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the way i saw him and my mind screamed janus
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Clary when she encounters with Janus again in The Wicked Powers
I don't know if someone already made this joke but I thought about it while watching B99 and I just had to do it
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The Dark Artifices as The Office Memes
Emma:
Julian:
Mark:
Kieran:
Tiberius:
Kit:
Livia:
Drusilla:
Octavian:
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Julian: threatens people, wins battles, fights demons, dark mysterious guy, nothing touches him
Also Julian:
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SoBH confirmed to me that Julian’s type is “women that can kick his ass” and I respect that
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HADES AND PERSEPHONE Chain of Gold AU - James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs
James Herondale never wanted to be the God of the dead. Technically, he was god of the Underworld, with his right hand man Thanatos god of the dead, but no one cared about semantics.
What with James’ apparent ghastly appearance and pale skin, no one made the mistake of assuming him a living creature. No one person on the sunny side of the world had ambrosial eyes like James. No satyr, Demi-god, or even nymph had irises the color of his. More than living creatures feared his name, they feared his eyes more.
Some people, however, did not mind James’ eyes. His friend Matthew, god of sunlight and poetry, compared them to the first rays of daylight that sparks off the edge of his sun chariot. James has blushed. He did not get compliments often, especially by beings with sun-kissed skin.
He does not understand why the Olympians fear him similar to that of a mortal. After all, gods are immortal. Why should they fear appearing death?
It does not due well for James to focus on this. It’s been four thousand years, he should be over it by now.
James sits upon his throne of obsidian, pondering many things he should not think about lest he fall into a hole of despair. If that abyss could even be darker than hell itself.
Many of James’ subjects wander around, dusting off his ceiling long paintings of various things found above ground. Some of them believe James is mocking them by hanging up such photos of the world they are no longer part of, but that’s not why James do it.
James loves paintings of the sea, of sunflowers and dandelions and trees with weeping leaves. It’d been nearly a thousand years since James had been on the sunny side of things. He dared never take a step, as his yearning would cause such a fulfillment that he would no longer return to his domain.
“You should just do it.” Thanatos said, startling James.
Thanatos - or rather Jesse as he liked to be called - arched a Stygian brow. His green eyes were similar to the emeralds that adorned James’ fanciful palace ceiling.
“You spoke out loud,” Jesse supplied.
“Oh,” James said. “Well why do you think I should go above ground?”
Jesse shrugged. “You have nothing to loose. Besides, you are getting pale, my lord.”
James rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if I get sunburned I shall have Matthew run over you with his Chariot.”
James stood, his royal robes falling around his long legs. The royal black velvet swished against the marble floor. Slowly, he reached inside and took out the books he kept in the inside pockets, setting them along the arms of his throne.
Jesse arched another brow, but said nothing else. Even he knew James lived vicariously through book characters. Book characters that could live in sunlight, who could ride magnificent beasts and marry their loves without the fear of being feared. Sometimes, James wished he could carve out the godly part of himself and become more... normal. Living.
It did not take long for James to walk up to the land of the living. He past his three-headed dog Cerebus and the Elysian Fields where the heroes James read about remained.
Sunlight was a funny thing to the god of the underworld.
Wind with a hint of cherries and apples blew past James, making him scrunch up his nose. He was used to pomegranates, really.
James appeared to have landed, or rather found himself, in a meadow filled with narcissus and chrysanthemums. Their vivid colors burst against the solid green Earth. No jewel could entertain their color.
James looked up, watching as sunlight shone through the leaves, dimpling on his skin giving him spots.
James took a deep breath. Why was he here again? It was not like he had someone to meet? Maybe Matthew-
James’ thoughts stopped short when he heard a voice. A feminine voice as soft as the summer wind.
James slowly turned towards it, treading lightly on the branches that littered the ground.
On a patch of grass in the middle of the meadow was a girl. A girl wearing a summer sky blue dress adorned with pink flowers at the neckline and hemline. Her skin was dark against the pastel dress, sun kissed mixed with cinnamon. Her hair was a vibrant red, dark as a ruby. She laid on the ground with a narcissus in her hand. At her side was a gleaming gold sword, one of which she traced absent mindedly with her free fingers.
“Marriage?” She said to the flower. “Marriage to a nymph I need not know?” Disgust warmed her words.
“Who does my mother think she is?” The girl asked. “Sona, goddess of flowers and fruit and all that, I get it. But this? Marriage? I do not believe it is in her power to ask me that, not even as my mother.”
“I will not marry.” She said and raised her sword. The gleaming weapon cast sunlight spots along the ground and her skin. “Lest I shall part with you.”
“I am the goddess of spring time. I do as I please.” She said again, as though she were trying to convince herself. “Not even Alastair backed me up!” She told the sword. “He just nodded and scolded me for opposing mother. They are too alike, my mother and brother.”
She sighed and lower her sword to her chest, letting the blade rest upon her sternum. “I shall only marry who I love, but what can I do when who I love does not love me?”
“Kill them.”
The girl started and sat up, whirling to look at James. Her eyes widened and her pink mouth dropped.
He hasn’t meant to say that. But as someone with first hand experience to heart break, he could not stop his resurfacing feelings. Although he no longer loved Grace, the woman who never loved him anyway, the feelings still burned like salt that would never leave a wound.
“James?” The girl asked.
James blinked. “You recognize me?” Although he did not look on part with a living creature, she shouldn’t have been able to tell so soon and so far away.
“Of course I do,” She said and then frowned. “Do you not know me?”
James opened his mouth but nothing came out. He thought over the hundreds of thousands of faces he’d seen during his existence, but he can’t remember hers. He would remember hers.
The girl crossed her arms and looked away from James, obviously upset. “Cordelia.” She snapped, her ruby red hair blowing in the breeze.
“Right,” James said realizing. “Yona’s daughter. You specialize in...flowers.”
Cordelia looked offended. “Flowers keep this world alive, you know that? Obviously you don’t, God-of-Death.” She bit her lip but did not apologize.
James was astounded. Many did not say sentences to him. Much less an insult.
“Have we met before?” James asked, wondering what he did to receive such vehemence.
Cordelia squeaked. “Yes! Numerous times in Mount Olympus!”
James needed to change the topic. “Who are you to marry?” James asked, daring to step closer.
Cordelia blushed, her cheeks as red as her hair. James wanted to touch her hair, see if it was as warm as the day itself.
“Someone I do not even know.”
“What about the on you’re in love with?” James asked. “Why not him or her?”
Cordelia watched him for a long moment with an unreadable expression. James thought perhaps she is searching his secret worthiness.
“Doesn’t matter.” Cordelia said at last. “Why, I bet they don’t even know my name.”
James nodded, trying to feel sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sure they would like you if they knew you.”
Cordelia scowled at him. Surprising, her scowl was as pretty as her smile.
She sighed. “It matters not. My mother will force me to marry since I cannot obtain a lover myself.”
“You could marry me.” James said before he even realized her could say such words. But he had been too busy looking at the flowers that adorned her dress, at the golden sword laid beside her like a hero fallen on the Earth.
Cordelia’s eyes were wide. “Truly?” She asked in disbelief. “Why would you...”
“I do not know.” James said. “But you have spoken to me longer than anyone has in over a century, and you are the most beautiful living thing I have ever seen.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t even remember my name.”
James sucked in a breath. “To be fair, Yona never allows me anywhere near her so out of that avoidance I must have mistakenly avoided you.”
Cordelia seemed to deem this answer good enough and stood. She was almost as tall as James, but much more graceful. She strode up to him and looked him in the eyes without flinching. Suddenly, she spun around him and laced her arm through his.
“I accept your proposal.” She said, trying to feigh non-chalance. “Take me to your palace.”
James heart sped up on the verge of hope. “Will you be alright in the underworld? With no sunlight?”
Cordelia thought for a moment before shrugging. “We can work something out.” She smiled. “Do you have food down there? I am famished.”
James, understanding the vow Cordelia had made, smiled. “I believe there to be the most delicious pomegranates.”
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What if Clary dies? What if Jace becomes the antagonist of The Wicked Powers?
(Disclaimer: This is just a really off AU, which probabley won’t happen, but I wanted to write the concept anyway.)
“Jace!” Alec shouted. The sight of his parabatai struck Alec like lightning. He became aware of his heart beat and the blade in his hands.
Jace did not even turn around. His painfully familiar golden locks whipped in the rising smoke. Specks of blazing ash flew around the two of them, like pieces of descending stars.
They were not the only fallen thing, Alec knew.
“Jace,” He said again, his voice petulant. “Look at me. Please.”
Jace did, and Alec was immediately regretful of his request. Jace’s eyes had always been ambrosial. The color was part of the reason Alec had been so smitten with him during their youth. The eyes that used to hold gold like the Ichor of the Angel blood that flowed in his veins. Now, his irises were part gold, part black. They were darkened by the shadows of bright memories.
Memories were the only thing real for Jace. Alec knew that these last few years held no importance to Jace. There was just before Clary and after Clary. The boy Jace had been had burned on the pyre with Clary’s body.
“Alec.” Jace said, his mouth forming into a smirk that once might have been teasing, but now was just cruel. “Come to save my soul?”
Alec swallowed. The effect his parabatai had on him was still raw. He could not lie to Jace, even now. After all this time. “You know I have. You know I will never give up on you, my parabatai.”
“Don’t say that Alec.” Jace said, wincing.
“Why not?” Alec pleaded, taking a step forward.
“Because it’s dangerous.” Jace lifted his hands over the fire. The Heavenly Fire. His Herondale ring glinted in the light. “And stop calling me parabatai. We haven’t been parabatai in years.”
Alec felt his faded rune pulse. After Clary had been killed in Faerie, Jace had slaughtered the entire unseelie court. That act might have been considered heroic to the cohort, but to Alec and the rest of their family, it was barbaric.
There was a council meeting after the incident. The Blackthorns and Jace had to testify about what transpired in the Faerie lands. Jace described Clary’s death in a monotone. And somehow, that was worse than if he had been emotional. Horace Dearborn, the new inquisitor, had said something about Clary. Apparently, Zara Dearborn was not the only Dearborn who considered Clary a bitch.
One sentence set Jace off. A few words dropped a match into a oil soul. His face had been blank for the week he had been back, he did not say a word until that day. But then, Jace came alive in a burning rage. He called upon a seraph blade with an Archangel’s name and killed most of the council. His heavenly power, that had been restrained over the past few years, was revealed. Alec felt the flames in Jace’s blood, could feel the anger and the sorrow and despair through their bond.
After that, Jace had been exiled. They did not want to strip a former war hero of his runes, but even they could not let this act slide.
Jace did not stay in Wrangel Island for long. He left without a word of goodbye. He plotted in secrecy.
“Just because you broke our bond doesn’t mean I don’t care about you anymore. You’re my brother, Jace. I love you.”
“Stop saying that!” Jace shouted. For the first time, his calm demeanor broke. He whirled on Alec, his irises alive with fury. Hate was the only thing that seemed to keep Jace tethered to reality. “Stop loving me! Don’t you understand! Why can’t you of all people see?”
“See what Jace?” Alec asked softly.
All he was seeing was Jace standing where Sebastian once did.
Jace stood at the top of a flaming alter, between two thrones. Above him were three windows, each showing a different land scape. One showed Alicante, Idris. There was heavenly fire burning the glass towers and the forests Alec loved. Alec saw Julian Blackthorn and Emma Carstairs running through the streets, carrying blood stained blades and holding the hands of their siblings. Except one.
Alec felt horrible deja vu. Those children were living the same horror all over again. Twice in the same life time.
Kit Herondale stood a bit away from them. It must be painful for him, Alec thought, to know the only family he has left is burning down the world.
Alec saw Magnus and Izzy standing at the entrance of the Accords Hall, hoarding the children inside. Izzy’s whip was flashing through the air, slicing the heads of demons. Blue fire flew from Magnus’s finger tips, holding the vengeful survivors of the Unseelie Court off.
Magnus was looking around wildly, and with a pang, Alec knew why. Magnus was looking for him. Alec hated himself for putting Magnus in so much pain, for being the reason of the panicked expression on his face, but Alec would not change his mind. He shut his eyes, seeing a pair of gold-green cats eyes behind his eye lids. Alec thought of a baby with blue skin and a boy singing softly in Spanish.
It had to be Alec. If anyone was going to stop Jace, it would be Alec. They were parabatai. Always and forever.
‘Whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.’
Alec had followed Jace to Hell once. It was not even a question to do it again.
Alec opened his eyes. “What should I be seeing, Jace? What should I know?”
Jace’s face twisted. “To love is to destroy Alec. And I will not be destroyed again.” He unsheathed a silver blade. The Morgenstern Sword, Alec recognized. The hilt was inscribed with gray falling stars.
“You’ve become Sebastian.” Alec said. The sentence drove pain through Alec’s heart, as words usually did went they were the scorching truth, as pure as fire.
“No,” Jace said, taking a step down the marble stairs. “Sebastian hated the world because no one loved him. I hate the world because all I ever gave was love, and now I am left with nothing. I am like this because I lost what I loved. Sebastian would not be able to comprehend what I feel. He would not understand my hatred because he never lost anything. He never had anything that mattered. But I did- I had-” he stopped with a shuttering breath. “I thought I was wrong about love. But I was not. To love is to destroy.”
To love is to destroy. Jace said those words like he was praying. Alec swallowed.
“Clary would be ashamed of you.” He spat.
“Clary isn’t here. Not in hell. There is no heaven here.” Jace descended the steps.
Alec raised his sword. His hand was shaking, and the edge of the blade was bouncing around. Jace smirked at Alec’s obvious weakness.
“It’s king of ironic, isn’t it? Clary killed her brother here, and now I will kill mine. Ave Atque Vale, my parabatai.” Jace whispered.
Suddenly, he lunged forward, all golden aura and sharp blade and dead eyes that once glowed with the want to live. Alec raised his head, feeling something inside of himself break. As Jace came towards him, he saw the twelve year old boy with bruises and large eyes that said ‘Love me. Love me because nobody ever has.’
Alec lunged to meet Jace half way. A golden haired boy and a black haired boy collided like two dying stars in a universe falling apart.
Everyone knew the story of Jace Herondale. They knew him as Valentine’s son. They knew him as the last Herondale (other than Kit). They knew him as the boy with heavenly fire and angelic heritage. They knew him as the hero of the Dark War.
But no body else would know of the vulnerable boy. Nobody but Clary and Alec.
Nobody knew how easy it was for Jace to rise in goodness, and fall just as far. Well, they did now.
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TLH as out of context That 70s Show quotes
Jem when he gets to see Will for 'official Silent Brother business':
Alastair when he realized he could bully people instead of getting beaten up:
Tessa and Will to Charles when he went on that business trip and messed everything up so much that they had to go fix things for him:
Thomas and Christopher:
Charles thinking about Alastair:
Matthew to himself when he develops feelings for his parabatai's wife:
James at the train station:
Charles telling Alastair about being engaged to Grace:
Tatiana after her husband and father died:
Charles and Matthew:
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Modern day AU with the TLH characters stuck in an escape room together because of James’ poorly planned attempt to force Matthew and Alastair to learn to coexist for the sake of Cordelia (and he suspects Thomas too but isn’t totally sure what’s going on there)
James insists that they’ll have to coexist nicely if they all refuse to help until they show that they can behave civilly toward each other, but the plan backfires and instead it’s just uncanny how quickly Alastair and Matthew can cooperate to get them most of the way out, all while nonstop making digs at each other
When they get stuck James thinks maybe now they’ll at least pretend to play nice to get help, but they just bicker and glare at each other until Christopher blurts out the answer in excitement the second he figures it out and after a few more minutes and several more insults, Alastair and Matthew get them out on just as bad of terms as ever
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Emma Carstairs: "I guess Tatiana Blackthorn inspired me."
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Will and Tessa, 1880.
Just finished reading Chain of Gold and I don't know what to do with my life 💔
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i finished lord of shadows today and it was a joy (and pain.. that cliffhanger..)
do kieran’s eyebrows + eyelashes also change colour? i wonder
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Am I Forgotten?
I Have Loved You and You Haven't Known It
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Me freaks out after seeing Ty
Me: *Dies because he is wearing the Herondale necklace and a Blackthorn necklace*
Art by Cassandra Jean
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“‘Ty grew up so handsome,’ she added. ‘The girls must be all over him. Or the boys,’ she added with a sideways smile that faded quickly.” -QOAAD
inspo
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the girlies from Chain of Iron!! This started out as a doodle page and ended up as… whatever this is! Anyway I love them all to death :) Hope you all like it!!! This piece + some closeups are also on my IG @/ ladylyeart <3
characters belong to @cassandraclare thanks 4 the tears <3
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