#josiah wayland

[rhiannons-bird]

tsc is actually just about fighting evil old men (most of whom are also terrible fathers)

[brothersnackariahsbitch]

Cecily: Will, why are you trying to appear as a ghost? You’ve never done that before.

Will: Because my descendant doesn’t know he’s a Herondale.

Cecily: Don’t you think you’re overreacting?

Will: They gave him the last name Wayland.

Cecily: ….

Will: As in claiming he’s related to that bastard Josiah Wayland.

Cecily: Alright, let’s go haunt some bitches until they know he’s a Herondale.

[layla-carstairs]

josiah wayland pisses me off like stfu

[julianspancakes]

“You must trust my judgment, and the Law’s. Protecting the Lightwood boys is not a higher priority than discovering Mortmain’s whereabouts, Charlotte. You are not running the Clave. You are part of the Enclave, and you will report to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Consul,” Charlotte said as Sophie reentered the room with a packet of papers, which she silently offered to the Consul. “The next time one of our esteemed members turns into a worm and eats another esteemed member, we will inform you immediately.”

— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

[virgils-thundercloud]

1800’s

Charlotte, Tessa, and other minorities: Hey Consul, can you listen to this information we have about rogue Shadowhunters? It could save literally the whole world

Consul Wayland: Absolutely not. How dare you. Learn your place

2012-

Random downworlders and stray lgbt+ kids in crisis: Hey Consul a Nephilim was mean to me

Alec: lol wig okay I’m on it

[aratilightwood]

TSC villains/minor dislikable characters and mundane jobs they would have.

Inspired by @tsc-living’s post on ‘TSC characters and mundane jobs they would have.’

...

Axel Mortmain: owner of a cotton factory, although he’s being sued for negligence. Employees were pressured into working long hours, and endured many injuries.

(Mortmain starts scheming to win the lawsuits).

The dark sisters: spiritual advisors who help people contact their deceased loved ones.

(Majority of the time, they make little progress, and work mostly for the money).

Benedict Lightwood: qualified as a family counsellor, which is ironic, considering his own, dysfunctional family dynamic.

(He tries to encourage his sons to pursue the same career, even though they don’t want to).

Nathaniel Gray: works as a travel agent, after unsuccessfully cheating young men out of their own money in a betting branch.

(He hates answering phone calls).

Alexei De Quincey: an events manager, although he spend most of the weekend hosting book clubs. These clubs are often mistaken as wild parties instead.

(De Quincy secretly enjoys the ‘My little pony’ book collection).

Camille Belcourt: a fashion designer who aspires to be like Miranda Priestly from ‘The devil wears Prada,’ until someone younger and more beautiful comes along.

(She still attends business events and runway shows, even though she’s no longer in the public eye).

Josiah Wayland: the principal of a primary school, whose teaching resembles that of Miss Trunchbull’s from ‘Matilda.’

(He has his own obsession with chocolate cake).

Aloysius Starkweather: an old, History Professor at a university. He marks essays incorrectly and hates his job.

(He receives many letters from the Dean, suggesting that he should retire).

Tatiana Blackthorn: the founder of a dating website, who’s intent on finding a suitable partner for everyone.

(She reminds everyone of the matchmaker from ‘Mulan,’ because she’s just as intimidating).

Hodge Starkweather: hired as a hacker for corrupt businesses, but he gets caught and the jury releases him on parole.

(Hodge now does community service and wonders where life has led him).

Valentine Morgenstern: reluctantly works as a bank manager after the little success he gets from promoting his men’s clothing line.

(Valentine’s biggest competitor is Magnus and his ‘Bane collection’).

Victor Aldertree: a police officer who’s obsessed with eating doughnuts, and purposely prosecutes people even though they’re innocent.

(He gets mad when the dessert store runs out of doughnuts).

Sebastian Morgenstern: tries to make money from dirty, street fighting, but keeps getting his ass kicked. He now lives in France and works as a Barista at a French Cafe.

(Sebastian often burns the croissants and gets less tips).

Malcolm Fade: a poet, who enjoys the works of Edgar Allen Poe. Although, his obsession with one particular female lands him a restraining order.

(He continues writing bad poetry in the miserable confines of his home).

Annabel Blackthorn: a waitress at a ‘fish and chips’ shop in Cornwall, by the sea. She works on a full time average wage.

(Annabel comes home to dozens of posted, hand-written letters from a certain Mr Fade).

Barnabas Hale: a guard working in a museum. He’s very unfriendly and reluctant to let people in, without a thorough stop and search.

(Barnabas retires very early, and spends majority of the time yelling at children who innocently walk across his yard).

Anselm Nightshade: owner of different restaurant chains, and considers himself an entrepreneur.

(He is sometimes accused of using expired products in his ingredients).

Zara Dearborn: self-proclaimed author who writes about all the ‘achievements’ she’s accomplished in life, including charity work.

(Zara pulls a ‘Gilderoy Lockhart’ on everyone, and is now sued on the grounds of taking credit for what someone else did).

Horace Dearborn: sits as judge in a high criminal court, although he passes a lot of injustice and is planning to retire soon.

(Wearing the cap on top of his head, gives him an itchy scalp).

Manuel Villalobos: a personal assistant to a business tycoon, who tries to work his way up the social ladder by kissing ass.

(Manuel will do anything, including screwing people over, to get to the top).

[lizziestudieshistory]

So I'm three quarters of the way through Clockwork Princess... and is there anybody vaguely competent in the Clave? Like is there a single authority figure in the Shadowhunters government that isn't corrupt, idiotic, or both?

The Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices have featured imbecilic people running the Clave (looking at Josiah Wayland in particular!) Like there's blindingly obvious problems and easy solutions but the Consul usually does a good impression of a child sitting in the corner with their fingers in their ears screeching 'la la la', in an attempt to be Machiavellian...

Just thinking maybe the Clave needs to work out it's issues... Or Cassandra Clare should write a more convincing poor government system.

[art-for-another-world]

Set of ID emojis

[icycoolslushie]

THG Thomastair AU

“I wish we could find sanctuary,” Thomas said. “You know, with shelter and such.”

“But Thomas,” Alastair said, “you are my sanctuary.”

TW/CW: If you're reading this, you've probably read The Hunger Games books or watched the movies so this has the same stuff as in them!

Idea // OG post // Ask

Disclaimers: This has headcanons along with snippets. Hopefully it's not OOC. Any Persian is what my Iranian friend told me. I like to headcanon that all the districts have their own language. Warning: The plot might be non-existent. Also, if you see any kind of mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! Kinda long :)

Thomas is from District 7

Alastair is from District 11

The president is Josiah Wayland

The Head Gamemaker is Maurice Bridgestock

Eugenia is part of a group to overthrow the Capitol

Barbara and Oliver died in a previous Hunger Games

It was like it was in the books

Alastair used to be in a relationship with Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, Charlotte Fairchild

Risa is Sona’s sister so Alastair’s aunt

Alastair volunteers for Cordelia

Cordelia struggles with him and finally says in “I love you” in Persian (dooset daram) before Alastair goes on the train

Cordelia is like Prim

Alastair’s mentor is Ragnor Fell

They be sassy together

Thomas’s mentor is Charlotte

Alastair’s stylist tells him Alastair should dye his hair back to black

In the opening ceremony, Thomas dresses as a tree and Alastair thinks how Thomas makes “a boring costume look beautiful”

Alastair has a suit on with leaves embroidered on it which Thomas later tells him “it was like nature blessed you”

Jem may or may not be an Avox Jem is Alastair’s Avox

Thomas Tanner is Thomas’s Avox

For training Alastair throws spears and pulls a 8

Thomas uses a broadsword in training and pulls an 8 as well

Thomas gets a compass rose tattoo from his stylist for the interview

The arena has a structure that looks like the Eiffel Tower at one end

The arena is covered in forests, except for the Cornucopia

When the canon sounds, Alastair runs toward the Cornucopia and escapes with a dagger to the forest

Thomas runs straight (ha!) into the forest

9 children die in the initial bloodbath

Alastair and Thomas both spend the night in trees about ten minutes away from each other

In the morning, Alastair hears rustling and eventually confronts Thomas

They first try to kill each other, but then they hear someone else and work together to fight the District 9 male tribute

Alastair puts his dagger at the tribute’s throat and stabs him there

Alastair doesn’t want to partner up and vice versa

“Alastair—I think you’d be a great person to team up with, but I . . . I don’t want to team up with you. I don’t want to team up with anyone. We—we might survive till the end, and then—” “No, Thomas, I understand. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll go our separate ways.” Thomas nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Part of him had been hoping Alastair would disagree with him, even when it was reasonable. He ignored it and set about laying the food they’d gathered.

But they gather food and decide they’ll have a meal together and then go their separate ways

They make a meal of some fruits they find on trees and on the ground

Thomas just cannot eat the celery

They part ways

By the second night, fourteen people in total are dead

Thomas goes to the Eiffel Tower structure the next day

He climbs onto the first level and greets Alastair

Alastair’s leg is wounded

Alastair explains that the Careers fought him

The Careers include Augustus Pounceby and Clive Cartwright

“Tell me. Tell me who hurt you. I’ll kill them.” Alastair had never seen anyone so angry on his behalf that it unnerved him. “It doesn’t matter, it was the Capitol—” “Don’t,” Thomas said quietly. “Don’t try to downplay it. I want to make them pay.” Alastair paused. After a minute he said, “It was the Careers. The District 1 and 2 tribute. Augustus and Clive. They climbed onto here and started fighting me. I gave Augustus a good cut on the arm and Clive a nice scar on his cheek but they overpowered me. Augustus stabbed my leg. They left laughing.” “They didn’t finish you off?” Alastair shook his head. “I think they . . . wanted me to suffer. It isn’t like I can go anywhere, and I have no allies, so probably wanted to come back tomorrow and then finish me off. But it’s not like I’m going to last that long.” The last sentence caught Thomas off guard. “What?” “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Thomas thought about the District 1 tribute, Augustus, who had been saying that Barbara was weak before the Opening Ceremony. That Barbara, who had gotten him out of a scuffle with a Peacekeeper, was weak. That Barbara, who had volunteered for her cousin in the Reaping, was weak. He thought about the hate he had felt for the Career. Then he thought about graceful, elegant, bleeding Alastair in front of him, the way he had hugged his sister, the way he guarded himself, and decided. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Thomas bandages Alastair’s wound

“Alastair, you’re hurt. Please let me wrap your leg in leaves and vines.” “Thomas, you don’t understand. I’ve always bandaged my own wounds. It’s not going to change now.” “Sometimes,” Thomas said, “it’s better to let others take care of you. They do a better job than you realize. Alastair, please. You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Alastair saw something in Thomas’s eyes: truth. He thought back to how many people would want to help him: his father, his mother, his aunt Risa . . . when he was young. As he grew up, all of them faced the same cruel system and all of them were expected to take care of their own wounds. Now, here was someone willing to help him when he should be killing him. It gave Alastair such a feeling of care and belonging that he nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone take care of him for once.

They eventually decide to team up

Thomas makes a meal out of things he finds in the forest

He and Alastair eat it

Alastair heals from his wound

By that night, nineteen people are dead

Augustus, Clive, and the District 8 female tribute are still alive along with them

Alastair takes first watch during the night, Thomas takes the second

Alastair gently moved his fingers across the compass rose tattoo that Thomas had gotten from his stylist. He felt Thomas’s pulse. He promised himself that that pulse would go on even when his own didn’t.

The next day Alastair and Thomas set off (Alastair’s leg is healed)

Augustus and Clive are waiting for them

Thomas kills Augustus, attacking with A LOT of force

Clive gets a good hit on Thomas with a sword on his left arm

Alastair and Clive fight, Clive flees finally while he’s bleeding from a dozen cuts

Alastair bandages Thomas’s wound with leaves and vines

“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” “Thomas—Thomas, you’ve lost too much blood. You’re going delirious.” Thomas sighed softly. “I would go delirious if that meant I could hear you say my name one more time.”

They get a sponsor gift: a whole meal of steak and sides, which they finish that day

When Alastair bites into an apple, Thomas wants to kiss him

Both of them fall asleep at night

When they wake up, they’re in a prison; a Capitol prison

They were in prison. But even if they were in hell, Alastair wouldn’t have minded. They were together.

They lie in each other’s arms, seeking warmth

“Why are we in prison? What did we do?” Alastair demanded, getting up as Josiah Wayland stuck his ugly face in front of the bars. President Wayland’s lip curled. “It isn’t you that did something, it’s your family.” Thomas gasped sharply. “Eugenia.” The president smiled cruelly. “So you do know her crime.” Thomas swallowed. Alastair put his hand in Thomas’s. “What did my family do?” Alastair asked, trying to change the topic. “Why, your sister did the same thing,” Josiah Wayland said. This time Alastair gave a sharp gasp. Thomas squeezed his hand, and Alastair drew a bit of comfort from him. But his mind was on Cordelia, his little sister, what would happen to her— Wayland, the monster he was, smiled wider as he saw Alastair and Thomas despairing their sisters’ fate.

Cordelia joined the same rebel group Eugenia was in

“But why are we here? What did they do that you had to take us out of the Games?” Thomas demanded when he had finally calmed down. It seemed that all the Lightwood siblings would all die in their youth. “As soon as they are in our custody, they will be executed. In front of you two. Everyone thinks the two of you killed each other. After they’re dead, both of you will be executed.” Thomas swallowed. “Why? Why will you execute us?” “Your sisters should have thought about your safety before they did what they did. At least you’ll be able to tell them goodbye. If the executioners give you the chance,” President Wayland added before he gave another cruel smile and left.

Thomas and Alastair despair over their and their sisters’ fates

“We’ll fight them. I don’t care. We’ll fight the Capitol. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Barbara and Oliver and Jem and Will and Tessa and my mom and every single person they hurt. We’ll make them pay, Alastair.”

Thomas sighed. “If only we had hope.” “I don’t think about hope, Thomas. I think about you. You’re my hope.” And now I’m going to lose you, Alastair wanted to add, but he didn’t. And then I won’t have any hope left.

“The odds were never in our favour, Thomas,” Alastair whispered, closing his eyes. Then he added softly, “And they never will be.”

Letter addressed to Alastair Carstairs, District 11 male tribute of the 56th Hunger Games, from Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, found crumpled in a trash bin of the Training Center floor 11

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer Also tagging @jurdan-my-beloved who originally requested the headcanons and @youngreckless Lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

[willothewhisper]

BABE @clockworkprincess19 and I got this information. Thought you should know about it. Just ya fyi. Also a link https://youtu.be/pEdHLa6Cn4k for CC and Daniel's interview. ;)

AAAAHHHHHH WTFFFF WOWWWW

clockwork Princess is hands down one of my favourite Book in TSC, and him reading it just made it ×20192829191911100 times better ughhhh I wanna listen to the audio book RIGHT FUCKING NOW 😭

And my takeaway was His family is from Welsh EHHHH GEEZ but he lives in London. You see the connection huh huh👀. WILL FUCKING HERONDALE IN FLESH, SWEET LORD😩😩😩😩😩🥺🥺🥺💕💕

Why does he want to play Josiah Dickhead Wayland, Woolsey Scott is okay but JW ehh but I like people with unique perspective and taste EITHER WAY HE SHOULD PLAY WILL AND ONLY WILL🥺💕🤧💖

[lex-malla-non-est-lex]

Been a while since I posted a possibly deranged TLH theory while on coffee withdrawal, so here we go.

I’M PRETTY SURE THE CLAVE IS CORRUPT (at least in some part)

And I’m not talking about the Clave in the Uprising/TDA era being infiltrated by bigots with inexplicable influence, I’m talking about the TLH era Clave, the one where Benedict Lightworm the demon-f***er was an influential figure.

Long ramble below:

A running TSC theme is that the Clave and adults in general appear to be useless or unavailable (hence why the young main characters do most of the important things on a series), but let’s be real, in TID the Clave, in its front, was an actual hassle for anyone trying to solve the issues with Mortmain.

It’s been a long time since I read TID, so I have to admit I could have missed some stuff, but he was, pardon my language, peak dumbass. He seemed more stupidly sexist / anti-Charlotte than likely to be involved with Benedict’s shenanigans (hence why threats of exposing Benedict did get Benedict to shut up about challenging Charlotte). So. Corrupt? Probably. Corrupt in the same sense as Benedict? Probably not.

So where does that leave us? The Clave, at presumably the peak of Mortmain’s run and at least 10 years prior, was being lead by Josiah Wayland, who I just called an idiot. Everything in relation to Tessa was treated with what can only be described as incompetence, and it says a lot that somehow the Downworlder-hating Aloysius Starkweather (rightfully) laughed in their face. So basically, the Clave was useless, and Benedict stood pretty high on their social totem pole.

And we know Benedict had friends in the Council. Who those friends were, is never stated, but they certainly existed. From what we see in TID, the Consul and Inquisitor were probably not among them.

You’re probably wondering, how does this rant lead up to the Clave being corrupt in TLH era, and my answer is, well, 24 years isn’t that long, especially if it’s some degree of ingrained corruption that involves demons.

I feel like the main clue is how much crap Tatiana gets away with. Benedict probably got away with a lot before literally turning into a worm. But we outright see Tatiana doing insane things.

Short list of indefensible things in relation to Tatiana:

Tried to blame the deaths of Rupert and Benedict on the London Institute (she got told off because of the literal Lightworm)

She got all the Lightwood money and stuff for some reason

She refused for her son to be runed. (which people appear to somehow ignore)

She adopts a girl she isn’t related to (despite her having living family)

Keeps both the kids in isolation

There are demons in her greenhouse and no one bats an eye (blame Benedict, yeah, yeah)

She gets caught for necromancy and gets off with a sentence of been sent to the Iron Sisters (and probably only got punished at all because she got exposed in public)

Gets to casually go back to her house to talk to Belial prior to being imprisoned like HOW IS THIS WOMAN LEFT UNSUPERVISED

Now, now, I can’t fully blame her siblings for thinking she’s a distraught, broken woman who lost her husband and son, but it’s almost like she’s purposefully allowed so much freedom so that she can continue doing stuff. And Belial seems confident in his ambiguous attack-from-within plan, so Tatiana will probably have some degree of freedom to do whatever their plan is, even while (allegedly) locked up.

You could argue, maybe they’re just the Clave being dumb, but are we supposed to assume that everything is directly Belial’s fault? Tatiana gets away with an insane amount of rules broken, and it’s not even like she hides it, no, everyone knows she’s the crazy daughter of Lightworm who lost her husband and son and does necromancy, but oh, she’s definitely gonna be safe to send to the Iron Sisters. Definitely.

There has to be a degree of corruption within the Shadowhunter community itself for all of this to be enabled. It’s too ridiculous to be caused purely by incompetence.

And sorry for any typos / fails, I’m not rly ok right now but needed to go do TLH rant theories. >:0

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

Nothing Breaks Like A Soul

For @miss-shiva-adler​

Summary: When Robert is asked to take in the orphaned son of his former Parabatai Michael, he doesn’t hesitate and says yes. He hopes that by doing this, he can right the wrongs he did to Michael. But seeing Alec and Jace grow up together and become Parabatai, Robert is forced to think back to the time he and Michael did the same. And more. When Robert realizes that Alec and Jace are also more to each other than Parabatai, he has to decide if he wants to support his son - or not. Happy Ending for Jalec.

A/N: Shiva, it was a pleasure to write this story for you, I really had a lot of fun doing so. I hope you'll enjoy your gift 💙A huge thank you to Jessa for being my beta 💙

Read it on ao3: HERE

When a Clave official asked Robert to take in the son of his former Parabatai Michael, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He just said yes. Michael. He hadn’t heard or said the name in so long. He hadn’t dared to think the name in so long. But now he had to do both. But of course he agreed to take in the son he hadn’t even heard about. Jonathan Christopher. What a strange name for Michael to choose. He would have expected a name connected to the Wayland family tree, as it was tradition. Josiah maybe. What a strange thing to think. He was long past knowing what to expect of Michael. He was long past knowing Michael .

And no it was too late. His former Parabatai was dead. Gone for good. Though for him, Michael had been gone a long time ago. Though this was not entirely true. Robert had made him go. Pushed him. Forced him away. Broken their bond long before Michael’s death broke it for good. A death he had not even felt. There had not been a pain or a sense of loss. Not the slightest discomfort. But Robert had long accepted that with only half his soul left, he couldn’t really feel. Not to speak of love.

But there was enough left of him to take the opportunity to make amends. To take in the son when he had thrown out the father. To make up for what he had done. A boy of ten years stepped through a portal, his face closed off, determined not to let his feelings shine through. Determined to hide the pain and loss he had just endured. Robert couldn’t help but think back to his childhood. When he had met Michael. Though the boy, Jonathan Christopher, didn’t remind him at all of Michael. The only faint resemblance he could find was the similar shade of dark blond hair. Even their eyes had a different color. But then, not all families had such a strong resemblance as the Lightwoods. His mind drifted back to the past anyway.

*

Robert was eleven when he met Michael. They both grew up in Idris, but as Wayland Manor was located in the countryside, far away from Alicante, and Lightwood Manor was closer to Alicante, they had never met before. Besides, Robert’s parents liked to mingle with the elite of Idris. The Herondales, the Penhallows. Though the Wayland family went way back in Shadowhunter history, directly to Wayland the Smith, they had lost power and influence over the years - and thus were of no interest to the Lightwoods.

Robert visited the city center with his mother. He would soon turn twelve, an important age for Shadowhunters. The age of their first runing. And as it was custom, Robert was allowed to choose his first weapon. He couldn’t wait to see the Voyance Rune carved into his skin on the back of his hand. He longed to go on missions with his parents. To prove to himself and to them that he rightly carried the proud Lightwood name. He knew that his last name was the most important thing he had.

A soft smile played around his lips while Robert looked at the wrapped Seraph blade he had chosen. He was just about to exit the weapon store in Alicante, when a boy basically ran into him. They bumped into each other, Robert losing the package that fell with a soft clung to the ground.  

“Be careful.” Robert huffed a little annoyed, already bending down to get his blade back. But Michael was quicker.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I’m just so excited. I'll get my first weapon. I’ll be a real Shadowhunter soon. I’m Michael.” The boy’s eyes gleamed in the sun and Robert was too perplexed to huff any longer, he just reached for the package Michael was holding out to him. “My parents say I get lost too often in my own thoughts. But how could I not be excited to be a real Shadowhunter soon?”

Robert couldn’t help the smile. “I know! I also just chose my own weapon. I’ll be twelve in a few weeks and then I’ll get my first rune! Here, this is what I chose.” But before he could unwrap the blade, the impatient voice of his mother made him hurry along, leaving Michael behind with an apologetic shrug.

*

“You must be Jonathan. I’m Robert. I was your father’s Parabatai. Welcome to New York.” Robert extended his hand a little awkwardly towards the young boy who watched him with a cautious expression in his eyes. And who could blame him? Probably he hadn’t even known that his father had a Parabatai. At least his own children hadn’t known. The shame of being reminded of what had become of them was too severe to want to talk about it.

“This is my wife Maryse. You’ll stay with us now. Do you go by Jonathan or do you have another name?” The boy took his hand tentatively and shook it, not less awkward than Robert felt. But then determination settled in his young face, as if he had just decided that, as apparently this was his new life, he might as well own it.

“I’m Jonathan. And why would I need another name? I didn’t know my father had a Parabatai.”

“All right, Jonathan it is then. I will show you to your room and then you can meet our children.” Robert led the way to the sleeping quarters, Jonathan on his heels clutching the small suitcase he had come with.

Robert waited silently while the boy unpacked his things and stored his few belongings methodically and neatly into the wardrobe and shelves. It was not much anyway. It seemed Michael hadn’t believed in personal things. At least Robert had expected books, as Michael had always loved to read and get lost in stories and tales. But besides clothes, weapons, and a small wooden toy soldier, Jonathan hadn’t brought anything.

“Come on. My oldest, Alec, is in the training room. I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

When he opened the door to the training room, Alec was busy shooting arrows. He was so startled by their arrival, that he missed the target by far but nearly hit Jonathan.

“Hey, we’re on the same side,” Jonathan said, holding his hands up, but with the first real smile on his face since he had stepped through the portal. Alec smiled as well and a moment later, they already talked about something else, like only children could. Robert sighed silently when he saw the first tender bond of friendship bloom so instantly between the two. He was relieved, on the one hand. He knew Alec would take care of the boy. He had seen the same protectiveness appear in Alec’s eyes as had appeared when Alec talked about Izzy. And this meant he needn’t worry about Jonathan too much.

On the other hand, he clearly felt the dull pain. Once in his life he had been able to have such immediate friendship. Never before, never after. Only ever with Michael.

*

“Hi.”

Robert looked up, startled at the voice of the boy who had suddenly appeared at the steps of Lightwood Manor.

“You wanted to show me your weapon of choice.” Michael just carried on with a smile, ignoring the surprised look and the fact that one week had gone by since their first and only encounter.

And despite himself, Robert smiled back. “Wait. I’ll fetch it.” He jumped to his feet to get his Seraph blade. And with that, it was sealed. Robert showed Michael his blade, Michael the kindjals he had chosen. Their eyes gleamed while they got lost in their words and stories. One thing led to another and before both knew it, the sky turned grey and Michael needed to go home. But both knew that they would see each other again. They had become friends. Without ever having the need to discuss it.

*

A few weeks had gone by since Jonathan’s arrival and it seemed the boy had settled in. Robert watched Alec and Jonathan train. Alec was skilled, he was taller and he was older. But Jonathan clearly was advanced. He fought with a serenity Robert had seldomly seen in such a young kid. As if he fought for real and didn’t just train. As if the weapon he wielded was not for training, but to kill.

And Robert started to wonder. If it was a coincidence or not. Because Jace was just ten and clearly too young to know how to kill. To know how it felt when a blade cut through flesh until it met resistance and with a little turn of the blade, the last breath of life vanished from the opponent. He was too young, but it seemed Jonathan knew anyway.

He was also clearly too young to have that calculating expression in his eyes, always on guard. Always looking for the best outcome for himself - and for Alec. But Jonathan should be also too young to fear punishment after having made a mistake. And even though Jonathan was always quick to conceal the angst, Robert saw it. It was there. Robert swallowed hard. He knew what it meant. Michael must have punished the boy. Must have taken him on hunts. Must have taught him to kill. His Michael, who had been gentle and warm, like the sun, must have brought up this boy to be a killer.

Jonathan was also not old enough to already carry runes. And yet, he had already several runes etched into his skin. A fact that should alarm him and Maryse. No one runed their children so early. The risks were too high for the runing to go wrong and kill the kid. But Maryse was too busy admiring Jonathan’s skills and his charms. And Robert was too guilty to take a closer look. Because he knew that his Michael would have never runed a boy that young. His Michael would never have endangered a child. Not after Michael had seen what a rune could do to a child. But his Michael was long gone. So long gone that he didn’t feel him dying. He had changed Michael in a way he had never thought possible. The warm and loving friend had turned into a ruthless, merciless father. And all of that was his own fault.

*

Robert was excited for this day. His parents were throwing a party in his favour. Shadowhunters didn’t do mundane holidays. They didn’t do birthdays. But they did the runing ceremony and Robert was glowing. The first rune was always special and he couldn’t wait for the proud look in his parents’ eyes when it would be done.

He took a seat in the special chair in the middle of the room when Brother Enoch entered. If Robert was honest, the Silent Brothers - with their sewed-shut mouths and their stitched eyes - always scared him. But he knew what was expected of him. To be brave. Not to flinch. He was a Lightwood, after all. And he would honor the Lightwood name just as his father had reminded him to an hour ago.

Robert was prepared. He knew that runes always burnt a little, especially the first one. He was prepared for a little sting. What he wasn’t prepared for was the pain. The excruciating, unbearable pain that jolted through his body the moment the Silent Brother finished his first rune. He wasn’t prepared, and even if he had been, he would have screamed anyway. It was just too much to bear. The pain took possession of his body. His blood turned to fire while it burned him from within. There was not a single part of his body that didn’t hurt. He screamed until he fell to the floor, his small body spasming with pain, foam frothing at his mouth. He screamed until his voice was hoarse and no air was left to scream.

“We need to cut the rune.” The voice of Brother Enoch echoed through Robert’s head. It would make Robert a mundane. But the pain would stop. All Robert wanted was for the pain to stop.

“No. He is a Lightwood. He’ll push through.” The cold voice of his father rang loudly in Robert’s ears while he lay on the floor, curled up into a tiny ball. Pain still jolted through him in waves. And he was hot. So hot. And all he wanted was for it to stop. For his parents to take mercy and cut the rune. But they didn’t. When another wave of pain ran through him, his mind showed the mercy his parents didn’t. He blacked out.

The next time he woke he was in his room. He was still in pain and he was still so hot. His mother was sitting next to his bed, pressing a cold washcloth to his face.

“The fever is not going down. He has been in this state for weeks now. You have to cut the rune. Otherwise he’ll die.” It was the voice of Brother Enoch again, and if Robert could have spoken in his delirious state, he would have begged his mother to do so. But he couldn’t, so only an incomprehensive moan escaped his dry mouth.

“No. That will make him a useless mundane. He’ll live as a Shadowhunter, or…”

Tears started to fall that went unnoticed by his mother and the Silent Brother. His parents preferred him dead to mundane. Robert moaned again before his mind slipped into unconsciousness.

He woke up several times in the next few days, always writhing in pain, the fever never going down. It was Michael who sat mostly beside his bed. Reading words to him Robert couldn’t understand. But he understood the gentleness in Michael’s voice. The concern. Michael’s voice and his presence were the things that kept Robert sane, his mind secured in his body despite the pain. Robert couldn’t think what he’d be without Michael.

When Robert finally woke up, for real without pain or fever, he was alone in his room. He took his time to call his parents. He just stared at the ink black rune on the back of his hand. The rune that nearly ended his life. The rune that showed him what he was worth to his parents. Nothing, if he was not able to carry the mark. To carry the Lightwood name as a Shadowhunter. But it had also shown what he was worth to Michael. Everything, even without it.

It took Robert two years to draw another rune on his body. Or rather, let it be drawn. By Michael. And only the promise of becoming Parabatai with him made Robert brave enough to try it. When the Deflect rune on his neck flared up, only causing a small sting, and not unbearable pain, Robert nearly cried. He was glad that only Michael was his witness. That Michael had drawn the rune. To protect him. To show him that he was not weak but the Shadowhunter his parents wanted.

A few months later, Michael and Robert became Parabatai, the ceremony just formalizing what they were. Best friends. Closer than blood. Michael was his sun and his light, and the bond just cemented that. Without Michael, Robert would be nothing, still afraid of his own shadow. But with Michael, Robert felt brave. He knew they would be inseparable from now on.

*

Robert watched Jonathan become Jace and he and Alec inseparable. He saw Jace transform under Alec’s care from the boy who was scared to be punished, but hid that well, to a boy who was self-confident, even cocky. Though the cockiness was just an armor, it was an improvement. Especially because Jace let that armor down sometimes. Just for one person, though. Only ever for Alec.

Robert saw the loneliness in Jace’s eyes transform into a sense of belonging. And Robert knew that this was not due to his or Maryse’s efforts. He knew it was just down to Alec. Alec who seemed to be everywhere Jace was, always looking out for him. Even when sometimes Jace tried to hide. But Alec always managed to drag Jace out of the shadows, making him shine. And soon Jace learned to love the spotlight. The attention. But what Jace clearly craved more than that was Alec. As much as Alec sought out Jace, Jace took care of Alec. Jace was, next to Izzy, the only one who could make Alec smile for real.

Robert heard Jace’s screams that echoed throughout the quiet nights in the New York Institute. He heard, but he never answered. On the first night, he had been about to go into Jace’s room but then he had heard Jace scream words. Father, no. Father, please don’t. Father please stop. And Robert couldn't. He just couldn’t go in and face what he himself had done. What he had done to Michael to turn him into a man who was feared by his own son. Robert just couldn’t face hearing Jace beg for Michael to stop - and it seemed, Michael had never stopped.

Robert had never been a brave man. So he turned and went back to his own room, secretly relieved when, after a few nights of terror, he heard Alec slip into Jace’s room and not return. The nightmares stopped after that.

Robert saw both boys fall for each other, drawn together like moth and light. At the beginning he just wasn’t sure who was the light, and who the moth. He saw everything happening before his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to intervene. Because intervening would have meant that he would have to deal with Jace himself. And he just couldn’t do that. Jace just showed nothing of Michael, his old Michael, and it was just too painful. Even Jace’s hair, the only physical reminder of Michael, had become several shades lighter.

It was easy to spot that both boys fought better when together, always fierce to protect the other. They moved together, against each other, as if the other was an extension of their own body. Jace’s skills had stayed extraordinary, but with Alec by his side he was also fearless. It was clear that Jace would do anything to protect Alec. And that Alec would do the same.

Therefore it was not a surprise when it happened, but Robert dreaded it anyway. When both boys stood before him and Maryse, buzzing with excitement - their shoulders nearly touching, so close were they standing together - and announced that they wanted to become Parabatai, he could only nod his agreement. How could he not? How could he tell them no without giving a reason? Especially because Maryse was quick to encourage them. She had always been drawn to power, and though Jace didn’t carry a fancy last name, his skills would clearly pave the way for him. And it wouldn’t hurt to attach the Lightwood name to the best warrior in generations.

So Robert watched while his son knelt down before Jace in the holy rings of fire to draw the Parabatai rune on Jace’s hip. Robert’s hand shot out to his own hip, where just a faint white scar reminded him of his own vow. Entreat me not to leave me. A vow he had broken in so many ways.

Robert watched while Alec’s eyes lit up with what Robert hoped was just friendship, or maybe brotherhood, when Jace knelt down himself to mark Alec as his. But he wasn’t so sure. He just knew that Michael’s eyes had shone in the same bright light that Alec’s did. That Jace’s did. Michael’s eyes had shone twice in his life like that. Once when they had become Parabatai. The second time when they had become even more.

*

A year after Robert and Michael had their Parabatai ceremony, his parents decided to send Robert to the Shadowhunter Academy. A common practice, but Robert knew that his parents also wanted him gone. He still felt their disappointment due to his weakness at the runing ceremony and he suspected that they would be glad if they didn't need to see him every day; if he would be gone. And with him the constant reminder of his failure. Robert was an only child, all expectations to carry on the Lightwood name were on him. And so far, he had failed.

Robert didn’t mind so much, though. Michael was coming with him, and this was all that mattered. Their close friendship had even deepened through their bond. The feeling of Michael’s heart beating in his own chest, of their entwined souls, was nothing his life before had prepared Robert for. It was intimacy he craved, but sometimes also feared. It was easy to get lost in their bond. In Michael himself. Pretend that he himself didn’t exist any longer; only them. But he also knew that he had to stay himself. To be able to protect Michael. Michael had become his sun, his lifeline. The person who brightened his day and dulled the pain. The person who illuminated his further path.

The time when Robert had been too afraid to rune himself had led to him being behind in his studies and most other Shadowhunters his age were more advanced and skilled than him. He had known that. But seeing it every day hurt nevertheless. Seeing that Michael was accepted easily among the others was hard. Michael was kind and gentle, but not weak. He knew how to stand his ground. He was a skillful fighter, sometimes too lost in his own thoughts, but hard to defeat anyway. And he was about to turn into a beauty. His boyish figure had filled out over the last months and Robert started to notice the looks Michael got from others, mostly older students. Male or female. Robert noticed that he started to look himself.

When Michael trained with a bare chest, Robert caught himself looking a little too long and a little too closely at the way his muscles moved under his skin. How his biceps flexed when he wielded a sword or his lips turned into a silent ‘o’ when someone landed a hit. Wondering what else could cause Michael’s lips to curl into that same motion.

And though he himself was still more a boy than Michael, he thought Michael looked as well. Sometimes they caught each other looking and for a split second, their eyes would lock, frozen in a moment of stolen looks and wishful thinking. But then it would break and they would both look away, quickly reassuring each other that they were Parabatai. And that was why they were looking. They weren't looking at each other, they were looking out for each other. What good Parabatai did. Because loving your Parabatai was forbidden. Loving a man was looked down on. His parents would disown him. The Clave de-rune them. So Robert looked away, just like Michael did.

Weeks turned into months and it was still not easy for Robert to settle in. Being constantly reminded that the others were better didn’t sit well with him and he separated himself - except  from Michael of course. And it was easy to separate, as the others didn’t seek his company either. A lot thought him weak. What had happened after his runing ceremony wasn’t a secret, to his dismay. So Robert was more than stoked when one of the most glamorous boys in the Academy approached him. Valentine Morgenstern. He was by far the most dazzling boy in the Academy. He had a Parabatai himself, Lucian Greymark, and a group of friends that always followed him on his heels. Jocelyn Fairchild. Maryse Trueblood. Stephen Herondale. Robert couldn’t believe it when Valentine asked him to join as well. First tentatively, but after a few weeks with more enthusiasm, Robert followed the invitation. And of course he dragged Michael with him. He felt Michael’s reluctance in their bond, but he also knew that for his sake Michael would follow.

Valentine was intriguing. With his radiant smile, his sharp rhetoric and his superior fighting skills, he had everyone wrapped around his little finger, starting from the teachers, ending with the students. And especially the little group that always surrounded him. His chosen group. The circle of friends, that soon became the Circle. Valentine had ambitious plans. He wanted to change the world, shape it into one where Shadowhunters ruled and the Downworld needed to follow.

If Robert was honest, he didn’t care so much about Valentine’s vision. He cared about the feeling of belonging. A belonging he had lost when he had realized that he was not worth more than the runes on his skin. Only Michael had always been there for him, but he relished in the feeling of a broader group. So Robert didn’t see, or chose to ignore the dangers Valentine presented.

Robert had never gotten enough attention. He knew his parents only cared for him when he was a Shadowhunter. Brought glory to the Lightwood name. He was used to that, but it still hurt. It made him feel inferior, so he soaked up Valentine’s attention like a sponge. Not caring that it was a dangerous kind of attention. It was attention, and that was all that mattered. And as Michael was Michael, he followed Robert. How could he not? They were Parabatai.

While they were dragged into Valentine’s world, their bond deepened. Living together, sharing a room, synchronised them even more than they had been before. Robert knew what Michael was thinking even before he said anything. Michael mirrored Robert’s movements without having to look. But they felt never closer than when they fought together. The Parabatai Bond was a battle bond. Forged in heavenly fire, fueled by their fierceness and their bravery and there was nothing the two of them feared when they were together. No Downworlder, no demon.

When both turned eighteen, they were allowed to go on their first mission alone No teacher, no other students. Just them. Deep in the forests of Brocelind there had been a feral Werewolf detected. A Werewolf out for blood. Mundane blood. A feral wolf was dangerous. But a wolf, no matter how feral, no matter how dangerous, was not a match for a well-attuned pair of Parabatai. Not when the pair was also out for blood. Which they were.

Being away from the Academy, from the Circle, from Valentine, made Robert’s blood boil in anticipation. Free. That was what it felt like. He laughed carelessly when he followed Michael deep into the woods, leaving the sunlight behind together with the burdens of their daily lives. But Robert had never needed sunlight when he could have Michael. He bumped his shoulder very deliberately into Michael’s, and Michael shoved back, a low, sexy laugh emanating deep from within. From the spot where their souls were joined. Being alone meant that there was no tension between them, at least not from the outside. The longer they stayed in the Circle the clearer it became that Michael didn’t like what Valentine preached. He just stayed for Robert. And this put a strain on their bond.

But being physically away from Valentine and his influence, while they dissolved deeper into the enchanted woods of Brocelind, there was no place for this strain or tension. There was only a place for the tension between them. The touch that was too placed to be a coincidence. The look that lingered just that tiny bit too long. The brush of fingers that was just that little bit too caring. Too loving. The smile that was too soft. The laugh that was too carefree. The eyes that shone too bright. The stare that was too heated. Especially the heat that was too warm and too radiant.

Michael shoved and Robert pushed back and the next thing Robert knew was that he was running after Michael who was shaking with unbidden laughter. They knew they had to kill today, but they both didn’t mind. They were free. They were alone and that was what mattered.

*

“Alec.”

The name made Robert’s head jerk up. But that was not exactly true. It was not the name itself. It was the way it was spoken. Like a promise. Like a prayer. Like a declaration.

Rob. Robert shook his head hard. But the voice in his head stayed. Rob. No one had ever called him that. No one but Michael. And even Michael only once. This one time, in Brocelind forest. When all they were supposed to do was kill a feral wolf. But they had done so much more. But they also had killed. Especially he.

“Jace.”

It was just a breath in the air but Robert couldn’t endure it any longer. He couldn’t stay and watch the eyes of his son light up when he said Jace’s name. He couldn't bear to see Jace’s eyes soften when he looked up to Alec. Eyes that had nothing in common with Michael’s eyes. Except the soft look. And the heat. The ever blazing, radiant light.

Robert fled the training room, knowing he should stay. Stay and make sure his son was not making the same mistake. But he just couldn’t. The Rob was ringing too loudly in his mind. Michael’s eyes stared at him with too much intensity. Too much softness. Too much heat.

*

The feral wolf lay dead at their feet, slit open by both their blades that they had buried in him at the same time. Both were panting, covered in blood and dirt. But their eyes were still laughing.

“Here, let me.” Michael knew that Robert still didn’t like to apply runes. Besides, runes from Parabatai worked better. And though the cut was only superficial, it needed to be dealt with. He pushed Robert’s gear up to expose his defined abs. Robert was not tall, but he was compact. Muscled. What he lacked in finesse, he made up for in strength. With gentle fingers Michael brushed over his flat abdomen before he pressed the stele down. To draw the healing rune. To put another mark on Robert’s body. His mark.

Robert looked down on Michael while he drew the familiar rune. When Michael looked up their eyes met. And without having spectators, there was no need to look away. There was no need to pretend that there was something less in their stare than want. And love. And heat.

“Rob.”

At this, Robert's last restraint broke, dissolving into thin air - if he had any in the first place, he was not so sure about that. But if he had it, it was gone with this one syllable. With his name shortened to just one breath of air. No one had ever called him Rob . No one had ever meant his name in the way Michael did. In the darkness of the enchanted Brocelind Forest.

“Rob.”

It was as if the name touched his soul, just in the way Michael’s fingertips had brushed over his naked skin a moment ago. Robert was lost. Lost in this moment, in the heat that radiated from Michael, reflected in their bond that thrummed under his skin, demanding and wanting.

He didn’t know who moved first. The only thing he knew, the only thing that mattered, was that suddenly his back was pressed against a tree and Michael’s lips were close to his. The rough texture of the bark was strangely comforting, a harsh contrast to the softness of Michael’s body that was pressing against his own. They looked one last time at each other before it felt like nothing else existed besides their lips, tongues and teeth. Tongues slid over mouths, teeth buried themselves in bottom lips before both gasped and licked into each other, claiming what had always been theirs. Their hearts were beating feverishly in their chests, ready to explode. Ready to melt into one, just like their souls.

Robert had never kissed before. He had never felt the urge to press his lips to another person, but now it felt like the most natural thing to do. He had thought about how it might feel. But he had never imagined it like this. Like the other was the oxygen he desperately needed. The dry land while he was drowning. Michael tasted like blood and earth. It was the most intoxicating thing Robert had ever tasted. There was nothing left in this world that mattered more than Michael’s lips, his taste, his grinding hips that were met by his own. Hands found their way into hair, tugging and pulling until moans spilled out of their mouths, moans that were quickly swallowed by the next kiss. He licked his way into Michael’s mouth shamelessly, letting his tongue slide over his teeth and inner cheeks, taking all he was granted by Michael.

Robert felt himself soar. Higher and higher until his body was not connected to earth anymore. Michael was all the earth he needed. He floated, only held in place by Michael’s hand and lips. By Michael’s soul.

Their bodies were covered in a golden glow, emanating from their Parabatai mark. Their rune pulsated under their skins with an unknown force. It didn’t feel threatening. Not like a curse. But also not like a blessing. More like a given. A necessity. Like their rune screamed at them. Finally. Took you long enough.  

With every kiss, with every lick, with every hand that roamed over more naked skin, with every fly that was unzipped, with every cock that was stroked their bond flared brighter. Their runes glowed more. Their souls melted more together until it was nearly unbearable. The need to become one. The need to be one. To stay one.

Robert was rutting into Michael’s hand, breathless and out of his mind. His back scrubbed over the bark of the tree, but he didn’t feel it. He only felt Michael. His hand that wrapped around his cock harder, with just the right pressure. The way he liked it. Pumping him harder, making his back arch and his breathing even more ragged. Making him soar even higher until even the sky didn’t feel like a limit anymore. Robert came with a soft cry, spilling all over them.

Michael was still rutting against him, his lips had found his own again, kissing him like before. Like Robert was the only thing that mattered. Like Robert was Michael’s world to his sun. Michael’s hips snapped forward, sucking and biting at Robert. The thrumming in their bond became louder, the pain sharper.

Robert knew that they were a heartbeat away from completely corrupting their bond. And he felt that Michael wanted this, wanted this with all his heart, just as he had wanted the bond in the first place. And corruption was not right. There was no darkness awaiting. But light. Only light and brightness. There was nothing dark about what they did. But sometimes light was even more frightening than darkness. Especially when you were raised in the shadows. Used to the dim lighting there, the bright dazzling sun could be scary. Dangerous. Even if the sun was coming from the eyes of the person you loved the most in the world. Especially then.

Robert pushed Michael away. “Go away. What have you done? You are a pervert. This is wrong. What have you done?”

Robert saw that his words hurt Michael more than a claw of the wolf ever could. More than if he had stabbed him directly in the back. What have you done?  

Though it had been them . But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He saw the disappointment in his father’s eyes. He saw the thin lips of his mother pressed into a line of disapprovement. He saw Michael, his Michael, who would leave him if he saw how weak he truly was. When their souls would be more entwined than before, Michael would see him like all others did. And he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. It hurt to push Michael away. But to face the light hurt even more. So instead, he pushed further. Said more words that hurt Michael more. That hurt him more. Instead of joining their souls further, he felt his own break under the strain. Under the distance he put between his and Michael’s. And then Robert started to run, without ever looking back.

It was this night that he hooked up with Maryse. Maryse who had eyed him for so long, something Robert had always pretended not to see. Maryse who he knew wanted him only for his name. Because that was all he was worth. His name. And Maryse saw that. Michael hadn’t. But he would know soon. Probably he knew already.

Robert and Michael never talked about what happened in Brocelind Forest. What hadn’t happened but nearly had. That their souls had nearly merged and transformed into something else. Into something more beautiful. And thus so frightening. Instead, their souls had crumbled down. Had been cut in half. Had been broken. They never spoke about it, and soon they didn’t speak at all. Michael broke with the Circle. Robert became Maryse’s boyfriend. And soon husband. Then a father. Michael married. Became a father himself. But they never saw each other again.

*

Robert watched Alec and Jace train like he did sometimes, when he didn’t hide behind his tasks for the Clave. They were mesmerizing to watch. Though they were not yet of age, they already fought like fully trained warriors. Alec was taller and used this to his advantage. Jace was quicker and stronger. So normally it ended with Alec pinned to the floor, a grinning Jace above him.

Robert didn’t need to feel their synced pulses to know that their hearts beat as one. He didn’t need to feel the adrenaline rushing through their bodies, giving them a high only the fight against a Parabatai could. Against a Parabatai that even meant more than that. He knew. He knew from the way Jace’s eyes shone bright and lingered just a little too long on Alec’s face before he started his attack. He knew from the way Alec looked back instead of attacking himself.

The spark between Jace and Alec got harder to ignore each time Robert really dared to look at them. There weren’t only the looks. There were the touches that faded from innocent to more. The brushing of their pinkies when they walked side by side. The pressing of thighs together when they sat. The runing which both used as an excuse to touch bare skin. To caress bare skin.

The worst part was, Robert knew how all this felt. Sometimes when he pressed his stele to his skin, he fantasized that it was Michael’s hands that pushed his shirt up, to rub over the unmarked skin before etching a rune into it. Michael had drawn nearly all of his runes. Robert had never become comfortable with runing. But since their parting, he had drawn them all himself. But he still missed the way his body had lit up when Michael had finished a rune. He still missed Michael’s hands on his skin. He still missed Michael.

Robert watched with a frown when Jace threw Alec over his shoulder and pinned him down with skillful ease, his typical cocky grin on his face that transformed briefly into something smoother. Something warmer. Robert had to admit that this worried him, together with the rest. But what terrified him was what came next. Alec managed to overpower Jace and in a heartbeat Jace was the one pinned onto the mattress and Alec held him down with an unforgiving grip. A grip that went on a little too long after Jace had tapped out. Just a little too long but Robert had noticed. Of course he had. Because he knew why Alec had managed to overpower Jace. For the same reason he had been able to overpower Michael sometimes, even though Michael had been the better fighter. Because Michael had been too distracted by him.

Robert was scared that his son was repeating the same mistake as he had made. Falling for the wrong person. Especially because Robert saw Alec soar. He saw Alec soar higher and higher towards the sun like Icarus. And like Icarus he would get burned. Or fall. In either way, he dreaded that Alec would get destroyed in the process.

He knew that he had not been a perfect father. Or even a good one. Loving had never come easy to him, and when he had pushed Michael away, he had pushed part of his own soul away. Not only Michael’s part. Also a part of his own that had been attached to Michael’s. And loving with a complete soul was hard enough. But with a broken one?

So Robert knew he hadn’t been what his children deserved. Yet, he wanted to protect Alec now. He saw so much of himself in Alec, he couldn’t let his boy make the same mistake. A mistake Alec would regret as much as he had. Alec was not ready for the light. Just like him, Alec had always been a child in the shadows. And though it was hard to find a similarity between Jace and Michael, Jace was as much the light as Michael had been. And as Michael had burned him, involuntarily, Jace would burn Alec as soon as they would give in to what Robert suspected both wanted. Robert needed to prevent that. He needed to separate them before their souls truly merged. Before they had truly crossed the line. Just as Michael and he had done.

“We need to separate Alec and Jace.” Robert sat in front of Maryse's desk, rubbing tiredly over his bald head.

“So, you’ve heard it as well? The rumours that Jace is not Michael’s son but Valentine’s? There is no proof either way, but I agree that it's better to send him away. I don’t want him tainting our name when it proves true. If it proves wrong, no harm is done. He can come back.”

Robert just shook his head lightly at the ease with which Maryse was ready to disown Jace. He hadn’t heard the rumours, but he couldn’t quite believe them. But he also wouldn’t argue with her now, of course. It was what he wanted and frankly, he was glad that he didn’t need to give his true reasons. “So we arrange a portal to Idris? He can attend the Academy there. We tell him it’s the best for his education. The boys won’t like it, though.”

Maryse just shrugged. “They’ll have to deal with that. As long as they are underage they’ll have to do what we say. I suggest we arrange a portal late at night and get Jace by surprise. I don’t need a fuss about that.”

Robert nodded. It was unfair, but it was for the best. Alec had just turned seventeen. At least one year of separation should be enough to weaken their bond. To make one of the boys fall for another person. Hopefully.

“Alec!” Jace’s voice was tinged with panic.

“What’s going on here?” Alec stormed out of his room, barefoot and with just pyjamas on. Pure terror was blinking in his eyes when he saw Jace with a backpack and two men dragging him away. Alec turned to Robert.

“Dad, what is going on here?” Alec asked again. Not asked. Demanded. He squared his shoulders and glared at Robert in a way he'd never seen him do. “What are they doing with Jace?”

“Jace will continue his education at the Academy in Idris. We managed to get a portal right away so that he won’t miss more of the term than he already has. This will help him get better and advance further. And before you ask, Alec, no. You won’t join. You are needed here with your family. And also no, I don’t care that you two are Parabatai. You can be Parabatai from afar. It’s the best solution for everyone.” Maryse's cold voice demanded obedience like always.

“No.” Both Jace and Alec said it in unison, their eyes locking.

“Yes. And believe me, you have no other choice. You are both underage and we can decide what is best for you. And we have decided and you will follow. The both of you.” Even though Robert had not thought it possible, Maryse’s voice had become a shade colder. The threat was clearly audible.

“Alec!”

Robert saw the grip of the older man to Jace’s bicep tightening and the Strength rune on the Shadowhunter light up when he dragged Jace away towards the readily open portal.

“Jace!”

Robert closed his eyes at the agony in his son’s voice. But it was for the better. It was for Alec’s own good.

The whole time, while Jace was dragged away and Alec was held back, their eyes stayed locked onto each other. Not once did they look away.

Weeks had gone by where Jace had tried to break out of the Academy several times and Alec had tried to run away. But all attempts had been in vain. The Academy was heavily guarded with magical wards and not ever had one student been able to leave without permission. And even Jace, with his more than average strength, couldn’t.

Maryse had been very clear after Alec’s first attempt that she would get him chipped if he ever tried something like that again. Robert had seen Alec sink. Both of them knew that Maryse was serious.

From the way Alec’s shoulders hunched, Robert could tell that Alec had given in. At least for now. He saw that there was a fight left though. A strength that would never leave Alec, at least not as long as there was something to fight for. Someone. Jace. A strength Robert himself had never possessed. Alec would never give up fighting for Jace. One look into Alec’s face told him that. But he also saw an emptiness in Alec’s eyes he had never seen there before. An emptiness he recognized. Mostly from looking in the mirror.

“The boy needs to come back.” This time Robert didn’t take a seat, but remained standing in front of Maryse’s desk.

“What are you talking about?” Maryse looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Jace. He needs to come back from the Academy. And this is not a request. This will happen.” Robert was calm now. He had made a mistake. He had misjudged Alec. He had read too much of himself in his eldest. And though it was true that Alec was more used to being in the shadows, Alec was also used to shining. Unlike him, Alec was not afraid of the light or the heat Jace offered. Alec had enough fire in his own veins to counter Jace’s. Alec had enough ice to rein in Jace’s heat. Alec was way stronger than he would ever be.

“How dare-” Maryse fret and fumed, but Robert didn’t even let her finish.

“We both know that normally I let you do whatever you want to do. And we also both know that what you want the most, always wanted the most, is my precious last name. So in case you don’t want to lose the right to carry it, you will order Jace back here. Immediately.”

With that Robert stood up and left the room, leaving a speechless Maryse behind.

Robert sighed. The next talk he had to do would be even more difficult. He took a steadying breath before he knocked on Alec’s door.

“Come in.” Alec’s calm voice sounded through the door.

Robert pressed down the handle and stepped in. Alec sat on his bed with crossed legs, looking questioningly at his father. Robert had no idea when he had been in Alec's room the last time.

“Alec, we need to talk.”

“About what?” Alec frowned at him, a guarded expression had settled on his face. Robert knew he deserved that look.

“About Jace. About you and Jace.”

The frown deepened and when Alec just looked back at him, not saying anything, Robert carried on.

“Look, Alec, I was once a Parabatai as well, I-”

“You. You have no idea, Dad. If you had, you would never have separated Jace and me. I need him. I’m nothing without him. And everything with him. But how could you know? You didn’t even feel your own Parabatai die!” Alec spat at him.

Robert flinched at Alec’s words, but he knew he deserved them. He hadn’t felt Michael die. “I, for one, know that your feelings have long crossed the line from being strictly parabataily.”

Now it was Alec’s time to flinch. And blush. “We never-... I mean, no.” Alec stammered trying to hide the panic at his father’s words.

“It’s okay, Alec. I know. I see it. I’ve seen it for a while but I chose to ignore it. This is why I thought it is the right thing to send Jace away. To prevent you from making the same mistake as I did.” Robert looked calmly at Alec. Suddenly it was easy to speak. He had failed at being the Parabatai Michael had deserved. The lover he had desired. He had failed at being the father his children had needed. The first he couldn’t change. The latter he could.

He held up a hand to interrupt Alec. “I know nothing has happened yet. But I also see that it will. And I know now that it was wrong to keep you two away. You need each other. But you also need to know Alec, what happens when you not only walk the line like you two do now, but step over it. And I know what happens because I did it. With Michael.”

Alec sucked in a breath, his eyes huge with wonder and disbelief. “You and Michael?”

“I and Michael. And the first thing you need to know Alec, is that there is no curse. At least not the curse the Clave warns us about. But the bond will change nevertheless. Your souls are entwined now. But when you cross the line, your souls will melt. There will never be a way back from that. And believe me, I tried. I was too frightened from what was happening to me, to us, that I pushed Michael away. But with Michael, I also pushed part of my soul away. And I can never undo this. Either way, it will be forever, Alec.”

Alec looked at him, nodding slowly. “You know Dad, with Jace and me there was never a way back. Just forward. Together. But what exactly happens?”

Robert drew in another breath before he started to talk. About the blazing light and the sun that had wanted to consume him and that had frightened him. That he had been too weak to bear the light but that he knew that Alec was stronger.

Alec just sat on the bed, nodding quietly. It was a lot to take in.

“So, Alec, are you still sure?” Robert looked closely at Alec, but all he could see was certainty.

“Yes. Jace and me - it’s what I want.” Alec’s reply came without hesitation.

“Good. Then follow me.” Robert stood up and left Alec's room, Alec on his heels. He led him to Maryse's empty office, where a blue portal was already shimmering. Just when they entered, Jace stepped through it.

“Alec.”

“Jace.”

They didn’t shout or scream. They just breathed the name of the other as if they were the oxygen they had missed.

Robert smiled when he saw all emptiness vanish from Alec’s gaze when the eyes of the two boys locked. Without making a sound, Robert left the room and closed the door behind him with a soft thud.

[thanatosangels]

do you know who doesn’t get enough hate? Josiah Wayland

[ao3feed-malec]

Mavi Kalkan

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33icnOF

by toujourspurr

Alec nihayet Magnus'a evlenme teklif etmeye karar verdiğinde bir suç mahalline çağrılır. Burada ölü bir keş, pis bir sokakta paltosu ve ayakkabısı olmadan yatmaktadır. O ve ortağı Jace, bir tanık bulurlar.

Çöplüğün arkasında bir çocuk saklanarak çömelmektedir.

Oğlan konuşmuyordur. Kimseye güvenmez. Alec dışında.

Alec ve Magnus, çocuğu alıp kalması için ona güvenli bir yer vermek zorundadır. Özellikle de sokakta bulunan esrarkeşi öldüren kişi, beş yaşındaki çocuğu sessiz tutmak istediğinde.

Words: 2792, Chapters: 1/12, Language: Türkçe

Series: Part 2 of Mavi Çelik

Fandoms: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Bane Chronicles - Sarah Rees Brennan & Cassandra Clare & Maureen Johnson, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray, Jace Wayland, Julian Blackthorn, Emma Carstairs, Simon Lewis, Jem Carstairs, Luke Garroway, Jocelyn Fairchild, Charlotte Branwell, Henry Branwell, Maryse Lightwood, Robert Lightwood, Max Lightwood-Bane, Rafael Lightwood-Bane, Diana Wrayburn, Raphael Santiago, Maia Roberts, Bat Velasquez, Jordan Kyle, Sophie Collins, Lydia Branwell, Lily Chen, Casper Sterling, Johnny Rook, Max Lightwood, Josiah Wayland, Original Characters, Eric Hillchurch, Tessa Gray, Will Herondale, Helen Blackthorn, Mark Blackthorn, Cristina Rosales, Matthias Gonzales

Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Julian Blackthorn/Emma Carstairs, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood, Jocelyn Fairchild/Luke Garroway

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Malec

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33icnOF

[aratilightwood]

The cruelty of the shadowhunters - part one

This is a short story I’ve written. I am open to any feedback, and requests of writing prompts from ‘the shadowhunter chronicles’.

This is written at the request of @emilyfairchild. It concerns the parabatai curse as well as the search for the black volume of the dead.

...

London 1857

The morning sunlight hit the council hall windows as the consul watched the London enclave gather for their unplanned meeting.

Josiah Wayland observed the familiar faces of those who were well-known amongst the clave.

Granville Fairchild looked grave and troubled. Benedict Lightwood had a frown upon his face, as he tried to comfort his wife while she wept against his chest. Aloysius Starkweather had a look of impatience, ready to finish the meeting before it even began. Lastly, behind them all was Eloisa Ravenscar, silent and looking at feet as soft tears ran down her face.

Once everyone had taken their seat the consul began, ‘bring forth the evidence, Fairchild.’

Granville stood up and moved towards the consul, while he fiddled with something inside the pocket of his coat and handed it to him.

Inquisitor Whitelaw, who stood behind the consul, observed and read the letter. ‘So it is true than... Silas Pangborn committed suicide because he was in love with his parabatai?’

There was a cacophony of gasps around the council hall, as if no one could believe what had happened.

‘It is indeed what has happened, a tragic situation,’ the consul replied.

‘Tragic?’ Aloysius barked. ‘We should be glad the man didn’t fall in love with a downworlder, how disastrous that would be!’

‘There’s no need to be insensitive Aloysius. The Lightwoods and the Pangborns are still in mourning. If you cannot be civil, you will be escorted from the council hall’ the inquisitor claimed with displeasure.

‘That authority lies with the consul, not the inquisitor’ Aloysius bit back.

‘That’s enough, both of you!’ The consul began, ‘the question remains... should Eloisa be punished for the crime?’

‘Crime? You call love a crime?’ Eloisa stared, looking accusingly at the consul. The tears on her face seemed to have dried.

‘You know the law as well as anyone else,’ the consul looked unsympathetic, ‘especially the law regarding parabatai.’

Eloisa’s lips thinned and she stared stonily ahead.

‘If I may consul,’ the voice was Granville’s, ‘the punishment for parabatai falling in love is exile from each other and the clave...’

‘Indeed...’ the consul began

‘Well, Silas is dead. Isn’t that punishment enough? What good would it do to exile and strip Eloisa of her runes, if the law is no longer being broken?’ Granville Asked.

‘To set an example for future generations of parabatai, the law is hard but it is the law!’ Claimed Aloysius firmly.

The inquisitor had a look of complete loathing as he regarded Aloysius.

‘I agree with Granville,’ said Benedict finally contributing to the meeting, ‘no one will forget what’s happened between Eloisa and Silas, that should serve as a warning to the nephilim.’

‘Very well, We should have a vote.’ The consul claimed. ‘all those in favour of exiling Eloisa from the society of the nephilim for her crime, say Aye!’

Few nephilim on the council had responded, and Aloysius looked displeased with the outcome.

‘All those in favour of pardoning Eloisa for her crime now that Silas is dead, say aye!’ The consul said.

A large majority of the nephilim agreed and the consul said finally, ‘Eloisa Ravenscar please stand.’

Eloisa stood up and looked towards the consul.

The consul began, ‘Count yourself lucky that you remain amongst the nephilim, despite the crime you committed.’

He than turned his attention towards the rest of the hall, ‘and to all of you, do not perceive this verdict as a form of leniency from the clave. The law is indeed hard, but it is the law!’

The consul stood up and prepared to leave, ‘you are now dismissed!’

...

The consul spent the the rest of the day surrounded by papers, mostly about the impending accords.

He didn’t look up when the inquisitor came into his office looking solemn, ‘consul may we discuss the matter of today’s council meeting?’

‘What matter?’ The consul questioned. ‘You were there. It’s all been settled.’

The inquisitor sat himself opposite the consul at his desk and looked at him gravely.

‘Josiah,’ he began. ‘I think it’s time the nephilim know the truth.’

The consul abandoned the papers and his full attention was on the inquisitor, ‘the truth about what, Victor?’

‘The dangers of parabatai relationships.’ The inquisitor replied.

‘No, absolutely not.’ The consul was curt.

‘Maybe not all the nephilim need to be aware, Josiah, perhaps only the institute heads,’ the inquisitor reasoned.

‘No one apart from the elite members being: myself, you and the silent brothers are allowed to know about it,’ the consul said.

‘But if you just consider,’ the inquisitor began

‘No harm was done today.’ The consul interrupted. ‘Silas Pangborn had committed suicide before things got out of hand. There’s no reason why anyone needs to know what could have happened if he were still alive.’

‘I understand why you would want to keep it secret. Nephilim developing warlock abilities. That sort of power would be appealing to most people. But why not warn them just about the bad aspects: disfiguring, turning into monsters and becoming unrecognisable. We cannot allow them to live in ignorant harmony, when they should be aware of the curse.’ The inquisitor explained.

‘Curse.’ The consul scoffed. ‘There is no curse.’

‘But consul,’ the inquisitor looked confused.

‘Its all a lie told by the first consul of the nephilim that ever lived, Victor.’ The consul began. ‘Being in love with your parabatai won’t turn you into an unrecognisable monster, it only enhances your abilities.’

‘But why?’ The inquisitor looked betrayed, as if the consul should have told him this before. ‘Why keep the pretence of the curse? Why make Eros forbidden to parabatai?’

‘The nephilim has always been afraid of what they do not understand, Victor. It will do one no good to know about this. There will be many questions, riots and unrest.’

‘Than we will answer those questions, control those riots and avoid the unrest. People should know.’ The inquisitor pleaded.

‘No victor, no one can know and that is my decision. You should respect that.’ The consul claimed.

The inquisitor did not reply immediately, but stood up and made his way to the office door.

‘It seems that you too are afraid of what you do not understand, Josiah,’ the inquisitor said finally and closed the door behind him.

The consul stared furiously at the closed door and returned to his papers with a troubled expression.

[pamelaaminou]

Monday’s Photography Inspiration - Josiah Johnson Hawes

Monday’s Photography Inspiration – Josiah Johnson Hawes

Josiah Johnson Hawes was a photographer in Boston, Massachusetts.

He was born in Wayland, Massachusetts in 1808. At seventeen he was apprenticed to a carpenter and practiced the trade for six years, which he gave up to be an artist.

He began his career as a portrait painter. “I purchased books, colours and brushes and commenced the study of art . . . I practiced miniature painting on ivory,…