is women who endure. @sweetfray - Tumblr Blog

for @tscnetwork second mission: favorite parabatai bond

ok it’s heronstairs and it’s angsty but also fluffy so yeah i hope you enjoy (it was supposed to be around 1k words but i got carried away and now it’s 3.5k so yEAH,,,,)

It’s dark. There’s nothing but unending blackness. Cautiously, Will moves forward, squinting, but even his night vision rune doesn’t help him see anything – he can’t even see his hands, much less his surroundings.

He curses at himself. He should have known – both he and Jem don’t have their witchlights and their seraph blades with them, thinking it would be an easy mission. How wrong they were. Great. They always have the worst luck.

“Jem,” he murmurs, the brush of his parabatai’s back against his own reassuring, “Do you – ?”

He feels Jem shake his head slightly behind him. “The night vision rune isn’t working. I do not know why – there must be something blocking it off.”

Dread tingles down Will’s spine. This isn’t good.

Jem must feel his apprehension, because he nudges Will comfortingly. “We’ve been through worse, William. Don’t chicken out on me now.”

Thank God for his parabatai. Sometimes, Will wonders what he would do without Jem. Grinning slightly, he says, “Please, James, you should know me well enough by now. I don’t chicken out. Shall we split up and scout the area separately? Let’s see who’s being chicken now.”

“Will,” Jem says, hesitant, “We literally can’t see anything, and we don’t know what exactly we’re facing. Splitting up isn’t a good idea. We should stick together.”

“Please,” Will says, even as an unpleasant feeling sinks in his stomach, “We’ve been through worse, James. This is an easy mission. Splitting up won’t do us any harm.”

“We’re parabatai. We’re supposed to watch each others’ backs,” Jem argues, but Will can tell from his tone that Jem is aware that there’s no changing Will’s mind now.

“Meet you back here in ten minutes, James,” Will says. “I’ll see you then.” He gives Jem’s arm a quick squeeze, and Will hears him sigh in exasperation.

“You’ll be the death of me, William,” he grumbles. Right afterwards, Will feels the warmth against his back vanish, and Jem’s footsteps fade out of earshot. Now, suspended in blackness with his only company gone, he feels dread pool deep in his stomach, sudden and unwelcoming.

“What is wrong with me,” he mutters. There’s no reason for him to feel this anxious. Nothing will go wrong. The dread is still there, but Will decides to think nothing of it. He can’t let his emotions distract him from the mission. He can’t let Jem down.

He reaches a hand out, feeling blindly for something to hold on to, and takes step forward, cautious and uncertain. He takes a few steps until his hand hits something, and moves his hand along that surface. A wall, Will guesses. Keeping his other hand in front of him in case he runs into something, Will carefully follows the length of that wall. His hand catches on something, and his breath stutters. Carefully passing his hand over that area again, he realises that it’s just a chip in the wall.

Will chides himself for being paranoid. There’s nothing here, nothing dangerous or threatening, or else he or Jem would’ve picked up on something. He continues, and everything’s silent, and suddenly –

An abrupt, pained cry rings out from somewhere behind him, and Will freezes. The cry is followed by a dry, hacking cough and a thud, and Will’s veins turn to ice. Heart racing, he spins around and sets off in the direction of Jem’s cry, with no regard for the darkness. He stumbles over something, he slams headfirst into something else, but he’s a Shadowhunter and his parabatai is in danger. After slamming into a few more objects, he glimpses something bright ahead and barrels towards it, drawing a knife out as he runs. As he gets closer, he sees that it’s a room, and inside –

Will’s heart stutters and he nearly stops breathing, because – oh, Jem, oh no nonono – a horrid, twisted humanoid is standing over his parabatai, and – he holds a massive syringe to Jem’s body, with a horrifyingly familiar silver substance within. And Jem, his Jem, even paler than he usually is, lies limp on the floor as the creature cackles at Will and pushes the syringe deeper, prompting a shudder from him.

“How kind of you to join us, William,” it croons as realisation dawns on Will. He knows exactly what it is inside that syringe, and – Jem, Jem – “Look at your dear parabatai. Poor thing – got poisoned by Yanluo years ago, didn’t he?” Will wants to lunge at the thing, tear it to pieces, because Jem is convulsing and shuddering, and Will can’t stand the look of pain and utter agony on his face, but he can’t move, he can’t move, he’s rooted to where he is and why isn’t his body responding to him –

“Does he like my yin fen here?” the creature continues, jabbing at the syringe, and Will watches in horror as more of the yin fen is injected into Jem’s body. Jem makes a pained, heart-wrenching cry and Will feels his anguish and torment through the bond and he hates this he hates Jem in pain but he can’t move he can’t do anything to save his parabatai he can’t do anything and he’s useless. He can only watch helplessly as the creature cackles at the sight of Jem in pain, and Will struggles, struggles to fight whatever’s holding him back.

“The first time someone gets a dose of yin fen,” says the creature conversationally, as if he isn’t torturing a human being right now, “They get addicted. They may get hallucinations, but the addiction stays. They can’t live without the drug. But you know all about that, don’t you? Your little parabatai here is addicted to yin fen. Oh, Yanluo was always my favourite.” In front of him, Jem retches, coughing up a silver liquid that is laced with red. Will tries to reach out, to save Jem, but he’s frozen in place. “But do you know what happens when the same person gets a second overdose of yin fen?” It kicks Jem, causing him to wheeze and gasp, and Will cries out silently. No. “It keeps them alive for a short period of time. It gives them acute awareness of everything that’s happening. But it’s still an overdose, and there are so many more side effects, only this time they can feel everything very acutely. See, William?” The creature kneels down and lifts Jem’s head. Jem’s eyes are shining silver and paler than they have ever been before, and are filled with pain and anguish and Will aches, aches for his parabatai, aches to save him, aches to tear that thing to pieces, because how dare it hurt Jem.

Smiling slowly, the creature pushes at the syringe and the last of the yin fen empties in Jem’s body. No, no, no. It turns and gives Will a cruel, malicious smirk. “And that,” it murmurs, a finality in his tone, “is enough to kill him. I’ll see you around, William.” With that, it vanishes, and Will can feel his limbs again and he rushes to Jem’s side.

“No, no, no,” he says breathlessly, cradling Jem’s head in his lap. “Oh, James, what did it do to you?” And his heart is breaking and tears are falling as Jem turns his head and coughs up more yin fen and more blood. Will fumbles for his stele, drawing iratze after iratze on Jem’s skin, only to watch in horror as they all fade away and Jem still looks one step away from death.

“No, Jem, no,” he babbles, because that’s all his brain can muster with his limp parabatai in front of him, dying from the thing he’s been dependent on for years.

“There’s nothing you can do, Will,” Jem rasps, voice scratchy and strained, and Will’s heart squeezes. He bows his head and lets the tears fall. This can’t be the end. He has to do something. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not,” Will says desperately. I can take you back right now, we can call a Silent Brother and you’ll be fine – ”

“It’s too late,” Jem croaks. “Why didn’t you protect me, William? Why weren’t you there for me? We’re parabatai. Shouldn’t we – ” he convulses, a shudder rippling down his body.

“Jem,” Will says, desperate. “I’m – ”

“Shouldn’t we always be by each other’s side?” Jem continues, voice growing weaker and weaker. He wheezes, struggling for air. “You made a promise, Will. Entreat me not to leave thee. You left me – you left me, and you’ve killed me.”

“No,” Will stutters, “No, Jem – ”

“It’s your fault,” Jem’s voice is barely a whisper now, and Will has to strain to hear him. “Your fault, William. It seems,” one last cough, weak and barely there. “It seems that you just aren’t good enough, parabatai.”

He says the last word with a sneer, and with that, he goes limp in Will’s arms, the light fading out in his eyes. Right that moment, a horrible, searing pain flares up in Will’s chest, right over his heart. No, please, no, he silently begs as he doubles over in pain, the agony bringing fresh tears to his eyes. Because that pain – a pain like that could only mean one thing, and no, he refuses to accept that –

Despite the pain, he somehow manages to drag his head up and look at his parabatai – your dead parabatai, a voice whispers in his head, all because of you – and never has Jem looked so… broken, so utterly drained of everything. Will has always known that he would see Jem die one day, but he never thought that it would look like… this. Jem is so, so pale, seemingly washed of colour save for the flecks of blood, and he looks so lifeless it’s impossible for Will to deny that he’s dead.

Jem’s earlier words echo in his mind. You’ll be the death of me, William. Will chokes out a strangled laugh. How ironic. How right Jem was, because – because it is Will’s fault, Will’s fault that Jem is currently dead, Will’s fault that the other half of his soul is gone. It seems that he was literally the death of Jem, Will thinks bitterly at himself. How worthless, how stupid of him.

His heart throbs, and his parabatai rune burns, but he’s too much of a coward to look at it – he doesn’t want to see the reminder that his parabatai has been taken from him and it’s all his fault, why did he suggest to split up why did he leave Jem alone why did he abandon his parabatai why could he never do anything right why why why –

It’s your fault, something like Jem’s voice whispers in his mind, you killed me. You couldn’t keep your promise to me. You’re a disappointment as a parabatai. You failed me.

“No, I didn’t want this to happen,” he babbles helpless, aware of nothing else but the searing in his chest and the cry of your fault your fault yourfaultyourfault in his head, “Jem, I’m so, so sorry, I failed you, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me, you can’t be dead, please, please – ”

– and Will jolts up, a silent scream on his lips. Everything’s dark. The pain is gone – where’s Jem? Where is he? He can’t see Jem, no, no, where did he go? Gathering his bearings, he blinks and looks around, heartbeat a thunderous roar in his ears. It’s – it’s his room in the Institute. Everything is familiar. He pinches his arm, grounding himself, and opens his eyes again. It’s still his room, and he’s on his bed. Was that a dream? The blood is gone, the creature is nowhere to be seen, and Jem – where is Jem?

Will panics. He needs to find Jem. Even if it were just a dream, he can still feel the phantom throb of his parabatai rune, and the resounding ache in his soul with the loss of his other half. Though he feels the faint hum of his bond with Jem (the bond is there, thank the Angel), he needs to know for himself that Jem is alright, that he is well, that he is not lying on the floor somewhere pale and bleeding and dead.

He tumbles out of his bed, barely managing to keep himself from falling, and half stumbles, half runs to Jem’s room. He doesn’t care that it’s the middle of the night – he doesn’t care if he wakes Jem up, he just needs to make sure that Jem is here, that Jem is fine and well.

Despite the fact that their rooms aren’t too far from one another, it still seems like hours have passed when he reaches Jem’s room. Outside, he hears the faint, melodious tune of Jem’s violin, and the familiarity of that soothes his heart. Jem’s here. Jem must have been unable to sleep, and Will feels relieved – what if Jem had the same dream he did? He knows that fate has a funny sense of humour, and he’s shared dreams with Jem before. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Jem dreamed of losing Will too. He doesn’t want Jem to go through that pain, the pain of losing his other half, not ever.

As quietly as possible, he cracks open Jem’s door, not wanting to interrupt his playing, but Jem, being Jem, hears him anyway, and he sets down his violin to turn and face Will.

Will stares at his parabatai, taking in every inch of him, making sure that he’s fine and whole. Jem looks as he always does – alive, mostly healthy, and his cheeks are slightly flushed from the strain of playing the violin. He looks alive, a far cry from the cold, lifeless body that had been in Will’s dream only moments ago.

“William?” Jem says, voice gentle and warm as always, “Will? Did something happen?”

And he’s here, he’s real, and real, and alive, and relief crashes over Will like a wave, tension flooding out of him. But – he needs to know that Jem is fine, that Jem truly is here and has not left him. He needs to make sure that this isn’t something his mind made up, that this is true and real. Even seeing him, even hearing him, has not dulled the memory of Jem dying, and he still vividly remembers the phantom pain over his rune, the pain that is impossible to forget, the pain that told him his sworn brother was gone.

He strides forward, meets Jem’s kind, enquiring eyes, and pulls his parabatai into a fierce hug. Jem is warm and solid and real against him, his heartbeat steady against Will’s chest. He’s alive. He’s fine and well and unharmed.

It was a dream.

“Thank the Angel,” Will breathes. He doesn’t know what he would do if that hadn’t been a dream. He doesn’t think he would have been able to live without Jem, especially not if Jem’s death was his fault. “You’re real. You’re alive. You’re alright.”

“Yes, William,” Jem says, patient but confused, “I’m alive, I’m right here, and I’m not leaving.” For a moment, Will’s heart clenches so hard he thinks he might cry. Even without knowing the situation, Jem’s first priority is still comforting Will and making sure that Will is okay. Jem always thinks of Will first. Will holds on tighter, like Jem’s going to vanish if he lets go.

He doesn’t deserve him.

“You were dead,” Will mutters, aware of how stupid he sounds. “Our bond – ”

“I’m right here, and I’m alive,” Jem responds steadily, his grip on Will tightening. His steady voice calms Will, as it always does. “And our bond is as strong as always.” Will feels a pulse of reassuring warmth from his connection with Jem. “See? Nothing’s wrong.”

They stay silent for several moments, Will relaxing into Jem’s firm hold and curling around the warmth in his chest. Jem is a reassuring presence, steady and constant, and the bond pulses with warmth and kindness.

After a while, Jem breaks the silence. “Will,” he says concernedly, brows furrowing as he pulls back slightly to meet Will’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” Will hesitates, and Jem quickly adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jem’s consideration for him makes something catch in his throat. By the Angel, what exactly did he do to deserve Jem? “I – I had a dream,” Will starts, and pauses, because that phrase alone sounds absurdly childish and cowardly. But Jem still gazes at him with concern in his eyes, not even the slightest bit condescending, so Will pushes down his nerves and forges on, “I dreamed – I dreamed that you died.” Jem continues watching him steadily, reassuringly, and he swallows.

He continues, voice growing less steady, “We were on a mission, it was dark, and I – I abandoned you, James. I left you, I suggested splitting up, and – and you got attacked by a demon, it injected another overdose of yin fen into you.” At the name of the drug he’s dependent on, Jem flinches slightly. “You – you died. It was horrible, the effects it had on you were horrible, and my rune – our rune…” he swallows thickly. “It hurt. It was awful. It hurt so much, James. I lost you, and it was my fault, and it hurt so much. I failed you, I broke our vow and I left you and it was all my fault and – ”

“William,” Jem’s voice, gentle and firm. He places a hand on Will’s shoulder and looks straight at him, silver-gray eyes boring into Will’s own. “I do not know what exactly happened in your dream, but it was not your fault. Splitting up is usually a strategic move. It doesn’t mean you abandoned me. It doesn’t mean you caused my – my death. We are parabatai, William, and it was not your fault. Besides,” he adds, “It was only a dream. It wasn’t real. I’m sure that if it were in real life, you would be rational enough to not split up if it’s dangerous. You’re not abandoning me anytime soon. This parabatai thing is for life.”

“What if I actually do it to you, Jem?” Will asks desperately, “What then? It’ll be my fault, my fault for abandoning you and my fault for getting you killed.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” Jem states firmly. “Will, you are the most loyal person I’ve ever known, and you would not leave me without good reason. I trust you, Will. You are my parabatai. However I may die, it will not be your fault.”

It’s not perfect, but it’s almost enough to soothe the phantom burning pain. It’s a reminder that Jem is always here for him, always here to support him, no matter what.

“Thank you, James,” he says exhaustedly. “I’m sorry for barging in on you so late and just burdening you with something so trivial.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Will,” says Jem, “You know you can come to me about anything, and it will never be trivial to me. You’re my parabatai, and just like you said, we’re supposed to support each other, right? You can come to me about anything. I will always, always have your back. I promise.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Will murmurs. He doesn’t deserve James, who’s so loyal and caring to Will, who’s broken and horrible.

“We’re parabatai,” Jem says firmly. “There’s no nonsense like whether we deserve each other or not between us. We’re sworn brothers and always there for each other.”

Will closes his eyes and leans his head against Jem’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he breathes, and Jem’s arms wrap around him in a comforting cocoon, letting him

“Don’t ever blame yourself for something like that, William,” Jem murmurs, arms tightening. “No matter what, Will, I will not blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. We’re brothers, from now until the end of time. Remember this: 我們是生死之交. Not even death can part us. I promise.”

“Thank you, brother,” Will says again. “Thank you so much.”

He doesn’t think he’ll recover from that traumatising dream anytime soon, but he thinks he’ll be okay.

It’s over a year later when he experiences that very same soul-searing pain again, the pain of losing his other half to death. It hurts, and it hurts no less than it did in the dream – except it’s so much more real, because this time, he’s lost Jem, he’s really lost Jem, and he can’t bear it. His heart, his soul knows that his other half is – gone.

Last time, he had run to Jem’s room, and Jem had been there to reassure him, but this time… this time, Jem is really and truly gone. There’s no one to help him, not Tessa, not Cecily, not anyone, because none of them are his other half, the one he’s tied his soul to, the one who’s sworn to be with him every single step of the way.

There’s only a horrible, empty void, and Will mourns.

sorry if this sucks,,,,

#tid #will herondale #jem carstairs #heronstairs #i can't #ok

greenbriarcardan

the mortal instruments six for @tyblacktorn ♡

“Have some of this!” Clary squinted at it. “Is it going to turn me into a rodent?” “Where is the trust? I think it’s strawberry juice,” Isabelle said. “Anyways, it’s yummy. Jace?” She offered him the glass. “I am a man,” he told her, “and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman, and bring me something brown.” “Brown?” Isabelle made a face. “Brown is a manly color,” said Jace, and yanked on a stray lock of Isabelle’s hair with his free hand. “In fact, look – Alec is wearing it.” Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. “It was black,” he said. “But then it faded.” “You could dress it up with a sequined headband,” Magnus suggested, offering his boyfriend something blue and sparkly. “Just a thought.” “Resist the urge, Alec.” Simon was sitting on the edge of a low wall. “You’ll look like Olivia Newton-John in Xanadu.”

#tmi

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

is women who endure.