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incandescentlysomething · 6 months

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Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 6

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 4893

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

It was nearly noon when Aelinor awoke, the sun peeking through her curtains and disturbing her peace. She had lain awake for several hours after her night with Aemond, unable to think of anything else but him. How he had held her hand, how close they had been to kissing. It seemed almost childish to be thrown out of sorts by something as simple as a kiss, and yet she was unable to push it from her mind. Alas, when she had finally fallen asleep, it had been a deep one.

Someone was pounding on her door. “Aelinor! Mother wants you.”

It was Jace, and he took her answering groan as permission to enter the chamber. “Why are you still asleep?”

“I’m not asleep, am I?” She rolled over, wincing as she stretched her muscles. “What does Mother want?”

Jace poked her foot through the covers. “We need to begin getting ready for the festivities.”

“We?”

“Well, you do. You have to do your hair and…other things.” He looked genuinely baffled, like he couldn’t fathom what kinds of preparations a woman might have to do to get ready for a royal banquet and ball.

Aelinor heaved herself out of bed with a sigh, accepting the heavy dressing gown Jace handed her to cover her nightgown.

“Is she up yet?” Luc poked his head through the door. “Oh, good morning Aelinor. Or should I say afternoon?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, knotting the dressing gown at the waist.

“Why are you so tired?” Jace asked.

Aelinor shrugged. “Not used to the bed, I guess.”

“I, for one, found the bed and chambers quite comfortable.” Jace said, moving out of her way as they moved into the corridor. “Far less drafty than Dragonstone.”

She searched for an excuse in her sleep-addled brain, unable to come up with anything believable.

“We stayed up late playing cards,” Luc said. “Aelinor wouldn’t let us go to bed until she beat me.”

She thought her younger brother a grateful look, appreciating that he was covering for her.

“And did she?” Jace asked, believing the excuse.

“No, she gave up.” Luc laughed.

Aelinor yawned loudly. “You’re both impossible.”

They stepped into the main room of their family’s chambers, and were immediately met by a throng of people. Maids bustled to and fro, unpacking garments from bags, some already set up with needles and thread to make necessary alterations, and others opening boxes of jewels. Aelinor held her dressing gown a little tighter to her body.

“Aelinor!” Her mother was seated at the small breakfast table, watching two of the maids entertain the small children. “Are you just waking up now?”

“Yes, Mother. I feel rather like the walking dead this morning.”

“Why? Are you ill?” Rhaenyra reached out to touch her daughter’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

She shook her head. “I just stayed up too late.”

“Losing at cards.” Jace teased.

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing Aelinor’s hand. “As long as you’re well. Did you have a good evening, card games aside?”

Aelinor hated lying to her mother. Part of her just wanted to tell her the truth, admit where she had been and who she was with. Her mother had always humored her more rebellious side, and likely wouldn’t be as furious as she was imagining. Not to mention, things would be infinitely worse if her mother found out from whoever had been spying on them in the library.

But still Aelinor was not able to admit everything. “I had a good evening. It’s nice to be back.”

“It is.” Rhaenyra agreed. “Now, we must begin getting you ready. Starting with that hair.” She teasingly pulled on a string of Aelinor’s tangled mane. She had gone to sleep without braiding it, and it was looking quite unkempt.

A maid was waved over, and Aelinor dropped into the seat opposite her mother, reaching for a half-empty plate of biscuits. She chewed slowly as the maid ran a brush through her hair, combatting the tangles one by one.

“The fashion seems to be to wear one’s hair up now,” She said absently. “Perhaps with some braiding throughout?”

Rhaenyra gave her a small smile. “I think it’s best that you wear your hair down, darling.”

“Why?” Aelinor couldn’t see how dancing all evening, getting all sweaty and letting the scent of smoke and cooked meats seep into her hair, could possibly be a good thing.

But then she saw her mother’s eyes dart toward the couch, where Jace was polishing a spot off one of his boots, and she understood. In this fight for her brother’s legitimacy, she was her mother’s best weapon, and her hair was the most obvious way to wield it.

“Unbraided, then.” She acquiesced.

Rhaenyra nodded. “Oh, but we have a circlet for you, darling. You will look beautiful.”

Aelinor offered her mother a sincere smile. It had been years since they had had the opportunity to prepare for an event of this size, and it reminded her of far simpler times.

“I assume you have a dress for me, as well. Can I see it?” She winced as the maid yanked on a stubborn knot behind her ear.

Rhaenyra grinned. “Even better, I have three. We shall have to try them on to see which suits best.”

“Good gods,” Lucerys threw his head back in complaint.

“And you boys shall remain here,” Rhaenyra said quickly. “To help your sister choose.”

Jace glared at his brother. “Is Driftmark worth this, Brother?”

*********************************************************

Aemond was called to his mother’s chambers only an hour before the ball. He had been awake with the dawn, throwing himself into training bouts to while away the time and distract his mind. The night with Aelinor had been more than he had ever dreamed of, and waking up just to remember that she was betrothed to Jacaerys of all people, and that he would have to attend this cursed ball in the evening was enough to drive him into a fury.

None of the visiting nobles were willing to spend the morning on the training grounds, and so he grabbed several young squires and put them through their paces while he worked through his rage. Afterwards, he had returned to his chambers to bathe and dress. The small box inside his writing desk just made him think of Aelinor, and so he had spent more time pacing the halls until Ser Criston came to summon him.

When he arrived at his mother’s chambers, he found it deathly quiet. His brother was reclined on the sofa, head thrown back and eyes closed. Helaena sat quietly at his side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. His mother stood in front of the window, her fingers playing with the Star of the Seven that hung at her throat, worry lines creasing her face.

“Aemond,” she barely glanced his way when he walked in. “Where have you been?”

“Training,” He answered.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aegon slowly rolled his head to the side, eyes lazily scanning him from head to toe. “Did you oil your hair?”

Aemond resisted the urge to smooth his hair. He had, in fact, run some oil through it before pulling it back in his usual style. It was more effort than he would usually put it for a court function, but he had found himself overly concerned with preparing for this event. Even his clothing — a relatively simple green and black tunic and matching trousers — had been freshly washed and pressed.

“Anyone in particular you might be doing that for?” Aegon prodded.

Aemond stiffened. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

His mother dropped her hands, turning to stare at him. “Aemond, you cannot be serious. We spoke of Aelinor. She is not your friend.”

No, she was far more than a friend to Aemond, though he couldn’t blame his mother for trying to lessen it. He didn’t reply, just placed both hands behind his back and waited expectantly.

Alicent walked toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aemond, she is betrothed. Rhaenyra has betrothed her to Jacaerys. Everyone knows it, and it has only to be formally announced. You must distance yourself before you are made a fool of.”

He already was a fool. There was no way he could distance himself, not now. And though each reminder that she was promised to Jace felt like a stab in the gut, he kept his face passive. “And what if she does not wish to marry Jacaerys?”

Alicent shook her head in exasperation. “And who would she marry, Aemond? You? Her mother would never tie her family to ours, and we must not tie ourselves to her’s.”

“Aren’t they our family?” Helaena spoke up suddenly, surprising all of them.

Alicent barely spared a glance to her daughter. “The only family we must concern ourselves with are those who live righteously, who honor the gods and the Seven Kingdoms with their actions. Us.”

Aemond bit his tongue. He did not disagree with his mother’s sentiment toward the Princess Rhaenyra, and her sons. They were bastards, and Rhaenyra, though she had been kind to him when he was young, had stood by Lucerys even when he cut out Aemond’s eye. Had not punished the boys when Aelinor was permanently maimed by a fire. He had no love for any of them.

He just considered Aelinor to be something different.

Aegon groaned loudly. “Can we just go? I don’t give a shit which bastards are marrying which whores, and—”

“What did you say?” Aemond demanded, crossing the room in a second. Aegon flinched back, pinned between the couch and his wife. Aemond itched to strike him, his hand curling into a fist.

“Aegon, that talk is beneath you.” Alicent said, though she did not correct it. “And Aemond, leave your brother be. The fool is drunk.”

Aemond sneered in disgust, able to smell the reek of ale off of his brother. His mother was right, Aegon was a fool.”

“The banquet will begin shortly,” Alicent said. “We must be there to receive the guests. And we are all expected to attend, and remain there, for the duration of the evening.”

From her tone, it was clear that there was nothing she wanted to do less than spend a night in revelry and celebration over the return of Princess Rhaenyra.

With exaggerated groans, Aegon peeled himself off the couch, stumbling out the door without waiting for his wife, who trailed meekly after him. Alicent caught Aemond’s arm before he could follow.

“I mean it, Aemond.” Alicent said quietly. “Remember who you are, and who she is.”

“I will, Mother.” He hesitated as he studied her face. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and her complexion appeared more sallow than usual. “You don’t look well, Mother. Is there something wrong?”

She sighed, giving his shoulder a quick pat. “I did not sleep well. Your father…he was restless all night.”

How many years had it been, that Aemond watched his mother slowly waste away as she cared for his father, as she tried to hold the Kingdoms together? For the King to have an ill night was the last thing she needed, especially with their visitors and all the activity to come in the next few days.

He gave a curt nod. “Then I shall be on my best behavior. And I shall endeavor to keep Aegon contained as well.”

************************************************************

The banquet was in full swing by the time Aelinor made her way to the hall. The dress they had chosen had required a few alterations to fit, and so she had told her family to go on ahead. Now she was regretting that choice, as it meant she would be entering the room by herself, instead of as part of her mother’s house.

Perhaps she could sneak in. It was always possible that, if the festivities had begun in earnest, she might sneak through the doors and find her way to her mother’s side without anyone noticing her. But alas, when she rounded the corner, the doors to the hall were shut firmly, two guards stationed on either side.

Muttering a curse under her breath, she slowed to a walk, barely managing to compose herself before the doors were being heaved open and a loud voice was proclaiming “The Princess Aelinor Velaryon!”

Three hundred faces stopped to stare at her, and she found it a little hard to breathe. Stepping through the door, she tried to scan the crowd for a familiar face. There, seated at the front of the hall next to an empty seat, was Queen Alicent, with Lord Otto Hightower at her side. Neither of their expressions were particularly welcoming. She could not see her mother, not among the dozens of people paused on the floor, clearly having been in the middle of a dance, nor could she see her or any of her brothers at the long tables that framed the room. She was on her own.

With a deep breath, she clasped her skirt in both hands, the black silk of her skirt crumbling beneath her fingers as she dipped into a small curtsy. Enough to show respect for the Queen, but not so much as would be owed to the King. She rose without wobbling, and then descended the steps as quickly as she could manage. There seemed to be an awkward pause, before she heard the sharp note of a fiddle and the musicians resumed.

Keeping to the edge, she tried to pick her way past the dancers as she searched for her family. Everywhere she turned a noble she did not recognize was offering a bow or a curtsy, usually with a quietly murmured “Princess”. She returned their greetings, but did not linger. Only hours ago she had been excited for the ball, for her chance to attend for the first time. How many times as a child had she hidden up in the rafters with Aemond, dreaming of joining the dancers down below? She glanced up, wondering if there were any young faces doing the same as she had once. But not it seemed only to be a crush of unfamiliar figures, and she longed for a spot of quiet.

“Princess Aelinor,” Someone stepped into her path. He was a small, spindly man with a cane at his side, and an unsettling smirk on his face. “You have much changed.”

His fingers twitched out, nearly catching the crimson chiffon of her sleeve. She took a step back, but was pressed against another stranger, this one ensconced in a conversation and unaware of how he was entrapping the princess.

“Forgive me, Sir.” Aelinor cleared her throat. “But have we met?”

“When you were very small, Princess.” He tilted his head. “And as I said, you have grown much.”

She did not like this man. “Might I have your name, Sir. I don’t—”

“Lina!” She could have wept to hear Aemond’s voice at her side. He emerged from the center of the dance floor, pushing through a dancing pair and coming to stand at her side. “I have been looking for you.”

“I’ve only just arrived. I was speaking to…” She turned around, only to find that the spidery man had vanished back into the crowd. “How odd.”

“Was someone bothering you?”

“No, it was only strange.” She tried to shake the interaction from her mind. “My, don’t you look every bit the handsome prince.”

Aemond shrugged, uncomfortable with the compliment. But it was the truth. Aelinor could not recall ever seeing him look so fine. His tunic was embroidered with gold thread, the rich green so dark that it was nearly black. His silver hair was smoothed back, falling over his wide shoulders.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked.

Aelinor glanced around, well aware that every person around them was only pretending not to eavesdrop. “I just arrived. I have not even—”

“Little Aelinor!” A hand landed on the small of her back. “I knew I would find you here.”

“Uncle.” She greeted Aegon with a polite curtsy, resisting the urge to shuffle away from his touch. “I trust you are well?”

His eyes drooped slightly as he appraised her. “All the better for seeing you.”

“Brother, I—” Aemond tried to cut in.

“Darling Niece,” Aegon continued. “Care to dance?”

There was no polite way to refuse an offer from a prince, especially not when it had been made so publicly.

“Of course, Uncle.” She set her good hand in his, shooting Aemond a look of apology. “Perhaps I shall see you later?”

“Oh, I’m certain he will make sure of it.” Aegon tugged her away, leading her right to the center of the floor.

Aelinor could feel the eyes following her as Aegon stopped them in the center of the floor, assuming the position for a quick four step, a dance she knew quite well. When she glanced to the side, she saw the Queen standing from her seat, disappearing into the crowd just as the musicians struck up a new song.

This particular dance was quite easy, involving two partners who moved around each other in a circle, occasionally clasping hands or jumping. It was ideal for chatting with a suitor, but unfortunately, Aelinor had no interest in chatting with Aemond, not when she could smell drink on his breath.

Aegon, for his part, did not seem overly interested in conversing. He moved through the steps lazily, clearly too drunk to execute them gracefully, but also too familiar to make a complete mockery of himself. Twenty couples moved around them, all of them completely silent, waiting to catch wind of what Prince Aegon and her might be discussing.

“How is Helaena?” Aelinor began, remembering her mother’s request to behave as if nothing was wrong. “I have not yet had the chance to speak with her.”

Aegon shrugged. “I’ve not seen her tonight.”

“No?” Aelinor frowned, before plastering a smile back on her face. “Well, then. Your children, how are they?”

“I have three of them.” Aegon said, clearly not overwhelmed with fatherly affection.

Aelinor tried to drum up some sympathy for her uncle. As long as she had known him, he had never thrived in the spotlight, nor had he been enthusiastic about wedding Helaena. But as someone who had never been drawn to the drink, Aelinor could not quite bring herself to forgive his inebriation.

“My brother,” Aegon drawled. “Seems unable to keep his eye off of you.”

Aelinor ignored the jibe. “I’m sure he’s just observing the dancing.”

“Or he’s fueling his obsession with you,” Aegon leaned forward conspiratorially. “Tell me, Niece. What do you see in my brother?”

His hands had curled almost painfully into her waist. The music ended and Aelinor snapped back, putting space between them.

“For one thing,” She hissed. “He’s not a drunken lech.”

Bobbing a curtsy, she left him on the floor. Unfortunately, she did not see Aemond in the crowd. Intending to resume the search for her mother, she moved toward the front of the room, only to nearly walk directly into the Queen.

“Your Majesty,” She curtsied, feeling like she had spent most of the evening bobbing up and down. “Forgive me, I did not see you there.”

Alicent held both hands in front of her, her red hair shining against the emerald of her gown. “Aelinor. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Aelinor nodded gratefully. She would not pretend that she had ever been friendly with Alicent, but the Queen had always been kind to her as a child.

“Did you enjoy your dance?” Alicent asked.

“I did,” Aelinor said too quickly. “It was…nice to see Aegon again.”

“Hm,” Alicent looked like she did not believe her. “Well, I’m glad. I think you’ll find it difficult to source another partner.”

“Your…your Majesty?”

Alicent leaned forward. “You look beautiful, Aelinor. But no one wishes to dance with a cripple.”

Aelinor recoiled, her mouth falling open as the Queen walked away. That was…that had been cruel. Overcome with shame, Aelinor adjusted her long sleeve so that it fell over her injured hand. She knew her hand unsettled people, but it did not make her a cripple. And she would never have expected something so malicious to come out of the Queen’s mouth.

“Aelinor! Are you alright?”

The crowd this evening just seemed to keep throwing conversations her way. Thankfully, this time it was Aemond, who placed one hand on her elbow.

“Aemond,” She said quietly.

“Was that my mother?” He asked. “Are you alright, you look pale.”

Aelinor shook her head. “I’m quite alright.”

“Would you care to dance with me?” He asked, looking a bit nervous. “If you…if you would like to.”

Aelinor glanced up at him. “I would love to, Aemond, But I should really find my family. I promised Jace a dance and I—”

Aemond frowned, and she remembered how he did not like to be reminded of her near-betrothal to Jace.

Two courtiers moved past, whispering as they did. Aelinor hid her hand further in her sleeve, the Queen’s jibe stinging sharply through her veins. “I can find them later. Let us dance.”

Aemond smiled, and she thought she heard someone nearby gasp as he took her hand and led her back to the floor. They took up a spot on the edge, and Aemond grasped her waist with one hand as the musicians began. This was a slower set, allowing them to whirl between other couples in time with the music. Aelinor was a bit lost in her thoughts, her mind swirling with the music and her conversation with the Queen.

“You’re hiding your hand,” Aemond whispered. “Why?”

“What?” Aelinor looked up. He was so much taller than her, so much that she had to tilt her head back to see his face.”Oh, I just…it looks better this way.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to care very much how it looks.” Aemond said. “After all, you are—”

The music stopped suddenly, and Aelinor spun a few more steps before they stopped. The guests were all turning to the dias, where Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, and their children stood in a neat line.

Aelinor tilted her head. “What are they doing?”

Queen Alicent was standing at the foot of the dias, her eyes wide as she stared up at the princess. It took only a few moments for the hall to fall completely silent, all eyes on Rhaenyra.

“We are grateful to everyone for being here today,” Rhaenyra said. “It has been wonderful to see so many familiar faces.”

The crowd murmured in approval.

“I think she’s just thanking the court,” Aelinor whispered, conscious of how Aemond’s hand still lingered at her back.

“And,” Rhaenyra continued. “I would like to take this opportunity to impart on the court an announcement that is sure to bring great happiness to us all.”

Jace stepped up to his mother’s side, and Aelinor felt her blood run cold. This was it. They were about to announce it to everyone, and then her fate would be sealed. She felt a few eyes turning her way, the rumor mill no doubt assuring that most courtiers could predict what this announcement may be.

“It gives me great job to announce the betrothal of my son Prince Jacaerys—”

Oh gods, here it was.

“And my son Prince Lucerys to the Princesses Baela and Rhaena. This joining of two great Valyrian houses will no doubt be a triumph for the realm.”

A thousand emotions flooded Aelinor, the foremost of them being shock. Jacaerys was betrothed to Baela? What did this mean? Her mother had never wavered in her intention to betrothe her two eldest children, and yet…she had just changed her mind before the entire court.

Jace held out a hand to Baela, both of them beaming as they descended to the floor for a dance.

Queen Alicent climbed the steps quickly, speaking in hushed tones to Rhaenyra as the room slowly resumed the party. Things made a bit more sense to Aelinor, then. The trial addressing Luc’s succession would take place the following day, and Rhaenyra had just assured that the Velaryons would support his claim. It would now be Vaemond standing against his own family, almost certainly guaranteeing them success.

But people were whispering, casting looks her way as they moved through the room. The dancing began anew, and yet she just stood there, Aemond by her side, trying to process what was happening.

“Cast aside—”

“The bastards are—”

“...betrothed to a cripple…”

It was all too much, and Aelinor turned quickly and rushed from the room. She shoved through the crowd, around one of the tables and out through one of the servant doors. She was barely aware of someone following until she felt Aemond’s hand on her arm.

“Lina, are you—”

A servant moved past, carrying a tray of sweetmeats, and he gave the Princess a concerned look.

Aemond turned to him and roared. “OUT! Now!”

******************************************************

The evening had not taken the turn that Aemond had expected. He had expected to endure a night of endless political preening, perhaps stealing a dance with Aelinor or his sister, and now he was huddled in a servants’ corridor, while Aelinor hid in the corner.

“I’m sorry,” she held a hand to her mouth. “I just….everyone was talking and I…I just couldn’t…”

“Take all the time you need,” Aemond assured her. “No one will bother you.”

In truth, he was seething inside. For a split second, he had been overjoyed. To know that Aelinor would not be marrying Jacaerys…if he were devout it would have been something he prayed for. But then he had watched the bastard lead his new betrothed into a dance, and he had seen how Aelinor’s face had fallen.

That bastard had cast her aside, her entire family had opened her up to scorn. As if the bastard even deserved Aelinor at all. No, he deserved nothing, but Aelinor certainly did not deserve to be publicly rejected in front of the court like that.

Aelinor was shaking her head. “Gods, she could have told me.”

“You did not deserve that,” Aemond hissed. “For him to gloat and—”

She held up a hand. “He was not gloating. He and Baela are well suited, and I am happy for them.”

She was too kind. Too generous. She would forgive them, she always would, just as she had forgiven them when they maimed her as a child. This was what happened when he wasn’t by her side, she was coerced into accepting this treatment from them, when she deserved far better.

“Perhaps I’ll get to go back to Dragonstone in peace,” She gave a small smile.

“You cannot allow—”

“Did you want me to marry Jace? Is that it?” She demanded. “Because after last night, I rather thought that you…that we…”

“That we were what?” Aemond stepped forward until her back was against the wall.

Aelinor sighed. “I don’t know, Aemond. Tonight has been overwhelming, and there are so many people here who I do not know. I just need to go back to Dragonstone, to people who understand me, and it will—”

Aemond reached up and ripped off his eye patch. “I understand you!”

Her lips parted as she stared up at him, at the blue gem that flickered in the torch light. Aemond’s chest was heaving with some kind of craze, and he knew he should step back. He had to, before he did something that both of them regretted. But nothing in him was strong enough to move away from her.

Slowly she lifted her injured hand, silk sleeves falling away as she let her fingertips trace the edges of his scar, inching closer to his eye.

“That’s my sapphire,” She breathed. “You…you actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” He lifted his hand to grasp hers. “How could you think that I don’t understand you?”

“I…that is not what I meant.” She whispered.

“I know,” He nodded. “And…I don’t mean to force your hand. You deserve better than your brother, and I won’t pretend that I am a better option. I only wanted you to see that I…that I have always…”

“Aemond…” She leaned closer.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Aemond wrenched himself away just as a servant came through carrying pitchers of wine. They waited until the servant had passed into the ballroom before speaking again.

“Thank you, Aemond.” Aelinor said, kneeling to the ground to pick up his eye patch. “Thank you for always being there.”

He couldn’t find the strength to speak as he took the eyepatch from her. Sighing, Aelinor stepped past, “And Aemond?”

“Yes?”

She gave him a small smile. “I do not think you should have to hide, either.”

Aemond watched her disappear through the door before retying his eye patch, making sure to cover his eye entirely. When he stepped back into the room, he saw Aelinor making her way toward her mother, but his eye sought out another.

On the dance floor, Jacaerys spun Baela in what must be their second or third dance. Aemond felt his blood boil. Aelinor might be willing to forgive, but he was not so generous.

Before the night was out, the bastard would answer to him.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team black #team green #aemond #aemond x oc #fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #fanfic #lady of the ashes

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murdocksdaughter · 2 years

Text

JACAERYS VELARYON SLEEPING/WAKING UP HEADCANONS

a/n: no this isn’t canon complainant at all but who cares its my page my rules and if i want happy targaryen family then i will have it

warning: none just mindless fluff and happy au where everyone is friends and holding hands

-dude is a straight star fish stomach sleeper

-like foot hanging off the bed, drooling, snoring

-teen boys man 😐😐

-jacaerys totally suffocates himself in his pillow

-face just flat in the pillow no room to breath

-no one knows how he is isn’t dead

-MESSY ASS MORNING HAIR

-has the worse cow lick

-speaking of mornings

-jace is not a morning person

-will sleep 14 hours straight

-like he will not wake up before noon unless he is woken up

-maybe by a servent

-mostly by luke

-he’s in villain era ™️

-luke is thrilled when he’s given permission to wake jace

-high key begs mama rhae to let him wake Jacaerys up

-RIP JACE FR

-he gets jumped on, smacked, whacked, poked, shoved, dragged, blanket stolen

-lukefaveistoshovejaceoffthebed

-fucking devil child

-and when luke recruits his uncles and baby joff to wake jace

-jace barely makes it out alive when its aemond and aegon waking him

-they are just torturing him

-“WAKE UPPPPPPP”

-“RISE AND SHINE PRINCY BOY”

-they screaming his ear

-smacking him, on the face leaving a hand print

-aegon giving a wet willy cause he’s gross (fr wtf is wrong with him

-rip jace personally i wouldn’t take that disrespect

-gets dragged to breakfast

-literally dragged like on the floor by his feet 💀

-luke kicking his head to keep him awake

-knocking on every step

-CONCUSSION??? HELLO??

-there is no care for this man’s safety

-i’m so sorry baby

-notreallyitskindafunny

-will fall asleep at the table

-like head back, lowkey snoring

-so me for that

-aegon chops his throat to wake him

-rip jace he can’t catch a break 💀💀

-also never wakes up his a shirt on

-he goes to bed with a shirt

-its gone by the morning

-“Jacaerys? Where is your shirt?”

-“Good question uhhh..”

-he throws it off halfway through the night

-he runs hot

-heater ass man

-anyways rip Jacaerys he struggling put here with luke on villain era

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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Sugar Mommy Rhaenyra Part iii

pronouns: they them (afab in series' smut) warnings: nsfw section but not neccessary divider: firefly-graphics A/N: sorry this might be a bit short, i have had some internet problems but i intend to write up a part 4 as well so i hope you still enjoy! :)

It's terrifying when one day Rhaenyra wakes up and she misses your embrace more than she's missed anything or anyone.

Even though Daemon is at her back, arms around her and dotting kisses up her neck, there something missing–or rather someone

but she ignores it, hoping she'll forget about it for awhile, she leans into him and keeps her eyes closed, pretending that it's your lap that her head lays in instead of the pillow while her fingers grasp at her husband's hair

you're in her head even at the Iron Corp. meeting, the picture of your splayed out hair and dilated pupils digging through her brain until it finds a soft sponge of affection to poke at

"Rhaenyra?"

"Hm?" Her head snaps up to look into Corlys Velaryon's piercing stare. He looms sceptical with a single brow raised while Daemon shifts worriedly beside her, squeezing her thigh. She blinks rapidly to dispel the wanton thoughts and releases a nervous chuckle

she ignores Alicent's interrogative frown, her slender hand wrapping in her own

It's terrifying when one day Rhaenyra wakes up and she misses your embrace more than she's missed anything or anyone.

Even though Daemon is at her back, arms around her and dotting kisses up her neck, there something missing–or rather someone

you're in her head even at the Iron Corp. meeting, the picture of your splayed out hair and dilated pupils digging through her brain until it finds a soft sponge of affection to poke at

"Rhaenyra?"

she ignores Alicent's interrogative frown, her slender hand wrapping in her own

all eyes dart to her, waiting, for what? she has no idea

Alicent leans into her ear, warm breath coaxing, "What do you think of Corlys' excellent proposal on stocks, Rhae?"

Rhaenyra clears her throat and nods, "Yes, yes, I think that if we..."

she has to shake herself awake after the board meeting, she can't think of anything but those doe eyes and your saccharine smile

so sweet just for her

she stares at her phone and bites her lips, it's been three days since Jace almost caught you both and you've definitely been avoiding her

she admires your loyalty but if you don't respond in the next to hours she might lose her mind...and so she makes the first desperate move

typing and retyping before eventually taking a deep breath

only her plans are foiled but not unwelcome when a familiar name enlightens her screen.

her eyes drink in the text with a relieved desperation

it's in seconds that she arranges a reply in agreement and bustles Daemon out of the house, luckily Harwin has the kids this week, inviting Aegon and Viserys for a sleepover

for the first time in a long while that you're staying in together

so she lets you in, you're wearing that stunning set of clothes she bought you (even the shimmering earrings)

and a long talk ensues

you set your new terms for this relationship and she's pleasantly surprised

you want to tell Jace

you can't keep it from him any longer and you won't

she's hesitant but agrees, taking your hand in hers and kissing the knuckles softly

"No more hiding." she promises you with a smile on her face

with the newfound vow, she squeezes you hand and guides you upstairs

a week passes before as usual, you arrive with Jace at his mum's place and absolutely trembling.

he pulls up and instantly grasps your shaking hand in his, piercing eye contact set on you

"What's wrong?" he asks instantly "Nothing," "Come on, I'm serious, you've been weird since you got that job. Be honest with me," His brows furrow and he squeezes your hands. He lowers his voice. "Is anyone harassing you because I'm not above walking down there right now and–" "No, no!" You assure him with wide eyes and a chuckle bubbling. "It's nothing like that I've just been..." You bite your lip as his stare deepens "I've been seeing someone." You relent anxiously and he visibly sighs in relief "Thank the Gods." He grins then nudges your side. "You better tell me all about them on the way back because I was pretty sure that you were gonna rock up to a nunnery sooner or later I don't think I've seen you talk about a date since Margaery Tyrell." You roll your eyes but it feels good to get off your chest, at least a little bit. You scoff "Yeah well maybe I like to keep my private life private." You tease and he instantly gapes in offence. "Hey I am...private." "You literally blurted about dating Sara in the middle of English." "Well that was an unfortunate lapse of judgement." Giggles pop from the both of you as the tranquil security settles over you both once more

when you slip through the front door, you tense again

Jace is bound to notice that there is a severe lack of his family other than his mother waiting impatiently in front of him, eager to demand an embrace and awkwardly shuffling him to the dining room

you both share a wary glance

Taglist (comment here to be added, bold italics means you need to check your settings, i couldn't tag you):

@chompchompluke @its-actually-minicika @harrenhalhottie @imarimon

Hotd Taglist: (bold italics means you need to check your settings, i couldn't tag you)

@hopelesswritergall @wrendermedone

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c0ffeebee · 3 years

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illustration commissioned by lovely @alteregonfiction for their story Winds of Change: Autumn Storms [chapter 8] 💙

Alec poked at it with one finger. "Move a bit, Jace," he said. "I don't need much space, but I do need a little." To his surprise, Jace actually did move, giving Alec a spot that was just large enough to slide into without lying on the edge and spending the night in danger of falling off. He had no experience with the casual sharing of beds, and it wasn't like Jace was really awake anyway. The safest course of action was probably to just lie there and do nothing other than be present… Jace did a half turn, fitting his body against Alec's as if his brother were a wall between him and whatever was lurking in his dreams, giving all the shelter he needed. He hadn't let go of Clary's hand, and she'd moved with him, hugging him from behind now and resting the side of her face against his shoulder. It was a strange experience, though far from as unpleasant as he'd expected. Alec made his body relax. "Good night, everyone." "Good night, Alec," Clary told him. She sounded sleepy, her voice muffled because she was talking around Jace. "Good night," a third voice echoed theirs, followed by what might have been the ghost of a relieved sigh. The room was very silent after that.

|| ko-fi || society6 || patreon || teepublic || instagram || twitter ||

#clace #claceedit #alec lightwood #aleclightwoodedit #jace herondale #jaceherondaleedit #clary fray #claryfrayedit #shadowhunters #shadowhuntersedit #my stuff #my art and photomanipulations

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mandogab · 3 years

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Day 18 – Flying

Pairing: Atinla Kryze (OC) & Jacen Syndulla

Word Count: 603

tag: @starwars-oc-ship-week

"What could be worse than being in love with a girl who is a Mandalorian?" Rune laughed, poking Jacen on the shoulder as he walked past him on his way to ship. His friend rolled eyes as he continued working on the X-wing.

“Not to have someone to fall in love with?” Jacen asked, smiling more to himself than Rune. He could only imagine the grumpy expression on the face of the other pilot.

“Very funny,” he replied. “I prefer to focus my attention on the flight, and not look for a lost little owl.”

“Who are you calling the lost little owl, Rune?”

They both turned, hearing the girl's voice coming from somewhere in the hangar. Atin approached them with her usual gait, helmet tucked under her arm and a cheeky smirk on her lips. She was wearing an armor that had a new paint job, though there were still Nite Owl's marks on her forearms… she had never changed that.

“Atin! It's great that you are there! Jacen wondered where you disappeared,” Rune said happily as he walked over to his friend, then threw his arm around Jace's neck in a friendly gesture.

“We had an appointment, I couldn't help but come.” She smiled. “Ready?”

“S-sure,” Jacen muttered, staring after her as she passed by. He watched her for a moment longer before Rune hit him on the side.

“Just go now,” he muttered, then walked away and he sent a kiss for Jacen as he left. The boy rolled his eyes.

“Jace, we don't have all day,” Atin's voice called back through the comm.

“Sure, I'm on my way!” He said, hopping into his X-wing.

- - -

Jacen kept to Atin's left, maneuvering at breakneck speed between the asteroids the girl absolutely wanted to fly through. She loved to take risks, since he'd met her, he probably hadn't met anyone so brave and talented. He knew that one day she would become one of the best pilots and perhaps stand by his side. Perhaps they would fly in the same squadron... it would be his dream come true.

“Stay awake, Jace!” Sixteen-year-old yelled when he didn't turn around. He quickly awoke from his daydreams and steered the rudders sideways to avoid the huge obstacle. Atin's laughter rang out in the small cockpit. “You have head in the clouds.”

“I'm thinking of you,” he muttered quietly enough that she couldn't hear him (at least, he thought).

- - -

“I'm thinking about you.” She heard his quiet voice and felt herself blushing.

He was her best friend, an old companion, and one of the most promising pilots she'd ever had the chance to fly with. She loved spending time with him and talking to him. He always tried to steer her thoughts away from the dark parts of her past. He knew what he shouldn't ask and what was appropriate.

Sometimes she imagined what her life would be like if he were an eternal part of it... She hoped to find out someday.

“Can we have a race?” She asked.

“Only if you don't cheat, little owl!”

She smiled.

- - -

Jacen watched Atin's ship warm up the engines, he could imagine this girl focused on getting off to a good start. He let her take off first, even though he knew that catching up with her would be bordering on miraculous.

All he wanted to do for a moment was watch her Fang fighter fly right in front of him.

Jacen knew that if he could, he would give her all the stars. On this day, he could give her the win.

#star wars oc ship october #star wars fanfiction #Atinla Kryze / Jacen Syndulla #atin kryze #jacen syndulla #teenage love #jatin #oc x canon #mandalorian girl / jedi boy #rune - jacen's best friend

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kaidans-alenko · 3 years

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So @fshenkoescape sent me a lovely message asking about Rose and Alex’s past and while I had it planned out it finally motivated to write it down. So thank you! (✿◠‿◠) I might do a part two cause I have enough material but for now enjoy <3

Rose’s knees hit the floor with a thud, her mind racing as she tried to process what Anderson had just told her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Jace was...dead? “How? what happened?”

“There was a thresher maw, it wiped out his entire unit. I’m sorry Rose.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking deep breaths to keep her tears at bay.

Her mother came around the corner “Rosie?” she glanced at Anderson and then her daughter, getting down on the floor next to her “what’s wrong sweetheart?”

Rose turned to look at her, head hung “Jace he…” she threw her arms around her mom, crying into her shoulder.

“Oh...Rosie, I'm so sorry” she whispered, rocking her gently. Without her having to say much else she was able to put two and two together.

“The Alliance will aid with any funeral arrangements but for now I'll take my leave.” Anderson said, frowning. He hated delivering this kind of news but he was close with Rose’s mother and by extension Jace. It didn’t feel right to let someone else do it.

“Thank you Anderson.” Her mother responded and he nodded, closing the door as he left. Rose’s sobs following him out.

-----------------

Alex peered into her bedroom, it had been about a month since he’s last seen her and he was starting to miss her. Sometimes his grandma would bring her into the kitchen and make her eat something but even then he barely recognized her. The kind blue eyes she possessed were now dull and lifeless with dark circles under them. Her blonde hair usually pulled into a tight bun was a tangled mess. No one had really gone into too much detail about what happened, all he knew was his dad wasn’t coming back.

They had something that his grandparents called a funeral for him and since then his mom hadn’t been the same. “Mommy?”

He was met with silence and he figured she might’ve been sleeping until she eventually spoke up “Yeah baby?”

“Will you watch a vid with me?” He asked.

Rose wanted to, she knew she’d been neglecting him recently and she felt awful but she couldn’t drag herself out of bed. She thought her son should be enough to give her a reason to but when she looked at him she only saw her husband. It wasn’t fair to Alex and the guilt ate at her, only making her depression worse.

“I’m not feeling up to it right now, I'm sure your grandparents will though.”

Alex’s face fell “oh...okay.” walking away he went to find his grandmother, she had asked him to be patient with Rose and he was trying but he missed her. He didn’t mean to sound selfish but he hoped she got better soon, he wanted his mom back.

Rose woke up as the sun had gone down that night and reached for the picture of Jace she kept on her nightstand. It had started as some shore leave fling and she wasn’t entirely convinced it wouldn’t have stayed that way had Alex not come along. Not that either of them regretted it.

Rose ran her fingers down the front of the frame staring at it for a long while before getting up and walking to her closet, searching for the pink dress she knew he liked on her and she could almost hear his voice as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“You know I think that’s my favorite dress on you.” he said and grabbed her waist to turn her around eliciting a laugh from her.

“You say that about all my dresses.” she said.

“And I mean it each time.” he told her, kissing her forehead.

Rose watched her tears fall as the memory played in her head, turning around, she left the room and snuck downstairs. She wanted to see him again and she knew her parents would try and stop her.

There was an ocean not too far from here, where he proposed to her, she could still visualize it. Alex had just been born and the three of them were on a walk, he apologized for being so late but she didn’t care. They didn’t have to get married or anything like that, she just wanted to be with him.

Rose gripped the railing and looked out into the water, it’d be so easy to join him. She’d no longer feel this emptiness in her chest, the loneliness that suffocated her. It’d be so damn easy to just rid herself of all it.

“Mom, look!” She heard a child the same age as her son call for their mother, pointing excitedly at the seagulls flying overhead. Snapping her out of her grief induced haze.

Sometimes when it was nice out they’d get ice cream and talk a walk around here. They hadn’t done it in a while. In fact they haven’t done much of anything together in a while. He had tried, but she always turned him down. Like today, all he wanted was to watch a vid but she couldn’t even bring herself to do that with him.

Jace hadn’t just left her alone he’d left Alex behind too, he was probably just as sad as she was but not once had she checked up on him. She’d left it to her parents. Even though the person he probably needed most was her.

Alex sat in the living room, his grandfather snoring in his recliner as a baseball game played on their small vid screen.

“Alex!” he turned around at the sound of his mother’s voice, watching as she panted heavily in the doorway.

“Mom?” Rose walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry Alex.” she sobbed into his shoulder, alerting her father awake.

He and Alex shared a concerned glance and Alex wrapped his small arms around her. It's been a while since she's held him and he didn't quite know the circumstances but he missed her too much to question it.

He could only reach the ends of her hair but it didn't stop him from stroking it like she always did when he would cry because of a nightmare "it's okay mom."

Rose pulled away and pressed their foreheads together “I’m going to get better okay? Then we can watch all the vids you want and go to baseball games. I promise.”

She couldn’t help but feel manipulative, neglecting him only to come back in tears apologizing. Her only hope was he’d forgive her.

-------------------------------------------

Rose returned from ballet practise, head hung, it was a decision she made for herself but it was still disappointing after all the hard work she’d put in since she was kid. “Hey mom.” Rose called, poking her head into the kitchen.

“Oh welcome back Rosie,” her mother greeted from where she stood in front of the stove “how was practise?”

“It was uh….it was fine.” she set her bag on a chair and leaned back against the counter “that’s what I needed to talk to you about actually.”

Her mother turned the heat down and turned to her “Oh?”

Rose looked down at the floor “I gave up my spot.” she said softly, shocking her mother.

“What? Why?” No matter how stressed or down she had felt in the past, ballet had always been her escape.

“Well, and you might want to sit down for this one mom,” she warned and took a deep breath “I'm going to join the alliance.” it wasn’t what she wanted and she wasn’t a biotic like Jace. Hell she might not be any good and get kicked out but she had to do something to provide for Alex. It’s not like she could rely on her parents forever.

#rose shepard #alex shepard

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greekgeek21 · 3 years

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Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - there is a fight scene included

I am not dead, just extremely busy. My summer lacrosse season just ended, so hopefully I get some inspiration to write some new chapters. In the meantime, I hope this will tide you over for some time.

Keep in mind, this was written weeks ago, so I am not in the mood to answer any weirdly specific questions about my artistic choices. In other words, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it! I know, it's a truly monumental realization.

For my kind & loyal readers, don't forget to comment, like, and follow!

- your author

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Avengers or PJO!

Ω ♆ Ω

By the grace of the gods, the group managed to pass the sirens without an issue. It seemed like the mortals had finally accepted that it was in their best interest to listen to the Seven. So, as soon as Percy warned everyone to fill their ears with wax, they filled their ears with wax. Of course there were a few complaints, but that was expected. Nobody was perfect (no matter what Narcissus insists).

From there on out, the nerves were building. Percy had informed the team that their next stop would be Polyphemus' island, and everybody, mortal and demigod alike, knew what that place was. It was where the most infamous cyclops lived, but most importantly, it was where Annabeth was being held, if Percy's father was to be trusted.

Since it would still be another two hours or so, according to the sea expert, until they reached the island, the group decided to try resting. Some tried to nap, while others sharpened their weapons or hung out on the deck. It was futile, but they were trying to prepare themselves for a situation that they had never before encountered, not even Percy.

It was safe to say that everyone was scared shitless.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo had decided to go downstairs and tinker with some stuff from his belt as a distraction from their impending doom. It was working too! He was in his own little world that only machines could enter. That is, until Tony Stark walked up to him.

"Whatcha doing, kid?" he asked, peering over Leo's shoulder to catch a glimpse at the boy's creation.

"I'm making a mini automaton to help us find Annabeth when we get to the island," was the answer.

Taking a closer look, Tony started to see it. It was a very small machine, but if you looked closely, it was clear that it was made of metal. The automaton was about the size of a quarter, and looked like a celestial bronze spider. Leo was currently adding the last two legs to it when Tony walked up.

When Leo looked up, he held up his creation with a proud smile. "This baby can be our spy. It's eyes are tiny cameras, and it's made almost completely of celestial bronze. We can send this in, and then know where Annabeth is before we storm the place."

Tony nodded, "Yeah... Pretty good idea, kid."

And ok, so Leo was freaking out a little bit on the inside because one of his idols had just complimented his work. But on the outside, he just smiled a little wider.

"You haven't even seen the best part. You've gotta see it after I turn it on. I added stealth-mode so nobody should even be able to know it's there," Leo said, grabbing the spider and flipping it over to press a button.

As soon as he had, the spider flipped itself over in his hand and started crawling up his arm. Tony was a little creeped out, but it was blocked by the fascination for this new kind of science the demigods had. The spider should have to be controlled by a human, but it was moving like it was almost...thinking on its own. There was no way it had an AI, but that was the only solution his mortal brain could come up with.

"Is it an AI?" he asked.

"Nope. It's a greek automaton. They don't need AIs. I programmed it to listen to a few simple commands when needed, but if we don't order it around, it'll just stick around me waiting for orders. Pretty cool, right?"

"Awesome," Tony whispered, in awe of how smart this seventeen year old kid was.

"Thanks. I think I finished it just in time because I heard Percy calling us back upstairs," Leo said. Before he had even finished he was walking towards the deck, not a care in the world for the metal spider crawling around on him.

"Oh, I'm definitely becoming friends with this kid," Tony muttered to himself before following Leo.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Did you get it done, Leo?" Percy asked as soon as he had seen him.

"Yep. Here it is." Leo held up the automaton-spider.

Percy smirked. "Oh, Annabeth's gonna love that."

Leo shrugged, acting clueless. "I have no idea what you're talking about. The spider was just the first thing I could come up with."

"Sure it was," Piper snorted.

Leo fake-gasped. "Beauty Queen! How could you ever think I would lie?! I would never!"

Clint whispered to Natasha, "The kids clearly have a strong bond that only comes from fighting for their lives with each other."

Frank turned to them, surprising the spies that he had heard them, "No shit, Sherlock."

Before anything else could be said, Percy reclaimed the entire group's attention. "If you look to the right, you can see Polyphemus' island. We're going to dock on the south side of the island because that is the only way to get on without climbing a cliff and facing carnivorous sheep. Hazel should be able to disguise the ship until we invade the base, so don't worry about being seen. Leo will send in his spider to check things out and then we'll follow after we know where Annabeth is. Everybody got that?"

At the noises of affirmation, Percy nodded. "Good. Suit up if you're not already."

Of course, Tony had to break the calm solemnity by saying, "Cap, I thought that was your line?"

Everybody collectively rolled their eyes.

Ω ♆ Ω

After they docked, Leo released his spider with specific orders to find Annabeth Chase while staying hidden. That was working until Polyphemus' stupid super-senses could smell the celestial bronze. Leo hadn't known that a blind cyclops would be able to smell metal, but you learn something new everyday, right?

The spider lasted all of five minutes in the cave before Polyphemus smelled it and crushed it under his giant smelly foot. Percy had thought that the cyclops would take longer to reform, but when had he ever been that lucky? Something that completely baffled him was how the mortals got him to not eat them. The dude had been pretty desperate for food the last time Percy had run into him, so how had the weird boss guy gotten him to hold off?

The only thing he could think of for them to feed him would be...nope! He's not going there right now.

The last thing the spider had transmitted to the group was a picture of a mortal holding a gun to Annabeth's head while she was gagged and chained. It made his blood boil.

"I'm going to kill them," He growled, starting to get off the boat and storm the place.

Jason stepped in front of him before he could, "Easy, Perce. You don't know what you're walking into. They want you to go in half-cocked, so we can't give them that. You know Annabeth can handle herself, so just take a breath and we'll figure out a plan."

Percy took a shaky breath, but it did nothing to cool his anger.

"Jace, if you don't step out of my way in the next two seconds, I will be forced to move you, and trust me, you don't want me to do that."

The son of Jupiter stood his ground, "I'm not moving. I know you Percy. Hurting me would go against your fatal flaw. I'm your best friend; your family. I know you would never intentionally hurt me."

Jason glanced over at the rest of the group, who hadn't dared to move if it upset Percy even more. The guy was a ticking time bomb, and they needed to defuse it before it went off and destroyed any chance of getting Annabeth back safely.

Percy almost looked in pain as he spoke his next words, "Jason, I love you. You're my cousin, but Annabeth is my everything. I will hurt you to get to her."

Jason sighed, expecting that answer. "Then at least let us come with you on your suicide mission. I'm not letting you die without me."

"Fine, but hurry up. I'm leaving now," and Percy shoved past Jason and started the trek up to Polyphemus' cave.

Jason turned to the others, who were all staring after Percy with shocked expressions. "Well you heard him! Move your asses!"

That seemed to startle them awake. Everyone but Bruce started moving.

Ω ♆ Ω

By the time the team had been able to catch up to Percy's fast pace, he had already reached the nearest entrance to the cave. It was a dark, narrow path that had walls of rock on either side reaching up for hundreds of feet.

"This is the part in the horror movies where I start screaming at the tv to not go in there and they still go in there," Piper whispered.

They were all just staring at the darkness, and it was getting awkward. For someone who was so hasty to get to Annabeth, Percy was sure taking a long time to get there.

"Are we gonna go in or..." Tony said.

Percy sighed. "Yeah. We're going in. Just don't separate from the group."

He led the way into the cave with Steve right behind him. Percy appreciated having someone else who could take some of the responsibility off his shoulders. Almost his entire time in the godly world, he had been expected to be the leader because of his father, and he had stepped up, but that doesn't mean it didn't weigh on him. Annabeth was the only one who had been able to help him with the stress, and without her, he was losing it. He had already been barely hanging onto his control over his powers, but now without her, what he was doing could barely be called control. It was more like holding back a rampaging bull with a string.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves hiding behind the wall that led to the room where the gang was waiting. Just as the spider had shown them, Annabeth was kneeling under the gang leader's feet while he held a gun to her head.

She looked murderous, so at least something was still normal in the world.

Steve poked his head around and gave a quick scan of the room before turning back to them, "Ok so we've got at least ten humans, with five monsters. One of the monsters is as tall as a building so I think he's the largest threat. Tony, Clint, Nat, and I will deal with the humans if you guys handle the monsters. The main priority is getting Annabeth to safety. Percy, that's your job."

Saying that last bit was just to clarify for everyone else, though they looked like they didn't need to hear it. Percy had a determined look on his face, one that said he wasn't going to allow anyone else to have his assignment.

"You got it, boss," Tony remarked. "Do you just want to storm in there?"

Before he could get an answer, Percy charged into the room, leaving his friends entirely unshocked, but the Avengers were looking a little mad.

"Don't worry, plans aren't really his thing. Even if we do make them, they never go our way. It's better to go with the flow when fighting with Percy," Hazel reassured, and then turned to follow her godly cousin. The rest of the Seven followed, leaving the Avengers to just stare at each other in confusion.

"I like their style," Tony said before flying into the room.

Natasha sighed. "I'm really starting to regret meeting these kids."

Clint smirked at her before leaving, closely followed by Steve and the Black Widow herself. For all three of them, everything about this mission was against their nature, but there wasn't much they could do about it. They were in unknown territory with a group of newly-allied teens and no backup. It was a shitshow before they had even left.

Ω ♆ Ω

Frank was fighting a dracaena, and it was making it super annoying. The thing would not stop talking about grocery stores. It was quite distracting when trying to kill it.

"Seriously! Can you believe how nobody can see how bad those chains are?!" it exclaimed.

Frank sighed, ready for it to be over. Whenever he would try to stab it, it would just slither away right at the last second, all the while continuing to complain.

He decided to use his shapeshifting abilities to catch the thing off-guard. In reality, he could probably deal with it in seconds, but when he really used his inner son of Mars, it drained him. He needed to save his strength if he was going to fight Polyphemus.

Speaking of, so far, the cyclops had stayed out of the fighting. He was just sitting on his throne made of rock, picking at his teeth with what Frank really hoped wasn't a human bone.

Frank changed into a squirrel for a second, climbing up onto the back of the dracaena with the animal's speed and before the monster could react, he changed back into a human and stabbed it through the back with his spear.

"Huh. I guess you can shut up," he remarked as the monster turned into dust.

After, Frank turned to help Hazel take down an empousa. She had already defeated four before that, so it was a pretty easy fight. He had been keeping an eye on her throughout his fight. Sure, he trusted she could take care of herself, but it was also his job to watch her back.

"Thanks," Hazel told him with a quick peck on the cheek after they finished.

Believe it or not, that kiss on the cheek was a major improvement. It had been a real adjustment for Hazel to learn how couples expressed affection nowadays, and it had taken even longer to start showing it herself. It helped that Frank preferred words over touch, too.

"No problem."

Ω ♆ Ω

"Get some, térata!" Leo screamed, running up to the manticore and sending giant, continuous blasts of fire at it.

He had heard of Dr. Thorn from Nico, Percy, and Annabeth before, and had somehow retained the knowledge that it was extremely durable on the outside. That meant that he had to think smart in order to beat it.

So far, Leo was distracting it and holding it off with his fire while he thought of a plan. However, he could only hold it off for so long. He would eventually tire out.

Come on, Leo, THINK!

Then it hit him.

It was so simple! He had been told the story of how the Nemean lion was defeated at Camp. Now usually, he would totally ignore any schooling he was given, but the stuff they were taught at Camp was much more interesting than algebra. So yeah, he remembered some stuff.

So, he decided that his best shot at beating Dr. Thorn was landing a large enough hit inside of him. That meant he had to figure out a way to get him to open his mouth. That wasn't really the hard part, though. The hard part was figuring out how to not die when he had to get closer to the monster.

"Estoy jodido..." he muttered before taking a step forward, never once stopping his assault on the beast.

The Manticore didn't seem to be moving back from the intensity, but rather reveling in the fact that he hadn't gained one burn from the fight. He was just waiting out Leo.

That was not a fun revelation for the son of Hephaestus to have.

And that was when the thorns started attacking him. He should've been expecting it, really. The guy had a tail of poisonous thorns and he hadn't used it yet? Something should've registered in his mind. But that was past-Leo's mistake. Present-Leo had to deal with the super tall, scary, poisonous, and royally pissed-off greek monster in front of him.

Dr. Thorn let out a war cry and swung his tail around, releasing a line of spikes at Leo, who managed to just barely duck out of the way. He was not keen on becoming swiss cheese!

"Ok. It's time to end this." Leo sighed in annoyance, jumping back up and charging.

He swung his battle hammer up and lit it on fire, deciding that he might as well stick with the common theme of stupid ideas. He managed to keep dodging attacks all the way up until he was within ten feet of the manticore. Then, he threw his weapon at the monster, praying to Apollo for good aim. He had fixed the sun chariot plenty of times, so the god had to owe him at least one favor.

Once again, Leo's stupid demigod luck kicked in and the hammer somehow embedded itself in the monster's mouth, which had been opened in a prideful roar. Honestly, the son of Hephaestus didn't know HOW he did it, just that it worked.

With the distraction of having a flaming hammer in his mouth, Dr. Thorn didn't see Leo running up with his arms raised and prepared to fire. By the time he did, it was too late because long blasts of fire were flying straight towards his open mouth.

The monster was able to mutter a silent curse before he disintegrated into dust, once again sent to Tartarus.

"Take that, bitch."

Ω ♆ Ω

Piper was absolutely sure the Fates were laughing at her. They had to be. There was no way that she just happened to be stuck with the two empousa. It didn't help that Jason was struggling to not drool over the girls. She just had to keep chanting in her head that the monsters were using their charm powers on him, and he was not actually attracted to the disgusting things.

After the two monsters tried to both swipe at her at the same time, she growled and shouted, "Jason! Get your head in the game and come help me!"

He had been blinking and shaking his head for the past two minutes and it was getting quite frustrating to have these donkey-cyborg-vampires ganging up on her with no back-up. Once this was over, she was going to make Jason work to get back in her good graces.

With just a little bit of her charmspeak added into her order, Jason was finally able to break free from the empousai's spell. He quickly willed his gladius to be a javelin and launched it through one of the monsters, which made it explode into a shower of golden dust. A traitorous part of Piper's brain insisted on calling that move hot, but she was able to school her expression back into a scowl before her boyfriend could notice.

The other empousa let out a shriek and said, "You MONSTERS! That was my sister! I'll make you pay for that!"

They only had a second to appreciate the irony before she launched herself at them with even more fervor than before, fueled by the rage of losing her "sister."

Jason couldn't help but notice how she was wearing a cheerleading costume. It was very ripped and destroyed, but it was clearly a cheerleading uniform. And as he was deflecting her claws, the ADHD part of his brain realized that the logo on the uniform was for Goode High School, Percy's old school. He almost wanted to laugh when he remembered the story of Kelli, an empousa acting as a cheerleader during Percy's freshman orientation. Percy had always said the monster had a nasty habit of coming back quickly, but Jason had just thought it was an exaggeration. But no, he and Piper were really fighting Kelli, one of Percy's recurring monsters.

It would be hilarious later, truly. But for now, he had to actually kill the thing.

Kelli had backed off when she realized that attacking out of rage wasn't going to work against two experienced demigods, and that also gave Jason and Piper a chance to make a plan themselves.

"Got any ideas?" he asked Piper.

She grinned with a terrifying amount of murderous glee. "I thought you'd never ask."

And then she told him her plan, which was essentially just using him as bait while she got to do all the killing. The prideful Roman part of him wanted to insist on him killing it, but he managed to reign that in when he saw the look on Piper's face. She was not asking, she was telling. Who was he to say no, especially after he hadn't been able to fully resist the empousai's charm?

A scary thought told him he was turning into Percy. He brushed that off for later nightmares.

"Come get me, bloodsucker!" He shouted, raising his arms up in a taunting manner. If he was acting like Percy, might as well go all the way right?

With yet another shriek, Kelli stormed at Jason, completely disregarding the daughter of Aphrodite that was stepping back and preparing to literally stab the monster in the back with her dagger.

Sometimes Jason wonders how a creature could be so stupid. Their plan was so obvious!

It went off without a hitch, technically. Piper let the empousa get a little too close for comfort before she killed it, but he trusted her to get the job done and she came through. Kelli had been prepped and ready to bite into his neck right before she exploded into dust.

It was one Hades of a trust exercise, that's for sure.

"Please don't let it get that close next time, Pipes," he breathed out while he put away Juno's Gladius.

Piper gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Not a chance, Superman."

Ω ♆ Ω

Considering the circumstances, the Avengers weren't doing half-bad. They were actually fairing pretty well. They knew how to deal with humans, so their job wasn't that hard. The only difficulty was that there were four of them and ten of the bad guys. They were sorely outnumbered.

Currently, Steve was fighting two at once, with a third opponent already knocked out a few feet away. He was blocking one with his shield while punching the other in the face. He then switched roles, instead kicking the first attacker and driving his shield into the gut of the second. The one he gutted gasped and fell to the ground, and was knocked unconscious was a simple hit to the temple. While he was distracted with taking down his partner, the still-conscious bad guy recovered from the kick and was able to land a hit to the back of Steve's head. Clearly, the fighter had been prepared to have achieved some form of disorientation from the Captain, but all he got was a pissed-off Avenger.

"That tickled."

It took less than five seconds for Steve to take him down after that.

Natasha also started with three adversaries. Key word being 'started.' It had taken barely any time to take down the first two. And all she had to do for the third was a scissor kick and hold until he passed out. She had just finished doing that when a call from Clint got her attention.

"Nat!" he shouted.

She turned on instinct and threw a throwing knife at the person running up behind her straight into their chest. They stopped with shocked features before falling to the ground in a heap, dead weight pushing the knife even further in and no doubt killing them faster.

"Getting rusty, Clint?" she teased, throwing a look over at her friend.

"No," he defended. "I'm just making sure you're not getting rusty!"

The archer hadn't realised one of his two attackers had sneaked off to go after the "bigger threat." He would never let Nat know he thought she was the bigger threat, though. That would be fueling an ego he knew was somewhere deep down in her.

Tony had been given two people to fight as well, and he was doing pretty well. He had the obvious advantage of being in the air, so all the gang members he was fighting could do was try to shoot at him with their guns, and his armor was designed to withstand a nuclear bomb. Bullets weren't gonna do much damage.

"Guys, seriously, we should just talk this out. We both KNOW I'm going to be knocking you both out in five seconds, so why don't you surrender instead? It'll be so much easier for the both of us!" he said, raising his hands and readying his repulsors.

As expected, the bad guys didn't show any sign of slowing down their useless attack on him. With a roll of his eyes and an obnoxious sigh, Iron Man shot them both in the chest, knocking them out cold.

"That felt too easy. Did that feel too easy to you?" He asked the other Avengers as they gathered back together.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Tony," Natasha said, "That fight was too good to be true."

Now that the truth had been revealed to them, the Avengers could blame what happened next on the Fates.

Ω ♆ Ω

There it is! I hope you liked it

other chapters :)

#pjo #Percy Jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #avengers #marvel #mcu #heroes #superheroes #fanfic #ff #ao3 #wattpad #inkitt #webnovel

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kingburu · 4 years

Text

[FIC] Birb Funeral

Someone asked me a long time ago what would happen if in the Dearly Departed universe (where Jason is a Son of Hades and Nico is a Son of Jupiter, and everyone is conveniently where I wanted to place them) what would happen if Bianca ended up in Camp Jupiter and Nico ended up in Camp Halfblood. I wrote this a while back for funsies and probably won’t expand, but take an au of an au!

tl;dr: Godswap AU where Jason is a Son of Hades, Nico is a Son of Zeus, and they grew up as childhood friends!

A storm hits first. In twelve-year-old Jason’s ten years at Camp Halfblood, he’s never seen anything as abrasive and harsh as the dark clouds that consumes all winter sunlight, dimming the heavens as though he’s staring at his father’s domain itself. Thunder and lightning boom like a commandeering force, and the rain rattles against the magical barrier around Camp Halfblood, like pelting against hollow tin, but falls on campgrounds like a soft shower.

It rains for three days straight, weakening Hestia’s hearth, cancelling Capture the Flag, and irritating all of the Apollo Cabin, who grow antsy without the sun. Jason is nonplussed by the storm, comforted by the additional shadows that linger—but he’s never quite liked the silence it forced in Cabin Eleven. The silence that used to be comforting, but now hurts as he has to look at the empty bed—the one that reminds him his own chest feels empty, too.

On the third day, the eagles appear.

Jason’s already awake, inspecting the other demigods without cabins of their own as he hears the righteous call of three bald eagles flying through the forest. Other campers wake to their squawk, if not the thunderous storm as it seems to boom louder and demand their attention.

Then, a little boy appears through the forest, sopping wet and looking meager and small as he wobbles through the trees, with a nest of dark hair and bright blue eyes that reminds Jason of the days before the storm. He’s dressed in a ratty pair of jeans, caked in monster blood and—other blood, that immediately worries Jason—and a bright shirt with a lotus symbol on it. The eagles cry out again, encircling the little boy, and flank to either side of him like royal guards.

Jason jumps as those blue eyes scan their small crowd—widening as they make contact with Chiron—but then turns to him.

One of the eagles nudges the little boy, who stumbles forward.

“This,” the little boy says curiously, “is Camp Halfbird, right?”

Halfbird, Jason thinks, puzzled, and he swears he sees both eagles puff their chests out with pride. He doesn’t get to contemplate long—of all the people that are surrounding this little boy, those blue eyes are fixated on him, waiting for an answer. “It’s actually Camp Halfblood—but, yeah, welcome.”

“Oh,” the little boy says, and his shoulders heave. “Finally.”

And he collapses forward. There’s a cry in surprise—and out of reflex, Jason steps forward and catches him. His eyes trail over to the may stains on this boy’s shirt—the monster blood, the human blood—and he hears Lee Fletcher crying out for someone to get ambrosia, nectar, and all the works.

“Wait,” Jason hears himself saying, and the older son of Apollo stares at him in disbelief.

“Why would we wait, Grace?” Lee demands.

Jason props the boy up on his arm, the nest of dark hair bobbing as they move. “Because he’s snoring.”

Upon carrying the little boy to the infirmary, they all discover their newest camper has a vice grip and refuses to let go of Jason. Beckendorf, a much older camper, tries once while Jason takes this boy who can’t be older than nine or ten, and Jason’s head almost comes off with it. They stop trying when they hear a little sob. Jason thinks he hears a name—Bianca?—and confines himself to carry the boy to one of the cots.

Jason has to rock on his feet and stand to the tips of his toes—and practically falls over as he sets the boy down, arms still bound around him, but eventually manages to wriggle out of the grip. He stares at the boy, puzzled, as this new demigod just rolls into a ball, expression unseen.

The eagles caw outside—and from the window, Jason sees them soar past the window, evidently deciding to remain close.

“Jace,” Lee says, which startles him, “why don’t you get him some new clothes?”

Lee’s already washed his hands, rubber gloves on, and is picking up an arm to inspect this boy. He wrinkles his nose as his hand stains with mud.

“Oh—okay,” Jason says—and he stays just long enough for Lee’s apprentice and little brother, Will, pull a twig out of dark hair.

Jason sprints to the Big House. On his way back to the infirmary, he watches as both eagles spread their wings and shriek, glowering at him. Jason cringes, staring at them with hesitation.

The door opens, and Will pokes his head out curiously. He stares up at the rooftop and mimics Jason’s expression. “You think they’re going to stay long?”

“Hard to say,” Jason mumbles uncomfortably. He takes a thoughtful step towards the infirmary and the eagles make another sound of displeasure. A loud moan comes from the infirmary—childish and feeble, and the eagles suddenly cock their heads to that instead. Jason takes the distraction to climb the porch steps and sighs with relief. “Guess it depends on how long this kid wants to stay.”

Will pats his shoulder sympathetically. “We’ll find an animal that likes you eventually.”

New campers, of course, fall under the jurisdiction of Cabin Eleven, and Connor and Travis insist that this new kid already imprinted on Jason, despite not being the head counselor. Jason knows that this kid is recovering from whatever journey brought him to Long Island and the last thing he needs is to be at the mercy of the Stoll Brothers’ pranks, so he halfheartedly agrees.

The storm subsides pretty quickly after the kid arrives, and business seems to resume as usual. People are already placing bets on what cabin this kid belongs to—if he belongs to any cabin, and Jason tries very hard not to hope that this kid belongs in the cabin that the eagles and the obnoxious storm suggest.

He spends most of the time in the infirmary, passing on his sword-training classes to Clarisse—and the boy wakes up just long enough to be spoonfed ambrosia and change into a clean shirt and pants. Every day, they find at least one twig in his hair while they’re not looking. He doesn’t speak very much at first—eventually Will and Lee decide to just let Jason handle this kid on his own to tend to other campers who are at the mercy of Clarisse’s sword training.

On the third day of this kid’s arrival, Jason walks up the porch of the med bay and the eagles squawk angrily, per usual. Jason opens the door and notices the kid perk at his arrival, in contrast to the screaming eagles.

“You feeling any better?” Jason asks.

The blue eyes stare at him carefully, then nod. He squints thoughtfully at Jason, then speaks for the first time since arriving during the storm the other day. “They keep screaming death when you walk by.”

Jason blinks. “They?”

The boy gestures to the roof. “Lark and Sparrow.”

Blond eyebrows furrow together. “Who?”

“Lark and Sparrow,” the boy repeats.

It takes a moment, but Jason’s eyebrows raise, puzzled. “You mean the eagles?”

“Yeah.” The boy nods, then pauses. “They had an older sister—Cloud, but—well, she…” The boy’s eyes moisten and his gaze falls to his hands sadly. “She didn’t make it.”

Oh. Jason doesn’t quite consider it a superpower, but he can pick up on the tone of a mourning soul, even if it’s for an eagle. Lark and Sparrow, the eagles (Jason doesn’t think he’ll ever get his mind wrapped around that) clearly love this little boy very much. Unfortunately, no one at camp speaks bird, and they’ve gone almost a week now not knowing this boy’s story—even if he wants to tell it.

Jason retrieves a stool, setting aside the ambrosia sundae. “Do you…want to tell me about Cloud?”

The boy raises his head curiously, evidently surprised to be encouraged, and then nods. “Cloud was their leader. She’s the one that found me first in—in the accident. And then she promised me that the four of them would get to camp. She—” His voice cracks. “—she couldn’t keep that promise.”

Jason flashes a look of concern. After a few meals of ambrosia and clean clothes, the boy looks better, but feeling better is another story entirely.

“Lark’s a good listener though, I think she makes Sparrow feel better,” the boy continues.

The edge of Jason’s lip curls.

“What?” the boy asks, and he blinks.

“Nothing—I’m glad they got you here safe. I’m sure Cloud is proud,” Jason reassures. He reaches for the ambrosia sundae and at this point, the boy knows it’s for him. “I’ve never met birds that were named after other birds.”

The boy shrugs nonchalantly. “Names are names. Did you know that Hades named his dog Spot?”

Jason makes a face, watching as this boy pluck a cherry off the sundae and plop it in his mouth. Of all the deities the boy could have chosen (before they checked to see if he actually understands what’s going on—the death of Cloud the Eagle seems to suggest he does.) “I’ve—actually never thought about it that way.”

“It just sounds cooler because it’s Greek,” the boy says. “Like your name. Otherwise, people would be walking around calling you Healer.”

“I’m. Sorry, what?”

“Your name,” the boy repeats, and it’s impossible not to stare at the bits of whipped cream at the corner of his lip. “Jason.”

“You know my name,” Jason says slowly, on eyebrow arched in the air. This boy has been silent for the last two days, taking in his environment with wide, curious eyes. Jason had seen the boy’s mouth drop when Grover had come to check on him.

The boy’s cheeks flush, and he quickly nods. “I heard the other two say it.”

The other two, the boy said. Not Lee and Will. Jason blinks once again. “You know my name and you know the meaning behind my name.”

“It was in the Argonaut Expansion pack,” the boy continues. “The trivia in the wrapper.”

Much like Lark and Sparrow, Jason tries to connect the dots in his head. “You mean Mythomagic?”

The sundae falls from the boy’s hands, and to Jason’s surprise, those blue eyes suddenly glitter with excitement. “You know Mythomagic? Do you play? Do you have a favorite character?”

He’s vibrating in his seat, and Jason actually leans back to keep ice cream from falling on him. Jason reaches over and dabs the melted ice cream with a tissue. “I’ve dabbled. You’ll see some of the other kids playing Mythomagic here. It helps them understand our world better. Our—hey. So. Do you…understand how you got here? What’s going on?”

The boy stares at him, puzzled, evidently confused.

“So you and I—this entire camp,” Jason says slowly, “we’re halfbloods.”

“Halfbirds?”

“Halfbloods,” Jason corrects. “Demigods. It means that we’re half human, half—”

“Half god,” the boy finishes with an excited whisper. His eyes glitter again. “Like Mythomagic.”

“Yeah, exactly like Mythomagic—”

“Oh my god,” the boy says again—and the way he vibrates in the bed would make Jason think he was never healing in the first place. “My dad was a god? Oh my dad!”

Jason stares at the boy in surprise. For a kid that had emerged from the forest covered in blood and spoils, this is the quickest he’s ever seen a demigod recover from learning about their parentage. This kid is acting just like he sounds—a kid—and is now grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Who’s your parent? Apollo? Aphrodite?” The boy claps his hand on the mattress, then leans close to Jason with a gasp. “It’s Thanatos, isn’t it? That’s why Lark and Sparrow keep screaming death!”

“Um, Hades, actually—” Jason peels the ice cream sundae away from the bed before it can spill, unable to hide his surprise. Most people didn’t list gods outside the main twelve, let alone mention his dad’s lieutenant of all people. He expects the boy to gulp and shirk away at first—like other kids did when they realized they were suddenly standing with the child of the King of the Dead, but the boy’s hand fall and he stares at Jason with even more fascination.

“He has 4000 attack power,” the boy whispers in amazement. “5000 if someone else attacks first.”

Jason blinks, yet again confounded by this boy’s enthusiasm. “Yeah—I think I heard that. You’re not…scared?”

The boy doesn’t hear him. Instead, he’s mumbling again, evidently still stuck on Jason’s parentage with utter amazement. He falls silent, then looks back up to Jason with hopeful eyes. “Can we hold a funeral for Cloud?”

This time, Jason’s lips fold into the familiar shape, aching almost, into the first smile that he’s had in a long time. “Is that what you want?”

The boy nods up and down. “A funeral for Lark and Sparrow’s sister, and maybe a funeral for my—” The boy cuts himself off, the excitement suddenly waning. Jason can see it in the boy’s expression, something hitting him like a freight train, and it looks more solemn and more mournful than it did for Cloud.

Oh. This boy has seen death recently—and not just for the sister of someone else.

Jason reaches out and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Blue eyes look back up to him, sadder than the bouncing boy from before.

“We’ll give Cloud a Grecian funeral, just like in Mythomagic,” Jason says quietly. At the M word, the boy cocks his head back up, eyebrows furrowed. “And another for whoever else needs one. Whenever you’re ready.”

The boy sniffles, his eyes swelling with tears once more.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jason repeats.

“Okay.” To his surprise, the boy throws his arms around Jason like the first day, vice grip and all.

Jason hesitates—but then folds his arms around the other boy, patting sympathetically as he hears the sniffles grow louder.

After Will and Lee give the okay, Jason plans a funeral in the woods for Cloud the Eagle—which quickly goes awry from the Grecian traditions that he had planned when Nico explains Lark and Sparrow’s constructive notes. Two of the notes include burying part of their sister “like humans do”—with things that she held dear. Nico whips a feather out of his hair, insistent that it came from the late bird, and explains that Cloud’s favorite items included bird seed and bottle caps.

Thus, Jason instructs Nico to fill a lunch box with bird seed and bottle caps (there’s a small intermission where Jason watches Nico lecture Lark and Sparrow about eating their sister’s afterlife food) before placing the eagle feather gingerly on top, then listens to Nico and the birds deliver a eulogy for their fallen comrade.

Grover plays the reedpipes as they lower the lunch box into the ground, and daffodils sprout over the mound. He’s touched, of course, that someone would care enough to want to hold a funeral for an animal of nature.

“Will Charon accept bird seeds?” Nico asks worriedly.

Jason doesn’t miss the way Grover suddenly squawks on the reed pipes, evidently amused by the question. He places a hand on Nico’s shoulder, not missing the way that Nico inches closer into his bubble. “Um, animals are out of Charon’s jurisdiction.”

Nico frowns, clearly upset.

“They usually get reincarnated. Sometimes as plants, or as new animals,” Grover explains. Jason has to hold back a sigh of relief—he doesn’t know how much more he can talk about death, but Grover is charmed enough. He gestures to the eagles. “Maybe a lark. Or a sparrow. Or—”

“Or a raven?” Nico asks.

Grover nods sagely, flashing a look that Jason has always received growing up. Then he ruffles Nico’s hair. “You sure know your birds, Nico.”

Nico shrugs, the worry about Cloud not reaching the Underworld dissipating. Then, he notices what Jason has been wary of since the young demigod’s arrival. Nico gestures to Lark and Sparrow, who’d given Jason the stink eye since arriving at camp. “Why don’t they like you? They keep calling you the Deathbringer.”

Jason cringes, and he notices Grover do it too. “Yeah—well, animals aren’t fond of me. They sense death.”

Another frown curls against Nico’s lips, and the next look that the flashes his birds causes them to behave and stand erect. “But you just helped them bury their sister.”

“Yeah, tell them that,” Grover mutters, and he nudges Jason affectionately.

“I am,” Nico assures, and he climbs to his feet. The eagles squawk nervously—and then Nico turns around, his blue eyes fully on Jason. “And you’re so cool.”

Grover spills into a grin, and Jason’s eyebrows raise in confusion. He can hardly call spending the afternoon filling a lunch box with bird seed and fending off grouchy birds cool. “You think I’m cool?”

Unabashed, this boy stares at Jason with the same intrigue as he did when Jason started comparing Mythomagic to their lives. “The coolest.”

Red flourishes in Jason’s cheeks, and Grover is elbowing him again. Before he can open his mouth, Nico turns to his pet eagles, hands on his hips like a doting mother.

“If you two can’t respect Jason for holding a funeral for Cloud,” Nico says in his best parenting tone, “then scram.”

Both birds make a sound, evidently shocked, but Nico places a hand in front of him, halting their speech.

“No,” Nico says, “I’ll be okay here. Please go home.”

Jason watches in utter disbelief as both birds pick themselves up, glaring at him, before flying away.

Grover pats him on the shoulder. “You don’t want to know what they said.”

Nico falls to his knees again and pets the daffodils over Cloud’s makeshift grave. His eyebrows furrow together, evidently troubled at the departure of their friends, but seems set on his decision.

When he gets over his stupor, Jason clears his throat and walks up behind Nico, finally able to get close to this little grave that he helped make without prying eagle eyes. He kneels to the ground and pats a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in at Cabin Eleven.”

#jasico #jason grace #nico di angelo #fic #dearly departed #au of an au #trying to find that writing bug while life is hectic

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malecstele · 5 years

Note

Yay! You know how in 2x13 there were all those attacks against Shadowhunters, and they were losing their runes? Magnus also said he was worried sick for Alec walking alone. Then they had that fight and Alec left. Well, my prompt is: And if Alec was kidnapped and severely hurt (maybe a couple runes removed, but not all) and it was Magnus who tracked him down and saved him? Also, Alec would apologize for asking for Magnus' hair before, saying he never have to prove anything. (Is it too dark?)

Thank you so much!

Alec struggled against the restraints on his body. He didn’t know who captured him but he knew what was coming next: someone was going to cut off his runes then kill him. He should have just listened to Magnus. He should have had someone walk with him. His attacker came at him from behind, as silent as the night. Alec felt someone sneak up behind him, but before he could react, much less turn around, he was hit in the head. He didn’t know how long he was out but it was obviously enough time for the attacker to drag him to this abandoned warehouse and tie him up. By the angel, he was such an idiot, and now he was going to die because of it.

The sound of echoing footsteps caught his attention. He tried his best to turn his head to the source, except it was rather hard to do so when you were tied to a table.

“You’re finally awake,” said a woman’s voice. It seemed awfully familiar.

She came into his sight, it was Kaelie, the Seelie he walked in on with Jace. Normally he would have shuddered at the thought of that moment, but all he could focus on was the sharp knife Kaelie held in her hand.

“Why are you doing this?”

“That,” she said. “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to be dead in a few minutes anyway.” She leaned towards him, grinning. Alec tried to kick at her, loosen the binds, anything to prevent what was going to happen. It was no use.

“This is going to hurt.” She slowly slid the tip of the knife into his skin. Alec clenched his eyes closed, it burned. She dug the knife deeper, taking her time. Suddenly, she swiped, and slashed huge cut into his arm. She pulled up, freeing the knife. Alec yelled. His entire arm felt like it was throbbing, he glanced at it. His entire itraze rune was gone, it was nothing more than a chunk of flesh on the ground.

“We’re just getting started,” said Kaelie, moving up his arm for yet another rune.

When Alec didn’t answer his calls, Magnus felt deep in his gut that something was wrong. He called Isabelle, then Jace, then contacted the actual Institute. No one had seen or heard from him. He told Alexander that he shouldn’t be going out alone. Now he was dead or about to be. Magnus hurried to the bedroom and looked for anything that belonged to Alec. He spotted a bit of one of his shirts poking out from under the bed. He pulled it out and started to focus. Alec had worn this yesterday so the connection between them would be strong. He closed his eyes and started to track Alec. As soon as he got the location, he wasted no time. He quickly texted Jace and Izzy the location and created a portal. He hadn’t been to that warehouse before so he wouldn’t be able to portal right there, he had, however, been to the restaurant on the other side of the street. Visualizing the area, Magnus created the portal and stepped through.

Alec couldn’t catch his breath. He was losing a lot of blood. It was creating a puddle on the floor. Kaelie was working on his third rune. The one on his shoulder. She was going slower than she had for the other two, probably because of the angle. Going slow was so much worse than going fast. He felt every movement she made with the knife. Tears rolled down his face. This was torture. Just as she finished cutting, one of the doors burst open. Alec couldn’t make out who the person was in the darkness, but he was thankful nonetheless.

Orange magic shot towards Kaelie and she flew back, and slammed into the wall. Before she could even get up, she was being lifted by the magic. Alec didn’t even have to look to know who the magic belonged to, he would have recognized it anywhere. It was Magnus. Kaelie was immobilized, there was no way she would be able to get out of Magnus’s magical grip.

Magnus rushed over to him, and waved his hand, undoing all of the restraints. “Oh, Alexander, you’re going to be okay. Let me help you up.” Gently, Magnus helped lift him up. The pain was excruciating. “I’ll heal you, Alexander, once we get out of here,” Magnus whispered. “Let me just take care of her.” Magnus snapped his fingers and she disappeared, Alec knew that he sent her to the Clave.

Magnus put his arm around Alec’s waist, making sure that he didn’t touch any of his wounds. He portaled them back to the loft and set Alec down on the couch.

“Thank you, Magnus. I love you so much.”

Magnus’s hands hovered above the bloody mess where his runes used to be. Alec could feel the skin slowly closing. He sighed. “It hurt so much.”

“Thank the angel that she only took off three.”

“I don’t know if I would have been able to take anymore. I’m so glad you found me.”

“Me too, Alexander.” He moved onto the next.

“Magnus, I’m so sorry. For everything. I should have never asked for your hair sample. You never have to prove anything to me, or anyone else.”

Magnus smiled at him, cupped his face and kissed Alec’s forehead.“I love you, Alexander.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec fanfiction #malec fanfic #malec fic #requests #asks #headcanon

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elspethsunschampion · 5 years

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Prismatic Wardrobe

Jace was naked. Jace was naked in Nivix. This was—suboptimal. Definitely suboptimal. It had seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do—sleeping naked because someone had spilled coffee all over his shirt and cloak. Ral had even said he’d get some goblins to clean it, and Jace had thought, sure, why not. He’d slept over on the cot in Ral’s lab before, and he’d been given a nice blanket, and there had maybe, possibly, been a few other things to occupy his mind at the time.

Only now he was awake, and there was no Ral, and there were no clothes, and he was naked. In Nivix.

After running his hand distractedly through his hair a few times, he started poking around the lab and discovered that Ral had left a pile of his own dirty laundry in the corner, which was—well, it was better than nothing. He dug through it until he found a brown (leather) and some really poofy brown pants (not leather). Good enough, Jace supposed, yanking them on. He was shorter than Ral, and the pants bagged loosely around his ankles. There was probably a belt somewhere, but Jace didn’t feel like digging too deeply through the dirty laundry. He sighed. He felt scruffy and kind of awful, but at least he wasn’t naked anymore.

He was halfway to the door when it opened to let Ral in. Ral, who was holding Jace’s cloak, shirt, and pants. Well, now Jace felt silly. Ral raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, hey there,” he said slowly. “Impatient today?”

“I had no idea when you were getting back,” Jace protested.

“I guess you did pick the one ten minute timeslot to wake up in that I was gone for,” Ral said with a grin. “Also, you’re wearing my clothes.”

“Um. Yes?”

Ral put Jace’s own clothes down on a nearby lab table. “You look good in my clothes,” he said, his voice deepening just a bit.

“I—ah—oh?”

“Yeah.” The next moment Jace was being backed into the nearby lab table, Ral’s hands resting lightly on his waist, and then Ral’s lips were on his, firm and a little insistent. Jace sighed softly, twining his arms around Ral’s neck, feeling the little sparks jumping from Ral’s hair to his forehead. Ral’s hands slipped beneath Jace’s thighs, lifting him right up onto the table.

All right, Jace thought dizzily as he reached for the front of Ral’s shirt, maybe he wasn’t so scruffy and awful after all.

#MTGShip #Day 12 #zeleren #fanfiction #my writing

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holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight · 5 years

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The Bodyguard - Chapter 3

Summary: Magnus is a dancing popstar sensation whose popularity continues to climb. Alec, an ex-Secret Service agent, is hired on as a professional bodyguard in charge of Mr. Bane’s personal security by insistence of Magnus’ manager. Despite their initial differences, Magnus finds himself falling for Alec the more time they spend getting to know each other and relies on him for more than physical security as his safety gets threatened. Loosely based on the 1992 film The Bodyguard.

Rating: M

Genre: AU, Everyone is Human AU, Celebrity!Magnus, Bodyguard!Alec, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining

Author: holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight

A/N: I'd like to credit the amazing Malec AU series 'Stars Aligned' by Lecrit for some inspiration for some of this. I happened to come across that fic and it solidified my decision to put Magnus on my favourite talk show, even though I could only hope to write it as in character as that incredible author. If you haven't read it, please do yourself a favour and do so - it is incredible and so in character and a mix of fluffy, funny, smutty and just plain perfection. You can read part 1 of 3 here.

Can also be read on AO3. Thanks for reading!!

Previous chapters on tumblr: Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2

Alec settled back further into the pillows, smiling to himself as he read over the most recent text he received.

It had only been a few days since Alec had 'moved in' with Magnus, and so far it hadn't been so bad. Magnus had an extensive evening and morning routine, but since Alec was typically low maintenance when it came to daily prep, they managed to make it work.

Alec typically was awake first, showered and sipped at coffee while Magnus got up later and took a luxuriously long shower, exfoliated, moisturized, and did a bunch more things that Alec tuned out whenever Magnus prattled on about it when he made a comment about it.

Have you met any celebrity pals of Magnus' yet?

Alec rolled his eyes at his sister's curiosity.

No, Iz. Been a little busy trying to, y'know, do my job.

Spoilsport.

He chuckled. Another text came through shortly after.

I miss you.

The three words made him sigh.

I miss you too. I wish the tour allowed me to take a visit home at some point but it's so busy. And with everything going on, I don't want to leave Magnus vulnerable.

I know. You always do what's right. Your brothers miss you too. Max is already taller. And he's acting more like you every day.

I miss them too. How is Max like me? I thought he'd end up more like Jace when he was younger to be honest. Too curious for his own good sometimes.

Oh he definitely has his mischievous side. But he's got a good head on his shoulders too. He looks up to you so much. He may want to be Jace's best pal but he wants to BE you.

I have no idea why. He'll grow out of it, I'm sure.

Alec! Don't be stupid.

Yeah, yeah, love you too.

You know I love you, dummy.

Before he could respond with some other mocking jest, a rap of knuckles on his open door startled him out of his texting.

"Hey. If you want the bathroom, I'm done."

Alec slipped off the bed, grabbing his clothes and sending Magnus a smile. "Thanks. I won't be long."

Magnus let him by and turned to head to his own room, using one hand to dry his hair with a towel, until a noise caught his attention.

It only took him a moment to track it to Alec's cell phone on the bedspread that he left behind.

Curiosity brewed under his skin, and the second vibrate made him skip over to pick up the device. Maybe it was urgent?

He swiped to open the recent texts and stumbled upon his conversation with someone named Izzy.

He read back a few messages, his brow furrowing, especially once he got a look at the icon attached to her contact.

His eyebrows rose into his hairline. The woman was beautiful. Gorgeous.

Did Alec have a girlfriend? How had he never mentioned her?

To be fair, he couldn't recall Alec sharing much of anything to do with his life. He was a rather quiet figure, except when it came to barking orders.

If his text conversation was anything to go by, they clearly were serious, what with the playful banter and exchanges of missing each other. The casually dropped I love yous. And it sounded as though she was close to his family—making comments about his brothers the way she did, as if she had been seeing them regularly despite his absence in their lives.

It wasn't that surprising that someone had snatched Alec up. After all, Magnus wasn't blind. Alec was an attractive guy. A little too serious and uptight at times, but his appearance was certainly lacking in faults. Although, with the quiet temperament of the man, it likely took a special someone to break through his walls.

Magnus didn't know why it made his chest feel heavier.

It caught up to him when he heard the faucet running in the bathroom, that Alec could be done any moment. He quickly replaced the phone where he found it and skittered away from the bed, not wanting to be caught snooping. Alec's personal life was none of his business.

Maybe he was just bothered about it because of the other night with Camille. Alec seeing a vulnerable piece of his relationship past, and Magnus not having a clue that Alec had a present one. He had felt closer to Alec since that night, and once he revealed to him the real reason he hired him. It made him feel like he could trust him. And Magnus wasn't one to hand out trust like that to just anyone.

He didn't realize he was still hovering at Alec's doorway until the man returned, surprise on his face.

"Uh… is something wrong? Did something happen?" Alec asked, going into business-mode immediately.

His face looked freshly clean, the evening stubble shadowing his cheeks, and Magnus found himself distracted at the sight of him so casually dressed in pajamas pants and a t-shirt that he almost forgot that he was expected to speak.

Izzy's one lucky lady.

"Uh… sorry. I…"

Magnus corrected his throat.

"I was just thinking back to the other night. With Camille. I was a little too dumbstruck to say it then I think, but I wanted to make sure I had thanked you for stepping in and removing her from the building."

"It's my job, remember?" Alec teased, and Magnus felt the tightness in his chest lift a little. Their banter was what he had been enjoying since that night. The side of Alec he only got to see snippets of, when he let his guard down.

"I know, I know. But not just that. What you said… I don't know, it stuck with me. So thank you for that too."

Alec leaned against the door jamb, looking a little amused. Before Magnus could ask, he explained, clearly catching the question in his expression.

"Words aren't really my specialty. Just sort of ironic, considering. But I appreciate it."

"Why, Alexander, words aren't your specialty? Since when?" Magnus asked, mock-incredulous, and Alec rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I should really run for office with my way with words. I'm sure the public is ready for a socially awkward introvert to lead them to greatness."

Magnus threw his head back and laughed at that, finding Alec's eyes sparkling with mirth right back at him. Alec certainly had a mischevious side to him too.

The trait made him pause and think back to the conversation he peeked at.

Right. Alec was… involved. He shouldn't be this playful with him. Some might take it as flirting, and he wasn't interested in being that guy. Even if Alec hadn't confided that he was in a relationship and he could feign obliviousness. He supposed he'd have to reel back his purposeful flirting now too, despite the lovely blush his words always forced on his companion.

He straightened up and forced a smile. "Well. I should head to bed. Goodnight, Alexander."

He slinked away, not wanting to look back in case Alec could sense the disappointment in his face.

"Night." he called back, before closing his bedroom door.

Alec crawled into bed, plugging his phone in and texting a quick response to Izzy before lying down to sleep.

He wondered what had gotten into Magnus. They seemed to be in a good place, but then he started acting odd. Did he do something wrong? Push too hard?

The troubling thoughts eventually cradled him to sleep.

Early mornings were not Magnus' thing.

Ironic, considering how often he had to get up at an ungodly hour to either make some talk show, start rehearsals, or begin travelling.

Still, despite his experience, he still had to drag his feet and grumble under his breath until at least after a hot shower and mug of strong coffee.

Alec, on the other hand, appeared like he did at any other time of day; bright, alert, and ready for anything. Magnus would have assumed he would be the grumpier of the two of them, but it seemed that mildly irritated was Alec's general state of being and it didn't exceed that just because of the early hour.

The only thing that seemed to really increase his irritation was Magnus himself.

Then again, Magnus could probably work on giving him less of a hard time or not pressing so many of his buttons, but it was so fun.

"Mr. Bane, please return to the inside of the vehicle." Alec said through a heavy sigh.

Magnus poked his head through the open roof. "Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times." he imitated an amusement park ride operator robotically.

"Magnus… you are exposed out there. We don't know if who is stalking you is dangerous to your physical well-being and they no doubt know about your appearance on Ellen."

"My fans are also aware of my appearance and expect to get a glimpse of me on my way there. I can't disappoint them."

"They will be even more disappointed if you get a bullet in your head." Alec pointed out.

Magnus huffed and climbed down from his perch, collapsing back into his seat with his arms crossed. "You really know how to dampen a mood, Alexander."

"One of my many charms." Alec quipped, going back to his tablet.

Magnus tried not to watch him too closely from the corner of his eye. It was hard not to notice that Alec was actually an incredibly attractive man, somehow more noticeable now that he knew he had an equally attractive partner. Or so he assumed. Alec had still not mentioned anything about having a girlfriend. If he did, he still hoped that Alec followed his sexuality spectrum more—at least if he was bisexual, he couldn't write off something happening between them someday completely off the table.

Then again, Alec also was infuriating at times, stubborn and callous, even though the softer side he had seen lately could melt his heart.

"We're here." Alec said as the car began to slow.

Magnus jumped up immediately and Alec's hand shot out to grab him.

"Remember what we talked about." Alec said exasperatedly, like he was dealing with a hyperactive child.

Magnus pouted and slunk back to his seat. He hated being told what to do and bossed around, but he knew that Alec knew what he was doing and it was important. After the other night, he wasn't looking to be risky at any venue, even one as well secured as Ellen DeGeneres' Warner Brothers studio.

Alec immediately went into Head of Security mode, directing the security team and going to meet with the main security person for the studio before even letting Magnus out of the car.

It would be boring if it wasn't so hot watching him take initiative and order people around with the cool confidence he exuded while he was working.

Still, Magnus was anxious to get inside and get prepped for the show. It was his favourite show to be on and he had only been on once before after he had won first place on the show. He loved watching Ellen even before he was famous. She always treated every guest equally, like they were a long-time friend, and he loved how comfortable he felt despite the millions of eyes on the pair of them and her unexpected questions or turns.

A moment later, Alec was opening the door for him.

"All right. All clear." Alec said warmly, gesturing him ahead.

Magnus reached out to clasp his arm for support to stand up. "Why thank you, Alexander. Such a gentleman." he teased, sashaying past him to head inside.

Alec rolled his eyes but he was fighting a smile.

Magnus heard an explosion of screams upon his exit from the limo, and he grinned brightly in direction to the fenced off area where fans were losing their mind over the sight of him.

"Can I go say hi?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. There has been no regulation of who is over there and if they're carrying any weapons…"

But Magnus was already skipping off to greet people, waving excitedly and embracing the ones he could reach.

Alec sighed as he trotted after him. This man was going to be the death of him.

Magnus took countless photos with exuberant fans and signed any paper thrust into his hand.

Finally, he pulled out his own phone. "I'm on Ellen today – and look at the beautiful sight that greets me!" he shouted into the camera, holding his phone far away to capture the rows of screaming teens jumping up and down. "You guys are amazing! So excited to meet more of you on this tour! Love you all!"

He ended the video as Alec put a hand on his lower back.

"Magnus, we're on a schedule. Time to go inside."

Magnus nodded. "Sorry, my bodyguard is a buzzkill. See you lovelies later!" he chirped at his audience before letting Alec lead him away back to the studio.

The screams didn't get cut off until the door of the studio closed behind them.

"Magnus! We've got to get you to hair and make-up." Raphael said, looking at his watch. "You're the second guest on the show so we need to get going."

Magnus waved a hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you. I was giving the fans a little something they likely waited hours for. And now I have something to post to my Instagram story."

Alec met Raphael's eyes and shrugged one shoulder, admitting defeat at his ability to keep Magnus in line.

"You're fine with that, right? Since both my people and Ellen's show have been promoting my apperance here all week, so it's not as like some stalker will get new information that I'll be here today." Magnus said as he sat in the make-up chair.

Alec nodded. "Yes, exactly. It's like with your tour venues. Everything is posted well in advance, which is why we have to take such extra precautions when here, but not so much with social media."

Magnus grinned, not used to his approval, but also realizing belatedly that he never used to look for it so openly.

A well dressed woman came into the room then, wearing a headset and holding a clipboard, and her eyes went wide upon seeing the man standing off to the side of the star.

"Oh my god. Alec Lightwood?!" the blonde squeaked.

Alec's body language changed entirely. "Lydia? Hey! I didn't realize you worked here." he said as she pulled him into a big hug. She was very small compared to his tall form.

"I'm just filling in mostly, while their usual person is on maternity leave. Helping direct the show's schedule and keep things running smoothly. I thought you were working in Washington?"

"I was. But now that Trump is in office…"

"Ah. I'm sure he has certain specifications for his Secret Service team." Lydia said knowingly.

Magnus felt a little confused. Alec had implied something of the sort before when they met, but he didn't know what he meant by it. He figured he just wasn't a Trump supporter. Now he felt like he was missing something. Maybe Alec followed a disapproved religion? Or was an immigrant?

"Well, I also wouldn't want to protect someone who was against the safety of so many others just because they are different." Alec admitted. "It's really good to see you."

"You too." she said, smiling brightly up at him. She then seemed to remember there were others in the room. She clasped her hands together. "Sorry! Magnus! It is amazing to meet you. I'm Lydia."

"Nice to meet you too, Lydia." Magnus replied, kissing her proffered hand.

She giggled at his chivalry. "Let's get started with the plan for today, shall we?"

"You're not going to escort me out there, are you?"

"No. But I will be here on the sidelines to make sure nothing goes awry. I've got people stationed in different areas that I can direct from here."

"Good."

"Have fun out there." Alec said, pressing a hand to his headset to listen in to the voice talking to him. He nodded at Magnus when Lydia gestured him to go on, so he assumed Alec had gotten the all clear from the others.

Magnus headed out to the stage as the music swelled and Ellen's voice announced his presence.

He danced in his spot for a moment, giving a twirl, before crossing the stage to hug Ellen and settle in the armchair across from her.

"Well, no surprises that you are a world famous singer/dancer. We should hire you to do dance solos every show! We can just kick Twitch out!"

Twitch laughed from his spot at the DJ booth, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Magnus laughed along. "I wish. I am so very lucky to get to do what I do each day. I am forever grateful for the talent reality shows growing in popularity so that people like me have a chance to be discovered when we never would've had the resources otherwise."

"Yes, there is a lot of talent in America and beyond, and it is so great that these incredible people reaching their dreams."

"Definitely." Magnus agreed, sipping at the mug of water in front of him.

"Speaking of dreams, how is your tour going? This is, what, your third US tour? Any plans to go further?"

"It's been incredible. We have a beautiful country that I get to see so much of and it is amazing to be able to meet so many fans from all over. I'd love to go further, like Europe or another continent, but there are a lot of logistics to work out when going that far. Also need to be sure the demand is high enough to warrant it."

"Oh come on. There has to be enough demand around the globe. You're amazing!"

The audience cheered alongside her sentiment.

Magnus wasn't great at taking compliments, and he was grateful his dark skin didn't show his blush well. "Thank you. We'll see. Hopefully next tour."

"So what is new this tour? I know you have a couple dates in Canada this time around, and obviously you're promoting your newest album, but I see you've also found yourself a bigger security team."

Magnus nodded. "Yes, my manager thought it would be wise to have people with better qualifications than a previous bouncer at a bar, given the magnitude of this tour."

"And your head of security, Alec. I met him earlier. He seems to know what he's doing."

A photo of Alec appeared on the screen behind them, his head bent to murmur directions in Magnus' ear as they moved through a crowd of people all trying to get a handful of the star. It was at one of the concert venues last week. His eyes were intense, one of his big hands on Magnus' lower back, but he was every bit as gorgeous as ever.

The audience certainly seemed to think so, if their sudden cheering was anything to go by.

Ellen grinned. "He's not for me, of course, but everyone here seems to think what my staff tell me – he's… pretty."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Pretty infuriating, but sure."

She laughed. "Is this the old-married-couple bickering I've heard rumors about? The tabloids seem to catch the pair of you arguing a lot."

The photo on the screen changed to one of him and Alec clearly in the middle of some spat, Alec's eyes mid-rolling while Magnus' mouth was twisted in an irritated scowl.

"I wouldn't call it that, but yes, we argue a lot. He's a bit uptight and bossy and I've never been good at being told what to do. Makes for interesting interactions. But I do know what he is doing is important and he is good at what he does."

"So you trust him at least?"

Magnus nodded. "With my life."

There was a series of aws throughout the studio and he wrinkled his nose at the audience.

"Well, he works my security! I should hope he can protect my life!" he said exasperatedly to the group.

Laughter broke out through the studio and he shrugged at Ellen for her amused expression.

"You make a good point. It is important you feel safe. How does he do that? Lots of wrapping you in his big arms?"

Magnus shot her a warning look, which only made her laugh.

"Not quite. It typically means me sitting on the sidelines while—"

But his spiel was interrupted by the table next to them bursting open with a shriek and a glittery disco-ball-looking costumed person running away off stage.

Magnus had startled so badly he had moved without thinking and found himself half-straddled on the back of the chair before burying his face in the cushion.

"Ellen! Why?! I thought I was in the clear since you didn't scare me last time!" he shouted at her amongst the eruption from the audience at the scene.

She was cackling in her seat, wiping her eyes. "I didn't get you last time because I wanted to make sure you came back."

"Oh, I see, so you built my trust up just to break it?!" he said hysterically, climbing back into his seat.

It was when he was resettling that he spotted Alec losing it off-stage and he flipped him his middle finger.

The audience roared with laughter again.

"Sorry. Forgot this was day time TV. That is not a nice gesture to do, kids." Magnus said directly to the camera before turning back to the host.

"I see you were right about your relationship with your head of security."

Magnus shrugged. "We're complicated, but I think it works." He glanced back at Alec to see him smiling, small and private, aimed right at him. He felt something in his chest flutter.

He dragged his eyes back to Ellen to see him watching him knowingly and he corrected his throat.

"So now that my heart has restarted, shall we continue?" he asked.

"Speaking of your heart, anyone stolen it these days?"

He knew she wouldn't let it slide. She was a successful talk show host for a reason. She had incredible observation skills, a heart of gold, and knew how to ask direct questions without hesitation.

Magnus chuckled. "Not at the moment. This tour is keeping me pretty busy. I barely have time to FaceTime my cats."

"Nobody on your team? No one you travel with and stick close to their side…" she trailed off, glancing pointedly in Alec's direction, and he laughed.

"Nope. Just me."

Ellen sighed heavily, throwing him a forgiving grin, and then thankfully moved on to asking him about his inspiration for his most popular new song.

It was mid-morning the next day when Alec got a call from Izzy.

"Hey big bro. I saw Magnus on Ellen yesterday." she said teasingly, and he could tell it was going in a direction he didn't like.

"Glad you enjoyed the show." he said as he zipped his suitcase closed.

"Oh Alec, don't be like that. Be honest - is there something going on between you two?"

"No? Of course not! He's my client. And even if he wasn't, we bicker more than we talk. I told you—he drives me crazy some days."

"I know, but I figured that the best sex always starts with a little tension."

"Jesus, Izzy!" Alec groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

She laughed. "Well, was he honest on the show? I know some fans still stupidly want him back together with Camille, but he never looked happy with her. Is he still single?"

"You know, I didn't take this job so I could be your spy on all things Magnus Bane." Alec said irritably, pushing his arm through his leather jacket.

Magnus was walking by when he heard it, and he couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest along with pure amusement at Alec's irritability. He nudged the door open further with a knock of his knuckles and held out his hand for the phone.

Alec sent him a look, but Magnus simply gestured for him to pass it over and Alec sighed as he gave him the phone.

"Magnus Bane speaking. Now, may I ask who's asking about me before I spill all my secrets?" Magnus said cheekily, eyes locked on Alec.

Alec was smothering a grin with difficulty, going back to getting ready. He knew his sister was about to lose her mind, especially since Alec hadn't been able to give her any warning. She had watched every episode of that damn reality show and had loved Magnus ever since. She was so excited when Alec told her he had been hired on to work with him.

"Holy shit." The female voice on the other end of the line breathed. "Hi. Sorry, I'm Isabelle. Or Izzy. Whatever you prefer."

The photo from Alec's phone popped into his head, along with the conversation he peeked at. So this was Izzy.

"Nice to make your acquaintance. Alec never told me he had a lady friend." Magnus said, slipping a little away from the bedroom now so Alec wouldn't necessarily hear.

To his surprise, Izzy broke out into loud laughter. "Yeah, well, Alec doesn't really do 'lady friends' of any kind. Regardless, I'm not his girlfriend—I'm his sister."

Magnus' eyebrows shot into his hairline and he couldn't help the grin that formed on his face by the news. He felt stupid for not considering that possibility before. Thinking back to her photo, the family resemblance was obvious.

"So you can't tell me about any top secret skeletons in his closet?"

Izzy laughed. "Not much to tell in the relationship area, if that's what you're after. I'll leave it to my big brother to fill you in on any… um… closeted details."

Although he knew her wording was a nod to his, he figured her awkwardness about it meant that maybe Alec was gay. He had hoped in his wildest dreams that it was a possibility, given the way Alec blushed so spectacularly at any flirting hew threw his direction and the way his eyes never followed even the most gorgeous of women that walked past, but after seeing him reacquaint with Lydia the day before, he was wondering if they were old flames.

He was enjoying this phone call more and more.

"Well, enough about your brother. Tell me about you. And you can ask me anything you want to know."

Meanwhile, Alec finished getting ready and came out to find Magnus chatting animatedly with Izzy on the phone like they were old friends. He was sprawled out in the armchair, legs flopped over the armrest, and he seemed perfectly at ease.

Alec never would understand the ease at which Magnus could communicate with people. He never seemed nervous or worried about saying the wrong thing—it was like he knew exactly what to say or ask with everyone to keep them interested, entertained and above all else – feeling special. It was fascinating to witness, especially since all Alec had ever managed to do was make people feel afraid of him or just plain uncomfortable.

Alec met Magnus' eyes and twirled his finger in a 'wrap it up' gesture, pointing to his watch.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Izzy. Your brother is giving me the finger."

"Hey!"

Magnus grinned, clearly pleased with himself for his choice of wording. "I'll text you my number, Isabelle, and we can continue this conversation later."

He said his goodbyes and tossed the phone back to Alec. He looked down to see Izzy had already hung up. Sheesh. She had called to talk to him originally and she hadn't even bothered to say bye.

He supposed that was the magic of Magnus though. He had the ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world at the time.

"All right. Let's get going then." Magnus said, grabbing his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder. "I like your sister by the way. She had a lot of interesting things to say about you, too."

Alec blanched. "Wait, like what?"

Magnus continued walking out of the door, not turning back.

"Magnus! Like what?!"

Continue to Chapter 4

#malec #malec au #malec fic #shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #the bodyguard fic

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ninwrites · 6 years

Text

find your strength

Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Words: 2523

Summary:

a quick study on magnus' perspective towards his birthday, with respect to his newfound mortality

Read on AO3 or below the cut xx

Birthdays have never held much weight for Magnus - it’s difficult, to consider it anything special, with the life he's led.

Every year he marks the date that Ragnor had chosen for him, December eight (because Ragnor always insisted that it was important to mark it, as an event, for the barest hope that he won’t get swept away by the ceaseless passing of time, that he’ll have some sort of anchor to hold onto), but he doesn’t go out of his way to celebrate it. He’s not like Ragnor, he can’t celebrate time as though it’s a gift, and he most certainly doesn’t need the reminder, of all the tragedy his existence has brought others, of all that time has taken away from him.

It’s more than a little jarring, for his birthday to come around with so much meaning, now that his immortality is gone, and the friend who’d brought him the day along with it.

Magnus wakes up to an empty bed, which seems pretty on-par for how he already feels about the day. There’s a small, foolish part of him that hopes it won’t set the tone, but he doesn’t have a lot of faith in it - he can’t.

A lot of his decisions are made in that vein of thought, these days. He can’t afford to be careless, can’t take risks the same way that he used to, because there’s no safety net to catch him if he falls, no quick-fix for his mistakes.

It’s made him a lot more cynical - he’d thought he had already hit his peak, but it appears as though there’s another mountain after it, with nothing but clouds of pessimism before him.

There haven’t been many respective upsides to his new, mundane way of life; Alec, bless his beautiful heart is trying as best he can to help Magnus feel better, but there are some cold patches that not even his warmth can reach.

(Still. They say it is the thought that counts, and Alec’s dedication is almost as strong as his follow-through.)

There’s a slight rap on the door, a two-knuckled knock that allows Magnus a few seconds to pull himself up into a sitting position before Alec is poking his head around the corner, tousled hair in disarray, a hesitance to his gaze.

“Good morning,” Alec smiles, and it’s like the break of the sun’s rays through stormy dark clouds, splitting and warm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake.”

Magnus shrugs his left shoulder, running a hand through his tangled bed-hair. He misses the ease of the most simplest tasks the most, he’s discovered. The ability to fix even the slightest inconvenience with just a quick snap of his fingers-

“Surprise.” Magnus doesn’t force a smile, just lets it sit, distant but there .

He knows that he couldn’t get through this without Alec, and it’s that knowledge that makes the sacrifice worth it; he’d do it all over again, without question.

(He’d go to unthinkable lengths for Alec.)

“I thought the surprises were supposed to be up my sleeve.” Alec comments, crossing the room. “This is your day.”

“Can’t we share it?”

Alec shakes his head, fondness lighting him up like his atoms are made of affection. “Afraid not.”

He leans in, cupping Magnus’ cheek and kissing him, patient and soft, from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Happy birthday,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to Magnus’ cheek. “Thank you for being born.”

Magnus curls his hand around Alec’s wrist. “You say that as though I had a choice in the matter.”

“It doesn’t matter to me - just that it happened.” Alec drops another kiss, this time to Magnus’ temple, an aching tenderness to the touch. “I love you.”

Magnus rests his forehead against Alec’s. “If you really loved me, you’d get back into bed - that position can’t be too comfortable for a giant such as yourself.”

“I’m supposed to be cooking you breakfast.” Alec murmurs, his gaze hooded - he skips over the giant comment, and Magnus isn’t sure if he should feel grateful; it’s meant to poke fun, for Alec is quite clearly not a giant, nor even that much taller than Magnus, but it wasn’t carried by all that much humour.

“Then again, it was also supposed to be a surprise.” Alec admits, after a moment, his voice just above a whisper.

“Burning down my kitchen is a peculiar gift, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Alec hums, a slip of laughter escaping between his parted lips. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Breakfast is actually something I can cook pretty well, I used to do it for Izzy and Jace all the time. Training with an empty stomach never ends well.”

Magnus tips his head back, looping his arms around Alec’s neck. “Now you’ve spiked my curiosity. What did you have in mind?”

Alec grins, opening his eyes slowly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ah, now that I can still keep a surprise.” He kisses Magnus again, relaxed and measured, before pulling back. There’s something, more than just kindness in his gaze, more than just consideration to the tugged-up corner of his smile. “I know that birthdays have never been a highlight for you - they’re not my favourite events, either. But this is the first time I get to celebrate with you, and I … I want to make this a good day, if you’ll let me. But only if you’ll let me.”

Magnus’ heart aches for how much he loves this wonderful man before him; it’s impossible and undeniable, all the same. “Breakfast sounds lovely.”

Alec nods, and Magnus thinks that he would have agreed even if he wasn’t hungry - Alec needs something to do, a task to focus on, to pour all of his energy into, and even something as everyday as making breakfast appears to put more iron in his veins, strength and determination taking over from his worry.

He does that, a lot. Worry. About Magnus, especially, now that he’s magic-less. Mundane. Empty.

It’s sweet, if a little overbearing at times, but Magnus knows that is just Alec’s nature - he needs to feel useful, to help wherever he can. If making breakfast makes him feel like he’s doing something, then it’s hardly a chore for Magnus to indulge him; after all, ensuring that Alec is okay is pretty much all that Magnus has the energy to care about, these days.

There’s a stranger in the mirror.

His skin is pale, his cheeks sunken, his mouth a tight, thin line, a shadow in the background of his gaze, flickering and dark. There’s no cat-eye slit, no gold, no spark. Just a plain, normal brown. Nothing extraordinary, nothing special, nothing magic .

Magnus doesn’t recognise the man in the mirror, though they wear the same face, and move the same way. It’s been a month - or, maybe two, time is slippery these days - but he can’t seem to reconcile his new life with who he’s always been.

Alec seems certain that he’ll get his magic back, one day. Catarina insists that he’s mourning what he’s lost; both agree that he’s going through a period of inevitable grief. Yet, neither of them, in their infinite wisdom, have ever been as critical towards Magnus as he is.

Pity is easy. It’s maintaining faith, in himself, most of all, that’s the hardest - being a warlock is all he has ever known, and even with all of the trouble it’s brought him, all of the near-death experiences, the passing of his mother, the countless losses he’s endured … his magic is everything. Or, it was .

It is, he believes, the worst loss he’s ever experienced; in a way, a part of him has died, and he has to learn how to begin again, how to exist without this vital part of himself. It’s exhausting, in more ways than one, and Magnus is losing out on hope that he’ll ever return to any semblance of who he used to be.

He wants to, because living as a ghost is no life to live - he just, doesn’t have the same fire anymore. Not even his many years of experience have taught him how to deal with this new life he’s found himself in.

Celebrating his birthday feels like going through the motions of somebody else, somebody he’s expected to be, not who he truly is - but, then, Alec is putting so much energy and love into this that Magnus can’t find the strength to admit it.

If nothing else, this will at least be a good day, because Alec is here, and he’s smiling, and those are two of Magnus’ favourite things in the world.

“See? No smoke.”

Alec looks so immensely proud of himself, with his whisk-taker apron, an old gift from Isabelle he’d recently dug up, tied around his waist. It’s hard not to smile.

“I’m very impressed.” Magnus tugs his robe closer, part of him wishing it would serve as a binding to keep himself together as well. “So, what is on the menu?”

Alec nods towards the table, which is laden with immeasurable goods. “Croissants, both almond and chocolate, from Elsie’s; raspberry and white chocolate mini-muffins that I made yesterday; and blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. And coffee, of course.”

“Best not to forget the most important part,” Magnus acknowledges, in a distant voice, too swept up in pure awe.

Alec did all of this … for Magnus.

“Alexander, this is - too much.” Magnus’ hands tremble against his abdomen. “You didn’t have to go to all of this effort just for me.”

“I was in the mood for pancakes.” Alec winks, but his carefree attitude doesn’t last long, his grin fading into something more melancholy, but no less sincere. “I wanted to do this for you, Magnus. You deserve this - you deserve everything. I’m just trying to give you what I can.”

Magnus shakes his head, an undeniable lightness soaring within him. “You, my love, are all I need.”

Alec’s cheeks burn a fervent pink, but he doesn’t back down, either. “So, I went to all of this effort for nothing?”

Magnus glances at the spread of breakfast foods, ignoring the tiny pang in his chest. Relationships take effort, a tiny voice whispers in the echoes of his dark mind.

“Not at all.” Magnus summons a smile, and by some grace of the universe, it doesn’t fail him. “Alexander, this is wonderful, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

Alec shrugs, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s your birthday. This was the least that I could do.”

“You say that as though it isn’t a respectable feat,” Magnus nods towards the table. “For the organisation required, if nothing else. It means a lot to me, Alexander. Thank you.”

“Well,” Alec busies himself at the coffee machine, the low whir serving as background noise for his floundering. “I’m glad you - appreciate, it.”

Magnus walks towards Alec slowly, not wanting him to be spooked, yet also not being able to withstand the distance for much longer. He loops his arms around Alec’s waist, tucking his head against Alec’s neck, drawing what little strength he can from the surety of Alec’s shoulders and the warmth that radiates off him.

Alec gives Magnus the sense that he can take on the world, when he barely has the energy to even get out of bed. And then he makes breakfast .

“Hi,” Alec whispers, slipping Magnus’ ‘M’ mug onto the metal tray. “You’re very affectionate this morning, you haven’t even had any breakfast, yet.”

Magnus drops a kiss to the hinge of Alec’s jaw. “Did you lace it with a love potion or something?”

“As if I know anybody that would give me one of those,” Alec quirks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a tiny smirk. “I’m just trying to figure out what has gotten you so - cuddly.”

He doesn’t mention that Magnus used to be touchy, before, much more than this, that he’s always been the more tactile partner in this relationship - he doesn’t mention any of it, but he doesn’t have to.

Magnus is re-learning how to touch, without the buzz of energy under his skin, the zap on contact, the warmth that sparks when his magic recognises the person he’s touching - he’s learning how to push past the emptiness, how to keep it from dragging him under the weight of his own sadness.

This is a big step, and he hates that it’s such an accomplishment for him to hug his own boyfriend, but he’s also not going to ignore the fact that it is, for him, quite the milestone.

“I’ve missed you,” Magnus explains. “ This. Us, in this way. I know that I haven’t-“

Alec’s hand curls over Magnus where it rests against Alec’s hip. “You haven’t been through just an ordinary bad day, you’ve had your entire sense of being stripped away. You don’t owe me, or yourself, or anybody else anything , okay? You set the pace, and I’ll follow as closely as you want.”

“I always want you right beside me,” Magnus murmurs, burrowing his face against Alec’s cheek. “I'm just worried that I might be … holding you back. Holding us, back.”

Alec gently nudges Magnus’ shoulder, turning in his arms until they’re facing each other, his hands coming up to wrap around Magnus’ neck. Magnus, after a few hesitant and heavy seconds, rests his hands on Alec’s waist, his fingers bunched up in the fabric of his black t-shirt.

“Magnus.” Alec’s gaze skitters across Magnus’ face, his sincerity strong enough to drown in. “I love you, and nothing is ever going to change that - what you’re going through is awful, and I won’t pretend that I know what it’s like because I don’t , but I can promise that I’ll be here to help you in whatever way you need. This is an obstacle, probably the biggest one you’ve ever had to overcome, but still an obstacle - you’ll get through this, because you’re the strongest person I know, and far bigger than anything that wants to keep you down.”

Alec strokes his thumb against the curve of Magnus’ ear, his cuffs long since locked away with the rest of his jewelry. “All the same, it’s okay if it’s not easy. It’s okay if you don’t want to get out of bed, if you hate the world, if you want to invent a time machine just to go back before everything went wrong - that’s okay. It doesn’t mean that you’re going backwards, or going stale or anything like that.”

Alec’s smile turns wry, and a little deprecating. “It just makes you human. Sorry, it kinda sucks, sometimes.”

Magnus shrugs, his hands tightening their grasp. “It’s not all that bad, I suppose. I’ve got you by my side, after all. Things could be a lot worse.”

Admitting it aloud lets a slow realisation sink in; being human, as Alec put it, is his new normal, and things could really be a hell of a lot worse.

He still has Alec by his side, and with that support behind him, he can do anything.

#malec #malec fic #happy birthday magnus bane #my fic #my writing #shfanficnexus #magnus bane #alec lightwood #canon compliant #shadowhunters #post 3a #sh fic #fluff and angst and hurt/comfort

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imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 6 years

Text

Soul-mates

Request : A soulmate au with Alec would be super cute 😍 like maybe the reader gets hurt somehow and physical contact with soulmates helps heal or something?? And both the reader and Alec are trying to resist the soulmate pull cause they don’t get along at first but then just super fluffy and cute. Does that make sense? 😂❤️ (ANONYMOUS)

Summary : Have you ever heard of the bond that a Soul-mate can have? Imagine a Parabati bond but stronger, imagine healing within seconds because someone touched you. Well imagine how hard that must be when you get hurt but the one person who can help you, hates you.

Warnings : Strong language in parts. Magnus is a clear Disney Fan.

Pairing : Alec Lightwood x Reader

Word Count : 2,861

“Get off of me!” Alec yelled at you, shaking your free hand from his arm as you tried to help him up. It was the first mission that required the whole team's participation as the institute was alerted that Valentine and Jonathan Christopher were seen tracking down a Warlock in this particular area.

Alec had been cornered, and he was unwilling to let you help him out of his rough patch. In fact, he seemed irritated at your eagerness to help. You had been aware lately that there was this almost magnetic pull that drew you to him. But it was definitely one sided. Alec couldn't stand to be around you. He also hated it when people thought that he was weak. “I can do it myself!” pulling himself up and shooting an arrow in your direction. “Alec!” You cried, closing your eyes tight as you thought it was going to hit you. However, the impact never came. Instead the arrow flew passed your head and struck one of Valentine's forsaken smack bang in the centre of his chest. For a second, you thought that your eyes locked with his. Knowing it was a crazy assumption you slapped the thought away. This was Alec, the boy that flipped you off with his eyes, the boy who would make a sarcastic comment about any strategic plan that you had. Knowing full well that they were almost always successful, pissing him off even more. “Y/N!” Isabelle screamed from across the alleyway, advancing towards you with her whip at the ready. “Get down!” And yet it was too late, the impact of a sharp instrument entered your back and poked out through your chest. You watched stunned at what had happened. Noticing the blood drops hitting the floor at the end of the blade. Everything was quiet as Jace, Isabelle and Clary ran towards you. You could see the scene play out, plenty of screaming and crying. “Y/N?” But, Jace's voice was the only thing that broke through the silence at first, “Alec help me help her up will you?” “No.. I c-” Alec's stern voice was the last thing you heard before you fell into Jace's arms.

“There's my little girl!” Luke laughed when he saw you try to walk for the first time. “You can do it, come on.” The room was filled with muffled cheers, as they tried their hardest not to startle you. Your mother Jocelyn was eyeing you with a mixture of fear and pride, “Don't push her too hard Luke, she will walk when she is ready.” Clary was dangling a toy in front of your face as if you were a dog, guiding you towards her step father Luke. “She is getting better at this daddy.” She wrapped herself into Luke's lap, watching her little sister lift herself up from the floor and stand unsteadily on both feet. Everyone cheered louder than they expected which startled you. Resulting in you landing back down onto your butt with a substantial thud. A small cry left your lips. “No no no,” Luke rushed over to you picking you up and cradling you in his arms as you rubbed your tiny fists against your eyes. Something was strange about this memory, it wasn't as if you were remembering it from the perspective of the younger version of yourself. It was as if you were present there too, stood in the room watching it all play out as if it were a movie. “Don't cry little one, it's okay. You are in a family of fighters. If you fall, you can always pick yourself back up again.” Luke spoke to the small girl in his arms. “Do you hear me Y/N, pick yourself back up again!” This time Luke was staring right at you, the spectator. “You fell. Now pick yourself back up!”

The words that were directed at you with so much fear, it startled you awake. When you opened your eyes you found yourself to be in a very familiar environment. The institute infirmary, but you were all alone. Lifting your head ever so slightly you gazed at the gauze taped around the middle of you chest. A sharp sting erupted from you body when you remembered what happened. “Ah!” Crying out as you tried to reach for the area. The monitor that you were wired up to started beeping like mad. The sudden movement to observe your situation caused a strong sense of pain travel through you body, resulting in an increase of your heart rate. Sometimes it was a good thing that you watched all of those doctor programmes on the television in your free time. “You will heal, but it will be hard and it will take some time. It's a pretty bad wound you got there.” Alec spoke up from the doorway, arms crossed, his usual authoritative stance. He turned around as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared through the door. Part of you had thought that you had imagined him there the entire time. Maybe a hallucination from the pain and drugs that they had given you when your healing rune had failed. You couldn't help but feel saddened by the fact that Alec was this way with you. Clary, your sister, became a Shadowhunter (in training) when she was 18 in order to assist in finding the Mortal Cup. However, your dad Luke trained you to become a police officer, something your mother Jocelyn hated, but hated considerably less to you becoming a Shadowhunter. Once your mother had died, Luke panicked. He didn't know how to protect you any more, and doubted whether you joining the police was the right thing for you. Becoming a Shadowhunter was tough, you were starting late and the one person who was assigned to train you was Alec. Only problem was, he never liked you. You didn't know whether he felt bad because you knew what he had done or whether it was something more personal. Clary had told you on many occasions when you couldn't help but tear up over it, that it was just the way that he was. Over time you thought that his hatred would decrease, but it didn't. He point blank refused to train you when you told him that you found some of his instructions too difficult to comprehend. Calling you a pathetic invalid, “it's not my fault you cant understand the basics of battle training!”

“I have a theory, a theory that may help us to understand why she is not healing.” Magnus spoke from in front of you bed. It had been a couple of hours since you had woken to find the ignorant leader in the doorway of the infirmary. Magnus was one of your closest friends at the institute. You got on with everyone, but he always made you feel like you were special, acting more like an OLDER brother. “Have you tried using a Soul-mate bond?” “What on earth is a Soul-mate bond? You mean like a Parabati bond?” Jace said holding onto your hand and squeezing it, his other reaching for his rune on his torso. Magnus shook his head vigorously. “No this is different. This is like.. How should I put it,” he paused and we all watched as he searched for the right words, “Disney, yes Disney.” The grin on his face, obviously showed that he was satisfied with his answer. But by our confused gazes he had to continue. “In a Disney film, Snow White was brought back from death by her true love's kiss. Sleeping Beauty raised from a coma after pricking her finger on a spindle all because of a true love's kiss...” “Wow Magnus, you need to stop drinking.” You said laughing, then regretting it as it sent a stinging paint to your chest. “So what you're saying is, I need to kiss someone?” Your head fell down as you knew there was no hope of healing. “Fucking hell, never kissed a guy and now I have to be prostituted out across the institute to see if they can stitch me back together, yeah no thanks.” You mumble under your breath, hoping your sister doesn't pick up on your cynical behaviour. “Y/N!” She yelled, he clearly heard what you said, 'damn' you thought. “I know it's not ideal, but you need to heal.” “Come 'ere then, let me kiss you!” You mocked Clary, holding your arms out in front of you. “Ew no I'm your sister!” Her faced grimaced at your request. “Aha! Not nice is it when you have to kiss people you don't like!” You both burst out laughing and from the corner of your eye, he was there again. Standing in the doorway of the infirmary. For a split second, you thought you saw him smile. “Before anyone goes around kissing anyone!” Magnus was holding a book in his hand. “There may be another way. It doesn't have to be a kiss.” Jace leaned over to read the book that Magnus held in his hands, scanning the page that he had been reading from. “It says here that a Soul-mate can heal all wounds. Transfer pain from their partner by a simple compassionate touch.” His smile faded, “Looks like it isn't me then.” You knew he wasn’t upset by it, he was only trying to lift your spirits. “Maybe next time, Jace.” He squeezed your hand and sat back down.

Two days had passed and you were slowly started to feel yourself again, even though you still had a gaping hole in the middle of your chest. “Can I come in?” It was him, Mr Head of the Institute. “You make the rules, so whatever you want Mr Boss Man.” Your arms went behind your back as you tried to lift yourself into a sitting position. “Fuck me, that hurt,” you muttered as the pain shot through your entire body. “Hmm?” “Nothing, Alec. What brings you to my humble abode?” At least you didn't lose your sense of humour in the accident. “Why did you do it?” He broke the silence, but still keeping his distance from you. Your confused expression on your face gave little away. “Why did you continue to protect me in the mission.” Your shoulders shrugged while you weighed it out in your head. “It's what we do, we are Shadowhunters!” “Bullshit! The only other person you would do that for is Clary, and she wasn't far from me. Why protect me?” He eyed up the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing on the planet. “When all I’ve ever done is given you shit.” “Why is that?” Taking a sip of water from your cup, your mouth all of a sudden very dry. “Why do you always act like you hate me.” It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. “I don't know.” His voice cracked, something you have never heard before with him. “I guess I never forgave myself for what I did to Jocelyn. I wanted you to hate me the way that I hate myself each and everyday. So I teased you and ignored you most of the time. I made your life harder than everyone else's in training because I wanted you to hate me. Make you feel like I was pushing you too hard to be mean. But I also wanted you to learn how to protect yourself the best way you could.” A flash of guilt flooded his face as he edged slightly closer to your bed. “So you don't hate me?” He responded by shaking his head. “I don't hate you, just so you know. I don't blame you either, you know for my mum?” “But why? Why wont you and Clary hate me. I did something bad.” He sat at the edge of your bed close to tears. “I took away someone you loved.” There was yet another voice crack. Hearing him confess like this did soften your heart. You weren't lying. You didn't hate him, but you also couldn't forget what you saw on the footage. “It wasn't your fault Alec, it wasn't you.” The room was filled with sobs, but it wasn't his. They were yours, the sudden reflection on past memories burned at your gut. All of a sudden, there were arms wrapped around your body and lulling you, calming you, and smoothing over your hair. “Shhh,” he whispered letting out a few tears himself now that you couldn't see his weakness. You. “Alec?” You pulled away from him and he shot his head around wiping the evidence from his face. “I don't feel so good.” You said as your chest began to burn. The monitor was going crazy as your heart rate changed pace rapidly. “What's happening to me?” Alec no longer cared that you were his weakness, he didn't care that you were now watching him cry as he called for help. Scared shitless that he was going to lose you. “Can I get some fucking help in here please!” Turning back to you and stroked your hair from your face. “It's gonna be okay Y/N. I'm not going anywhere, you're not going anywhere. You're staying with me okay?” The tears stung his eyes and his chest burned like mad, “stay with me!” he repeated before your eyes shut, and his face faded with everything turning black.

“Would you quit it, please!” You screamed as Alec threw you back down onto the mat just as you had regained your balance on your feet. “It hurts, and you're not giving me enough time to get ready.” “Really Y/N? No one and I repeat no one is going to give you enough time to get ready when we are under attack. They are not going to just stop, stand back, allow you to regain your bearings and then continue with the fight. That is not how real life works.” He yelled back at you. You hated training with Alec, he was far too rough with you. You had put a request in for Clary or even Jace to train you, but unfortunately they were both denied. “Okay I get it, but this isn't a battle. This is training and I am not going to learn if you don't ease up a bit.” You rubbed at your lower back as it trembled from the impact with the mat. Only to have your feet knocked out from under you sending you back down where you started. “I am not like you! For fuck's sake Alec!” “Fine, if you do not want to learn. Then you can find a new Shadowhunter to train your weak ass.” The last thing you saw was him walking out in a huff through the door. “Don't come crying to me when you die!” Tears filled your eyes as you pushed yourself up from the mat. Almost falling back down from the shear weakness of your body. “Oww!” Left your lips, hobbling towards your bag in the corner of the room. Lifting the strap onto your shoulder and limping out of the training room.

Alec's head shot up from where he was resting it against his arms on your bed. He had spent all night since you crashed out waiting for you to wake back up. He had only stirred what you moved slightly, which was pretty much the entire night. “Y/N?” Your eyes were now fluttering, threatening to open but when they did you instantly regretted it. The light burned your eyes. “Hey!” Alec whispered gripping your hand tighter, probably preventing the blood flow to your fingers. “how are you doing?” His free hand raised to your head and swiped the stray strands of hair from your forehead. “My own little sleeping white.” You snickered at his response. “That wasn't right was it?” You shook your head ever so slightly not wanting to move too much. “Ah well, not the point.” “What happened Alec? Why did I crash?” He simply pointed to your bandaged area but the bandage was no longer there. “Alec?” “Hey Soul-mate!” He had the biggest grin on his face as he placed a delicate kiss to your forehead. “You're all healed up now.” You began to shake your head, not truly convinced. “Nuhuh,” his eyebrows furrowed, “I haven't had my true love's kiss yet.” The corners of his lips rose to expose a cheesy smile. One that melted your heart but increased your smile. “Well in that case.” He slowly leaned down so that he was mere centimetres from your face, cupping your cheek with one hand but still holding tightly to yours with the other. The kiss was nothing like you expected it to be, you thought it was going to be rough like his fighting skills, but it was definitively a pleasant surprise. Slow and sweet and full of love. When he tried to pull away your hand shot to the back of his head, pulling him back down to continue the kiss. He was your Soul-mate after all.

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desertflower303 · 6 years

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“Clary’s Dead” chapter 2

As promised here’s the next angsty grief filled chapter. This is an excerpt, please see the link below for full chapter. Enjoy

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Ch 2. Grief

Jace sat on the edge of her bed holding a piece of charcoal from her easle. He twirled it around his fingers in staring blankly ahead. The past week had been a surreal blur. He’d been removed from duty indefinitely to be evaluated by the Clave. He’d walked through every test and hoop, been poked and prodded every which way. He’d gone through everything like he was a robot, the initial searing pain of his grief giving way to a kind of numbness, or maybe it was just covering the grief, protecting him from feeling the onslaught of his emotions, he honestly couldn’t tell.

Alec had hardly left his side, insisting on being there in spite of protests from the Clave. They’d spent most of the time in relative silence. Jace had hardly managed to tell him about Clary, completely breaking down in the process, so Alec had been doing his best to avoid the subject for now. Izzy had been spending time with Simon making sure he was okay. He hadn’t seen Maryse yet, but they’d spoken briefly on the phone in between the testing.

Ultimately the Clave has found him fit for duty but insisted on placing him on bereavement leave considering the circumstances. For once in his life Jace didn’t argue. He might not be possessed anymore, but the residual effects on top of everything else had him feeling useless. He couldn’t escape the simple truth, that all of this was his fault. Every night he dreamed of her, loving her, kissing her, running toward her and never being able to save her. He avoided sleeping as much as possible until he couldn’t fight it, but then he would awake panicking and grasping for her only to remember she wasn’t there and never would be again. Sometimes he would cry, sometimes pound the bed with his fists and scream until his voice was horse and his breathing ragged. He’d always prided himself on being able to shut off his emotions to do what needed to be done, but this... he couldn’t shut this out no matter how hard he tried. He felt her loss everyday like a vital part of him was missing and he could never get it back.

————————————————————-

Follow this link for the full chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you think.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12974222/2/Clary-s-Dead

#jace herondale #clary fray #clace #clary x jace #alec lightwood #maryse lightwood #shadowhunters

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bamf-alec · 3 years

Text

All Things By A Law Divine

Chapters 11-15

Artist: Lady Koalart (who did an absolutely incredible job)

Beta: @jeanboulet

Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, various background pairings

Summary: Magnus had waited a long time for his soulmate to be born. Fate must have had a sick sense of humour, though, because after all these centuries, it had handed him a Shadowhunter. Magnus didn’t know who this Shadowhunter was, or how they could possibly be meant for each other, but he did know that this story wouldn't have a happy ending.

Alec also knew all about fate's sense of humour. He had known this his whole life. But the ground was coming up from under him and everything he knew was being turned on its head, systematically picked up and pulled apart and handed back to him looking nothing like it did before. Valentine was alive. His own parents had been members of the Circle. The Lightwoods’ grip on the Institute was slipping. And, through all this, his siblings had found their soulmates.

Alec had found Magnus. But that didn’t mean anything, did it?

Link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33515842/chapters/83272549

** I would really prefer you read it on AO3! **

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2021: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Chapter 11

Alec could not believe that he was here. He wasn’t sure that he was, actually. The crumpled address in his hand didn’t feel real. Neither did the door in front of him.

This was stupid. This was pointless.

Valentine was alive and sending Forsaken into the Institute. Valentine’s daughter was sleeping in the room across from Jace. Alec’s family was in very real danger of losing control of the Institute. Lydia had politely asked him if getting married might save it. Alec had nearly said yes, and then he had said no, and then he had said that he needed a minute to think about it.

In that minute, he had gone through the Institute database and found a warlock that specialized in souls, and the bonds between them. Then, he had taken a second minute. In that minute, Alec had taken a page out of his siblings’ book and snuck out of the Institute before anyone was awake enough to notice.

This would lead nowhere. Alec would reaffirm what he had always known, the voice of doubt Izzy had infested his mind with would quiet, and that would be that.

The door swung open so swiftly that Alec felt his hair move. A very pixie-like woman stood in front of him, barely coming up to the top of his ribcage. Her hair seemed like an entire other person, stark white, long, and massive. It looked like it was floating more than sitting on her head.

“Um,” Alec said, because the reason he was here had suddenly escaped him.

The woman sighed breathily, like she was quite tired or perhaps like she was bored of this plane of existence. She said, “Yes.”

Alec thought it was meant to be a question, but it didn’t sound like one. He shook himself. He glanced behind him at the street, which looked perfectly normal. Roses were dying in pots that went all the way around the house.

“You’re the Diviner?” he asked, despite how stupid it felt. The Diviner. Like it was pulled from a fairytale. A cliché one at that.

“Oh my,” she said, inexplicably. “You’d better come in. Yes, you’d better.”

Alec wasn’t sure all of that had been directed at him, but he stepped inside nonetheless. As the door closed behind him, most of the light in the room was shut out. Everything was cast in dark shadows. The winding staircase seemed to reach into oblivion, and he wasn’t certain that if he stepped forward there would be a floor there to catch him.

There was. She led him down the hallway to a sitting room, which had large bay windows that let in giant swaths of sunlight. Lace curtains did their best to temper it, to no success. When prompted, Alec took a seat on one of the floral couches. The Diviner sat across from him, a coffee table between them with an old-fashioned tea set on top.

“Tea?” she asked. He shook his head. She sighed that same, breathless sigh. “All the better. I only have mint.”

Alec sat on her couch, trying to figure out what to do with his hands, while she drank her mint tea and watched him. She didn’t blink.

He cleared his throat. It took him two attempts to get out the words, and even he could hear the reluctance in his tone. “I’m here about soulmates.”

“Yes,” she said. Again, it wasn’t a question. Alec thought it was probably because most people who came to see her were here about soulmates. He waited to see if she would say anything else. She didn’t.

His fingers only shook a little, not noticeable to anyone but him (he hoped), as he rolled up his sleeves to show her his wrists. Bare, as they had been for as long as he could remember.

“Blank,” she noted, unhelpfully. She took another sip of her tea. “They said it means you’re alone.”

It still wasn’t a question. She seemed to know everything about him already. He couldn’t decide if it was a relief or unnerving.

Alec frowned. Self-consciously, he tugged his sleeves back down. “They did.”

“You believe them?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s a tricky thing, belief. Sometimes it makes things true. What’s that called again? Plack… Plum…”

“Placebo effect,” Alec offered. “Are you saying I don’t have a soulmate because I don’t believe I have a soulmate?”

She sighed again. She drank her tea. She looked out the large, bay windows. “Did I say it was your belief?”

Alec blinked. She waited for an answer. Uncertainly, he said, “No?”

She leaned forward to reach across the table with an impatient flick of her fingers. The tea had vanished and, now that he thought about it, Alec couldn’t remember her ever having brewed it. It had just appeared, cup full in her hands, despite the teapot between them.

It took him a moment to understand what she wanted, and then another to roll his sleeves back up and offer her his wrist.

Her fingers were cold when they closed around it. Dainty. He watched her face instead. Her eyes were very dark, or maybe very bright. It was hard to tell. She pressed her nail into his skin until it bled, and he winced, resisting the urge to snatch his arm back. She seemed pleased by this.

“The other,” she demanded. He gave her his left wrist. She dug her nail in again. She seemed more pleased. “What a neat little lie. The sort we’re not supposed to tell.”

Alec felt dizzy. He stared at her very strange eyes and her nail, still digging through the first couple layers of his skin, and his wrist, blank. Not even a rune trespassed on it. “What?”

“Barbaric,” she continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. He did not interrupt her look of deep thought to tell her that ‘neat’ and ‘barbaric’ were two things that tended not to describe the same entity.

She dropped his arm. “Do you like stories, Mr. Lightwood?”

“No,” he said, because he had a feeling she wanted to tell him one, and he could feel his skin crawling all over with the need to just know, already. He ignored the fact that he had never given her his name. She was in the business of souls, and it seemed unsurprising that she would have some magic way of finding it out.

She looked a little disappointed. “Oh. Well, then I will just tell you. Your mark’s been erased.”

Alec felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He struggled, for many long seconds, to recover his breath. Fucking Isabelle, he thought, but the thought barely reached his conscious.

“Erased?” he repeated, urgently. “So I had one?”

She nodded. “So you had one. This kind of magic’s been outlawed since… Well, for quite a while. One of the few things that nearly everyone can agree on is that it's....”

“Barbaric?” he offered, but he wasn’t looking at her. He stared down at his hands, the two half-moons on his wrists. He ran his fingers over the left one, like he would feel whatever had been there, but of course he could not. So many emotions warred for dominance inside of him that instead he felt numb. He swallowed. “Can I get it back?”

“No,” she said, putting precisely zero effort into softening the blow. Alec had only an instant to feel both crushed and weightless at the same time before she continued. “But just because the mark is gone, doesn’t mean the bond is. Like ridding you of the symptoms, but not the disease. Denial is not as strong as belief, you know. It always falls apart.”

Alec ignored that she’d just compared having a soulmate to having a disease. He scrubbed his hands down his face and breathed in and out. He wondered if his siblings knew. He wondered if his parents knew.

And then he immediately felt stupid because of course his parents knew. Who else could have done this?

“I think I’ll take that tea now,” Alec muttered.

There was a knock at Alec’s door.

Please, Alec thought desperately to the ceiling, sprawled out on his bed. Please, Jace. Go save the world by yourself today.

Jace knocked again. When there was still no response, he opened the door to peer inside. It was the middle of the day and his room had two windows, but Alec had turned the light on anyway. He could feel the frown from across the room as Jace picked his way through scattered papers to the side of the bed.

“Dude,” he said, poking Alec’s foot. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Alec replied despairingly. Alec was not usually melodramatic, and he was not being melodramatic now. It was very possible that, in fact, everything was wrong.

Jace said agreeably, “Okay,” and then yanked on Alec’s feet until Alec’s knees slid off the end of the bed and he was forced to sit up.

Alec glared at him. “What?”

Jace had been Alec’s parabatai for too many years not to be immune to his glare. “Come with me.”

Alec laid back down. “No.”

Witheringly, “Alec.”

Also witheringly, “Fuck off.”

Jace sighed. He looked over Alec, assessing the damage, then patted his leg. “Wanna go kill some demons?”

Alec considered it. “No,” he decided.

Enticingly, Jace said, “There’s a whole nest of raveners at the docks.”

Less certainly, Alec repeated, “No.”

Jace seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, then. The bed dipped under his weight, his knee knocking into Alec’s. When Alec glanced up to see what he was doing, he found Jace watching him with a concerned expression. “Are you okay?” he asked. “For real?”

Alec looked at him. He swallowed. He was running his fingers over the blank skin on his wrist. It was going numb, and it was definitely red, but he couldn’t stop. Even when he knew that Jace had noticed.

His voice was very small when he admitted, “No, I’m really not.”

Jace, who had never heard him sound so lost in all the years they’d known each other, looked alarmed. He cast a glance at the door, probably wondering where Isabelle was, because usually she was the one that coaxed the truth out of Alec. But Jace knew that Isabelle was with Clary, and so did Alec.

Jace hesitated to ask, “Is this about Magnus?”

Alec didn’t react. He wanted to be surprised, or to be terrified that Jace had picked up on this thing that he had never told him. He could feel it, too, the shame and the fear and the knowledge that if he blew Jace off, he wouldn’t ask again. But it was so distant, so buried, beneath this numbness that had settled over Alec this morning and not gone away since.

“He seems nice,” Jace offered. When Alec looked at him, he looked supremely uncomfortable, because they both knew that this was not a thing they talked about. Jace didn’t talk about girls with Alec, either.

To spare him the awkwardness, Alec snorted. “Nice,” he repeated. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

Jace nodded. He looked away, around the room, seeking a change in subject.

Alec dug his fingernail into his wrist, right beside where someone else had done so already. “Did you feel it?” he asked. “Clary. If you hadn’t seen the mark, would you have known?”

Jace turned back to look at him again. His brow furrowed, but he gave the question real thought. “Maybe,” he replied. “Maybe not. I wanted it to be, and I felt connected to her, but I think… I don’t think, without the mark, that I would’ve been sure enough to act on it. I would’ve had too many doubts.”

It was not the answer Alec would have hoped for, if he’d been accustomed to hope. Of course Jace would have had doubts. Of course anyone, with no mark, would have doubts. The mark was a confirmation, a reassurance, a certainty. They existed for a reason.

This one, it said, with no room to question it. This is the one.

He thought about telling Jace about his stolen mark. He couldn’t find the words. What could Jace say that would help, anyway?

Nothing. There was nothing. The mark was gone. It would never not be gone. Alec would live in doubt for the foreseeable future. Maybe forever.

I suppose, the Diviner had told him when he’d asked how he would know the bond when he found it, you will just have to ask around.

Alec thought about asking Magnus about his soulmark, and shivered. There was absolutely no universe where he could be that brave.

Did he have to ask? Or would he know if he saw it, on Magnus’s wrist?

How foolish and naive to even consider that Magnus Bane could be his soulmate.

But doubt — stupid, niggling doubt — gave him pause. Alec wanted to know. He wanted to be certain.

He knew where he needed to go.

Chapter 12

“Hey,” said Alexander Lightwood, standing in front of the door to Magnus’s loft in jeans and a t-shirt. He scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t have any of his regular shadowhunter gear with him, nor were there any obvious wounds to tend to. He didn’t sound like he was here with urgency, so no one must be dying. “Can I come in?”

Delighted but trying not to show it, Magnus stepped aside to let him through. He watched Alec, hands tucked in his pockets, inspect his living room like he’d never seen it before. Magnus had only swapped out a few statement pieces since the last time he’d been here.

Magnus shook himself. “Drink?” he asked, gesturing to his drink cart. It was his favourite part of the loft, and he was not ashamed of it.

Alec gave him a dubious look. “It’s five in the afternoon.”

“Suit yourself,” Magnus shrugged. He tapped his fingers on the back of his couch, a plush green velvet. His rings clicked against each other. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brings you here this fine evening, Alexander?”

Alec frowned a bit at the use of his full name, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes flitted over Magnus, and then over his bookshelf, and then back over Magnus. They stayed just a second too long on his wrist, covered by his silk dress shirt.

Oh? Magnus thought, a thrill running through him.

“I wanted, um,” Alec paused. He looked away. His brow furrowed in distress. Adorable. “Actually, I didn’t really think of an excuse.”

Magnus laughed. “You could just say that you wanted to see me.”

He’d meant for it to ease the tension Alec was clearly feeling, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Alec’s jaw tightened, and he looked out the balcony doors at the city.

So maybe he hadn’t just wanted to see Magnus. He was here for a reason. A reason that had him pretending not to be looking at Magnus’s wrist again. Magnus’s heart tried to pick up its pace, but he stopped it before it got too carried away.

Alec let out a frustrated breath and shook his head, but it was directed at himself. He inspected one of the couches, debating if it was safe to sit on. Magnus threw himself onto one to demonstrate, and Alec gingerly took a seat. Across from Magnus, further away than he’d hoped.

Alec was looking at his hands when he said, “When you did the autopsy, and you came in while I was training. Did you see…?”

“Your mark?” Magnus finished for him. Alec looked immediately relieved, like that was answer enough, which confused him. “No. Why?”

“No reason,” Alec said too quickly. He leaned back on the couch, much less tense. He looked around, obviously trying to change the subject as fast as possible. His eyes lit up a bit when he found something. “Books. You have so many. You read?”

Magnus did not laugh, even though he wanted to, because it might’ve been strange when Alec didn’t know that Magnus had read more pieces of literature from his wrist than from any book in the last two decades. He also did not laugh at the desperate, stilted attempt at small talk, because Magnus was nice and he found the awkwardness endearing.

“I used to,” he offered conversationally. “Not so much anymore. I think I stopped around the… 20’s? 30’s? I had enough stories of my own, and I was growing bored of reading other people’s made-up ones. You?”

Alec hummed thoughtfully. “I used to,” he echoed. “It’s hard to find the time, now.”

Magnus was reminded that the boy across from him had many things on his shoulders, probably more than Magnus knew about. “Would you like to borrow something? I can think of some recommendations I might have.”

“Oh,” said Alec, a bit taken aback, but in a good way. “Yeah, sure. That’d be… That’d be nice.”

Smiling amiably, Magnus set about retrieving the books he was thinking of. He passed them each to Alec, who had followed him into his study where he kept most of them, and gave him a brief synopsis of each. Because he was Magnus, most of the synopses were inaccurate and consisted more of jokes than any valuable information. Alec only smiled, amused.

At six, Alec finally allowed Magnus to make him a drink. They drank them on the balcony. It was winter, so the sun was already starting to set, and it cast an orangey-pink hue over the city.

At eight, Alec’s phone went off, and he made an unhappy face at whatever name was on the screen. He looked at Magnus, stuffing it back in his pocket. His eyes followed the length of Magnus’s arm to the glass he was holding, but stopped just a bit short.

“I should go,” he said. “Institute things to take care of.”

He’d waved a vague hand around to indicate the things that needed doing. It was charming.

Magnus sighed, softly, so that Alec wouldn’t hear. “Of course. You’ll tell me what you think?”

Alec looked confused for a second before he followed Magnus’s gaze to the short stack of books on the coffee table inside. “Oh!” he said. “Right, yeah. I’ll text you?”

“Or you could come over and tell me in person,” Magnus offered, but he also shrugged to indicate that both were equally sound options.

Alec met his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He looked like he’d gotten a bit lost in space for a second, but then he smiled. He politely handed Magnus his empty glass, retrieved the books, and let Magnus walk him to the door.

Magnus waved him off when the door opened, already beginning to tidy up the mess he’d made while mixing their drinks. He looked up in confusion when he didn’t hear the door shut.

Alec had stopped in the doorway, his hand on the knob. He turned back to Magnus, and his expression was steeled. Magnus raised one questioning eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have one,” Alec said suddenly. He sounded very decisive. “I asked if you’d seen my mark, because I don’t have one. I think my parents probably figured out it wouldn’t lead to someone they approved of, so they got rid of it.”

The door shut behind him, the sound infinitely louder than it should’ve been, and Magnus could do nothing but blink.

Chapter 13

It took Magnus a very long time to process the information he’d been given. It grew dark outside while he sat on his couch. He’d collapsed onto it a while ago, when his knees had gone a bit weak.

Magnus considered the facts.

Alec was his soulmate. He was certain of it, now. The marks matched too well, and he had felt it with his magic.

Alec did not know that he was his soulmate, because Alec didn’t have a soulmark.

Alec didn’t have a soulmark, because someone wretched had wiped it away.

Magnus had been waiting impatiently for Alec to just figure it out already, because surely the mark couldn’t be that difficult to interpret, while Alec had actually not been figuring anything out, because bare skin was quite difficult to interpret.

No, he’s definitely figured something out, Magnus amended.

He replayed the words again. He brought up Alec’s face, and his tone, and how he’d looked when he’d first gotten here, too.

It seemed like this was new information to him, too. And if that was true, then Alec’s bare wrist must have meant something different to him before. Then Alec had spent his whole life thinking there was nothing there because there was noone for him.

Now, Magnus remembered that Izzy had texted him to ask about his mark, and he realized she had been asking because she had been hoping this wasn’t true. Had Alec? Or had he just accepted it and resigned himself to being alone forever while everyone around him found love?

Magnus was beginning to get to know Alec, and he thought the latter was much more likely.

He looked at his mark, now.

Fearless.

Magnus was probably reading too much into it, but it seemed darker than it had the last time he’d seen it, years ago. More certain. Conviction, rather than desperation.

Magnus leaned back until he could look at the chandelier above him. It was a magnificent thing. It wouldn’t be allowed in his loft if it wasn’t.

Very, very slowly, in the manner of dread and things much more awful, something crept up on him. He remembered a woman at his doorstep, the rain, and the circle carved into her neck. The tiny little thing in her arms, the only reason she would have ever put aside her uncompromising beliefs. The memory had been gone for years, buried because it was insignificant to him and his own life.

He reached for it now. It came back, some pieces so vivid he thought he could smell the rain in the air, and some pieces still blurry enough that it felt like a disc in a record player, skipping.

Nothing matters but protecting them, Maryse Lightwood had told him, holding her son in her arms. She had seen his eyes, cat-like. One of a kind.

Magnus did not let himself wonder if that was what had done it. He did not let himself wonder if this was his fault, if she might’ve been oblivious before she met him and left her son’s soul alone. He wouldn’t have been able to close his eyes ever again, if he did.

Magnus did let himself wonder how it had happened. Who had done it? It took magic — the dark, twisted kind — to bury a soul inside itself.

Could it be undone?

Magnus’s eyes cast into his study, where he knew he had a book on soulmagic. He stared at where he thought it might be on the shelf. He twisted his rings around and around.

No. He shook himself. Alec hadn’t asked for that. Alec hadn’t asked for anything. Magnus didn’t know what he wanted, and it wasn’t right to assume that he might.

He didn’t know how much Alec already knew.

Did he know Magnus was his soulmate? Or had he told him for some other reason, because it was a magic kind of curse and Magnus, too, was magic? Because it was a very different kind of thing and Magnus, too, was a very different kind of person? Because Alec’s only friends were his siblings, and his family was too caught up in it already?

Magnus wanted to call Catarina or Ragnor to say all of this out loud, but he couldn’t do that, either. Alec had trusted him, and he couldn’t break that.

So Magnus sat, and he drank, and he avoided looking at any of his spellbooks, and he wondered when it would be appropriate to ask Alec if they could see each other again.

Chapter 14

Alec couldn’t stand to be in the same room as his parents, and his mother was beginning to notice. Maryse was working up to confronting him about it, her frustration rising each time he left the room shortly after she entered it. It was frustration born mostly out of confusion, but also out of the fact that Alec had yet to give them an answer on his hypothetical impending nuptials.

Alec did not want to be confronted, so he avoided the Institute in general as much as he could. Thankfully, Maryse hadn’t been on active duty for pretty much as long as she’d lived in New York, so she kept mundane hours. When it was dark and she was most likely asleep, Alec was free to roam the Institute as much as he wanted. Most of his roaming ended in the training room.

“So,” Jace said. He was cut off briefly by Alec’s fists pummeling the punching bag he held steady against his chest, knocking some of the breath out of him. Jace shifted his feet to brace himself better. “You want to tell me what’s up or am I going to have to guess?”

Alec didn’t look at him or stop pummeling the punching bag. “You’re going to have to guess.”

“Okay.” Jace shrugged. He squinted like he was really assessing his parabatai. “A ravener demon snuck into your room last night and poisoned you, and now you are both suffering from, you know, being poisoned, but also not getting enough sleep. Because of the ravener demon. Am I close?”

Alec snorted. “Yes,” he said, taking a step back. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pushed the hair that was clinging to it off his face. “You got me, Jace. That’s exactly what happened.”

“I knew it,” Jace agreed happily. He patted the side of the punching bag as he stepped up to see Alec without having to crook his head around it. “For real, though. I can feel when something’s wrong, Alec. And lately the parabatai bond’s been… a mess. I let you have your moment the other day and gave you time to sort it out yourself, but now I’m worried, man.”

Alec clenched his jaw, inspecting his knuckles. Bleeding, ripped open where they hadn’t had a chance to heal from yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. He barely felt it.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Okay. Then how about it’s none of your business?”

“Alec,” Jace sighed. He gave Alec a longsuffering look. Alec gave him the same look back, but more surly. They stared each other down for a minute, both too stubborn to look away and admit defeat.

Finally, Alec let out a long breath. He scraped his fingers through his hair, wet from the hour he’d been in here before Jace showed up under the guise of helping him train. He should’ve known. Jace was nowhere near as bad as Izzy, but he, too, was a nosy dick who couldn’t leave well enough alone. Not when it came to Alec.

Alec had been tired of his siblings always having something to say about his personal life years ago, and since then it had only gotten worse. It was only ever getting worse because in their eyes Alec was never getting better. How many times had Izzy made unsubtle comments about cute boys he might like to go out with? How many times had Jace slapped his shoulders and asked if he needed a wingman? How many sad, pitiful looks had they given him and his blank wrist and his nonexistent love life?

Like he could hear what Alec was thinking, Jace glanced around quickly. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice when he said, “Is this about your soulmark thing?”

Your soulmark thing.

That was what Jace had always called it, ever since Alec had fessed up and told him that he didn’t have one. Jace hadn’t believed him at first. Everyone had a soulmark. He’d turned both of Alec’s arms this way and that, like it was hiding in there somewhere, before he’d finally given up and accepted that Alec was telling the truth. Then he’d shown Alec the easel that spread across his entire wrist with a grim expression and admitted that he thought his soulmate might be a mundane. Shadowhunters didn’t have time for such hobbies, unless they were retired. It was doubtful a fourteen year old’s soulmate was in their sixties.

Alec wondered if it was strange for warlocks who had to wait centuries just for theirs to be born. How much life they had lived before them, how much they knew, and how little their soulmate would when they met them. Even if it were someone who shared their immortality, another warlock or a vampire or a seelie, they would have lived a dozen lives before the one they eventually shared with their soulmate.

It sounded lonely.

Did Magnus seem lonely?

Alec pursed his lips and burned the thought from his head, with fire. He shook his head at Jace. “It’s not about ‘my soulmark thing’.”

It was, of course.

Jace eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure? Because the other day you were asking me about Clary, and I thought that maybe it sounded like you’d found someone you liked, and that maybe you thought they could be the one.”

“I don’t have a soulmate, Jace,” Alec told him, even though he knew now that it was a lie. The lie came off his tongue as easily as breathing, because it had sounded like the truth for so many years now.

“But you found someone?” Jace asked. It was much gentler, quiet and hopeful, hesitant. Even more so when he ventured to add, “Maybe someone like Magnus Bane?”

Alec’s throat closed. He dug his fingers into the knuckles on his other hand. He looked his parabatai dead in the eyes, steadied himself, and said, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jace looked back for a very long moment. Then, he looked past Alec, out the archway that led into the hub. It had been a quiet night so far, so there were only two people watching the screens for signs of activity.

“Yeah,” Jace sighed eventually. He clasped Alec’s shoulder and gave him a wry smile on his way out. Jace waited until he was halfway out the door to turn around and add, “By the way, Lydia called Magnus in to fix the wards. From the Forsaken attack. I think he’s coming tomorrow.”

That fucking… Alec didn’t finish the thought. He made a frustrated noise, combing his fingers none too gently through his hair, digging them into his scalp. The frustration swelled quickly into anger, overwhelming only because he’d never felt it like this before. It was an all-encompassing anger, extending from his absent soulmark and his parents to Jace and Izzy and his expected marriage and Valentine and Clary and—

And…

Alec went back to his room. He peeled off his clothes, damp with sweat, and splashed water on his face. In the mirror, an unhappy face looked back at him. He pursed his lips and looked away, left the bathroom to sit on the edge of his bed.

He played with the bracelet on his wrist. Leather, worn over the years but still strong. A thin, intricate braid that must’ve taken weeks of work for someone so young, but so determined to make sure it was perfect.

Isabelle had given it to him when she was eight. She’d said that this way, just like everyone else who had a soulmark, if he looked at his wrist he would always know there was someone who loved him unconditionally.

It took a moment for Alec to realize he was crying. A sob ripped out of him before he could stop it. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and bit down hard on his lip. Minutes passed. He breathed deeply, in and out, until it felt like he was getting enough air again.

Then he dropped his hands. He twisted Izzy’s bracelet around his wrist, smoothing his thumb over the familiar pattern.

He glanced at the short stack of books on his desk, one finished and another bookmarked halfway through, and then at his phone on the nightstand, and then at the door. Somewhere, Izzy was probably taking off her makeup or picking out which heels she should slay demons in tomorrow. Jace was probably either with Clary or pretending he didn’t want to be. Magnus was probably… Doing whatever warlocks did. Brewing potions? Casting spells? Mixing drinks?

The thought of being alone when his head was such a mess sucked, but the thought of talking to any of them also sucked, so Alec chose what was most familiar. He turned the light off, kicked off his boots, and went to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for hours, praying for sleep but knowing it likely wouldn’t come.

Chapter 15

Magnus, though he did fix the Institute’s wards, ended up overstaying his welcome. He was pulled into some intricate plot to smuggle the mortal cup out of the Institute. Alec was notably absent for the entire process of retrieving it from some super special Shadowhunter storage box, but neither Jace nor Isabelle volunteered any information as to his whereabouts. When Magnus tried to ask, Izzy pursed her lips.

“I haven’t seen him all day. He’s probably…” She shared a look with Jace, who didn’t mask his concern in time. Izzy turned back to Magnus with a decisive nod. “Busy. He’s busy.”

Magnus frowned, but he let them be mysterious. “Well then, I suppose I’ll leave you to it. Give Biscuit my best.”

He saw Jace mouth ‘biscuit?’ to Isabelle, who shrugged. She smiled at Magnus. “Thank you so much for your help. We’ve got it from here. We’ll walk you out.”

“Actually,” Magnus interrupted. He looked between the two of them, the duffle bag Izzy was holding with the mortal cup, and the hub full of busy Shadowhunters. Robert Lightwood, who’d accompanied him while he reinforced the wards, was conspiring with a group of people at one of their holographic tables. Alec was still nowhere in sight. He turned a charming smile on the remaining Lightwood children. “I should check the wards again. Make sure everything’s in order. Don’t want any more Forsaken finding their way in.”

Jace shrugged and left, off to bring Clary the mortal cup. Isabelle stuck around for another moment. She watched Jace’s back until it disappeared through the door before she took a deep breath.

“He’s probably on the roof,” Isabelle told Magnus. She held his gaze, unwavering. “He was injured in the Forsaken attack. Maybe you could speed up the healing process for him.”

“Ah,” said Magnus. He rested a hand on her arm, squeezing. “Thank you.”

Isabelle smiled. It was tight and sad. Then she left, and Magnus immediately regretted not asking how to get to the roof. He sighed and braced himself for a long journey navigating the maze that was the Institute.

It did not take as long to find the access to the roof as it had to find the morgue, thank God, but it was still at least fifteen minutes before Magnus could breathe a sigh of relief and stop feeling dizzy at the endless identical hallways. It was only when he found the stairwell up that he paused.

Magnus hadn’t spoken to Alec since he’d paid Magnus that visit. It’d been well over a week. He’d hoped for a text or a call or another impromptu knock at his door, some sign of life, but received none. Magnus had questions and he had worries, and he had things that were both, but he also had no idea what was going on in Alec’s head. Would he want to talk about it? Or had he said what he’d said only to say it, to have it be said, and then to never have to bring it up again?

Magnus didn’t know. He liked to think he was starting to understand Alec, but clearly not well enough. Perhaps the best thing was just to give him space and wait for Alec to come to him. He must’ve known Magnus was coming. If he’d wanted to see him, he would have. The sensible thing was to leave.

Ah, well. Magnus had never been one for sensibility.

Alec was, in fact, on the roof. He was in a t-shirt that couldn’t possibly be warm enough for the windchill up here, but it gave Magnus a nice view of his arms and his shoulders. He had very nice, strong, Shadowhunter muscles, and was using them to draw back the string of his bow and fire arrows into the abyss.

Magnus stopped a few feet away from him. “Did the Institute run out of training dummies?”

Alec started, his fingers slipping on the arrow he’d been about to draw from the quiver. He spun with a frown that only deepened when he saw Magnus. Then he seemed to shake himself. Alec lowered the bow. “It’s quieter up here.”

Magnus hummed in agreement. He played with the insides of his pockets. He would never admit that he had spent twice as long as usual picking out what to wear, but he felt overdressed now. His cashmere, printed suit jacket blocked out most of the wind, but it didn’t compare to Alec’s t-shirt and jeans, both of which he could now see were full of holes.

Magnus’s brow furrowed. “Your arm,” he said. He waved a hand at the bandage around Alec’s left bicep. “May I? Free of charge.”

Alec shifted his jaw. He looked down at his arm. He shook his head, dark hair a moving mess. He made a ‘go ahead’ gesture and extended his arm to Magnus when he stepped forward to take it.

Magnus peeled the bandage back gently. The wound was deep and angry red, made an even angrier red by its contrast to the fresh iratze beside it. Magnus poked the rune. Alec hissed, jerking his arm a bit, and looked at Magnus like he’d been horribly betrayed.

“Sorry,” Magnus murmured. More carefully, he moved his hand over the wound and reached for his magic. It danced into his fingers and twirled into the space between his and Alec’s skin, and then vanished into the wound. The cut stitched itself shut in a blue haze and then smoothed itself over until it was like nothing had ever been there to start with.

Involuntarily, Magnus’s gaze dropped to Alec’s other arm. His wrist was still bare. Magnus shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was still finding it difficult to get used to the idea of someone just… not having a soulmark. This someone in particular.

Alec caught him looking and gently tugged his now healed arm free, pulling Magnus’s attention away. “Thanks.”

Magnus took a half step back and smiled. “My pleasure. As I said, if you ever need anything, I’m here. You could’ve called.”

“Yeah.” Alec shifted uncomfortably, not looking at him. He touched the top of his bow where it rested against the roof’s ledge. “I could’ve. Sorry, I… I didn’t text you. About the books. They were good.”

Magnus continued watching Alec’s face, even though it was turned away from him. “That’s alright. I’m glad you liked them. If you want, you could come over and I could lend you some more.”

Alec met his eyes, then started a bit like he hadn’t expected to. He rubbed his neck where the deflect rune was impossible to miss. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, his frown many meters deeper than when Magnus had first stepped out onto the roof. Then, he shook his head and met Magnus’s eyes again. The smile he offered was small and private. “I’d like that.”

Magnus offered the same kind of smile back. They looked at each other for another long moment while Magnus decided whether this was the time and place to have a real conversation.

It wasn’t. They were in the Institute, for one. Alec’s siblings were doing something that would no doubt get them into monumental trouble any minute now. Magnus needed to send a fire message to the warlock community with an update on the Valentine situation. Alec was bleeding, still, but from his hands. Magnus had felt it when he’d healed his arm, and he could see it now where it dripped between his fingers. He’d been up here a while, no protective gear while he fired arrow after arrow until every pull of the string dug into open wounds.

Magnus let out a breath. “Right, well. Call me? Or just stop by. Whenever you have the time. I’m usually around, and even more so after dark. I can make you a drink that you might not hate this time, and we can just… talk.”

He watched Alec swallow. He watched him inspect the cuts on his hand, poking at them until all of his fingers were bloody. When it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything, Magnus put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and said, “Okay. I’ll be seeing you, then. Take care of yourself, Alexander.”

Magnus only hesitated for a second before he gave Alec’s now healthy arm a squeeze. He turned away immediately after to go back the way he came. Not that he knew what way that was. He should’ve drawn a map.

Alec stopped him before he’d left the roof. “I’m sorry,” he said. He waited for Magnus to turn back around before he repeated it. “I’m sorry. For last time. Just dumping that on you. I know it’s a lot and it doesn’t really have anything to do with you.”

Magnus looked at Alec. Alec dug his bloody nails into his wrist. His bow rattled against the ledge with the wind.

“It does,” Magnus stated. He offered nothing else.

Alec looked at Magnus. Magnus let him, waiting patiently. He had centuries of experience in patience, despite what his friends might think.

Alec looked away, shaking his head. When he kept not looking at Magnus, Magnus accepted that that was that. He nodded, and turned around again to leave. This time, Alec let him.

He had wondered if Alec knew. He had wondered it as soon as he’d met him, and more when he’d realized it for himself, and more still after the last time they’d seen each other.

Alec did know. Magnus was certain of it now. It’d been written all over his face. He’d known when he’d showed up at Magnus’s door, and he knew it now, too.

Magnus knew from personal experience that accepting it was another story.

#shmb2021 #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #my writing

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