#luwen dabbles in writing

[polin-erospsyche]

Would you write 20 anger for jordelia if you have time please (only if you want to)

Hello sweet anon, thank you for sending me a prompt, I took the line but I didn’t write anger, I hope you like it 😊 (I’ve also added the prompt that @revolutionarywriters gave us which was  ‘People can live for hundred years without living a minute’) 

“Let me go.” // A Jordelia One Shot 

Warning: death

Turned out Belial’s army was much bigger than anyone anticipated so they had decided to split up to fight on several fronts. James and Cordelia had fought together against Belial, just like they had that first time. The adrenaline of the fight was rushing through her, they had finally won against Belial. A big smile started to spread on her face, happiness glowing in her eyes. She was so euphoric that she did not feel right away the wound she had received while fighting Belial. She looked at James ready to share in the joy when, to her confusion, his smile slowly turned into a look of pure terror.

“Cordelia!” he shouted rushing to her side, ignoring the fatigue in his swaying legs. He reached her just when her knees went out from under her. He laid her gently on the ground and crouched next to her, fumbling for his stele, drawing healing rune upon healing runes. None of them worked, each one disappearing as soon as it had been drawn. The poison in her wound was too strong.

“Work you bloody thing! Why is it not working?” he asked in a high-pitched voice betraying his anxiety. If he couldn’t stop the bleeding now, he would not be able to save her.

“James, it’s okay.” She murmured. He looked up, ready to contradict her but what he saw stopped him. He saw no trace of fear, instead he saw courage and an absolute resolution, silently communicating to him that things were going to be alright. She seemed to be unafraid of death. She might have been insecure in social circumstances but never when it came to fighting. Always charging head-first with a solid plan, always one step ahead. After all, that was who Cordelia was, infinitely smart and brave. His Cordelia was invincible.

“No,” James said, his voice cracking, shifting his position so her head was resting in his lap “no, I’m here. You’ll be all right. You have to be. We’ll bring you home. I’ll be here with you, always, you can’t leave me, please.” He begged, rocking slowly back and forth on his heels, as slight tremors took over his body. There was so much blood. It was slowly spreading, seeping through her gear, his, the ground. James believed that no amount of scrubbing would ever cleanse this amount of blood off of the cobblestone streets of London. He felt his throat drying up, he couldn’t think clearly. He knew he should have said something or done something perhaps but he could see her life slowly draining away, and for the first time he felt what real helplessness felt like.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, tears stinging his eyes.

“Because someone had to.” Her answer rested between an affirmation and a question; her voice becoming shallower. Frowning slightly, she tried to focus through the pain, through the growing exhaustion taking over and threatening to send her in a long peaceful sleep. “Lucie, Alastair, they need to know …”

“You’ll tell them yourself.” James’ voice rose with anger, not at her but himself and the world. At the unfairness of it all. She had been standing, fighting, smiling and now she was frail and pale in his arms. It should have been him; it should have been anyone else but her. He couldn’t make himself believe it. Cordelia was the strongest person he’d ever known. She’d fought off the darkness in a way he never could. She’d saved everyone. She deserved better. But death didn’t play fair, it took, and took, and took, wrecking things and leaving an immeasurable amount of grief behind. Death was a thief and it had stolen her youth and the promises of a life yet to live.

“James you have to know it’s not your fault.” she said, reaching to cup his cheek, her touch barely there “Nor theirs, tell them, please. They have to know it was my choice, only mine.” Despite the shallowness in her voice, there was no mistaking the importance of those words. Through his tears James gave a wistful smile, of course she would be selfless even now, ever thinking about others before herself.  

“I won’t have to tell them, you’ll be able to tell them that yourself my angel.”

“James,” she said “I’ve heard once that some people can live for a hundred years without living a minute. I’ve been so, so lucky. My life has been so full of wonderful things, I’ve done and seen more things than I could ever imagine I would in a lifetime. I wanted to be loved and I was so fiercely loved by every single one of you. I wouldn’t exchange my life, no matter how short it ended up being, for anything in this world.” She stopped to take in a ragged breath, closing her eyes, when she opened them again, they were glassy “Please Jamie, tell them." But he shook his head, he couldn't agree, if he did he would have to let her go. "Jāné del-am," she said, barely loud enough "it's okay, let me go.” This time when she closed her eyes, she didn’t open them again. The only thing indicating to James that she was still here was the rise and fall of her chest.

One, two.

"Daisy?"

One, two.

"Please Daisy, open your eyes."

One. Two.

“Daisy? Daisy, Daisy say something please, open your eyes, it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, just open your eyes, say something, anything, please, please …” But there was no answer save for his ragged sobs. And then a sound escaped, a sound not quite human nor animal. A sound more guttural than any scream or howl tore out of his chest as he shared his agony with the world. He stayed a long time like this, bent over her broken, lifeless body. Until the sun began to rose, the birds began to chirp, and the streets of London began to be lively again. Later on, stories of Cordelia would be told throughout the Shadowhunter world, stories of a brave heroine sacrificing herself to save them all. Upon hearing these stories James would often think back to the last words she had said before dying. I wanted to be loved and he would reply silently, a confession the world never heard, I love you beyond words my angel, life of my heart, in this life and the next and in every life beyond that. I will love you as long as it is possible to love.

Note: Jāné del-am means the life of my heart

[polin-erospsyche]

A one-shot where Lucie and James have a chat before he goes to the Shadowhunter Acedemy 

It was late at night, the quiet and darkness reigning over the Institute gave a strangely eerie atmosphere. The moonlight was casting long, playful shadows against the laminated floor. Lucie dressed in a white linen nightgown was doing her best to tread softly towards her brother’s room so as not to wake anyone up. As she took another step the floorboard cracked loudly, the sound resonating through the walls. Lucie held her breath and stopped moving, fearing the sound might have woken up her parents. She knew that she should have been in bed, sleeping. Not creeping about in only a light linen nightgown and with no robe or slippers on. She knew that if she was caught at this time of night she would be in a world of troubles and Lucie much preferred to be on her mother’s good side. Yet, she had to talk to James. He was going to the Academy in the morning and hadn’t said or eaten much at dinner due to nervousness. She took a moment to listen for any signs of activity, hearing only her father’s faint snores she kept going. There were only five steps left between where she stood and James’ bedroom door, she took them carefully albeit quicker than before and knocked softly. No answer. Maybe James was asleep Lucie thought. She hesitated and, seeing a faint light coming through from under his door, decided to go in.  

“Go away, it’s late.” muttered James from his bed, his nose in a book. Ignoring her brother, she stepped into the room taking great care in closing the door behind her. She stepped closer to his bed and couldn’t help but smile when she realized James was re-reading A Tale of Two Cities. It was their parent's favorite book. It was the book they had pretty much shoved into both of their hands as soon as they were old enough to read. They loved it so much that she had been named after one of the main characters.

“Lucie, go back to bed, you’ll catch a cold.” said James, pushing his spectacles back up, still not looking up from his book. He had a point. They were still in summer but it had rained for the past week and there was now a chilly breeze that her nightgown did not do much to protect her from. Lucie saw a wool blanket draped over one of the armchairs in the room and bundled herself in.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” guessed James, closing his books.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner.” She replied.

“Wasn’t hungry. Please tell me you didn’t just walk all the way here, risking mother getting angry at you, just to give me your observations at dinner.” teased James.

Lucie crossed her arms, which was difficult to do without making the blanket fall of her shoulders. She cursed under her breath as she wanted to look self-assured and not as if she was wrestling with the weight of it. “You want to know what I observed? You were fidgeting. You weren’t paying attention to anything that was said at dinner, although we were talking about our favorite books and that’s one of your favorite topics of conversation.”  

“Your point is?” he huffed.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything … well almost anything, if it was something really personal, I would never dare to pry.”

“But you dare to pry now?” James asked with a sly grin.

Lucie pointed to the bed “Can I sit?”

James patted the place next to him on the bed and Lucie climbed the big bed to sit on top of the thick, deep blue, throw. She shuffled a bit to find a comfortable position facing her brother and looked at him intently, keeping her lips tightly sealed. After a moment James lost his patience and shrugged. “So, what is the grand point that you are trying to make?”

“You know what it is.” She answered, offering a warm smile.

“Luce…”

“You know that I know. You know that I know you well enough for that, that I can tell when something is wrong or bothering you.” It was James’ turn to stay silent so Lucie continued, “Why don’t you tell us? Surely you must be aware that both mother and father know.”

“I am, it’s just …” looking outside the window, he had seemingly lost his trail, so Lucie urged him on with a hand gesture “I’m the older one. I’m the mature one.” at that Lucie threw him a side-glance which James aptly ignored “I’m not supposed to be worried or unsure, on the contrary, I’m supposed to set the example. And you know how much mama and papa want me to get on well with people at the Academy and to be happy there. I ought to be self-assured and excited to go. I’m supposed to want to meet people my age and get along well with them and to make friends. I’m a Herondale, you’ve seen how popular papa is. I’m supposed to follow that.” realizing that he had started to ramble he suddenly stopped talking.

“Wow. Anything else mister I’ve got to set an example because Raziel forbids people around me realize that I am anxious about going to a place I don’t know filled with strangers, which mind you, a lot of the students are probably feeling, but you know I’m a Herondale.” Lucie said with her best imitation of James.

“I don’t sound like that!” Complained James, throwing a pillow at Lucie’s face who stifled a laugh. Catching it, she hugged it against her, resting her chin on top. “Never mind that. You have to admit, I am probably right. About the other students being as anxious as you are.” All trace of teasing had vanished from Lucie’s voice.

“Maybe. But what if they have an easier time than me? What if I don’t make any friends while I’m there? You know I am better in a library than I would ever be in a group of people. Or what if worse than that, it’s horrible? What if I am being picked on?” James said in an anxious voice, twiddling his thumbs.

Lucie kindly put her hand on top of his and said “Then, you can show them that you are a Herondale, and that no one picks on a Herondale. At least not without the whole family making them regret their choice in the first place.” They both looked at each other silently communicating something they both knew. If one of them were in trouble the family would come and help. That is how they were brought up and that is how they always worked. Lucie continued “Besides, you know mama. We might not understand everything but I think we both have started to notice what it is like for her. But she and papa both try to go above that, to pay no mind to little-minded people. So, we must learn to do the same, I think. The people who might pick on you do not know you because if they did, they would love you. Like I do. Like we all do. And if that is not enough to set your mind at ease then know that I won’t let anyone hurt you, and if anyone decided to, they’ll have to go through me first!” Lucie grinned.

James offered a meek smile at that “My brave little sister, always getting into my messes.”

“Your messes are my messes” she immediately replied. “So, you’re feeling better?”

“Maybe a little.” James shrugged.

“Good, you’ll see. Next time you come home you’ll have forgotten all about me because all you’ll want to do is be with your friends.” Lucie nudged him playfully.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He said, shaking his head “You’ll always be my sister, my Luce. And who else will tell me stories of the Beautiful Cordelia?” He added as a side note, ruffling her hair, referencing to the stories she had just begun writing.

End-note (cause I like my side-notes): I wrote another one, who would have guessed? I hope it’s okay and you somewhat enjoyed it. Thank you very much if you read the whole thing. I edited a little, not much so excuse the mistakes (also if there are weird English feel free to tell me? English is not my first language so it will help me if I am conscious of the mistakes I make, same goes for criticism, I will take kind and respectful criticism if you offer any).  

[polin-erospsyche]

Princes on Paper || Blackdale one shot

Words: ~1917

Lucie was running in the pouring rain, her dress getting heavier by the moment. She wasn’t sure when it had started raining. All she knew was that when she went into Chiswick house at Grace’s request it hadn’t and now the rain was so strong she had difficulty seeing through it. She missed a step and fell on her knees in the mud ruining her light blue skirt. She was shivering and panting, the icy rain sent a chill down to her bones. Her corset seemed to be tightening with each new breath, constricting her. Tears were running down her cheeks and getting mingled with the heavy raindrops. She willed herself to stand and to leave this wretched place but she couldn’t move, the truth of what she had to do froze her in place. The sacrifice she had to make too heavy to bear. To bring Jesse back she would need to agree to be a human host for Belial. And if she agreed who knew what would happen? Would they still be able to stop Belial from taking over this realm? Or would she be drowned in his darkness along with the rest of the world and she would be the one responsible for all the chaos? But she couldn’t go back now, not when she had gone this far. A sudden flash of lightning brought her back to reality and away from thoughts of sacrifice and necromancy. She lifted her head and through the rain made out a very faint, white, silhouette standing under the archway of the house. Jesse. Lucie stood upright, did her best to dry her tears, and slowly walked towards him. When she arrived under the archway she couldn't help but smile a little, although Jesse could have appeared in front of her in the rain he had decided to lead her somewhere shielded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this yet.” Jesse started, keeping his distance.

“Like what? A drenched rat?” Lucie asked on the defensive, trying in vain to sort herself out. It wasn’t fair that he looked so beautiful with his perfect raven black hair while she looked like a mess.

Jesse leaned against the wall, giving a mirthless smile and pointed to the place she had fallen “No. Vulnerable. Unguarded. You always speak your mind but you are also always so lively, so put together.”

“If you think that, then you do not know me as well as you would like to think.” She said, still trying to untie the tangled mess her hair had become, at some point in her run the pins that were carefully holding up her hair had come loose.

Jesse looked out at the rain forming a curtain on both sides of the archway and let out a long sigh “Maybe not. Maybe we do not know each other at all.” He then turned his head, studying her “But would you do it? Are you that kind of person, Lucie Herondale?” At that Lucie realized that he had heard her and Grace talk, he knew the price. A lump started to form in her throat, what would he think of her if she was? Would he judge her?

“Did you know the price? Were you aware? Is that why you told me not to try?” Lucie asked.

“I …” he let out another sigh, looking at his feet, his black hair falling in front of his eyes “I didn’t know all of it, but I knew some things. I knew Belial had a plan with you and I knew I was involved. I just didn’t know what it was exactly. But I could guess, it wasn’t hard really. You have control over the dead so it wouldn’t be surprising if you could raise them as well. I just never thought he’d try to take over your body. I also knew that to bring me back someone would have to pay a high price but Lucie, that’s too high a price to pay.”

“So tell me what I am supposed to do Jesse!” she cried out “Because as far as I’m concerned you’re still a ghost and you’re becoming weaker by the day and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” Jesse interjected, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer towards her.

“Yes, it is! You gave your last breath for my brother.” She subconsciously reached for the locket around her neck, the same locket he had given her to save James. “I cannot just stand by and do nothing.” Her words trembling, the tears she had tried so hard to hold back threatening to spill over.

“Lucie …” he said taking another step, for a moment he seemed to want to reach out to her before thinking better of it and keeping his hands by his side “Look at me, I am a ghost, a remnant of what I was, my life is barely worth living. Yours is barely beginning, you have a whole life ahead of you. Now compare both and think which one I would give up in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think my life is worth much if you’re not in it. I don’t want to live with the knowledge that I could have done something to change things and give you the life you deserve.” Lucie murmured, taking another step, looking into his black eyes. They were standing so close now that despite the coldness emanating from his body, she felt her face flush as a tingle of desire ran down her spine. They had been dancing around these unspoken feelings for so long and here they were, at the edge of a monumental decision, in the middle of a downpour, and so close to confessing. Tolstoy, Lucie remembered, had once said that everything that he understood, he understood because he loved. She had wondered for a long time what he could possibly have been referring to, but now she imagined that she was close to understanding as well. The world, the risks, that one amber of hope that would push her forward to defy her own limits, all because of one boy with a cocky grin.

“You shouldn’t say that.” Jesse said without backing away “I asked you once to promise me you wouldn’t help. Do you remember that Lucie?”

She gave a humorless chuckle “I remember never agreeing to such a thing. I told you once I would always owe you. This is how I start repaying you.” She set her chin high as if she was daring him to disagree.

“Even if it might be with your own life, is that worth it?” he asked

“You are worth it to me.” Another near-confession, another step closer to the brink of no-return.

“You seem so certain.” He said absent-mindedly as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“I am. My whole life, as long as I can remember I’ve always written princes on paper. They were part of a fantastical story; they were the fruit of my imagination. I never thought much about them, they had to be handsome and courageous, perfect, they had to fill in a role. I never thought I’d meet someone who could rival with my writing but I met you again and …” I think I’ve fallen for a ghost and that’s why you are worth it Lucie thought but did not dare to say out loud.

“And I’m your prince on paper?” he asked with a cheeky grin making Lucie flush.

“No.” she shook her head “You are so much more than that Jesse Blackthorn. They were never real, never touchable. I never could have written you. You are infinitely more complex than any fairy-tale princes or knights. And for that I want you to be here with me, real and touchable. I want you to be smiling and laughing with me, at me, I won’t care, as long as you’re flesh and bone and alive before me. And if that means that I have to agree to Belial’s plan then I will.”

“I want that too but who will stop him then Lucie? Me being alive and kicking won’t do much good if this world goes down in flames.”

“Then Cordelia and James and the others will find a way to help.”

“But what if they can’t Lucie?” Jesse argued, infuriating Lucie, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her, was he? “Your plan rests only on the hopes that everything goes well and in my experience, things don’t usually go well.” He had a point she thought.  

“Then we will find a way, together. I will not be going in it blind,” she tried to reassure him “we’ll have a plan, which might have to involve revealing you to the others.” She had no idea how that conversation would go but if she was to agree to be Belial’s host the others had to know so they could devise a somewhat sound plan. She would have to explain the reason why she was doing it was to help a special ghost that she had befriended when she was little, and that no one could see, and that he happened to be the son of Tatiana Blackthorn. This would then eventually lead to a discussion on her abilities and black magic and defying the Clave and …  

“Well, that guarantees to be entertaining,” Jesse said as if he could read her mind.

“Jesse,” Lucie reached out for his hand only to feel a cold empty mist, how she wished she could touch him “I’m so close to having you. I’m not giving up because I’m scared of my grandfather.”

“Well your grandfather happens to be one of the Princes of Hell, thief of realms, most people would be scared.” He pointed out.

“Yes, well, we have a legendary sword on our side. If anyone is scared it should be him.”

Jesse let out a small laugh “Just tell me this before I agree to this wildly irrational plan, is there any way for me to stop you?” he asked, honestly wondering if he could stop her.

“No, you can’t and I wouldn’t suggest you to try, you’d find yourself failing miserably.” She replied, smiling.

“Alright,” Jesse sighed “but just to be clear, I still think it is one of the worst decisions I’ve ever seen you make.”

“I never said it was a smart one.” Lucie grinned knowing that they would be alright. They would bring Jesse back and they would win against Belial. It would be hard and dangerous but they would do it together. They stood next to each other for a long time looking out at the rain and contemplating the potential impact their decision would lead to. After a while, a comfortable silence began to settle.

“You know, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I’ve ruined your expectations of boys.” Jesse said with amusement, gazing at Lucie.

“You can ruin my expectations any day.” Lucie assured him with a wink while laughing. And as the blue sky slowly replaced the punishing rain Lucie’s heart felt in equal measures happiness and dread over what was coming their way.

End-note: One day I won’t put end-note anymore but here I just wanted give this to a few people who, unknowingly maybe, made sure that this got written, first @jesseblackthorns thanks for making me love Blackdale so much, this literally would not exist if you hadn’t been so enthusiastic, second @adrearner without your playlist this fic would have been very different so thank you for sharing even if you think your music taste is a mess, I like it! And last but not least @purplebass thanks for listening to me rant about writing, also thank you for helping me and not let this go into my archives

[polin-erospsyche]

I've read some of your fics and they were great, are you working on something now? If so, could you give us a hint please

Hello lovely anon! Funny thing is I told myself to get a day off and I still ended up writing ooops 🤭 so yes to answer your question I am working on something, it’s angsty, it’s in a ballroom and Lucie is wearing a scandalous red dress 😉