#max and Izzy

[livsoulsecrets]

Part 2 of my “I’m losing my mind about the Lightwood siblings” breakdown while I read City of Heavenly Fire again:

-

“Jace thought of the wooden soldier he’d given to Max, and closed his eyes in sudden pain.”

-

“It’s good to have people worry about you,” said Alec. “It means they care. It’s how you know they’re good friends.”

Emma’s gaze went from Alec to Jace, curious. “Do you worry about him?” she asked Alec, surprising a laugh out of him.

“All the time,” he said. “Jace could get himself killed putting his pants on in the morning. Being his parabatai is a full-time job.”

-

“I like her,” Isabelle said finally. “She kind of reminds me of Jace when he was little, and stubborn, and acted like he was immortal.”

-

“Go without me, and you disrespect our parabatai oaths, you disrespect me as a Shadowhunter, and you disrespect the fact that this is my battle too.”

“Jace looked shocked. “Alec, I would never disrespect our oaths. You’re one of the best Shadowhunters I know—”

“Which is why we come with you,” said Isabelle. “You need us. You need Alec and me to back you up the way we always have.”

-

“And how old are you?” Isabelle said.

“Nine,” said Max. “I’ve always been nine.”

Isabelle stared. The kitchen around her was wavering. She could see through it, as if she were staring through printed fabric: everything going transparent, as mutable as water.

“Baby,” she whispered. “My Max, my baby brother, please, please stay.”

“I’ll always be nine,” he said, and touched her face.”

-

“She knew Jace hated it when Alec was angry at him. She wasn’t sure if he could feel the discord through the parabatai bond or if it was just ordinary empathy, or a little of both.”

-

“I just wanted to say that you don’t always have to be all right. I asked you to be my parabatai because I needed you, but you’re allowed to need me, too. This”—he indicated his own parabatai rune—“means you are the better, other half of me, and I care about you more than I care about myself. Remember that. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much you were hurting. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now.”

Alec was very still for a moment, barely breathing. Then, to Jace’s surprise, he reached out and ruffled Jace’s hair, the way an older brother might ruffle his younger sibling’s hair. His smile was cautious, but it was full of real affection. “Thanks for seeing me,” he said, and walked off down the tunnel.”

[nicostiel]

OFMD S2 + text posts

[amrubrum]

in another universe jonathan and clary would have been spoiled, rich old money shadowhunter kids who lived next door to stephen and celine herondale as they raised an equally spoiled and sassy jace. they would’ve been with the lightwoods too. they all would attend idris academy and had the best times messing around with each other. oh what could’ve been

[cece693]

more alec lightwood fics pls. 🤤🤤 there are barely fics about him 😐

STAKING HIS CLAIM

pairing: alec lightwood x male reader synopsis: You and Alec had been together for three years, and while you understood his fear of coming out, you still felt like a dirty little secret. Overhearing Maryse making plans of arranging a marriage between Alec and Lydia Branwell, you had enough. It was time to see if Alec would claim you, and what better way than to incite jealousy.

The Institute was always cold.

Not physically—though the stone corridors didn’t exactly invite barefoot strolls—but in the way secrets were kept pressed under polished boots and behind tight-lipped smiles. You had been Alec Lightwood’s secret for three years now.

Three years of stolen glances in the training room. Three years of his hands in your hair under the shadow of library archways. Three years of sneaking back into your own quarters before the morning patrol began, your lips still tingling from goodbye kisses he never acknowledged in daylight.

At first, you understood. The Lightwood name was a pillar of Nephilim society. Alec carried its weight like an iron pauldron. You’d been proud of him for it.

But pride doesn't keep a heart warm forever.

You weren’t even meant to hear it. You were only coming back from a short demon patrol, blood crusted beneath your nails, when you passed the drawing room and heard Maryse’s voice—clipped and pleased. “Lydia Branwell is strong, respectable, and already a high-ranking Clave member. If you agree to it, I’ll begin arranging your courtship before the year ends.”

A pause.

No objection from Alec. Just silence.

Like you were nothing.

Like you hadn’t spent the night before tangled with him in a tangle of whispered I miss you's and promises he never seemed ready to keep in public.

That evening, you found yourself at Magnus' door, shoulders heavy with things you hadn’t said aloud. “Darling,” Magnus said with his usual flourish, but stopped short at your expression. “Tell me which person to smite.”

You managed a weak smile. “Do you have a few minutes?”

Magnus, despite the glitter and sarcasm, could be serious when needed. He listened. Patiently. A glass of something spiced and golden placed in your hand while you spoke—about years of hiding, about overheard conversations, about Alec always almost choosing you but never really doing it.

When you finished, Magnus studied you for a beat, swirling his glass in one hand. “He hasn’t even mentioned you to them?”

You shook your head.

“Darling, I’m offended for you.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t care,” you said quickly. “He does. I know he does. I just…I feel like a ghost. Like I only exist when the lights are off and his parents are far away.”

Magnus’s cat-eyes soften. “I’ve seen many Nephilim go through that path: choosing convenience over someone they love. It starts with silence. Then comes the excuses. And before you know it, you’re a footnote in their glory.” His eyes sparkled—not with magic, but something sharper. “You are no one’s footnote.”

You looked down at your drink, the amber liquid catching lamplight like it might hold an answer. “I kept waiting for the moment he’d say something. Anything. I don't need fireworks or a dramatic reveal—I just want to exist in his world the way he lives in mine.”

Magnus rose gracefully and crossed to you, placing one bejeweled hand over yours. “You’re asking for dignity, not decoration. That’s not too much.” He tilted his head, lips curving into the beginnings of an idea. “What you need,” he murmured, “is a touch of theatre.”

You blinked. “Magnus—”

“No, no—hear me out. Alexander is terrified of losing control, but jealousy? That, my dear, is instinct. It bypasses pride. Bypasses fear.” He grinned with dazzling charm. “Let’s remind him how many others see your worth.”

You eyed him warily. “So what, you’re going to pretend to seduce me?”

“Oh, I won’t pretend, darling. I’ll simply act as if I see you the way he should. Head over heels. Devoted. Hands-on.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer I summon a minor chaos demon to break his door instead.”

You snorted into your drink. “This sounds petty.”

“It is petty,” Magnus agreed cheerfully. “It’s also effective.”

You hesitated, thinking of Alec’s tense smiles, his glance over his shoulder before touching your hand in the shadows. You thought of Lydia Branwell arriving soon. A marriage alliance. A clean, bloodline-approved future.

And then you thought of how you hadn’t been invited to that conversation.

You set your glass down. “Fine. But I’m not throwing myself at you.”

Magnus smirked. “Perish the thought. You’ll be a vision of effortless charm. I’ll do the throwing.”

True to form, Magnus went big.

When the Institute had a welcoming party for Lydia Branwell, you invited Magnus as your plus one—a last-minute addition to the guest list that had Maryse raising a finely plucked brow and muttering something about protocol. But by the time Magnus stepped through the main doors in a coat of enchanted obsidian that shimmered like liquid night, no one dared question his presence.

He was breathtaking.

You barely had time to blink before Magnus’s arm slid around your waist, his rings cool through the fabric of your suit. “Smile, darling,” he whispered, voice honey-slick and wicked. The ballroom was carved from old stone and older expectations. Nephilim mingled in polished armor, Lydia stood tall near the head table, all sharp poise and golden runes, and Alec—he stood beside her, form stiff as his eyes watched you and Magnus across the room.

“I could spin you around the dance floor,” Magnus murmured, fingers brushing your collarbone in mock affection, “or I could just keep you right here and murmur scandal into your ear. Which do you prefer?”

“That depends,” you replied, voice low. “How much do you want to make him sweat?”

Magnus grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary—and then wore the feathers as a brooch. He leaned in close, lips nearly brushing your ear. “You’re positively devilish when you’re heartbroken.”

A few more steps. Alec’s gaze burned now, pinned to where Magnus’s hand traced lazy, lingering shapes at your hip. Isabelle had caught on, her eyes darting between you and her brother and Jace’s brows lifted, as if he'd just realized the plot twist of the evening.

You and Magnus stopped near the drinks table, and he, ever the dramatist, conjured two flutes of champagne with a snap of his fingers. The magic cracked softly in the air—harmless, elegant, noticed.

Alec moved.

Fast.

He all but stormed across the room, his face a sculpted mask of calm only someone who knew him could see right through. Magnus saw it too—his smile widened just enough to expose the trap Alec was marching into. “A word.”

“Of course,” Magnus replied, offering him an exaggerated bow. “Though you’ll have to be specific. Who do you want a word with?”

Alec’s eyes flicked to you, jaw tense. “Him.”

Magnus glanced your way, then to Alec, then back again. “Oh dear. Have I made a mess?” he asked lightly, before pressing a swift, not-quite-innocent kiss to your cheek. “Be gentle with him, Alexander. He’s rather fond of you.”

Alec didn’t even respond. His hand closed gently—but firmly—around your wrist, guiding you toward the archway that led to a quieter hall. You followed.

As if you had a choice.

The moment you were out of sight, Alec rounded on you, tension brimming in every line of his body. “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, voice low but furious.

You didn’t flinch. “Enjoying the party. Magnus makes excellent company when I can't bring my secret boyfriend as my plus one,” you replied, arms folding. “Especially when their mother’s matchmaking them with Lydia Branwell.”

His expression twisted. “I didn’t ask for that.”

“No,” you said quietly. “But you didn’t stop it either.”

Alec looked away. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you shot back. “Either I’m someone you’re proud to stand next to or I’m someone you kiss in the dark and hope your parents never find out about. And I’m done pretending one is enough.”

Silence stretched. Alec opened his mouth, then shut it, and for the first time, he looked afraid. Not of you—but of what this meant.

“I saw you,” he said suddenly. “The way he looked at you. Touched you. And all I could think was—he knows what he has. He gets to show it.” Alec’s voice cracked, raw and unguarded. “I want that too. I want that with you.”

You inhaled slowly, heart thrumming. “Then take it.”

Alec stepped forward and, in a rare moment of impulsive honesty, cupped your face with both hands and kissed you. Hard. Fierce. Desperate. As if he could rewrite the years of silence with just this one act. And when you pulled back, the door creaked—Isabelle stood there, arms crossed, lips twitching upward.

“Took you long enough,” she said, then tossed a wink your way. “Also, Magnus won the pool. I owe him fifty bucks.”

From somewhere down the hall, Magnus’s laughter echoed faintly like bells in velvet dusk. And this time, when you stepped out into the ballroom, Alec Lightwood’s hand was in yours. In front of everyone.

[kasirose]

Happy Birthday Alec Lightwood! Our salt king, consul of the clave, and all around best shadowhunter!

Here he is surrounded by some things that I felt represented him :)

Character by @cassandraclare

[witchlingcirce]

I think one of the subtler crueler things Sebastian has done is him saying to Izzy “Out of all of them,” he said again, in the same low voice, “I thought you were the most like me.” And the fact he killed max right after.

Imagine your Izzy, the person you’ve been sharing a house with abruptly knocks you out and than you wake up, probably remembering the last words he spoke to you and than finding out he killed your brother???

[clemm00n]

(I know I say it a bit too late But !)

The death of Izzy wasn’t a bury your gay. The cancel of the show was.

(psst, tell me if you agree)

[hazeofhearts]

emergency news

[bakedbananners]

pnat doodles since i've been rereading =^-^=

[fraudulent-cheese]

Alot of violence in- hey was that a wild dramarama screenshot?

[dayque]

Although I love the Shadowhunter characters, I can't forget their social context. I don't expect them to be perfect parents, perfect couples or perfect characters just because I love them, I think they have strengths and weaknesses (like Alec, who learns quickly but has been raised in a colonial world and must learn day by day not to replicate that violence, Julian used to lying rather than trying to dialogue because that was his only solution as a child or Tessa, who escaped from her family because she wanted to avoid the pain of loss).

Idealizing characters in a book series, that is precisely about learning to grow and accepting our past mistakes to learn from them, is forgetting the entire meaning of the books.

I think Robert is the best example of this. When he was young he made a lot of mistakes, he married a woman even though he didn't love her, he was strict with his children and lost their trust, he insulted his best friend for something he couldn't change about himself and it was nothing wrong. But over time he learned, apologized, was a better father, got divorced and reconciled with his emotions for Michael.

Jace probably has to fight not to be a controlling father and Clary has trust issues with her children and friends, Alec doesn't know how to have a non-white family, much less one of Downwolders, and Izzy can't trust her own partner. Emma spent years following a murderer who sat at her table, Julian dangerously borders on sociopathy, Ty LITERALLY got into playing necromancer, and Dru and Helen feel like strangers in their own home.

But they will learn, because that's what shadowhunters is all about.

It's okay not to know everything today.

@cassandrajean draws

[bananacakepie]

If Blackthorns can be famous for their looks (blue-green eyes, brown hair), so can Lightwoods. I headcanon that the Lightwood family is famous for being tall.

When Max and Rafe are younger and short, Izzy always talks about how they're going to grow up to be so tall, because all Lightwoods are. Everyone laughs at it, and then are extremely shocked when Izzy's early announcements turn out to be correct. 

[sir-ballister-boldheart]

[derekstilinski]

ouizzy medieval au....

[doclocked]

I thought Izzy had some definite tlk Scar vibes

[lurafita]

(pretend the shadow world is more merged with the mundane world for this one)

Picture this: Max away at college, skyping his family.

Alec: Hi Max. Enjoying college life?

Max: It's okay. Not crazy about doing my own laundry though. Oh, hi Jace!

Alec, shocked, turning around: Jace?! When did you get here?

Jace: Came in with Izzy. Hi Max. Alec? You got jam? Clary told me to get jam.

Alec: What? When did Izzy get in? And I'm pretty sure Clary meant for you to go to the supermarket and buy some.

Jace: Semantics. I'll check in your fridge. Bye Max, don't break too many hearts at uni!

Max: Bye Jace! Oh, hi Maia!

Alec, shocked again: Maia? What?

Maia: Hi Max, how are you doing? Met any cute girls or guys yet?

Alec: Maia, why are you here?

Maia: Oh, I'm looking for Izzy. Have you seen her?

Max: She came in with Jace. You should ask him. He is in the kitchen. Also, no one interesting yet, but there is a frat party next weekend.

Maia: Thanks Max. Have fun at the party.

Alec: ... Will there be drinking at that party?

Max: Broooo, come oooon. I'm old enough.

Catarina: Not in this state.

Alec, shocked again: Catarina! Where did you come from?

Catarina: ... I've been here for three hours, Alec.

Max: Hi Cat!

Catarina: Hi Max. No drinking.

Max: Okay.

Alec: Why haven't I noticed you for the last three hours?

Magnus, walking into the living room: Because you tend to be not very observent when off the clock. Hello Maxwell. Doing good?

Max: Hi Magnus! Doing great! Catarina said I can't drink, though.

Magnus: Well, don't tell her when you get drunk then.

Alec: When did our house become everyone's hangout place?

Max: Bout a year before I went off to college. Magnus is right. You tend to get kinda oblivious when you aren't at work. ... Is that a new cat?

Alec: Yeah, we have another cat now. I would tell you how that happened, but I honestly don't know. Her name is Princess Bubblegum.

Max: ...Magnus name her?

Alec: Raphael, actually.

Jace, from the kitchen: Simon! Give the jam back! I called dibs!

Then Max sees Simon running behind Alec through the living room, glass of jam clutched to his chest. Just moments later, Jace runs after him.