#opposite suggen

[aluc-art]

Wb dunk

[stabbydragon]

Grace/Lucie, Lucie/Jesse, Grace & Jesse

Lucie Herondale had finally become Mrs. Blackthorn, but Grace couldn’t help wishing that that meant something else.

December 1907

“Now, everyone, give it up for Grace Blackthorn!” announced Cordelia Herondale, Lucie Blackthorn’s suggenes, before making her way back to her seat after finishing her speech at her parabatai’s wedding.

As Grace, the groom’s suggenes, made her way up, she felt as though everything was moving in slow motion. She couldn’t tell how badly she was shaking. She hoped it wasn’t too noticeable, or that if it was, everyone would assume it was from stage fright or excitement instead of the dread and heartache she was trying her best to quash.

“A toast to the groom.” She started off with something basic and traditional, hearing echoes of ‘to the groom’ all around. She glanced at her brother, who was positively beaming. Jesse Blackthorn was looking at the speaker, but Grace knew all of his thoughts were with the radiant woman sitting next to him. But Grace would not think about that. Instead, she attempted to match his joyful expression. 

“To the bride,” She did not look at Lucie, not trusting her smile to stay in place. She waited for the echoes to die down again before continuing, “from your sister who is always by your side. To your union, and the hope that you provide. May you always be satisfied.”

She could just barely hear her own voice reciting the rest of the speech she had spent hours memorizing. Internally, she was feeling her mind rewind to all those nights she spent with Lucie years before, attempting to resurrect Jesse.

I remember those nights. I just might regret those nights for the rest of my days. I remember that dreamlike candlelight like a dream that you can’t quite place, but Lucie, I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face. I have never been the same. Intelligent eyes in a beautiful frame, and when you said hi, I forgot my dang name. Set my heart aflame, every part aflame, this is not a game.

Grace had figured out pretty quickly that she and Lucie were more similar than she was comfortable with. Despite being raised in polar opposite environments, they were equal in stubbornness and had similar motives: loyalty and love for their families. She had assumed at first, due to her mother’s indoctrination, that their loyalties made them enemies, but it was exactly that which brought them together to help Jesse.

After working with Lucie for a while, Grace started noticing how adorable it was when Lucie ranted excitedly about practically any subject like nobody else Grace knew. She had a sharp mind and easily formulated plans regarding their endeavours in necromancy. She also took an interest in Grace’s life, which—besides Jesse—only James had done before. The difference between Lucie and her brother was that the former was not being manipulated and genuinely wished to help the Blackthorns. Grace would forever regret coldly shutting down all of the younger girl’s attempts to befriend her, which stopped after a few fruitless weeks. I want to take her far away from this place, but then I turn and see my brother’s face and he is helpless.

And I know he is helpless. 

And his eyes are just helpless. And I realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time. 

Number one: I’m a girl in a world in which my only job is to make a respectable marriage. My mother has no living sons so I’m the one who has to social climb for one. And Tatiana already had one planned: James. Grace wasn’t sure what her mother’s plans were, but she knew that if it dragged on long enough, she would eventually have to marry James and become Lucie’s sister-in-law. Despite this, her mother would absolutely kill her for becoming genuinely fond of a Herondale. Also, Tatiana needed Grace to have a perfect reputation which, she had heard from Charles, would have been ruined if she was known to have been involved with someone of the same sex, and Grace would have been a fool to assume that Tatiana would not have been returning to haunt her.

Number two: Lucie still had had no idea of the wickedness to which Grace had been subjecting her brother. If she had, it would have been unlikely that she still would have worked with her, even for Jesse’s sake. Grace had no right to accept her kindness while hiding what she had been doing to James, much less act as though she was worthy of Lucie’s affection.

Number three: I know my brother like I know my own mind. You will never find anyone as trusting or kind. If I tell him that I love her, he’d be silently resigned. She’d be mine. He would say I’m fine. He’d be lying.

Over time, most of those obstacles had vanished. Tatiana was dead and no longer had control over Grace’s life. Anna Lightwood, Ari Bridgestock, Alastair Carstairs, and Thomas Lightwood were fighting the stigma on same-sex relationships. Most importantly, the truth about James was out, yet Lucie genuinely still seemed to enjoy her company even when Jesse was not around to make them get along. However, by that time, it was too late for the last issue.

Jesse and Lucie had seemingly written their names on every inch of one another’s hearts. Jesse looked happier than Grace had ever seen him in her life, and his lover did as well. It was as if they were both dreaming and never wanted to wake up.

If there was one truth in the world, it was that Grace loved her brother more than anything else in the world, even Lucie. She would never wish to take away such pure happiness and romance from him for her own selfish desires. Since they were young, Jesse was always the one who got the things that he wanted while Grace was content to bask in her brother’s victory. Besides, Herondales only loved once, and Lucie had already given her heart away. There was nothing Grace could do about that if she tried.

But when I fantasize at night it’s Lucie’s eyes as I romanticize what might have been if I hadn’t sized her up so quickly. At least my dear Lucie’s his wife. At least I keep her eyes in my life.

She was so lost in her thoughts and memories that she did not notice the footsteps behind her until there was a deathly pale hand with a fresh marriage rune on her shoulder and a whisper of, “Grace” in her ear. She turned sharply to be met with a pair of familiar jade green eyes, and a beryl blue pair slightly further back. Grace looked around, only then realizing that she was standing near the wall of the Institute ballroom, holding a champagne flute, while all of the wedding guests mingled around her. How did I get here, she wondered, and how long ago did the speeches finish?

“You all right, little sister?” Jesse asked fondly, dragging her back to the present.

“Of course.” She raised her brows. “It’s the happiest day of your life. Why would anyone be anything less that euphoric?”

“You just seemed slightly troubled, is all,” he said with brotherly concern.

Of course. Tatiana had trained her to be able to perfectly mask her emotions, and she was sure she was succeeding, but this was Jesse. He had known her for thirteen years and had held her as she cried countless times in her youth. If anyone could tell when something was wrong with her, it was him.

Still, he and Lucie had just gotten married. It was far too late for her to voice her troubles now. Besides, she would never forgive herself for ruining their night.

“Well,” she sighed with a small smile, “you can hardly blame a sister for feeling protective of her brother. Besides, I know you and I haven’t dwelled in the same building in a while, and the two of you have, but now you’re officially man and wife. It’s an enormous change, and it will take some time to get used to. But I am happy for you.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she continued, recalling a piece of her speech, “about how I know that you two will always be happy so long as you have one another.” This was true, though she was not as elated as she sounded. Still, it seemed to appease the happy couple, who, on that day, were incapable of focusing on much except for their own delight. “Besides, I like this Mrs. Blackthorn much better than the old one,” she added, earning a small chuckle from the newlyweds.

“Thank you, Grace.” Lucie put her hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder and squeezed it slightly, beaming. “It means a lot.”

Grace attempted to kill off the butterflies growing restless in her stomach. She mustered up all of her energy and used it to grin and raise her champagne glass. “To the groom!” She repeated her words from earlier. “To the bride, from your sister who is always by your side. To your union, and the hope that you provide. May you always be satisfied.” And I know she’ll be happy as his bride. And I know I will never be satisfied.

[magnusbane-aleclightwood]

Jace stepped forward first, in a gear jacket printed with golden runes, and held out a hand to Alec. “I stand as suggenes to Alexander Lightwood,” he said with pride. Magnus felt about Jace the way he had felt about many Shadowhunters over the years, Fairchilds and Herondales and Carstairs and others: fondness and faint exasperation. But in moments like this, when Jace’s love for Alec shone true and untrammeled, he felt only gratitude and affection. Alec took Jace’s hand and they began to walk the pathway of light. Magnus made to follow them, warlocks having no tradition of suggenes—a companion to the altar—but Catarina stepped forward, smiling, and took his arm. “I fought our mutual green frenemy for the privilege of escorting you,” she said, indicating a fulminating Ragnor with a tilt of her head. “Come on, now—you don’t think I’d let you approach the altar alone? What if you got cold feet and ran off?” Magnus chuckled as they passed by familiar faces: Maia and Bat, Lily wearing a tipsy crown of flowers, Helen and Aline whistling and clapping. Helen had a blue band around her wrist as well as gold runes on her clothes; so did Mark. “My feet have never been warmer,” Magnus said. “They’re positively toasty.” She smiled at him. “No doubts?” They had reached the end of the lighted path. Alec stood waiting, Jace beside him on the platform. Behind them was the ocean, stretching out silvery-blue as Magnus’s magic, all the way to the horizon. Their closest friends ringed the platform—Clary with her arms full of blue and yellow flowers, Isabelle carrying Max and sniffling back tears, Simon alight and smiling, Maryse with Rafe by her side: he looked solemn, as if aware of the significance of the occasion. Jia Penhallow stood where a priest would stand in a mundane ceremony, the Codex in her hand. They had all donned shawls or light jackets of silk, runed in gold; silk banners hung suspended in the sky, printed with runes of love and faith, commitment and family. Magnus glanced down at Catarina. “No doubts,” he said. She squeezed his hand and went to stand beside Jia. There was a second ring around the platform: The Blackthorns and their friends were all there, clustered in close. Julian smiled his slow quiet smile at Magnus; Emma glowed with happiness as Magnus crossed the wooden platform and took his place opposite Alec. Alec held his hands out, and Magnus took them. He looked into Alec’s blue eyes, the precise color of his own magic, and felt a great calm descend over him, a peace beyond all other peace he had ever known. No doubts. Magnus didn’t need to search his soul. He’d searched it a thousand times, ten thousand, in the years he’d known Alec. Not because he doubted, but because it shocked him so much that he didn’t. In all his life, he had never known such surety. He had lived happily and had no regrets, he had made poetry out of wondering and wandering, had lived untethered and gloried in freedom. Then Magnus had met Alec. He had felt drawn to him in a way he couldn’t have explained or anticipated: He had wanted to see Alec smile, to see him be happy. He had watched Alec turn from a shy boy with secrets to a proud man who faced the world openly and unafraid. Alec had given him the gift of faith, a faith that Magnus was strong enough to make not just Alec happy, but a whole family happy. And in their happiness, Magnus had felt himself not just free, but surrounded by an unimaginable glory. Some might have called it the presence of God. Magnus just thought of it as Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

Queen of Air and Darkness - Magnus and Alec’s wedding scene 1

[asflowersfade]

Scribble-Doodle: Life Appears too Short

“Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs.” ― Charlotte Brontë

A what-if story set in episode 112. What if Jace and Alec didn’t make up. What if Magnus didn’t interrupt Alec’s wedding. What if Hodge still betrayed them all.

“Great. I guess I'll go. I've got work to do anyway.”

And Jace goes, he stomps out of the club, annoyed with himself for having expected… something and annoyed with Alec because of… because…

He stops and stands there, outside the club, while the echo of the main door slamming shut still vibrates in the air. He hangs his head, his shoulders slump and his heart... his heart hurts. He doesn’t know how his relationship with Alec got so messed up but if one of them doesn’t do something…

Jace turns swiftly and strides back in, intent on fixing this... 

But Alec’s already gone.

“You okay?” Clary asks in a gentle, worried tone of voice when she joins Jace in the choir loft of the festively decorated chapel.

Hidden in the shadow of a massive stone pillar, Jace shakes his head. “No. It should’ve been me down there,” he whispers and nods at the altar where his parabatai’s about to get married - with Hodge Starkweather as his suggenes.

Hesitantly, Clary reaches out to touch Jace’s back. For once, he doesn’t flinch away. “I’m sorry you two didn’t get the chance to make up before the wedding.”

With his chest clenched with regret, Jace watches as Alec and Lydia exchange wedding gifts. He doesn’t correct Clary, he doesn’t tell her about Izzy’s attempt at reconciling them.

“Yeah, well, it is what it is,” he replies, then he turns and leaves before Alec and Lydia can exchange wedding runes, too. He can’t witness it and not really be there, by Alec’s side. It would be too much.

Jace keeps himself busy in the Ops Center, he tries to ferret out any possible leads that could help them find the Book of White, the one thing that can wake Clary’s - their - mother.

He hasn’t spoken to Alec yet, he hasn’t even really seen him ever since he sneaked out of the chapel. He’s keeping himself scarce, nursing his wounded pride, but the Institute isn’t big enough for them to keep missing each other completely without a conscious effort on both of their sides, so… Fine.

When the intruder alarm starts blaring - not from the outside, nothing has breached the perimeter, it’s echoing from within the building! - Jace checks the main computer screen and sees that it’s coming from the main office, from the office of the head of the Institute.

He runs, passing confused people in the hallways, and his heart’s in his throat because he might not have spoken to Alec, he might not have seen him, but he still knows that that’s where Alec should be right now, both Alec and Lydia, because they’re headed back to Idris later this morning - with the Mortal Cup. They’re taking the relic back to the Clave under the cover of their honeymoon. No one but their closest family knows. No one!

No one should know!

Jace barges in recklessly but then he stops, he freezes only a step or two inside the room, because the office’s in shambles and there, by the fireplace opposite the door… Lydia, Lydia’s lying there in a crumpled heap and Raj’s kneeling at her side, touching her neck, and he’s looking pale, stunned.

“Raj…?” Jace asks quietly.

Raj looks up and shakes his head. “She’s dead,” he responds in a shocked voice and as he moves aside a little, Jace can see Lydia’s bloodied face, her wide-open, empty eyes.

Breath catches in Jace’s throat and he looks around quickly. “Alec…” he whispers. “Where is--?”

There, behind the couch, a hand. No! 

Jace races forward, jumping over broken pieces of furniture to get there, to get to Alec, because, yes, it’s him, Jace recognizes his blue denim shirt. And then he rounds the couch and drops to his knees next to his parabatai who’s lying on his back, with his eyes closed and his face slack…

But alive! Jace knows that, he has known that the whole the time, their bond would’ve told him if it weren’t so, but he still makes sure, he searches for Alec’s pulse and it’s steady but very slow - and then he notices the sleep rune drawn on Alec’s neck. Someone put Alec to sleep. Someone killed Lydia but not Alec.

Jace rests one hand on Alec’s cheek and hangs his head, dizzy with relief. He wants to shake Alec awake, talk to him, but he knows it would be useless, the rune magic has to run its course which means that Alec will be asleep for at least several hours yet. Still Jace needs… he needs Alec awake, he needs to hear Alec’s voice.

There’s a sound in the doorway, an exclamation of shock and horror that can be heard even over the steadily blaring intruder alarm that Raj must have set off once he found Lydia and nobody has bothered to shut down yet, and when Jace looks up, he sees Maryse and Robert standing there, and Izzy and Clary, too.

And then they all rush forward, demanding to know if Alec and Lydia are alright and what happened and, “Who did this?!”

It was Hodge, as it turns out. Something that Jace still can’t believe, thought he’s watching it all unfold on the main computer screen in the Ops Center with Maryse, Robert, Izzy and Clary at his side. Hodge did this…

Together, they watch as Alec enters the office with Hodge, they’re laughing together, and then Alec turns his back to Hodge - he trusts Hodge, Hodge’s his mentor, he gave him away at his wedding not even 24 hours ago! - and using his stele, he opens the safe holding the Cup.

And that’s when Hodge attacks. He renders Alec unconscious with a sleeper hold, then he lays Alec down on the carpeted floor - very gently, Jace notices - and draws the sleep rune on Alec’s neck to make sure that Alec doesn’t wake up and raise alarm…

But that’s when Lydia enters the room and sees them, that’s when she sees her husband unconscious on the floor, and she comes to the right conclusion. And they fight, she and Hodge, and Lydia’s good, really good, but Hodge’s a weapon’s master, he’s their martial arts expert, and he punches her hard, so hard that she flies back and hits the ground hard - hits her head against the stone rim of the fireplace…

Lydia’s not moving and Hodge… Hodge looks shocked, his face fills with horror, and he rushes forward to check on her, and his shoulders slump in regret, in grief. It’s obvious that this isn’t what he wanted.

It doesn’t stop him from stealing the Mortal Cup, though. He grabs the relic from the safe and with one last look at Alec, he runs.

The Mortal Cup’s gone - there’s little doubt where, to whom Hodge’s taking it - Alec’s lying still deeply asleep in his room and Lydia… Lydia is dead.

Raziel…

“What do you think you’re doing?” Izzy demands when she catches Jace in the weapon’s room, gearing up.

“I’m going after him,” Jace growls. “I’ll kill the traitor for what he did!”

Jace’s furious. The Mortal Cup be damned - the thing has never brought them anything but grief - but his parabatai’s wife is dead! Lydia’s dead! And despite their differences, Jace liked Lydia, he admired her conviction, her loyalty, her strength and courage! And now she’s gone.

And Alec knows now. Jace stood in the corridor outside his parabatai’s room while Maryse told Alec about what happened. Jace stood there and he wanted to go inside so badly because he could feel Alec’s pain, his grief through their bond...

But in the end, Jace didn’t go in. There’s so much they left to fester between them, so much unspoken hurt, and it shouldn’t matter in a moment like this, but the gulf between them has grown so wide and deep that Jace simply doesn’t know how to bridge it anymore.

And so Jace left. But if he can’t be there for Alec, then he’ll do something else for his parabatai - he’ll catch the man who did this!

“You think this is what Alec would want from you?” Izzy asks in disbelief. “You think this is what Alec needs from you right now? There are dozens of people out there, looking for Hodge already. One more person - even if it’s you - will not make a difference!”

“It might!” Jace snaps at her.

Izzy stares at him. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her face’s pale; she cried for her sister-in-law, mourning her death, and she cried for her brother’s pain. But now, she looks angry - angry with Jace.

Shoving Jace hard, Izzy yells in his face, “My brother doesn’t need you to play the hero, he needs you here! By the Angel, Jace!” Her voice breaks and there are tears in her eyes again, washing away her fury. “His wife just died. Alec’s falling apart and he needs you here. If you leave him now, I swear I’ll never forgive you.”

In the end, Jace doesn’t go anywhere.

Knocking quietly on the door of his parabatai’s bedroom, Jace walks in without waiting for an invitation - he knows it might never come. Alec’s standing by the window with his arms crossed over his chest and he looks… small to Jace; a man as tall and solid as Alec should never look like that.

Closing the door softly, Jace takes a few steps deeper into the room, then he stops. Alec doesn’t turn around but Jace knows his parabatai’s aware that it’s him. So he stands there and waits there for Alec to tell him, show him what he needs. Because Jace doesn’t know. They’re so out of sync that now that it’s most needed Jace simply has no idea what to do.

After a long moment of silence, Alec says hoarsely, still staring blindly out of the window, “I didn’t love her as a husband should, but I promised her I would make her dream come true. And now she’s dead. I failed her, Jace. My wife’s dead because I failed her.”

And suddenly, Jace knows exactly what he needs to do. He walks up to Alec and turning him around - Alec looks so pale, so haggard that it breaks Jace’s heart - he hugs Alec hard, he simply pulls Alec into his arms and pours all he has into their embrace, into their bond.

And he starts whispering to his parabatai and he keeps whispering even when Alec slumps in his arms and hugs him back, clinging to Jace like he’s drowning and Jace’s his lifeline. Jacer’s words are full of love and grief and apology. “You didn’t, you’ve never failed anyone, it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t, Alec, it wasn’t, you couldn’t have known, I swear, I swear…”

Slowly, they sink down to the floor because their knees buckle and give out, and Jace’s still hugging Alec tight, refusing to let go, and all their fighting, all the bad blood between them suddenly feels so meaningless to him when he feels Alec shudder and start crying silently, without making a sound.

“I’m sorry,” Jace whispers in Alec’s ear, rocking him gently, “I’m sorry and I’m here, I’m here…”

Yes, he is. Hodge can wait. Revenge can wait. The Mortal Cup and Valentine himself can damn well wait. Jace’s exactly where he needs to be right now.

[aluc-art]

This guy is fun to draw

[aluc-art]

Ueerrghhdheuf it took me a while to render this. The Hair looks a bit off but idrc 🥰 might or might not rework on it l8r idk.

Without any rendering

[aluc-art]

Aurrghehfhh

They're friends ur honor

[aluc-art]

My "FRIEND" which I ADMIRE.

[aluc-art]

Smh. He thinks he's cool.

[aluc-art]

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