#broke it off when she married and then shacked up again when her husband died | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wthcew · 3 years

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JayTim, flirting, falling in love and cuddles and JJ Tim who gor adopted by Harley and Ivy pretty please??

Sweetie, you just jumped on my train of JJ fics, I hope you don't mind that I added a little bit of smut

I'm so sorry it took me that long to write it, I hope you like it!

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30 days

_____________________________________________

The first time he heard about it he was under the ground. He felt like he was choking, his helmet somewhere unknown and with it his communication with Oracle. He isn't talking to B (not after he chose the fucking Joker over him) but he does help Nightwing sometimes, and oh, did he wished right now that he would have never let Dick in his safehouse.

Nightwing and Red Hood were about to bust a drag ring, but the thing is, it was an ambush, so now they're both under ground, Hood's leg impaled to the ground by an iron pillar from one of the walls that exploded and that they're buried under, his helmet in an unknown place and 'wing trying to call for help.

Jason tried to slow his breath but being under ground is bringing back bad memories (He can't breathe, he's locked, and all he want right now is his dad-) of being six feet under and he's hysterical- because everything is hurting and broken and half his face are burned and he can't breathe so please, please he just want his dad, "please dad come save me"-

He's so gone into his mind, letting his panic control him that he's flinching away when Dick touching his shoulder, but it's pulling him out of his head (and just when did the tears started to spill out of his eyes?), and Dick is looking at him, the whites lenses of his domino mask are gone and instead Jason's getting those blue eyes that are full with concern.

"It's okay Jay" Dick smiled at him, a small smile that somehow made Jason believe that it's okay. "B and baby bat are on their way right now," Dick's hand found Jason's and he squeezed it in reassuring. Jason returned the squeeze. "We will be fine"

...

"Did someone ever told you about the kid who almost killed Joker?" Dick asked after couple minutes of silence, when Jason's breath is under control and he isn't so much as hysterical as he was couple of minutes before.

Jay turned his head to Dick, "No" his voice was hoarse, too hoarse for his own ears but Dick didn't seems to mind, he just nodded his head and smiled softly at him.

"He was thirteen years old back then, Joker took him, when Babs still was Batgirl" And at that moment Dick's comn beeped and after five minutes they were out of the ground, Bruce and Damian next to Dick, checking if he's fine while Jason took his helmet, the hole in his leg isn't that bad and when Dick looking at him the Red Hood already swing away.

_____________________________________________

The second time he heard about it was because he wanted to, he was curious and he wanted to know what happened to the kid, what made a thirteen years old kid almost kill the Joker.

So, he was on his couch, his leg bandaged and a cup of hot tea on the coffe table, his laptop open and working and the reading lamp's orange light made his shadow look like some villain from kids cartoon.

It's hard to find anything about it but he is (A bat) Red Hood, if he wants to he'll find out what happened back then. And he want to.

So Jason cracked his fingers and started to work.

The seconds became to minutes that became to hours of work and clicking on his keyboard, it's hard to find anything because apparently this whole story is shushed and all Jason gathered until now came from a video of the news report and all they said there was that Joker broke out of Arkham and decided he wanted a son, kidnapped some unlucky kid and deleted the boy's personality with electrical shocks until he becamed Joker Junior, and then he kept torturing the kid until the Batman and Batgirl found the kid, broken minded and holding a gun to Joker's head.

It was quite the story, but Jason didn't know what happened later, who the kid was or what happened to him.

But he will, just to know if the kid's okay. Or to ask why he hadn't pulled the trigger..

So he kept digging, looking for anything that may conect to the story. And that's how Jason found himself reading article about Jack and Jent Drake disowning their only child Tim Drake. The kid was only thirteen back then, and all he took before he took off from the face of earth was a stuffed Kola and a camra.

And it may be his curiosity about this because he don't remember the kid and apparently they were neighbors or the JJ thing but he knows that he'll find Tim Drake.

_____________________________________________

Jent Drake died two years after she disowned Tim in a car crash, her husband got depressed and started looking for Tim to reown him but then he met Dana Winters.

There was some love story there that Jason wasn't really that interested in reading but in the end they married and left Gotham, never coming back. And the most annoying thing is, that Tim was never found.

But he did found out that there was some kid that helped Harley and Ivy sometimes, he had a faded red hoodie and faded green jeans.

The hoodie's hat always hiding his face and from the little Jason saw, his skin was more white than normal human skin.

Jason couldn't find a lot of photos of the kid but he did find one of Harley hugging the kid.

Jason looked at the photo, it was fuve years old, when Tim desperate and all the JJ thing happened. The way he held himself was familiar to Jason, something deep in his mind, memories that he couldn't remember, but it was there, and Jason knows that this Tim kid is JJ who is also somehow Harley's kid.

_____________________________________________

"I need your help"

"Oh that's nice, what aby 'hey Babs, how was your day? Did Dick pissed you off and going to sleep on the couch tonight? Can you please help me with this thing?'"

Jason smiled, shifting the phone that was pressed against his ear "What did Dick did?"

"He was a dick"

"How was your day?"

"What did you wanted help with Jay?"

"Clown boy"

"Hmm?"

"Joker Junior"

A sharp breath "What about him?"

"You know who he is?"

"We found him after he took a dip in the acid, and he was dressed like the Joker, too much make up, green hair, purple suit, couldn't recognise him"

"But you know don't you?"

"Batman doesn't know"

"Well you're Oracle not Batman. It's simple question O, you know? Yes or no?"

"I know"

"I think I know too"

"Who do you think it is?"

"Tim Drake"

"..Yes it's him"

"Why didn't you told Bruce?

"He's a good kid"

"He's with Harley now"

"Tim isn't bad"

"Babs, if he's Joker Junior and he's with Harley he can't be that good"

"Jay, Harley and Ivy gave me the tip to find him and Harley took him in after his parents disowned him, he may be stilling sometimes or helping Harley and Ivy but he is good"

"You kept tabs on him?"

"He's smart, he may have lost a lot of his memories because of the Joker and he is crazy but he have support"

"Does Bruce know you're helping hiding him?"

"No, and he wouldn't. Not until Tim decided that it's fine"

"You're in contact?"

"We're just talking, I'm sending him puzels and riddles and it's helping him keep clean mind"

"Can I talk to him?"

"I can't tell you where he is but I also can't stop you from doing this"

"Thank you Babs"

"Not a problem Jaybird"

_____________________________________________

It was a week later that Jason walked into a small unnoticed coffee shop.

The design of the place gave him a feeling of happiness, like it was some kind of home.

He looked through everyone there, couple next to the window, three old ladies sitting in a table for four, chatting and laughing, couple of collage students sitting with something to eat and something warm to drink and typing on their laptops, and on the farthest side of the coffee shop, in a table for two, sat a teen, his hands paler than any human skin, his long hair hiding his face, a coffee cup in front of him and his legs shacking.

"Hello! Can I help you?" A cheerful voice called from the cashier desk, he put on a smile on his face and turned to see a black haired girl, with a big smile on her face.

"Yeah, do you have Eral Gray?"

"We do! Anything else with this?"

"No, thank you"

"Okay, just a minute"

When he got his cup he paid the girl murmuring a "Thank you" and walking to Tim.

When he sat down in front of the teen, icy blue eyes looked at his face, and his breath hitched when he saw the little cuts on at each end of his mouth, creating a smile.

"Hey" Jason said, smiling at Tim.

"Hey.." Tim's voice almost didn't reached his ears and Jason's smile grew wider when Tim smiled at him. A shy little amazing smile.

"I'm Jason"

"T-Tim"

"Nice to meet you"

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted tea"

"You aren't scared?" Tim's eyes looked a bit insane when he said the last word, his smile grew wider and he leaned closer to the table. The cuts on his face and his pale skin made him look like Joker but there was also something else there, something in his eyes that said 'Pleas don't be scared' and Jason swallowed and forced his nerves to calm down.

"No, you actually seems nice"

Tim blinked once.

Twice.

And then his smile became nicer, less dangerous and more shy. He relaxed and took a sip from his coffee.

Jason smiled, sipping from his own cup while making a note in his head to be careful with this one.

They drank a couple more cups together, chatting about nothing in particular and when Tim excused himself and left, Jason found a paper next to the cup.

He opened it because of his dammed curiosity and bis breath hitched.

'Ha ha ha'

_____________________________________________

It was in the middle of the night, the streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

His parents just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But sometimes he wonders if he'll ever be good enough for them to stay. If he'll ever be good enough so his mother wouldn't need to hiss his name through clench teeth and his father to hit him.

Maybe he would never be good enough..

In those nights when he wonders about it, he goes to a walk. It's always makes him calm and shuts his mind down. It's leaving him with the feeling of wholenesses, like some how the wind that hit his body in cold sharp hit is welcoming, or the cold of the night is like his stuffed Kola -the one he got from Bruce Wayne In a gala that his parents hosted when he was four and since then he hides it from his parents and hugging it when he need comfort- or like the silence out here is better than the silence inside the empty house.

And maybe, just maybe hr would see his heros.

And as Tim kept walking he could barely hear this cursed laugh, followed by the soft like song-

Mary had a little lamb

Little lamb, little lamb

Mary had a little lamb...

"Cutie pie?" His mama's voice rang, it was muffled but it was still there. "I'm hearing laughing, it's a good joke?"

A knock on his door "Sweetheart?" His laugh grew and his eyes burned, tears dropping from his eyes.

"Timmy?"

He hugged his legs to his chest, laughing and crying and this song is stuck in his head and he can't stop it and-

"Mary had a little lamb"

Mama's hands are around him, hugging him and petting his hair "Shhh shh shh, everything's fine baby, I'm here"

He can't breathe and the song is on full volume in his head but mama's here and mama is safety, she's safety. He's safe. Safe

_____________________________________________

"What the hell were you thinking?" Oracle's voice rang through the comn in his helmet.

"You need to be more specific than that O"

"Tim blocked me, Selina is mad at Bruce because one of his kids hurt her niece, Harley and Tim are nowhere to be found and Selina and Ivy are planning something"

"I didn't hurt Tim and I don't know why you told ma all the other stuff"

"Hood, Tim's smart, maybe too much smart but his mind is broken, he's crazy and genius"

"Okay and..?"

"He wants to go -and I’m quoting him- Boom he always wanted everyone to know that he's Harley's kid, and I always made him take more time, think about it more the fact that he blocked me means that I can't tell him to sit back anymore"

"You can remove it though"

"I did, and he just throw his phone away"

"So I broke him?"

"No, Joker broke him you just set him off"

"Shit"

"Yes. Shit"

_____________________________________________

"Wohhooo" Was shout out to the sky as Tim set in shopping cart, Harley -in her rollerblades- holding the handles of the cart, and they're both 'driving' down a road, laughing.

The air hit Tim's face in the best way he could have ever imagined and he laughed so hard that his cheedk burned, and maybe he ripped his stiches oncr again today but he dosen't care.

He is happy. So, so happy, like he was with this hot guy in the coffee shop, before his meltdown.

But right now, right now it's all this.

His mama and him, having fun, his mom and aunty kitty somewhere doing her own thing and everything's okay.

He laughed again as they started to speed up, the wind throwing his hair in any direction possible.

After a few minutes they cane to a stop, his mama's smile is so loving and he hopes that his smile is loving as well.

"Come on sweetie, let's do it" Harley smiled as she gave him the lighter, he jumped out of the cart and lit the lighter, his eyes sparking as the fire started spreading.

Tim and Harley walked away because they're crazy not stupid.

There faces lit up as the fireworks blew and flew to the sky.

Harley hugged him from behind and he relaxed into his mama's touch, watching the fireworks becoming to words that are shining over Gotham's sky.

30 days

_____________________________________________

"Hey Hoodie" A cheerful voice called from behind him.

Red Hood turned around, a gun in his hand just to be met with Tim's lovely smile.

"Chill, chill" The teen said, holding his hands up "I'm not going to hurt you"

"What do you want?" Hood asked, lowering his gun.

"We have never met have we?" Tim said, his smile calm

"I don't think so"

"No, but I did met Robin"

"So you met the Demon"

Tim frowned "No. The second one."

"Don't know him"

"Red Hood can't meet Robin II"

"And why's that?"

"Robin II's dead, dad killed him" Tim shock his head "I don't like dad, I liked Robin II and dad did it because it's funny. It's not!"

Tim looked so frustrated, his eyes big and he's looking at Jason like he hope that he would understand that and, something in Jason change, his face are softer under the helmet and-

"Okay Tim, I know you aren't the Joker."

"I didn't met *you* but we did met, I know Robin and I know Jason and now I know Red Hood?"

"You know who I am"

"No, no no no!" Tim looked him straight in the eyes, like he could see his face behind the helmet "You're Red Hood now, you were Robin and you always were Jason but now you Red Hood, I don't know Red Hood!"

"Okay, okay, relax, you don't know Red Hood, that's fine"

"I need to know Red Hood"

"Why?"

"Because I need Red Hood to help me"

"You need help?"

"Yes"

"Okay, but why Red Hood?"

"Because.. Ummm because- Because of Dad! I need Red Hood to help me kill dad"

To kill.. the Joker.

To kill the Joker.

The Joker dead.

'Yes'

"I would help you, Red Hood and Jason, okay?"

Tim nodded "Yeah, okay."

The sky started to glow and they both looked up, looking at fireworks that formed

29 days

_____________________________________________

It was so logical and simple that Jason almost laugh.

He sat next to Tim in some small safehouse, looking at Tim up and down as he was solving Sudoku.

They're waiting for the others to decide exactly who will go in and kill this son of a bitch and aho will make sure that everyone else will be present in that day.

They are waiting for Tim's small family, and Jason smiled at the thought of this family, he once had one and then he died and he was replaced by Stephanie Brown who is now Batgirl so they're fine now. But he doesn't have this family now, all he have are some blurred memories.

Tim let out a little "Yay" with a cute, small giggle that made Jason smile.

"Hey!" Tim suddenly said, looking at Jason with big eyes, Jason looked around him, trying to find something that would make Tim look panoco "What-"

"Are you hurt?" Tim's voice was soft and caring and Jasom heart might have skipped a beat, "No?"

"Than why do you have split lip and bruise on your jaw?"

"I've got into a fight, it's not serious" But Tim was there in seconds, his worry eyes looking at Jason's jaw and just wow- Jason swallowed the lump in his throat when Tim's slender finger touched his lip and-

"I've the best thing to help!" Tim pulled away and his finger caressed Jason's lip in a way that made Jason hold his breath.

And in the next moment Tim putted a chocolate bar in his hand, smiling at him "It help!" He said and Jason huffed a laugh, mentally shacking his head.

"Thanks Timmy" Jason said an smile on his face, opening the chocolate and cutting a line.

It was milk chocolate with pop candy and it was amazing, Jason hummed as he ate it, looking at Tim solving a new sudoku.

After the meeting (if it even can be called that) Jason took the rest of the chocolate bar, just to have something sweet after patrol tonight.

_____________________________________________

Jason stripped from his Red Hood gear, stretching his hands out and poping his back.

He took a quick shower and pulled on a sweat pants and grey hoodie from the deep of his closest 'Maybe it's time to do the laundry'.

Jason smiled as the sky were lit in 25 Days and turned the lamp off.

His lip tickled as some kind of reminder that Tim touched him there, he looked so worried and that just warmed Jason's heart.

And that amazing chocolate- maybe he will have to get hurt more just to have it.

He closed hid eyes, ready to fall asleep and then it hit him-

Oh.

Oh shit.

He- he have a crush.

_____________________________________________

The sun was in the middle of the sky when Jason woke up, blinking into the darkness because the blinds are close.

He groaned as he stretched his body, still in the bed under the warmth of the fluffy blanket. The sleepiness still has her claws clutching on him and made Jason wonder why the hell his bed isn't as comfy whenever he's trying to sleep but is when he tries to wake up.

He almost fell asleep again, but the *Bam! Bam! Bam!* on his door made him jolt up from the bed, the gun that he hides between the mattress and the bed in his hand, walking to the living room without making a sound, looking through the peep hole.

He huffed in relief, opening the door looking at Dick who smiled at him. "You woke me up you asshole"

"Sorry little wing" But Dick didn't sounded sorry at all and that just made him groan.

Jason followed Dick to the kitchen after Dick let himself in, the door closing behind them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't visit my little brother?"

"Not your brother" Jason turned around to the pantry to take out a tea bag just when Dick flinched from the words as if they're physically harming him.

"You're my brother, even if you don't see it like that"

"Dick."

"No! You're my brother, I count you as my brother" Dick snap and Jason would lie if he said that that didn't touched his heart, even if it's not true because in the end Dick have his new little brother and also a sister and it's really is fine that Jason isn't part of his family. It is.

So he didn't reply to it, just let Dick think what he wants to. "Do you want to tell me why you actually came or what?" He asked as he started to boil water.

"I wanted to talk to you"

"About?"

"You said you'd this case, how's it going?"

Jason took the teapot off the gas, pouring the hot water to his glass, "I didn't told anyone that I've a case"

"Well no but Babs told me"

"Babs don't know, and she would have asked if she wanted to know" Jason took a sip from his cup and turned around to glare at the older man "What it really is about?"

"Bruce saw you with Harley and Ivy and their kid and he wants to know what you all doing"

Jason saw red for a moment and them took a calming breath, a long sip from his tea and walked his way toward the island, putting his mug down and glaring at his so called brother.

"So you're here on a mission?" His voice was cold and full with venom.

"N-no!"

Jason raised an eyebrow "You just said it"

"I don't care what B wanted, I came for my brother"

"Damian isn't here"

"Jason!"

"What? You want me to say that you didn't came because Bruce said something on me? You don't want to know what I'm doing with Harley, Ivy and their kid? Ah? That's what you're telling me?"

"I-"

"Ha! And you just said we're brothers!"

"We are Jason"

"No! You have your own little family, I'm not part of it, never was!"

"You are! You always were and you always will be!"

And at that moment Jason saw green, throwing his mug down on the island, the shatterd flew everywhere and the hot water started to drip down to the floor.

And as a last resort Dick yelled "TIM DRAKE!"

It made Jason blink, and look at Dick, "What did you just said?"

"Tim Drake, it's this boy Joker kidnapped, Harley and Ivy's kid"

"How do you know this?"

"Well, family of detectives and all"

"What do you want?"

"Is he threating you?"

"What? No!"

"Jay, you can tell me the truth"

"Oh I can?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Okay so fuck off"

"Wh-what?"

"The truth is that I want you to fuck off and don't ever come back. Bye."

"..Jay.."

"I'll throw you out of the window"

"Okay, okay. But.."

"Go!" _____________________________________________

Tim sat on an air conditioner motor that was on the roof of a building, his legs tangling down, one shoe red with zigzag lines on it and the other one yellow with glitters. His pants in a fading green colour and a black-blue t-shirt. And Jason just looked, glad that his helmet hiding his face as a stupid smile crossed his face.

"Hoodie hood!" Tim's cheerful voice made Jason's smile wider, and Tim pushed himself of the air conditioner motor, when his feet touched the roof his yellow shoe started to sparkle with light, like little kids shoes.

"Hey clown kid" Tim smiled, something sweet and beautiful that made butterflies fly in Jason's belly.

"I don't like this helmet today" Tim said, his hands touching lightly at the sides of the red helmet.

"And why's that?"

"I can't see your hair. I love your hair!"

Jason smiled, Tim was just... just.

"Thanks baby clown, I love your hair too"

"Baby clown?"

"Yup"

"I like it"

"Good"

Tim took Jason's hand in his and started walking them to the air conditioner motor.

They both sat down, Tim's hands now in his lap and Jason opened his helmet, setting it next to him.

Tim looked at him, his blue icy eyes glinted and a small smile on his face. Jason looked right back at him, the blue-green eyes looking like some amazing place that kids are being told about in fairy tales.

Jason don't know who moved first, or what exactly happened. All he knows is that Tim is sitting in his lap, Tim's hands in his hair and Jason hugging him close. There mouths pressing against each other's. Tim's mouth have this amazing chocolate taste, a hint of coffee and Tim.

In the dark sky above of them, the fireworks draw the 18 days.

_____________________________________________

Jason is happy. Like really truly happy. He couldn't stop smiling this stupid love sick smile since the kiss.

He met Tim every patrol and those small kiss were the best, 10/10 would definitely do again.

Tim's cute and smart and he seems to really like Jason which is amazing because Jason really like him too.

None of the Bats came to annoy him, and everything is just amazing. For once in his life everything is just good.

His grapple gun shot to the next building and the cold wind never felt better. As Red Hood's boots hit the roof a "Hey there, love bird" greeted him.

"Cat," He called back, doing a small '*hi*' with his hand "'sup?"

"We need to talk"

"About?"

"Tim"

Jason sat next to her, his legs tangling down from the roof, "You here to give me the talk?"

"Not the talk you think about, I'll that to his moms"

"Then what talk?"

"Are you serious with him?"

"For now.. for now yes" he said with a bit hesitation.

Selina nodded "That's good for me"

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome sweetie, anyway you nrrd to be careful with Timmy"

"I know that, I wasn't born yesterday Cat"

She huffed a laugh, "Oh I know that sweetie, but you still need to know about Tim's past"

"Isn't he supposed to tell me about it? In his own time?"

"He will, I'm going to tell you only things that he won't because it's a trigger for him"

"The torture?"

"Yes, the torture, and what lead to his kidnapping, and it'll give you an idea yo what his parents were like"

Jason looked at her in the eyes, seriousness burns in them. "Okay, let's hear the story" _____________________________________________

His parents left again, it has been hours since the screaming stopped, his cheeks were wet from tears and his eyes red.

He was hiding in the closet, his hands holding his stuffed Kola close, his left arm is numb except for the cut on it, but it's a small cut and he deserved it. He isn't supposed to talk back to his father.

The dry blood on his arm itched and he needs to treat the cut, but he don't want to move. The closest is a safe place because mother and father can't get in.

New tears slipping down his face and he hugs the Kola tighter.

_____________________________________________

When Tim woke up his neck hurt and his left arm felt like a million fire ants stung her.

He opened the closest door, stumbling out of there holding the Kola in one hand, dropping it on his bed and walking to the bathroom, pulling the first aid kit from under the sink, treating his wound with a hiss of pain.

A quick glance out of the window and he knows it's in the middle of the night, and his parents were supposed to stay home for more couple of days but once again they just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But he doesn't have something to do now, and his arm's fine, he can go out and see Batman, and maybe Robin too. Though Robin isn't around a lot now, maybe something happened... _____________________________________________

The streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

The cold wind hit him merciless, but it just made him smile, he loves the winter. It always made him feel better with himself.

His camera clutched in his hands, his black stocking cap falling on his eyes every couple of minutes, and yes it may be annoying but it's also letting him something to do, because tonight he can't find Batman...

What the hour anyway? Maybe he's late and Batman's back in the cave...

And then he could hear it, some quiet voice singing.. Maybe a kid.. What if the kid need help?

"Hello?' he called out, moving closer to the voice, he can hear the words now.

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

He cried out, pain strobes through all hid body, tears on his face and blood run down his chine and neck

This psycho laugh making him shiver and try to run away. This hateful song in the background..

And this voice.. "Come on Little Lamb, be a good son for little old me, and tell me. What's. Your. Name?"

"T-Tim"

He screamed as he got electriced again. _____________________________________________

He is shacking, scared out of his mind, tears rolling down his face. And it doesn't stop.

He can barely breathe, the electrical shock isn't stopping. And Tim is honest to God scared.

He don't know what's next to come, he can't actually believe it's happening and everything- everything hurt.

He can feel himself leaving his body, his heart- _____________________________________________

He woke up, everything is hurting again and the fucking Joker is looking at him, this psychotic smile on his face-

"Welcome back my Little Lamb"

-And this horrible song again

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

"What's your name?"

"Tim!" _____________________________________________

"What's. Your. Name?"

"Ti-" _____________________________________________

"Your name?"

He don't even* know *anymore, and it's really frustrating... _____________________________________________

He is laughing. A manic good laugh. Happy laugh.

He's happy because he remembers who he is and it's funny- why did he forgot anyway?

"What's your name?"

"JJ!" _____________________________________________

He laughed as his dad cut his face open do he'll always smile. He laughed as dad throw him to the acid. He laughed as dad painted his hair.

He laughed and he laughed, and laughed and laughed-

But it's not funny anymore- dad isn't here and his hair is black... JJ scowled at the mirror, dad don't like his hair black. He like green. Yes, green hair and purple suit, and red- red, red, red blood. And it's funny- everything funny so hr laughs, but the mirror- The shattered glass flew everywhere and it's so funny that he can't stop laughing-

"Timothy!" Mother's standing by the door, she looks horrified.. it's not funny anymore- it's not-

He can't breathe, he stumbles backwards, tears rolling down his face and he. Can't. Stop. Laughing. _____________________________________________

One night he heard his mother and father talking. It's not fine, but what is fine anymore? He's finally Tim but he's also JJ and it's so confusing.

"I can't look at him anymore Jack, he is pathetic!"

"I know Janet, don't worry"

Tim chokes a whimper. _____________________________________________

The next week Ivy and Harley found Tim trying to drown himself and took him in... _____________________________________________

Jason took in a deep breath, his eyes wet and his heart ache for his little clown.

"It's..."

Catwoman gave him a small smile, "A lot? I know. Those are once of the memories Tim still have"

"I'm- I can't even-" Cat smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

The words 13 Days shined in the sky above them.

_____________________________________________

"Hood" Oracle's voice filled his helmet.

"O, how many times do I need to ask you not to hack my helmet?"

Oracle completely ignored him "How's Tim been?"

Jason swallow, he forgot that Babs is actually one of those people who really care about Tim (and him. Because Babs amazing).

"He's been good, happy" Just like Jason. It's like they feel the same thing. He can see Babs smile in his mind at that, like something changed in the weather just because of what he said, and it pulled a smile in his face.

"That's good, how are you?"

"Same as Tim"

And now he can hear her smile when she talks "I'm happy to hear that."

"How are you O? Does Dick head annoying you? 'cuz I can beat him if you need"

O snorted, "Two days sleeping on the sofa and he'll be begging for my forgiveness"

Jason laughed. And they kept talking about nothing for two more minutes, before Babe had to go.

And that's when Jason shot his grapple to another roof and went flying in the sky, the feeling of happiness all over his body.

But it all stopped when hr heard it.

It came straight out of his nightmares, something from his deepest fears.

This manic laugh. Joker's laugh.

And no just no. Thete's no way this stupid fucker got out again.

He dropped to the ground with a thud sound, looking for the fucker but instead seeing a group of teenagers, kicking someone on the ground.. someone who couldn't stop laughing like the Joker and his heart stopped beating for a second when he realised who it is.

A shot noise ripped through the air and the teens stopped, looking back at the red hood holding a gun at one of them.

All he needed to do wad to say "Go. Away" and the teens ran away, leaving Tim on the ground, hugging his legs to his chest, blood and tears mixed together on his face, and he couldn't breathe because the laughing wouldn't stop.

Jason hurried to him, helping him to sit up and uncurl himself, unable to look over Tim's face since he wouldn't let him.

"Tim, sweetie, my baby clown," Jason kissed his cheek, hugging him close to him "It's me, remember? Red Hood"

And at that Tim's head moved, looking up at him. Eyes full of tears and his face twitched in this manic smile, blood dripping down from the now open cuts in his chicks to his chin.

"Timmy babe, can you hear me?" He received a small and hesitate nod that he took as yes.

"Can you give me your hands?" He asked, showing Tim his gloved hands. The smaller man put his hands in his, feeling the fabric.

Tim relaxed, his eyes fixed on the red helmet, the tears stopped rolling down his face.

The laughing quiet down a bit, but still were there.

"You remember me, right? We are friends, hell I'm hoping even more than friends"

Tim nodded, but Jason wasn't sure what he was agreeing with so he just kept talking.

"We have this amazing plan, because you are my little smarty boy right?"

Tim could take in a breath and that was good, he wasn't laughing anymore but he also didn't talk exactly, just watched Jason and every couple of seconds squeezed one of his hands (never the both of them together for some reason).

"Hell I even kissed you that night and it was the greatest thing in the whole world baby clown"

"No." Tim's tiny voice waved on the air.

"Hah?" If Tim didn't like Jason like that... It would be ok, he will be heart breaked for a few days but he would be fine at the end... Somehow.

"I kissed you" Tim said, looking at him with this witty little smile that Jason grew to love so much.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah" a small smile tug on Jason's lips, and their lips met. It was amazing just like the first time they kissed, and it sent sparkles down Jason's body.

And after a minute he let go, both of them taking deep breath.

"Come on baby clown, let's go to my home"

Tim took his hand and he pulled him up, hugging the smaller man.

The words 7 Days exploded in the sky exactly when they reached Jason's apartment.

_____________________________________________

Waking up with Tim by his side is amazing.

The smaller man was curled next to him, a hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The long black hair messed up but still so beautiful. Tim's face relaxed, a samll smile on his face.

Last night Jason gave him one of his own shirts, and the younger basically swam in the white shirt.

Jason looked at the paler than normal skin that was now available. It was in the same colour of the shirt.

He pulled Tim closer to him, kissing the beautiful man's forehead and closing his eyes.

Immediately going back to the welcoming blackness of sweat dreamless sleep. _____________________________________________

The next time he woke up was because Tim wasn't next to him.

Jason didn't know exactly why he woke up because of that, but the moment Tim's weight left his body his eyes snapped open, meating beautiful blue eyes.

Tim smiled at him, a sleepy smile. His hair a whole lot of mess and Jason's heart beated faster as he smiled back.

The sun was already in the middle of the sky and the clock on the wall said it was already one A.M.

"Mornin' Jay" Tim whispered.

"Morning baby clown" _____________________________________________

They ate together, silence surrounding them in the most comfortable way.

Jason couldn't exactly point it out but something about Tim made him.... just feel whole. Like he didn't felt since he woke up six feet deep.

Both of them were in Jason clothes and Jason found out that for some unknown reason, white looked better at pale skin.

And Tim.. Tim was the most beautiful human he saw. His blue eyes, his black long hair, and this perfect smile. Jason started asking what he fucking did right to get this angel. _____________________________________________

He didn't knew how it happened but Tim's hot wet mouth was on him and he was practically in heaven.

His hands gripped the black hair and pulled slightly, making Tim moan and himself gasping as the moans vibrate on him.

He was definitely in heaven and this angel between his legs was the most perfect thing to ever happen to him.

"Oh God" he said and moaned Tim's name, his legs shacking.

"Tim I'm about to-" and with that he came down Tim's throat, the angel swallowed it and looked him in the eyes, giving him this beautiful smile. And well, Jason might die happy this time around. _____________________________________________

This night he hugged Tim closed to him, the smaller man hugging him back.

Outside the words 6 Days colored the black sky with pink, green and yellow.

_____________________________________________

It was simple. Very simple, and Jason did it already so why the hell is he freaking out?

Harley and Ivy started a riot somewhere in the city while Catwoman helped them in Arkham and said that she's going to take care of the security. So from there they were alone.

And it wasn't like he didn't knew the plane by heart, it's just that it really is happening. He's going to kill the Joker. They're going to kill the Joker.

And it's not a dream. The mother fucking clown is going to laugh for the last time. _____________________________________________

Each floor has a minimum of two guards, thanks to Killer Croc Arkham was down six guards, so floors 1-3 only had one guard each during the day (Because Gotham’s criminals are all geniuses and think that night is the best time for a breakout).

So doubling up only happened at night on these floors until the guards either recovered or replacements were vetted and hired.

Floors 4-5 had double guards at all times and floor 6 was more storage and extra holding cells than anything else right now.

Thanks to Harley and Ivy's riot there weren't a lot of guards where they were, everyone waiting to catch the two. Catwoman didn't lied about helping them from afar as every door opened to them without problems. _____________________________________________

The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, Jason noted that there weren't any guards around, wondering what Catwoman did as he heard the muffled noise of an alarm from the floor above them.

Jason walked to the guard station and peeked in to see two men slumped over and unconscious. From the looks of it they have been knocked out, 'help from afar ha?' he thought to himself, smiling a little. Looking over at Tim, the little clown being too quite for so long, the teen smiled, his skin somehow more pale than normal, and his gun at hand. Jason nodded to him and Tim did the peace sign.

They followed a hallway around behind the booth and came up on a large metal door. They waited couple of seconds and the door opened, revealing another hallway with another large metal door several yards down. There were three such doors in their's way and each one opened and closed behind them, making them closer and closer to the goal.

Jason paused and took a deep breath before the final door. This is it. This stupid clown is as good as dead. The door opened.

And there was the Joker, laying on a thin metal like bed that was bolted to the wall.

All that stood between them and the Joker was a wall of bulletproof wall with several inches thick with small round air holes cut evenly to allow air to flow into the (if it could even be called that) room.

The Joker slowly rolled off the bed when he saw them, and came to stand in front of the clear wall, a sick smile on his face. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Visitors? Oh, I know you!" He said as he looked at Tim, his grin getting wider "You're my little lamb. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!”

Jason's heart started to beat faster, looking at Tim's hand gripping the gun so tight that his fingers turned whiter than usual.

"I'm not" Tim said, his voice quite.

"What did you said little lamb? Talk louder for papa"

Tim smiled, a small smile that made Jason question if he's going to follow the plan or not.

And of he really think about it, he was never told about this part of the plan... How will they kill the Joker?

"JJ?"

"I'm not a fucking lamb you old fucker" Tim said and shoot.

#jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #the joker #joker junior #Tim Drake #harelyquinn #poison ivy #Selina Kyle #fluff #angst #falling in love #this is so long #JayTim #thanks for reading #it took me so long because i got adiccted to anime

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

Text

The Chipper Cleaner

The Golden State of California hosted a melting pot of different cultures, cuisines and languages from around the world. The Great Depression of the 1930s hit families and businesses hard. Many people were out of jobs, some lived in the streets or in debilitated shacks close together. Mexican, European and Asian immigrants were often seen in camps, doing what they could to survive and live through the days. Men, women and sometimes children would help out in the fields and harvest wheat and food. It wasn’t uncommon to hear guitar playing or balls being kicked around or a few songs carried out in the desert air in an attempt to lift spirits up.

To make matters worse, a terrible drought spread through the nation in 1930. Crops died from lack of water and harvests failed across farms in the U.S. Thousands went hungry as farms and homes were lost. The former prosperous economic growth and glory of the Roaring Twenties was reduced to memory.

The 1940s would bring about World War 2, more women in the workforce and the internment of thousands of people with Japanese ancestry. For as diverse as California was, racism, sexism and discrimination were still commonplace everywhere.

In the vibrant city of Los Angeles, California, a nifty little girl was born. Her name was Nerissa, born March 22nd, 1929. She was born to her parents: Hiroto and Akemi Nifuti. Her mother, Akemi was from Japan and arrived to Hawaii. Having only met her husband through sent pictures as a picture bride, she and Hiroto got married on the docks of Hawaii. She was disappointed to hear that Hiroto was older and didn’t have any luxury cars or clothes. Nevertheless, it was an escape from her family duties back in her home country, so she moved and married him. After working on the plantations for a while, the couple decided to move to California, where they lived in a rural area. Their small house was made of wood that was painted red and white.

Close by their house was a field of wheat, soybeans and tomatoes growing on vines. Or at least, that’s how it should’ve looked during a good harvest. However, the drought had done a number on the family’s crops. The beans were small and dried up, the tomatoes hardly growing at all. The family had to be careful about not spending too much money…they made some of it selling their crops at a local farmer’s market. Thankfully, their jobs allowed them to keep a house and not go broke. Other families weren’t as lucky.

Niffty’s father was a farmer and newspaper editor and her mother worked at a sewing factory. Since Niffty’s parents were often busy with work, they hired a sitter to take care of her. The sitter was white with brown hair and green eyes, in her early 30s. She would often wear pink dresses with white polka dots on it, her mousey brown hair tied back. Although Michelle Marie Ann was Caucasian, she treated Niffty like she was her own daughter. She watched Niffty crawl, babble, and slowly take her first steps.

“Yay, nice job!” she said in a cooing tone as Niffty took her first steps across the floor before landing in a heap in her lap.

Michelle looked over at Akemi and Hiroto. “She’s a fast learner,” Michelle remarked. Both parents were pleased. Hiroto then went out to water what was left of the crops, while Akemi sat in a large room to get a head start on some dresses and hats.

Niffty started crying again and Michelle rocked her gently in her lap. Michelle let out a soft sigh and carried her to a bedroom to change her diaper.

Whenever Akemi had time to spend with Niffty, she taught her the Japanese language and etiquette.

Niffty started learning when she was a couple years old. Her mother would sing her songs and tell her stories. The little girl loved every minute of it. Niffty’s father would smile passively at them, before returning to work or have some drinks.

Niffty would later learn to write several Japanese characters as well, at least at home or when writing letters to distant family members.

“Hai. Yes,” Akemi said, with a nod of her head. Niffty copied the motion. “iie. No.” She shook her head, more of a frown on her face, before Niffty copied her.

“Onegai shimasu? What’s that?”

Niffty answered. “Please?”

“Very good,” Akemi said.

Of course, Niffty had to learn several things the hard way.

“Nerissa! iie!” Akemi scolded when a four year old Niffty had arrived into the house wearing dirty shoes. She pointed back outside and Niffty slumped back out to take her shoes off.

“Nerissa,” called her father. “I need your help digging up some dirt out here.” Niffty raced out and grabbed a small shovel. She helped her father dig holes and seek out fresh dirt to try and plant seeds.

At dinner time, the family had sushi, onigiri rice balls and grilled chicken skewers called yakitori. Niffty was struggling with holding chopsticks. Hiroto had to chuckle as Niffty’s sushi kept slipping from in between the wooden utensils. Niffty reached to pick it up but Akemi stopped her with a glare. Niffty kept her little hand extended, the two members locked in a sort of stare down. Niffty tried using the chop sticks in one hand before both utensils rolled off the table and clattered to the floor. Niffty grabbed the sushi and popped it into her mouth with a giggle. Akemi sighed and slapped her hand to her forehead. Hiroti rolled his eyes and helped himself to more food.

“Nerissa, dear you still have much to learn,” her mother said as Niffty bent down to pick up the sticks.

Akemi also showed Niffty the very important duties of cleaning the house and sewing clothing. “I work at a sewing factory,” she said. “And more than likely, you’re gonna work in a similar job if not the same. Watch closely.”

Niffty watched in curiosity as Akemi sat down and worked both a sewing machine and used her own hands. She weaved string of different colors through loops as she moved the sewing needles around in her hands. Niffty practiced on her own, sewing together a hole in a small cotton cap to start with. She fumbled several times but slowly got used to it. Several weeks later, she had made her first scarf.

“Quite impressive,” Akemi praised.

Niffty had poked at her fingers several times, but they eventually toughened up. Muscle memory took over in her fingers for many of the tasks she did. The more she performed them, the easier it felt…and the faster she did them. Sewing on buttons, bows and decorations was Niffty’s favorite part. It wasn’t long before she frequently helped out her mother with sewing and cleaning the house. It became an expectation for years afterward.

“Scrub harder, Nerissa,” Akemi said as Niffty learned how to wash dishes. “You need to really get the stains off around the bottom rim of the pot. Like this.” She grabbed a sponge and moved it rapidly up and down and in circles. Niffty laughed as she got her hands soapy and wet. On occasion, Akemi would playfully splash her with water. They would have a quick water fight with loud giggles before returning to work.

Cleaning chimneys was Niffty’s least favorite hobby. But it was one her father insisted she do. “You’ll eventually need to learn it if you ever get a somewhat decent job,” he reminded her. Women were working more, but opportunities were still very limited for them.

Using thick dusters and other supplies, she could easily fit into the small space. She hated how dirty she got from the soot and ash. Niffty felt like Cinderella much of the time, from the hard cleaning work she did, to fantasizing about going to a ball and meeting a prince. Imagining herself as a beautiful princess helped pass the time. The water in the wooden wash bin would be black by the time Niffty was done washing herself off. She would scrub her skin for half an hour, trying to get the grime off as much as possible.

Niffty soon she got some exciting news at age six: she was going to school for the first time. She was soon dropped off at Wellis Elementary, a yellow brick building. While at school, Niffty excelled at literature, home economics, art, reading, writing and history. She was also a fast runner in gym class as well. Math and science were subjects she struggled with.

Nifty would spend hours reading the books in the classrooms. She would often be seen eagerly raising her hand to tell the answer. She had to learn to slow down on whatever activity she did…many of the classmates couldn’t keep up with her!

“Shorty Jap! Shorty Jap!” jeered a bunch of mean older kids who shoved Niffty to the floor on her way to music. Niffty cried out, tears flowing down her cheeks. A nearby teacher arrived and took her to the nurse’s office.

“Just a bruise on your knee but it should heal up in no time,” the nurse said as Niffty wiped her tears away.

“Why are they so mean?” she sobbed. “What did I do?”

“Those kids are mean to all the newcomers,” the nurse said. “They tend to pick on the little kids in particular.”

“But I’m not that little,” Niffty said. “I just turned seven!”

“Sorry, I thought you were four.”

Niffty lowered her face, black bangs obscuring her forehead. Her face flushed in embarrassment. Her dress was white, her leggings tight and shoes were shiny and black. Her hair was short and black, her eyes dark brown and slanted. Her skin was a light brownish or as some bullies would mock, “yellow.” Indeed, Niffty was one of the shortest people in her class. There were rumors about her having a growth stunt, but Niffty had developed physically and mentally at a fast rate. Indeed, she was smarter than many kids her age.

“Don’t let them get to you,” the nurse said. “Now hurry on back to class.”

Fortunately, singing and playing instruments helped Niffty forget about the incident. “I’m gonna be a singer when I grow up!” she declared much to the bemusement of her classmates.

Niffty got home to see Michelle Marie Ann smiling warmly at her, wearing a fluffy lavender dress with a purple bow around her waist. Niffty remembered to leave her shoes outside.

“How was school?” she asked.

“It was fine,” she replied in a monotone.

“Only fine? You were so enthusiastic about it earlier.”

“Mean kids were mean to me.”

“How so? What did they do?”

“They said I was a shorty Jap and shoved me to the ground.”

A horrific look crossed Michelle’s face. “I’m so sorry, Nerissa,” she said.

Her parents shared concerned looks in the distance. Sooner or later, their daughter would have to learn the hard truth about who she was and about the society they lived in.

“It’s okay,” Niffty said. “I still got to learn new things and do the entire alphabet in English!”

“How wonderful!” Michelle smiled. Niffty was always optimistic, ever the imaginative one. Whenever things got down, Niffty would always see the silver lining in everything.

“What did the kids mean when they said that stuff?”

Michelle sighed, trying to put words together. “Let’s just say that many people don’t like others who are different.”

Before Niffty could ask further, Michelle said,” I have a surprise for you, sweetie.”

She dug into her dress pocket and pulled out a stuffed animal. Niffty beamed and took the figure and hugged it to her chest. It was a stuffed pink poodle decorated with white polka dots.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh I do I do I do!” Niffty squealed. The two of them shared a warm hug.

After dusting a bookshelf, vacuuming the rugs and polishing several appliances, Niffty soon got ready for bed. Michelle tucked her into bed. Hiroto was passed out on the couch and Akemi was up in her room finishing up outfits to sell.

“Can you read me a story?” Niffty asked.

“Of course my dear,” Michelle answered. “Which one?”

Niffty pointed to an orange picture book. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Michelle picked it up and read the title. “Princess Hachikazuki.”

Niffty cuddled up in her sitter’s lap as Michelle began. It was like she was transported to another world.

In the story, Lord and Lady Sanetaka prayed to the bodhisattva of mercy to give them an heir. The beautiful princess was born. The mother became sick and before she passed away, she placed a bowl on the princess’s head. The princess threw herself in a river when people laughed at her but soon, a prince fell in love with her. Although her rival stepsisters tried to separate them, Hachikazuki’s bowl came off of her head, allowing her to win a ladies contest. The couple happily married and the princess was reunited with her father.

“Oh I just love happy endings!” Niffty beamed as Michelle closed the book.

A year later, Michelle told her a story that seemed to stay with her. It would be the last story the sitter ever told.

“Read me a story, please?” Niffty asked.

“But it’s your bed time, Nerissa,” she said. “You’re getting old for this, according to your parents.”

“Please? Please? Please?” the little girl pleaded with shining eyes.

Michelle gave in with a smile. She knew Niffty would always be a child at heart. “Alright, but just one.”

She cleared her throat.

“Once upon a time in a vast kingdom, there lived a beautiful blonde haired princess. She lived in a palace with her father and mother, the king and queen. While she was there, she was taught how to sing, play the violin, dance and how to rule with a firm hand. The king and queen loved to perform for their subjects. They would host grand balls for the nobility and invite the well-off to join the fun. There were jesters, jugglers, and an array of delicious food for them to enjoy. All in all the princess was very happy, surrounded by the music.”

“But as she got older, she learned more about the land she was in. Her father had enforced strict rules on his subjects, and for good reason. Although the peasants, knights, shop owners and caretakers worked hard, they also fought a lot. It wasn’t uncommon for farmers to fight over crops, or fellow knights to raid churches and villages. Disease also spread rapidly.”

“One day, the princess saw a horrific sight. Soldiers from a rival kingdom arrived and mercilessly slaughtered the citizens! The knights in armor were no match for the guns. After the damage had been done, those who remained had to dispose of the dead and start over, always in fear that they would come again.”

“Father,” cried the princess. “How could you let this happen?!”

“My army is no match for the soldier’s guns,” he replied. “They invade and kill my people for the sake of it. But there is nothing that can be done. Perhaps the troublesome workers deserved their fate.”

“Mother!” the princess cried. “Can’t you do something as well? Those poor people suffer every day out there!”

But the queen was busy deciding which dress to wear for the next performance.

The princess tried to talk to the people around her, offering to help in any way she could. Many of them laughed and mocked her.

“A secluded princess trying to help us out?” they asked. “Who does she think she is? She doesn’t know anything at all.”

Fortunately, the princess befriended a woman warrior to help her out. The woman could live off the land and use any kind of weapon, but she had a bad temper at times. The princess had an idea.

“What if I run a refuge place to help travelers and my people get along? If not that, then at least, the poor would have a place to stay.” Her warrior friend agreed to help, provided she not get too optimistic about the iffy plan. The king and queen used some of their money to build the building by the trading route, just so they could focus on their own hobbies. They, too, didn’t agree with her ideas. The princess was saddened by her ignorant parents.

One traveler soon arrived, a man who smoked, drank and often ran around nude. He slept with women and men alike. He was a reckless fighter as well, and had almost died fighting off rival knights on the battlefield. The princess happily welcomed him in, but the warrior wasn’t as pleased. It was slow going, but it was a start.

Now, the king had many lords and men in his inner circle. One of them was a man who lived in the woods and hunted deer. He often wore a dark cloak and carried a staff with a deer skull on it. But he was also a devious trickster. He was feared throughout the land because of his great skill in dark sorcery. Many people had fallen prey to his curses, poor and wealthy alike…he loved making deals.

When the sorcerer saw that the princess was opening the place of refuge, he decided to check it out. He already had a plan to get to know the members of the royal family…having a secret grudge against them. Before he did, he gathered two people to his side. One of them was a strong muscular fighter…and the best gambler in town.

“Your skills in gambling and fighting are second to none,” the sorcerer said, soon gathering up lies. “I could use a strong hand like you. Those horrible soldiers killed my wife and children and I’m worried that I’ll be next.”

“I’m not helping you,” the gambler scoffed as he drank more booze and drinks. “Why didn’t you use your magic?”

“The soldiers weren’t affected by it and now…I’m left with nothing...”

“But if you work for me, I’ll give you more drinks and money. Plus if you’re looking for a nicer place to stay, the princess has a refuge center not too far from here.”

Reluctantly, the gambler shook the sorcerer’s hand and followed him.

Later, the sorcerer spotted a maid who was cleaning chimneys and caring for a bunch of children.

“You look like you’re pretty busy,” the sorcerer said. “Cleaning the same dirty place all the time sounds boring.”

“It is,” the maid said. “And lonely. There are no handsome men around either.”

The sorcerer then spoke in a smooth seductive tone. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Why, if you help me out, I’ll provide you with a clean house and introduce you to the most handsome of men in the kingdom. I’ll be your first friend if you wish.”

The maid eagerly shook his hand, and the trio went off to the hotel. Once they arrived, the princess welcomed them in with open arms.

“I’d love to help out with your place, your majesty,” the sorcerer said with an elegant bow. “Trying to make people better…that’s near impossible, but hey, it’s worth a shot.”

The sorcerer charmed the princess with dances and magic tricks. With a snap of his fingers, the place was repaired and clean. She soon became attracted to him. The man even made a splendid dinner for everyone to enjoy.

“He’s untrustworthy,” the warrior woman warned the princess. “I’m your best friend but please be careful.”

“Don’t worry,” the princess said. “I can take care of myself.” She hoped that her plan would work…and hoped she could prove herself worthy to her parents.

Then, on the next fateful day…”

“Nerissa!” called Akemi from down the hall. “It’s time to go to sleep!”

“She’s right,” Michelle said as she closed the book in a heart stopping snap.

“Awww, Michelle! Mother! You can’t stop there! We were getting to the good part!”

“Maybe another time,” said Michelle as she tucked Niffty into bed. “Good night, dear.” Michelle’s footsteps grew fainter as she left the room.

Nifty stared at the starry sky and the full moon though her window. “Maybe my dreams will come true someday,” she sang softly to herself with a smile and a look of longing.

“A dream is a wish, my heart makes

When I’m fast asleep.

In dreams, I will lose my heartaches

Whatever I wish for, I keep

“Have faith in dreams and someday

My rainbow will come smiling through

No matter how my heart is grieving

If I keep on believing

The dream that I wish will come true.”

Niffty yawned after she finished the song and settled into sleep.

Yellow Peril: Chinese workers arrive to U.S. mid 19th century, restricted to railroads and mines. Anti-Chinese groups worked to pass laws to limit Asian American equality with whites. Like Irish, Italians, Chinese and Japanese were viewed as threats to “racial purity” and a source of economic competition.

1886-1924 peak: People immigrating from Japan to find work to survive. Many arrived on Hawaiian Islands, moving to the West Coast. Immigrants selecting brides from their immigrant countries via a matchmaker who paired them only using pictures and family recommendations. Some women choose to be picture brides to escape familial duties and seek economic growth. Some came to Hawaii because it was a trend. Picture brides immigrated to the U.S. to be with husbands. Men would often pose in pictures with cars and items they did not own.

Nakodo: go between/match maker who looks at status, age, wealth of bride

Pucture brides had to go through immigration inspections. They would meet their soon to be husbands and attend a wedding ceremony on the docks.

Reality: older grooms living in racially segregated plantations

Plantation workers, many Japanese women. Irrigated and weeded the fields, stripped cane of dry leaves, or cut seed cane. Women were also expected to take care of the house, cooking, cleaning, sewing and raising children. Many women moved to Honolulu to start their own businesses.

Values instilled to children included filial piety, obligation to community and authority, reciprocal obligation, importance of hard work, frugality, drive for success (seiko).

Some married husbands were abusive or alcoholic or tried to sell women into brothels but many wives stayed for their children. Wives who eloped could be sent back to Japan.

No passports to picture brides in 1920.

Naturalization Act of 1870: revoking citizenship to Chinese Americans

Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882: stopped immigration from China

Japanese workers recruited, triggering a rapid increase in population.

Immigration Act of 1924: banned Japanese and Chinese from entering U.S.

Japantowns (Nihonmachi) in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle etc. community groups organized charity events and set up shops separate from whites, Japanese language schools.

Pearl Harbor attack 1941: led the United States into World War 2. Americans, French, England, unified to fight against Germany, Japan and Italy.

Kamikaze suicide bombings, Pearl Harbor, Baatan Death March, American POWs killed by Imperial Japanese forces

“Jap hunting licenses” Japanese forced to move away and close their businesses.

Stereotype of Japanese and schools as loyal to the emperor of Japan, promoting racial superiority and violent fighting skills.

1942: Japanese incarcerated in camps “War Relocation Camps” western U.S, 1942-1946 “one blood drop rule”

Jan 1942: immigrants required to have certificates and IDs on them

Unfavorable reports of Japanese action noticed by the U.S. government, (Pearl Harbor, Invasion of China 1931).

Thin barracks with little room for privacy, barbed wire fences and guards.

(shikata ga nai) “It cannot be helped.” School lessons only taught in Englsih. Dust storms, cramped living conditions. There was baseball, bands and recreation.

Internment ends 1945/1946

Japanese businesses, homes and places of worship were destroyed with vandalism, gunshots and explosives. Some people were shot in the camps while others died from lack of medical care.

Niffty lives her life as a Japanese American woman and teenager in the 1950s. She is little, with short black hair and pale skin. She is born in the 1920s…on March 22 (VA birthdate), 1929 (Year of the Snake)! Being the same age as Vaggie when she died at age 22, Niffty died in 1951. She is a human named Nerissa Nifuti (after the maid. Her last name is Niffty in Japanese).

March 22 1929: Niffty’s birth in Los Angeles, California, as Nerissa Nifuti. (Capital city based on New Orleans, New York and Las Vegas populous cities of the former homelands of the other characters)

1930: age 1

1931: age 2

1932: age 3

1933: age 4

1934: age 5

1935: age 6

Niffty briefly lives with her parents in a rural area. Picture bride mother who arrived from Japan and to Hawaii and worked on a plantation, older alcoholic father who lived in Hawaii.

1930s: Niffty learns to walk and talk and speak Japanese and English. She always removes her shoes whenever she enters her home and other buildings. She is fast in almost everything, crawling early, babbling early, very talkative and quick on her feet. Niffty is a fast learner as well, often ahead of her class. Niffty learns best by working with her hands. Niffty develops her love of reading and writing.

At some point, Niffty’s father becomes abusive to both of them but Niffty’s mother has to stay to uphold her family honor.

1936: age 7 Niffty starts school. Niffty is often chided for talking so fast and not being passive

Niffty is bullied in Weill school for her heritage and short height. Niffty excels at literature, running, music, singing, arts and crafts, reading and writing, but not at math, sports, science or history.

1937: age 8 With being a good housewife instilled in her at an early age, Niffty begins to clean and cook and sew early on, while also looking for the perfect husband in the future.

1938: age 9

1939: age 10 World War 2 begins

Niffty reads mangas and starts writing her own stories while maintaining a clean house for her family. They also have a black poodle named Michelle.

1940: age 11

1941: age 12

1942: age 13

1942: Year of Death. Niffty and her parents are sent to an internment camp. Manzanar Relocation Center. Niffty’s father is shot for trying to escape and her mother dies of an illness at an infirmary. The walls are thin and barracks are overcrowded.

1943: age 14

1944: age 15 Niffty is often surrounded by the stench of death. She eats like an animal and longs to be free.

1945: age 16

Niffty’s father is shot for trying to escape and her mother falls ill and dies in a makeshift infirmary. Niffty remains in the camp until 1945, finishing schooling and joining the band. Niffty has to live with several other families and children in cramped spaces. The lessons were only taught in English. Niffty falls in love with several boys. Niffty meets one nice one but he eventually leaves with his family, leaving Niffty behind.

Niffty returns to her home town with nothing to return to. She finds Japanese businesses, homes and places of worship destroyed with vandalism, gunshots and explosives.

By sheer luck, she is able to live and work for an upper class white family as a maid, cook and a person who sews their clothes. The mother is racist toward her but not the father nor the older sister, who tolerate her.

1946: age 17 Niffty is visited by Alastor through a radio. He offers her mangas, appreciation for her work and a new “perfect” boyfriend/husband, plus a radio. She agrees to help him out later on, but she gets more than what she bargained for.

1947: age 18 Niffty gets married to her boyfriend but still works for the family.

1948: age 19 Niffty’s husband starts hitting on Niffty’s white adoptive sister. Niffty’s adoptive parents make her do even more work since she is so good at it. Niffty’s fanfictions are read by others and starts attracting horny older men.

1949: age 20

1950: age 21 Niffty’s husband beats and violates her, though Niffty still remains in love with him. She lets him violate her, feeling more and more broken and helpless. One part lasted three hours, leaving her feeling sticky and disgusting.

Niffty asks the radio for advice and it influences her to do evil things. Jealous of her adoptive sister’s beauty and attention to her husband, Niffty kills her and cleans up the mess, serving her flesh in meat pies to neighbors.

During one evening on the streets, a horrified Niffty glances at a man violating a corpse of a woman and stabs him to death. She darts away before she can be caught.

1951: age 22 The trauma Niffty faces catches up and she snaps. Niffty kills her husband as he tried to rape and stab her and sets his house on fire. At the same time, she cries over the loss of him. She writes about it in a journal, which is discovered by the mother. This draws attention to the police, the father had called them earlier.

Niffty gets cornered by police inside her home. One of them is a relative of her husband. Niffty tries to run but gets shot three times in the thigh. Before anyone could do anything, the officer picks her up and tosses her into a burning fireplace, where she dies.

1951: Niffty arrives in Hell, lost and overwhelmed. One demon, a black spider named Rhapso hires her to work at a clothing Emporium. Niffty is beaten and chided for every little mistake she makes, every loose thread, driving her toward perfection like in life. Niffty also has to clean her boss’s room and cook meals. Out of sheer spite, Niffty steals and wears an elegant dress made of black swan feathers, sizing it down to fit her small body. Her boss threatens to roast her in the furnace but as she is immune to fire says “Let’s say you’re in deep hot water, brat.”

Niffty is thrown into the burning lake as punishment. Niffty plunges to the bottom of the lake, unable to breach the surface as sinners sink to the bottom instead of floating like in regular water. Though Niffty can survive in hot places, the heat and pressure becomes uncomfortable. There are also fiery underwater monsters to avoid. Niffty often has nightmares of her boyfriend sending her into an icy lake to drown, or watching her parents suffer at the internment camp. There is no way for her to interact with the world, make friends and no one to fall in love with. She dreaded having to be forcefully pulled from the surface by her boss and be forced to work more long shifts.

Until one demon is alerted by her presence…

After having signed the contract on Earth, Niffty’s presence is sensed by Alastor’s shadow. The shadow reaches in and picks up Niffty, the little demon gasping for breath. Then, she meets Alastor. Alastor reminds Niffty of the deal she had made in the living world and invites her to shake his hand to seal it. Niffty is eager to do so, already enamored by the Radio Demon’s charm.

Niffty’s boss comes back and demands Niffty go back to work, but Alastor says he would take Niffty instead. Niffty sets her boss and store on fire for revenge, entertaining Alastor. Niffty calls herself Niffty.

Niffty soon works for Alastor, making his meals, cleaning his cabin-like lair underground (Deer’s Den) (plus his above ground smaller radio studio cabin), sewing voodoo dolls and tailoring his suits. She also is handy in fighting as she is immune to fire, speedy, skillful with her hands and can fit into small places. In exchange, Alastor gives her a place to stay, money, some journals and clothing for her hobbies, plus voodoo creatures for her to eat and play with.

Niffty is soon summoned from the fireplace and gets to work cleaning the hotel rooms and helping make meals for the hotel residents. Niffty writes erotic fanfiction and sews in her spare time. Along with Husk, Niffty protects Alastor and helps kill his enemies.

Niffty starts an Instagram account under the name babyfeatherduster. She is seen posing at Alastor’s feet, hanging out with Husk and trying to take Alastor’s picture. People mistake her for a child, even though she is in her 20s.

Niffty’s true intentions would eventually be revealed. Niffty seeks to be doted on by lots of men, and she lives in a fantasy world of her own. And she’ll use any means necessary to make the world of Hell her own. (she might manipulate men into sleeping with her). Niffty shares traits with Charlie from Always Sunny. Niffty loves erotic stuff and that includes fanfictions, pictures and maybe spying on nude men. She has pica, eating stuff like spiders and fabric. Although Niffty likes to get lost in fantasy and romance, she may be the most socially aware member of the group. She can also manipulate people and knows about Hell’s racist/class driven system. Her delusions of authority and emotions hide a sense of insecurity. Like Charlie from Always Sunny, Niffty is good at sewing, cooking, singing and music.

#niffty #alastor #husk #hazbinhotel #nerissa #backstory

10 notes · View notes

vesperione · 4 years

Text

It Started With A Whisper

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901156

Wordcount: 3,060

Relationship: Xander Lee/John McNamara

Tags: The Apotheosis, transition from non infected to infected, songfic, phone call, angst, crying, last words, flashback.

Full fic below

A flash of golden hair and two hands slamming down on the table, the face of pure rage over the bustling in the room. “I said SILENCE!” He roared, and his agents seemed to get the idea. They silenced themselves and looked down to their table, except one, who was a physicist and remained looking up. The general didn’t stop. “We are in a situation where the spores could spread to become a pandemic worldwide, ending humanity as we know it! We know thanks to Lieutenant Lee that the origin of these mutating spores came from the meteor that crashed into The Starlight Theatre last night during the touring production of Mamma Mia! We know these spores in particular alter DNA to mimic someone in a musical, but once you get infected, you’re dead. We must not panic and remain safe!” He said and glared at each individual soldier, his eyes lingering on the Lieutenant’s face beside him. It was worried, sad, fearful. He looked away first, and the general took a breath.

“Any remaining survivors must be shot dead, once in the head, once in the heart. We don’t know who is infected. The plan after is that we incinerate the corpses of the dead, destroy any last spores with fire and blow the meteor to shreds. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices rang from around the table.

“I wish for Lieutenant Lee to stay behind and as for the rest of you? You are required to head straight to your stations and do not move once you are there! PEIP will be in lockdown once everyone is in the correct position. Dismissed.”

With that, the shuffle of chairs against faded carpet, the soldiers left, aside from two. The Lieutenant remained sitting down, his hands putting his head in their hold, while John, pull a chair beside him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Dear, a lot of people have died, and it is our duty to make a clean sweep of the island. We can’t allow any others to die today.”

“But if you go out there, there’s a higher possibility that you will die. You can’t go out; you won’t make it back.”

“Xander, listen.” John looked down to his husband, his hands placed in a firm clasp. “We are strong. We are McNamara’s.”

“No, you’re a McNamara, we got married illegally.”

“Regardless, you’re my husband, and you’re the strongest man I know. The McNamara’s are the strongest family in Hatchetfield, we’ll be fine.”

“No, we won’t. Things are indefinitely gonna change whether you make it back or not.” John looked to the Lieutenant, just in time to see a tear drop on to the glass table. He bit his lip and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll make it back.”

“Stop lying to yourself, John.” Xander said, his voice shaking as tears continued to fall down his face. “If you go, you’re gonna die. You know that, deep down.” He looked up to face his husband. “The agents we’ve already sent out have died, you know that, I know that, Ben knows that, and you’re gonna send yourself into the epicentre?”

“Xander, you know it’s not like that.” John looked at him, trying to reason, but he shook his head.

“Speaking from a Lieutenant’s point of view, if our general dies, the entire precinct goes down with it. I’m aware Colonel Schaffer is prepared to take over PEIP at any sudden chance you go, but PEIP will never be the same. It won’t be General McNamara’s precinct anymore. Sure, you’ll get your place on the PEIP Hall of Commemoration, but there’ll be a new leader, new rules.”

“I know but-“

“And as your husband, who the fuck am I going to come home to every night aside from the cats?” He looked up at John and took in the slight grey thunderbolt streaks that clashed with his stormy blue skies of irises, creating the picture-perfect storm on what could have been a blank canvas. It was a while before John broke his eyes away and stood up. “No, John! You tell me! You can’t run from this! You can’t run from the pain you’re gonna cause others if you step out that door!”

“It’s hard enough as it is for me to have to leave you, but as the general of this god-forsaken branch, it’s my duty to protect the remaining agents while they stay in the precinct and calculate a cure! You will be one of those to go into your lab and get working!”

“Yet I can’t go with you?!”

“You don’t have the current training!”

“Stop trying to fucking protect me, John! I’ve been here since 2007 and you treat me like a Private most of the time! I’m a 35-year-old Lieutenant with a degree in theoretical physics and I’m fully trained as a medic! I have the training, so why are you sacrificing your life instead of mine?!”

“Because if I have to watch you die, then what’s the point of trying to go on, Xander?! I’d be alive, yes, but I’d only be surviving! If I had to watch you die, then I wouldn’t be able to call myself a married man and the person who kept me alive wouldn’t be there to comfort me. I’d be down, I’d be so down, and I’d end up dead anyway! I’d prefer it if you stayed here, under my orders, and for you to stop being so damn stubborn with me!”

“Me? Stubborn?!” Xander laughed tearfully and looked at him. “You’re the stubborn one! You run from your problems instead of solving them, you bask in your insecurities instead of delving upon them, you-“ But he was cut off by the familiar feeling of John’s semi-chapped lips against his own. John’s hands were cupping his face, and John was standing on his toes to kiss him better. Xander couldn’t help but hold his waist as he kissed him back. He didn’t want to be the one to pull away, and he didn’t think John would want to be the person either, so he could feel the kiss deepening. Eventually, John’s face left his, but his forehead was pressed to the physicist’s. The soft thumb attached to John’s hand wiped away the bead of salt that threatened to roll down Xander’s face.

“Hey, baby,” John started, his eyes closed and his voice quiet. “I’ll be home by ten. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Xander said, a soft whisper in his voice as John moved away from his husband, not before he dropped his wedding and engagement rings in Xander’s fist. Before Xander could process it, he was gone.

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

(a JEIP is a peip officiated jeep)

John started up the JEIP, hearing Xander’s music playing through the speaker. He immediately switched it off. He’d rather not be reminded of his husband as he accepted his fate.

His husband, his smart, incredible, the pure definition of ‘tall, dark and handsome,’ Xander James Lee. His mind was like no others, and John had hired him on the spot. They started dating within a year and got married two years after. They’d both cried when they’d gotten home that night. It had been illegal, and they both knew that, but they had each other. He was John’s new addiction, aside from the cigarettes, and Xander became the only thing he thought about ever. When Xander spoke, sometimes it sounded like what John was being given was fiction, but it was only because John’s mind was struggling to piece together the creative aspects of Xander and the complicated phrases he uttered. It didn’t matter. John was a sorry sucker for the smart, and he found that this kind of thing happened all the time. He was an easy target to gain a crush on someone, but he rarely acted upon it. If Xander hadn’t kissed John in his office to begin with, he wouldn’t be married to the smartest guy in town.

He shook his head. Thinking of Xander would make everyone worse. He started driving deeper into the centre of Hatchetfield to reach Hatchetfield High, the school where he suspected there’d be a few survivors, if any. The grey haze around him soon became a paler blue. He locked his doors and windows, but he feared it was too late.

It started with a whisper. It was only the smallest thing, but it was in the back of John’s mind, and he knew he was gone.

He doesn’t love you.

“ No, John, ignore it.”

And you don’t love him.

“ Of course you do, you’re married to him, don’t cave in.”

That was why you kissed her when you were drunk.

“John, you only kissed her when you were seventeen, it was internalised homophobia and we didn’t know Xander back then.”

But you liked the way she felt against your lips.

“No. I didn’t.”

And then she made your lips hurt.

“Shut up.” The voice was getting louder, and it was being sung to him.

But we can hear the chit chat, so take us to your love shack-

He hit the breaks and he jerked forward, panting at the memory. It was internalised homophobia, and nothing came out of it. He was left in silence until he heard the voice sing again.

Mama’s always gotta back track, when everybody talks back.

He growled and got out the car, lighting a cigarette. He was in Hatchetfield High, or near enough to it. He held his gun in his hand. He had to go and find any survivors and eliminate them.

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

Eventually he did. He found a tall, flimsy man with brunette hair who looked a lot like Xander aside from the pale skin. John grabbed a chair as the man became conscious, groaning with pain. The voice had gone away, and the general was having an internal debate as to whether he was truly infected, or whether his mind was convincing him he was. Either way, he was beginning to get scared. He’d broken his promise to his husband, he’d lost the fight.

“Sorry for the knock in the head, son. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Paul…Matthews.” The guy said, and John smiled reassuringly.

“Good evening, Paul. My name is General John McNamara of the United States Military, special unit P-E-I-P, we call it PEIP.” He said as he took a seat, facing the taller man.

“PEIP? I’ve never heard of you guys.” It was clear he was confused, which was the correct tactic. No citizen outside of PEIP should know what the army base was. Even if a member had a husband or wife or kids who didn’t work there, they were strictly forbidden from knowing what PEIP was. If information got leaked, it would traumatise a lot of people. They had to be careful who they hired and had to ensure they remained to have top secrecy 24:7. It wasn’t fair on the innocent citizens for them to be placed in a situation like that, and immediately begin to panic. He’d watched it happen when his mentor, Wilbur Cross, was unintentionally too loud when discussing a case they had to work on. Needless to say, that woman lost her life that day before she could spread rumours.

John shook his head at the faint memory, quick to come up with a joke to make the situation more light-hearted and less threatening as he’d been taught during his training.

“And you never will, not a peep.” He grinned, but Paul’s fearful, brown eyes remained wide and dilated. John sighed and took another drag on the cigarette. “That was a joke, son.” Only then did the song begin to start up again.

Hey, honey, you could be my drug. You could be my new prescription.

John froze as Paul started asking questions about the scene. The song was back, and he was losing hope about himself. John answered the questions the best he could, explaining how they dealt with crises of a certain nature and such. Then he bought up the helicopter, and Paul perked up. When John stood up with Paul’s phone in his hand, he went to throw it until he heard the song again.

Too much could be an overdose, all this trash talk make me itchin’.

John swallowed and decided to only throw it a short distance, beginning to get scared. Him and Paul continued to make short conversation about his crush, Emma, and where to go. Once Paul ran out the building, John headed back over to the phone. The lock screen was nothing special, and he didn’t know the passcode, but he was able to swipe on to the emergency phone call section. He had Xander’s phone number memorised, so he typed it in, sitting against a mat on the floor, leaning against the wall as the song continued in his head.

Oh my, my. Everybody talks, everybody talks. Everybody talks, too much.

John felt tears prick his eyes, grateful when he heard the static of the other end picking up.

“Xander Lee, theoretical physicist speaking, how may I help?”

“Hey, baby.” John said, unable to stop a smile from forming as it always did when he heard Xander’s voice.

“John! Shit! Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I swear.” That was a lie. The song was getting stronger and he was starting to feel a faint rhythm in his veins. He was getting scared. Maybe he wasn’t making it home…

“You sound panicked.”

“I’m ringing to ensure everything’s running smoothly back at HQ. Is it?”

“As smooth as it can be.” Xander’s sigh was heavy, pulling his entire weight down with him. John found himself sinking further down into the ground at the sound. “But I’m okay. I’m in my lab and I haven’t let anybody in. I’m quarantined.”

“Good.” John said, moving his beret more over his hair. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I understand. You’re doing what you have to do. You’re the general, I should have trusted you before-“

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t play the blame game now. It’s okay and I’ve forgiven you, understand?”

“Understood, John.”

“Good.” John said, clutching the edge of the mat as the beat began to become something similar to an annoying itch. He began to tap out the beat on to the carpet beside him with his other hand, trying to keep fighting the virus that consumed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I can’t wait for you to come home, I know you’ll be able to do it.”

That seemed to trigger something inside of John, and something slipped out of his mouth that wasn’t supposed to. “I never thought I’d live to see the day, when everybody’s words got in the way.” He was still speaking, but the beat was as clear as day. Luckily, he heard Xander laugh over the phone. His soft laugh that was rare to hear. John was the only one who heard it lately.

“You’re still annoyed at me for trying to stop you from leaving earlier, aren’t you?” Another laugh followed. “I knew you would, I’m not surprised.”

John couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to tell Xander the truth. He was gone, and he was falling quicker. He had to say goodbye while he still could. “Hey sugar, show me all your love. All you’re giving me is friction.”

“John?” The question was meek and scared, the tone of the call immediately fading. John never used that pet name. Something was wrong. He knew John wouldn’t have rang otherwise.

“Hey, sugar, what you gotta say?” Another way to reveal John wasn’t himself anymore. He hardly abbreviated his words and was unable to keep himself fighting the infection. He felt weak, and he knew he was. He fought back for consciousness as tears formed more in his eyes. What was worse was Xander’s panicked voice.

“John, what’s going on?!” The frantic clicking of keys on the other end of the line signalled to John that Xander was trying to access John’s medical information stored in John’s watch. He took a breath. He had to admit to Xander the truth.

“I’m sorry, Xander. But it started with a whisper…” He was quiet himself, trying to prevent sobs.

“No! Don’t you dare, John! Don’t you dare!”

“And it felt like the first time I kissed you, when you made my lips hurt.”

“You are staying alive! I’m working on a cure, I nearly have it finished! I’ll get you back!”

“And suddenly, I could hear a conjoined group of voices in Hatchetfield all singing in one harmony…there was a lot of chit chat regarding a situation that turned into a song… and I’m sorry.”

“John! You’re lying!”

“Take me to your love shack.” He slipped up and heard a sob come from the other line, or maybe it was a scream. “I’m sorry, Xander, I’m trying to fight but it’s heard when everybody talks back, everybody talks, everybody talks-“

“John, keep fighting-“

“Everybody talks, everybody talks.”

“I’ve almost gotten the cure!”

“Everybody talks, everybody talks back….I’m sorry, I love you.”

“John, fucking fight!”

“Say it back, Xander! I love you!”

“I-I love you too!”

The phone hung up and John threw it until it smashed on the ground, letting the warmth fill his body as his own thoughts became clouded with the hives own.

“It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed him.” A smirk formed on John’s face as he looked to the damaged glass he’d left on the floor. He pulled himself up, like a puppet controlled by a master. “Everybody talks, everybody talks back.” He took a final glance at the room before he walked in the same beat as the new song beginning to form. It was close enough to eleven o’clock at night. There was a guy with a moustache he didn’t recognise, but he was talking about the military and his American pride. John would have scoffed, but this wasn’t John. He drew his gun and shot him, grabbing the man’s shoulder. Xander didn’t exist to the hive. Xander was weak. Xander could be thrown away. John couldn’t. His smile was stained blue as he looked to the bleeding man.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but American’s should fit a mould…”

#mcnamander #john mcnamara #xander lee #general john mcnamara #fanfic #ao3 #peiphq shenanigans #the apotheosis

7 notes · View notes

dp-pastandpresent · 5 years

Text

Past and Present: Chapter 19

"Let me get this straight. You've been working with the Fentons for a while now in their lab, as an intern?"

The group was still in the same room, having just listened to Sam confess about her 'internship' with the Fentons.

"Well, like I said, it's been more like cleaning up Jack's messes," Sam concluded.

"Either way, Sam, if you needed answers, there were better ways to get them." Danny had a hurt look in his now green eyes.

'Says the ghost who has been doing the same thing,' Danny found himself thinking.

"It's not like you were being much help…" Sam said under her breath.

"Again!" Sarah chimed in before a lover's quarrel could ensue.

Both teens looked at her in frustration before deciding she was probably right.

"I understand you needed answers Sammy, but I wish you had tried a different way about getting them." Her grandma continued, "Or at least told me. Ever since you started hanging out with Danny you've been so secretive."

"Grandma, since when are you so against the Fentons? You do remember that Danny is one of them?" Sam asked, somewhat confused.

"Well of course, but he's different. I know him. I never even met Jack and Maddie…"

'Wait, what? She was so close to my parents, to Jazz. What happened to make her change?'

This statement took Danny by surprise, as he had assumed that Sarah had kept her connections to his family after his death.

"You didn't?"

Sarah turned to Danny, a pained look in her eyes.

"Danny it's a long story…"

"It was after your funeral. Your parents were devastated, you had such a bright future ahead of you, and then you disappeared. I, of course, was heartbroken and didn't even want to go off to college. I spent that whole summer in the house, barely eating. Finally, my parents realized something was up and forced me out. "

Sam and Danny both sat in awe as Sarah told a story she hadn't shared in years.

"But as bad as I was Danny, Jazz was worse. Your sister adored you, and always wanted to protect you. But she couldn't this time, and it ate her up. She wouldn't leave her room for the longest time, and when she finally did, she spent hours upon hours at the library trying to find answers. When the library couldn't help, she ended up skipping town to study parapsychology in California."

"Parapsychology?" Danny asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"The study of ghosts and paranormal activity," Sarah said dryly. "Back then there were only two programs that offered it, and no one took it seriously. Everyone tried to stop her, saying it was a waste of her time and money, that she was too smart to give up being a doctor, but she wouldn't listen. You know how independent Jazz was."

With the recent surge in memories, Danny could recall several things about his older sister, and her independence was definitely one of them.

"But she ended up back here, and she started the research that led to the portal, right?" Sam asked, trying to connect the dots to a family she'd been coming to know.

"Yes, she and her new husband ended up back here after they graduated, moving into the old house and starting their research. But that was after I was already gone, so I don't know the full story," Sarah confessed.

'Gone? Sarah left town too? Why hasn't she mentioned that before?'

"Sarah, You never told me you left town? You always loved it here!" Danny exclaimed in awe as the conversation started to change directions.

"Wait, Grandma? Is that what Dad used to always talk about when he said he'd visit you and Grandpa during summers?" Sam began, recalling stories of rain forests and African safaris.

Sarah turned to Danny. "Danny, as hard as it may be to believe, I needed to get away from here for awhile. Even at community college I was still too close to all the painful memories your disappearance brought."

Sarah looked away at this, small tears forming in her eyes .

When she next looked up, it was to face Sam. "Promise me Sam, that no matter what happens you will never run from your past like I did. It's my biggest regret in life that I left instead of trying to piece together things here. "

Sam moved closer to her grandma, putting her hand on her shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

"Grandma, I promise," she whispered.

There was silence for a moment before Danny broke in.

"It doesn't make sense to me. I know I just disappeared and my sister shut you out, but you never would have left before."

"That was before. When I went to school I met Tom, and he really helped me see that staying here was doing more harm than good. That we could do more good elsewhere. So we joined the Peace Corps, traveling the world and saving lives. It felt so great, for a while."

Sarah rolled over in her hammock and looked out the window of their tiny shack. Another day in Peru was about to begin.

She and Tom had been stationed here for the past six months, helping the locals of their village work on revitalizing after a major hurricane.

She had loved it at first, the same way she had all of their other missions. But the novelty was starting to wear thin, as thoughts of home and family weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Getting up to prepare for the day, she found herself brushing her long black hair in the mirror and thinking more and more about home.

'Can I really keep doing this? Running from my past? Shutting out my family the way my parents did to me?'

She looked over at Tom as he rolled over and stood up from his hammock, his scraggly beard a mess this morning. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at her and saw the frown on her face.

"Sarah, what is it this time?" he yawned, as he came closer.

"Tom, don't start with me. I'm not in much of a mood today."

"It's just, honey, you've been distant. I thought doing all this was supposed to help."

"And it did… for a while. But lately I've been missing home. My family. My son," she confessed, raising her hands to emphasize.

"Sarah, we talked about this when we decided to have him. Warren doesn't need to be globe-hopping with us. He's safer back in America at school, and when our mission is up, we'll go back and be a family."

"Which mission, Tom? This mission?" She waved her hands, emphasizing the area they were in, "Or the global one? Because every time one ends you sign us up for another!"

"Sarah, baby, you know how much I love doing good, helping people, traveling. It's been my dream since I was a kid!"

"And then you met me, a poor depressed loner and figured it'd be a good excuse!?"

Her blood was boiling now, as all the emotions she had been keeping inside as of late finally came to the surface.

Now Tom was frowning too."Remember how long we dated before you would even TELL ME why you were so guarded? Not once during that time did I ever think of you as an excuse to get away from town."

She had to admit he was right on that one, for during those first few months he had stood by and let her hide the truth without question.

Bringing her voice back to a normal level she began again. "It's just been on my mind a lot, how much I HATED it when my parents went away on business. We were never close, and now I'm doing the same thing to my own son. What kind of example is that?"

"Sarah, please, just listen to me. Going back there, to Amity Park, isn't going to help you. All your friends shut you out after…"

"Don't say it, I can't think about that right now." She quickly turned as the memories began to flood back.

"And that is exactly why you can't go back there!" Tom almost yelled in frustration.

"Who are you to say what I can and cannot do? We're not even married!"

Despite everything, including their son, Sarah and Tom had never taken the time to have an actual marriage ceremony. And the more she thought about it, Sarah was glad they hadn't.

'Who are you and what have you done with the man I love?'

They had been in love when they made the decision to take off and travel, or so she had thought. But now, twenty-five years later, the love was wearing as thin as her patience.

"I just can't do this anymore. I need to be somewhere stable. With running water and air conditioning. With Warren."

At this point Sarah had made up her mind and knew what she needed to do. Grabbing her suitcase and throwing a few things back into it, she stomped out the door, leaving Tom standing there, staring at the doorway.

"We can't just leave! We have a job to do here!"

"Who said anything about we?" she called as she stomped off. "I'm going alone. I'll send for the rest of my things soon."

With that she ventured off to the street, determined to make things right.

"It was after that that I moved back to Amity, moved in with Warren. He was so happy to see me, but so distant for the longest time. After all, he had grown up with barely a family, and now here I was living upstairs."

The strain in Sarah's voice became worse with each word.

"So that's why I never met Grandpa." Sam said, a bit of shock in her voice.

"He was a great man Sammy, don't let me tell you otherwise. But in the end, I needed to be here."

"Grandma, I… I knew Grandpa left, but you never told me all this… I wish I had known," Sam said, squeezing her grandma's shoulder.

" I didn't want to bother you with the pains of my past," Sarah said, laughing at herself for the irony they now faced.

"But that doesn't make sense," Danny interrupted. "You could have gotten in touch with Jazz when you returned, or my parents."

"I wanted to Danny, but they were gone. Your parents had died long before, and Jazz kept to her lab 24/7. No one ever saw her or her husband except when he took little Jack to school."

Sarah looked at Danny again, sincere remorse in her expression.

"Despite my return and the ease I finally felt about being back in town, I could never bring myself to approach Jazz. We had both changed so much and both gone our separate ways. I didn't need the burden of her and her research bringing me back down again. So I stayed away, never even explaining to Warren the true reason I left in the first place."

"And then one morning I woke up, turned on the news, and found out about her death. Apparently the amount of chemicals and radiation from all her research had gotten the best of her and she died younger than she should have. If I had known she was in the hospital, I would have visited, tried to fix the past. But it was too late."

"It was never too late Sarah. You should have tried to reach her the second you got back, or even before that. You said you never stopped caring, loving, but it sounds like all you did was run. You don't run from the ones you love. You help them."

Danny didn't know where this anger was coming from – he never expected to find himself mad at her. But something about this whole story just seemed off for Sarah.

'She leaves town, completely vanishes for a while, and then returns without even trying to reconnect? How could she?'

Almost as if knowing what Danny was thinking, Sarah let out a sigh.

"Danny, I know you are angry, and you have a right to be. It wasn't like me to just run from my family and friends like that. But you have to understand the circumstances. You were gone, Jazz was a mess, my parents didn't care. Tom did. He took me in and helped me, and even though we separated, I don't regret leaving town when I did. I needed to get away. Clear my head. And I did, and it helped."

Danny could tell Sarah was done with her story and was going to hold to it. Another thing from the past that he was remembering: her stubbornness.

Sam had been sitting on the sidelines for most of this story, trying to comprehend it all, and was still not sure if she understood. But there was one thing she did understand, and that was her Grandma's need to escape. After all, she held felt the exact same way recently, although the methods she had taken to escape were much worse.

But escape is escape, and sometimes we all just need to leave the world we know.'

"Grandma, don't listen to Danny. You did what you needed to do. You escaped, found a new home for a while, cleared your head…. But in the end you came back, and that's what matters."

Sam leaned over and squeezed her grandmother's hand, looking her straight in the eyes as a sign of support.

"Thank you sweetie, I knew I could count on you to understand," Sarah replied quietly.

'What would we do without each other?'

Finally breaking away, Sam pulled back a bit.

"But we do still need to talk to the Fentons. They have the answers we need to figure out what's happening to Danny. Why he's here and why he's changing."

Sarah sighed and turned to the boy next to her, his green eyes shining below a mop of black hair.

He looked back, unable to come up with anything more to say in regards to her story, and nodded.

"Well, I guess it's time I met my nephew."

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #phanfiction #dpau #danny phantom fanfiction #sam manson #fanfiction

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britishassistant · 5 years

Text

Tom Walker and the Devil

S’funny. Even after the whole business with the apple in Eden, even after Sodom ‘n Gomorrah and Herod and the Crusades and the entirety of the fourteenth century, the human capacity for willful blindness still amazes me.

Hm? Oh, don’t start on their supposed “capacity for goodness and optimism” again, angel. Look—look, don’t you dare start going off about the “ineffability of His plan” or I’m taking the wine and finding somewhere else to have a nice drink. What? Oh, so it’s proof you want, eh? Well, I was in the New World recently, and you wouldn’t believe the rate at which humans made deals with me, then tried to weasel out of them once they got cold feet!

Names? Well…there was Deacon Peabody, Absalom Crownshield… oh, and then there was Tom Walker. He was a riot, Tom was. The others, they at least had a reason for making deals with me; Deacon thought he was ensuring that his offspring would continue to live comfortably and have plenty of influence by swindling the natives out of their land, and Absalom became a buccaneer and displayed great riches to impress the mousy daughter of a fishmonger. Tom was only ever interested in how much money he had in his own pocket, a proper miser through and through! He never spent any money on firewood, nor on repairs for his shack, not even of food for his horse! …Yes angel, but the horse died eventually, so at least it wasn’t suffering very long. The only woman to ever marry him was just as miserly as he, and she had a fearsome temper! Attacked anyone who vexed her with fingernails and teeth and— …yes, angel that is how I got these scratches. Stop sniggering.

Anyway, going back to Tom Walker—I thought I’d told you to stop sniggering. Thank you. Where was I? Oh, right. I met Tom Walker when he decided to stray from the path, if you’ll pardon the pun, and managed to stumble into my neck of the woods where I was sheltering in an old fort the natives had abandoned. No it wasn’t very comfortable, I was miserable and wet half the time, but it had atmosphere, you see? Dark, dangerous, inconveniently hard to reach, really lets people know what they’re dealing with, doesn’t it? I even went through the trouble of starting a few rumors about it being a sacrificial alter to demonic spirits.

So old Tom sits down to catch his breath, and he manages to unearth a skull which he then kicks. Taking that as my cue, I appear, with my axe and half-native garb and dark skin all covered with soot and—what? No, I don’t know why I was covered in soot. It’s based off of what scares him, remember? Maybe he was scared of blacksmiths, or an honest day’s work. Anyway, we get to talking, and I show him this new system for remembering my victims that I created; I carve their names into a tree, the interior of which rots in accordance to how rotten their souls are, and I count down the days until I can collect them by hitting each tree with my axe until they die and the tree falls down. What? Oh, what d’you mean “poor, innocent trees?” Trees aren’t capable of moral action, let alone innocence or guilt! No, look—look, forget about the trees for a second, and let me carry on with my story, will you?!

Where was I…so I show him my remembering system (not one word about trees if you want to keep those feathers) give him the sales banter about how I’m responsible for all human evils, blah de blah de blah, and he guesses that I’m “Old Scratch” as they call my lot over there. We get to talking, and I mention that I know where the treasure of the pirate Kidd is buried and that only those in my favor can get at it—complete lies of course, anyone could get at the stuff, though there’s not much left to get at now—and Tom begins salivating. I mean, drool dripping down his chin and everything, the entire works. Of course he clams up a bit when I mention the conditions of the bargain being selling his soul. Of course, I’d sort of expected that; he’s a miser, and misers never want to give away anything that they perceive as having value to other people, even if they don’t value it themselves. No—no he didn’t angel, otherwise why would his soul be in poor enough condition for me to take an interest in the first place? Haven’t got an answer for that one, have you? Thought not. I tell him to go home and think on it for a few days and I brand him with my thumb as a sign of good faith and partly because it heightens the experience. No, he didn’t feel a thing, and besides it’s not like your lot are any less dramatic.

So I wait. The next day, to my surprise, a grouchy woman comes along at about twilight and demands that I give her the same deal I gave her husband. No, I wasn’t happy. What d’you mean why?! Because I’m meant to choose souls that will cause the most collateral generation of evil! Take Deacon Peabody for instance. He swindles those natives off of their land. Those natives then have to go find somewhere else to live. They don’t trust settlers anymore, so they may attack any lone merchants that they come across. That merchant, if he isn’t dead, is likely to be more surly and rude to his coworkers and distrusts the natives more than ever, so he drives harder bargains when dealing with them. And the cycle continues on and on until low-level evil accumulates into something really horrifying. Like Salem. Now, this only works if someone in a position of relative influence is able to do something that effects a group on a wide scale, and I ask you, what kind of influence does a housewife have in this day and age? Absolutely none. Forming a contract to get her soul when it’s obviously going down there anyway would be a complete waste.

So I decide to mess with her a bit, and tell her that if she wants to make a deal with me she has to bring me every portable thing she considers valuable in her house. Of course, she looks very put out about that, but she goes home and comes back the next evening with her apron laden with the stuff. I tell her to take it off and give it to me, which she does unwillingly. Then I go “see ya!” and start running. You should’ve seen her face!! It was hilarious. Practically priceless… yeah, it stopped being funny when she sprung on me like a mountain lion and began clawing my face off.

I didn’t even know what was going on at first. One moment she was standing there, the next she was mauling me! So I throw her off of me, but I didn’t really look where I was throwing, and she ended up sort of impaled…well, more like split in half by one of the trees’ branches. Oh, don’t give me that look! It was an accident and you know it! Why did the trees even have branches like that—obviously they need to look intimidating! Have you ever tried to make a tree look scary? It’s next to impossible! You’ve got to make the trunk all gnarled and knotty and the branches look like they’re curling down to grasp you! And—fine, I’ll get on with it. Well, since the body was just there and not really doing anything so I, uh, took its organs, and wrapped them up in her apron, and left them for Tom to find. His scream was pretty hilarious too, now that I think about it.

So a few evenings later, Tom comes back and agrees to the deal. We haggled a bit, him refusing to be a slave trader no matter what, funnily enough. Eventually we settled on him being a usurer, which he was very eager to start with. He started out small, creating a good reputation for himself and began to drive people to bankruptcy during a recession. The poorer the person, the harder his terms, and he was soon able to afford himself a fine house and carriage with horses to pull it. Of course, he let the house and carriage fall into disrepair because he was too lazy to pay for its upkeep. The horses starved, like usual. I, for my part, was just hanging around, waiting for the perfect moment to strike down the tree with his name on it. I made some deals with other mortals, even getting this minister to leave his congregation to become a slaver with the excuse that pagan peoples deserved a life of servitude to Christian masters. But none of them were ever as entertaining as Tom. He got extremely paranoid about me collecting my due. To try and trick me out of it, he became an avid churchgoer, praying louder than the pious, carrying around a small bible in his coat and keeping a huge one on his desk in his counting house. You should’ve seen that thing. It was bigger than a whole human baby. I measured.

Anyway, one afternoon during the dog days of summer, Tom was doing what he did best—turning away some poor sot who had made the mistake of borrowing money from him. But what sets this speculator apart from the others is that he’s persistent, and he eventually frustrates Tom to the point where Tom exclaims “The Devil take me if I ever made a farthing!” Those, of course are the words I was waiting to hear. I appear with a pitch black horse, and tell him in my deepest voice that he’s come for. He goes really pale, and his eyes bulge like a toad’s stomach, but there’s nothing he can do because his two bibles are upstairs and well away from me. I fling him onto the horse and set it galloping down the street at such a pace that his clerks have to stick their pens in their ears to dull the noise of hooves. The horse took Tom out of the town, back into the woods where he first met me, and bucked him off into a ravine that was the resting place of what remained of Kidd’s treasure. He broke his neck, and his body was never found, as a thunderbolt set the entire forest ablaze that night. When the trustees tried to take charge of his property, nothing was found except cinders and wood shavings. In his stable there were skeletons instead of horses and his great house also burned down. Such was the end of Tom Walker.

Hm? Oh, what d’you mean, this wouldn’t have happened but for me? Look, he and his wife were going down there anyway because of how miserly they were. All I did was provide him an opportunity to tap into his greater potential for evil. Even then, he took his job to extremes that my suggestions barely covered. If he’d wanted to, he could have just lent out money at a reasonable rate, since all usurers, good or bad, belong to my lot. He was the one who delighted in driving others to bankruptcy, willingly and knowingly. Sooner or later your people are going to have to open their eyes and see that maybe the Father’s precious little creations really aren’t so perfect after al—! W-wait, h-hold on a minute, angel, b-be reasonable and put the bloody holy water down—!

#my writing #good omens #the devil and tom walker #washington irving #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #tom walker #tom walker’s wife #sometime around the beginning of the Arrangement #when they still don’t like or trust each other much #but just enough to have a glass of wine together every so often #aka #when Crowley learns that boasting about his wiles to his heavenly counterpart #is maybe not the best idea #given the angel’s access to holy water #and inability to thwart said wile #when arguing about the logistics of human nature #good and evil #and whether free will was a mistake #crowley pov #second person pov #I originally wrote this for an English class assignment #it got me one of the highest grades I’d ever recieved in that class #the teacher was a harsh marker #so I was really pleased with it #posting it here in honor of the new TV show #goodomens #ineffable

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reject-princess97 · 5 years

Text

Harry Styles

I've been here, in LA for five months and two weeks and in the time I had met up with an old friend, started dating that old friend and then gotten engaged to said old friend.

Before you jump ahead of yourself you should know a few things about him.

1st: his name is Harry, and he is 24 years old. I am the same age as he his. Only a couple month younger.

2nd: I met Harry when I was 7 years old and I moved onto the same street as he and his family and I became fast friends with him and his sister.

3rd: His older sister is my best friend.

4th: Harry was in a very big boyband and when he went touring around the world we lost our way, I used to have a huge crush on him and when he left I told me he felt the same but then he got to busy to deal with a relationship so we broke up. It was mutual, we just didn't have time with each other. After that we only spoke when he visited his family and even then we didn't say much.

Jump to about seven and a half months ago when I found my boyfriend in bed with my mum, which is not surprising she was always a dick and she was never home. She was always out partying, drinking spending the weekend high of her tits with some junkie who was looking to sleep with her. She shacked up with my boyfriend, in my house, then kicked me out. She then began dating my Ex and I moved in with Gemma until a found a new place.

Not long after that I got an opportunity to spend six months in the states, LA to be exact, working on my Photography. I packed everything I needed, said goodbye to Anne and Gemma and took off to LA.

Two weeks in and I was happy to be away from my bitch of a mother and Ex, but I missed my family with Gemma and Anne so I did the only thing I could think of at the time. Call Harry.

We met up for coffee and then became really good friends again until I began feeling things for him again and I began to distance my self. Harry noticed and wouldn't let me go until I told him what was going on. I told him and next thing you know we're dating.

The last night Harry and I got talking and some how, I don't remember exactly, he asked me to marry him and I said yes, we decided to just do it, without our family because if we did they would talk us out of it and we didn't want to be turn apart by people who didn't quite understand. So here we are, Harry and I, stood out side of the city hall, waiting nervously, for our names to me called.

I sat there, my hand in his, feeling like I was about to throw up, me knee bouncing up and down and I watched as people walked past. Before we had even woken up properly, Harry and I were out the house and shopping, for everything we would need. I bought a nice white skater dress and a pair of blue converse...because I swore I wasn't getting married in anything BUT converse. I had on a necklace my dad had bought me when I was 12, before he died and I also had on a bracelet I had borrowed from Gemma a while ago.

So I had something Old, Something new, something borrowed and something blue. Next stop was a jewellery shop, where we bought a couple silver rings and Harry insisted on buying me an engagement ring that matched.

We then headed home where we changed and then headed back out, this time to the city hall where Harry had managed to book us and appointment to get married.

"Hey, you OK?" Harry asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up into his big green eyes and somehow I felt all my nerves wash away. I smiled and nodded, leaning up and kissing his lips.

"I'm about to marry you, I'm so much better than OK." I told him as I pulled away.

"So, you're not having second thoughts?" He asked. I saw worry and panic flash behind his eyes and I shook my head.

"No, Harry, no second thoughts, no cold feet, nothing but excitement and love for you." I reassured him.

"Is this not what you want?" I questioned. He let out a sharp, loud laughed.

"Ha, this is what I've wanted since I was 7 years old and you moved into the house down my street." he informed me.

"Really?" I asked, feeling a little shocked. He had told me about his crush on me growing up, Like I said before, we dated for a few months after he felt for tour with One Direction.

"Yeah, my mum used to make fun of me for it." He chuckled.

"Are we doing the right thing, not waiting for our family I mean?" I asked when I noticed Harry's smile fade a little at the mention of his mum.

"We are, we love each other and that's all that matters to me." He told me as he kissed the back of my hand. I was about to answer when our names were called.

"Styles/Y/L/N"

"That's us." I smiled as we stood up.

We walked towards the woman who called our names and she led us into a big ass room that wall pretty empty. Just a table and a woman stood at the end in a smart black suit and black heeled shoes.

"Hello, my name is Emma Black, I will be marrying you two today. Is there anybody else coming today?" She asked as she reached her.

"No, just the two of us." Harry smiled, tightening his grip on my hand just a little.

"Well, let's get started shall we." She grinned and opened the book in her hands.

"Today, we are gathered to celebrate the love you two share for each other and to allow the eyes of the law and god to see the love you to share as you are bound together in matrimony." She read then looked up at the two of us. "If it's OK with you, I would like you to read your vows." She gestured to Harry.

"OK, well, as this was a pretty quick decision, I didn't really right anything, so i'm just gonna tell you why I want this." He spoke, taking both my hands in his and turning me to face him.

"I love you, I have done since I was 7 years old. We drifted apart and I think that was what we needed to because when we found each other again, I got to fall in love with you all over again and remember why you made my heart skip a beat every time you smile." as he spoke my eyes filled with tears and I guess one fell because he wiped it away with his thumb as he continued.

"There have been other people in our time apart and I like to think that the reason it didn't work out with any of them is because we belong together and we were destined to be here. We belong together and when we return home and tell my mum we got married she'll be happy and cry...and my sister will kill us." He chuckled making me laugh to.

"I love you Y/N so much and I am so grateful that you said yes and after today will be spending our lives together. We will have our ups and downs, we'll fight and make up and I'll make you angry and upset but I will always remind you, everyday, that I love you and I always will."

"Miss Y/L/N, your turn." Emma smiled and I nodded.

"OK, well, that's gonna be hard to top." I chuckled "But six months ago, I felt my life was over, My boyfriend cheated on my with my mum. My dad was gone and the only people I had to turn to were Gemma and your mum. Then something great happened. I got an offer from my job to spend six months in LA and I took it. I packed my bags, said bye to Gemma and your mum and I took off. I felt lost after I got here, I didn't know anybody and I hated that I had nobody close by to talk to. Then I remember you. My childhood best friend. The boy who moved away to become a big star.

"When I called you six months ago I just needed a piece of home. Somebody I knew to talk to and for my life to start looking up. But I got so much more. I got my best friend back, I fell in love and now I have a husband who I will love and cherish forever.

"We have a hell of a journey ahead of us and I can't wait to share it with you. I love you Harry with all my heart and if when we get back to England and Gemma really does kill us, I'll die happy knowing I got to spend these last six months with you and my last days married to you."

"OK, Guys, that was beautiful. shall we continue?" She asked and we both nodded.

"Ok, Harry do you take Y/N to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love her when times are tough? Do you promise to keep her safe from harm and make her happy any way you can? Do you swear to always be there for her when she needs you and be honest and truthful for as long as you both shall live?" Emma asked.

"I do." Harry grinned as he slipped a ring onto my finger. Another tear fell from my eyes and he wiped them away as Emma began again.

"And Y/N do you take Harry to be your lawful wedded Husband? Do you promise to love him when times are tough? Do you promise to keep him safe from harm and make him happy any way you can? Do you swear to always be there for him when he needs you and be honest and truthful for as long as you both shall live?

"I do." I whispered as I slipped the ring on his finger.

"Well then, by the power vested in me, by the State of California and the United States of America, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations you my now kiss your spouse." She smiled taking a step back.

I didn't even have time to think before Harry had his arms around my waist and had pulled me into a kiss. I chuckled against his lips and I kissed him softly but passionately. We pulled away and smiled at each other and turned to Emma who cleared her throat.

"I just need you to sign these papers and you can leave." She smiled. We smiled and we signed the papers. Harry asked her to take a few photos of the two of us and she did so before congratulating us again and we left after saying our thank you.

We walked out of the City Hall and we headed home.

"We did it, we got married." I smiled up at Harry as we walked to our apartment, that was a few blocks away.

"We did. Are you happy?" He asked me.

"The happiest." I grinned as we entered our apartment building.

"Good." He smiled.

"What about you, are you happy with the wife you chose?" I grinned as I stopped at our door and unlocked it.

"The happiest." he grinned back as he bent down and kissed me, sweeping my legs up and picking we up off the ground. He carried me through the door and kicked it shut.

"Welcome home wife." He smiled as he kissed me. He pulled away and smiled wide.

"God I love saying that, Wife, you're my wife, I love you wife." He smiled as he walked into the apartment and towards the bedroom where he placed me gently in the bed.

"I love you too husband." I chuckled as I lent up as kissed him softly as he lay me down on the bed when we...well you know what we did.

*Two Weeks Later*

It had been two whole weeks since Harry and I said 'I do' and last night we landed back in the UK. We hadn't told anybody about the wedding yet, mainly because we hadn't actually seen anybody and because we were just enjoying ourselves before we came home to tell everyone and have our heads chewed off by Gemma and Anne.

Last night Harry decided to stay at my place but this morning he left early to go see his mum and sister before we tell them and now I was stood outside his sisters house ready to see everyone.

I took a deep breath and smiled, this is gonna be the first time I'd seen my best friend in six months and a lot has changed. I cut my hair and dyed it, from blonde to a dark Brown but that was just after I left so she'd seen it on Skype but not in real life, face to face. I got my nose pierced and I got contacts. OH and let's not forget I got married!

To her brother.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called as I entered my best friends house. It was quiet so I dropped my bag by the stairs and kicked my shoes off, the blue converse I had gotten married in to be exact. "Gemma, you home?" I called when I got no reply. "Harry!"

"In the kitchen!" Gemma called back and as I entered I spotted Harry sitting on the counter, a huge smile on his face. Gemma was starring at him, she looked like she was pissed off.

"Hey, what's up Chuck!" I said as I walked in and jumped on the counter next to Harry, smiling softly up at Harry as he watched me.

"You will never guess what happened to my doofus brother while he was in the states!" Gemma sighed as she turned to me. I looked up at him and shrugged, he shot me a sly wink and a huge grin and I chuckled.

"What's he done this time?" I asked, knowing full well what he had done, I'd done the same.

"He got married!" She yelled. "Like he actually said 'I do' to some stranger." Gemma told me, Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"She isn't a stranger Gem, in fact I've known her for years." He told her. I watched as she shrugged.

"And I know for a fact you will love her...like a sister." Harry smiled as he jumped off the table and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around his sisters shoulder and moved her until she stood in front of me I grinned at her and waved "in fact now she is your sister." he gestured to me and I winked at him.

"What are you talking about Harry?" she asked, confused. "Why are you winking and him, Y/N?" she looked at the two of us as if we were crazy and I laughed.

I stuck out my left hand and Harry grabbed it and smiled, kissing it softly and walking over so he was stood in between my legs. Still holding my hand he turned so his back was leaning on the counter where I was and pulled his arm around his shoulder, he held it with his left and showing MY wedding ring and his to his sister who was watching.

"OH MY GOD...YOU MARRIED MY BEST FRIEND!!!" She yelled once she finally clicked.

"AND YOU, YOU MARRIED MY BROTHER!" she yelled pointing at me.

"Surprise?" I said but it came out as more of a question. She stood there in shook, quite for a second.

"How the hell did this happen? You go away for six months and you come back married, to my brother?" She asked. "what the hell?" she didn't look angry, mostly surprised.

"Well, I ran into his while I was in L.A. and by 'ran into' I told him I was in town and we grabbed coffee. I need someone I knew as I missed home too much and I knew Harry was in town so I called him." I told her.

"I asked her out on a few dates as friends and one night we got drinks afterwards and we drunkenly confessed our love we decided we would start dating." Harry continued. "That was what your third or fourth month in LA?" He asked and I nodded.

"How did that end in marriage?" Gemma asked.

"Well, we were chilling at my place and got to talking, I figured since we've known each other of over 17 years we already know most of the stuff other couples usually learn when dating so I kinda just skipped over the whole dating part and asked her to marry me. She said yes and the next day we were stood in the City Hall getting married." I told her.

"I'm sorry Gem, I know you're probably pissed at us. But I promise we talked this over so much before it happened. It wasn't just a spare of the moment thing, we really thought about this before we did it."

"Why didn't you just wait and get married here, with the family?" she asked us. now she looked sad.

"Because we were worried that our families would find a way to talk us out of it and we didn't want that to happen." Harry spoke up.

"Why would we do that, I have always wanted you two together, this is amazing news it just sucks that you got married with out us there." She told us. Before we could say another word there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" Harry called as he grabbed my legs, wrapped them around his waist and ran towards the door with me on his back.

"HARRY WHAT THE HELL!" I yelled gripping tight to him as he took off, scaring the crap out of me.

He didn't answer, he just let out a laugh as we reached the door. He opened the door to find Anne stood there, she looked shocked at first, probably at the sight of her daughters best friend on her sons back.

"Mum!" Harry grinned. He finally released my legs and I jumped down as he hugged his mum.

"Harry, I thought you were coming home next week?"she asked, pulling out of his hug.

"I decide to come home with Y/N" he told me.

"Are you two together now?" She asked pointing between the two of us Harry nodded and she let out a happy cry as she grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"Yeah, they're about as together as two people can be." Gemma told her as she walked passed us.

"And how that?" Anne asked, confused .

"Mum, don't kill me, and just remember how much you love Y/N before I tell you this." Harry said as he took his mums hands and guided her into the kitchen where Gemma was. I closed the door and followed behind, nervous about how she's going to react.

"Tell me what?" She said suspecting the worst.

"Well, you see Y/N and I we've know each other for so long and we know everything about her and I've been in love with her for so long, remember you used to tease me about it when we went round to her house with her dad?" He started.

"Yeah, I used to joke that you were both in love with each other and that you were gonna get married and have a baby. Y/N's dad would join in too."

"Yeah, well it's not so much a joke anymore." He smiled. He moved to stand by me again and wrapped his arms around my waist once more.

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

"Harry and Y/N got married while in LA." Gemma spilled. Anne's eyes went wide as she looked at me and her son.

"I don't understand." She said.

"Mum while in LA Y/N and I met up and we started dating and we got to talking and long story short we ended up in the city hall and we got married." Harry explained.

"OH MY GOSH REALLY?" She smiled wide. We both nodded and she dove at us, hugging us tight.

"Oh I'm so happy for you two." She gushed.

"Really, you're not upset at us?" I asked surprised.

"God no, why would I be unhappy?" She asked.

"Because we got married, without you." Harry guessed.

"Are you happy?"

"Well yeah, I married this amazing girl and she agreed to marry me." Harry smiled as he looked down at me and held a little tighter.

"Then is doesn't matter to me that I wasn't there as long as you both are happy." she smiled.

"Thanks mum." Harry smiled as he hugged her.

"Thanks Anne, and I promise anything big happens ever again I will personally tell you first." I grinned.

"You better, I already missed my sons wedding I don't want to be missing any thing else." She grinned.

"You're gonna hold that against us forever aren't you?" Harry asked.

"No, just until my first grandchild is born." She smiled.

"Seriously Anne, we only got married two weeks ago." I told her she just shrugged.

"Well firstly, you're part of the family anyway but now you're married to my son, I think it's OK for you to call me mum." She told me.

"Whatever you want mum." I grinned making her laugh.

"Mum, are you being serious about the first grandchild thing?"I asked and she nodded.

"Yes daughter in law, I am very serious." She winked.

"Well then, we best get working on that wife." Harry grinned wide.

"Later Husband, we are visiting your family and they do not need to hear about your plans for baby making." I joked when I saw Gemma wince a little at the mention of sex.

"Seriously, if you're going to be talking to each other like that, you can leave." She sulked.

"Yeah, if we get kicked out we can get on with the baby making." Harry joked as he stood up.

"gross, how about no, you will not defile my friend like this." Gemma cried as she stood up and dived on me.

"She's my wife...I've already defiled her, many many times." Harry told her. Gemma screamed and held her hands over her ears as she stood up and ran out of the room.

"Seriously what have married into?"I asked as Anne laughed.

"Welcome to the family Wifey." He smiled as he lent over and kissed me softly.

"You two are cute." Anne gushed as Harry and I pulled out of the kiss.

"Yeah we are." I smiled over at her. "Mum."

Masterlist

#Harry styles #imagines #one direction imagines

19 notes · View notes

humansunshineao3 · 6 years

Text

Fighting the Good Fight [Ch. 8]

Alec Lightwood just wants to run his Institute in peace.

This is the story that could’ve unfolded if Jace didn’t exist.

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Magnus/Alec, Clary/Izzy

Tags: Jace doesn’t exist, transgender alec lightwood, retelling of the TV show, Internalized Transphobia, Panic Attacks, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Lightwood Siblings Feels, Izzy and Alec are parabatai, Family Dynamics, homophobia

AUTHOR’S NOTE: TRIGGER WARNINGS

HOMOPHOBIA: The fallout from Clizzy's kiss is rough, as you probably all would've guessed. Maryse is a nightmare about it, but Alec calls her out.

EMOTIONAL ABUSE/MANIPULATION: Maryse manipulates/guilt trips Alec into things he doesn't really want to do. It's not fun, but keep in mind Alec does get a happy ending!

TRANSPHOBIA: Maryse is very flippant about Alec's surgery and dismissive of Alec's feelings on the matter. Lydia """"""accepts"""""" Alec but insists that he must get "all the surgery" before she'll consider him her husband/fiance.

INTERNALISED TRANSPHOBIA?: Alec refers to himself as 'not a real man', but he uses air quotes around it - he's being sarcastic/satirical. However, later, Magnus walks in on him wearing a sports bra and he refers to himself as 'not decent' because he's ashamed of his chest etc.

DEPICTIONS OF GRIEF: Simon dies, and Clary is obviously grieving.

RACISM: Lydia is racist. She calls downworlders 'demonic beings' and ignores Luke's concerns and expertise whenever possible. Alec calls her out on it, and Magnus calls her family ancestry out on it... It's iconic.

Previous Chapter

Episode 8: Bad Blood

Everyone in the room was staring at Izzy and Clary, utterly silent. Alec cringed at the sound of their lips smacking together, not daring to glance at his mother, who had stopped dead in the doorway. After a long, tense moment, the two women in the centre of the room seemed to come back to themselves, and broke apart.

“What did I just do?” Izzy whispered, her wide eyes fixed on Clary’s.

Clary pressed her lips together, her expression warm and relieved. It took her a minute, but Alec saw the realisation dawn on her face as she looked around at the shadowhunters staring at them. “Oh come on,” she laughed nervously, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “It’s the 21st Century.”

Izzy squeezed her eyes shut, and Alec, as freaked out as he was, couldn’t stop himself from leaping over the rail he’d been leaning on and crossing to her side. Izzy’s fingers had turned white from how hard she was gripping onto Clary’s hand, and Alec took her elbow.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I’m proud of you.” He didn’t know what the fuck they were going to do to fix the rage he could sense rolling off their mother over by the door, but he knew that Izzy needed to hear his voice, right now.

“Should I not have…?” Clary asked, the euphoria she’d felt at the kiss totally gone.

“Everyone, get back to work.” Maryse’s voice made all three of them tense, and the shadowhunters who’d been watching and whispering dispersed.

Izzy and Alec looked at each other for a long, long moment, squeezing each others’ hands, and then glanced at the doorway.

Maryse was gone.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy murmured, letting Alec go and pulling Clary into a hug.

Clary rubbed her back, looking over Izzy’s shoulder at Alec with a frown. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“I’ll go and talk her down,” Alec promised, though he could feel the anxiety blooming hot in his chest as Izzy let Clary go and turned to look at him. “I’ll fix this. You… This was the right thing. This is good.”

Izzy sighed, putting her hand on his chest. “Don’t promise her anything stupid. You don’t owe her a deal. This is my mess to fix.”

“I’ll check in on you later, yeah?” He nodded, unable to lie to her. He knew full well that the minute Izzy had kissed Clary in front of everyone, she’d inadvertently sealed his fate.

Maryse was in the office, and Alec felt ill at the memory of what had happened the last time he’d spoken to his mother, and the last time he was in this room. He didn’t knock, squaring his shoulders as he walked into the room. Maryse was looking out the window, hands knotted tightly together behind her back. Alec perched on the edge of the desk.

“Clary could be a good political match for Izzy if we bring down Valentine.” Alec stated. “Clary is a Fairchild. If she is the one to bring in Valentine she will be one of the most influential people in the Clave overnight. Izzy could do worse.”

“Have you forgotten,” Maryse said coldly, “that Miss Fairchild is a woman?”

Alec sighed, looking up at the bookshelves. It was easier, with the two of them looking away from each other. He could be businesslike, not let his feelings get in the way. “Yes, she is. Which means that Izzy and Clary’s partnership could go down in history. Izzy Lightwood will be remembered forever as the first openly sapphic shadowhunter. You always wanted a place in history.”

“Do you hear yourself, Alexander?!” Maryse sounded almost hysterical. “How on Earth are the Lightwoods meant to go on if Isabelle shacks up with a woman and you transition? Max will be our only hope, if we can hold on that long…”

“We don’t need to pop out babies to matter, mother. Izzy is worth more than her goddamn womb.” Alec insisted, “besides, they could adopt. Get a donor. Whatever. We have options. What we should be focussing on, what you should be focussing on, is making sure that Izzy is happy.”

Maryse shook her head. “Do you think Isabelle will be happy when she’s shut out of Clave missions? Do you think she’ll be happy to lose her career?”

“Oh, come on.” Alec snapped, getting to his feet and walking around the desk to look his mother in the eye. This was long overdue. “Stop pretending that this outrage is for our benefit. You are freaked out at the thought of your precious little girl being queer, just like you can barely look at your fucked up eldest whenever he reminds you that he has a goddamn vagina. Isn’t that right? Come on, mother, admit it.” He taunted, raising his chin. “You hate the sight of us.”

To her credit, Maryse looked horrified at Alec’s words, gripping his shoulders tightly. “I could never hate the sight of either of you. Ever. I’m scared, Alec. The two of you scare me. What you mean. My whole life, all I’ve been focussed on is getting you and Isabelle institutes of your own to run. And I just don’t know how that is going to happen with the two of you both so determined to ruin yourselves. You don’t know the Clave like I do, Alec. The second that your father and I are gone, they will cut you off. We are the only things standing between you and a deruning, do you understand that? They will use any excuse to get rid of the two of you.”

“Why?” Alec demanded, “why are they so threatened by us? We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Shadowhunter numbers are dwindling, year on year. If people like you see you and Izzy as examples, if more and more shadowhunters start getting into same sex relationships and transitioning, what do you think will happen to the birth rate of shadowhunters? This isn’t just about you and Izzy. The Clave will see it as a threat to the future of our race.” Maryse explained, rubbing up and down Alec’s arms. “If we were mundanes, I would support the two of you with my whole heart. But we don’t have that luxury, Alexander. You have to marry someone. You have to. Soon.”

Alec had to admit, he hadn’t thought of that. It was a horrific, heartless suggestion; that the Clave wanted to keep queer people in the closet, but… He could understand. Shadowhunters were needed to protect mundanes. They needed the numbers. The whole point of being a shadowhunter was that you put your own selfish desires aside for the greater good.

Izzy deserved to have happiness. Alec would have to protect her, work hard, climb to the top, to keep her safe from the Clave. He couldn’t bear to think of her living a lie.

“Who do you have in mind?” Alec asked quietly, taking a step back away from his mother.

Maryse inhaled sharply through her nose, and closed her eyes, letting the relief wash over her. She knew Alec would see sense. “We have a few possibilities. For now, focus on getting the Mortal Cup while your father and I vet the girls. The moment the Cup is in Clave hands, we’ll schedule your top surgery, and…”

“I’m only getting surgery if you let a warlock do it.” Alec told her, “I know you don’t think it’s possible, but I am not risking getting turned into a forsaken in a surgery I’m not even sure I want. That’s the deal. I’ll get top surgery if you find a warlock to do it. I’ll think some more about bottom surgery, look into my options. I promise.”

Maryse pursed her lips, but she could see that Alec wasn’t going to budge on it. “I’ll reach out to Ragnor Fell in Idris and see if he knows of any warlocks with medical training. You’ll feel so much better once you get your breasts removed, Alec, you’ll be so happy. You’ll be healed in no time and then we can start introducing you to some young women in Idris. I heard that the Lovelace girl is looking for a suitor, perhaps…”

Alec tuned out his mother and the excited light in her eyes, trying to focus on not vomiting. Trying to focus on breathing nice and slow. He couldn’t afford to lose his mind again and end up at-

Magnus’.

Alec’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt tears welling hotly in his eyes. He had to stay away from Magnus, he had to make sure he didn’t make another mistake. He had to focus on surgery, his duty, marrying a girl. The moment he had the cup, or the moment his mother knew he had the cup. He’d give himself a few days, to prepare. To mourn the life he could’ve had if he wasn’t a Lightwood.

“I’m late for training,” Alec said, his voice sounding far away to his own ears, and left the room on autopilot.

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

“I’m so glad we got away from that crowd, all those people…” Izzy murmured, tugging Clary into her room, “it’s so intense.”

Clary swallowed hard, sitting on the edge of Izzy’s bed. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

“Everything happened so fast,” Izzy sat down next to her, putting her head on Clary’s shoulder. “I didn’t have time to think. I thought that the demons had you, I thought for sure you were hurt, and then you were there, and looking at me like…”

“Like I care for you?” Clary asked, smiling into Izzy’s hair.

Izzy hummed. “Exactly. I just forgot about everything else; I knew I had to kiss you.”

“Well,” Clary laughed gently, “at least you skipped the awkward coming out dinner.”

Izzy snorted, her arm looping around Clary’s waist as Clary’s hand landed in her hair. “That’s one way to look at it. My parents are going to be furious. And Alec…”

“Hey,” Clary nudged her, ducking her head to make eye contact, “let’s worry about that later, okay? We have the mortal cup, we’re both crazy about each other… Life is good. Sure, maybe tomorrow will suck, but we’ll get through it. Promise.”

“Promise is a strong word, Fray. I’ll hold you to it.” Izzy said, her eyes soft with affection.

Clary held up her pinky finger. Izzy raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s a pinky swear. You lock your pinky fingers together and then promise on it. Damn, don’t shadowhunters have childhoods?”

“Barely,” Izzy smiled, twisting her pinky finger around Clary’s.

“I swear that we will get through whatever bullshit your parents throw at us, and we’ll make sure Alec doesn’t break his back bending over backwards for them.”

“That’s a big ask,” Izzy sighed, snuggling into the crook of Clary’s neck, “he’s got the world’s biggest martyr complex.”

“He’ll be alright.” Clary offered, her voice soft. Izzy’s hair was so soft between her fingers, the dark curls twisting around her knuckles as she slowly raked them through the long strands. Izzy hummed happily, sated and sleepy all of a sudden. “Hey, you want to lie down?”

“Yeah, you’re sending me to sleep.” Izzy laughed softly, pulling away to scoot up the bed, landing with her head on the pillows.

Clary followed, unclipping her bra under her shirt and tugging it out through her sleeve before lying down. “It’s been a long day. We’ll meet up with Alec tomorrow morning and decide what to do with the cup, but for now, we should get some sleep.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Izzy murmured, shifting closer to the other woman and slinging her arm around Clary’s waist. “I hope you’re a cuddly sleeper.”

“I can cope with it for you,” Clary smirked, knowing full well she was going to gently roll away the moment Izzy fell asleep. They lay facing each other, Clary’s fingers drawing gentle circles up and down Izzy’s back as Izzy stroked the soft skin of Clary’s waist where her shirt had ridden up. Their feet were tangled together, and Clary sighed out loud at the calm that washed over her. Perhaps she’d been a tad touch-starved.

Izzy was wide awake, now. She’d been so ready to fall asleep, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how soft Clary’s skin was, how pretty she looked with her eyes closed. Her eyelashes were so long, brushing against her cheeks. Izzy was struck with the absurd urge to squish the other woman’s face between her hands, and she smiled slightly, burrowing her nose into Clary’s cheek, her arm tightening around the other woman’s middle.

“God, you really are a cuddler,” Clary teased, the flat of her hand warm against Izzy’s back.

“Deal with it, Fray, you pinkie promised to never leave me.”

“That’s not exactly what the pinky promise was, Iz,” Clary snorted, brushing her lips against Izzy’s forehead.

“Well, you’re stuck with me, so suck it up.”

Clary laughed, hitching her leg over Izzy’s thigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll deal.” It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, being this close to Izzy, but Clary knew it would be difficult to sleep with Izzy’s body heat radiating into her.

It was worth it to hear the long, happy hum that Izzy let out.

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

“I think we should give the Cup to the Clave. We could use a fake to lure Valentine.” Izzy suggested the next morning, hands on her hips. “It’s too dangerous to dangle the real thing in front of him; if he got hold of it, it’d be the end of the downworld for sure.”

Clary shook her head. “If he realises it’s a fake before we get away from him, he’ll kill us all for sure. He’s no idiot, is he?”

“I’d rather him kill us than the entire downworld.” Izzy shrugged, “it would be a low price to pay.”

“No-one’s dying.” Alec insisted, staring at the screen that monitored the wards around the institute. “I hate to say it, but for now, I agree with Clary. The cup should be kept here, secretly. If no-one knows it’s here, it can’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“But you don’t think we should use it, do you?” Izzy asked, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Alec pressed his lips into a hard line. “I haven’t decided yet. All I know is that Clary has to bring in Valentine.”

“Why me?” Clary frowned.

“Because if you bring in Valentine, the Clave will consider you a hero, and you and Izzy will have an easier time of it. You and Izzy need to take the credit for this mission.”

“What about you? You need the favour with the Clave more than us if you’re going to date Magnus.” Izzy pointed out. Alec looked sharply at her.

“Forget Magnus. I can take him or leave him; you two need to be protected.” Alec insisted, running his hand through his hair.

“Uhhh… No. That’s bullshit.” Izzy argued. “You care about Magnus like I care about Clary. If I get my happy ending, you’re getting yours too.”

Alec groaned softly, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works, Iz. Something has to give, we have to compromise somewhere.”

“Hey,” Clary interrupted, catching Izzy’s elbow before she could launch into a tirade, “we’ll figure out what to do about our personal lives later. For now, we have to decide whether we’re going to go after Valentine by ourselves or involve the Clave.”

Before either Lightwood could open their mouth to argue their point of view, a claxon started going off in the ops centre. Alec looked back at the monitor.

“A demon-blooded creature tried to cross the wards.” He noticed, grabbing his bow. “Let’s go and check it out.”

Izzy and Clary followed him, taking angel blades off the weapons rack as they went. The three of them descended the stairs at the front of the institute, weapons raised and ready, their bodies coiled tight with tension. Izzy spotted him first, the vampire from the Hotel DuMort who’d let Simon go. He was standing in the shadows, carrying something big. Izzy wordlessly nudged Alec and Clary and pointed to his silhouette.

“Don’t shoot!” The vampire called, “I have something you want.”

Alec frowned, and lowered his bow slowly. “Come into the light.” He ordered, and the three of them watched as the vampire walked into the path, under the glow of the streetlamp.

He was carrying a body.

“I didn’t kill him!” The vampire insisted, walking towards them. Izzy growled under her breath, but Alec put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“Is it a mundane?”

“It’s Simon!” Clary screamed, her stomach dropping to her feet. The angel blade she’d been brandishing clattered to the floor as she sprinted towards the vampire, her green eyes wide with shock as she took in the pale stillness of her oldest friend, cradled in the vampire’s arms. “No… No… This isn’t real…”

“Clary,” Izzy said her name like a prayer, going to the redhead’s side. “I’m sorry.”

Alec hung back, regarding the vampire suspiciously. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I knew the mundane was important to the shadowhunters. And I want to expose Camille as the monster she is. My name’s Raphael Santiago. You need to arrest Camille.” Raphael insisted, “your pet mundane is not the first she’s killed.”

“Alright, let’s… Let’s get him inside,” Alec breathed, avoiding looking at Clary, who was sobbing into Izzy’s shoulder. “We’ll put him in the morgue; no-one will look there. Mr Santiago, if you could join us. You’re going to need to answer some questions.”

Raphael nodded, handing Simon off to Alec. “I’ll co-operate fully with your investigation.”

“Come on, Clary, let’s go inside,” Izzy coaxed Clary off her shoulder, squeezing her hand as they followed Raphael and Alec through the side door and down to the morgue.

Alec was used to death. As acting head of the institute, he’d seen a lot of it, investigated dozens of murders, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a stirring of genuine sadness at Simon’s passing. He glanced down at the mundane’s face as he placed him gently on the table, Clary rushing forward with a cardboard box to support his head. Simon had been kind to him, even when Alec pushed him away. He’d been a little clueless and sometimes got in the way, sure, but Alec had to admit to himself that he’d miss his anxious chattering.

Of course, Simon’s behaviour over the last couple of weeks made sense now. He must have gotten hooked on vampire venom when he was held at the Hotel DuMort. They should have noticed.

“People will be wondering what we found outside the perimeter,” Alec said quietly as Clary started stroking Simon’s hair. “I’ll go and tell them that we didn’t find anything. Nobody will come down here, you’ll have your privacy. Izzy, can you take a statement from Mr Santiago?”

Izzy nodded, and Alec headed back upstairs, his heart heavy. He’d failed Simon.

“I may be a vampire,” Raphael drawled, looking around the morgue, “but I was raised a good Catholic. The mundane deserves justice.” He crossed himself over Simon’s body, and Izzy rubbed Clary’s back.

“The vampires breached the Accords. This could be grounds for war if the Clave finds out.” She told Raphael, her eyes narrow.

Raphael regarded her coolly. “The vampires were not behind this. It was Camille. I have witnesses that will attest to that. She attacked Simon on her own; we thought that he was going to be a simple hostage. She was the one who bit him and got him hooked on venom.”

“Of course you would say that,” Izzy’s chest was heaving with emotion, “you don’t want to be implicated.”

“I could have gotten rid of the body and you’d never have found him. But instead I brought him here. The mundane was annoying, but he was brave. Even had the guts to try and stab me,” Raphael smiled faintly at the memory. “Like I said, he deserves justice, and I don’t want trouble with the shadowhunters.”

Izzy pursed her lips. Raphael had a point, but she also had a feeling that there was more in it for Raphael than justice.

“I warned him to stay away, but it was too late. Camille had given him a taste of her blood and he kept coming back for more. It was only a matter of time before she killed him.”

Clary looked up from Simon’s face with tears in her eyes. “The only reason he ever got a taste of Camille’s blood was because you brought him to her. You kidnapped him, you brought him to Hotel DuMort, you delivered him to a fucking sadistic vampire bitch with a knack for killing people and you think you’re totally blameless?!” She shouted, half-bent over Simon’s body. “You’re almost as bad as she is.”

“I never meant for this to happen. The mundane’s death will be on my conscience for…”

“His name is Simon!” Clary yelled, casting her eyes back down to his body. “Simon… please come back, please…”

“There is…” Raphael took a seat a nearby bench, his hands on his knees, “a way.”

Clary raised her head. “A way for him to come back?”

“Clary, no… Don’t listen to him,” Izzy urged, shaking her head.

“No, I have to! Can we bring Simon back?”

Raphael nodded. “He’s a fledgling. He drank Camille’s blood, so he’s in a state of transition. He could be resurrected. All we’d have to do is bury him and wait for him to emerge.”

Clary swallowed hard. “So I could have Simon back?” Her heart began to race, and she swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “Alive and breathing.”

“Clary, no, he wouldn’t be the same. He’d be a vampire,” Izzy explained. He wouldn’t be alive or breathing. It would be awful for him, he’d be out of control, unable to think past the bloodlust. He wouldn’t be your friend anymore.”

Raphael snorted. “You people really believe everything the Clave tells you, don’t you? Simon would be overwhelmed for a few days, but with the support of the clan he would be his annoying, nerdy self in a week.”

“You don’t know that!” Izzy retorted, “you can’t possibly know that.”

“I’m sorry, which one of us has actually been turned and which one of us has read about it in books?” Raphael spat. When Izzy didn’t respond, he turned his attention back to Clary. “It’s almost sunrise, so I have to go. Simon must be turned into a vampire tonight or staked through the heart to put him to rest.”

Clary swallowed hard, sniffing back tears. “And if I do neither?”

“His soul will be trapped for eternity.” Raphael answered, getting to his feet. “You have until sunrise to decide what to do with Simon. Whatever you decide, I hope that you will be sure to arrest Camille for his murder.”

Izzy breathed in slowly. “We’re not interested.”

“No, we are. Izzy, let me think about this.” Clary insisted, looking over her shoulder at the other woman. “This is my best friend, he’s my responsibility. It’s because of me that he’s dead, it’s my choice.”

Izzy sighed in resignation, and nodded. She knew that she’d feel the exact same way if it were Alec, at the end of the day.

“Here’s my number,” Raphael handed Clary a business card, “let me know what you decide to do.”

The moment Clary nodded he was gone, only a soft breeze left behind where he’d sprinted away. Clary breathed out a shaky sigh, and looked back down to Simon’s face. What would he want?

“Clary, I have to go talk to my parents, but I can make an excuse if you need me here,” Izzy told her gently. She’d ignored the text for the past ten minutes, but now that Raphael was gone she didn’t feel as unable to leave Clary’s side.

“Go,” Clary said quietly, “I want some time alone with him anyway.”

Izzy squeezed her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hair, before making her way up the stairs to the offices. Alec had texted her telling her that their parents wanted to discuss something with them. As if today could get any worse.

The three of them were already sitting in awkward silence when Izzy made it to the office. Alec was sitting on the couch, and their parents were stood together behind the desk. Izzy nodded in apology to the two of them before quickly taking a seat next to Alec.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Robert eyed Izzy warily, “we have some things to discuss. Isabelle, your mother told me what happened with Miss Fairchild.”

Izzy swallowed hard, reaching for Alec’s hand. He took it and squeezed it tightly. “I care about her.”

“That much is obvious,” Robert nodded, eyes on the desk in front of him. “But you have to understand the implications for the rest of us if you decide to pursue a relationship with her. If you do go ahead and choose to be with Miss Fairchild, then the four of us have to depend on Max to give us a political union. Now, that would mean-”

“Clary is from a pure shadowhunter family; why is she not a viable political match?” Izzy demanded, though she knew the answer.

“Because a viable political match is not viable if you cannot produce an heir.” Robert answered patiently. “Now, it is not the act of homosexuality that worries me, I’m not homophobic. I just-”

Alec and Izzy both snorted, glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

“Listen to your father,” Maryse told them severely. “As I explained to Alec yesterday, the Clave will not accept couples that cannot produce children purely because we need the numbers to survive. Now, luckily for you and the rest of us, Alec has agreed to an arranged marriage.”

“You did what?!” Izzy exclaimed, ripping her hand out of Alec’s. “You promised me you wouldn’t promise them anything stupid!”

Alec grimaced. “Technically I didn’t.”

“Alec, you can’t. Are you fucking insane?!”

“This is Alec’s decision,” Robert pointed out, “and he made it for all of us. I for one am proud of his self-sacrifice in this matter. It won’t be easy for you, kid, I get that. I know you have a lot of anxiety about surgery, but I’m sure that you’ll be happier in the long run.”

Alec kept his head down, not willing to look any of them in the eye. He heard Izzy sniffle next to him, and his chest tightened.

“You’re going to force your son into dangerous surgery he doesn’t want, marry someone he doesn’t love, and you have the audacity to say that he’ll be happier for it? Fuck the fuck off, Dad.” Izzy stood up, her eyes teary but determined. “You disgust me. The both of you disgust me. You don’t know either of us, not really. You don’t give a shit whether we’re happy or not. You just want to cling onto power. That’s all that any of this is about. The only reason you ever accepted Alec was because it was good for the family image to have a firstborn son to carry on the family name, because that matters more than anyone’s wellbeing. Honestly, I would rather get deruned and kicked out of this fucking institute than watch Alec throw his life away on some prissy Idris society girl. I won’t fucking do it, I won’t!”

“I want to, Iz.” Alec said quietly. “I want to do this.”

Izzy deflated a little, looking down at her brother. “You don’t mean that.”

“All I ever wanted was to be normal.” Alec pressed his lips together. “I just want to run an institute. I want a career, and a family. I want those things. And I can have them. We’re going to find a warlock doctor to operate so the risks will be minimal, and… I promise, I’m okay with doing this for you, for all of us. It’s my duty. It’s my honour to fulfill it.” Alec reached for her hand. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t want to do it.”

Izzy’s lower lip wobbled. “But Magnus…”

“Who’s Magnus?” Maryse demanded, but the siblings ignored her.

“It never could have worked. It’s okay. I’m sure that I’ll get along great with whoever I end up marrying. We’ll have a solid relationship that isn’t all dramatic and romantic, it’ll work for me. So please, calm down. I’m fine.” Alec smiled weakly. “I need your support in this, Iz.”

Part of Izzy wanted to slap some sense into him, but the bigger part wanted to bury her face in his chest and cry and thank him for sacrificing his happiness for hers. She could never, ever repay him for what he was about to do for her; the least she could do was be there for him on the next steps of this fucked up journey he was taking. She took his face in her hands. “I love you so much, Alec. You know that, right?”

Alec nodded, his smile a little more genuine, and stood up to gave her a hug.

Maryse and Robert looked at each other, relieved that Alec had managed to talk their daughter round. “There is one more thing,” Robert told the two of them, which made them pull away from each other and sit back down on the couch. “The Clave is concerned that Miss Fairchild is corrupting the professionalism of our institute. After they heard about the display in the ops centre, they decided to send an envoy.”

“They’ll be coming to observe us, how we operate, and to take over the investigation into Valentine. Mostly they’re coming to scrutinise our leadership, so you two need to make sure not to do anything to cause the Clave to doubt us.” Maryse insisted.

Alec squeezed his eyes shut. Of course. As if the past few days hadn’t been shitty enough. Of course the Clave would send an envoy when they’ve got a vampire fledgling hidden in their morgue.

“When are they coming?” Alec asked tonelessly.

“Any time in the next couple of days,” Robert answered, straightening his tie. “Alec, I know I don’t have to remind you not to out yourself while they’re here. Only a few people in the Clave know about you, and the less people in Idris gossiping about you, the better your chance of finding a marriage.”

Izzy glared at their father as he walked out of the room, clamping her jaws shut so she wouldn’t yell again. Alec looked dead inside; he needed her attention more. “It’s gonna be okay, Alec. We’ll get through this.”

“Yeah,” Alec sighed heavily, standing up from the couch. “It can’t possibly get any worse, after all.”

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

"Clary, please, please, answer the phone. I can't take it anymore, I have to go to Camille. Something's happening to me, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I need to know. Camille could have answers. I don't know what else to do. Please, please pick up the phone."

Clary sniffed back another round of tears as the message finished, and she looked back down at Simon's body. "I'm so sorry, Simon. This is all my fault. If I'd never gotten involved with the shadowhunters, you'd never have met Camille." She shook her head, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes. "I have to bring you back. I can't... I can't let you go, I need you. Your Mom needs you. I have to bring you back. You understand, right? This wasn't your time, it's not right. It's not fair."

She paused, like she was expecting someone to answer. There was no-one else in the room; Clary was sitting there alone, clutching Simon's cool hand. She took a shaky breath, and nodded to herself.

"Yeah, I'm gonna bring you back. I have to."

Izzy would have a lot to say about it, Clary knew, but she couldn't do anything else. She slipped Raphael's business card out of her pocket and sent him a message, telling him to meet her in the nearby cemetery at sundown, and to bring a shovel. He texted back mere moments later to tell her she had made the right decision.

She didn’t bother replying to Raphael, and instead called the one person she knew would stand by her side no matter what.

“Clary?” Luke answered on the second ring, as dependable as always. “Are you alright? Is there a problem with the Cup?”

Clary swallowed hard, trying not to let the pressure in her eyes build into tears again. “Luke, something terrible has happened. Simon’s… H-he’s dead. Simon’s dead!” She whimpered, pressing her hand to her mouth.

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the phone. “I’m so sorry, Clary.” Luke said, after a moment. “How did it happen?”

“Camille from the Hotel DuMort got him addicted to her blood. He went looking for a fix and she killed him. In cold blood.”

Luke let out a snarl that was definitely not human in origin. “There have been rumours about her for years. You want me to have the wolves bring her in?”

“I just… I need to talk to you about becoming a downworlder.” Clary said quietly, “you’re the only one I know who’s been through it.”

“You’re thinking of burying Simon and letting him turn?” Luke guessed. He sighed when Clary didn’t answer. “It’s hard. He could lose his family. But… If he has you… Then I think that he could do it. If it wasn’t for the friendship of your Mom, I never would have made it as a wolf. But thanks to her, I did okay.”

“You did more than okay, Luke,” Clary sniffled, smiling sadly. “You’re the alpha.”

Luke chuckled. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“So you think I should turn him?”

“I think that if you do turn him, it should be because it’s what Simon would want. Not what makes it easier for you.” Luke answered. “Uh, I have to go… The wolves are restless, I think there’s something encroaching on our territory… I’ll meet you later, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Clary said softly, before hanging up the phone.

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

"Hey, Max, where do you think you're going?" Alec spotted Max skulking around the edge of the ops room, looking guilty.

Max turned to look at him, a sheepish look on his face. "I want to use a real weapon for training. I'm sick of those stupid wooden daggers, they're rubbish."

"When Izzy says you're ready, you can use real weapons, but until then you have to listen to what we tell you." Alec pointed out, squatting down so he was eye level with his brother. "I did the exact same thing as you when I was a kid, stole a weapon to practise with, and look..." Alec held up his hand, showing Max a faint scar on his palm.

"Did it hurt?" Max asked.

"Oh, yeah. A lot. Had to have stitches and everything." Alec told him, and Max grimaced, taking a small dagger out of his pocket and putting the hilt in Alec's hand. Alec smiled, and ruffled Max's hair.

They both looked up as they heard a portal forming in the doorway, and Alec's stomach dropped to his feet as Valentine sauntered out with a faint smile on his face. Shoving Max behind him, Alec unglamoured his bow and fired an arrow right at Valentine's face.

To Alec and Max's horror, Valentine caught it in midair effortlessly.

As Alec notched another one, Valentine pulled out his stele and slipped it across a glamour rune. Alec dropped his arms as the silhouette of Valentine obscured and was replaced by a severe-looking blonde woman, dressed in a practical gray business suit.

"I'm Lydia Branwell," she announced, "envoy from the Clave."

Alec and Max looked at each other, their eyebrows raised in matching expressions of shock. Lydia walked towards them and held out her hand towards Alec. "Yes, welcome to the New York Institute. We didn't expect you until tomorrow. That was… Quite the entrance."

"I wanted to test your reactions," Lydia answered, shaking Alec's hand. "You must be Alexander Lightwood."

"Yes, sorry, that's me. My parents are in the office, I can take you if you'd like."

“No need, I’m here,” Maryse spoke up, walking down the steps towards them. Izzy was hot on her heels, still looking emotionally drained from the events of the day.

“Maryse, the Clave has instructed me to take temporary control of this Institute, just until we can ascertain what exactly has gone wrong here.” Lydia explained placidly, and Alec swallowed hard, exchanging a worried look with Izzy.

“Well, how on Earth are you supposed to assess our leadership if we are no longer the leaders?” Maryse demanded, folding her arms.

Lydia made herself welcome, walking across the ops centre to look at the various screens showing demon activity and shadowhunter movements, pointing her stele at the monitors every now and then. “You can take any issues up with the Clave. I’m just here to assess what I see. And in order to do that, I’ll need full clearance.” She looked around, frowning as she noticed a very notable absence. “Where is Clarissa Fairchild? I was under the impression that Alexander had been tasked with monitoring her.”

Alec tilted his head to the side. “It’s Alec, and at present she’s in the field. Training with the rest of our interns. I was headed out to go and check on them when you arrived.”

Lydia scoffed, walking towards Alec slowly. “You’re telling me that you’ve allowed Clarissa Fairchild, Valentine’s daughter, out and about on the streets of New York?”

“Isn’t she also your cousin?” Izzy pointed out scathingly.

Lydia turned to look over her shoulder at the other woman. “Distant cousin,” she sneered. “Get her back here as soon as possible. She will not be allowed outside of the institute as long as I’m in command.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Maryse assured her, “Miss Fairchild is in good hands.”

“Oh, I hope so, for your sake.” Lydia replied coldly.

Alec’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, making him jump a little. Everyone who ever texted him was in the room, except Magnus. He fished his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see a message from Luke. His eyebrows creased as he read the message, and he jogged over to the monitor.

“Here’s something you should see,” he murmured, bringing up the satellite imaging over the docks. “Something has attacked the Jade Wolf, where the New York pack live. Luke Garroway and his wolves managed to take it down, but they have no idea what it is. Most likely it’s one of Valentine’s experiments.” Alec flicked the photos Luke had sent him from his phone to the screen in front of them. The humanoid was grey and bled green viscous fluid, and was very clearly dead.

“The werewolves’ headquarters? You’re in contact with Lucian Greymark?” Maryse looked utterly confused.

“It’s inappropriate for a wolf to have direct contact with a shadowhunter. Mr Greymark should have reported this to the Clave.” Lydia pointed out.

“And it would’ve taken the Clave a week to send someone,” Alec snapped. “It’s my job to protect the mundanes and downworlders of this city from demonic beings, and that’s what I’m going to do. Has the Clave got a problem with that, Miss Branwell?”

Lydia’s eyebrow quirked. “Downworlders are demonic beings.”

Alec laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, great, just what we need, another heavy handed racist running this place looking for another heavy handed racist.”

“Alec-” Maryse warned.

“No! I’m going to take a look at this thing. You can come with me or not, I don’t give a shit. I’m doing my job, and if the Clave and Little Miss Valentine here have a problem with it, you can kiss my fucking ass. See you.” Alec turned on his heel, leaving Izzy, Maryse and Lydia staring after him in disbelief.

After a moment, Lydia trotted after him, catching up with him at the door. “I’m not a racist, you know.”

Alec said nothing, just looked up at the sky as he slowed his pace to allow Lydia to walk beside him without jogging.

“I admire your values but you have to follow protocol, that’s what got you in trouble with the Clave.” Lydia pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s why the Clave hates me. Because of my passion and unorthodox methods.” Alec muttered sarcastically.

Lydia frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alec��s eyebrow quirked. “You really don’t know?”

“Oh, you mean because your parents used to be in the Circle?” Lydia asked grimly. “I’m sure they don’t judge you based on-”

“Wait.” Alec stopped in his tracks. “My parents used to be in the Circle?!”

Lydia’s eyes widened, and she looked at Alec apologetically. “Did they conceal that from you?”

“I… They were in the Circle?” Alec had always known that his parents had a certain level of disdain for downworlders, but he didn’t think it was any worse than any other shadowhunter family… Apparently he was wrong.

“Yes, but they turned against Valentine before he fell. They were double agents at the end of the uprising, so they were spared of punishment.” Lydia explained, “they were… I suppose you could argue that they also helped bring Valentine down.”

It all made sense now, Alec realised. The pressure, the way that Maryse and Robert had sought to make sure that all three of their children kept their noses squeaky clean, why they were so keen to make Alec into the perfect heir… They wanted redemption. They wanted Alec to make people forget their dark past.

They were using him to cover up their mistakes.

“It doesn’t change how I feel about the Lightwoods,” Lydia insisted, taking his elbow. Alec pulled it out of her grasp, his nose wrinkling a little. “Your family has always had a strong alliance with mine. They’ve been a powerful force in the shadow world, and praised for their devotion. I admire that.”

“Devotion?” Alec laughed. “Some devotion.” The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and Alec glowered, looking away with a cough. “It shouldn’t have surprised me. It figures, really.”

“Anyway,” Lydia murmured as Alec started walking off again, grappling for a change in subject, “ I can see why all the girls in Idris are clamouring to meet you. You’re very… Tall. And brooding. I’m told that’s what girls are supposed to like.”

“And you don’t?” Alec asked, eyes flicking around the shipping containers as they passed into the docks. For all they knew, another one of those monsters could still be lurking around.

Lydia shrugged. “I’ve already had my love story. And I hear yours is just beginning…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec had honestly never been so uncomfortable in his life.

“You’re looking for a wife. Or did I hear wrong?”

Shit.

“Uhhhhh…”

Lydia smiled, tangling her fingers together behind her back. “Let me guess. Not your idea?”

“Not even close,” Alec snorted.

“My parents tried to set me up too. Luckily I actually loved the guy they chose.” She explained. “But… He passed away last year. We were going to run the Lisbon Institute together, but then it was all ripped away. My love… My dream job...”

“I’m sorry,” Alec answered, the silence between them growing heavy. “Is the marriage thing the only rumour about me in Idris?” He pressed tentatively, watching his feet as they walked along.

“It’s the only one I’ve heard. Why?”

Alec pursed his lips, glancing over at her. “You sure you want to know?”

Lydia shrugged, though curiosity was evident in the way her eyes were darting to his face and away, over and over again. “I’m not here to judge you personally, just your leadership skills.”

“We’ll see,” Alec muttered, stopping and folding his arms. “I’m transgender. I don’t have a dick. I have boobs. I’m,” he raised his fingers in quotation marks, “not a real man.”

“Oh…” Lydia looked puzzled, her eyes sweeping down and back up Alec’s body. “I see.”

“My parents are pressuring me into surgery and marriage so I can be a useful heir,” Alec looked away from her, the confusion on her face making him anxious. “They don’t want to tell my future wife about it. It feels like lying. Well, it is lying, by omission. But then no-one would want me like this, so… What can you do?”

“That’s not true,” Lydia said quietly. Alec looked back at her, raising his eyebrow. “It wouldn’t bother me. And… Not every shadowhunter woman is particularly bothered about having children, so… You never know.”

Alec frowned. “Why are you trying to spare my feelings?”

“I know I made a bad first impression but I’m really quite liberal,” Lydia sniffed, shrugging a little as she started walking once more. “I figure what people do in private is none of my business. You’re a good shadowhunter, devoted to your family, and… You look like a man to me. So… What’s the difference?”

Alec watched her for a moment, rooted to the ground with a nauseating mixture of shock and unease. After a moment of inexplicable fear, he remembered himself, and rushed after her into the Jade Wolf. Luke was looking at Lydia with open distrust, but he relaxed a little as he saw Alec come through the door. Lydia was already bent over the creature on the floor, apparently having ignored the werewolves hovering uneasily in their own space.

“Hi, Luke. We came as quickly as we could.” Alec shook the alpha’s hand, nodding briefly to him before joining Lydia at the creature’s side.

“Honestly I didn’t expect you until tomorrow. Thanks for coming, Alec.” Luke answered. “It looks like a forsaken, but-”

“It definitely used to be a human, and it has runes. It’s a forsaken.” Lydia assessed, and Luke gave Alec a meaningful look.

“As I was saying, it was a lot stronger than your average forsaken. It took five wolves to take that thing down. And it seemed to be after something, it seemed focussed, like it had a plan. Why would a forsaken wander in here by itself? Not like it fancied some Moo Shu… This is Valentine’s work, no doubt. I think he’s after me. I used to be his parabatai, until he literally fed me to the wolves. Would make sense for him to want to get rid of me now that he’s gaining power again.”

Lydia hummed, not looking up at Luke as he spoke. “We’ll take the body back to the institute, do a full autopsy.”

“Hold up.” Luke put his hand out, and Lydia finally raised her eyes to look at him, “I get that I called you… Well, I called Alec… But what I didn’t want is someone to come down here and just take over. I’m trying to catch Valentine, this body could help the pack find him.”

“Coming in and taking over is kind of Lydia’s thing,” Alec told him, the two men quirking eyebrows meaningfully at each other as Lydia’s gaze swept over the body on the floor.

“I know I come across as abrasive!” Lydia said crisply, “but we all want to catch Valentine, and we have better resources than you do here in this… Restaurant. We’re all on the same side, here.” She made eye contact with Luke for the first time since she walked in. “Can we agree on that?”

Alec nodded at Luke. “We have an expert forensic pathologist, highly trained in all the creatures of the shadow world. We’ll tell you what we find.”

“If it doesn’t compromise the security of the Institute,” Lydia amended quickly, and Alec sighed.

Luke pursed his lips. “Fine. You win.”

Back at the institute, Alec and Lydia heaved the forsaken corpse onto the examiner’s table. Lydia bent over it, looked at it more closely. “We need to make sure magic wasn’t used to create this,” she told Alec, “are you on good terms with the nearest High Warlock, as you are with the werewolf alpha?”

Alec pursed his lips. “I know a High Warlock. I’m not sure if he’s the closest one, but he maintains our wards and has helped us in our efforts to bring down Valentine. He’s trustworthy.”

“As trustworthy as warlocks ever are,” Lydia sighed, straightening up. “Go on, who is he?”

“Mag-” Alec swallowed hard. He sensed it was a bad idea to bring Magnus here, with Lydia overseeing everything, but Magnus really was the best warlock Alec knew of who’d come on short notice. “Magnus Bane.”

Lydia hummed, a smile appearing on her face. “You know, I must admit, I admire Bane’s work. My ancestor was there when Bane created the portal. It’s a treasured family story.”

“Oh. Wow, I had no idea Magnus created the portal.”

“You’re on first name terms? So you know him well, then?” Lydia asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

“Yes, yes, sort of… Magnus is very, um… Quite magical.” A beat of silence passed between them, and Alec glanced at Lydia’s expression, feeling his cheeks heat. “You know, he’s very good… At magic. Very impressive.”

“So I’ve heard…” Lydia said slowly, her eyes slightly narrow as she looked Alec up and down, like she had when he told her that he was transgender. “Anyway… Send him a fire message. While I’m sure your sister is a very capable pathologist, I imagine Mr Bane will be able to see things that she won’t.”

Alec nodded, grateful for the excuse to get the hell out of there.

He needed to work some shit out, preferably on a punching bag.

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

Magnus was disappointed when he portalled to the institute and Alec wasn’t there to greet him. He’d been hoping, since the fire message bore Alec’s signature, that it was Alec who wanted to see him, but instead a short, slightly evil-looking blonde person advanced on him with their hand stuck out. Magnus almost leapt straight back into his portal and went home.

“I’m Lydia Branwell, envoy from the Clave,” they told him, and Magnus quirked an eyebrow at her, tentatively taking her hand. “We have a corpse for you to look at.”

“Right…” Magnus said slowly, the name Branwell ringing a bell, but then most shadowhunter family names did. “I assume I’m going to be paid for my expertise?”

He was not doing this for free unless Alexander was involved.

“Of course, of course!” Lydia insisted, “the Clave would never take your services for granted, Mr Bane.”

Magnus fought the urge to scoff. “Of course not,” he answered smoothly, allowing Lydia to lead the way to the autopsy room.

“I just wanted to say, your work on the portal was incredible, it changed the shadow world forever. My ancestor was actually there when you-”

“Oh, yes. Cecil Branwell. Yes… That’s why your name is familiar...” Magnus nodded, “if I recall, he attempted to take credit for it,” he mused, “and only agreed to put my name in the history books because I threatened to curse his firstborn…”

He smirked at the look of horror on Lydia’s face.

“I’m joking, Miss Branwell. I never threatened to curse his firstborn.” He assured her, and she laughed nervously.

“I was going to say…”

“I actually just threatened to expose his admittedly impressive collection of werewolf porn.” Magnus hummed, leaving Lydia standing shocked outside the laboratory as he glided inside.

He was happy to see Isabelle standing there all dressed up in her lab clothes, but he couldn’t help the pang of sadness that Alec was nowhere to be seen.

“Magnus!” Izzy smiled, a scalpel already in her hand, “looking sharp, as always.”

“I could say the same to you, my dear,” Magnus smiled, rolling up his sleeves. “Now what do we have here?”

Izzy frowned, looking back down at the forsaken. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but it’s some form of forsaken. Someone did something extra to it, but I can’t figure out what. Think you can help?”

“I can certainly try,” Magnus nodded. The corpse certainly looked like a forsaken at first glance, and Magnus hummed as he waved his hands over it, assessing it with magical probes.

“I waited until you came before I cut anything up,” Izzy told him, “I didn’t know if it would affect your assessment. I can’t wait to get my hands on that thing.”

Magnus smirked, “speaking of which, how is Alexander?”

Izzy snorted, and elbowed him gently in the ribs. “He’s… Honourable to the point of stupidity. You know what he’s like.”

“That sounds about right,” Magnus nodded. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“He’s had a lot on his mind…” Izzy answered diplomatically, not wanting Magnus to hear Alec’s surgery news from her.

“It’s just so hard to tell if Alexander’s even interested.” Magnus sighed, “I mean… I can’t fathom why he wouldn’t be…”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but my brother is not exactly warm and fuzzy,” Izzy pointed out, “just give him time. He’ll come through, I’m sure of it. There’s just too much going on in his head right now. Maybe… You should go and find him, when we’re done here.”

Magnus finished up his magic, and grabbed a pen from the counter. “I’m done. Work your own magic,” he smiled. “But yes, I was planning to. I haven’t seen him since he practically ran out of the loft the other day. He seemed stressed.”

“Stress is his middle name these days. Alexander Stress Lightwood.”

“Then perhaps a few dozen well-worded compliments from me would lift his mood.” Magnus reasoned, and Izzy smiled over her shoulder at him as he wrote his notes.

“I know they would.” She looked back at where she was cutting into the forsaken’s rib cage. “Don’t give up on him, Magnus. He’s a knucklehead, but I think that he could make you really happy, you know? He has a big heart.”

Magnus’ eyes warmed where they were fixed on the page before him. “Oh, don’t worry, Isabelle. I’m no quitter. Speaking of which… I’m going to deliver the preliminary findings to the rightful head of this institute. Any ideas where I might find him?”

“He said he needed to punch something, so try his bedroom. He doesn’t like to work out in the training room.” Izzy told Magnus, apparently distracted by something interesting in the body. Magnus hummed, and made his way out of the laboratory. Thankfully, Miss Branwell had disappeared.

It was easy to find Alec’s room; a simple spell to sense the auras of people in the building and Magnus could feel Alec’s energy, vibrating with… Conflict? Unease? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and it made Magnus quicken his steps ever so slightly. He could rhythmic dull bangs coming from behind the closed door of Alec’s quarters, and knocked three times, his report tucked under his arm. The bangs stopped, and Alec called for him to come in.

Evidently he didn’t expect Magnus to be the one looking for him, and he yelped loudly when he caught sight of the other man, wrenching his arms across his body. “Magnus! What are you..?!”

Magnus was frozen for a moment, eyes going wide at the sight of Alec glistening with sweat, wearing baggy workout trousers and a white sports bra translucent with perspiration, his bare arms pumped from the punchbag, his abs framing a delicious-looking happy trail that slipped down...

Remembering himself, he spun around so his back was to Alec, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be… So hot. I mean… Sweaty. I mean… Working out.”

Smooth.

“I should be wearing a shirt, it’s my fault, I’m… Not decent.” Alec muttered, grabbing for a t-shirt and yanking it over his head.

“There’s nothing indecent about you, Alexander,” Magnus insisted, still facing the wall.

Alec smiled a little at that, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. “You can turn around now.”

“For the record,” Magnus said sheepishly as he turned around, “you’re seriously, seriously lovely to look at. I’d even go so far as to use the word dreamy.”

“Did you come here just to compliment me?” Alec teased, unwrapping the boxing tape from his hands.

Magnus grinned. “Well, yes. But also to deliver this report on the preliminary autopsy findings to the head of the institute. I’m always the absolute height of professionalism.”

“Oh, of course,” Alec snorted, looking at the folder in Magnus’ hands, “but I’m not the head of the institute. And I never will be.”

Magnus’ eyes trailed down to Alec’s arms again, watching as a bead of sweat slipped down the inside of his bicep.

“Magnus, it’s like…” Alec sighed, and Magnus looked back up at his face. “It’s like my whole life has been a lie. Everything I’ve ever known about my family, about my heritage, about my duty, it’s… Gone. Just like that. And now I don’t know what to do. Who am I supposed to be pleasing?”

Magnus frowned. “Alexander, you’re supposed to be pleasing yourself. No-one can live your life for you.”

“I’ve done everything for my parents, for the Clave, to honour them. And… They’ve let me down, Magnus. Again and again. I’ve done everything that they’ve asked.”

“Maybe…” Magnus smiled gently at the younger man, “maybe you should start living for yourself. Do what’s in your heart.”

Alec sighed, running his hand through his sweaty hair. “You know… You’re right. Why are you always right? It’s annoying.”

Magnus smirked, patting Alec’s shoulder. Damn, that was muscled, he thought, inhaling sharply, “comes with 400 years of life experience.”

Alec chuckled, and folded his arms. He wanted to say something more, something… He felt like he knew what he had to do, and he knew that Magnus wasn’t going to like it, but right now he wasn’t confident enough in his decision to explain himself to the other man, so he just kept quiet, enjoying the soft look on Magnus’ face.

“I should go,” Magnus announced, “people might talk if America’s sluttiest warlock hangs around in Alexander Lightwood’s bedroom for too long…”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” Alec replied, eyes fond, and Magnus shrugged.

“I own my sluttiness. I’m never going to apologise for enjoying sex,” he insisted, “besides, it’s fun to mess with shadowhunters’ fragile sensibilities. You should’ve seen the look on Miss Branwell’s face when I told her that her ancestor was a racist prick.”

Alec grinned. “Man, I wish I’d been there to see that.”

“It was poetic, really.”

Alec bit his lip, taking the report from Magnus’ hands. “Thanks for stopping by, Magnus. You always know what to say. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime you need to talk, Alec. I’m here. You know that.” Magnus nodded, letting himself out of the room.

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

Clary felt sick watching Luke carry Simon through the graveyard. Simon was like a son to Luke, and Clary knew that no-one would understand Simon’s struggle when he rose like Luke would. While Clary was confident that Simon would want this, that he wouldn’t want to be ripped away from his family and friends like that, she still felt a sense of dread at having to explain to him exactly how he’d been brought back to life, and the consequences of her decision.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Raphael told her as they approached him. “Not only will Simon get another chance at life, he’ll help us to imprison a very dangerous vampire.”

“Save your political agenda, vampire,” Luke spat, putting Simon gently down on the ground and taking the shovel from Clary, “Simon deserves more respect than that.”

Clary nodded, running her thumb over Simon’s prayer shawl. “He deserves forever. And we’re going to give it to him.”

Luke straightened up as he heard a vibration in the air, and Raphael rushed to Simon’s side as Camille stopped a few dozen feet away from them. Clary pulled out her angel blade with her free hand, glowering at the woman who’d murdered Simon. Camille didn’t look half as dangerous as she actually was; she was slight, skinny even, with impractical stiletto shoes and a slinky red cocktail dress. The only thing that made her different to any rich bitch living in SoHo was the pair of gleaming white fangs brushing her lower lip.

“What do you want?” Clary demanded.

Camille sneered at Simon’s body. “I want my property back.”

“Your property?!” Clary snarled, rage broiling inside her and pushing her to walk purposefully towards Camille, angel blade outstretched. “He was a living, breathing human being and you took him from me.”

“If you’ll just hand him over, I’ll be on my way.” Camille sighed, barely sparing Clary or her weapon a glance. Luke hurried to hold Clary back, tugging her back towards Simon.

“Let me at her, Luke, I swear to God, I’m going to rip her hair out,” Clary growled, struggling against Luke’s iron grip.

“She will snap your neck before you could get close.” Luke insisted.

“You’re not laying a hand on him.” Raphael told Camille, “he’s going to make sure that the Clave puts you away for good.”

Camille pursed her lips. “Fine. I tried to do this the nice way.”

With a snap of her fingers, dozens of vampires appeared out of the shadows, surrounding them on all sides. Clary sniffed and raised her chin, unphased. If she was going to be ripped apart by vampires, so be it. She’d rather that than leave Simon’s body to be dumped somewhere where it would never be found.

“I’m glad you brought everyone here to witness your demise,” Raphael taunted, “Camille killed this mundane. She brought the shadowhunters to our door. She’s been breaking the Accords for too long, now. She will lead us to ruin. We can get rid of her. I have all the proof I need, right here.”

Camille laughed, though her eyes betrayed a hint of fear. “Are you trying to overthrow me?”

“If you kill Luke and I to get to Simon, the shadowhunters and the wolves will destroy you.” Clary pointed out to the assembled vampires, which made a few of them look at each other with uncertain expressions. “You will be obliterated by the Clave, if you aren’t ripped apart by Luke’s pack first.”

The vampires all moved at once, Raphael included, and closed in on Camille.

“Don’t listen to them! Raphael doesn’t know the first thing about leading; he’s a child. And as for the shadowhunter and her little lapdog…”

“You will destroy us in pursuit of your own selfish desires,” Raphael growled.

“We can fix this! If we just get rid of the body, this mundane means nothing!” Camille insisted.

Clary clenched her jaw, moving so quickly that Luke didn’t have time to grab her before she was standing in front of Camille. “Simon means nothing? Over my dead body.” Her fist sailed through the air and landed with a satisfying crunch on Camille’s nose, sending her reeling back into the crowd of vampires. Apparently, that show of strength from Clary was enough for them, and they surrounded Camille with a loud hissing sound, restraining her and dragging her back to Hotel DuMort as a team.

Raphael stayed behind, much to Clary’s surprise. He picked up one of the shovels and helped Luke dig Simon’s grave. While they worked, Clary knelt down next to Simon and put his prayer shawl on his chest.

“When your grandfather gave you this at your bar mitzvah, you told me how much it meant to you. It was the symbol of the day you became a man. Simon…” She wiped her nose in her sleeve, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes again. “No matter what happens, no matter what you are or what you become, you will always be that man to me.”

She held Simon’s hand until Raphael and Luke were done, and as Raphael lowered Simon’s body into the ground, Clary clung to Luke, burying her face in his chest.

“He’ll be alright, kiddo. He’s got us. He’ll always have us.” Luke soothed, stroking her hair. “Come on, we need to cover him over before dawn.”

Clary nodded, sniffing back her tears, and grabbed one of the shovels.

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

Once Alec had showered, he put on his binder and his lucky denim shirt (Magnus had seemed to like it the first night they met, so Alec figured it made him look good), and headed to the office, where he knew Lydia would still be working. He had to give her Magnus’ report before Izzy’s came in. She seemed somewhat surprised to see him, but gestured to the chair opposite her.

“I have Magnus Bane’s findings. He found no trace of magic being used to create the forsaken. Izzy’s still working on it in the lab, I believe she’s waiting for blood test results.” He told her, handing her the report. He chose to stay standing, tangling his hands together behind his back as Lydia flicked through Magnus’ report.

“Seems strange that Mr Bane would deliver it to you rather than me...Though I’m not surprised, he took an instant dislike to me, this afternoon.” Lydia commented, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Alec raised his eyebrows, shrugging a little. He’d never seen Magnus be unfriendly, so he could only assume Lydia had put her foot in her mouth somehow. “I also wanted to talk to you about a… Proposition.”

Lydia put aside the file. “A proposition?”

“Yes,” Alec answered, taking a deep breath as he thought of where to begin. “I feel that our problems are compatible. You need a husband in order to fulfil your dream of running an institute, and I need a strong political partner in order to restore my family’s authority in Idris. If we… Became allies, we could run this institute the way we saw fit. You could make sure that the Clave are happy, and I could get shit done. I know we have slightly different ideas, but we could iron out those differences.”

“Alec… Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Lydia asked, tilting her head to the side.

Alec nodded. “What do you think?”

“You want to marry me?”

Alec couldn’t stop his nose from wrinkling. “I want an ally. I want to be clear. This would not be a romantic or sexual… Thing. This is purely business. I have no interest in women, and I know you said you’ve done the love thing already, so… We’d just be… Allies. Partners.”

Lydia thought about it for less than a second. “Understood. I think we could make it work.”

“So…?”

Lydia smiled. “I guess we’re getting married.”

Alec blew out a long breath. “Right. My parents will be so proud.”

“I feel we should keep it to ourselves until I okay this with the Clave. Of course, you’ll have to have all the surgery before the wedding, so you’ll… You know… Be the husband.”

Alec’s eye twitched, though he didn’t respond. Lydia got up from her desk and took his hands in hers.

“Alec, I promise you, I will do my best to be a good wife.”

“Right…” Alec swallowed hard, realising he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. “Anyway, see you… Around.”

He got the hell out of there before he could do something stupid like cry or vomit.

“Hey, Alec…” Hodge caught him in the hallway, stopping him with a hand in the crook of his elbow.. “You alright?”

Alec sniffed hard, looking at the wall. “Yeah, just… Need some air.”

“You want to spar with me? I’m getting bored using those dummies.” He offered, eyes darting over Alec’s face, trying to assess what exactly the younger man was feeling.

Alec sighed. If he went back to his room, he might do something stupid like call Magnus. He needed to keep busy, keep his mind off the fact that he’d just ruined any chance at happiness he had in one fell swoop. “Sure,” he answered after a moment’s pause. He met Hodge’s eyes, and it struck him that he felt absolutely no attraction to him whatsoever anymore. For a long time, Alec had felt vaguely uncomfortable around the weapons master, getting a little hot in the face when Hodge touched him casually, struggling to hold eye contact just in case Hodge saw the barest hint of affection in them. Now, though, the only man Alec could see himself holding was Magnus. Perhaps he’d never really been interested in Hodge; perhaps he’d simply been curious as to what it would be like to be admired by a man.

It was wonderful, he’d learned.

It was just a shame that nothing could ever come of it.

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

At the cemetery, Luke, Raphael and Clary sat in silence next to Simon’s grave. Clary was deep in thought, lost in all the memories that she’d shared with Simon, praying that she’d get to make more in the future. Simon was her oldest and most loyal friend, the one that had protected her all their lives, and who she’d failed to protect. If Simon came back, she promise herself, she would never put Valentine and the shadowhunters before him, not ever again.

“You know what my favourite memory is, of you and Simon?” Luke asked, staring up at the moon. It was two days from full, and he could feel it under his skin.

Clary hummed a questioning tone.

Luke smiled, shaking his head a little. “It’s that time when you were… Oh, maybe twelve? And you came barrelling into the apartment, terrified because you realised halfway home that Simon had forgotten to pay for his bottle of soda. He genuinely thought he was going to jail, and you were determined to come clean to me so I could protect you. I remember looking into Simon’s face, and his glasses were two sizes too big for him, and he looked like he wanted to vomit from pure guilt and fear.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “And when I told you it was no big deal, you both immediately started insisting that stealing was wrong, and that Simon had to pay for what he’d done. Neither of you would calm down until me and your Mom promised to take you back to the shop to give them some money.”

“And Simon gave the shop-keeper his whole $5 allowance.” Clary said quietly, tears welling hot in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’ve never known a boy so patient, so loving, and so good. You know, before you came out, I thought for sure someday you and Simon would be together. I remember thinking when you went to homecoming together in your first year of high school, that Simon was the only boy I’d ever trust with my little girl.”

Clary smiled, and reached over to squeeze Luke’s hand. “He’s the best.”

“Yeah. His strength is easy to underestimate, Clary, but it’s there. He’s like steel.” Luke insisted, scooting closer to her. “You know where that strength comes from?”

“His determination?”

“His love. His love for us, our love for him, his mom’s love… That’s what’s going to bring him out of that hole.” Luke told her. “The shadowhunters, the Lightwoods and the others, they’re going to try to convince you that emotions complicate life. That they make life harder. And that might be true, I don’t know. But love is what our family is made of, and it’s why we’ve survived all these years with Valentine breathing down our necks. You can’t let go of that love, okay?”

Clary nodded, laying her head on Luke’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t let them change me.”

“Good,” Luke grumbled, kissing the top of her head.

The two of them stiffened as they felt a faint trembling under their feet, and Raphael moved quickly, grabbing the blood bags he’d brought with him as Simon’s hand burst through the soil. Luke and Clary got to their feet, Luke dragging Clary back a few feet.

“He’s going to be hungry,” Luke explained as she gave him a defensive look. “Let Raphael at him first.”

It took only a few seconds for Simon to climb out of the ground, his new strength helping him shove the loose earth aside. An inhuman hissing sound burst from his lips as he raised his head to look at them, and Raphael snapped the seal off a bag and threw it to him.Simon snatched it up, draining it in three long gulps. Clary watched with horror as her best friend greedily drank his way through four bags of blood, Luke holding her back with a hand on her shoulder.

“Drink up,” Raphael soothed, tossing the fifth bag. Simon drank it a lot more slowly, looking around curiously once it was empty.

“Clary,” Simon said, eyes wide. “What-What’s happening?”

Clary glanced at Luke, who let her go, and she took a couple of steps towards Simon. “You um,” Clary said quietly, “you died.”

“What? No, I… I’m not dead, though.” Simon pointed out, the words a little slurred around the fangs that had grown during his transformation. “What was I drinking? I-it… Is that blood?!” He yelped, scrambling away from the empty bags. “Oh my g-” He choked.

“You can’t say it right now,” Raphael told him, “but you’ll learn. There’s a lot you’ll need to learn. But your clan are here for you. As are your family.”

“Yeah, we’re here for you, Simon. All of us,” Luke insisted.

Simon sobbed dryly, trying over and over to say ‘oh my god’, like that could prove somehow that all of this was a bad dream. Eventually, he pounded the earth with his fists, and looked up at the three people watching him.

“Am I a vampire?” Simon asked, eyes shining with tears.

Clary whimpered, and nodded.

“Clary, tell me this isn’t real, tell me this is a joke, this can’t be happening!” Simon begged, digging his fingers into his own grave.

“I’m sorry, Simon, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Clary cried, stepping closer to him.

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m a monster.”

“That’s not true,” Luke said gently. “You’re still the same. I promise.”

“You’re the same Simon I’ve known my entire life,” Clary nodded, “the same guy who loves sci-fi, who can recite every line from every Nicolas Cage movie… Who… Who… Once felt so guilty for accidentally stealing a bottle of soda that you paid the clerk back five times over. You’re still the same.”

Simon shook his head. “No, no, I’m not, I’m not. Look at me!” His fingers were molded around his fangs, whimpering at the feel of them, intrusive in his mouth. “Look at me…”

Clary lunged forward, falling to her knees in front of him. “Simon, I will always love you. No matter what.”

“No. No. Please…” Simon fell backwards, stumbling to his feet. “Stay away from me! Stay away…”

With a stiff breeze, Simon disappeared into the night.

“I’ll look after him,” Raphael promised, nodding at Clary before taking off after the young fledgling.

“What did I do?” Clary breathed, pressing her hands into the blood-wet dirt of Simon’s grave as Luke knelt down next to her. “What did I do?”

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

Izzy tapped her pen against the desk, her narrowed eyes staring at the computer screen in front of her. Sighing, she stood and made her way over to the microscope, checking for the fourth time. It was definitely angel blood in the forsaken’s system.

“Why would you have angel blood?” She asked the corpse, looking over her shoulder.

What was the point of injecting angel blood into a human? Was Valentine trying to make a shadowhunter? He’d know that wouldn’t work, he was a scientist, he’d have at least that basic knowledge. So what could angel blood do that demon blood couldn’t?

Izzy’s eyes went wide as she put the pieces together. Demon blood couldn’t get through the wards of the institute, but angel blood could. The other forsaken had gone after Luke, Valentine’s old parabatai. So there could be a second forsaken going after Hodge, Valentine’s second in command… And it would need angel blood to get through the wards!

Before she could even finish the train of thought, Izzy had run out of the laboratory, yelling at people to get out of her way as she desperately sprinted through the corridors. Hodge would be in the training room, she guessed, working.

As she rounded the corner, what she saw chilled her blood.

Alec was on the floor, not moving, as Hodge fought the second forsaken with a couple of knives. Just as Izzy grabbed for a sword of her own, Hodge got the upper hand, and broke the forsaken’s neck with an unmistakable crunch. Dropping the sword, Izzy ran to her brother’s side.

“Alec? Alec, are you okay?” She asked, relieved to see that his eyes were already open.

“Yeah, I think so,” Alec croaked, hissing in pain as he sat up. “He clipped me on the head, but I think my arm’s worse.”

Sure enough, there was blood seeping through his shirt where the forsaken’s mace had pierced Alec’s shoulder. He clutched at the wound, his jaw clenching at the wave of pain that wracked his body.

“It came out of nowhere,” Hodge panted, “how did it get through the wards?”

“It had angel blood,” Izzy told them. “Valentine found a loophole. He sent the forsaken to kill off people who’d betrayed him. I think its mission was to kill you.”

Hodge and Alec looked at each other, wondering if Hodge was the only target, or whether Maryse and Robert were also on Valentine’s hit list.

Only time would tell.

#transgender alec lightwood #shadowhunters fanfic #shadowhunters fanfiction #fighting the good fight #ftgf verse #content #writing

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yourfangirlfriend · 7 years

Text

You Don’t Know Me : Chapter Five

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read on Ao3

Once the door was open, Sansa scooped up her letters from the table and brought them up to her room, ignoring Bran's questioning look. When she finally got to her chambers and pushed the door closed, she dropped the parchment and ink bottle and slid her back down her wall. She let out a breath that she could have sworn she had been holding since he showed his face.

There had been a noticeable pause after as Gendry took her in, his face only flinching slightly as he realized he knew the woman standing in front of him. Sansa straightened her back out.

"You've done fine work ser," she said, trying to force a small smile. "We are very lucky to have you."

"It's an honor to be of service to Your Grace," he said. The venom in his voice was lost on Ser Carrick.

Sansa's throat tightened.

"The honor is ours," she replied. He broke their eye contact and looked down at the piece he held.

"Yours, Ser." he held up to Carrick. Before he could reply, a shout rang out from behind them. Their heads whipped around.

"You fucking bastard!" one of the trainees yelled, holding his jaw. His sparring partner dropped his sword.

"I didn't mean to-"

Before he could finish, his victim lunged at him, and punched him across the face. The other boys dropped their swords and crowded around in a circle to watch.

"Oh bloody hell," Ser Carrick huffed. "If you'll excuse me." He strode over and began pushing through the throng of his charges.

Sansa turned her attention back to Gendry.

"Gendry-" she started softly.

"If you'll excuse me, Your Grace." Gendry nodded and began to turn.

"Stop," Sansa commanded. He paused and looked back at her. She tried to hold on to her queenly composure. "Follow me," she said and turned to walk.

She refused to turn her head back and see if he was following, but after a few paces, she heard his footsteps begin to fall in with hers. She smiled to herself and held her shoulders back. Sansa led him down through the crypts, stopping after she was satisfied that no one would hear them. She finally turned around and looked at him. His eyes were trained on the floor, his jaw set in quiet anger.

"I was going to tell you," she said.

"When?"

She looked down at her gloves.

"I-"

"When were you going to tell me that I was rutting my fingers into the Queen - the fucking Queen - like an animal in a dirty shack?"

His face twisted into a sneer.

"Gendry,"

"This is what your lot does." he spat. He began to pace around. "Get your fun and then leave whatever low born you had to pick up the pieces."

"That's not true!" Sansa snapped.

"Yeah then what is? Not exactly a paragon of honesty, are you?"

She sighed and let her head fall down. A beat passed.

"Right. Well if you ever need any jewelry fixed, I hear there's a good shop in the Vale." He made to turn and walk back to the exit before Sansa spoke up.

"I spent a year with the Tyrells." she closed her eyes. "An entire year they treated me like a bitch in a kennel. All because of my family's name." She opened her eyes and saw him still standing in front of her, looking her over. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. When she spoke, her voice cracked.

"I don't want to be Sansa Stark anymore. All the pain and pity it carries..." she shook her head and ran the back of her gloved hand against her eyes. She collected herself and held her head up high.

"I didn't lie to you to hurt you. I lied because I wanted to ride into town by myself. And then... I wanted to kiss a handsome man who didn't see me as this...thing to conquer or protect. Don't you understand?"

He exhaled and looked down at his feet.

"I know it wasn't fair to you," She said. He looked up at her. "and I'm sorry. But I meant what I said. I felt safe with you. Feel safe with you." She stepped a bit closer.

"Gendry,"

He looked up.

"Please," she whispered.

He sighed.

"I'm not a plaything," he said. "Lowborn and highborn don't mix. I won't sneak around to see you."

"Then don't."

Gendry's eye brows shot up. "Oh?"

She bit her lip. Oh fuck. I didn't plan this far.

"Don't sneak around."

"And how do you propose that work?" he asked. "Just ride up every night with flowers at the gate and ask to please be let into the Queen's bed chamber?"

"The ride's a bit long," Sansa smiled. "It'd be a much quicker trip if you lived in Winterfell."

Gendry was visibly taken aback.

"I'm sorry?"

"I need a smith. This castle is the base of the North's armies, treasury, and government. I need a smith who I can trust to make good equipment so my people are protected. You've already proven yourself today."

Gendry stared at her in shock.

"I'm not going to be your kept boy," he sneered.

"The offer stands no matter our relationship," she said.

"Then why offer this? Now?" he said, holding his arms out.

"Because it saves me the parchment," she shot back.

He looked around the crypts, and brought his hand up to his chin, running over the stubble.

"Unbelievable," he sighed.

"I've thought about this a long time," she lied.

He didn't respond.

"I've been in your home, remember?" she said. She focused on the torch flickering on the wall behind him, too embarrassed to look at him directly. He stiffened. "The boards are old, Gendry. The first snowfall will come and the roof will cave in within a week. The forge here has a fireplace and a real roof. If you stay where you are, you won't survive the winter." She felt her throat tighten as she finished.

He still didn't look at her.

"And what happens when you get sick of looking at me?"

"I guarantee you employment until you wish to find work somewhere else."

He finally met her gaze.

"What happens when you get married? What if your husband decides to bring his own men?"

"I'm not." she said.

He rolled his eyes.

"Sure,"

Sansa's face tightened. She closed the space between them and angled her chin up at him.

"I'm not," she sneered, daring him to break eye contact.

"You'll change your mind, want some heirs to fill the halls-"

"Then I'll have bastards!" she spat. "And the north will be run by the whore queen and her bastard heirs! And then when the whore queen dies, bastards will rule the north!" She took in a shallow breath and tried to contain her emotions from cracking her voice. "I will die before I ever let a man tell me who I am again."

She stepped back away from him.

"Names and titles aren't real," she sighed. "and they certainly don't indicate honor. I will fulfill my duty as Queen and see that my people are fed and protected. Anything beyond that is no one's concern."

She waited for him to reply. The crypt's fires crackled in the silence.

Finally, he spoke.

"I'll take the job," he said. "But, Sansa...I'm not...I'm not fit for," he looked up, trying to find his words. "I'm too bloody low-born." he looked at her, his eyes were glassy. "I just...I can't. Not to you."

Sansa felt her breath hitch in her chest.

"Very well. I'll inform Ser Carrick of your decision." she strode past him, determined not to let him see her cry.

"Sansa-"

"And another thing," she turned back to him. "You never did anything to me." with that, she walked without looking back, her boot steps echoing against the stones.

...

He had moved into the forge a week later.

Sansa had watched from the window in the library as he unloaded his few possessions into the small room off of the forge. When he had finished, he immediately began working on Ser Carrick's next request. Osha found her watching him, hunched behind the sil and stealing looks at his shirtless body like a curious school girl. When she cleared her throat, Sansa swiveled her head and turned a bright pink.

"I-"

"Yeah," Osha smiled. She nodded to the window. "Pretty one, innit he? No wonder you wanted to stay all night. Those arms..."

Sansa stood immediately and hurried away.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." she sputtered.

You're embarrassing yourself for nothing. Stupid. Idiot. He doesn't want to see you anymore, stop mooning over him like a child.

Sansa went out of her way to avoid running into the smith. She took the long way to the dining hall rather than walk past the forge, and would always dismiss herself when he entered a room. On the rare occasion that she had to speak with him, he kept his answers short.

"Yes, Your Grace,"

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"It will be done, Your Grace."

Sansa wanted to pull her hair out. However, even as she promised herself she would rid him from her mind, she found herself going back to her perch by the library window. Sometimes he would just be working and she would watch, hypnotized, as his hammer came down on whatever poor sword or shield balanced on the anvil. Other times, he would be talking with the guards, the new recruits, or the servants, laughing with them and playing with their children. Some days, he wasn't in the forge at all, and Sansa would sit by the window, half-heartedly answering letters of listening to Bran's updates, waiting until she saw his mop of black hair emerge the sides of her vision. Sansa could sit there for hours just watching him work. She had been good about ducking behind the wall quickly whenever he looked up, but now that months had passed and her hair was finally past her chin, she worried some would have stuck out and given her away like a giant red flag. But his eyes never caught hers, and Sansa continued to sneak off in between meetings and meals to perch at her window and watch the day go by.

It may have gone on like this had Sansa not brought up Arya.

It was months later, and Sansa woke up with Arya on her mind. Her name day. Throughout the day, Sansa's mind wandered in and out of conversations, caught up in the memories of the last time she had seen her sister. How long ago had it been? Before making her way to the stairs for supper, she paused at the room they used to share. She reached out and ran her fingers down the wood, remembering how many times she had locked Arya out to gossip in peace with Jeyne. Her little hands had banged on the door until Sansa finally opened it an hour later and found her sister curled up in a ball fast asleep. Arya. Arya. I'm sorry. I want you back. She let her fingers fall from the door, and took a deep breath. Reluctantly, she turned towards the stairs.

Moments later when she entered the dining hall for supper, she saw Rickon and Bran eating in silence. She knew then that she had not been mourning alone.

"We should have had hot cakes," Sansa said cheerily, reaching for a small roll of bread. "Arya's favorites."

Bran smiled. "With a big slab of butter on each one."

Sansa smiled back at her brother and settled in her seat. They had their supper in silence, and it was only when their plates had been cleared away that Sansa asked.

"Do you suppose she made it out of King's Landing?" Sansa asked. "I don't remember seeing her after Father..." she trailed off. "I know the Lannister's didn't get her. I take comfort in that."

Bran and Rickon exchanged a glance.

"...What?" she asked.

"We didn't want to upset you" Bran answered quickly. "It was a while ago."

Sansa's fist tightened.

Oh gods. They found her dead.

"Gendry saw Arya on the road," Rickon said. "They separated after he joined the Brotherhood Without Banners."

"Rickon!" Bran snapped.

"It's true. They separated after he joined the Brotherhood Without Banners. He said."

Sansa sat dumbfounded for a moment.

Suddenly, with a loud screech, she pushed her chair back and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Bran cried out. Sansa ignored him and let the door swing shut with a satisfying CRACK behind her. Ignoring the cold, she bounded onto the path to the forge.

He saw her coming before she could say anything. He had been inspecting one of the swords he had just finished and began to wrap it in oilcloth.

"Your Grace," he said, cinching the tie around the bundle.

"We need to speak," Sansa seethed. Gendry didn't move. Sansa pushed past him and into the small room off the forge and beckoned for him to follow. After a beat, he left the sword on the table, and followed her in, closing the door behind him.

The room was larger than Sansa had remembered, but it was sparsely furnished. A table and chair sat in one corner, while is mattress was pushed up against the far left corner. A few books were scattered here and there by the fire place, which was casting a warm orange light around the room. Sansa's hair seemed to glow.

When she heard the door latch, Sansa turned around.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

He shrugged.

"Can't tell you if I never see you," he sighed.

"You see me enough!" she snapped. She felt tears well up in her eyes. "You are the one who didn't want to continue on."

"It's the decent thing to do," he huffed.

"No the decent thing to do would be telling me my sister was alive the minute you knew who I really was!" She jabbed a finger in his face.

"Decent like peeking out of windows and watching a man work?" he snapped back.

Sansa's mouth fell open and she felt the color drain from her face.

"I-"

"I see you, you're not as slick as you think." he snapped. "What? Do you not trust me?"

Sansa balked.

"Of course I trust you!"

"Then why do you watch me? Sitting up there like a hawk?" he yelled back.

Sansa opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. What could she say that wouldn't strip away the queenly air she had built up as a defense? No, he had already rejected her. She would not be rejected again.

"If you have any more information about my sister, please tell me. I'll stay out of your way otherwise," she made for the door handle, expecting him to push off and let her through. He didn't.

"Why do you watch me, Sansa?" he sighed.

"Please," she felt tears well up in her eyes. I don't want to cry in front of you. "Just let me through." She yanked on the door handle and felt a droplet fall from her eyes.

"Sansa," his voice was soft. "Answer me."

Sansa pulled on the door again and again. Finally, she put her palms to her eyes and pushed against them hard. When she had regained composure, she met his gaze.

"Did you think I was lying when I said you made me feel safe?"

He didn't say anything. She pulled at the door handle again, and when he refused to move, offered further explanation.

"If I can't be with you," she sighed. "Then at least know you're here. My head gets too crowded sometimes, with all the...things." she waved her hand around. She opened her eyes and looked into his. "You make them stop."

A beat passed between them. Sansa waited for him to say something, to fall to his knees and forgive her or open the door and push her out. Anything besides just standing there, looking at her like he was. She scanned his face for any sign of emotion. When he didn't move, she reached for the door handle again.

He caught her hand.

She felt him put his hands on her shoulders, and slowly switch their positions. She the metal bolts of the door pressed into her back.

He reached down and wiped one of her tears away with his thumb, leaving a trail of soot against her skin. She brought her hand up to his and held it against her face. He dropped his face to hers and kissed her.

He had intended it to be a chaste kiss, but somehow her mouth was open and his hands were holding her waist against the door. She was breathing in sharp little intakes, raking her nails through his hair and down along his stubble. Breaking the kiss, he trailed kisses down her neck and listened as she took in a sweet little breath.

"Do you know how hard it is to see you in that window every day?" he breathed against her collar bone. She shook her head.

She shook her head.

"No," she whispered.

"Every time I see you watching me work," he lifted her against the door, grinding his hips into hers. She squeaked. "all I can think about is putting you over my work bench." She reached down and brought his face up, kissing him. He reached up and cradled the back of her head, pulling her in closer and giving her hair a small tug. She smiled against his lips. She smelled like lavender and cold wind. Gendry broke the kiss and looked down into her eyes. Half lidded, they seemed to smile up at , she brought her fingers under his chin and brought him in for a small, soft kiss.

Queen Sansa Stark of the North and he was pressing her up against his door like a common whore. She should have slapped him for being so forward and brutish. What had he done to her?

Gendry pulled away and buried his head in her chest.

"You shouldn't be here," he growled. Sansa gently ran her fingers along his jaw and brought his face up to her's. His eyes were dark.

"I am here," she said.

Safe. She feels safe with him.

He smiled.

"So you are," he whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed against her, nuzzling his face against where her neck met shoulder. Sansa inhaled deeply and jostled out of his hold. Gendry's eyes followed her and she went to stand in front of the fire and turned to him.

"Will you get my dress?"

He walked behind her and began to tug at the buttons of the dress. Sansa closed her eyes as he picked and pulled at the fabric against her, moving down her spine with each small snap. Once it was loose enough she stepped out of it, and she stood in front of him in her shift. Slowly, she reached down and brought it over her head and dropped it to the floor. Carefully, she pulled her small clothes down as well. She kicked them over by his bed and stood in front of him.

"Will you take me to bed?" she asked shyly.

His eyes raked down her body.

"You're a maiden," he said, turning away, ashamed as if he had just invaded her privacy.

"I heard some men preferred that," she quipped.

Gendry bit his lip.

"Gendry," she said. "I'm here."

He took a small step forward. Their eyes locked.

"Is this truly what you want?" he asked. "To get fucked by a low born bastard on a dirty straw mattress?"

She took a step closer to him and reached out to begin pulling his trouser's laces with one hand.

"Yes," she said. And she brought his mouth down to her's.

They wouldn't make it to the straw mattress.

#Sansa Stark #gendry x sansa #Gendry Waters #sansa x gendry #A song of ice and fire #Sansa stark x gendry waters #Gendry waters x Sansa Stark

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