#tlh au

[rhiannons-bird]

okay espionage au idea, matthew and james are the perfect spy duo and get sent on a mission together (like picture james bond type stuff) where cordelia, a spy from a different agency, outmaneuvres them both and twists matthew around her finger so bad he fumbles the mission, james scolds him for it only to fall for her later and behave just as pathetically

could be herondaisy or heronfairstairs at your discretion

[kyloroud95]

Decidí hacer algo que muchos (ya sean artistas o no) han hecho, 5 años después de que se estrenó la serie, dicidí hacer mi propio OC. Ella es "Leslie Loud", hija del Ronniecoln, creada el 16 de Mayo del 2021

[jemsbitch]

Monty from the gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue is so Matthew Fairchild core

[unubinary]

Hestia missing au

Hestia is the one taking instead Hara

Leo is a champion for Hestia 

Leo’s Tía Callida is still Hera it to important to his character development

Hara/Juno realizing the Giants and Gaia are rising/awakening sees Hestia goes missing reminding what happened to her, getting the seven of the prophecy ready.

The start follows canon 

Jason not know jack shit

Piper and Leo’s memories of a trio with Jason still happen 

Japer is not happing (I don’t like it)

Grover comes with Annabeth instead of Buch 

why was Hastia is the one taken and not Hera, Hastia would assumedly be less noticeable hostage to raise the king of the Giants 

Hera still switch Percy and Jason 

Like I said similar to canon

[midnightbuckley]

sea and fire

a steddie fic - sequel to ichor and nectar

[kaitcreates]

TLH au where everything is the same up until when James stabs himself through the heart in CHOT. This time, he just dies. And the Herondale line continues on because Cordelia was pregnant.

[eggsandspam]

She’s being introduced into the story in the next update so here’s Impa! Head Honcho of the Hylian Order and surrogate mother figure for Zelda. I have a lot of interesting things planned for her so I hope you enjoy her design!

[beyondtheciouds]

Oct. 1914

Thomas Lightwood could not sleep.

The dreams plagued him day and night; consorts to his daily life. Friends that would never leave his side; Christopher's never ending screams an outlying nuisance coinciding with Alastair's heavy snoring and the whistles of the late night trains. He reluctantly rolled over on the stained mattress, his cool body only comforted by the familiar sounds of his lover; the hot breath on his back. The blankets had been tossed off Thomas in his restlessness; his long legs and big feet shaping the shadows off the wall of the small bedroom beyond the large bed frame.

The world was changing as he knew it would; the pain of death still fresh and present like a knife in his heart. This life he had found-- felt like a calling; here Thomas was unbound by the rules of the Clave and ungoverned by society. Here, they were not afraid of falling in love.

Here, they were free to fail as they had all failed Kit.

Thomas, unnerved by ghosts of the past, eagerly glanced at the old, worn raggedy chair in the corner; his olive army issued jacket draped over the arm-- the white band with the red cross still glistening with the copper scented mundane blood. The medic bag, open, medical instruments tossed on the floor without a care. His pants, still muddy and torn hanging off the back. His boots stiff by the door.

The trumpets would be sounding soon. A call that could not remain unanswered. Thomas was lucky, he did not have to live in the cold, canvas tents set up along the river bank.

Upon arrival, Alastair had smartly secured a room in a closeby boarding house and a job for himself serving food and ale to the soldiers.

Sophie was proud her son had chosen his own path; Sona too. Gideon was torn; he was ashamed Thomas had withheld so many secrets. So many things about his son he had not noticed.

Thomas didn't know if he could ever face his family again. He wasn't sure if the Lightwood name would die with him or Christopher.

Perhaps Alexander would carry it on for their parents. Do right by their heritage.

Thomas looked down; his internal clock destroyed by this insomnia as the sun rose beyond the yellowed curtains. He couldn't think about his little cousin without thinking of Kit and Anna.

All he had left behind.

His enormous hands were still stained crimson from the last man he had tried desperately to patch up before the last bomb had gone off, sending the two of them flying across the charred grass. The man's blood seeped into the seams of Thomas's skin despite the continuous scrubbing in the hours afterward. He could still hear their angry cries when he closed his eyes---tormented grown men begging Thomas to end their lives as the sirens blew in the town beyond the broken grain fields. Gunfire echoing in the groves of apple trees as horses trampled the cores and corpses. The cracking of the covered bridge reverberating like a whip. Blasts of heat and metal raining down on the already wounded. Limbs torn and ripped like branches oozing with red honey.

Screams. Screams. Screams.

Thomas had chosen to leave; he had chosen to help the mundanes in their war and the selfless act had cost him dearly. His mind was starting to unravel; his truths expelling from the depths of his soul.

How could he ever repay Alastair for leaving with him?