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amchara · 2 years

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Herondales Don't Fail Ch. 3 - Charm Offensive

Ao3 / 1 / 2 / 3

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters, Blackthorn family members, Emma Carstairs, Ash Morgenstern

Wordcount: 7,317 words (this chapter - 🙈 sorry its a long one folx)

Rating: Mature

Summary: It’s been almost five years since an epic line-up of Shadowhunter heroes and their allies closed all the portals to Hell. Now, demons are scarce and the Nephilim are searching for their purpose in this new world. Centurion Ty Blackthorn has been sent to London to investigate a potential new threat, while Kit Herondale has taken up a post helping to rebuild the London Enclave.

Kit was happy to accept the London Institute’s invitation to assist in the rebuilding of the city’s Enclave. But he didn’t count on being blindsided into joining the competition to become its next head - or being hated by most of its inhabitants who assume he’s only there because of his name.

---

“This stack can go to Christopher,” Roger slid some heavy files across the round table. It was early the next morning and the three candidates and Stormborn had moved into an old drawing room on the second floor of the Institute to start the handing-over process.

“Kit, it’s just Kit,” he said, biting back a yawn. If he was going to do this competition, he was going to do it as much as possible on his own terms. He had already gone to Evelyn’s office first thing that morning, dressed in gear but with his hair braided back and all earrings switched out to studs. He informed her in polite terms he would wear gear during weapons training and patrols but his other clothes were not up for discussion, nor the rest of his look, including his hair. And if she wanted to make a bigger deal of it, they could send a note to the Consul asking if there was actually an official dress code for Shadowhunters.

Kit had suppressed a grin as he watched Evelyn try to think of a response… but in the end she had just waved him out.

If she wanted to make something of his name, he could play that game too- reminding her of his own ties to powerful members of Shadowhunter society. But he had stayed deferential otherwise - he and Ty had discussed long into the night what kind of approach would be best when it came to investigating the Institute. Ty had thought he should play it relatively straight - as he pointed out, Evelyn already had doubts due to Kit’s background and if she wrote him off, that could allow him relatively free rein to investigate. But Kit wasn’t so sure that would fly… so he had adjusted.

Roger paused and corrected himself. “Kit. You can take over correspondence with the Americas Institutes, given you already have ties there.”

“Maybe he should cover a different region. If he’s already familiar with the Heads of US Institutes - it would be good to get different perspectives on Shadowhunter life,” Jacob said, as Kit reached across the table.

“Excellent idea,” Sabina cut in smoothly. “I think it would be good for all three of us to have different regions than we’re used to. In which case, I’ll take Europe and Africa, Dearborn,” she said, nodding at the stack in front of Jacob.

Jacob reluctantly held up his hands on the folders and Sabina tugged them towards her.

There was clearly no love lost between the other two London Shadowhunters, Kit noted, although he also noticed that Jacob’s gaze lingered on Sabina while she studiously avoided his gaze.

Kit didn’t care what region he’d be responsible for in terms of intra-Institute communication - perhaps it would’ve been easier to send Jace updates on official business but also- potentially awkward if it had been intercepted, given the vernacular he and Jace typically used on their correspondence. “Give me whatever region,” Kit said, making sure to inject a bored note into his voice. This was his other plan- as the son of Johnny Rook, who had often played a similar role- he knew an underwhelming presence could lull others into a false sense of security.

Stormborn watched the scene unfold as they all awkwardly swapped around the notes and then he cleared his throat. “I think perhaps we should lay down some general expectations around this competition and your roles,” he said. Sabina and Jacob’s attention snapped to him at the sharper tone entering his voice. “You all have expertise that Evelyn has deemed worthy enough to be considered to lead this Institute. You can prove it by demonstrating said expertise to us in practice, not squabbling like children or by thinking that up-one-manships will do you any good,” he said.

He looked like someone’s affable uncle, Kit thought, with his receding hairline, weak chin and a mouth that looked like it smiled way more than it frowned. But there was also something hiding behind his eyes, and Kit figured one didn’t get to be acting head of the London Institute without a mind for strategy.

Kit bit his lip to hide his amusement. He leant back in his chair as he listened to Roger outline the division of responsibilities for the next few months. Sabina would continue as Institute tutor, but Kit would cover training three mornings of the week, with Jacob taking over the Saturday morning slot. Jacob would scale back on his archivist responsibilities and Kit would take point on Downworld requests, (he winced internally at this, given his and Ty’s off-duty mission the previous evening), while informing the others on any joint missions. And they would all take turns shadowing the daily routines of the Institute, including paperwork. Kit made sure to let out an audible groan at that, which wasn’t just an act. He hated paperwork- having had a taste of it earlier in the summer- when Helen had decided that he could earn some of his keep at the L.A. Institute by helping clear some of her backlog.

Intriguingly, they would rotate ownership of leading external patrols or additional missions associated with the wraith investigation, as directed by the Centurions. Kit wondered if Ty and the other Centurions had already been made aware of this plan.

“What about budgeting and the running of the Institute in terms of costs and how it’s all paid for?” Kit asked near the end of the spiel, watching Roger closely. He didn’t want to lay all his cards on the table with the tithe issue- but leading yet perfectly reasonable questions, that was someplace he could start.

It was the slightest tell and Kit almost wasn’t sure if it had been there but while Roger’s face didn’t betray anything, his hands twitched and he put down his pen to quell them. “That’s mostly under Evelyn’s watch,” he told Kit calmly. “You’ll learn about that side of running the Institute from her, in due course.”

“Of course,” Kit gave him a sunny smile and prepared to settle in for Roger’s tutorial on appropriate intra-Institute communication. But he also stole a covert glance at Sabina, who had responded much more strongly to his question than he expected.

“Sabina-,” Kit hurried after her as she strode down the hallway towards the stairs to the Institute’s training room. “Can I get some time with you later this afternoon?”

She turned, folding her arms. “Pardon?” she asked, impatiently.

“The other Shadowhunters here- I’d like to know your view on how their training has been going,” Kit said. “You know, if I’m supposed to be taking over some of your shifts- I’d like to know what I’m walking into.”

She gave him a long, appraising look. “I’m about to do a warm-up before I head down to teach tumbling to the younger ones in the ballroom,” she said. “Can you chat and fight at the same time?”

“Even better, I can quip while I fight,” Kit told her, turning on the charm. While he wanted Evelyn and Roger to think him young and slightly feckless and not suitable for running an Institute, he planned a different strategy with his two competitors.

She shook her head slightly, unimpressed.

“So, you know how the evacuation of Idris went really quickly after the Cohort took over in 2012?” Sabina asked, as they squared off with some training sabres and went through basic drills.

“Well aware,” Kit said. He corrected himself. “Or- I was kinda in hiding at that point. But aware of the general facts.”

“A lot of them came to London and settled into the Enclave,” Sabina told him. “We had a big influx in the city for a while.”

“But?” Kit asked, as he parried an easy blow from her.

Sabina frowned slightly. “But it’s been hard to maintain manpower- and with Idris restored, over the past four years it’s been a struggle to keep the full numbers that we really need to patrol adequately.”

“The Dark War still has a lot to answer for,” Kit guessed. They finished the first set of drills and Kit drew back, waiting for her next move.

Sabina spun lazily and aimed low towards his feet. Kit knelt to block her, and pressed upwards, forcing her back. He didn’t try any fancy moves this time, more focused on the conversation.

She took a moment to respond, her eyes darting back and forth over his body, mirroring Kit. Both looking for weaknesses. “People leave- it’s an expensive city to live in and Institute life isn’t exactly great for young families. And once Idris re-opened- even in its current state, most went back if they came from there. So… we tend to get people who stay a couple years, then leave for a quieter, less eventful life. Demon attacks are more frequent here, despite the supposed decline and we have our share of Downworlder issues.”

“All big cities do,” Kit pointed out. Sabina narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t comment. “You haven’t mentioned the quality of fighting ability here at the Institute,” Kit said, going back to the original topic at hand. He adjusted his grip, following her form as they returned to some basic blocks.

She pursed her lips. “Most are adequate,” she said. Then, reconsidering, she added: “We lose more than we should- on patrol. Our casualty numbers have been high- not always fatal but higher injuries. I don’t know if it’s the quality of candidates or the-” she faltered. “Or the training. “I’ve increased required attendance sessions because of it,” she said shortly, slightly defensive. “Gone back to basics with most Enclave members.”

She met his eyes. “So,” she said. “I’d start there.” She stepped back as the last basic defense drills were completed. “I’m not going to do your work for you though- you want to be Head, you can make your own assessment,” she said, her voice chilly. She set down her sabre. “I’ll need to go down now,” she said.

Kit nodded his head at her. “Tithe time,” he said, almost under his breath, watching her carefully. She looked back at him confusedly, and Kit stifled a sigh. Whatever Sabina had reacted to in his questions around budgets earlier, it didn’t appear she knew about the tithe issue. But he did add her to the list of potential ominous text message-senders, given what she had just told him.

“Sure,” she said, giving him a tight smile. “See you around, Herondale.”

But she also seemed to dislike him- or at least, resent him for coming in and taking one of the competition spots. Not that he could blame her. So would she have tipped him off?

He debated telling her his deep reluctance to even be taking part in the competition. But he knew it wasn’t the right time- not until he knew more about the Institute and its inhabitants to rule her out as being part of the problem.

When he wasn’t shadowing, training, patrolling or getting his head around paperwork, Kit spent his limited free time the next few days reacquainting himself with the Institute. Despite his occasional visits to London in recent years, he hadn’t spent any time at the Institute properly since his first time with the Blackthorns - mainly because during his last extended time in the city he had been a wanted fugitive. He had been wary in the years afterwards, still preferring to stay with his parents in Devon when he visited the UK, or more recently, at the townhouse.

The London Institute remained as awe-inspiring as ever, its sparse Gothic beauty evident in the echoing halls, beautifully carved lintels and stone-tiled floors. But Kit could also see evidence of wear and tear he hadn’t remembered from before, like cracks in the intricate window panes, moth-eaten tapestries and broken door handles. He remembered Tessa had told him the London Institute had been the wealthiest and largest Institute and Enclave in her and Will’s day. Evidence pointed to that not being the case anymore…

And as Sabina had indicated, the London Enclave was still understaffed, with seven full-time Shadowhunters living at the Institute and a further three families who lived outside, alongside the Centurion office in the city, which helped to bolster patrol numbers. He had meant to ask Evelyn about the Institute’s finances but each time she had stuffed their meetings full to the brim with protocol and instructions, and with the other two candidates around, Kit didn’t want to tip them off yet.

It was quiet in another way too, in a way that had him feeling increasingly uneasy. He hadn’t seen any ghosts - or one ghost in particular - and he had been looking for her, given she might have some of the answers he was seeking.

“Jessamine?” he finally resorted to calling out cautiously, in several rooms. Unfortunately, that strategy backfired.

“Are you trying to talk to the local Institute ghost?” an amused Scottish voice came from the high-backed armchair by the fireplace. Kit rocked back on his heels as Jacob rose, his finger in a thick tome.

“I had heard the Herondale family had a talent for ghost-whispering,” he said, a small smile playing on his face.

“It’s true,” Kit said reluctantly. He didn’t volunteer more information even though he knew he should be friendlier with Jacob, make him trust Kit.

But he was still making up his mind on Jacob Dearborn. On one hand, despite Roger’s lecture, Kit suspected Jacob of still trying to sabotage him in smaller, subtler ways. A fire message sent by Jacob for a summons with Evelyn had arrived five minutes after the meeting was supposed to begin. His temporary room (which he was mainly using to store his gear and weapons), assigned by Jacob, was in the furthest reaches of the Institute’s maze of hallways, meaning he always seemed to miss the first few minutes of training sessions. And when he had asked for any notes on Downworlders in London, given his new role, Jacob had simply evaded. Kit was left trying to piece together a picture of the London Downworld through dusty filing cabinets and yellowing pages of handwritten notes, ahead of his planned meetings the following week.

On the other hand - and perhaps this was because Kit had other Dearborn interactions to compare with - Jacob didn’t seem to share the abhorrent views expressed by others of his family, as far as Kit had noticed. A low bar, sure- but Jacob did at least clear it.

“Hmm?” Kit realised Jacob had said something else to him.

“Are you trying to contact the Institute ghost, Jessamine Lovelace?” Jacob had come around to stand in front of him, looking down his long, aquiline nose.

“That’s right- have you seen or spoken with her recently?” Given his archivist position, Kit wasn’t surprised Jacob knew about Jessamine.

“No,” Jacob admitted, surprisingly glum in his manner. “She is surprisingly skittish- but even more so recently. I thought I had been making headway- we had an old chalkboard and she had been communicating through that, confirming facts I’ve found in the archives. But she’s stopped responding in recent months.”

“How long ago?” Kit asked, intrigued. “Have you tried setting it up in different places?” He remembered a long ago night spent on the steps of the Institute and Jessamine’s surprisingly good company.

“Of course!” Jacob seemed personally affronted by the question. “This isn’t my first time communing with undead spirits.”

Kit hid his amusement. “No, of course,” he said gravely. “It’s just that I wonder if she’s passed on?”

“I hope not,” Jacob said, and then hastily added. “Not that she canna… but last time we spoke she was in the middle of confirming the guest list for the annual Christmas party for the prewar years and seemed very keen on it. I think that was about- five months ago? Four months perhaps…” He eyed Kit and for once didn’t seem to be considering him as a rival. “If you see her, could you tell her I’m willing to go and purchase more of those American Girl dolls for her?”

“Because buying creepy dolls for ghosts is always the best plan…” Kit retorted but he revised it when Jacob looked confused at his initial sarcastic answer. “Uh huh, sure- no problem,” he answered. He started to back up slowly, out of the drawing room. “Anyway, given I can’t find her- I’m going to head to the library to research instead.”

“Understandable- we have the best library in Europe, including many rare and unique primary sources. What were you hoping to learn more about?” Jacob said, a touch pompously. But having seen the library - Kit could forgive him a little for that.

This was the first time Jacob had spoken more than a few polite words to him and opened up and Kit decided to press his advantage for more information. “Faerie lore,” he said casually. “Recent interactions with the Institute… and any faerie traditions associated with it- geas, tithes, you know that lot. Particularly if I’m going to reach out to the Courts and free Fae of London and represent the Institute.”

Jacob looked disconcerted. “I would’ve thought with your heritage, you’d be better versed in that than most Shadowhunters,” he said, his voice slightly stiff. Kit couldn’t tell if the look on Jacob’s handsome face meant he knew about the tithe or not.

“I only know one side-” Kit said, watching him carefully. “I’d like to understand the Nephilim view- and I thought Jessamine might be helpful, if she’s seen Fae representatives visit over the years.”

Jacob drew himself up. “I could help with that-” he said, not meeting Kit’s eyes. “Given our schedules and the size of the library, it would take you a while to find anything useful. I can weed out the unimportant chaff.”

Kit smiled. “That would be incredibly helpful- thanks Jacob.” And if it ended up being completely irrelevant information- that might also tell him something… like Jacob trying to throw him off onto the wrong trail, he thought.

“Mm,” Jacob said noncommittally. “And in return- if you do see Jessamine - or any local ghosts- I’d like to attend any conversations you have with them. You could be an incredible resource to my research.”

“It’s a deal,” Kit said immediately.

He resisted the urge to whistle as he walked down the hall after exiting. Another lead out- and depending on what Jacob turned up, it could help him figure out if Maryam’s comments were related to the rot within the Institute.

Kit could feel his chest heaving as he dodged another slow-moving tourist group. Ahead of him, Ade spared a quick glance back but didn’t slow his pace, his legs pumping effortlessly. Kit looked up as the shadow of the giant ferris wheel came into view on the river bank, thanking whatever deity was listening that their run was nearing its end.

Their route was around five miles but Ade had set a punishing pace from the start. Beginning at his flat just behind Whitechapel station, they ran along narrow graffitied streets around Aldgate, down modern roads buttressing remains of Roman walls, across Tower Bridge, to the bustling market areas around London Bridge and Southwark and to the increasingly tourist-crowded Southbank. Finally they rounded the curve of the Thames by the London Eye, directly across the river from Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.

Kit wasn’t sure if the unreasonable speed was retribution from his and Ty’s vampire intervention or just Ade running to get his frustrations out. Kit was paranoid it was the former. Ade had been short when Kit had met up with him outside his flat’s door, muttering about a rough couple of shifts, and shaking his head when Kit asked if he wanted to talk about it. They had stretched in silence before setting off.

Kit could also feel some tendrils of guilt continue sitting uncomfortably in his stomach, and he resolved to talk about the situation with Ade. He’d been so busy at the Institute he hadn’t had time to do more than arrange to meet up with his friend on the weekend, picking up their college habit of going on runs together, before they planned to meet up with their other friend Ellie for lunch. Ty was already at Blackthorn Hall for the day, with Kit joining him and the rest of the Blackthorns later on.

Ade finally started to slow in the park just behind the Eye. He threw himself down onto a grassy knoll. Kit jogged up, sweat streaming down his neck. He gestured the universal sign of ‘water’ to Ade, who nodded as he took out his earbuds. “You want something to eat too?” Kit asked, remembering their years in Devon when they used to go and gorge themselves at the local Wetherspoons after runs. He pointed to a nearby ice cream van.

Ade shook his head, sweat flying off. “Nah, bruv- can’t handle the sweet shit after a run. Literally,” he said, a brief grin emerging. He nodded towards a taco van parked beside it. “But get me some of those pork tacos and it’ll be grand.”

When Kit returned, he could see Ade staring intently at his phone. “All good?” he asked, and Ade shut it off quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” he said, the faint frown disappearing.

Kit sat down across from his friend, breathing in the muggy air. It was set to be another scorcher of a late summer day and even mid-morning, he could feel the humidity rising. “I don’t remember London being this hot,” he complained, pulling at his damp t-shirt.

“Global warming, innit,” Ade said, shrugging.

They ate their food in silence until Kit couldn’t stand it anymore. “Look- about Wednesday night. I’m sorry, man. I know Ty and I didn’t handle it the right way.”

Ade stared straight ahead, intently chewing. He took a moment before he answered. “No, you didn’t,” he said quietly. “Why not just tell me, instead of ambushing me and Maryam?”

Kit took a moment to answer. “I guess we could have. But you have to understand- Maryam might be okay… but not all vampires are. And you had magic around you that’s often used to keep mundanes docile and forgetful. Apparently she did it to try and protect you… but if she had had ill intentions, it was better to catch it in action.”

“Okay but… you both knew about the magic from when? When you met me the night Ty got hurt?” Ade demanded. He shook his head.

Kit shifted uncomfortably. “The morning after- Ty spotted it,” he confessed. “But we didn’t want to freak you out.”

Ade scrunched up his face. “That’s messed up, mate, you get that right? I should have a right to know if I’m being fucked up by magic.”

“Yeah. Sorry-”

But Ade wasn’t finished. He turned to look at Kit. “But you know what’s even more messed up- is how you treated Maryam,” he said firmly. “You need to apologise to her.”

Kit immediately opened his mouth to protest and he shut it again at the hard, closed off look on Ade’s face. He thought back to that evening. “Yeah, I suppose we went in too hard.”

“You went in like coppers- you know, assuming the worst of her.”

“I know, I know. The thing is… we kind of are,” Kit said slowly, feeling guilty. He remembered his initial revulsion around being told he was a Shadowhunter; he had grown up in the Market where it was anathema to have anything to do with them. When had the lines gotten so blurred for him that he didn’t immediately remember those facts?

“Shadowhunters have a policing role in what we do. More so in Ty’s role but I have to do it too sometimes.” But then he thought about the times he had seen Lily or Maia or Mark march into Clary and Jace’s office in New York and the joint missions that had been run with the Council. And how in contrast he hadn’t yet met any non-Shadowhunters in London so far at the Institute, other than at the initial wraith briefing. His meetings in the upcoming weeks with London’s Downworld might be more challenging than he originally anticipated, he realised.

“I thought you were like- demon hunters,” Ade asked, with a slightly confused look. “You know, with your cool lightsaber swords and all that.” He waved his arm in demonstration. “Hold on- are demons also misunderstood? Thought you said they’re evil?”

“Demons are evil - pretty much solely concentrated on eating your face or demanding your soul for eternity,” Kit reassured him. “But Downworlders- vampires, werewolves, warlocks, faeries etc. aren’t as easy to classify into all good or bad, no matter how much some Shadowhunters want that distinction. But uh- It’s kinda what Nephilim were created to be. The protectors of humans- mundanes- from any evil creatures that go bump in the night. Not that we’re all good either.”

He sighed. “Believe me, when I found out I was one, after growing up thinking I just had the Sight, I also thought the worst- thought they threw their weight around and were bullies. But as I got to know them, it became more nuanced than that.” Kit cut off his rambling, looking over to his friend.

“Hmm,” Ade made a non-commital noise.

Kit ducked his head, knowing how it sounded. He thought about the mundane news that he made a point of trying to keep up with regularly. “Look, I do get where you’re coming from. I’ll make it right with Maryam- apologise to her. I promise.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ade nod, but he didn’t say anything.

Kit worried a patch of grass near his sneaker as the silence between them stretched out. “Are we- are we okay, man?”

Ade took a long sip of his water. He nudged Kit with his foot. “You mean- am I calling you out. ACAB shit and refusing to have anything to do with you going forward?”

Kit squirmed at Ade’s accurate insight into his state of mind. He nodded, without saying anything further.

Ade sighed. “We’ve been friends for what- seven years now? I know you as Kit. Not as Shadowhunter recruit number seventeen or whatever.” He crumpled the rest of his food wrapper and tossed it like a basketball into a nearby bin. “Look- I have no problem calling you out if it’s needed, if I see you being a bigoted piece of shit, yeah? But let’s not make it more complicated than that right now. All right?”

“Totally fair.” Kit nodded, feeling relieved. “What about Ty?”

Ade huffed. “Same deal, okay? Also you’re not getting rid of me- nah, it’s not that easy. Especially as I’m apparently about to see more weird shit, thanks to my friendship with you,” he said, a wry look crossing his face.

“I am also sorry about that-” Kit groaned. “I never thought-”

Ade shoved him playfully. “Okay okay, even I’m getting bored now with the apologies and self-recrimination,” he said. “At least now I’ll be able to see those invisible things you and Ellie were always talking about…”

“Ellie is going to have opinions, for sure,” Kit said, beginning to smile.

“When does she not?” Ade laughed.

“I am so sorry-” Ellie covered her mouth. “I know I shouldn’t laugh but oh my god. Ade Olawale, the most down to earth, unruffled-” she cackled. “You’re about to get a rude awakening, if you haven’t already.”

Ade’s eyes widened across the small booth they had squeezed into, in an equally tiny Thai restaurant tucked behind Waterloo Station.

Kit tried to manage expectations. “I mean- it’s not going to be as bad as that...”

“True,” Ellie said, wiping her eyes. “I’m exaggerating- gotta love the drama. And you’re at least aware of what’s happening- for me, I just thought I had a really good imagination as a kid. ‘Though I did worry I was going crazy when I started seeing more and more glimpses of the Shadow World. Not helped by someone initially telling me I was imagining stuff…” She reached over to poke at Kit in the chest, exasperatedly.

Kit held his hands up in a mea culpa signal. “I was just trying to protect you both, remember?” They all fell silent as they remembered the last few incidents before Kit disappeared from Devon, driven away by the danger around him being the First Heir.

Ade broke the silence. “Well- we’re all in the club now, so initiate me,” he said.

Kit remembered the stories Simon had told him about recruitment of mundane Sighted teens, and his own experiences growing up in L.A. He outlined some quick pointers. “So… once you know not to eat or drink Faerie food, and you stay clear of spells- you just get used to just accepting that yeah- the local dude running the corner shop late shift is a ghoul, or those local bikers are actually werewolves…” Kit trailed off. He didn’t want to freak his friend out too much and he figured Ade’s practical nature would keep him away from the darker areas of the Shadow World.

A visibly worried Ade frowned. “Right. And will they notice me more now?”

“No. Unless you stick your nose into their business. Just ignore it and walk on if you spot something weird and you’ll be fine,” Ellie replied, almost dismissively.

“Is that what you’re doing now, Ellie?” Kit asked, curious. Ellie had left the Shadowhunter Academy a few months before her Ascension ceremony, after her mum had been diagnosed with cancer. But that had been a few years ago- her mum had died since, and Ellie was back attending a mundane university in north London. “I know it must be hard- having been part of the Shadow World for a few years and then going back to mundane life.” He had tried it for a while himself, post-saving the world. And realised that for better or worse- his life was intertwined with Shadowhunters and the Downworld.

Ellie gave him an arch look, beneath her smudged black eyeliner. “Oh don’t give me that,” she said, almost peevishly. “I’ve coped. But if you want to know- I’ve left it all behind. I’m on my uni course and if I see any strange Downworld things, I just pretend I don’t.”

“Doesn’t exactly sound the healthiest,” Ade muttered. Kit was inclined to agree. But Ellie had a look of mulish disagreement that Kit didn’t want to say much more. He tried to be diplomatic.

“Okay but If you ever want to like- visit a Shadow Market or something, for old times sake, Ty and I would be happy to meet up with you there,” Kit told her, trying to bridge whatever gap was making her cold with him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done- they’d been fine when they had met up to go clubbing earlier in the week.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Oh so magnanimous,” she said. “I might not have gone all the way into becoming a Shadowhunter but I don’t need you baby-sitting me.”

Kit felt stung by Ellie’s response. “That’s not what I meant, El.”

“You can protect me,” Ade said, sensing the tension between Ellie and Kit. He grinned. “Despite Kit’s pointers, I still have practically no idea how this works- you can be my guide.”

“Me as well as this mysterious vampire-” Ellie said, brightening up. A brief look crossed her face that Kit wasn’t sure about, but she appeared to be allowing herself to be distracted. “Vampires are also soooo on trend,” she wiggled her eyebrows beneath her mauve fringe. “Not surprised that’s what dragged you fully into the Shadow World.” She looked mischievous. “If you need it, we got the ‘safe blood-donation’ talk from Luke at the Academy- I might have my notes around somewhere to share.”

Ade rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “We’re just friends,” he said. But he allowed himself to be pulled into describing Maryam, as Ellie dragged the details out of him, while Kit relaxed in the corner of the booth. He and Ellie answered Ade’s remaining questions and he was feeling better about the whole affair by the time they finished their meal.

As they were leaving Ellie pulled him aside. “Sorry for being snippy back there,” she said, her blue eyes bright in the sunshine. “But rather than me rehashing old haunts- how about you and Ty come a bit further into the mundane? Come to dinner at my house, and you can meet Ollie.”

Wanting to get back into Ellie’s good graces and also being curious about her new boyfriend- who she had said very little about so far, Kit quickly agreed.

“DIE, demon spawn,” Dru hissed across the board, throwing down her hand of cards.

Ash raised one white-blond eyebrow. “Ouch, my petal of loveliness,” he said mildly.

“Bit on the nose for Ash in terms of insults, isn’t it Dru?” Kit said, grinning. Dru stuck her tongue out at him.

Passing by with another huge carton of maple syrup, Julian peered down. “Game heating up?” he asked with interest.

“He sent the robber around to steal the wheat,” Ty informed him, shuffling a couple of cards in his hand as he spoke. “Thereby denying Dru what she needed to build her longest road.” Even as he spoke, Ty’s eyes were focused on the board, shifting around constantly.

Hearing the explanation, Emma shook her head from her perch at the long birch island in the centre of the room. “I’m so glad I didn’t agree to play. You all are vicious.”

“Settlers is a great game- we’ll get you involved next time, Em,,” Dru said loftily even as she threw another filthy glance at Ash. “Should’ve left you to rot in that troll’s cage when I first found you in Faerie.”

“Love you too, my knight,” Ash replied with a smile, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss the back of it. Dru finally cracked, smiling but still shaking her head.

“Food will be ready in ten,” Julian told them, the smell of bacon and pancakes permeating in the air of Blackthorn Hall’s massive kitchen.

Kit’s stomach was rumbling, and he played the last few minutes of the game half-heartedly. Ty won handily with Dru coming in second.

Outside, it was rapidly getting dark, late on the Friday evening as they sat down to food and there was little chat while they ate. It was a smaller group than typical at Blackthorn Hall but as it was Tavvy’s week back at school, he, Aline and Helen hadn’t made the journey out to London. And Mark and Cristina and Kieran were all settled into their New York loft, nesting with their newborn baby, Malena, born only a few weeks before.

“Oof, I can’t fit any more in,” Emma said finally, pushing back her plate. She poked her belly, which protruded heavily over her skinny jeans. “Barney and Jezebel appreciated it though.”

Julian winced. “I swear you’re coming up with even worse name combos the closer we get,” he said, half-resignedly, half amused.

“You guys still planning to stay in Idris for the birth?” Dru asked.

“I know some crackin’ faerie midwives,” Ash mentioned. “I was apparently a terrible birth for my mom but they helped a lot with it. If you want, I can make the introduction.”

“Er- as much as I appreciate the offer-we’ll either be here or Idris,” Emma said diplomatically, and Kit wondered if she was amused or horrified at being recommended the same birth plan as the Seelie Queen.

He noticed Ty’s unhappy look at the chat and Kit reached out underneath the table, letting his hand rest gently on Ty’s knee, stroking. Ty’s hand came to rest on top, and he gave a quick grateful glance to Kit. He knew Ty didn’t want to talk about it but the fact that Emma was expecting twins brought up tough memories around Livvy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kit could see Julian watching them, also in tune with the mood of all his family members and he steered the conversation away to a different topic- letting Emma talk about her work with the new Academy curriculum. Then Dru updated them on her latest quests in Faerie, in contrast to Ash, who was charming but as ever, his flowery language told them limited information as to what was happening in Faerie, and its rebuilding.

Finally they came around to Kit and Ty’s first week in London and between them, they gave a quick summary of what had occurred.

There was silence as the table digested the news about the apparent issues at the London Institute.

“Just my luck, getting a dud Institute,” Kit laughed nervously, watching Julian’s reaction. “And before you ask- no, I don’t want to be Head, and it’s likely they just invited me to join because of tradition.”

Julian didn’t reply for a few long seconds, his green-blue eyes dark in the kitchen’s shadowy, homely lighting. Kit snuck a glance over to Ty.

Ty cleared his throat. “We’re looking into it, Jules.” It wasn’t phrased as a question and Ty seemed unshakeable in his belief that they could handle it themselves, as if announcing it to the Inquisitor - albeit also his brother - was a fait accompli. “But do you have any advice while we do so?”

Julian let out a long sigh. “I am assuming you’re basically asking permission to conduct this investigation?” he asked.

“We can… hand it over to your office instead?” Kit offered carefully.

Julian shook his head, and he gave a rueful look over to Ty. “No- and I’m sure as Ty already knows, we don’t have the resources to deal with it, given what we’re currently dealing with...” He didn’t elaborate.

Ty shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “So let us handle it.”

“You mean Kit will handle it. You already have a lot on your plate with the wraiths,” Julian said sharply, and Emma looked up at his tone, her brown eyes worried. “I’ve read the reports.” And Kit wondered at Julian’s reach as Inquisitor and whether he had somehow found out about Ty’s injuries and his and Kit’s late night dash to a mundane hospital to deal with them.

“There’s a whole team of Centurions with me on the case,” Ty reassured him. “And yes- Kit’s taking the lead with any Institute issue but I’ll be there to assist him.”

“Kit can handle a 90 year old woman and a sick man,” Ash said, supportively.

Dru frowned. “That’s awfully dismissive,” she told him.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Ash said, looking confused. “Elderly women are some of the wiliest adversaries and those who are ill often have nothing to lose…” Not for the first time, despite them being the same age, Kit was reminded of the wide chasm of his and his cousin’s experiences. But then he remembered his history with Mother Hawthorn, not to mention his recent interactions with Evelyn and he was inclined to agree with Ash’s assessment.

“We don’t know for sure it’s coming from Evelyn and Roger or whether it’s elsewhere in the Institute,” Kit replied.

Julian looked over at Kit. “Whoever or whatever it is- find the evidence of corruption or misconduct and send it to my office. And then wait for instruction,” he told Kit. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

Kit nodded, feeling relieved. So, officially slash unofficially, they had the support of the Clave, if they needed it.

Later on, as the Blackthorn siblings and Emma settled down to competitively watch the Great British Bake-off, Kit drew Ash aside and asked about tithes and a possible connection to the Institute. “No Seelie or Unseelie Court member would pay a tithe out to a Nephilim Institute,” Ash told him. “Not since the Cold Peace ended.” His green eyes were shrewd as he looked Kit up and down. “But I don’t know about the Free Folk- you’ve always had more connections there.”

Kit sighed. “Mostly in New York and L.A.,” he said. “I have to make a trip to the London Shadow Market this week to see if I can find some similar connections.”

“You will, brother,” Ash said. He looked down at Kit’s hand, the voyance rune gleaming blackly against Kit’s pale skin. Ash smiled and held out his own, similar-inked hand - the only permanent Shadowhunter rune he wore - and turned it palm upwards.

His body language indicated he was waiting for Kit. “I haven’t practiced,” Kit warned even as he mirrored Ash’s position.

“I don’t care,” Ash told him, some of the authority of the Seelie realm seeping through in his voice. A tendril of greenish-white light floated up from the centre, and tentatively moved towards his own open palm.

Kit grit his teeth, letting the light caress up and around the lines of his hand and he took a deep breath, attempting to wake up a long dormant - and potentially dead power. Slowly, Kit could feel something float up from deep within and trickle down his arm. He willed it to manifest.

For the briefest moment, he thought he saw a flash of golden light dancing with Ash’s own magic and then it faded and the other faerie magic was too much, burning Kit in its intensity.

He withdrew his hand with a hiss, watching as the skin blistered.

Across the room, he saw Ty look up suddenly from his conversation with Dru and Kit hid his hand. Ash looked stricken, and a stele appeared in his hand. “It’s improving,” he said, covering Kit from view even as he swiftly drew an iratze on Kit’s forearm.

“Maybe,” Kit felt exhausted, as if he had gone for a ten mile run, or just come in from a long night patrol. “I’ll keep trying.”

“We should do more next time you’re in Faerie,” Ash said, his face contemplative. “I think we’re close.” As always, there was a faint note of guilt in his words as he attempted to help Kit regain his Fae power.

Kit nodded and pushed past him without response, going to join Ty on the sofa.

“What were you and Ash talking about?” Ty asked quietly, as Emma and Dru shouted and Julian leaned forward anxiously over some kind of 3D cookie tower being constructed on the TV.

“Tithe business,” Kit told him, reaching out to twine his hands in Ty’s, ensuring his newly drawn iratze was covered by his sleeve. “He doesn’t think that it’s connected to Seelie or Unseelie Courts.” He didn’t mention the aborted magic attempt- it was something that he and Ash had only just started the last time Kit was in Faerie. He didn’t want Ty to worry about something that was likely to be a dead end- especially given everything else on their plate at the moment.

If - and it was a big if, he managed to jumpstart his magic again, then he’d let Ty know, Kit figured.

Ty was watching him, his mouth pursed slightly and Kit wondered if he’d seen the magic attempt- and he opened his mouth, about to explain when Ty suddenly looked past him. “That doesn’t even look like Big Ben,” he complained, and Kit looked over to see more cookie sculptures on screen. “No, but I’d still eat it,” Kit said. Emma heard and grinned at him.

Ty smiled too. As the credits rolled, he turned his attention back to business. “It’s okay that it’s a dead end with Ash,” he said, his grey eyes serious. “The interviews we conduct this week with key Downworld contacts might shed light on it instead.”

Kit nodded. “Yeah.. about that,” he said. “I have a feeling it might be more challenging than we think…”

Taglist: @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @of-same-steel-and-temper @thomastaircompassrose @thechangeling @mferraz @kestrafagnor @gabtapia @alldagayships @blindbandit1515 @silvermagnolias @chaotic-halfblood-kit @fighting-god-69 @lifeofbrybooks @all-this-panic-still-no-disco @heloisacosta23 @kitheronthorn @idk-i-just-really-like-tsc @t0wergirl @immortal-enemies @ahumanbeingtryingherbest @chewriting @bookishjules

Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the list. :)

#tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the wicked powers #post canon #established relationship #casefile #mystery stories #the dark artifices #secrets of blackthorn hall #my fanfic #tsc: london files #alicantenet

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draconscious · 1 year

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10, 11, 12

MUNDAY POKEMON ASKS / accepting.

For the hardest Gym Leader battle, I had a seriously glitched-out Gold version as one of my first Pokemon games ever, and the FALKNER in that game sent out a level 28 Nidoking. I obviously couldn't beat him--on top of the difficulty, the game was in another language, and I was six. I detail the rest of the story here but I still think about that fight. I might have had the world's first Pokemon hack in my hands...

Now, for non-funky Gym battles, is it bias here if I say CLAIR & WHITNEY gave me the most grief? I eventually got a legitimate copy of Silver but Gen II was my first experience with Pokemon (went back later to play RBY), and unfortunately I was still six. I didn't have any strategies for Miltank, and my Pokemon were all underleveled by the time I got to Blackthorn (thanks Johto leveling curve...) so I was stuck for a long while...and then Clair didn't give me the badge! Man.

One night, when my parents were out and I was playing under the covers with the worm light (as you did), I remember sneaking onto the phone to call the Nintendo Power Hotline for some tips on how to win, but the wait time was too long. Do people even remember the Nintendo Power Hotline anymore...?

#(theres a reason why clair is one of my longest running muses LMAO)#(gsc started everything)#(thanks for the nostalgia!! and +1 to ANYONE who remembers that hotline...we used it a lot LOL)#ooc #dragon delivery (memes and asks)

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crystalelemental · 1 year

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Welp! Pokemon Crystal, defeated once again. That was a pretty fun run, honestly. Team and major battles below.

The Team:

Helen the Typhlosion, level 60

Obsidian the Golem, level 54

Allegra the Jolteon, level 57

Euphyllia the Kadabra, level 55

Orithyia the Suicune, level 54

Therese the Noctowl, level 39

This run was more of a nostalgia trip. For whatever reason, I was feeling really strongly about Johto, Kris in particular, and wanted to replay it. Typhlosion as the starter is what I always did as a kid. I always really liked Typhlosion, mostly because design, though also because it learned Thunderpunch, and that felt hilarious when you can just electric zap Silver’s Feraligatr. I miss when the punches were elemental sometimes...

I actually kicked this off really wanting to run Noctowl, aiming for Hypnosis/Dream Eater/Nightmare. That didn’t happen, because Noctowl is really hard to raise, and getting Dream Eater takes until basically the end of the game. So that...never went anywhere. I’m kinda bummed about it, but such is life, I suppose.

Golem was one I wanted to try as well. Alongside Steelix and Rhydon, it’s one of those Pokemon that I’m like...I have heard how hard this bops Red. I want to try it out. And frankly? Golem’s insanely good all game. Early game, it answers Falkner easily, Bugsy easily, and is a relative answer to Whitney so long as Rollout doesn’t consistently hit like a billion times. Against the league, it’s a pretty solid answer to Koga’s entire team, and has some decent threat potential against anyone who isn’t Bruno too. It’s worth noting that I did breed with Sudowoodo for Rock Slide, which contributed to Golem being a huge standout. But hey. Worth it.

Jolteon was because of Masters. Kris has a Jolteon, I really wanted to play along, and see how well Jolteon could do. The answer was...pretty bad until you get it an electric attack. Which took for-goddamned-ever. Thank god for that one move tutor with Thunderbolt. Anyway. Once equipped, Jolteon...actually does insanely well. She has a lot of solid coverage, and we’ll get to the significance of it, but you kinda play like Espeon: get Bite off Eevee at level 30, then get your STAB move, and you’re pretty well set.

Fun fact! I don’t remember ever actually running Suicune. I usually back out because my team is higher level by the time I get it, and legends are a pain to level up. I usually give up and swap over to Kingdra, because I have a strong affinity for Clair and absolutely love Kingdra, but I resisted the urge. Also fun fact, I tried catching this before going to Blackthorn and having Ultra Balls. It broke out of everything, except my very last basic Pokeball, which caught it. Go figure.

And finally...Kadabra. I love Kadabra, it’s actually my preferred form of the evolution line. Gen 2 Kadabra in particular is my favorite thing, because elemental punches. Psychic, Fire Punch, Ice Punch, Thunderpunch is stupid good, and clears 80% of the league by itself. Seriously, try it out some time. Kadabra, by around level 55, one-shots Will, Koga, Bruno, and Lance with like no issues. Karen, however, walls it to high hell. That said, my Kadabra this time was apparently a golden child, because I checked DVs and it has 15 in speed and defense, and like 13 in specials and 10 in HP. She’s fantastic. So that contributes a bit. I actually didn’t even catch Kadabra until after the Rocket incident. I wasn’t convinced I’d run her, but after watching Noctowl trail behind and be incapable of really threatening anything, I decided to make the trade to Kadabra. “What about Celebi?” I thought about it, but a legend grows slowly, I’d only have access after the league, and Celebi is like level 30. I was already not in a huge grinding mood. Celebi would’ve taken forever, while having like no decent attacking moves. Maybe next playthrough.

Falkner’s gym went down to Geodude no problem. Bugsy went down to Quilava, who needed the EXP, but also because Hoothoot got bodied by Scyther. Whitney was a rough one and a bit of a team effort, with Noctowl handling Clefairy, Geodude softening up Miltank, and Quilava finishing the job. Morty was all Noctowl at the time, since it’s immune to Ghost and had enough attack power at the time to KO things...when they used Curse. Noctowl also handled Chuck reliably.

Jasmine was a funny one. I tried with Quilava, who was like level 30, expecting things to go okay. But it couldn’t OHKO Magnemite, so it got itself paralyzed and almost died to Magnemite. Golem had to come in and block it, and managed to take down Steelix despite never dodging an Iron Tail.

Bryce went down to Typhlosion. Clair was all Kadabra, who could one-shot Dragonair with Ice Punch, and 2HKO Kingdra with Psychic.

The first time through the league, I had Jolteon handle Will. Bite is a really effective tool, but Thunderbolt also fries 3 of his team. Pin Missile is stupid good against Exeggutor as well, so she’s a pretty hard counter.

Golem against Koga was pretty simple too. Forretress is a bit of a wall, but can’t threaten you back. Evasion play on Crobat can be a problem, but my girl hit Rock Slide first try.

Bruno got Kadabra’d. It happens to the best of ‘em.

Karen was trickier to plan around, so I wound up throwing Suicune at her. Turns out, Suicune had it under control, 2HKOing Umbreon just fine. From there, it’s really not too bad, since Aurora Beam handles Vileplume and Murkrow really easily.

Lance got hit with Kadabra as well. Kadabra was sweeping the team until Aerodactyl survived a hit and used Hyper Beam. At which point she survived and KO’d, but had to run from Charizard. Suicune cleaned up easily. First run of the League wasn’t too bad.

Kanto’s gyms are a victory lap, they’re all pretty bad. Shoutouts to Janine though. Golem missed first Rock Slide, she hit Supersonic, and Golem proceeded to hit itself four times in confusion, nearly dying in the process. Glorious work, pal. Also to Blue, who shit-talks Johto and then gets beat so bad I didn’t even lose a single Pokemon. Sucks to suck, bro.

But, in this run of Kanto, Kadabra fell behind. I focused on the others, to make sure they’d be a high enough level to handle things. Once we cleared it out, I took Kadabra, then level 48, to the League. Where she swept everyone by Karen. Typhlosion handled Karen, and almost exactly hit level 56, which is significant because four Rare Candy meant Flamethrower. With Kadabra handling every random encounter on the way to Red, she hit level 55 and caught up just fine.

So...Red. The big man, with everything between level 74-81. I think my level discrepancy speaks for itself.

Pikachu has Charm, but otherwise cannot touch Golem, whose Earthquake kept knocking it to like 5HP and forcing Red to use his Full Restores. This turned out to be critically important, in the dumbest way.

Espeon is terrifying. I switched Noctowl in for Golem, and it died immediately. Okay, nearly 40 levels lower, that’s fine. But then it turns out Espeon outspeeds and 2HKOs Suicune. OOPSIE DOODLES. Surf barely even did anything. So I went Kadabra. Kadabra has okay special defense, and resists Psychic, surely this will work. Well no, it still 2HKOs. So, to be honest, the first run ended in failure, because nothing stopped Espeon. On the second run, knowing what I now knew, I let Noctowl drop, then went straight to Kadabra, who managed to land a 10% burn on Fire Punch. I have never been prouder. Jolteon got a flinch on Bite too, so they were having none of it. Jolteon was unharmed.

Then came Snorlax. Like an idiot, I went to Suicune. In my head, I remembered Curse. I remembered wrong. It’s Amnesia. So I let Suicune drop because I forgot that, got optimistic, then got crit by Body Slam and at that point it wasn’t worth trying to save. Waterfall flinch didn’t happen. Golem was able to tank its hits like nothing, but couldn’t quite 3HKO, so we got into an awful Rest battle until Magnitude could fake out its AI into thinking it would be safe. Golem wins, supreme victory.

Venusaur comes in, but Typhlosion is all over that shit. Flamethrower 2HKOs, all we had to take was a Solarbeam.

Blastoise came in, and Typhlosion knows Thunderpunch, and its job is very much done now, so I let it drop. Thunderpunch only dealt like 25%. Jolteon’s follow-up Thunderbolt didn’t even net the KO. Blastoise is tanky. Thankfully, Red is a moron, and because he couldn’t one-shot, decided to set up Rain Dance. Jolteon finished it, with no damage.

Which led to Charizard. At this point, it’s over. Either Jolteon lives and KOs, or Golem has to finish the job and Charizard’s fire moves are weakened. Game Ober. Turns out, Jolteon KO. Slash did get a crit, but Jolteon handled it just fine, netting the clean 2HKO with Thunderbolt. And so it was that we won, second try, with a team in the mid-50s. Again. How many times am I gonna dunk on you in my life, Red?

This was a really fun run. I enjoyed getting to use Punch Master Kadabra again, and I think this is my first iteration running a Golem in this game. I think my big disappointments were Noctowl and Suicune. Noctowl just...sucked. It handled a lot of gyms in Johto where it had strong matchups, but was woefully inconsistent and a generally poor performer after Chuck dropped. I tried to keep it going, but at the point it’s level 39 and can’t OHKO the Tentacool it’s using for training? Man, it’s not working out. Suicune, by contrast, didn’t feel like it did much another option couldn’t have. I expected more of its defensive profile, especially since I fed it all the HP Up and Iron I found, but it got pretty cleanly 2HKOd by both Espeon and Snorlax, which are the two I’d most want Suicune’s bulk to help handle. Its performance in the league was also just kinda alright, and at no point did it seriously impress me.

By comparison, Golem is a huge standout, who does fantastic work across the entire game. For a thing you can get in the first hour of gameplay, I’m really impressed how strong Golem wound up being. I do recognize that’s a bit of the Rock Slide situation, but that wasn’t too significant an investment. Jolteon was also really good. Once it got Thunderbolt, this entire game felt like it was over. Like it’s just absurdly strong with that and Bite. I will admit the rest of its kit was really lacking. Pin Mission has accuracy issues, and Double Kick doesn’t really do much at all. I wish it had a better option. “Shadow Ball,” you may say, but Bite covers the same types and hits from its much higher special, while Shadow Ball is physical this generation. It just...didn’t seem worth it compared to the ability to kick Silver’s Magneton in the face, or hitting the odd Exeggutor or Dark type. But often Thunderbolt was better. I want to say Typhlosion was great, but it was kinda just average.

Kadabra’s out-and-out MVP. To the shock of no one. That coverage is stupendous. I feel like, had I invested more into Kadabra, it probably would’ve carried a lot more of the team. Like, full investment into Golem/Jolteon/Kadabra core likely would’ve handled Red just as well, if not better. But I’m satisfied. This was an enjoyable run.

I’m still feeling nostalgic, though couldn’t tell you what for. I’m thinking it might be FRLG next, though the allure of Emerald is also there. I did consider a Gen 5 run. Which one, I’m not sure, but I’m debating it. I don’t think I’m up for Platinum, though. While I love that game, something’s just not feeling right about it right now. Another time.

#pokemon crystal #favorite pokemon teams #typhlosion #golem #noctowl #jolteon #kadabra #suicune

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Julian to Helen and Aline

Dear Helen and Aline,

So Emma and I took the train from Paddington Station pretty early in the morning (I suppose we could have gone to the Institute and seen if they’d let us use their Portal, but it seemed like trouble and besides, it’s not our first train trip in England.)

We got off the train at Exeter, a sprawling town with a big Gothic cathedral. Tessa was waiting to pick us up in a racing-green Mini Cooper with Mina strapped into a kid’s seat in the back, wearing goggles. She reminded me of Tavvy when he was littler. Emma got in the back and played peek-a-boo with Mina, and I chatted with Tessa while we rolled through gorgeous green countryside. I hate it when people say “It looked like it does in the movies,” but it kind of did. I kept wanting to get out and paint the scenery.

We drove through a big gate, and then up a long road lined with oak and poplar trees. I thought we were in a national park of some kind — there were trails, and lots of greenery and flowers. Tessa told me the purple ones were bluebells (you’d think they’d be blue), and the yellow ones were celandine. We passed a big glass house and then we came out in front of what I swear I thought was a castle.

I think I knew Cirenworth was fancy, but I don’t think I realized how fancy. It’s this huge pile of gold-colored stone with little turrets, and windows full of leaded glass. There’s a big circular driveway in front, and we parked there in front of steps that looked like they could be outside a museum. Jem and Kit were waiting for us at the top and Mina started squealing with delight the moment she saw them. It was pretty cute.

We got a tour of the house — it turns out they only use about half of it, and the other half is closed off because it’s too much to take care of. I asked if they’d had to renovate the place and Jem said no, it had never fallen into disrepair like Blackthorn Hall. Tessa said she’d had to redecorate because it had been pretty dark “and a little moldy” when they moved in, but she said she’d redecorated before — apparently she fixed up the whole Institute a long time ago. I asked her about renovations, but she pointed out that back when she’d done the Institute, indoor plumbing had been a new thing.

Kit said they had put the internet into Cirenworth (do you “put the internet into” things? Emma says you “wire things for the internet.” I think neither is probably right) for him, because he uses it for school. I think he’s happy here. He pointed out things in all the different rooms that he liked — and there were a lot of different rooms. A big library with gold rugs, a games room with a pool table (only they call it something else), an inground swimming-pool, a bunch of offices, a music-room, a sewing-room, I mean, they probably have a room just for licking stamps and putting them on envelopes.

I realized this was the most I’d really seen of Kit since he left to go live with Tessa and Jem. I fell back to talk to him while Tessa was showing Emma the portrait gallery of Carstairs Past. He’s so much taller, almost my height now, and his voice sounds deeper. And I realized he looks older just like Ty looks older; I’d been almost thinking of him as the same age he was when I first saw him. But no, he’s growing up. Is grown up, maybe. Almost.

He said he wanted to show me something in the garden, so I followed him out through a French door. It was an overgrown spot — there were strawberry bushes, though no strawberries (not the season) and there was a cracked sundial in the middle. Kit said, without looking at me, that if it made me uncomfortable to be around him, or I didn’t want to see him, he could claim he had a headache and go to bed.

I was thrown. I asked him why I’d mind if he was there. He kicked some dirt around with his boots, and finally said, “Because — because of him.”

I didn’t say anything at first. I was a little frightened to. Kit had seemed fine inside, laughing and joking around and picking up Mina so she could climb on his shoulders. Now he reminded me more of the way he’d been when we first met him, or even the way Mark was when he came back from the Wild Hunt . . . Fragile.

“You mean Ty?” I said.

He nodded stiffly. “You’re his brother,” he said. “I mean, I talk to Dru, and she’s his sister, but — you were always more than just his older brother. You were like his father. I know you raised him. I guess I just meant that if you were on his side — I wouldn’t blame you.”

I said, “Ty has never indicated to me there’s a side to be on.”

Kit looked up. “He — hasn’t?”

“I know you two don’t talk,” I said. “I don’t know why. Ty’s never told me why. But he’s never blamed you, or said it was because of anything you’d done. People fight,” I added. “It happens. I wish you were friends again, because when you were, it was pretty special.” Ty was so happy. But I didn’t say that. “But either way, regardless of anything happening with you and Ty, we all went through so much together. You’ll always be one of us. Family.”

He said in a hoarse voice, “That means a lot.”

We all went and had dinner after that, and a lot of stuff got talked about — including that Tessa’s son James Herondale once had a gun that worked on demons, which Kit was pretty excited about — but this letter is getting pretty long, and I mostly wanted to tell you about Kit. I guess I didn’t realize how unhappy he was about the situation with Ty. I wonder if our whole hands-off attitude is working? I mean, I know it’s their business, but what if Ty is unhappy too? Is there something we should be doing?

—Jules

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #julian blackthorn #tessa grey #mina carstairs #James Herondale

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tojixzenins · 3 years

Text

Unbelievable

Paring: Lucie × frat! Jesse. (College au)

Trope: friends to lovers.

Summary: what Happens when a friend doesn't feel like a friend but maybe something more?

Words: 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, language, making out.

A/n: some of you may have read this fic but this is the edited version and revised version.

---

Lucie was dead tired, her eyes were drooping, she was on the verge of falling into deep slumber when the bell rang, indicating that the day was finally over and now she could go back to her dome and enjoy some Netflix and ramen noodles.

Her classes have been stressing her out for a couple of weeks now but tomorrow was Saturday which means no lectures and plenty of time to catch up on her college work.

Lucie grabbed her bag, hurriedly shoved her laptop and notes in her bag and made her way out of the class, Just when she was about to leave a familiar voice called her "Lucie!" She turned to see it was Jesse Blackthorn. He was also a student with her and somewhat her only close friend in the whole campus, his long, messy dark hair were falling all over his face, in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to run her hands through it, maybe even kiss those full lips while she was at it. Whoa whoa, woman calm down. He mentally scolded herself for letting her hormone L's run wild. He was a friend for crying out loud.

"Hey, Jesse what's up?" She pulled the strap of her bag above her shoulder, and giving him a bright smile. As she started to walk out of the classroom, Jesse was hot on her tail. "Nothing much. I was just wondering maybe do you wanna hang out at my place? Its like I don't see you anymore." He rubbed his neck, and Lucie has to calm her wild heart going off the rails from his words.

As much as Lucie wanted nothing more than to lie down with Jesse, relaxing after a tough week there was a reason why she wasn't actively seeing him. Her damn feelings. They've known each other for a while now, running in same groups and all but her recent discovery of her mind, body and heart reacting towards this man made her want to run for the hills. Jesse was a great friend, but that was all it was, a friend, he'd never shown any more interest in her, but then again she had never said any thing about her feelings for him either. But she was not going to risk it, playing it safe was helpful, most of the times.

"Well? Should i take that as a 'yes'?" Jesse asked once again raising his eyebrow, taking her silence as an answer. "I- uh-" She stuttered and he rose his hands to silence whatever she was going to say. "No I'm taking another excuse why you can't. Its been to long, its a weekend and since I know all you friends I know you don't have any plans so the answer you were going to say was "yes, Jesse, you are amazing and really hot and I'd love to spent my whole weekend with you, o' great one"" he said the last part in a shrill voice mimicking her, it made her go in full out laughter and she was also aware about the slight blush creeping up her face at his words but decided to ignore it.

"You know what, I will hang out with you o' great one but we're ordering pizza."

"Your wish is my command m'lady." He mockingly bowed trearing another chuck from her.

"See you later dork."

"See ya."

Jesse was whipped and he was told that by all he frat mates but that didn't do any good considering he never told Lucie how he felt. And now he had invited her to hang out in his frat, "this is not gonna end well" he said under his breath as he entered his frat house. His fellow mates were all sitting in front of the telly watching some football game. "Where have you been Jesse?" Thomas asked when he saw Jesse enter.

"Probably snogging Lucie." Matthew chuckled, James gave Matthew a slight shove "its my sister you are talking about." He growled. "Yeah, yeah and when are you going to ask Cordelia out huh?" Matthew smirked as James cheeks turned red. "Okay stop fighting, boys that's it." Even though Jesse was the oldest, Thomas was always the mother of their group and well Christopher was immersed in his books and experiments so much he didn't care about all the ruckus happening around him. Jesse sight at the group in front to him "guys she's coming over tonight, and no James I'm not gonna make a move" he added when he saw the golden eyed boy giving him murderous looks. "I don't even know if she likes me, she just probably sees me as a friend." It was true Jesse didn't know that but James did, his little sister would always ask for the green eyes boy, he just never realized she had feeling for him until they all found about Jessie's crush, that's when all the pieces fell into place. James had no problem with Jesse he was an amazing person but still Lucie was he little sister and no matter what she'll always be that. "Oh trust me she doesn't sees you just as a friend." James whispered to no one in particular but everyone heard his, well everyone except Jesse.

Lucie was greeted by familiar faces when she entered Jessie's and her brother's frat. "Hello guys, where is Jesse?" She peered around to see the black haired boy around but he was no where in her sights. "Oh are we eager now?" Matthew smirked, of course he knew about Lucie's crush on Jesse it was too obvious. Lucie's face burned at the comment made by the blonde and before she could murder him as always Thomas came to rescue. "He's up in his room." He gave her a bright smile and started to walk up the stairs to the upper level where the boy's rooms were. "No funny business!" She heard her brother call after her, she flipped him off with her finger, smiling at her actions.

When she set foot in Jesse's room he was not there. She had been here a number of times and now was not any different but her discovery of her new motives with the boy, her mind was not in the right place seeing the bed where they both were going to sit or lie down, together. She dropped her bag on the side table with a sigh and took a seat on his bed.

The door opened to reveal a very not so dressed Jesse, Lucie had to physically prevent her jaw from falling. She had never seen him naked before, well just shirt less but holy shit the guy was built, the gym hours he did were looked worth it. His hair were wet and messy probably from the shower he came from, water was dripping down his chest, stomach, his biceps well defined, A towel hanging lowly on his hips. He looked like a model from a swim suit catalog. She could not help the blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. "I'm sorry Luce I wasn't expecting you for another fifteen minutes." He said, looking at his clothes on the bed she now saw. "no no its okay I'm early, I can leave so you can get dressed." She cleared her throat and stood up trying very hard not to look anywhere else other that his face. "No its okay I'll be back just give me two minutes." he said and reached for the clothes. "Its cool take your time." She gave him a warm smile which he reciprocated.

After five minutes Jesse returned wearing casual clothes but his hair still wet, "I'm sorry about earlier." His cheeks were red, he was clearly embarrassed but his shyness flew away when Lucie gave him a smile, she patted the place next to her on the bed and said "its alright love, let's just watch a movie." She scooted further on the bed making space for him and he gladly excepted the offer. They watched some chess romcom, but Jesse was not interested in that. The movie was playing on the laptop in front of them, Lucie was beside him leaning closer and resting her head on his shoulder, Jesse moved closer almost unconsciously but he didn't mind at all.

After about half way through the movie they were in a cosy position Lucie's head on his chest, her arms around his neck, their legs tangles together, his arms around her waist, to be honest its was a very intimate position usually not something friends do. "You know Jesse, you are officially my new pillow now." She said and buried her face further into his chest as a reflex Jesse pulled her closer.

"Lucie I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now." He said and cleared his throat, it was unbelievable that he was going to say his feeling out loud. He sat up and pulled her to sit face to face with him "what's it Jess?" She asked her bright blue eyes sparking, he light brown hair were putting all the other aesthetical artefacts to shame and that's when he knew he couldn't to bear it any longer. "Lucie I think I'm in love with you."

Lucie couldn't believe her ears, or what he was hearing "what?" Was all she could muster up to say.

"I know you see me as a friend, and I know you are one of my friend's sister but I know I can not bear it without telling you this, you don't have to say you love me back or anything at all, you know you can just leave too if you want-" Lucie cut off his rambling by smashing her lips to his. Both of their lips fit perfectly like puzzle pieces, the kiss was soft, passionate, it was like a perfect first kiss, the one with fireworks in the background. Jesse pulled Lucie closer but her waist and her hands tangled in his messy hair. After a few minutes of making out Jesse was the first one to pull away "does this mean you like me too?" He looked so adorable, his green eyes glossy, lips puffy from kissing and his expression scared from the fact that she will push him way.

"No you idiot I just kiss anyone who confess their undying love for me."

"Of course I love you back you idiot." She laughed and pulled him towards her by T-shirt "I can't believe you never saw that." She said and Jesse furrowed his eyebrows "what do you mean?"

"I mean you have read my scrips and novels, yeah?" He nodded his head 'yes' "then you should've guessed all the love stories are about you." She giggled and he looked shocked "wait you mean I'm Robert in the beautiful Cordelia?" Her laugh answered his question.

"You are my muse, Jesse Blackthorn." She declared and pulled him into another kiss.

---

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

if this was a dream pt. 2

Part 1 | AO3 | Fanfiction Masterlist

Thomas tried to steady himself as Alastair walked - no, more like ran - away. What was he doing here, by his bedside? In what universe would his parents allow Alastair Carstairs to sit with him while they slept? He seemed to recall many nights in his youth when his mother refused to sleep at all when he was unwell.

His mind ran through countless possibilities, each one less likely than the last, until his parents rushed into his room. He pushed those thoughts aside as mother ran to him, cupping his face in her hands and gently kissing his forehead. “We were so worried. How are you feeling?”

Besides blinding rage? He took a moment to actually consider the question. He’d been too distracted by the Alastair fiasco to take notice of it all. Alastair said that he had been injured. “Er, my head hurts, but other than that, I feel alright.”

She smiled. “That’s good. You were attacked on patrol about three days ago, and your injuries were quite severe. There’s a Silent Brother lingering around here somewhere, we should fetch him to check on you. I’m so glad you’re feeling alright, love.”

“Alright is one word for not being able to remember the past six months,” Eugenia commented, appearing in the doorway.

Both of his parents looked alarmed. “What do you mean?” his father asked.

“That’s what-” She cut herself off abruptly. “Thomas, what month is it?”

“Um…” He thought for a moment. Now that she mentioned it, he was feeling a bit blurry. Was the engagement party last week? Two weeks ago, perhaps? “It’s August.”

His mother looked at him worriedly.

“What?”

“It’s February,” Eugenia answered. She was always the most blunt out of all of them.

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond, but his mother quickly reassured, “That’s alright, dear. I’ll go find the Silent Brother now. I’m sure this will pass as your head heals.”

She left the room and Eugenia came to the chair that Alastair had been sitting in earlier. She sighed. “I know you’re mad at him.” It took him a moment to realize she was talking about Alastair. “You should be, but also… try to keep in mind that a lot has happened over the past six months.”

He could feel the anger rising in his bloodstream again, but there was only so much he was willing to say with his father present. “Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that…” He trailed off. What was being implied here? He had no idea what was happening at all.

“Believe what you must, then,” Eugenia exhaled.

“Well, what did happen in the last six months?”

Eugenia thought for a moment. “Hm, let’s see… Well, Rosamund and Thoby got engaged. Cordelia and James got married, kind of. Matthew got a flat! And a car. And he’s trying to quit drinking now, though that’s a bit new, maybe don’t bring it up. Let’s see… There was the whole serial killer bit, we fought a couple of Princes of Hell, Lilith showed up, Lucie raised Jesse Blackthorn from the dead… Oh, I’m sure I’m missing some things. Your friends can explain it better.”

Thomas could only stare in response.

“See? Is your relationship with Alastair Carstairs truly the most shocking thing to have happened in the past six months?”

Thomas’ head had ached before, but now he could feel it pounding, trying to process all that his sister had just rattled off. “I- What-” He flashed his gaze towards his father, who seemed a bit concerned, but not the least bit surprised or upset. “My- I don’t-”

“I can see now that I’ve said far too much. You know what? It’s fine. Most of that doesn’t even matter anyways. The parts that do, well, you’ll figure them out. Besides, your memories may come back soon enough anyways. And it’s all truly not as dramatic as it sounds listed out like that.”

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to shove all of those thoughts, his sister’s words, the many questions needing answers, into some corner of his brain to be picked up later. “Perhaps we can just… avoid that as a topic of conversation.”

“Of course,” his sister said quickly. “By ‘that’ you mean-”

Gideon cut her off by clearing his throat. “Genie, would you please find Bridget and request some food be brought up for your brother, now that he’s awake.”

She shot out of her seat with nervous energy. “Of course. I’ll be back.”

Once she was out the door, he chuckled gently. “I have no idea how she still has that much energy after staying awake for nearly three straight days.”

Thomas bit at the inside of his lip. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

Gideon nodded solemnly. “You’re alright now, though, and you’re awake. That’s what is important.” He paused. “I know this has all been a lot to take in, but you needn’t worry about any of it, truly. All that matters to any of us right now is that you heal. You should try to rest, if only because Eugenia is less likely to harass you if it looks like you’re sleeping.”

He gave him a small smile and tried to relax. He attempted, unsuccessfully, to quiet the noise in his brain. Alastair, sitting by his bedside. The look on Alastair’s face as he fled the room. How his entire family had seemingly accepted Alastair as part of his life, as his… partner? Had Alastair sat with them these three long days, hoping, praying, that he would wake?

It didn’t make sense. Alastair had spread cruel rumors, terrible lies, about Thomas’ family. Rumors that had made his mother weep. He’d hurt Matthew so badly that the scars showed even now, four years later. He’d had a crush on Alastair in school, of course. Just a silly schoolboy crush, running after the witty and mysterious older boy with cutting words and sad eyes. Thomas had thought, for a moment, that he was falling in love with him, back in Paris. He kicked himself at the thought of it now. He’d been terribly lonely and feeling alienated, of course he would fall at the feet of the first person he connected with.

He felt it again, though, when Alastair arrived in London, in those stolen conversations at parties or in the laboratory. He knew now that the Alastair he’d shown to Thomas was not true. It was a facade he put on to please him, a trick. That Alastair would never be able to say such terrible things about his loved ones, even as some strange, sick act. This must be another trick, Thomas thought, one that he’d seemingly convinced not only Thomas of but everyone else, too.

Thomas silently scolded himself. There were much bigger issues to worry about than Alastair Carstairs’ games, such as the fact that he’d nearly died a few days prior or that Lucie had apparently raised Jesse Blackthorn from the dead. Those were the types of things that he should be worried about, or even the fact that this meant that it had been over half a year without his sister, or that he’d turned 19 last month and could not remember. And yet, his mind lingered.

His mother returned soon after with Brother Shadrach. Thomas allowed himself a moment of silent relief that it was not Brother Zachariah. He had no issue with Jem, but he suspected that his presence would make it a bit difficult to keep his mind off of a different Carstairs.

Brother Shadrach did a short physical evaluation. Thomas still had several wounds that had not finished healing, but they were reportedly improving nicely. His head injury was a different story.

With these types of injuries, recent memories are typically more affected than older ones. Only time will tell whether the amnesia is temporary or not. It is likely that even if you begin to regain your older memories, some of your most recent memories will never return, even if that is merely the days or weeks leading up to the attack.

Sophie thanked him for all of his help, and he left them with orders that Thomas be allowed light physical activity as he finished healing, though he should avoid anything that may make his headache worsen, such as reading. Or Alastair Carstairs, Thomas had wanted to add, though he did not.

Over the next several hours, his family tapered off in shifts, finally allowing themselves much-needed rest and meals now that they were certain that Thomas was alright.

It was Eugenia’s shift when he woke from a nap with too much restless energy to lie in bed any longer. “I’m going to walk around a bit,” he announced.

She sat up, closing the book she was reading. “I’ll come with you, then.”

“That’s alright, you don’t need to. Brother Shadrach said I’m allowed to walk around. I’m meant to avoid headaches, though, and I’d rather not have you talking my ears off.”

Genie’s face fell. “Oh.”

“I didn’t- That came out wrong. I only meant that I’d like some time alone.”

“I know what you meant.” She looked back down at the book in her lap. “Go. You have until I finish this chapter, and then I’m coming to find you.”

His wandering eventually led him to the library, though he was not meant to do any actual reading. In the library, however, was a man.

“Why are you still here?” Thomas asked.

Alastair looked up from the book he was holding. “I- Thomas! I didn’t realize that you were walking around.”

“Yes, according to Brother Shadrach, my head injury has not affected my ability to walk.”

“Right-”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Go home, Carstairs. How many times do I need to tell it to you? Do you need it in a different language?” He was about to tell Alastair to leave in Farsi when he was cut off.

“No, I’ll go.” He shut his book and stood up. “I’m sorry. I did not intend to bother you again, I simply-”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing or how you’ve managed to convince my whole family of it, too, but it won’t work anymore.”

“Thomas, there’s no-”

“Cease constantly addressing me by my first name. We’re not schoolboys any longer. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

Alastair couldn’t seem to find the words to respond, though his expression was as unreadable as ever.

Thomas could feel tears burning in his eyes. “I thought that you were different, but I was wrong. I will not allow myself to fall for your lies again.”

“Very well, Mr. Lightwood. I will take my leave. I did not wish to upset you.” His face was still blank.

“Really? Because you don’t seem to care all that much. We’re meant to be in a relationship, or something, according to my sister, but it doesn’t even seem like you care that I hate you.”

There, just for a moment, was a flicker across Alastair’s face, though Thomas couldn’t quite catch what it was. He thought for a moment before finally responding. “You’re allowed to hate me, T- Perhaps you should. It matters not to me because as long as you hate me, you are awake and you are alive, and that is an easier reality to contend with than one where you are… not alive. I hope you feel better, Mr. Lightwood.”

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but was too flustered to find the words. He stared as he watched Alastair walk out of the library. For a moment, he thought that perhaps he would look back at him, but he simply kept walking, turning the corner towards the front entrance of the Institute.

Thanks for all of your support! taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @lifewouldbebetteronmars @delusioneon @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood

Part 3

#coi spoilers #chain of iron spoilers #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #thomastair #chain of iron #coi #the last hours #tlh #fanfiction #fanfic #if this was a dream fic

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cjfritos · 4 years

Text

In Dreams Begin (Jessa wedding story)

Obviously written by Cassandra Clare. I own no rights to this. This was included in first editions of The Lost Book of the White by her and Wesley Chu. It tells the story of Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray’s wedding and explains why no one remembers it.

Unfortunately it does include some spoilers from LBW so if you have not read it yet, I don’t recommend reading it. Otherwise, enjoy :)

~~~

Magnus Bane was scheming.

To an untrained observer, the High Warlock of Brooklyn wouldn’t look like he was doing much of anything at all. For one thing, he was wearing purple silk pajamas. For another thing, he was in bed, leaning back against a pile of pillows with a spell book open in his lap.

Beside him, Alec Lightwood was stretched out on his side, deeply asleep. Earlier that day, Alec had taken their son, Max, to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. This had been at Magnus’s request—he wanted Max to have ample opportunity to tire himself out before bedtime. It worked almost too well. Max had made fast friends with a werewolf toddler named Eliza, and the two of them tore around the gardens blissfully for about three hours straight, Max crawling while Eliza ran, albeit unsteadily. Eliza’s mother had been quite surprised the first time Max levitated. Luckily, he was glamoured so only she and Alec noticed.

Though not possessed of much vocabulary, Eliza clearly wanted Max to levitate her as well. Fortunately, Max did not yet have that sort of skill. Alec and Max returned home happy, covered in mud, and—best of all—exhausted. Magnus really wanted them all to sleep through the night.

Magnus shifted position and peered across the room at the mantel clock atop the dresser, a hideous thing covered in putti that Ragnor had given him years ago. The room was lit only by a candle that burned with a blue flame on the table beside him, but he could make out the numbers. It was one forty-five a.m. Surely that was late enough. Surely even the Shadowhunters and Downworlders of the West Coast would be turning in. He’d given Catarina and Jem and Tessa a heads-up, after all, and as for the Blackthorns and Emma Carstairs, they were kids! And not even babies, with their bizarre and erratic relationship to sleep. Surely the would be asleep by now, worn out from running around on the beach or whatever it was that the residents of the Los Angeles Institute did all day. Yes, it was time.

Snuggling a little farther under the blanket, Magnus looked fondly over at Alec’s sleeping form, his black hair like spilled ink across the ivory pillowcase. He closed his book and set it on the bedside table. He mentally reached within, feeling about for a particular pocket of magic folded away deep inside, a self-contained bubble. I had been two weeks since he’d been freed from the influence of the Svefnthorn, and while the markings on his skin had faded, his teeth had shrunk back to their normal size, and the overcharged magic of the artifact had left his system, this one reserve of magical energy had lingered.

At first, Magnus had considered hanging on to it as a sort of insurance policy. A little extra magic went a long way, especially when the magic was this potent, and Magnus was quite certain that he and Alec and their friends would have plenty more dangers to face in the years to come. That was their job, after all. But clinging to the magic out of fear of imagined dangers didn’t feel good. It felt like letting demons have a small victory over him, playing right into their scaly, demonic hands. No, instead he had resolved to use the power in a decidedly un-demon-sanctioned manner—to create joy.

Magnus shut his eyes. Oneiromancy, the study and practice of dream magic, had never been one of his specialties. But with the added kernel of power from the Sveftnthorn, he felt quite confident that he could pull of this one feat, even as complex as it was. The trickiest part, it seemed to him, was holding himself in that drowsy state between waking and sleeping, while maintaining enough awareness to cast the spell. He lay back against the pillows, letting his eyelids flutter shut for just a moment….

~~~

When Magnus opened his eyes again, he was standing in the middle of Blackfriars Bridge, the panorama of London spread out around him in all directions.

He took a deep breath of river-tasting air. The sky was a dark violet, the sun only just beginning to rise. There was no traffic, which was a distinct advantage to throwing a party on a dream bridge rather than on the real thing. There was a warm breeze in the air, and the Thames danced beneath it, silvery in the dawn light. Had he ever noticed wind in a dream before? Magnus wasn’t sure. He admired the view from the bridge—it seemed just about right, though he hadn’t been here for a couple decades. Perhaps some ugly new construction had taken place since then, but who would fault him for omitting that?

“Magnus!”

He turned and saw two figures hurrying toward him. It was Tessa and Jem, both in what Magnus assumed was their pajamas. Tessa’s were gray with white rabbits on them. Jem’s were dark-green-and-navy-blue plaid. They were barefoot, but that wouldn’t matter on a dream bridge. He started to smile as they got closer and he could see that they were both giddy and laughing, a hint of disbelief on their faces.

Tessa threw her arms around him, knocking him off-balance. He marveled at how solid and real she felt.

“It’s working!” she said in wonder.

“A magical discipline unexplored is always worth exploring,” Magnus said, stepping back. “I may be late to the game with oreiromancy, but I plan to make up for my tardiness all at once, right now. Is that what your planning to wear to your wedding?”

“It’s not traditional, but neither was the yellow cotton shirt dress I wore for the courthouse wedding. And I do love bunnies,” said Tessa. “I’m all right with it if Jem is.”

“I would marry you if you were wearing a barrel,” said Jem.

“But why would I be wearing a barrel?” said Tessa.

They were both grinning at each other stupidly. Magnus decided something needed to be done; he wasn’t sure how long his magic would hold out.

“I won’t have it!” he said. “If I’m to throw you a dream wedding, you must be properly dressed for the occasion. It’s in my contract. I do hope you read the fine print.”

He snapped his fingers, and Jem’s pajamas were replaced by an exquisitely cut black suit. Magnus aimed for something that suggested the style of the Shadowhunter gear Jem had worn long ago, in the first years he knew Tessa. Wedding runes were intricately embroidered on the lapels in gold thread. As Jem marveled at the excellent fit, Magnus turned his attention to Tessa.

“I know,” he said, “a wedding dress is a highly personal choice. But as our other guests will be arriving momentarily, and time is of the essence, I’m going to take a stab at it.”

“You have my express permission,” Tessa said.

Magnus snapped his fingers again, and the Tessa was wearing a beautiful sleeveless gown of pale silver, with a full skirt that reminded Magnus of the first time he’d met her, at a vampire ball. A couple more flicks of his fingers, and her hair rearranged itself beautifully into an updo, with a few tendrils loose around her face. One more gesture, and Tessa’s familiar jade pendant appeared around her neck—as did the pearl bracelet she always wore, a gift from Will on their thirtieth anniversary.

Tessa looked startled, reaching up to touch her hair, then brushing her hands over the gown. “How do I look?”

Jem looked very young again as he gazed at her, his dark eyes full of emotion. “Ni hen piao liang,” he whispered. You are very beautiful.

Magnus turned away to give them a moment—and felt familiar arms close around him.

Alec kissed Magnus on his forehead—being slightly shorter than Magnus, he had to pull Magnus down a bit to do it, which Magnus didn’t mind at all—and muttered, “You’re a sentimental bastard, aren’t you?” in his ear.

But he was grinning all over his face as he turned to greet Tessa and Jem, congratulating them. They both looked delighted to see him.

“So let me get this straight,” Alec said. “You, me, Tessa, and Jem will all remember this with perfect recall. For the other guests, they’ll remember it at first, but then it will fade away, the way dreams do?”

“That is correct. They won’t recall it the way we will, but their souls will be present, and glad for it. Well, mostly glad for it,” Magnus said.

“What do you mean, ‘mostly’?” Jem said nervously.

“I mean that I’m not sure how Church will feel about the whole thing.”

“Church!” Alec and Jem exclaimed at the same time, and turned to see the grumpy Persian cat sauntering toward them down the center of the bridge.

Tessa laughed. “Well, he does sleep twenty hours a day. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I took the liberty of adding him to the guest list you gave me,” Magnus said. “I’m trying to get on his good side.”

“Why?” Alec asked, incredulous. “He’s a cat.”

“So he won’t hate me forever when I do this.” Magnus snapped his fingers, and a silver bow in the same fabric as Tessa’s dress appeared around Church’s neck. Church’s eyes widened for a moment. Then he sat down, and after a moment, became very focused on cleaning his front paw.

“Now,” Magnus said, “I simply must get this bridge decorated.”

“It’s decorated perfectly,” said a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw Clary, who was holding Max. Behind her was Jace, followed by Isabelle and Simon, who were leaning together, whispering conspiratorially. Jocelyn and Luke were there, looking slightly unkempt, and Magnus remembered that they were in the process of remodeling a barn at Luke’s farm so Jocelyn could expand her painting studio. Ragnor and Catarina had also appeared, as well as a whole gaggle of kids—the Blackthorn clan. Julian and Helen, Tiberius and Livia, Drusilla and Octavian. Emma Carstairs was with them, though she broke away from the group immediately, running to hug Clary. They were the same height now, Magnus noticed with amusement. Max had escaped from Clary and was riding on Alec’s shoulders now, babbling a story to Helen Blackthorn and her wife, Aline. They looked very amused, though it was unlikely they understood even a quarter of what he said.

Maryse and Kadir were there too, already deep in conversation with Jocelyn and Luke. Kadir hadn’t been on the guest list Jem and Tessa had given Magnus, because they didn’t really know him, but Magnus had added him as Maryse’s plus-one. It never hurt to butter up your boyfriend’s mother, especially when she was willing to babysit for days at a time.

A couple Silent Brothers had appeared—Enoch? Shadrach? Magnus was slightly embarrassed to admit that they all looked alike to him, now that Jem was no longer counted among their number as Brother Zachariah. Magnus hadn’t known if the Gregori would be able to attend, since they didn’t normally sleep. One of them—Enoch?—inclined his hooded head slightly at Magnus, acknowledging this mad thing he was doing as worthwhile. At least that was how Magnus chose to interpret the gesture.

Octavian was climbing Jace like a jungle gym. Clary was talking with Julian and Emma, while Tiberius stood near his older brother, looking around at London with fierce curiosity in his gray eyes. Livia and Drusilla were perched on the railing of the bridge, Livia chatting animatedly with Simon and Isabelle, Drusilla looking around shyly. Catarina went to lean beside her, asking her a question. Magnus looked at the motley assortment of clothing on the assembled group. Mostly casual, though there were more pajamas as well. Magnus made two sweeping gestures, and all at once everyone was looking very sharp in formal attire. Even better, they barely seemed to notice the change. Magnus was impressed. Oneiromancy—who knew!

A hand gripped his arm. It was Tessa, who looked close to tears. “Magnus. I can’t believe you’re doing this for us. I…” She trailed off, at a loss for words.

Magnus regarded her fondle. “Tessa, most people’s idea of a dream wedding is not a literal dream wedding. But since yours is, I am happy to oblige. Shall we get this show on the road?”

Jem and Tessa took their places on either side of Magnus, and the guests gathered around. The sun had climbed well above the horizon, casting rays of warm light between the long shadows of the wedding guests.

“Dear friends,” Magnus said to Jem and Tessa, “we are honored to share this moment with you, and I am doubly honored to be given the chance to speak. Several hundred years ago I got very drunk and woke up as ordained minister. Today I have decided that doing so was a wise choice after all.”

Jocelyn snorted, then looked embarrassed. Luke grinned at her.

“Joking aside, it is impossible to stand here with you all and not feel that there is some greater plan at work, some greater force that has brought these two souls across more than a century to be joined as one.”

Clary’s eyes were glistening. Jace reached into his pocket and offered her what looked like a handkerchief but was more likely a soft cloth for polishing blades. She gave a wry smile of recognition, and sniffled into it.

“I debated which customs to follow in officiating this wedding,” Magnus went on. “Whether to conduct a Shadowhunter ceremony, or a warlock ceremony, or even a mundane ceremony, for many worlds have been united in the two of you. But none of these traditions seemed quite appropriate on their own. So I’ve attempted to tailor a ceremony that will honor your unique paths.”

Magnus nodded to Jem, who reached into his pocket and produced a gold ring. Jem had requested a single word etched around the outside of it: Mizpah.

“It has been said,” said Magnus, “that when two people are at one in their inmost hearts, they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze. Theresa Gray, are you at one with James Carstairs in your inmost heart?”

Tessa’s eyes were wide, her face serious as she gazed at Jem. “I am,” she said, offering her hand to him. He slid the ring onto her finger.

The Magnus nodded at Tessa, who produced another ring, this one from thin air. Magnus had to suppress the grin that threatened to break his calm officiant expression. It delighted him that Tessa was engaging in a small amount of oneiromancy herself, and Jem looked as pleased by it as Magnus felt. This ring was the exact match of the first, and he knew what it said as well: May the Angel watch between me and thee when we are absent from one another.

“James Carstairs—Ke Jian Ming—are you at one with Theresa Gray in your inmost heart?”

“I am,” Jem said, delight visible in his dark eyes. Tessa put the ring on him, and they stood for a moment, holding hands and smiling at each other like they couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“For I am persuaded,” said Magnus, and Jem and Tessa both looked up at him, recognizing a piece of the old Shadowhunter wedding ceremony, though he had altered the wording, “that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor demons, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate these two.” He stretched out his arms. “Therefore I am overjoyed to declare this marriage consecrated, here in the presence of your friends and family. Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs, you are married, and the world is better for it. You may kiss each other, not that you really need my permission.”

The assembled crowd cheered as Jem and Tessa kissed, a kiss that had been long delayed. The kiss continued, and Magnus slowly backed away, joining the cheering audience. “Let’s give them a moment,” he said, and happy chatter swelled around him.

Magnus noted that Alec was looking very foxy in his Armani suit, laughing with Maryse. Ragnor and Catarina were cackling over something, glad to be reunited now that Ragnor didn’t have to pretend to be dead—or at least, didn’t have to pretend with them. Clary had her arm draped over Emma’s shoulders, and Jace was arguing with Simon about how to properly tie a necktie. Tiberius and Drusilla were watching this argument as though it were a tennis match. Julian had lifted Octavian up so he could look down at the river flowing by beneath. Isabelle was joking with Livia, who was giving Max a piggyback ride. It was a miraculously good wedding.

Here they were, his friends. They’d literally gone into Hell twice with him now. He found himself reflecting on how much had changed. At first his life had felt like Magnus against the world. Then for years and years it had been Magnus, Catarina, and Ragnor against the world. Now his community was a much larger group, one that had spread wide enough that instead of Magnus and his friends against the world, it felt like Magnus and his friends, a part of the world. Probably the best part of the world.

It was a good feeling.

“Look!” a girl’s voice cried. It was Drusilla, pointing up into the sky, eyes wide with wonder. There was a collective gasp as the crowd saw what she had spotted. Two figures flew overhead, riding a translucent white stallion with two gold hooves and two silver. One of them was a blond boy in ragged clothes, who looked down at the Blackthorns and waved. The figure in front of him was harder to make out—a gentry faerie in clothes just as ragged, only he was as translucent as the horse. The blond boy must be Mark Blackthorn, Magnus marveled. He’d “invited” the whole family, not knowing whether those who rode with the Wild Hunt could be summoned by dream magic. He had his answer, but it came with another mystery. Who was this companion, so close to Mark that they would appear together in a dream?

The riders made a circle overhead, while the Blackthorns shouted and waved, and Mark waved back, smiling an odd smile down at them. Then they faded away into the morning air.

Magnus saw with relief that Jace, Clary, Simon, Isabelle, and Alec had all move in around the Blackthorn kids, giving them an opportunity to talk about what they had just seen—their stolen brother, visiting so briefly.

He glanced over and saw Tessa and Jem still standing by the railing. There was a shimmer beside them, at the edge of the bridge, and the hair on the back of Magnus’s neck rose.

He knew Will Herondale had never haunted the moral world, because he had lived and died happily and had no unfinished business among the living. While Magnus didn’t subscribe to any specific set of beliefs about reincarnation or the afterlife, he had always had a strong sense that Will was waiting on the other bank of a dark river—be it Lethe, or some other border between the living and the dead. He was there among the green grass, the sky above as dark a blue as his eyes, waiting patiently for Jem and Tessa to join him, that he might lead them by the hand to whatever wonders lay beyond the veil.

The philosophers of ancient Greece had believed dreams and sleep to be the twin of death: Morpheus and Hades, standing side by side. And here, in that space, Magnus would not have been surprised if Will stretched out his hand to those he had loved best in life—to Jem and Tessa.

He was, after all, a Herondale, and very stubborn.

Alec sidled up to Magnus, leaving the Blackthorns in the capable hands of his siblings and their partners. The kids seemed to have taken Mark’s appearance as a sort of wedding favor created especially for them.

Alec twinned an arm around Magnus’s waist and pulled him close, kissing him on the temple. “It was very kind of you to use the last of your Svefnthorn magic on this,” he said.

Magnus leaned into Alec. “Well, it wasn’t enough magic to send us to the moon, or get us into the front row at the Alexander McQueen runway. So I figured, next best thing.”

Alec smiled at him pointedly. “Actually, I happen to know that you did it because you are an incredibly kind person, and that is one of the many things I love about you.”

“Oh dear,” Magnus said, turning to face him. “You know all my secrets.”

Then they were kissing, and kissing in a magical dream turned out to be just as perfect as kissing in the waking world.

#jessa #jem carstairs #tessa gray #magnus bane #jessa wedding #the lost book of the white #tlbotw #lbw #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #in dreams begin

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soulventure91 · 3 years

Note

and 7, 14, and 52 for Diric!

100 warmup dnd queries!!!

Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc.

(BEAUTIFUL ARTS BY @sbeep and @morganzephyr!!!)

MY BOY who has gone through A Lot in the...3? 4? years I've been playing him. Still prefers dressing in darks, trying to look like not much more than a simple soldier. Doesn't help when wearing a mithril half-plate armor suit and toting multiple powerful weapons, in particular the Axes of Bahamut and the screaming greatsword Sunderer. While he's garnered no additional physical scars of note, he did go from half-Drow to full Drow after falling victim to a bargain with hags while in the Feywild and managing to undo the curse (which briefly turned him into a very angry songbird).

He's also still battling with severe post-traumatic stress that he came baked in with (70 years of an elder brain in your head will do that) and struggling with variable-low self-esteem as he tries to figure out his role as the one primarily-physical fighter of the party (and a couple ASIs short as a mixed fighter/barbarian). He's long overdue for several therapy sessions.

Has your character ever been in love? BOY HOWDY has he ever. Before his current relationship, Diric was constantly falling into love with others in his army unit, the Void-Delvers. He kept being trapped in a very toxic cycle of falling for someone who would benefit from his attentions and skill as a fighter, be used as a stepping-stone towards promotion out of the unit, and get left behind with a broken heart in his hands. Usually as a result he'd fall into casual physical relationships until the cycle started up again.

But that's changed in the 3 in-game months since he met Maahes - an exiled prince hiding behind so many masks Mio probably didn't realize it until Diric rolled into his life. The two of them hit it off remarkably quickly, understanding each other instantly in ways that, if they hadn't been in a wildly-chaotic adventuring group, might have been almost downright unsettling. But they stayed together despite life-changing ups and downs in those months, and love each other deeply. However, due to their own internal struggles, Diric and Maahes are possibly going to have a small reset following the current arc - from there, the only hope is they keep growing healthily and together.

If your character was granted a single use of Wish, what would they use it for? Oh. Oh boy. This one is so easy but it would change so much.

Diric would wish for his (human) father to be alive.

Now if it were done as Dir's father reappeared in the current campaign, it probably wouldn't shift much overall - Diric would have access to his human heritage again, certainly, be able to show his father all he's become (as Dir was just a baby when his father died).

But. If it were executed as Diric's father simply didn't die at that point in Diric's life? That he lived his life, with his son and wife, to a point he would naturally die, as a human in love with an elf?

For one, Diric likely would never have grown up feeling as though he was unwanted, to the point of thinking he was a bastard - someone to be ashamed of. Since his father was effectively king of one of the major human clans near the Drow territory of Blackthorn, Diric might have been raised a prince when with his father's people, and treated with at least a level of diplomatic respect given that position when among the Drow. Instead of feeling exiled from two worlds, Diric might have belonged to two worlds.

However - all those perks would mean he wouldn't have been sent to fight in the Underdark. Never enslaved by mind flayers. And possibly never have met the party he currently considers family.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd: faelethris - the talisman #oc: diric vajon

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thatnerdnextdoor24 · 3 years

Text

Under the Mistletoe

I hope your holidays were wonderful! Here is a little gift, from me to you!

Read Part One. This is Part Two!

Ao3

More Kit/Ty

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ty was moderately fond of Christmas. When he had been younger, he could just barely remember Christmas with his parents. He remembered the last Christmas they had had with their mom, how thin and weak she was. He remembered that the next year, Helen, trying to keep them all together while his dad struggled to fix what was broken. Then there were the years with Julian. He made Christmas a simple, but fun affair. But then Livvy died, and Ty's days bled together and neither he or his ghostly sister could tell, exactly, when the holidays had come and gone.

It was more recently, when he and Kit moved in together, that Christmas had dug a bigger he in his heart. Every year they went to Devon for Christmas morning, then to Las Angeles for dinner that night. And the rest of the day? That was just purely Kit and Ty.

Christmas was alright in Ty's eyes. It was just like any other holiday. He never found himself overly excited, but this year, there are butterflies in his stomach. He's wondering if the gifts he got for his loved ones, (which used to be a short list but was now much longer.) Were good enough.

“Do they know we’re on our way?”

Ty wrestles himself from his thoughts, returning to the present. In a pick up truck, heater blasting and radio just quiet enough to be heard over. Irene sat in his lap, asleep in the weak sunlight drifting in from the windshield. The phone in his hand vibrates with Julian’s recent text. “Yeah.” Ty answer's Kit’s question, his gaze drifting to look at his boyfriend. Kit’s smiling, fingers tapping and voice humming with the music. The morning light makes his hair glow gold, and his Herondale ring glint silver. Kit glances his way, and smiles. "Think it'll be fun?" He asks.

Ty shrugs, "I think it'll be loud." He says, frankly. "And a little fun." He concedes. Big parties were not Ty's idea of fun. But...parties were always better with Kit there. Always more fun. Always more laughs. Even when Ty would have to step out because things just felt too loud. Kit would be right behind. To hold his hand, hug him tight, tell him it was ok if he was done for the night. Ty usually was. Kit never complained about leaving early, was always ready with an excuse to leave if needed. Always seemed content to come back home and spend the night with each other and no one else.

It was one of the reasons Ty loved Kit so much.

Sometimes he wondered, in the back of his mind, if Kit ever got annoyed or tired of Ty. If maybe, one day, he would decide that Ty wasn't worth the trouble.

"Probably." Kit agreed. "There are going to be a lot of people there. But at least we know most of them." His hand falls from the wheel and intertwines with Ty's. With the truck turning off the highway and onto a familiar road, Ty licked his lips. "I don't know if I'm ready for Christmas madness." He says. Kit sighs wearily, "No one ever really is."

Their eyes meet for just a moment and Ty feels himself smile. They pull up the road and park outside the Institute. Irene wakes as they stop, perking up in excitement as she realizes where they are. Before they leave the truck, Ty leans over and steals a kiss from his boyfriend. "It'll be okay. As long as we keep you away from the alcohol." Ty and Irene dash out of the truck before Kit could respond with anything more than a laugh.

They didn't even reach the front door before it was thrust open. "Ty-Ty!!" Tavvy barreled into Ty's awaiting arms, he grunted slightly under the weight. Tavvy wasn't a little kid anymore, that was for sure. But that didn't change the way he always greeted his brother. Even though Ty lived 20 minutes away, and was over every Saturday morning, Tavvy still hugged him as if he hadn't seen him in a hundred years. Ty squeezed his little brother back before Tavvy released him, and crashed into Kit instead. A laugh from the front door tore Ty’s attention to Julian, who was grinning and holding the door open. Irene darted between his legs and into the Institute. No doubt heading for the fireplace. “How was the drive?” Julian asks, like he does every time they visit. “It was fine,” Ty answers, like he does every time. He smiles at this little bit of normal routine. He treasures it, knowing it will soon be ruined when all the guest arrive and the little kids start running around and there are a more people cooking in the kitchen than the fire department would like and-

“Faster!! Faster!!!” Ty is pulled from his spiraling thoughts by Tavvy’s laugh. He turns to find Tavvy has managed his way onto Kit’s back, and Kit is spinning him around and around, faster and faster. Julian rolls his eyes at them and helps Ty unload the gifts they brought from the truck and Ty’s heartbeat calms down. He sneaks a couple of deep breaths when no one is looking. Emma emerges from the hallway, she conscripts Ty to help her put a few more decorations up. Mostly, the mistletoe in the door ways. It’s been tradition for Ty to put those up, every year. His dad used to put him on one shoulder, and Livvy on the other. Together, the three of them would search for the best, or most inconvenient, locations for mistletoes. Now though, Ty did it by himself.

Julian has taken Kit into the kitchen. Ty can hear them laughing as they start the cooking for the night. When they had first started dating, Kit’s cooking skills had taken him by surprise. Kit had just shrugged and said, “Jem and Tessa taught me some.” As their relationship grew, Kit told him the whole truth. “My dad didn’t take care of himself.” He whispered into the dark between them, one night. “He didn’t take care of me, either. But I was a kid and I didn’t understand that I needed to be taken care of. But he was a mess, a huge, ugly, mean, mess. But he was my dad, too. I thought that meant that I was supposed to take care of him. So I did a lot of the things that he didn’t. I learned to cook, and clean. I bought groceries when he forgot, or when he was out of town for a long time. I just…” He looked over at Ty, his fingers feather light as he brushed away hair from Ty’s face. “I just learned to keep going.”

Ty hoped that he had shown him, that it was okay to be taken care of. He hoped Kit had learned to sit back, sometimes, and let others do their jobs.

“I think it looks good,” Emma said, stepping back to look at their handiwork. The mistletoe hung, just out of reach so it wouldn’t get caught in anyone's hair. (That had happened one year, and Helen still refused to walk underneath mistletoe.) But the red berries caught the light just right, and shimmered a little. Ty nods, and Emma reaches up to ruffle his hair. He swats her hand away, but he laughs all the same. He loves the way that Emma tries to make the hole in his heart, where Livvy used to be, a little smaller. “C’mon,” she says, and Ty already knows what she's going to say. “Let's go play some checkers,”

He’s already nodding before she’s finished. Though, playing checkers on Christmas Eve wasn’t a Ty and Livvy tradition, that one was purely Ty and Emma. The checkers board is worn and faded, and some of the pieces have seen better days but they don’t complain. They set it up in the family room, in front of the fireplace and Christmas tree. Irene has already made her home there, and comes to lay her head on Ty’s lap as they play on the floor. The two of them play while the rest of the Blackthorns make their way into the room. Helen and Aline pass their baby daughter back and forth between themselves. The baby is constantly changing which of her moms is her current favorite.

Dru, Ash, and Cristina have taken up the floor next to them and are playing some kind of card game with Tavvy. Mark is helping Ash cheat by looking at other people's cards for him. Kieran is doing the same thing for Crisrtina (How Kieran managed to get the holiday off, despite being the literal king of Faire, Ty has absolutely no idea) But somehow Dru is still winning. Julian and Kit are still in the kitchen, and every once in a while shout for Cristina’s help. Mark has offered to help them, and each time there has been a resounding “NO” from everyone within earshot.

Despite the familial chaos around them, Emma and Ty have made a sort of bubble of calm around themselves. As they take turns creeping their pieces across the board, a shimmering of silver catches Ty’s eye. Emma’s wedding ring sits on her left hand, catching the glow from the fire. She sees him looking and smiles. “I had asked Julain for his Blackthorn ring,” she says, and rolls her eyes. “Because it’s a cute tradition and all. But then Julian flat out refused. I thought he was just attached to his ring or something but, then he told me that it would be pointless.” She slides the ring of her finger, holding it out to him. Ty takes it with gentle hands. It's a simple silver band, there's a gem set in the center. Upon closer inspection, Ty realizes that it's no precious gem, but a bit of shining sea glass. He smiles, thinking about Julian’s sea glass bracelets. He hands the ring back as Emma continues the story.

“He said that exchanging family rings is a sign of each family now accepting the couple as their own. He said it would be pointless for me to have a Blackthorn ring, because I’ve been a Blackthorn this whole time.” She smiles softly at the ring, at the memory. And Ty finds himself agreeing, “That’s right. You’ve always been a Blackthorn.” Emma’s cheeks turn a little pink and she leans over, kissing him on the temple. “Thank you, Ty-Ty.” They smile at one another, for a second, before Emma holds up her right hand. Both a Blackthorn ring, and a Carstairs ring, adorn her fingers. “Still wanted a Blackthorn ring, though. They look cool.”

Ty laughs and shakes his head at her a little. The two of them settle into another comfortable silence as their game continues. Ty moves one piece to the edge of her side of the board. As Emma goes to king it, Ty whispers, “I would want a family ring, too.” He’s not even sure when he’s started thinking about it, but recently, Ty has found himself awake at night, imagining what it would be like to get married. Emma blinks in surprise. But Ty smiles, and he knows it's a dopey, love sick kind of smile, as he looks at his own hand and imagines a Herondale ring on his finger. “Like you said,” His voice is quiet, like he’s sharing a secret, “It’s a cute tradition.” When he dares a glance back at Emma, she’s smiling at him and giving him a look he can’t really understand.

She almost looks like she's going to say something when a cry from the other side of the room breaks into their thoughts. Tavvy has stood up, his hands on his hips as he glares at Cristina, Mark, Ash, and Kieran. “You’re cheating!!! I can’t believe you!!” He shouts and they look away, guilty as charged. Dru has collapsed onto the ground, laughing. Emma shares one last glance at him, and winks, before going to help Tavvy dole out punishments. Ty sits there for a moment, wondering why he feels like Emma knows something he doesn’t.

~♡◇♤~♡◇♤~♡◇♤~

Cooking with Julian is always a high stakes game. Most of the time, Kit tries to keep Julian from even looking at what he's doing. Knowing that no matter what he does, Julain will tell him it's wrong. Truth be told, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way Kit cooks. In fact, Kit is a damn fine cook, and he knows it. Julian just has a very specific way of doing things, and if it's not done Julian's way, well then, it's not right.

It doesn't help that the two of them have a silent rivalry when it comes to cooking and secret recipes.

Despite this, they still manage to work in a smooth and seamless team. They know what dishes they will make, and which ones they will not touch. (Kit will never stuff a turkey. Sorry, but he draws the line at shoving his hand up a turkey's ass.)(but likewise, Julian will never let anyone know how bad he is at making pies.) This was the first time that the LA Institute was holding the big Christmas party. So Kit got the feeling that Julian wanted to impress everyone. Kit wasn’t sure why he wanted to do that, everyone has been impressed by him since he took over the Institute at age twelve. But it was also kind of sweet, the way Julian still wanted to impress the people older than him. Kit would never say that to his face, but he would think it every now and then.

As they cooked, the conversation between them flowed easily. They laughed and teased and Kit was immensely grateful that Julian never brought up the one thing Kit didn’t want to talk about. Even though it was clear that he was dying for news, Julian never brought up the engagement. Kit’s anxiety was already high, buzzing constantly under his skin. The last thing he needed was for people to start voicing the questions he already had or to judge his plan or his idea.

Truthfully, Kit didn’t even have a plan. Not really. He was just praying to the Angel that the perfect opportunity would just….happen….

His peace in the kitchen with Julian didn’t last long, however. While they put everything in the oven to bake, or the fridge to chill, the two of them went to join the others in the living room and wait for their guests to arrive. Kit wasn’t entirely sure what had happened while they were in the kitchen. But somehow, Cristina, Mark, Kieran, and Ash were all wearing Santa hats that had “Naughty List” written on them, while Emma took photos on her phone. Ash and Cristina were trying to get the phone from her. Mark seemed to be enjoying the attention. Meanwhile, Dru and Tavvy were inhaling chocolates, and every once and a while they would throw one just to see if Kieran could catch it in his mouth. For the King of Fairie, he was surprisingly undexterous.

Among all this chaos, was Ty. He was sitting on the couch with Helen and Aline and their baby. He was laying his head against Helen’s shoulder as she ran her long fingers through his hair. Kit thought that Ty might fall asleep at any moment. He came to join them as Julian took the baby from Aline’s arms. For a man who, by all accounts, should be tired of children. He adored babies. Kit let out a laugh as Julian threatened to keep the baby for himself and Aline threatened to stuff him into the turkey.

Ty opened his eyes just enough to give Kit a sleepy smile as he sat down. “Hey,” Ty murmured. “Hey,” Kit said back, pulling Ty’s legs onto his lap. Ty leaned a little farther back against Helen, and she swatted his hair away before turning to talk to Aline and Julian. Giving them a little pocket of privacy. Which Kit appreciated.

"How's it goin’?" He says in a singsong voice. Ty shrugs, "Pretty good. Emma and I played checkers."

"Did you win?"

"Of course I won. Someone in this relationship has to be a winner."

Kit feigned offense. "I'm hurt. To think my own boyfriend could be so cruel." Ty chuckled, but didn't say anything, his eyes already closing. It only took moments for Ty to fall asleep against his sister. Kit slid Ty's shoes off and placed them on the floor, knowing how much Ty hated sleeping with his shoes on. When he looked up, he realized that the chatter of the Blackthorns had stopped. Now, everyone was looking at him. Most of them were smiling mischievously. Kit felt his cheeks go red. "What?"

Emma snorted. "What', he says. Like he doesn't know." She stuck her tongue out at him, he would have returned it if Dru hadn't thrown a chocolate at him. "Oww!" He hissed as it bounced off his forehead. Dru paid him no head, "When are you gonna do it!" She all but shouts. Both Kit and Helen shush her, Kit holds his breath as Ty shifts a little, but doesn't wake. He lets out a sigh of relief. "Watch it," Kit warns, tossing the chocolate back at Dru. She catches it effortlessly.

"You didn't answer the question…" Ash points out. Kit finds that he can't look at them. Any of them. So he looks at Ty's legs on his lap, and picks a speck of lint of his Christmas sweater. "Tonight," he says, simply. "When?" Cristina prompts. To this, he stays silent. The silence draws on, awkward and heavy between them all.

"Kit..." Aline draws.

"Christopher." Mark throws his Santa hat at Kit. He swats it away and feels his face grow hot.

Finally, Ash just sighs and announces, "He doesn't have a plan. He thinks the 'right moment' will just happen." The room erupts into outraged shouts and groans. Helen and Kit shush everyone again, and by some Christmas miracle, Ty stays asleep. Everyone lowers their voices, but still berates Kit for his poor planning.

"You can't just know. Knowing you, you'll probably just chicken out." -Dru.

"Por el amor de Dios. You've GOT to be kidding me," -Cristina.

"Do you have any plans? At all???" -Helen.

"You put too much trust in him," -Tavvy.

"Alright fine. All that matters, is that he has a ring," At Aline’s addition, Kit perked up. "I do have that!" He said, a little too excitedly. "Where is it?" Mark asked. Kit held up his right hand, with his Herondale ring.

There was a mixed chorus of replies. Helen thought that he should probably clean the ring before he gave it to him, which was true. Mark thought that giving your family ring was cheating a little. While the room broke into sides about whether giving your family ring was romantic, or cheap, a hand came to rest on Kit’s shoulder. It was Emma, who had come around to the back of the couch. "Hey, Kit?" He turned his head to her at that. Emma smiled at him, and then nodded to Ty, "You're going to be just fine."

Her assurance in him flooded warmth in his chest. He found himself smiling, letting out a breath of relief. Emma pressed a kiss to his cheek, and patted his shoulder.

So maybe Kit didn't really have a plan. And maybe he was a total coward and even just thinking about getting down on one knee made his palms sweat uncontrollably. But Emma Carstairs, yes, the Emma Carstairs, hugged his shoulders from behind, and told him "You got this." So. Yeah. Kit had this in the bag.

Hopefully.

~♡◇♤~♡◇♤~♡◇♤~

The party was in full swing. The guests had arrived right on time. (Well, the Lightwood-Banes were fashionably late. But that was expected.) The dining room hadn't been big enough for all the guests. So everyone had gathered their food on plates and spread out through the Institute. Kit had forgotten how many people he actually knew. Every room he went into, he ran into a familiar face. Every room had a different game or conversation, a different Christmas song in the background. Though he stopped in every room, there was only one face he wanted to find. He and Ty had gotten separated at some point, and in a party like this, it was nearly impossible to find each other again.

He was passing through the kitchen when a small figure, glad in a red and green tutu, crashed into his legs. "Kit-kat!" Mina yelled, and held her arms up to be picked up. She was getting too big to do that, but neither of them cared. Kit scooped her up and tickled her side. She laughed, and the sound was sorely missed. Kit visited Devon almost weekly, but it never felt like enough. "Did you grow taller since last week?" Kit asked. A laugh from behind caught him by surprise. Tessa and Jem were in the doorway, both in cheesy Christmas sweaters. "She most certainly did." Jem remarked, coming to put his arm around Kit’s shoulders.

Kit leaned into him instinctively, letting Jem's steady presence reassure him. He took a deep breath of his dad's scent, and then asked, "Have either of you seen Ty?" Tessa shook her head, "No. I take it you haven't asked yet, then?" Kit shook his head.

"Kit," Mina whispered, cupping her hand around his ear, like she was going to tell him a secret. "Can I be the flower girl at your wedding?" Kit held in his laugh, looking at her seriously. He nodded once. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." Mina beamed. Kit glanced over at Tessa, and found her smiling a secret sort of smile at him. She nodded to the back door, "Shall we?"

He wasn't sure what they were going to do, but he nodded all the same. Jem took Mina from his arms, and ruffled his hair. Tessa held her hand out to him and he took it. She lead him out the backdoor and into the statue garden. Kit hadn't realized how hot it was before the cold air hit his face. A breeze rippled through his hair. "It's strange to see Christmas without snow," Tessa remarks, staring out at the stars. Her soft brown curls were pinned up with pearls, gleaming softly in the low light. Not for the first time, Tessa looked both impossibly young, and wise with age at the same time.

They sit on a stone bench, and are quiet for a long moment. "I want to give you something, Kit." Tessa finally said. Kit raised an eyebrow, "You know, Christmas isn’t until tomorrow." Tessa smiled, "Then consider this an early present." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

"What, you proposing to me, now?"

Tessa rolled her eyes and handed him the box. Kit clicked it open, and his breath caught. "Tessa…"

Inside the box, was a shinning, silver, Herondale ring. It looked just as old as Kit's, but it was smoother, and a little smaller. Tessa wrapped her arm around him, "The one you wear," she says, "Was James's." He turns to her at that. "I didn't know." The fact that she had given that to him, even when he was fifteen and angry all the time. But Tessa only shrugs. "I figured, both my sons should have it."

She brushes a finger against the ring in the box. "This one," she whispers, "Was Cordelia's. You can tell, because she didn't get nearly as much ichor on it as James did." She laughs at this, and Kit thinks about the pictures of Cordelia at the house in Devon. "I imagine her pure beauty and talent repelled dirt and ichor." He murmured and Tessa snorted. "She was...one of a kind. Like your Ty." She nudges Kit, and when he looks up at her, the soft and loving look she gives him makes his eyes well up with tears.

“Will proposed to me on Christmas, too.” She says, her voice impossible soft. He hugs her then, tight. His head tucking under her chin like he was a teenager again and not a young man. “You’re going to be just fine, Kit. He loves you, and you love him, and that's all that matters. The rest is just…” She gestures at the garden around them, “I was going to say snow, but maybe in LA, it would be sand.” Tessa shrugs at her failed analogy. “Nothing else matters,” She explained, and looked him in the eyes with a stern look, “Just as long as you love one another. And I know you do.”

"Thank you," he crooked. Tessa kissed his forehead. "I love you, Kit," she whispered. She knew how hard the words were hard for him to say to her, and to Jem. So when Kit whispered back, "I love you, too." She squeezed him tight.

Kit left Tessa in the statue garden, and made his way back into the party. The ring, a comforting weight in his pocket. His head felt clearer and he knew where Ty would be.

Kit knocked on the trap door before lifting it up. He climbed onto the roof, instantly getting hit with memories of him and Ty sneaking away at dozens of events. Sure enough, Ty sat at the edge of the roof. When he saw Kit approach, he grinned. Kit sat next to him, "Hey stranger," he ran his hand up Ty's back. He felt him shiver.

"It got kind of loud." Ty said, by way of explanation. Kit nodded in agreement. Even now, a gentle Christmas song floated through an open window and up to the roof. "We can go whenever you want," he reminds him, like he always does. Ty tends to get it in his head that his needs don't matter. Kit does the same thing, too. So they take care of each other. With little reminders or quiet company.

Ty shakes his head. "I'm good," he glances at Kit, "I just want to sit up here, with you. If that's okay?" He tilts his head, his dark hair falling into his silver eyes. Kit reaches out and brushes it back. "Of course it is," his hand lingers on Ty’s cheek, and he leans into the touch. Ty turns his face, kisses Kit’s palm.

Something happens at this moment. Maybe the light just, hit him just right. Maybe the goddamn Angel himself sent a sign. Maybe Kieran was down below, using some Fairie King Magic to make everything just right. It didn't really matter how it happened, the point is, everything was perfect. Nothing in Kit’s life had ever been perfect. Except for this. Except for Ty.

A cool breeze turned their noses and cheeks red. Their fingers into icicles. Baby It's Cold Outside is playing softly in the distance. And Kit finds himself humming along. So he stands up, and holds out his hand. "Dance with me," He says, his voice sounding low even in his own ears. Ty laughs but takes his hand. "We can have our own little party right now," Kit grins, pulling Ty up.

Ty rolls his eyes but let's Kit lead him in a dance, anyway. "You're a dork," he remarks. Kit spins him, "And you're beautiful." Ty blushes. Even now that they're grown and Kit tells him he's beautiful every chance he gets, Ty still blushes. And it makes Kit's heart soar. Kit tugs him closer by the waist, "I love you," he whispers, and feels his voice crack a little. Because it's true. Kit loves him, more than he knew he could possibly love someone. And everyday, it grows just a little bit more.

"Ty, I-"

Shit.

He can't even get the worst out. He swallows thickly. There's a pressure building in his eyes. He knows he's going to cry, but at this point. Ty has seen every twisted, rotten, vulnerable, messy, wonderful side of Kit. He's seen him cry a dozen times before, so really, at this point, Kit doesn't care.

"Ty, I love you so much." Tears are already welling in his eyes and his feet are struggling to keep moving. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Kit has to clear his throat to keep going. They've stopped dancing now, and Ty is wiping away his tears with gentle fingers.

"What's wrong, Christopher?"

Kit hiccups a sob as his name leaves his loved one's mouth. "Nothing. I'm sorry I just-" he forces a watery laugh. "I don't want to be with anyone else. Tiberius. I love you. Do you….do you understand?" From the way that Ty blinks at him, the way his face is pinched in concern, Kit doesn't think he does. He curses himself. Trust him to make some confusing love confession while sobbing. At this point, there is only one way for him to be completely clear. Kit takes Ty's hand.

He gets down on one knee.

Ty's eyes widen. His chest rises and falls rapidly. His fingers tighten their grip on Kit’s hand.

"Tiberius." Kit says, his voice steadier. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves the blue velvet box. He clicks it open.

"Will you marry me?"

There's a silence for a long time and Kit fears the worst-

Until Ty meets his eyes. Kit sees that the reason he hasn't spoken, is simply because his hand is covering his mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks. But he's grinning from ear to ear and nodding rapidly. "Yes." He chokes out. "Yes. Angel yes, I'll marry you, Christopher!!" He tugs Christopher up and it's hard to tell which one of them pulls the other into a kiss, but it's watery, a little salty, and the sweetest thing Kit has ever experienced. Ty’s hands fist into his sweater, and Kit tugs him closer with one hand, the other carefully holding the ring up and out of the way. Ty kisses him harder, like he can’t express how he feels in any other way than by closeness and pressure and heat and-

Kit stumbles back, his foot sliding on a patch of ice and he comes crashing down on the roof, pulling Ty down with him. He lands with a loud bang and he groans as pain spikes up his back and Ty’s elbow collides with his ribs. Ty can’t even apologize, he’s already laughing. Kit joins him and then there they are. On the cold, wet, icy roof. Tears flowing down both their cheeks, and they’re laughing. Kit manages to slide the ring onto Ty’s cold finger, but he can’t bring himself to find the strength to stand.

The trap door suddenly bursts open and Julian Blackthorn’s head appears, “Is everything okay?! We heard a bang-shit, what happened?”

Kit and Ty laugh harder as Julian pulls himself onto the roof and the heads and faces of all their friends and family pop in and out of view. Kit wonders if they’ve been waiting down there the whole time. If Tessa ran off to tell everyone that Kit was going to do it as soon as their conversation had finished.

Probably.

They all share bewildered looks, but instead of forming coherent sentences, Kit just laughs, brushes away a tear, and holds up Ty’s left hand in victory. A roar of cheers and applause erupt from down below, one that sounds like it starts from Emma and Ash. Julian pulls them up and brushes off some of the dirty ice from the roof, before they are ushered down the ladder and into the warm, welcoming, rejoicing arms of their family.

Even as Jem squeezes him tight and Jace ruffles his hair, Kit’s eyes never leave Ty’s.

He grins.

Ty grins back.

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julesblackthorns · 4 years

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Tell me about your Julian blackthorn father's Day headcanons 👀

@lorelaigilmo said: You wanted someone to ask you abt julian blackthorn father's day headcanons and I am nothing if not a good considerate friend 😇

awwwww u guys!!!!!!!!! this got kinda out of hand bc i have FEELINGS but here we go

okay so shadowhunters don’t have father’s day, but kit mentioned it offhandedly once (some kind of one liner decimating johnny rook’s parenting skills, you know ‘once my dad threw the rock i painted for him at someone who followed us home for 4 blocks - happy father’s day!’ - btw kit totally does father’s day w jem and mina) and ty was curious about it and looked it up

he mentions it to dru and she’s down to clown and so suggests that they do some kind of father’s day celebration for julian - the scene where dru talks about julian being the person who she pictures when she thinks ‘parent’ kills me 😭

ty is a little surprised at this, still very much associating their actual dad with the idea of ‘father’s day’, but agrees that (a la ty’s letter to annabel) julian, as their primary carer for all these years - although he has stepped back a bit and gets more support now - would definitely qualify

And there is Jules. You might like him the best. He is the one who takes care of us all. He is the reason we’re all okay and still together. I don’t think he knows we know that, but we do. Sometimes he might tell us what to do or not listen, but he would do anything for any of us. People say we’re unlucky because we don’t have parents. But I think they’re unlucky because the don’t have a brother like mine.

obviously they seek out emma who is ALSO down to clown and thinks it’s a great idea because for so long julian raised all these kids alone and sacrificed his siblinghood and childhood in doing so, and it would be nice to have that pain acknowledged and his care celebrated a bit now that he’s not living in fear that the kids will be taken away from him

mark and helen have mixed feelings, they have more memories of their actual father and were raised by him before he was killed and also they were separated from their family for so long while julian was left to hold together the pieces. they feel loss and pride and sadness and joy - because they still grieve their father and their separation and julian’s sacrifices, but also see the family he raised and how much love and tenderness and happiness he managed to foster despite such awful circumstances, and agree that it would be a nice thing to do

tavvy is hugely excited - julian is the only parent he remembers and, despite no longer being his only parental figure, he and tavvy have a very special relationship (*supercut* julian sketching in tavvy’s room, julian slipping while carrying tavvy and thinking of him as ‘my baby’, tavvy’s general insistence that julian stay with him and stress/horror at being separated, tavvy saying ‘jules carry me. i’m tired. i want to go home’ and cursed!julian being like ‘hold on my baby needs me’) and tavvy dictates that they will make pancakes for jules and they will paint for jules because jules likes pancakes and painting 😌

julian, being julian, obviously is completely aware that this is going on despite them conspiring to keep it a surprise

he wakes up and smells pancakes. tavvy is peaking around his door and squeals when he sees julian is awake before throwing himself into the bed with him and tackling him. julian tries to calm tavvy down, but notices that his hands are sticky and sees some flour in his hair and is like ‘is there something going on in the kitchen?’ to which tavvy is like ‘👀 nooooo’ and then jumps out of the bed and starts running down towards the kitchen yelling ‘HE’S COMINGGGGGGGGGGGG’

julian heads down to the kitchen and finds his whole family an absolute mess, emma determinedly trying to flip a pancake (and failing lbr) with aline, dru and tavvy cheering her on, and instead of freaking out at the state of his kitchen that he used to scrub clean and burn himself in as he tried to teach himself how to cook as a child, he starts laughing and takes over the pancake making - there are protests but no one can really deny that julian is expert here

julian is then presented with his presents, a series of drawings and paintings, tavvy did three - one of him and julian, one of their whole family and one of a ladybird (all painted with his hands ofc), dru did a couple of sketches of the beach and gives julian one of the better ones, ty gives julian a painted rock and also a carefully inked drawing of a bee, mark did an impressionistic painting of the night sky, with the stars he used to use to remember them by (’like van gogh’ ‘........’ ‘the famous impressionist painter who did a starry night’ ‘........... ah!’) and helen, who says she can’t draw but is actually pretty good, did a sketch of their family that, while not as good as tavvy’s, still gets hung with the rest of them in julian’s studio

and then it’s a fairly regular day for them - training, catching up with what’s been going on in each other’s lives - especially mark and ty’s - joking around and playing games

at one point helen asks emma and aline if they would mind taking over watching the younger ones and leaves the room with mark and julian

the three oldest siblings are able to sit together and talk about their father and grieve him together

ty, who has followed them, comes in and sits with them quietly and a few minutes later emma and aline arrive behind dru and tavvy - they shoot helen twin apologetic looks, but helen just smiles back

emma goes to sit with julian and remembers how julian had killed his father and suddenly thinks that maybe this day wasn’t such a good idea after all, but julian takes her hand and squeezes it and writes ‘thank you’ onto her arm

#this got so fucking long but yes i am still blackthorn trash #tda #tsc #the blackthorns #julian blackthorn #long post #mostawesomepineapple #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #helen blackthorn #mark blackthorn #emma carstairs #blackstairs

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sideblog-666-thousand · 3 years

Text

Samoth and Tyr (ex-Borknagar) Interview, 1999. Ft. Samoth being a massive cunt. Part One.

Originally, I was going to post a much more interesting ‘view of Emperor, but due to the nature of it, and Tumblr’s 250 blocks of text per post cap, I ended up doing this. Hilariously enough, this one ALSO exceeds the max so I’ll have to put it in two parts as well. At least this one is more easily managed, due to the lack of rambling answers.

The last two —and the mythical ‘view that never was— were all in writing, before being scanned, and then eventually typed up by yours truly. This one was actually posted onto the internet back in... I think the early 00s? I found it in class one afternoon, back when I was a high-schooler. It says on the bottom that it was written in 1999 but that might not be the posting date. It’s old though.

So, in other words, I just copy-pasted this mysterious interview onto here with some minor alterations to the format. Full credit goes to the original poster, who I’ll link— they made my job very easy.

To answer the question of “Ft. Samoth being a massive cunt”, I mean... I named all of my interview posts something sarcastic thus far. Of course, going out and calling somebody a ‘massive cunt’ is a little bit harsh, but.... Just read the interview, ok? It’s all tongue in cheek.

I’d also like to suggest a drinking game to pair with this ‘view... Every time Samoth says something a little bit TOO honest, I want you to take a shot of hard liquor. Afterwards, if you do this for whatever reason, I want you to tell me how drunk you got.

As always, any possible commentary is in (parenthesis) and bold. Asterisks below and optional, most of the time they’re just some added context that’s too long to put in the actual text.

Note: The next two interviews posted will be Emperor-related as well. I might post the other interview later tonight, but I’m not sure. The interview after that will be a very short one of Faust, where he rages about how he’s going to enact his revenge on Varg because I think it’s entertaining (but is it particularly insightful though....?). After that, it’ll be back to your regularly scheduled Mayhem programming.

Without further ado:

At the beginning of April 1999, Morbid Angel headlined various "No Mercy Festival" tour gigs throughout Europe, supported by, among others, Emperor, The Crown, Impaled Nazarene and Limbonic Art. After interviewing Morbid Angel and Limbonic Art, there was an opportunity to sit down for a while with Emperor members Samoth and [new bassist] Tyr. We talked with them about a wide variety of things - the Norwegian black metal scene, the early days of Emperor, the church burnings, Noctural Art Productions, a lot of things...

I: About the latest album, "Equilibrium IX"; people already said about the previous album there were a lot of eighties' metal influences on the album and I think it's especially true for the new album - do you agree?

S: Yeah, well, I don't think there is any direct influence, but of course we're all into the eighties' metal, so... Several people say that they can hear Morbid Angel-things and Mercyful Fate stuff in it... and so.

I: About the production - you changed production studios and it had a big influence on the sound... So why did you want to change the sound?

S: Well, we felt like that Grieghallen didn't really have much to offer anymore for us and we weren't that satisfied with the production of the previous album, so we decided to try a new studio and also work more creatively in the studio with the sound. I think the latest releases from Grieghallen weren't that good... I mean they do have some real classics like "De Mysteriis...", "In the Nightside Eclipse" and the Burzum albums, and stuff like that....It's not so much that we want to get rid of the 'standard black metal'-label, but because we want to try a new sound and also, we wanted to use a local studio, because we had booked three months in the studio - it's a small inconvenience if you just can't go home after a day of recording.

I: The bass player, Alver, he left - why was that?

S: Well, eh... I guess we demanded more from him than he could give us... He was also very busy with his job and he couldn't rehearse as often as we wanted him to, so.... he decided... I mean, he would have to really rehearse a lot more to get up to the standard for the new album.. so there are no hard feelings or anything - it was a mutual agreement that it's best that he would leave.

I: So now we have a new bass player*... Introduce yourself and have you been in any previous bands?

T: My name is Tyr - that's the Norse God. In my project band I also use this name - it's my artist's name. I've only played in amateur bands and stuff like that.

I: So, you were friends or anything?

T: No, just eh... there is a Norwegian magazine called "Scream magazine", have you ever heard of it? [Yes - ed]

S: It's the biggest metal magazine in Norway.

T: ...and they had placed an ad. So I auditioned; we played a couple of songs and I got the job, on the spot, so.

I: So how do you like it to play in metal legends Emperor?

T: I love it, yeah!! I come from a different scene, you know... This is the first black metal I have ever played. I am used to playing more progressive stuff - things like Dream Theater and stuff like that. But I must say there are progressive parts in the Emperor material as well... Actually I would like to say, that I am on a Fates Warning tribute album, it's coming out on a label called Planet Circus, a newly started American label - with my project band Morpheus Web and we're playing "The Sorceror" on this one. I think it should be released around May or June [1999].

I: Is there a huge progressive scene? I believe August (former guitarist of Arcturus, member of Tritonis) plays in a progressive band as well?

T: Yeah, Tritonis...They're a really good band.

S: We've played with them as well a couple of times.

T: There are so many good bands...

I: About the record company: Candlelight. I was thinking, you have a very succesful label yourself, why not put Emperor on Nocturnal Art Productions?

S: Well, for starters, we were committed to Candlelight Records, by conference... After "Anthems...", we wanted to change label.. and we were actually trying to get out for a while, but then things really changed with Candlelight - they kicked out the old label manager plus they get both fifty percent of the label and for the new album all has been going pretty well. I don't think we're actually going to stay with them in the long run*, but we're going to do at least one more album for them... because they treat us pretty good and we get good royalty rates and they have done a really good job for the new album. So things really progressed. We have been with Candlelight for so many years now, so we know the guys really well and they treat us... - we are their first priority, so it's cool. But we have got offers from bigger labels like Nuclear Blast and Century Media as well - we are discussing with these labels as well, but we'll see for the future.

I: Don't you think that if you sign to Nuclear Blast you will be 'just another black metal band' on the label?

S: No I think that if they would sign us, they would give us pretty good priorities.

I: ...and Dimmu would just have to step aside...

S: Naah, I think they would still have pretty good priority, I mean they're doing really good as well, so.

I: OK, well how is your label Nocturnal Art going?

S: Yeah, well it's going in the right direction, it's still a small label, but I mean I'm working on it, like, full time and it... everything has been going really well for Limbonic Art for example, so we have signed them for two more albums - it's going to bring the label up to another level. I'm working on it all the time, the label and the band; we rehearse three times a week and I have a lot of work to do for the label - it's getting pretty hectic as the band is getting bigger and the label is getting bigger as well... so I'm looking for somebody to work for me more...

I: Will Choronzon release another record on...

S: I don't think so, I mean, I really like the guy.. he's a really cool guy and he has some cool ideas, but I mean it's impossible to sell this... I mean nobody buys it - it's too weird so people don't understand it.

I: There was some old Thorns material which was released on Moonfog... I think originally it was supposed to be released on Nocturnal Art...

S: You're referring to the Thorns vs Emperor split... we'll we did a cover of Thorns and Thorns did a cover of Emperor and some other more weirder stuff. Yeah, well, I was talking with this Krupp [formerly known as Blackthorne, who was accomplice to the murder on Euronymous - he rang the doorbell, so Varg Vikernes could get in - ed] as he calls himself about doing it through NAP, but he later decided to sign to Moonfog, so...

I: So you had your first producing experience, I believe... How did that work out and can we expect more of you in this field?

S: Yeah, I was in the studio with Mactätus. I wasn't really the complete producer, it was recorded in the same studios as the new Emperor album, so it was the engineer who really did the producing, but I came in the room during the mixing process just as an objective ear to the sound. They we're satisfied...I don't think that I can do a full producer job by myself. I can like... - I've heard so much of this genre, so I know what's good and what's bad and what can be improved and stuff like that... I don't think I am the right person to do it really. I mean I don't have any technical background.

I: Faust, when he get's out of prison, will he go back into Emperor?

S: No, I don't think so, because Trym has been with us like for so many years and he's an important part of the band and I don't think it is fair to just check him out. It works really well with Trym... but maybe we'll do something else with Faust, I don't know... I don't think Faust thinks too much about it himself; he still has three years before he's out. I think he's being paroled at the end of 2002.... so, not that bad.. he's doing pretty good... He has hardly played drums for years, but he had a few leaves and he came up to see us and we were jamming a bit... And he still has it in his body, he just needs some time to get it back in...

I: ... maybe a sequel to Zyklon B...?

S: Maybe....time will tell.

I: About Emperor. What is more important - the music or the philosopical side, the ideas behind the lyrics, that sort of thing?

S: I would say the music.... but with Emperor it's important to have all the talents, you have the whole thing - you have the covers and the lyrics and the music and the whole thing has to be like one artistic expression. But music is the main thing.

I: The word 'Emperor' seems to be more than just the band name - the word comes up in the lyrics every so often...'I am the Emperor..' that sort of thing...

S: Especially in the older lyrics. It symbolizes several things...It can symbolize like eh...the Devil, I guess and it also symbolizes a mighty power ...the whole sound of Emperor is a mighty sound. It's like a matter of interpretation...I think the Emperor lyrics are like - there's a lot up to the listeners to make up their own imaginary world. We don't have a direct thing, like it's like this.

I: What does it mean to you? What does Emperor stand for to you?

S: I would say it means might, something mighty.

I: Do you know anything about the philosophies of the guys from Morbid Angel and what do you think about it?

S: I don't know to much, I think they've changed a bit since David Vincent left. So it's more back to the basic Cthulhu mythology and I don't know to much about that, but it's kind of interesting. He has some quite good ideas, this Azagthoth.

I: Do you prefer the period when David Vincent was still there?

S: Well, I very much like them now - I liked their last album*, but I think they were even better live than on CD. But I mean they are an excellent band.

I: Did you have any contact at all with the Morbid Angel guys? I mean they were really looking forward to being on tour with you...so I thought over a few beers...

S: We didn't party or anything, but we see them every day, so.. They're cool guys who treat us OK - they don't behave like rock stars or anything.

I: Do you listen to any recent black metal stuff yourself, or is it just the old classics?

S: Well, acually I think the new Dimmu Borgir is pretty good. Through my mail order I get almost every new black metal thing so I use to put them on and hear one song out, but there aren't that many albums that touch my feelings. I really like the old stuff like Tormentor as well, but I listen to a lot of different stuff, really, so it's not only black metal. I listen everything from techno and trance to black metal, electronic, ambient and stuff like that to eighties metal, death metal...

I: Do you have a lot of friends in black metal scene?

S: Well, a lot of contacts, but I don't hang out that much... First I live a bit far from the town and I am usually pretty busy with what I am doing, so... But I know all the bands, in Norway, more or less...

I: You decided not to wear corpsepaint because it became a trend, is that true?

S: We just felt like doing our own thing and it wasn't really because it became a trend, but just because we don't want to be like everybody else. When we first started out, we were pretty much like a standard black metal band, but these days, we are... not a standard black metal band so we don't wanna appear to be like just a typical black metal band. But I mean we still use some paint live and stuff and it's still important to have a 'performing image', but the average corpse paint is not so suitable. We just have white faces and look a bit pale.. It's just a show element.

I: Cradle of Filth have expressed their respect for you in the press, more than once and you've toured together a long time ago - are you in touch with those guys and what do you think about them?

S: I've met them a few times and we get along fine, so I mean I don't have any problems with them at all. I think they're, especially Dani of Filth, he's like a media bug, he's always in the media, whatever there is - but that's their thing.

I: Lots of black metal fans say: Oh, CoF - everybody is listening to that so that's..

S: It's very much a black metal thing. I mean bands like Cradle of Filth and Dimmu Borgir are being hated a lot, but actually those bands are professional bands with their own decisions and a lot of people say it just to put them on and that's just crap.

I: Do you think they' re making certain consessions towards their music, doing what the people expect of them...

S: I think they do what they want to do. So I don't think they've just changed their music to become more popular. I mean just listen to the new Dimmu Borgir - I mean a lot of people complain that Dimmu Borgir should sound like their first album, while their first album was really soft and really crap, while their new album is much more brutal. And Cradle of Filth as well, they haven't become any softer either.

I: What do you think is the destinction between confidence and arrogance?

S: [A long silence] You must have confidence in what you do, but I mean eh*...

T:...just don't let it go to your head and stuff like that. I think you can actually spot the difference when people just turn arrogant. I think I myself not being arrogant.

S: I think to a certain extent that some arrogance is also... I mean if you have made something of value in a way you have earned yourself to be, to have a certain like a certain arrogance, maybe, I don't know...

I: To put it a little more in a context: you made a few remarks during interviews that you thinkt the large part of the black metal scene is totally crap. There might be a lot of people around who think that's an arrogant remark.

S: Yeah, probably, but I mean if it's so, then I am arrogant towards some people, but I think a lot of people are crap, not only in the black metal scene and if that makes me arrogant to them, OK, then I am arrogant. But I don't really look on myself as being a complete arrogant person, really.

T: This is obviously a matter of a personal opinion. Everybody has a different taste, so... Of course, those are strong words, but - for a part it's wrong and for a part it's true. The musical aspects and their music is probably not as good as other bands, like Emperor I think.

That’s all for part one! :)

Asterisks in order of their appearances:

*Tyr was only in the band briefly, and didn’t appear on any studio album. He can be heard on “Imperial Live Ceremony”, released in 2000.

*They did, in fact, stay with Candlelight. With the exception of a few, almost every Emperor release to date has been done through Candlelight.

*The album he’s referring to is “Forumlas Fatal to the Flesh”, released in 1998. That said, I’m a big fan of Morbid Angel, and want to get around to translating one of the French interviews...

*When I tell you that I fucking ugly-laughed....

Here is the link to where I got this from: https://www.karsmakers.nl/metal-e-zine/emperor.htm

#emperor #interview #true norwegian black metal #black metal #samoth emperor #samoth #emperor band

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ravenclaw-alum · 4 years

Text

The Lost Book of the White

My thoughts on The Lost Book of the White (spoilers ahead for LBOTW and In Dreams Begin), which ended up being longer than I thought:

I love Alec and Magnus’ relationship and being able to see it, because you can see them grow. They don’t just come together and it’s happily ever after, we get to see them actively working to make their relationship work. This is something we see once again in LBOTW and it makes me fall more in love with them as a couple because, despite one being a warlock and the other being a Shadowhunter, they seem more realistic than many other couples in fiction. They show that love takes work and they’re willing to put in the work, and, as someone whose parents have been divorced multiple times, Magnus and Alec are a couple to look up to and learn from, even if they are fictional.

There’s a lot in this book that hints at events that take place in TDA. This was also the case with Red Scrolls of Magic and events that take place in the last half of TMI series. This makes me very excited for Black Volume of the Dead, because I bet we’re going to see some foreshadowing for TWP and that it’ll lay some of the foundation for that series.

Going along with that, Sammael discusses how powerful a group of people working together can be, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe he didn’t play a role in pushing things to the breaking point with the Cohort or the isolation of Alicante. Honestly, following Sammael for power purposes seems like the type of thing Manuel would do.

I am very glad we learned what it was that led to the creation of Shadowhunters 1,000 years ago, despite demons being on Earth before then. I figured we would, considering some things hinted at in QOAAD, though I was not expecting Michael to be involved.

When Alec first gets to Shanghai, he briefly considers the fact that the mundane world may one day overtake the Shadow world. This is something we already kind of see with the Blackthorns and Emma, and I wonder if this is something we’ll see play out with him as Consul and if we’ll see more interaction between the Shadow World and the mundane world.

Multiple times in LBOTW, there’s reference to a giant cosmic chess game between the angels and the princes of hell. While we know the princes have/are planning to get up to stuff, I wonder if the angels are also up to something behind the scenes and if this is something we’ll see play out as the series goes on, Supernatural style.

The fact that the Ke house is older than the institute in Shanghai and how much the Ke family’s legacy is played up (which seems more impressive than the Herondale legacy, though I do love me some Herondales) makes me wonder just how long the Ke family has been fighting demons. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that there were mundanes fighting demons before the creation of Shadowhunters (considering there seem to be weapons that are unique and capable of killing demons beyond seraph blades), and if that’s the case, I like the idea of the Ke family being among those that have been fighting demons since before the time of Shadowhunters.

I was a little disappointed to not see more of Tessa in this book. While the focus is Magnus and Alec, the role of the eldest curses keep growing in importance and besides Magnus, Tessa is the only one we know. I’m hoping she’ll be more involved in Black Volume of the Dead, especially since that book is tied to Belial, who is her dad.

Speaking of Tessa and eldest curses besides Magnus, I’m curious if there are others. They say there can only be nine at most, and we know Sammael doesn’t have one, but are there any others out there besides Tessa and Magnus?

I’m really hoping that either in Black Volume of the Dead or TWP we get to see Sammael’s reaction to Ash, considering Ash’s ties to Lilith. I mean, he was searching for Sebastian because Lilith told him too, but he wouldn’t have known about Ash.

Both In Dreams Begin and a comment in LBOTW about “Tessa’s descendants” have me further convinced that despite what may or may not happen between Lucy and Jesse, the Blackthorns are related to Tessa.

Elias Carstairs helped kill Yanlou. Knowing how difficult that demon was to kill, and considering it sounds like it was Elias and Ke Yiwen who killed Yanlou without mention of any other help, was Elias already an alcoholic then? If so, did he sober up for revenge purposes?

There’s a lot of mention of “the Taxiarch,” which I’m assuming is another way they are referring to Michael, but if not, is this something that may reappear in a future book?

So, black adamas is a thing that can tie warlocks to a realm and its ruler. I feel like this is something that we’ll be seeing again, especially since there’s another Svefnthorn out there. Also, how does the corruption work? Is it exposure over a long period of time, or does it have to be intentional? I’m thinking particularly about Belial and the adamas he is using, despite it burning him, in GOTSM.

Elyaas makes another reappearance. While I doubt it will happen, I kind of want to see him make a temporary alliance with Magnus and Alec in a future book, even if it’s just to protect Max because he refuses to see Max die before he gives into Elyaas’ attempts at temptation we see him doing in GOTSM.

Alec says they’d all go into hell a third time for Magnus. I really hope that’s not foreshadowing. If someone has to go to another hell dimension, let’s keep Magnus and Alec out it. They deserve happiness and peace and an early retirement.

Tian talks about fairies not being bound by the same rules as everyone else. I wonder if that’ll apply to Kit and Ash?

I am greatly looking forward to seeing what side effects Ragnor has from being stabbed by Heibai Wuchang.

I really hope we see Tian again, even if it’s just a cameo in a future book. He was pretty cool and could do a lot to help Alec change how Shadowhunters view everyone else, considering the way Shanghai operates.

There’s a point in the book when Lucifer is brought up and Sammael narrows his eyes and says, “Well. We don’t talk about him.” When he later calls all of the princes together, he says it’s time to talk about Lucifer. I’m very curious to see what Lucifer did to cause this type of reaction and what he’s been up to. Especially considering Cassandra Clare’s comment about how he may not be who, or what, we think he is. It makes me wonder if maybe he isn’t someone we’ve met before. I’m also curious to know if all of this will play out in Black Volume of the Dead, or if, what i find more likely, everything with the princes will fully play out in TWP.

I’m also curious to know if all of the princes will join in with Sammael, particularly Belial who, in GOTSM, seems to enjoy being able to walk around on Earth and give humans the means of their own destruction. He really does seem like the type of prince of hell who would rather watch humanity destroy itself instead of sending in a bunch of demons to do the job.

#lbotw #lbotw spoilers #lost book of the white #alec lightwood #magnus bane #tessa grey #ke family #ragnor fell #sammael #belial #lucifer #in dreams begin #in dreams begin spoilers

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nabrizoya · 4 years

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This was the original reply/draft to prompt sent by @zvko way back in may (ily bro). this draft didn’t seem to suit well for the prompt, i thought. now though, i’ll let you decide. partly-edited. or just plain unedited lol.

54: One reaching for the others hand to comfort them, to provide support. A thumb brushing lightly against skin. + Jesse and Lucie.

Lucie was aware of the Tower bell chiming at midnight as she stared steadfastly at the barren windowsill. She preened her ears to hear the ghost of his laughter, all to no avail. The night looked unfazed by the atrocities her mind imposed on her. She sighed, restless and wide awake in her bed, and continued to stare at the ceiling.

She missed him. She craned her neck to the windowsill yet again and closed her eyes, thinking about the nights they had spent awake, talking and laughing until dawn drew them apart. She remembered the games of chess they played, the way he gestured for the pieces for her to move and would win. She reminisced the nights they had spent outside, in the rain and fog and snow, venturing on midnight voyages. And her stealthy pursuits for books on necromancy right under his nose and getting away with her plans? Successful.

She missed him. Terribly.

It had only been a few weeks that they had been apart. Jesse was back to life, still sick and weak and mentally worse than he was before. She didn’t have to see him to know how his nightmares plagued him- they haunted her too. They were fantastical in their graphics, elaborate and daunting. She could project her torment into her writings, her own sense of twisted terror and trepidation. She wondered what Poe’s thoughts would be if he ever read her works; would he be just as fascinated, terrorized and amazed as she was when she read his works?

Lucie couldn’t bear it any longer. She pushed the duvet off her and sat up. The windows were empty of his presence and the clouds behind them carried their gossips, barely sparing a glance at her as she changed into her gear. She fastened a rope and a grappling hook around her waist and drew the cloak around her. Then marched noiselessly into the night towards Gideon Lightwood’s house.

Once she reached the premises, she observed the windows were barely lit and darkness spilled through most of them. Lucie wondered which of them led to Jesse’s room. She was conscious of the panic that began to bubble within her. Jesse wasn’t a ghost anymore; he was human and breathing. She could not risk being found, especially not after what had happened to Eugenia and how Daisy had handled hers. She wasn’t panicking at getting caught; she couldn’t fathom what excuse she could provide for her unannounced arrival.

Jesse was sent to Basilias for three weeks following the utter destruction that Belial had ensued. Lucie had heard, er, eavesdropped on her parents and collected that Jesse Blackthorn was back in London only that evening and that Gideon had proposed to take him under his care for the while.

And there she was, under the window from which the barest of candlelight was spilling through, hoping it was Jesse’s room. She threw the hook and fixed it around the metal that held the pipelines in place and climbed. And to her utter horror, in the littlest of light, she could see the figures of two people entwined in a rather intimate embrace, their faces barely visible.

Lucie was never the best to reciprocate shock; her hands let go of the rope of their own accord, and she gasped as she fell backwards. She held onto the rope as quickly as she let go, but chafed her palms throughout her futile attempt at a safe landing. She tumbled to the ground with a thump and bit down her lip to prevent the scream that was beginning to erupt.

She whimpered as she sat up and looked at her hands, scratched and slightly bloodied. She tried to fish for her stele but could hear the sound of window panes opening. Lucie struggled to free the hook and it came off in an instant, much to her surprise. She covered herself just as Thomas’ voice floated with confusion in the air. “’Think that was a burglar?”

“No,” the other voice said. “I should think not.” Lucie smiled despite the raging pain in her limbs. She could see Alastair help Thomas secure the window and disappear behind them. The iratze was quick to draw; the pain vanished as swiftly as it had come, her hands looking as good as they ever were. She looked at the windows in desperation, her momentary sense of joy now gone. Where was Jesse Blackthorn?

She critically examined the windows. Jesse liked keeping his windows open; his room in Chiswick -when she had spied for necromantic books, a perfectly reasonable adventure- had revealed as much. There used to be plants around the sill and the room usually overlooked a scenic sight ‘ten times worth the painter’s imagination’, as Jesse had once claimed. She trudged through the backyard towards the other end of the house and looked for the one set of windows that would set her heart in a frenzy.

Lo and behold, there it was: two sets of them open as curtains balled close by one set of windows. She watched the cherry blossom sway its flowers to sleep, the wind mumbling a mellow lullaby to it. Her heart lurched; she was so close to him. She drew another rune of stealth at her throat and fastened the hook. She climbed up the rope nervously.

When she reached the window, she tapped at the pane and fixed her foot on the metal around the pipe. Jesse was next to the window in no time. It was a blurry few moments until he reeled back in shock and then come to his senses. Jesse guided her in gently, though Lucie knew better; the moment was gone before she knew, replaced by Jesse’s anger. With Jesse promptly reprimanding her for her impetuousness.

“You can’t possibly be here-” he thundered. But Lucie paid him no heed. She was smiling, her attention wholly captured by the beauty of him. He looked healthier than he was when he had left London. His face was less pale, though there were shadows under his eyes. He wasn’t as thin; there was flesh to him when she touched his shoulder in a daze. His words ceased when she held his scarred hand, in awe with the utter humanness of him. He didn’t look strong, not as strong in the sense of shadowhunters, but at least as strong as any human could be. He had been sick for his entire life, and then dead, but he was better in just three weeks and he would be better even more. Lucie was proud of him.

She stepped back, still lost and removed her hand from his. But he reached forward and held hers, tightening both his hands around hers and holding them close to his heart. “You could be ruined, Lucie. Why are you here?” he asked her softly.

She shook her head. “You look all right,” she said. “But I know you are not.”

He dropped his gaze to the floor just as he let her palm loose. Lucie only stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck comfortingly. She hugged him tight and heard his heart hammer, feeling the joy of his life tear at her heart. Jesse froze for a moment before he wrapped her in his embrace, burying his head in the nook of her shoulder. She stroked his hair, knowing the glint of sadness in his eyes very well. “I’ve missed you, Jesse,” she mumbled. “How are you?”

Jesse said nothing. They stayed in the embrace for Angel knows how long. Neither of them dreamed of pulling away. The breeze from his open windows swayed them in their song, whistling through the curtains and swooshing them out and away. The two of them were knit into one another, their embraces tight and safe and reassuring. As slow as the night, Lucie’s shoulder grew wet with Jesse’s tears, his shoulders shaking with the pent up agony and pain he bore voicelessly for so long. Lucie felt the overwhelming need to shut the windows and keep him close, cut him away and protect him from every thorn that would dare to come closer. His knees buckled away and he pulled her to the ground; Lucie didn’t mind the pain. She held him in silence, and when his sobs grew louder, she murmured gentle reassurances to him. She held him for hours, suddenly remembering the time Cordelia had held her for hours, preventing her from falling off the cliff. The urge to protect someone so fiercely could never be cultivated. It just came without a question and you protected them without a doubt. She patted his back, the young traces of his muscles reassuring her about his onward health. She cursed the universe for damning him for the sins of his parents.

At some point, she found herself murmuring a lullaby into his hair. Her eyes were thick with tears she hadn't shed when she’d heard that Jesse was gone without a goodbye. Four weeks, the first one having been taken away for questioning by the Clave and the rest at his stay in Alicante. She blubbered, her own sobs mixing with his as she thought of all the people she had lost, of the sacrifices Jesse had made and the pain he had endured. She cried of her mother’s and her brother’s agony when they were tortured by Belial. Of the people who had died and the chaos that each one of her friends had borne, of heartbreak and crumpled wishes. Jesse swayed her this time, letting her cry and complain on his shoulder.

The two of them were a mess. But they were there for each other.

When their sobs stopped, they still held one another. Lucie clutched at him for dear life and Jesse caressed her now unbound hair. “Don’t leave,” she mumbled as she pulled back, wiping the tears on his cheekbones. She sat up on her knees, pulling him closer, and pressed her lips to his burning forehead. Jesse tightened his arms around her waist and held her tight. “You are all right. And you will be all right,” she whispered and drew back, staring down into his eyes that were so open and vulnerable. Jesse reached for her hand in his and linked their fingers together, his fingers caressing the scars on her hand. Their gazes never left one another’s. They stared and stared until the moon shied away from the fierceness in their eyes. Their promise on the light with which they loved each other.

“I won’t,” Jesse promised. He kissed the back of her hand.

Yeah, um. Dunno why the world had to read this, but this was The (TM) first ever time I wrote after a really long time. Kinda like how this one turned out, the direction it took, though er, the writing...; thanks for reading, either way!

#meh #good idea or not?#idek lol #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #the last hours #tlh #mine*

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alipeeps · 3 years

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New tag game: Post pictures of your first ever (fictional/celeb) crush to the latest one and tag five others to continue the game

Thanks to @minmoyu for tagging me and ooof, are you sure you’re ready for this?!! :D I have been around/in fandom for a loooooong time and at first I thought, okay, no way I can list all my crushes, there have been SO many and we’ll be here all day but then as I started compiling a list I found I was having fun reminiscing and decided, what the heck, yeah, let’s do em all... or at least all I can remember! :D

There have absolutely for sure been other more minor crushes and passing fancies along the way, but these are the big ones that I remember (and that, in more recent years, I can track by going through my posted fanfics on AO3 and even *shudder* FFNET and seeing which shows I was into enough to want to write fic about the characters).

[Quick note: with rare exceptions, for actors I am listing them by the character they played rather than just the actor. Whilst there are actors that I like in multiple roles (and conversely, characters who on paper I would normally be into but are played by actors who do nothing for me, and hence the character generally does nothing for me either), for the most part it is the character I really have the crush on.]

I’m going to put this under a readmore cos it has gotten ridiculously long:

So... without further ado:

1. MORTEN HARKET from a-ha - OKay so, dating myself badly here but... I had the *biggest* crush on Morten Harket when I was a teenager. Pretty much the entirety of my side of the bedroom I shared with my sister was covered in posters of a-ha, and Morten in particular. I even had a heart-shaped Morten Harket pillow! :D I loved a-ha’s music (still do!) and I wanted to go see them in concert when I was 14 but my parents wouldn’t let me (*sob*). I did finally get to see them in concert in the early 2000s and they were BRILLIANT live (and Morten was still very very pretty)!

2. RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON as MACGYVER - MacGyver is the first tv character I remember being really into and having a crush on, to the extent that I would record episodes of the show off the tv (onto VHS tape - yes, I am *that* old!) so that I could rewatch them (especially the ones where he got hurt - yeah, I was a whumper even then! :D)

3. KEIFER SUTHERLAND - One of my rare exceptions. I think I first saw him in Lost Boys (and loved him in that film) but it was his role as Doc Scurlock in Young Guns that really made me fall for both the character and him. I definitely remember seeking out any and all films he was in and buying any magazine he was interviewed in (and knowing far more facts about him than was probably healthy! :D) and even drawing a fanart portrait of him. :)

4. KYLE MACLACHLAN as SPECIAL AGENT DALE COOPER - I remember hearing about Twin Peaks before it started airing in the UK and it sounded so different and interesting... I watched it from the very first episode and very quickly developed a crush on Coop.

5. BRENT SPINER as DATA - I think ST: TNG had been airing for a while before I stumbled across it but I quickly became hooked and Data was my favourite character right from the start. I definitely remember at one point buying an (unofficial) episode guide book so that I could look up which episodes were good Data-focused ones (especially ones where he got hurt! :D) so I could go out and buy the videos that had those episodes on (at the time the show was available to buy on VHS-tape with 2 episodes on each tape).

6. DAVID DUCHOVNY as FOX MULDER - Another show that I heard the buzz about and started watching right from the start and, like so many others, I immediately developed a crush on the snarky, enigmatic, troubled FBI agent with the weird name. The X-Files was the first show I ever tried writing (one, never-finished) fanfic for.

7. PAUL GROSS as BENTON FRASER - Man, Due South was such a good show! It was so quirky and clever and funny and Benton Fraser, with his huge heart and his serious demeanour and his gorgeous blue eyes, was just so darn attractive! He also got whumped a fair bit too! :D Due South was also the show that introduced me to the music of Sarah McLachlan (I was enough of a fan that I bought the show soundtrack on CD).

8. HUGH LAURIE as DR GREGORY HOUSE - This was a bit of an odd one for me because I had grown up knowing Hugh Laurie solely as a comedian/comic actor, known mostly for playing buffoons and genial idiots. And suddenly here he was with stubble, an American accent, and a limp, and he was hawt AF! :D It caused quite the feedback loop in my brain for a while which pretty much went “Wow, House is hot.... but it’s Hugh Laurie... but he’s hot... but it’s HUGH LAURIE!!1!”

I *loved* House (the first few seasons, at least) and oof a character with persistent pain (and a self-destructive streak a mile wide!) was a whumper’s dream. House was the first show for which I wrote - and published online - completed fanfics.

8. JOE FLANIGAN as JOHN SHEPPARD - Stargate Atlantis was my first proper online fandom, the first show I prolifically and repeatedly wrote fanfic for, and the first time I ever met in person an actor I was a big fan of (and while the show was still airing, to boot!). It was also my first introduction to the online community of whumpers! A bunch of us from the Shep Whump thread on Gateworld heard that Joe was going to be at a convention in London and we decided to book hotel rooms and meet up and go to the convention together and it was AWESOME! I can still remember seeing Joe *in person* for the first time and just,,,, struggling to believe he was actually here, in person, in front of me! He was super super lovely and humble too and took time to chat to everyone at the signing table and I clearly remember my brain just pretty much fritzing out during the photo session and being intensely aware of the sensation of Joe’s hand on my shoulder....

It was also super lovely to meet fellow fans, and online friends, in person for the first time and we had so much fun, and it kickstarted me going to lots of other conventions, including specific Stargate/SGA ones where I got to know lots of other lovely fans and online friends. I’ve met Joe about 4 or 5 times in total now and he’s been lovely every time.

9. PAUL BLACKTHORNE as HARRY DRESDEN - Gosh I loved the shortlived tv adaptation of The Dresden Files. I loved the fantasy aspect, the stories, the humour, and I especially loved Harry Dresden and how often he got whumped! :D

10. DAVID TENNANT as THE 10TH DOCTOR - I had watched the Christopher Ecclestone revival of Doctor Who and enjoyed it well enough but I can clearly remember watching David Tennant’s first episode as The Doctor - on Christmas Day, at my brother-in-law’s house - and being aware, as I watched it that... ooookay, yes, I’m in trouble here... I like him... I like him a lot... :D I mean, I’m sure the fact that he got whumped so thoroughly in his very first episode had nothing to do with how quickly I fell for him... right? :)

11. ALEX O’LAUGHLIN as MICK ST JOHN - Another show that ended far too soon and just as it was getting *seriously* good. But also a prime example of my point about having a crush on the character not the actor. I looooooved Alex as Mick St John... and yet in Hawaii 5.0 he pretty much does nothing for me (the character is too stoic and the whump often too unrealistically glossed over). Anyway, in Moonlight he was my favourite kind of character - angsty, brooding, dangerous AF when he needed to be... and essentially immortal so you could whump the heck out of him and he’d recover so you could whump him again! :D

12. SIMON BAKER as PATRICK JANE - There is so much to love about Patrick Jane... his smarts, his sass, his angst... and Simon is a rare “against type” blonde crush for me (you may have noticed by now that most of my crushes follow a similar physical aesthetic - tall, slim/wiry, and dark-haired) and again here I think my crush is almost all to do with the character rather than the actor.

12. BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH as SHERLOCK HOLMES - I’m almost ashamed to admit it, given the clusterfuck that both the show and its fandom became, but in the earlier seasons I had quite the crush on Benedict’s Sherlock (and okay, a little bit on Benedict himself - I did definitely enjoy some of his other roles too). It helps that I was already a huge fan of the Sherlock Holmes character (I’ve read all the stories and novels multiple times and was a big fan of the Granada adaptation starring Jeremy Brett - whose Holmes would definitely count as one of my more minor/passing crushes) already. Benedict is another crush that I have met in person, at a (actually, the first!) Sherlock convention and he was lovely in person - very genuine, very articulate and thoughtful.

13. TOM MISON as ICHABOD CRANE - I was excited for Sleepy Hollow as soon as I heard about it and I was SUCH a fan for the first couple of seasons (before TPTB completely destroyed it and it inevitably got cancelled (I didn’t even watch the last season and a half)) and Tom’s Ichabod (and his amazing chemistry with Nicole’s Abbie) was a large part of why. I also quickly became a big fan of Tom himself as he came across as so witty and self-deprecating and *fun* in all the behind the scenes/convention clips etc. I was lucky enough to also meet Tom at a convention and he genuinely is that witty and charming and lovely.

14. TOM WISDOM as ARCHANGEL MICHAEL - I think Dominion was possibly the first show that I got sucked into by seeing whumpy gifsets on tumblr! :D It was such a great show and also to date the most immersive, welcoming, cast-and-crew-interactive fandom I have ever been in. The cast and crew regularly live-tweeted the episodes, and interacted with fans on Twitter, and it was SO much fun. And Tom’s Michael was my favourite character right from the start - seemingly aloof but so much going on under the surface... and some really nice whump, especially in season 2! I was heartbroken when it was cancelled after only 2 seasons (and just as the plot was getting *really* interesting).

15. OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN as LUCAS - I was hooked on Emerald City right from the first episode. It was visually stunning, so atmospheric, and really intruiging. I love love loved Adria Arjona’s Dorothy (ngl, I had a bit of a crush on her too) and she and Lucas together were just... *chef’s kiss*. I mean... what an introduction to a character... she finds him crucified, bleeding, his wrists tied with barbed wire, and amnesiac.... and the whump only gets better and better from there on in! Like the entire first two episodes are just... Lucas whump! :D And his devotion to her... Emerald City was honestly the first show where I really got into a ship. I was *invested* in Dorcas, dammit! Aaaand sadly another excellent show that never made it past its first season.

16. JASON RALPH as QUENTIN COLDWATER - Another show that I watched right from the start, was heavily invested in.... and that the writers absolutely tanked and destroyed in later seasons. *cries* Quentin was such a brilliant viewpoint character for the show and I loved his awkwardness, and his angst, and his enthusiasm, and his adorable floppy hair... and how often he got whumped!

17. COLIN MORGAN - I fell for Colin in Merlin (which I stumbled upon late, long after it had finished airing, and hence was able to binge-watch the entire 5 seasons!) and liked him enough to seek out his other works, such as The Fall, and Humans, and The Living and the Dead, and he was brilliant (and very pretty) in all of them... and his characters also seem to get whumped quite a lot! :D

18. MATT LANTER as WYATT LOGAN - Wyatt was another of my favourite archetypes... absolutely badass and competent... but also tortured and angsty and capable of intense devotion. Another show that I watched because of whumpy gifs on tumblr and the second ever show where I actually got invested in a ship - Lyatt all the way, baby!! :D - aaaaaand yet another show cancelled before its time.

19. NOCTIS LUCIS CAELUM from FINAL FANTASY XV - my very first video game crush! I was recommended to play FFXV by fellow whumpers on the whumpshire discord because it was whumpy... and they were not wrong and I loved the game and I absolutely adored Noctis. FFXV is one of very very VERY few video games that I have actually played right through to the end. And possibly the only video game that has ever affected me to such an extent... I became so invested in the characters and their world and I actually found the last couple of chapters really hard to play because it was actually upsetting me emotionally. I had to take a break for a couple of weeks before I could go back and finish it!

20. CONNOR from DETROIT BECOME HUMAN - and from there I jumped straight into another video game crush! DBH was another game recommended to me for its whump potential and I, and many others, immediately fell in love with the quirky, sassy, self-sacrificing (if you play the game right!) “android sent by Cyberlife”. The game itself is really good too... although, I have tried to play through all the different endings to the story but have never yet managed to make myself play the machine Connor storyline.... I want to complete all the story branches... but I also just want Hank and Connor to be friends and to be happy! :D

21. ZHU YILONG - Ahhh... the beginning of the asian drama arc of my fandom life! I first came across Zhu Yilong after getting sucked into watching Guardian because of pretty (and whumpy) gifs on tumblr... and I’ve never looked back. He is one of the rare entries where I am pretty much guaranteed to like him in pretty much anything he does and my crush extends beyond Shen Wei, or his other characters, and into reblogging his fashion shoot photos, and keeping up with news of his work in general. He’s just... so darn pretty! And also so... blur! :D And the behind the scenes stuff and interviews of him with Bai Yu, during the Guardian era, just made me fall for him all the more. He’s also ridiculously talented - not only a fantastic actor, but a really good singer (I love his singing voice), he plays guitar and piano, and he can paint too!!

He’s also pretty much what made me start learning Chinese... because after Guardian I went seeking his other dramas to watch... only to find that many of them are only partially, or not at all, subbed. So I thought... why not try learning Chinese and then I’ll be able to watch his other shows? :D

21. JI CHANG WOOK - My first kdrama crush, and what a good one to start with! Healer was the first drama I ever watched and can you blame me for falling for JCW... especially when I followed up Healer with The K2?! I’ve liked him in pretty much everything I’ve watched him in. Although I do wish he would go back to doing more action-based shows as he is sooo good at them... but he seems to prefer the romcom genre these days, which is something I am nottt always a fan of tbh.

22. JAKE HSU as MENG SHAO FEI - Yet another show that I got sucked into by tumblr - and also one with a great, fun fandom through which I met lots of lovely people who I still follow/am mutuals with to this day. I just *adored* Jake’s character in History and I also loved the ship - Tang Fan and Meng Shaofei were awesome and adorable together and I was totally invested in both the ship and the gangster/cop/what happened years ago story happening alongside the ship. And Jake is just all kinds of cute.

23. XIAO ZHAN - Aaaand we are pretty much up to current day now... where The Untamed took over my life in the summer of 2019 and has yet to let me go. Xiao Zhan is another disgustingly talented human being - a fantastic singer and a really good actor, and also an artist - and he also just comes across as a genuinely sweet and charming person, and a very thoughful and earnest one too. And lbr he is ridiculously pretty, and his smile is just pure sunshine.

24. LEE DONG WOOK as LEE YEON - The most recent entry to the charts.... a Korean actor I was aware of but whose work I hadn’t watched and whose looks didn’t particularly seem to grab me... until I watched Tale of the Nine Tailed and fell head over heels for Lee Yeon (and daaayum does red hair suit LDW!!) and very quickly began to find LDW’s looks very appealing (and oh my, does Lee Yeon whump well!!). And yes, I have now started watching Goblin. :D

Phew! Aaaand we are done! I’ll admit, I did think of a few more as I was compiling this list but I decided to categorise them as more “minor” crushes and not include them... otherwise we really could be here all day!!

I’m going to tag: @sarah-yyy, @arlothia, @howdydowdy, @thepromiseweheldforlife and @the-wandering-whumper!

#meme #fandom #crushes

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