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He’s careful to approach a wide range of adults around the Institute so no single person will see that the cases he ‘randomly’ chooses to read up on for his studies all happen to revolve around a singular Warlock. 

What he learns, slowly, is that the only danger Magnus Bane poses is to the stuffy older members of the Clave who wouldn’t know how to be nice to someone if they tried. Almost all of the fugitive harboring Magnus is guilty of turns out to be for injured or wrongfully accused Downworlders (though the Clave didn’t know they were wrongfully accused at the time). But Magnus knew, and he protected them when he thought the Clave probably wouldn’t listen to a word they said if they were taken in. 

The more Alec learns about his people, the more he starts to realize that they believe they’re better than everyone else in the Shadow World. The rules are set up to favor them because they enforce the rules. The Nephilim are in a position of power in the Shadow World, dealing out justice as they see fit - this is a lesson taught to him now as something to pride himself on, but instead it leaves him feeling uneasy. 

He wants to talk to Downworlders about it but he’s forbidden. They would only feed him lies, the older Shadowhunters tell him. He doesn’t need to confuse his mind with so many sides of the same story when their side is right here for him on a silver platter. When their side, the right side, is the only one that matters.

Someone must talk to his parents because soon he’s told to stop asking questions about Magnus Bane. His job is to learn what he’s taught, to do as he’s told. 

Except his questions don’t stop there, not about Magnus, and not about himself. 

His parents take him to the wedding of a family friend and with tears in her eyes his mother smiles down at him and says “One day you’ll meet a nice young lady, and I’ll be watching you up there.” 

Alec thinks of all the girls his age and frowns. He doesn’t like any of them that way, even though he knows one or two have a crush on him. Their friends giggle about it and try to push them together during sparring, but Alec mostly finds it annoying. 

“Does it have to be a girl?” Alec whines. When he thinks of the people who make him smile, the people he might want to spend the rest of his life with (which doesn’t mean much to a nine year old who thinks the break between dinner and dessert is an eternity) his thoughts drift to a boy or two in his training classes, and then to some photos in a database that bring him more comfort than he even fully realizes. 

“Of course it does. Why would you even-” Maryse almost dismisses before her gaze turns sharp, almost fearful. 

“What if I want to marry a boy?” It’s such a simple, innocent question. He hasn’t liked any girls yet, but there are a few boys he think he might. So it only makes sense that instead of a nice young lady he’d want to marry a nice young man. 

“No, Alec. Shadowhunter boys don’t marry other boys. It isn’t-” Maryse falters. “They just don’t. You just haven’t met the right girl yet, but you will. I promise.” 

Alec considers this. “But what if-” 

“Alec, I said no. This isn’t up for discussion. And don’t ever mention this to anyone else, okay? Especially not to your father.” They’re speaking in whispers to begin with, and though Robert is only two seats away on the other side of Isabelle he’s entirely oblivious to the conversation. Izzy looks like she may have been listening but turns her head quickly. 

Alec simply nods and keeps the rest of his thoughts on the matter to himself, not just for that day but for years to come. 

---

Alec, present day

“I always knew how I felt was different, but that was the first time I realized it was wrong,” Alec admits. “And up to that point I was nothing but the perfect son, I didn’t want-- I didn’t want to ruin that.” 

“Maryse knew,” Magnus realizes, surprised. 

Alec nods. “My father was the only one who didn’t, or maybe he was just in such deep denial he convinced himself he didn’t notice. But I think everyone else had an idea, at least. Izzy was the only one who ever tried to bring it up but I denied it long enough that she stopped trying. My mom never mentioned it again after that wedding, and neither did I. Well, not until…” 

“Not until your wedding,” Magnus says, smirking ever so slightly. 

“It was kind of hard not to talk about it after the stunt you pulled, yeah,” Alec points out, and though he tries to sound accusatory he’s smiling back, unable to help himself. . 

“The stunt I pulled? It takes two to tango, Mister. You could’ve just taken me out of the room to talk, you didn’t have to make out with me in a hall full of Shadowhunters,” Magnus counters, eyebrow raised in amusement before growing serious once more. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide who you are for so long.” 

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “Me too.” 

---

Alec, age 12

“Please?” Alec begs, hazel eyes large as he tugs at the back of his mother’s dress. “Let me go to the meeting! I promise I’ll behave. I won’t say a word, you won’t even know I’m there.” He’s twelve-and-three-quarters now, nearly thirteen whole years old. Plenty old enough to sit in on a meeting. In fact, his parents have dragged him along to countless meetings he didn’t want to be in, so he doesn’t know why this one is such a big deal. 

Maryse shares a look with Robert who only shakes his head. “You can come to the next meeting we have with the Clave. Not this one. I don’t even want to be in this one.” Alec’s father mutters the last bit, earning him a reproachful look from Maryse. 

“But I don’t want to go to a Clave meeting. I want to go to this one,” Alec insists. 

“Why this one?” Maryse asks, and Alec opens his mouth to answer before snapping it shut again quickly. What can he tell them? That he overheard them talking about meeting with the local Warlock representative? That he wants to be in the same room as Magnus for more than 5 seconds, to hear the man speak and see if he’s anything like what Alec imagines after reading every report on him they have? 

“Because I already know a lot about Shadowhunter things. I want to learn more about Warlocks, too.” Not a total lie. 

Both Maryse and Robert exchange a hesitant look. “Alec, sweetie. The man we have to meet with… well, he doesn’t like us very much. It’s already going to be a very difficult meeting... Maybe we can bring you along to talk with some other warlock another time. You just be good for Hodge, okay? We’ll be back soon.” 

They’re gone before Alec can ask any of the dozen follow-up questions running through his head. Us? Did Magnus not like him either, even though they never met? Did he hate all Shadowhunters? So many questions that Alec knows he’ll never get the answers to because he knows better than to ask now. 

...then again, maybe no answer is better than getting a truth he doesn’t want to hear. 

While his parents are gone he goes back to the computer. Back to the files and the photos. It’s safe, and it’s become almost a ritual habit by this point to imagine a world where the things he’s starting to feel for boys isn’t something he can’t talk about; a world where his gaze can linger on more than just a photo on a screen without being seen as a cause for concern. 

---

Alec, age 14

“Son, we need to talk. You’re coming of an age now when you’re going to start having… impulses. You see, when you like a girl-” Robert Lightwood begins after making it a point to call Alec into his room after watching one of the girls in his class flirt with him endlessly during his last training session, going so far as to try and lean up for a kiss after he pinned her to the mat. Alec had never moved so fast in his life to jump back from it but apparently that part was lost on his father. The fact that Alec got a lot of attention from the girls his age, however, was not overlooked. 

Alec doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he already knows all about sex. Word travels fast once one kid gets The Talk and his dad is a year and a half late to this party. He also doesn’t have the heart to tell him that liking girls, Alec is now entirely certain, is never going to be an issue. 

Or perhaps it’s going to be the biggest issue, because his mother’s words still echo in his head, creating a cycle of guilt and shame every time he does feel an impulse, just not about any of the girls he’s around. He barely looks at the other boys, afraid of what might happen if he looks too long, or the wrong way. Afraid someone will notice… that someone will know. 

For now he forces himself to smile back at the giggling girls, but he hates it. And every time Jace ends up stepping in oozing charm to pull the attention away from him it leaves him feeling equal parts grateful and sick to his stomach, because he wants Jace to smile at him like that. He wants any boy to smile at him like that. 

Except every time a boy is even remotely kind to him he’s afraid it’s because of something he did that he didn’t realize, or something he let slip that he didn’t catch, and so he closes himself off entirely. He throws himself completely into training, into work, and into files stored away he sometimes forgets are for everyone’s use, and not just his own personal escape. 

---

Alec, age 17

Duty first, his father tells him. He’s being raised to run an Institute, to help bring the Lightwood name back to its former glory and prestige. That leaves no room for error… it certainly leaves no room for his attraction to guys, especially not his troubling feelings for his parabatai or his increasing infatuation with Magnus Bane. 

His exposure to Downworlders has increased significantly since he, Izzy, and Jace began sneaking out to a Downworld-run diner downtown. Izzy and Jace have both dallied in the company of romantic partners who would give their parents a heart attack to learn about, but not Alec. He watches from afar, daydreaming but never partaking. He can’t, not with anyone he actually wants to. Part of him knows that they’d never say anything if he told them but he doesn’t want to put that sort of burden on either of them. Because that’s what it is, and that’s all it will ever be: a burden. 

He gets the feeling he’d be more easily forgiven for wanting to spend his time with downworlder girls than Shadowhunter boys, if his feelings were simply an act of teenage rebellion. If only. He knows by now that Shadowhunter, Downworlder, or even mundane, the only people he’s ever going to like are going to be boys. And he knows that will never be okay. 

So instead of smiling back at the waiter he keeps pointedly avoiding eye contact with he watches after Izzy and Jace, yearning for the freedom they have and their honest sense of selves. They can afford to sneak out, to mess up, to disappoint - the same pressures and expectations aren’t put on them that are put on him, and he envies them for it. He shoulders the burdens so they don’t have to, defending them at every turn in the hopes they never feel the crippling shame he experiences every single day. 

---

Alec, age 20

Alec gets stuck with the task of assisting with updating all of the databases with more up-to-date photos after getting caught sneaking into the Institute at 3 am one night. In truth, he only allowed himself to get caught by security in order to buy Jace and Izzy enough time to run in the opposite direction - both of them are already on probation this month while he has, as usual, a nearly spotless record. He’ll take the hit this time and they’ll owe him a huge favor later, one he’ll be sure to make count. 

“I can’t believe he supplied us with his own photos,” says a voice followed by laughter from one of the other Shadowhunters on the project. 

“Who?” Alec asks, only half-listening for the answer. He doesn’t particularly care, 

“Magnus Bane,” comes the reply in a tone full of contempt. Alec freezes, nearly dropping the stack of photos in his hands. “Said, and I quote, ‘Our security cameras never pick up his good side’.” 

“Let me see,” Alec manages, wondering if he sounds as anxious as he feels. They all look over the offering Magnus sent over, most of which are from that club in town that he owns now, Pandemonium. Some of the photos are just him, others have an assortment of men and women in extremely close proximity. One photo looks downright compromising and Alec has to turn away quickly to avoid anyone seeing the fierce blush that crosses his face. It’s the first time he realizes that maybe Magnus is like him, a simple reminder that he can’t possibly be the only person in the entirety of the shadow world who likes the same gender. Magnus looks so comfortable, so carefree in that photo, and Alec wants that, too. 

For a moment he closes his eyes and imagines a world where he has a chance at happiness without having to hide, where he can be bold enough to take a photo with another man, to leave a lingering touch--

And then it’s gone. 

The names and jokes that follow at Magnus’ expense make Alec’s blood boil as much as they make his stomach turn, because a lot of them could just as easily be aimed at him. They are, indirectly, not that anyone other than him knows it. Alec doesn’t know how long it goes on before something inside him snaps. 

“He really isn’t that bad, you know,” Alec mutters. 

“What was that, Lightwood?” One of his peers questions. 

“Magnus Bane,” Alec says, louder now. “From what I’ve read on his file, he really isn’t that bad. Most of his charges were due to misinformation.” 

“I heard he and Camille Belcourt were a thing once. Bet he gets her to just encanto everyone who catches him,” one suggests. 

“Yeah. My father was part of a raid on some rogue werewolves Bane defended in the early 90s. He never got charged for that, either, but my uncle nearly died,” another says. 

Alec decides to cut his losses and not bring up the fact that most of those raids were unjustified, the charges were dropped because the warlocks and werewolves were only reacting in self-defense. 

The photos Magnus sent in end up in the trash and the standard security camera footage uploaded in their place. Alec can’t help but think that the photos are unnecessary anyway - every side is Magnus’ ‘good side’. 

---

Present Day

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Do you know how long it took me to pick out the best photos for that?” he says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “The least they could’ve done is return them to me. Didn’t have to throw them out.” 

Alec, however, finds it difficult to be amused by the story, even now. “Doesn’t it bother you? That that’s how some Shadowhunters see you? Not just you, but all of the Downworlders?” It’s something that’s bothered Alec more and more ever since he saw the sort of reception Magnus got for the brief period he stayed at the Institute with him. Of course Alec isn’t naive enough to think the bias is gone, that people would change their minds overnight just because the Head of the Institute was with a Downworlder, but… he expects more than what he got. He expects better. Magnus deserves better. 

“Of course it does, Alexander. But there are some people so stuck in their antiquated ways that they’ll never change, not for you, and certainly not for me. If I worried about everyone with an unfavorable opinion of me then I wouldn’t have any energy left for the people actually worth my time and effort. People like you.” 

Alec relaxes a little at that. 

“I wasn’t so sure I’d be one of those people when the first time I saw you at Pandemonium ended with you fleeing through a Portal,” Alec admits. 

---

Alec, age 24

Alec keeps an eye on Jace and Clary… and Magnus. It’s the closest he’s been in years, not trusting his own instinctive reactions enough to dare come to the club on his own. Magnus is so much more attractive in person, and the guilt that wells up inside of him at the simple observation is nearly enough to drown under. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell on it before a Circle member sneaks up behind Magnus and Alec takes him out with one well-aimed shot from his arrow, careful to avoid eye contact with Magnus as he walks by him to retrieve his arrow and scan the crowded room for other attackers. He has a job to do, he can’t allow his emotions to distract him.  

 “Who are you?” Magnus asks out loud, unaware that a few recently activated runes allows Alec to hear the words over the thump of the music even at this distance. Alec has to fight against the shiver of anticipation that runs down his spine in that moment. 

Because Magnus Bane may not know who he is -  not yet - but Alec certainly knows who he is. How do you explain to someone you just met that they’ve held your interest for years? Short answer: you don’t. 

Alec focuses on his arrow, on the Circle member, and by the time he turns back around Magnus is gone and Alec’s following Jace, Clary, and Izzy out of the club without looking back.

Alec doesn’t miss his chance the next time they meet, not long after and under strangely similar circumstances.

“Well done,” Alec says, allowing his bow to drop slowly once he’s certain his arrow hit its mark. His shot is followed quickly by a blast of blue magic which renders the circle member unconscious. Alec looks away from Magnus, aware of how long he’s waited for this moment: their first meeting. Just to be in the same room as him-- 

“More like medium rare,” Magnus says, and Alec’s thankful he’s looking away because he doesn’t know what he’d do if his first proper interaction with Magnus Bane is for him to catch Alec rolling his eyes at the pun. 

It isn’t long before Magnus makes his way across the room and into Alec’s space. “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” 

“Alec.” He smiles. The only thing he can think is that the photos and faraway glances didn’t do justice to even half of Magnus’ beauty. And then he realizes he’s staring, smiling like some dopey schoolboy, and he can’t seem to make his mouth stop grinning. “Um, we uh, should really, uh, probably get, you know…” 

Alec silently prays to the Angel for the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, which would be far less excruciating than his fumbling. Magnus, to his credit, doesn’t seem deterred. “Right. We should join the party,” Magnus agrees, finishing his thought for him. 

And the rest? Well, the rest is history. Their history. 

---

Present Day

As he finishes recounting the impact Magnus had on his life before they even met, Alec’s face is a little flush despite the cool autumn air; whether it’s from the tinge of embarrassment over the story he kept to himself for so long or the alcohol (which he blames for blurting all of that out) finally starting to get to him he can’t tell. 

“Alexander…” Magnus says, voice soft and eyes full of an emotion that Alec can’t quite place at first. “I had no clue-” 

“Of course you didn’t,” Alec says with a soft laugh. “You had no way of knowing. Honestly, I never even planned on telling you. But that’s what made it so easy for me to trust you from the very start - I knew you were a good person before I even met you. It wasn’t just that I always dreamed of meeting someone like you… I just always dreamed of meeting you.” Alec takes a deep breath. “But do you know what finally made it sink in that it didn’t have to be just a dream?” 

Magnus doesn’t ask what, he doesn’t have to. The curiosity is written all over his face and he remains silent, giving Alec the time to finish his story at his own pace. 

“The day we tried to get Clary’s memories back, when I ruined the summoning circle. You told me I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of,” Alec’s voice is quiet now. “It was the first time I had the hope that that might be true. That there might be one person out there who wouldn’t look at me, at what I wanted or who I wanted, and only see something that needed to be hidden.” 

Magnus reaches across and takes his hand. “I’m glad you listened.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me,” Alec admits. “I didn’t exactly make it easy on you.” 

But Magnus shakes his head. “All my life, the only times Shadowhunters were willing to give me a chance were when they needed something from me: a deal, or a favor. You aren’t the first to see that file and form a judgement, but you’re one of the first to look beyond it. To see me as a person, and not just someone with something to offer.” Magnus smiles again. “It seems to me, Alexander, that you didn’t give up on me, either.” 

Alec thinks about that for a moment and nods, and then turns and grabs his glass of wine. “To not giving up on each other, then” he offers. 

Magnus mirrors the motion, glass meeting glass in the space between them on the sofa. “To never giving up on each other.” 

They drink, and Magnus shifts to lean back against Alec, Alec’s hand moving up to brush through his husband’s hair. The last thing Alec thinks as they drift off to sleep on the sofa, Magnus first and Alec close behind, is how nice it is to go from never dreaming he’d have someone like Magnus in his life to dreaming about Magnus every time he closes his eyes, no longer ashamed of the love he deserves.

[noxstellacaelum]

Clary STILL deserved her story

So, Todd Slavkin, the showrunner (along with Darren Swimmer) of Seasons 2 and 3 of Shadowhunters TV, just published a book about his time with the show.  It purports to be a BTS account of his experience running SHTV, with proceeds going to the Trevor Project and a couple of other charities. Sigh.  Every damn time I think I am finally through with this silly, pulpy show, I get pissed off all over again.   

The TL;DR version:  OH MY GOD CAN THIS MAN PLEASE JUST STOP???!!!!  SHTV had the IP rights to the 6-book Mortal Instruments Series.  Clary is the protagonist of this series:  Her journey is the scaffolding upon which the series’ narrative is constructed.  Centering Clary (and her love Jace) in what author Cassie Clare has described as a “girl power” story was an intentional narrative choice in TMI. So why, then, did Todd and Darren treat all of the female characters like garbage and erase Clary’s entire narrative arc in favor of bizarre non-canon plot twists and ancillary characters? Why did they encourage toxic fandom ship wars that pitted fans of Clary (and her love Jace) against fans of Malec?  We NEVER, EVER should have had to choose between representation of LGBTQ+ characters and stories and Clary’s narrative arc.  

Longer version:

First, credit where credit is due.  I am glad that Todd is raising money for worthy charities.  I am a long-time supporter of the Trevor Project, and the show and its fans have been loyal supporters of this organization for at-risk LGBT+ youth for years. Good for him for publicly supporting the Trevor Project once again.

Second, SHTV is to be commended for its racially diverse casting (casting choices for which Todd and Darren cannot claim credit, BTW, since they were brought on in S2) and for its commitment to representation for LGBT+ characters and relationships.  While the show was far from perfect in this regard, in my view -- I don’t think they got bi representation right with Magnus -- credit is due. 

BUT NO AMOUNT OF VIRTUE SIGNALING OR REPRESENTATION THROUGH MALEC CAN MAKE UP FOR THE MESS THAT DARREN AND TODD MADE OF SHTV, ESPECIALLY IN 3B AND THE FINALE. I have gone down this rabbit hole so many times, so I will just summarize here:

In a nutshell, every female character was hijacked.  

- For example, Mayrse seems to have existed in S2 and S3 solely to be punished for her S1 homophobia through a non-canon de-runing, then redeemed by becoming captain of the Malec ship.  In S3, in particular, it’s as though she has no other children. She does not realize that Jace has been possessed by Lilith.  She is never shown helping Jace deal with the loss and heartbreak he experiences first after thinking that Clary was killed by Lilith, and then after Clary’s memory is wiped. Literally the only moment that Mayrse and Jace appear together in the finale is at the Malec wedding -- when she (along with everyone else) neglects to realize that Clary is distraught because her runes are disappearing.  By the end of the finale, Mayrse is surfing in Brazil, worried about the effect of humidity on her hair, while Jace remains suicidal and grieving.  Seriously?!?!?!  Putting aside all of the non-canon fan service plot twists, have the showrunners ever met a mother?  No mother would ignore the pain and trauma that Jace experienced due to his possession by Lilith, or after Clary’s exile from the shadow world.  And, what does show Mayre’s treatment of Jace say about adoption?  For a show so concerned about representation, what about Jace’s story as a survivor of abuse and neglect?

Clary. What is there even to say.  

- For one thing, the show completely botched Clary’s love life.  First, there was the jumping into bed with Simon, her lifelong best friend, without any sense of struggle/ uncertainty about her feelings, followed by episode after episode of Climon shipping.  Book Clary is conflicted -- she doesn’t always treat Simon very well, but she’s 15 (in the books), and she’s dealing with her identify as a shadowhunter and her feelings for Jace (and the whole incest story line (which I am glad the show dealt with reasonably quickly)). Show Clary seems almost entirely unconflicted.  It’s as though sex with Simon was no big deal -- even though the show suggests that Simon (HER BEST FRIEND) may well have been her first sexual experience, and forgetting the fact that she’d clearly been falling for Jace (who she now thinks is her brother). 

-Second, the Dark Clary storyline is creepy, at best, especially regarding Clary’s sexuality.  Think about it.  Clary  does not sleep with Jace on the show until after Lilith puts the twinning rune on her.  (Despite having jumped into bed with Simon no problem.)  And then, full-on Dark Clary is shown going down on Jace in a club, and assaulting him, when he was grief-stricken and basically roofied. (Apparently, the only time women on the show get to be sexually assertive is when they are evil (read-Lilith) or possessed (Clary)).  None of this made any sense. 

-Third, the memory wipe is total bullshit.  In what TMI universe would Clary, the protagonist, be left alone on an NYC in a skimpy party dress, with no money, no identity, no memories of the past 4 months, no apartment, no mother, no father figure, no love of her life, no best friend, and no chosen family?  In what universe would her love Jace not have seen her runes disappearing?  In what universe would Jace have let Clary walk about the door sobbing, especially when she had just killed her last living relative to save the world, and after she had only just returned from the twinning rune/dark side?   In what universe would an angel have exiled Clary from the shadow world, and taken away her memories, after she saved the world?  Especially when literally every other character got to keep the Sight despite their bad acts (read, Valentine, Aldertree, Jace as the owl, possessed Alec after killing Clary’s mother, Sebastian/ Jonathan after mass murder ...)

Maia’s random Jace hookup. ‘Nuff said.

And finally, the Jace character was basically collateral damage for all of this.

- The show vacillated between blaming Jace for Magnus/Alec/ Malec problems (Magnus losing his magic to free Jace from Lilith) and erasing the parabatai bond between Alec and Jace entirely, especially in 3B, even though though the parabatai relationship is core SH canon.  Alec doesn’t realize Jace is possessed for most of 3A.  He tells Jace to suck it up in 3x11 when Jace is clearly grieving and suicidal.  And, he is shown mixing cocktails in Alicante with Magnus in the finale without a care in the world for Jace’s struggle in the year following Clary’s exile.  It’s all Malec all the time for Alec.  Yes, Jace/Alec have their ups and downs in the books.  But they work through them.  And, the parabatai bond is a source of strength for both book Alec and book Jace. With a couple of exceptions, this nuanced and lovely book relationship is lost in the show.

- In fact, the show deprived Jace of every relationship.  As noted above, Mayrse doesn’t seem to remember that Jace is her child in S3.  Alec is focused entirely on his relationship with Magnus most of the time.  Jace and Clary have basically no screen time as a couple.  And, no one really seems to give a shit. Not for Jace the son/sibling/parabatai.  And not for his mental health, or his trauma after a childhood of abuse and neglect.

After all of this, the wedding was just icing on the cake. Alec and Magnus’s marriage is well-earned in Clare’s books. They get married after five years of a healthy, loving, committed relationship.  They remain -- in addition to their relationship with eachother -- son/sibling/parabatai (Alec) and a brave and loving downworlder (Magnus).  None of this let’s get married the day after Jonathan’s mass slaughter and after Clary is forced to kill her last living relative, after three or so months of mostly unsuccessful dating.

I want to be clear that I LOVE the Malec relationship, and that representation of this relationship as loving, healthy and joyous has a great deal of personal meaning to me.  But I should never have had to sacrifice Clary (and her love Jace) to see a meaningful relationship between Magnus and Alec on-screen.  We ALL deserve nice things, after all.  Lifting up Malec NEVER, EVER mean we had to destroy Clary, Jace and Clace.

SO, I’ll be donating on my own to the Trevor Project.  Maybe someday Todd and Darren will reflect upon the damage that they did.

[flower-of-the-desert]

I have to say I cheered loudly when Jonathan dropped the tea on Clary about why he is the way he is. Clary - and the show in general I’d say - love to lean into the idea that Jonathan’s problem is his demon blood (which is bullshit). That’s why Clary immediately conters him by saying that Jace didnt become like that although he too was raised by Valentine.

And Jonathan delivers a great comeback. Jace wasnt sent to hell for the next 10 years to be constantly tortured by someone who claimed to love him. Because that’s the thing - Jonathan didnt become the way he is because of his blood or because he was ~born that way~. He became the way he is because of what was done to him by both his father and his mother and Jocelyn.

Jace was raised and abused by Valentine, yes. But after that Jace got away. He was taken in by the Lightwoods who provided a much needed (if imperfect) support system and gave Jace the love and support he needed to break away from the cycle of abuse Valentine put him in. So he was able to grow up relatively well (of course, we can clearly see that despite that he still carries the scars of his abuse and he’s dealing with serious mental health problems).

But Jonathan didnt have that. He wasnt given that chance. So I think he was absoluely right to remind Clary of that fact and also that she herself has plenty of people she loves and who are good people despite the fact that they have demon blood just like Jonathan. Because that blood doesnt determine your goodness.

I hope they continue to explore this theme with the two of them.

[takaraphoenix]

Review: 3x16 - Stay With Me

How are all of Clary's plans somehow always complete and utter bullshit?? She is not stupid, but every single time you ask her to figure out a solution for something, she comes up with the worst possible idea. It's... kind of amazing. “Hey, let's summon Lilith. You know, the woman who made you kill your grandmother and all those innocent mundies!”...

I've been really tired of the way they ignore Jace – and Jace's trauma – this half-season but honestly, this episode just takes the cake. “Sure, let's face the woman who did all of this to you and let's not give you any reaction to that at all”... Fuck you. Fuck you so hard. It's now all about Clary, huh, Jace is really just her prop now. Let him deal with shit too instead of acting like he should just go and support Clary through hers! Last half-season was doing so well at letting Dom emote and having Jace react to traumatic things and show how much they affect him. This half-season just has not even half a fuck to give about Jace as a character. Congratulations, you are now officially demoted to only being half of C/ace.

On that note: I have grown tired of Clary's special runes. They're the singularly laziest deus ex machina I have ever seen in any medium. She can literally just do whatever she needs to do. If there is a hard task, something they couldn't do – oh, never mind, Clary will just get a super special convenient rune that does exactly the thing they need to do at the moment! No need to actually come up with a proper solution to the problem!

Gods, I love Catarina. I love Catarina a lot. I wish we would get more Catarina. But her telling Alec to calm the fuck down – because he is not just Magnus' boyfriend, he is also the head of the Institute and can't just go and threaten the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Oh look, Meliorn. Another character I wish we would be seeing more often. Seriously, he is not a “character”, he is literally just “we need a Seelie with a speaking role”... like... damn.

It is insanely creepy that the queen, who has been a little child for most her run now, immediately slips into “age-appropriate hot adult woman” when Jonathan comes around. Like, seriously. If they would have had her just change shape before, as in not having the kid in this half-season at all, it would have been far less creepy. Because all I can now think of is the little girl who played her last. This is weird. On multiple levels, honestly.

Luke too deserves better. And while they pretend that he is a main character, let's be really real he has never actually been a main character. He was always at the sidelines, none of his plotlines were ever fully developed. And now he's just... in prison. I thought the praetor was a good thing but that hella shady deal in the end was more of a “Hnnng. What shady shit are they going to be?”...

“Maia is where she should be, with Jordan at the praetor”... how did you think that was in any way or shape a good sentence for Simon to say? Like, at all?? I mean, seriously, not even two weeks ago Simon was ready to tear Jordan apart for what had gone down between Maia and Jordan and then Maia left because of Jordan and now suddenly Simon thinks that being with the guy who put her through so much pain is exactly where she should be...? Were the writers thinking at all...?

And oh, Simon - “It wasn't easy” - what about the mark-removal wasn't easy? It literally took five fucking minutes and the only special thing you needed was the stone that Cain had given to you. And then some additional blood. Seriously, even if Izzy hadn't been there in person, getting a bag of Shadowhunter blood would not have been hard. Removing the mark had been remarkably easy.

Also, on that note: I absolutely love how addiction only sets in when it's convenient to the story. When they needed to make Isabelle suffer. Simon feeding on Jace? Not any kind of effect on either of them. Simon feeding on Isabelle? Gave her the munchies but somehow didn't throw her right back into it – which it should have. For all intends and purposes. She had been sober for like three weeks at this point. Not even a whole month. An addict who gets a shot again after such a short time of sobriety wouldn't just brush that off as easily as Isabelle. But right now, the addiction plotline is not convenient for the story so they are just not going to do it. And just, overall: Fuck you.

Jonathan is such a poor fucking bastard. I mean, seriously. His biological mother was ready to instant-murder him without getting to know him (even though she aimed her arrows at the wrong JC), his father abused him for ten years and then literally tossed him to hell and his other mother burned his skin off and did who knows what to him down there.

Wow. You so dramatic, Shadowhunters. Better ways to restrain Jonathan: Tie him to a bed. Not hang him from the ceiling like a fucking puppet. What the actual fuck. How does he eat, drink and go to the toilet like that? How is this practical? It's really just dramatic.

The TL;DR of it all:

Clary, stop coming up with bullshit plans

LET JACE DEAL WITH HIS TRAUMA YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHATS

give justice to characters beside the main six, like, seriously

actually also give justice to the main characters. Simon and Isabelle and their plotlines are just pushed aside so much. “Removed the mark of Cain in five minutes flat!” - “Did not relapse even for a little while after Si fed on me!”

I'm really, really tired, ya know

[katychan666]

I'm really sorry if it's inconvenient but I was wondering if I could request for a malec one shot or something? Where malec and a few friends head out to a bar and magnus goes to get drinks while Alec stays with the others and while Magnus is at the bar some dick-was starts hitting on him and making him really uncomfortable (like touchy-touchy and trying to buy him a drink and all that horrible stuff) and magnus keeps telling him to stop but he won't. Then Alec storms over and "sorts shit out"?

I hope you like it ;)

“Ah, finally… an evening out,” said Magnus happily, holding Alec’s hand as they were making their way to the Hunter’s Moon with Izzy and Simon. The four of them decided that it had been far too long since they had gone out like this and when Izzy proposed the idea, Alec and Magnus were immediately interested in going out with them. Simon and Alec had gotten closer recently, so there was no hostility in between them, Alec and Simon chatting, while Izzy grinned and she nodded.

“It’s been so long since we went out together like this,” said Izzy and Magnus nodded in agreement, looking over at Alec, whose hold around his hand tightened just a little bit and Magnus happily beamed when he felt Alec’s thumb gently caressing the back of his palm, happily sighing when they finally made it to the bar, Simon and Izzy going inside first, followed by Magnus and Alec. Simon picked them a table at the far right corner and they sat down, happily chatting.

“I’m happy you agreed to go out with us, big brother,” suddenly said Isabelle and Alec looked over at her, shrugging. “I thought you had lots of paper work to sort out due to tomorrow,” she then commented and Alec shrugged.

“Well,” said Alec and a little sly smirk spread across his face. “I let Raj deal with that,” he then said and waggled his eyebrows, making Magnus grin next to him when he saw the naughty smirk on his boyfriend’s face. Ah, Alexander loved messing around with the idiotic Shadowhunter and he pressed his lips together. “It’ll do him good… for his character building,” he then added and Magnus started laughing, Izzy doing the same and Simon just chuckled.

“It’s pity Jace and Clary couldn’t make it,” said Simon and Alec wrinkled his nose. In his opinion, they were all lucky that the two of them couldn’t make it, but he wasn’t going to make a comment about it. However, the look on his face said it all and Magnus started cracking up, because he knew exactly what was going on in his boyfriend’s mind. He then looked towards the bar and narrowed his eyes when he saw that no one was getting to get their order.

Maia wasn’t there as it wasn’t her shift that evening and all of the other waiters seemed very busy. Well, the place was quite crowded, so Magnus couldn’t really blame them. Because the other three were chatting, Magnus decided to go get their drinks instead. “I’ll go order us drinks,” announced Magnus and Alec looked at him. “What are ya’ll having?”

“Oh, um… martini,” said Izzy and Magnus grinned.

“Ah, a true woman of class,” said Magnus and then looked over at her brother. “Alexander?”

“Beer,” said Alec and after Simon said he wasn’t in the mood for anything, Magnus was on his way. “Want me to go with you?” he asked, Magnus shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss on top of Alec’s lips, who wore a little shy smile on his face once Magnus pulled back as his sister and her boyfriend were watching them and he cleared his throat.

“No need to, darling,” said Magnus with a wink. “I can manage ordering drinks on my own,” he then added and after one final kiss on top of Alec’s temples, he walked over to the bar, smiling as he felt Alec’s eyes on him. Alec kept looking over to his boyfriend for little while, until he turned back to the other two and continued chatting with them.

Magnus sighed under his breath, because the bar was empty and he rolled his eyes, but sat down as he waited for one of the waiters to come back. In the meantime, as he was waiting, he noticed someone from the other side of the bar looking at him and Magnus narrowed his eyes. The guy watching him was a Shadowhunter, quite easy on the eyes indeed, but the look in his eyes… Magnus didn’t like it one bit. It was almost predatory, really rubbing Magnus the wrong way and he then just shifted his gaze away, rubbing the back of his neck and he then started tapping with his fingers against the bar, whistling as he waited for someone to finally take his order.

Much to Magnus’ horror, the guy that was sitting far away from him, stood up and walked over him, sitting onto the seat next to his and Magnus rolled his eyes. Great, now he had an annoying creep on his hands. Well, he was just going to let him know that he wasn’t interested as Magnus caught on pretty fast why the man was watching at him like that.

“Hello, sweetheart,” said the guy and Magnus could gag. Just the way he spoke to him… it was tacky. And even though his voice was dripping with fake sweetness, Magnus could see right through his bullshit. Nope, the man’s attentions were anything but innocent. There was just something that didn’t sit with Magnus right. However, he was still trying to have some faith into the guy’s sanity. Most of the people he encountered gave up soon after he told them he was already in a relationship.

“Not interested,” shut him Magnus right away and the guy started laughing.

“Oh, a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” asked the guy and scooted a bit closer to him, Magnus rolling his eyes again and he quickly moved his hand away when the guy was about to touch his hand. “Come on, drop the act… stop playing hard to get. I know you want me,” said the guy and Magnus could almost laugh. Wow. Guys like this one were pathetic, so full of themselves.

“I have a boyfriend, not interested. Sorry,” said Magnus.

“He doesn’t need to know,” said the guy and waggled his eyebrows, leaning closer. “Let me buy you a drink,” he said and Magnus gave him an unimpressed look. “And show you what real fun feels like,” he then whispered into Magnus’ ear, who felt sick down to his stomach and he quickly shoved the man away, but didn’t make too big of a scene about it. He just wanted one peaceful evening out with his friends without any drama, so this was why he decided to grit his teeth and try his best to ignore the imbecile. However, if he wouldn’t stop, Magnus was frying his ass.

“Leave me alone,” grumbled Magnus and his face brightened when someone finally came to Magnus to take his order. However, before he could speak up, the idiot interrupted him.

“Two whiskeys, please,” said the guy with a sleazy tone of voice.

“Oh my god, just please-”

“Aw, baby, why are you like this?” asked the guy and wrapped an arm around the warlock, who tensed under his touch and if looks could kill the hunter would drop dead at that exact moment when he placed his hand on top of Magnus’. Magnus looked at the guy and put on one of the fakest smiles he could muster, no longer playing nice.

“Remove the fucking hand or you won’t have it for much longer,” said Magnus.

“Oooh… dangerous,” said the guy and Magnus was just… done. “I like it.”

It was when the guy placed his hand on Magnus’ thigh that the warlock lost it. He just felt… dirty. It had been a while since he had last been disrespected like that and he was honestly appalled and taken back by the sheer disrespect that the guy was showing him. He could easily tell that the guy was looking down on him because he was a warlock. As soon as the dirty hand touched his thigh, the idiot felt a painful sting in his hand and quickly removed it.

“Mother fucker,” yelled out the guy, withdrawing his hand in pain and he gave an offended look to Magnus. “You attacked me!”

“It was self-defence,” said Magnus and then looked away.

“Listen to me, warlock,” grumbled the Shadowhunter and grabbed the collar of Magnus’ shirt. “You’ll listen to what I say. You’ll go home with me and allow me to get a taste of your sweet little ass or I’ll go to the Clave and tell them that you just attacked me out of nowhere,” hissed the guy, face red with anger. Magnus’ jaw dropped; the guy was horrible.

Awful!

Trying to blackmail him into sex with him? Using that poor excuse? Magnus was preparing to strike him back with his magic, but then someone stormed over to them, pushed the guy away from Magnus and yanked him by the collar of his shirt, pinning him against the bar .A little smirk spread across Magnus’ face when he saw Alec holding the idiot tightly by the collar of his shirt, pinning him hard against the bar.

Alec kept wondering what was taking Magnus so long to return back with the drinks and his jaw dropped when he saw a man sitting very close to his boyfriend, his arm wrapped around his shoulders. However, he lost it when he saw the guy getting more aggressive, seeing red with anger and he just stormed over to the two of them, ready to punch the guy and all of his rational way of thinking flew out of the window when he heard just what disgusting things the idiot was saying.

“What the hell is going on here?” snapped Alec, holding the guy tightly by his collar and he then looked over at Magnus, who was just sitting there in complete silence. “Magnus, you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” said Magnus and shook his head. “The idiot, he-”

“I know what he did,” said Alec, his voice deadly calm and he then looked over at the idiot, who flinched when he saw the other Shadowhunter looking at him. The stranger wasn’t from New York, so he didn’t know who Magnus nor Alec were. However, he had heard of the Lightwoods and, oh boy, was he going to get it! “I’ve heard all of the bullshit that came out of his idiotic mouth,” he growled and he then pressed the idiot tighter against the bar.

“Hey! I meant no harm. I was just trying to have some fun and-”

“Meant no harm?” asked Alec. “You were trying to pressure my boyfriend into-”

“You’re dating a warlock?!” asked the hunter in disbelief and started cracking up, disgusted. “Wow, how low can you even-” he started, but he was cut off when Alec looked at him and Magnus kept being silent, because he knew that the guy was going to get it. Seeing Alec in his protective mode was… wow. When he got all like that, he was like a beast… a sexy one. At least to Magnus and he swallowed back a smirk when he saw real fear nestling into the guy’s eyes.

“I suggest you select your next words very carefully if you ever want to work again,” snapped Alec and the guy then scoffed, thinking that Alec was just bluffing.

“Oh yeah? And who are you that will tell me that?”

“Alec Lightwood, the Head of the New York Institute,” said Alec and then the guy went really pale, Alec grinning and he slowly released him. “And you are?” asked Alec, the guy quickly backing away. However, Alec wasn’t going to get him away that easily and before he could run away, Magnus trapped the idiot with his magic, the guy freezing in place.

Alec knew that he needed to report this incident to the Clave. If he wanted to do this now, then he must had tried to do this before. And Alec couldn’t have this repeating. “You won’t be released until you tell us your name,” said Alec and the guy started panicking, trying to struggle against the magical restrains, but he then just bowed his head down and told Alec his name, Magnus eventually letting hi free. Alec made sure he wrote the name down, but before he could say something else, the guy was already running away and Magnus started shaking his head.

“Coward,” said Magnus.

“Yeah,” said Alec and then looked at his boyfriend, cupping his face. “Are you really okay?”

“Of course,” said Magnus and winked. “You were so amazing out there,” said Magnus and waggled his eyebrows, Alec flushing a little bit and he kissed Magnus softly on top of his lips, looking over at Izzy and Simon, who were curiously looking over at them. Alec and Magnus looked over at each other and Alec took in a deep breath.

“Now,” said Alec. “Let’s get those drinks.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” said Magnus and the four of them finally got their drinks, the encounter with the idiot just a bad memory. Magnus didn’t let such an idiot ruin his fun, meanwhile Alec made sure he let the authorities know about the idiot’s creepy behaviour.

[angclicals-blog]

⟨  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  / /    CAITO, JASON.   ⟩

hello, everyone ! i’m admin fox, i’m twenty years old ( twenty one on the 30th woop woop ! ),  my pronouns are she/they but i go by any of them tbh & i’m from brazil so i’m in the brt timezone ! i currently have two muses, jace & rusty, and this post is all about my angry baby jace a.k.a. jason ! all of his info is below the cut, and if you’d like to plot pretty please message me or give this post a heart ! some trigger warnings for suicide, child abuse, death & alcohol abuse should be in place !

⋆ ◦ ° ☾ chris evans + cis male + he/him — have you seen jason ‘jace’ caito? they sure have been hanging out at the caito mansion a lot recently. they are a thirty-seven year old known as the wild card. they currently work for the savages as the leader, which they’ve been doing for two weeks. a bisexual gemini, they are adaptable + intelligent, as well as overly emotional + impulsive. all black suits. golden rings. expensive whiskey.  

⟨  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  / /    early life.   ⟩

jason was born on a warm morning of july, in valdez. he has a twin brother, james, and a younger sister--- his mother died after she was born ( the woman had postpartum depression, and it made her very suicidal once it went untreated. ), and his father always blamed the young girl for it. he was a drunk, and would often mistreat all of his children, specially the baby. jason & james were always there for her, though, protecting the girl and keeping her alive when their father wouldn’t. 

his twin moved away from their home when the boys were nineteen, moving to australia & leaving jason & his younger sister alone with their father. it was absolute hell for a couple of months, and jason took up drinking at the local bars, using fake ids and bribing to get into them. it was in one of those bars that he met balthazar’s then second in command. they saw potential in him, saw his anger and his desperation, and took advantage of it, offering jace and his sister a safe home if he worked as a soldier for the savages. 

after that, despite of the blood in his hands and the horrible actions that kept him awake at night, jace and his sister were safe. their father turned up dead just a couple of months after jace’s initiation, and while no one ever spoke of it, he knew the man’s death had been ordered by balthazar. 

in the years jace worked as a soldier, he caught the man’s eyes--- it started with balthazar inviting him to dine in a separate room when most of the savages ate at the mansion’s dinning room, and then expensive gifts and parties and then the travels jason had always wanted to do. by the time jason was twenty-three, he had a ring on his finger & everyone knew not to fuck with him, even if he was known as caito’s boy toy behind his back. 

ever since they got married, jace stopped actively working at the gang--- he was always beside balthazar, giving him advice and helping him overlook and take care of things, but he wasn’t openly involved with it. in fact, for the past seventeen years, jace has been more of a trophy husband than anything else; he stays at home, takes care of the mansion and the savages that live there, and sometimes waltz in balthazar’s office and gives him his two cents about where to take the gang; he knows the savages’ in and out, but stays in his corner and acts as arm candy when he’s supposed to. 

he loves his husband more than anything, and despite how boring his life has been, balthazar is good for him & his sister and he wouldn’t have it any other way. as expected, he’s completely off his rockers since balthazar died. jace was given the savages almost as an inheritance, with him being one of the few people balthazar trusted enough to leave in charge, and a lot of people are unhappy with it, unsure of they can trust balthazar’s old boy toy to lead them. jace is more than ready to prove them all wrong, once he gets his much desired revenge on the gang that took away the love of his life.

⟨  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  / /    personality.   ⟩

jason is very intelligent, but he hardly ever shows it. instead, he’d rather play dumb pretty boy all day long and leave people underestimating him than show who he really is. 

he’s always been a sweet, caring man. he took care of the savages as if they were his children, giving them anything they might need--- it often ended up with balthazar and him fighting over how jace was “spoiling his criminals”, and turning them soft. still, jace has always been out to do his damn best to make the savages a family. 

despite his momma bear nature, jace doesn’t shy away from violence when it’s necessary. he’s known for convincing balthazar into killing those who betray the savages, and has hardly ever shown mercy for anyone who fucks up, no matter how much he once cared about them. 

his violent side has been flourishing a lot since his husband’s death, and although he’s doing his best to stay clear headed, watching the love of his life die next to him broke jace on the inside, on a level much deeper than he’d ever expect, making him more of a loose cannon than he’s ever been.

⟨  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  / /    appearances.   ⟩

he’s 6′1 in height, and usually clean shaven with a buzzcut; his looks are very important to him, and looking messy or unkept has always been a big no-no for jace--- he hasn’t really shaved since balthazar’s death, however, so right now he’s got the start of a bear going on, as well as longer hair than most people have seen him with. 

jace has a couple tattoos; the savages’ mandatory lion head on the back of his neck and the red roses on his left bicep are his favorites, though. he also has some text on him, the date of his marriage over his heart & a quote from his favorite book on a straight line over his spine. 

he almost always dresses in formal-ish clothes. before balthazar jace’s wardrobe consisted mostly of sweatpants and gym shorts, but once his bank account grew, so did jason’s love of high-end fashion. nowadays he mostly wears suits, but even when he’s in casual clothing, they’re always designer. same thing with jewelry--- before coming into money jace didn’t even understand why people wore them, though nowadays his fingers are always covered in bulky gold rings, and ever since his husband’s passing, balthazar’s favorite gold chain hasn’t left his neck; jace had intended on putting bal’s wedding band on the chain so he’d have it close to his chest at all times, but on the day the man was buried he just couldn’t deal with seeing balthazar in the casket without the ring. 

⟨  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  / /    plots.   ⟩

a best friend — being balthazar’s husband was a very lonely shoe to fill--- apart from his husband & his family, most people were too afraid to be around him; not this person, however. they never cared about holding back on how they speak and act around jace, and have become his best friend over the years.

the ex --- this character would have to be on the older side; they were dating for a couple of months back when jason was in his early twenties, and he broke up with them to start a relationship with balthazar. 

the protegé --- this connection is open to multiple people, and they all must be savage members. basically, mama bear jace took them under his wing, and treated them as his kids ( no matter how much younger or older than him they are, tbh ) and has always gone above and beyond to make sure they are safe & content with their jobs, probably is always insisting for them to move into the mansion if they haven’t already.

the affair --- for thirteen years, jason was loyal to balthazar. about seven months ago, however, he found himself infatuated with this person. it hit him out of nowhere, and once he found out the feeling was mutual, jace panicked and, after a night together, he completely cut this person out. things are pretty awkward between them still, with jace barely being able to look them in the face--- specially now that his husband is dead. 

the childhood best friend — this two were attached by the hip all throughout their childhood and teenage years. they grew apart as jace devoted more time to the gang, and are now trying to light up that flame again; which creates several awkward hang out sessions and late nights of doing the weird stuff they used to do as kids.

the confidant — jason doesn’t trust a lot of people. never has, with his upbringing. this person has, somehow, broken through his walls, and is the only one he’s comfortable enough with to open up. 

the high school sweetheart --- jason has changed a lot over the years, and no one can attest more to that statement as this person. they were each other’s first real relationship, and although it’s been years since then, they still have a special place on each other’s heart. 

the enemy --- maybe jason had balthazar kill someone this person loved, maybe he just rubs them off the wrong way, maybe they don’t agree with him inheriting the savages. whatever the reason, they can’t along & are constantly at each other’s throats. 

the rebound --- jace is completely heartbroken over his husband. he also has a lot of anger & energy pent up, which leads him to this guy: they brawl, they fight, they have sex. anything to keep them from dealing with their demons. ( this connection must be a male, preferably late 20s or in his 30s ! )

the protective friend --- there’s nothing jace loves more than taking care of people. in return, no one really takes care of him. except for this person, who’s there for him when he breaks down, who kicks the mansion’s security guards in the balls and trespasses to bring him soup when he’s sick and just doesn’t fuck around when it comes to calling jace out on his bullshit. i think it would be sweet to have a cobra member fill this out, but it’s not necessary !

[professional-anti]

Chapter Ten: City of Bones

Things that have happened since the last update: I moved into my new school in a whole different country, became problematic, and read one (1) book. So I’m pretty cultured atm. Let’s do this.

Part Two: Easy is the Descent We have an unstranslated quote from the Aeneid, I guess so CC can show off how smart she is.

Chapter Ten: City of Bones Everybody freaks tf out about the fact that Jocie was Voldemort’s wife. We have an actual, real-life, total gem from Clary:

"That's impossible! My mother would never-she was only ever married to my father! She didn't have an ex-husband!”

Clary….blease…….I’m begging u……..she makes it so easy………

Hodge lists off the other death eaters. I’m not even going to pretend they’re not death eaters. There’s no reason to. Anyway, they all got in trouble after the Uprising™, except the Lightwoods got “clemency” bc they had a baby. Which is ridiculous and makes no sense. Ppl don’t just get lighter sentences bc they have babies. Hodge’s punishment is that he has to stay in this mansion in New York. I thought the Clave would be more into capital punishment, just going off how much they suck, but I guess that would just hinder the story.

Hodge reveals that Voldemort wants the cup bc it can give him an army of Shadowhunters. Isabelle comes in to say that she ordered Chinese, which raises interesting questions. Wouldn’t the ppl delivering just see a decrepit, condemned house? Did she have to order to next door and wait outside?

In the kitchen (where Simon is still staring awkwardly at Isabelle), Isabelle says that she thinks the fact that Voldie is looking for Jocie is “kind of romantic”. You know, that this vile supremacist is hunting down the woman who left him. Super romantic. Then she says the “evil thing” is “sort of hot.” No, really:

"Isabelle," said Hodge patiently, "this is the man who rained down destruction on Idris the like of which it had never seen, who set Shadowhunter against Downworlder and made the streets of the Glass City run with blood." "That's sort of hot," Isabelle argued, "that evil thing.”

At least in Harry Potter, no one thought that Voldemort was hot. In fact, everyone rightly despised him for killing innocents and preaching hatred. Bellatrix Lestrange was physically attractive, and nobody tried to argue that her actions were hot. Because they saw the terror she brought. No one would call her carving “Mudblood” into Hermione’s arm “hot”.

Oh, and even worse, after Isabelle reveals she likes murderous racists, “Simon trie[s] to look menacing”. The whole situation is just so awkward. Hodge tells them that Valentine would use the cup on children (it would kill adults) and discard the children who couldn’t handle it. Isabelle finally gets that Voldemort is bad and that water is wet. Jace is super mad that Voldemort wants to harm muggle children bc Shadowhunters are all about protecting the muggles. Never mind that Jace has shown nothing but disrespect for them the entire book.

Hodge pushed his plate away. "Valentine was insane," he said. "Brilliant, but insane. He cared about nothing but killing demons and Downworlders. Nothing but making the world pure. He would have sacrificed his own son for the cause and could not understand how anyone else would not." "He had a son?" said Alec. "I was speaking figuratively," said Hodge, reaching for his handkerchief. He used it to mop his forehead before returning it to his pocket. His hand, Clary saw, was trembling slightly.

Could Hodge be any more obvious. No, really, I’m asking. Please be more obvious Hodge. All the readers are dumb as goldfish and wouldn’t understand subtly. We need bricks in the face. This is compounded by Hodge telling them that they shouldn’t do anything to stop Voldmort, that the Ministry of Magic will handle it. Hodge is sooo not on Voldemort’s side, you guys. Never!

They decide to go to the Silent Brothers to retrieve Clary’s memories, which they think will help them save Jocie from Valentine. The Silent Brothers are Shadowhunters who destroyed their bodies with runes and now have crazy mental powers. Honestly sounds a little creepy. I’d read a book about their order, tbh. Are they all guys, though? Then I wouldn’t read it. Also, they sound like Dementors.

That night, Clary has a dream that she’s dancing with Simon in the Glass City, and then Simon turns into Jace. The Symbolism is so real. Then Jace wakes her up, holding her wrists. Apparently she tried to hit him in her sleep, but he shouldn’t have grabbed her wrists. I can think of few things more terrifying than waking up to a boy restraining my arms. Apparently, she fell asleep in a hallway the night before and Jace and Hodge let her to a bedroom. Honestly confused how she fell asleep in a hallway, but we have bigger problems to deal with.

Oh. My. God. A silent brother (I’m done with the dumb capitalization. We don’t say a Congresswoman or a Principal or a Citizen) has arrived. And his name is. His name is. BROTHER JEREMIAH.

Clary gets dressed and wishes she could look more like Isabelle. Bc girls have to judge themselves on their appearance even during everday tasks, like getting dressed. They meet BJ in the library, and he’s described like a death eater with a white color scheme, basically:

For a moment she thought he was alone in the room: that Jace had been playing a joke on her. Then she saw a figure move out of the dimness, and she realized that what she had thought was a patch of darker shadow was a man. A tall man in a heavy robe that fell from neck to foot, covering him completely. The hood of the robe was raised, hiding his face. The robe itself was the color of parchment, and the intricate runic designs along the hem and sleeves looked as if they had been inked there in drying blood. The hair rose along Clary's arms and on the back of her neck, prickling almost painfully. "This," said Hodge, "is Brother Jeremiah of the Silent City." The man came toward them, his heavy cloak swirling as he moved, and Clary realized what it was about him that was strange: He made no sound at all as he walked, not the slightest footstep. Even his cloak, which should have rustled, was silent. She would almost have wondered if he were a ghost-but no, she thought as he halted in front of them, there was a strange, sweet smell about him, like incense and blood, the smell of something living.

BJ says that he can’t get Clary’s memories bc there’s some sort of magical “block” in her head, and that she has to come to the Brotherhood HQ in order to have it removed. BJ leaves on his own, and Clary and Jace go and stand on the corner. Jace is incredibly cruel about Simon. Then a black carriage disguised as a limo pulls up, driven by BJ himself. It’s honestly cool how the carriage moves thru NY traffic and no one nottices. It’s the exact touch of “magic hidden in New York” that I like. Clary and Jace also have a conversation about poetry and music, which reveals the distance between their worlds, that I like, so maybe this carriage is magical.

Oh, here we are. Back on our bullshit. Clary looks at Jace’s ring and thinks that “there would have been something feminine about a boy wearing a ring, but there wasn’t.” Let’s deconstruct, shall we? First of all, men wear rings all the time. Secondly, we get it, Jace is super super masculine, feminity in men is Bad, Jace would never at all be feminine in any way at all bc that’s gross right? Like, I love how Clare has to specify that this ring in no way, shape, or form makes Jace at all feminine. No one would have thought it, and, also, there’s nothing wrong with femininity in anyone.

Jace says that he didn’t tell Hodge the identities of the guys Luke was talking to bc then Hodge would know that Jace wouldn’t take no for an answer re killing Valentine. He gives a pretty realistically traumatized description of his father’s death:

"I was ten," Jace said. She turned to look at him. He was without expression. It always seemed like some color drained out of him when he talked about his father. "We lived in a manor house, out in the country. My father always said it was safer away from people. I heard them coming up the drive and went to tell him. He told me to hide, so I hid. Under the stairs. I saw those men come in. They had others with them. Not men. Forsaken. They overpowered my father and cut his throat. The blood ran across the floor. It soaked my shoes. I didn't move.”

Bare bones, emotionless, disconnected. I approve. Honestly, I like the next part too. Clary shows emotion while attempting to comfort Jace, and Jace tells her that he’s not unhappy bc he has a purpose. It shows a bit about their respective upbringings.

Jace says that demons are worse than everything else (e.g. vampires and warlocks) bc the latter are part human while the former are “interdimensional parasites”. Doesn’t explain why Jace is such a dick to the other Downworlders, though. If I remember correctly, he’s going to be a total asshole to vampires at some party later on. I wouldn’t mind Jace’s disgust as much if it weren’t so confusing. The book contradicts itself so much. It’s demons he doesn’t like, no it’s all Downworlders, he’s all about protecting mundies, but actually, he hates them. It flip-flops back and forth, leaving me with little understanding of Jace’s psyche.

They end up at the Marble Cemetary and take a secret passageway under a statue into BJ and co’s lair.

You know why I think this seems so good to me? I read a little bit more of ACOMAFail last night, and this writing is so much better in comparison.

Anyway, the lair called the Silent City (so many cities), and it’s giant and underground has archways with shadowhunter ashes mixed in. Pretty cool. Clary also has a moment where she tells the brothers they have to wait for her to be ready for them to go inside her head. Showing agency, girl!

The brothers do their thing, and a bunch of memories come into Clary’s mind. Among others, there’s a box with the initials J.C. on it (Jesus Christ?) and a doorway with the name “MAGNUS BANE” over the door. When she comes to, she’s lying on the marble floor and has blood all over her arm. Not sure what she managed to cut herself on. The floor should have bruised her, not cut her. Anything for the Drama, I guess. Jace heals her with a stele. Anyway, the block can’t be removed, and they have to go find Magnus Bane. Clary and Jace leave. The end.