RE: Pangs, 6/?
anonymous
March 15 2016, 08:33:11 UTC
Suddenly, his big hands were wrapped around her throat. Isabelle went stiff with shock. Preston’s face was screwed up in anger and hatred, and blood was dripping down his nose, falling into her eyes. Distantly, she heard voices crying out in shock, and Alec yelling for them to stop. He appeared on the edge of Izzy’s vision, grabbing Preston and trying to pull him off. But Preston lashed out with his elbow, catching Alec across the face. He stumbled back, out of view.
Izzy used to half-second of distraction to her advantage. Preston was on his knees; there was just enough room for her to tuck her legs up to her chest and kick. His body curled inward and crashed down beside her. Izzy gasped for air as the pressure disappeared, black spots popping in and out of her vision. But there was no time for relief. Izzy scrambled on top of him again and straddled his chest, pinning his elbows down with her knees. He clawed at her thighs, but couldn’t get the leverage he needed to throw her off. Isabelle then punched him in the face, over and over again. His head snapped from side to side, and her fists were red from his bloodied nose.
Arms gripped her around the waist and dragged her off, struggling to maintain their grip on her as she continued to thrash and kick.
“Izzy, Izzy, that’s enough! Izzy, stop!”
As Alec hauled her away, the roaring in her ears faded. She realised that the whole class was looking at her, their expressions ranging from amusement to shock. The instructor had also returned, and was leaning over Preston, who was still on the ground, moaning.
“Just calm down,” Alec said. She glanced up at him. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and the corner of his lip was bleeding. Izzy’s heart sank; he was disappointed in her.
The instructor shot her a look over his shoulder, and Izzy realised she was going to get kicked out of the class. Her mother would be so angry. Dad would be sad. Her stomach began to clench and she felt light-headed.
“S-I’m sorry,” she said.
Preston shot her a deadly look, one hand cradling his nose. “Crazy little bitch,” he muttered.
Alec removed his arms from around her waist, and griped her shoulder instead - a warning not to attack again, but also a statement of solidarity. “She’d a Lightwood, Preston. Guess you can’t win against one in a real fight after all.”
Izzy looked up at him again, and he graced her with a tight smile. The knot in her stomach loosened. Alec didn’t hate her. Alec was proud of her. She didn’t regret it for a moment.
(Later, Dad hid a laugh behind his hand while Maryse merely quirked an eyebrow. “I did not teach you how to fight gracelessly,” she said. “But you are a Lightwood, and I suppose no one will forget that now.”
Isabelle had never been so proud to bear that name before.)
Alec tried to keep his word and take full responsibility for the Second Preston Incident, but Isabelle beat him to it. It was her fault things escalated, for letting her anger and pride get the better of her. So she stood tall in front of the instructor, tossed her ponytail, and said that it was all her idea.
None of the twenty-something witnesses came forward to deny it. If they had, Alec might have gotten suspended, and they’d rather see Izzy go. She was fine with that. The instructor believed her lies over Alec’s attempts to tell the truth, and suspended her from the class indefinitely, on account of being undisciplined and unmanageable. Isabelle felt strangely victorious, even when her parents grounded her on principle and Alec didn’t speak to her for a week.
Things changed, after that. Their parents decided that Alec and Izzy had had all the training they were going to get in Idris, and decided it was time to take them to New York.
Isabelle had mixed feelings about this. All her life, New York been ‘the place her parents disappear to’. She didn’t know what to expect, but in the end, it surprised her. The city was a sprawling, crowded, dirty mess, packed with Mundanes, Downworlders and Demons alike, and Isabelle loved it.
In Idris - beautiful, clean-cut Idris - everyone knew her name. She was a Lightwood, and yes, proud of it. But here, she could walk down the street, and just be another person. She could be no one, she could be anyone. The idea was exhilarating.
Of course, more training was needed before she could go out into the field. That was okay. The Institute was fascinating in its own right. The Shadowhunters who worked here were on the front lines, facing danger and mysteries every day. Izzy may not be allowed to fight real demons yet, but she could spend hours down in the labs, looking at all the creatures that were brought in. The lab technicians found her annoying at first, but old Doctor Widdowson realised that her interest was genuine, not just a product of boredom. He allowed her to tag along behind him like an eager puppy, showing her the ins and outs of decaying corpses. Her parents were surprised to see this, but Izzy knew better than she used to; she might be a bad girl, but she wasn’t stupid.
Alec hated everything else about New York. Unlike Isabelle, he was allowed to leave the Institute, and even tagged along with some of the more experienced hunters on low-level missions. This drove Izzy crazy with jealousy (and worry), and she interrogated him mercilessly every time he returned. He never had anything interesting to say, though - mostly he just complained about the smell, the public transport, and Mundanes.
Even so, there was one thing Alec did like about their new home, and that was Hodge Starkweather. Hodge wasn’t like all the other Shadowhunters in the building; he didn’t go out to fight, or stay and work quietly on missions. Nonetheless, he was one of the best fighters Izzy has ever met. At their parents’ instruction, she and Alec finished their physical training under his guidance.
Isabelle flourished under Hodge’s guidance, firstly because he was really hot, and secondly because he seemed to understand how much she struggled with her emotions.
“Passion is good,” he told her. “But you gotta use it right, and be in control of it. Don’t let it control you.”
Isabelle had heard those words before, but they sounded clearer, coming from him. Isabelle knew that Hodge was Bad in the same way that she, herself, could be Bad. He was trapped here in the Institute, for reasons she was not allowed to know. But she could guess that he’d done something terrible, disobeyed the Clave and let his feelings get the better of him. There was anger burning beneath his skin, and it looked so familiar.
Isabelle liked Hodge, but she didn’t want to be him. She knew that she had to be more in control of herself. When her blood ran hot and her mind went hazy, Isabelle instead tried to focus on her body and use it wisely. Slowly, her strategic ability improved. When her opponents taunted her, she didn’t rise to the bait; she merely defeated them with great pleasure.
She still couldn’t beat Alec, but that was okay. No one could beat Alec, and that was the way it should be.
RE: Pangs, 7/?
anonymous
March 16 2016, 15:24:04 UTC
I absolutely adore the way that you write this fic. I love that you included Preston because that story and Maryse's reaction say so much about Alec and Izzy's upbringing that I'm glad you show us Isabelle's interaction with him. She's a little fireball and I love it. Plus, her worrying about disappointing her brother when she kicked Preston's ass and her reaction to Alec sticking by her side, I just can't with these two. I've some serious Lightwood sibling feels from this fic. Can't wait to read more.
RE: Pangs, 7/?
anonymous
March 22 2016, 10:02:37 UTC
Crying forever! This fic is literal perfection, like we get to see so much of the inner workings of not only izzy, but the lightwoods as well before we get to "officially" meet them in canon and I so love the voice that you gave these characters. Izzy's borderline hero worship for Alec just fills me with so much feels and I can clearly see how her most beloved memory in 1x04 would be of Alec. Alec who is clearly closed off and have some issues with who he is, but has never failed to be there for izzy and helped her realize that she will never be alone in the world as long she has her brother.
"She still couldn’t beat Alec, but that was okay. No one could beat Alec, and that was the way it should be." - allll theeee feeels!!!! There's just so much trust and adoration there. I have to ask though, the line about izzy thinking it's funny that the other girls find Alec hot, is it because she already sensed that he was gay? It would be interesting to see how she found that out about Alec, especially since it's portrayed that she has always known and has always accepted it about her brother. Her own way of paying Alec back I guess for all the support he might or might have known he has provided her with all these years.
Lastly, best forensic pathologist izzy is just the best. And yes so much for the backstory of how that came about. That little tidbit is just so awesome and I swear people who were saying izzy was just a hot bod before better have changed their tune after that fact was revealed, or else I will legit riot in front of their houses. But this made me tear up "but Izzy knew better than she used to; she might be a bad girl, but she wasn’t stupid." because izzy, as confident as she is still plagued by this notions still, and it makes her so wonderfully human, like I am turning into such an Izzy fan girl because of this fic! And I also sort of hate maryse at the same time for integrating that in izzy's mind, she's not a bad girl, she's such a wonderful person and given the chance, the best daughter maryse could have asked for and it's just so sad that she's being influenced by maryse's perceptions!!!
So I was just supposed to say, this prompt response is perfect buuuut things got away from me, anyway, please write more soon! I am definitely obsessed with this story. Also, ever thought of posting in AO3 or something?
Hi! This is such a stupidly late reply, but thank you so much for the lovely comment :) I appreciate the feedback, and the time and effort you put into it. Glad you're enjoying it; I've taken a hiatus, but I love writing the Lightwood sibs so much. I will indeed be putting this on Ao3 once it is all finished :D
Soon after their move to New York, two cataclysmic events happened to Isabelle: puberty and Jace Wayland.
She first laid eyes on Jace when their parents brought him back from Idris. He was pretty cute, even for a skinny boy with a wary scowl on his face. He spoke to their parents with respect and charm, and seemed to appreciate the comforting arm Maryse had placed around his shoulders. Her parents looked calm and composed as ever, but there was tension behind their eyes - Isabelle read the message loud and clear: this boy is a part of your life now. Don’t ask questions, just accept it.
It was like being presented with Max all over again, except Max was adorable and innocent and theirs. Jace Wayland was a whole, grown person with unknown history. He was new and dangerous. Isabelle usually liked those things, but he merely regarded her with a haughty, suspicious glance, flicking his eyes up and down and then looking away. A dismissal. Isabelle’s hopeful, half-formed crush (because he was blonde and pouty and his eyes were different colours like some character in a novel, come on) fizzled out quickly.
“... Alec is also highly accomplished at Judo,” her mother was saying. “Perhaps you two could learn something from each other.”
“Perhaps,” Jace agreed, giving Alec the exact same, unimpressed once-over. But this time, there was a glint in his eye - like a hunter glimpsing its prey for the first time.
Well, that settled it. Jace Wayland was an ass.
Isabelle raised her eyebrow at Alec, looking for solidarity and a shared feeling of, “Can you believe this?” But he didn’t meet her look. He seemed to have forgotten she was even in the room - his eyes were fixed on Jace, and though his expression was carefully neutral and expectant - taking orders from Mom and Dad, as usual - there was something soft in the lines of his posture, something she’d never seen before.
Alec had taken his instruction to look after Jace very seriously. He started by showing him the homier parts of the Institute, such as where he would be sleeping and where the kitchen was. Jace took this in without comment, looking neither disappointed nor impressed. He had come with very few of his own possessions - just his stele and a bag full of clothes (which she suspected her parents might have given him, anyway).
“It doesn’t look like much,” she offered. “But we could go shopping, get some stuff to make it comfier.”
“Oh yeah?” Jace said. “Like what?”
Isabelle was momentarily stumped. What did teenage boys decorate their rooms with, anyway? Naked pinups? Motorbikes? Alec was no help as a benchmark, his room’s aesthetic lay somewhere between Spartan and medieval. And not cool-medieval, more like celibate-monk-medieval. “Posters?” she eventually suggested. “I don’t know, a new bedspread?”
Jace turned to her with a wicked smirk - the kind she normally associated with demons, bullies, and other things that wanted to attack her. “With some cute stuffed animals, so I can cuddle them at night and forget about my dead daddy?” he said mockingly.
Isabelle blinked, not knowing whether to feel angry at his tone or shocked at the sudden information that his father was dead. He made up her mind for her when he shook his head and snorted. “Pathetic. Where’s the training room?”
Isabelle’s hands balled into fists. Alec, his eyes swivelling between them, sensed that an immediate intervention was needed. “Training room is this way. What weapon do you favour?”
They passed Isabelle’s room on the way to the training room. Jace poked his head in without invitation. There was a teddy bear and a stuffed unicorn on the bed, taking pride of place beside her pillow. He didn’t say anything but Isabelle read smugness in the lines of his shoulders.
Isabelle decided that she’d never wanted to kill any demon more than she wanted to wring Jace Wayland’s neck.
Jace beat Alec at Judo. He also beat him at fencing, sai, and just about every other discipline that you could kick a guy’s ass in. The only thing he couldn’t quite do was archery, but that’s didn’t seem to bother him. Isabelle waited for Alec to get mad or resentful, but he only seemed increasingly impressed. She was staring to hate both of them.
Jace invited Isabelle to face him on the floor, and finally, a frown crossed Alec’s face. He needn’t have worried. Much as Isabelle wanted to kick Jace’s ass, she knew that she couldn’t, and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of throwing her around today.
“No thanks,” she said, tossing her hair. “I just showered.”
Jace snorted, and she could practically hear him thinking, Stupid, pathetic little girl. Well, let him think that. Yes, she was a girl. But she wasn’t stupid. She had more brains in her left baby toe than he did under all that golden hair, and Isabelle couldn’t wait until the day that Jace Wayland realised it.
Suddenly, his big hands were wrapped around her throat. Isabelle went stiff with shock. Preston’s face was screwed up in anger and hatred, and blood was dripping down his nose, falling into her eyes. Distantly, she heard voices crying out in shock, and Alec yelling for them to stop. He appeared on the edge of Izzy’s vision, grabbing Preston and trying to pull him off. But Preston lashed out with his elbow, catching Alec across the face. He stumbled back, out of view.
Izzy used to half-second of distraction to her advantage. Preston was on his knees; there was just enough room for her to tuck her legs up to her chest and kick. His body curled inward and crashed down beside her. Izzy gasped for air as the pressure disappeared, black spots popping in and out of her vision. But there was no time for relief. Izzy scrambled on top of him again and straddled his chest, pinning his elbows down with her knees. He clawed at her thighs, but couldn’t get the leverage he needed to throw her off. Isabelle then punched him in the face, over and over again. His head snapped from side to side, and her fists were red from his bloodied nose.
Arms gripped her around the waist and dragged her off, struggling to maintain their grip on her as she continued to thrash and kick.
“Izzy, Izzy, that’s enough! Izzy, stop!”
As Alec hauled her away, the roaring in her ears faded. She realised that the whole class was looking at her, their expressions ranging from amusement to shock. The instructor had also returned, and was leaning over Preston, who was still on the ground, moaning.
“Just calm down,” Alec said. She glanced up at him. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and the corner of his lip was bleeding. Izzy’s heart sank; he was disappointed in her.
The instructor shot her a look over his shoulder, and Izzy realised she was going to get kicked out of the class. Her mother would be so angry. Dad would be sad. Her stomach began to clench and she felt light-headed.
“S-I’m sorry,” she said.
Preston shot her a deadly look, one hand cradling his nose. “Crazy little bitch,” he muttered.
Alec removed his arms from around her waist, and griped her shoulder instead - a warning not to attack again, but also a statement of solidarity. “She’d a Lightwood, Preston. Guess you can’t win against one in a real fight after all.”
Izzy looked up at him again, and he graced her with a tight smile. The knot in her stomach loosened. Alec didn’t hate her. Alec was proud of her. She didn’t regret it for a moment.
(Later, Dad hid a laugh behind his hand while Maryse merely quirked an eyebrow. “I did not teach you how to fight gracelessly,” she said. “But you are a Lightwood, and I suppose no one will forget that now.”
Isabelle had never been so proud to bear that name before.)
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None of the twenty-something witnesses came forward to deny it. If they had, Alec might have gotten suspended, and they’d rather see Izzy go. She was fine with that. The instructor believed her lies over Alec’s attempts to tell the truth, and suspended her from the class indefinitely, on account of being undisciplined and unmanageable. Isabelle felt strangely victorious, even when her parents grounded her on principle and Alec didn’t speak to her for a week.
Things changed, after that. Their parents decided that Alec and Izzy had had all the training they were going to get in Idris, and decided it was time to take them to New York.
Isabelle had mixed feelings about this. All her life, New York been ‘the place her parents disappear to’. She didn’t know what to expect, but in the end, it surprised her. The city was a sprawling, crowded, dirty mess, packed with Mundanes, Downworlders and Demons alike, and Isabelle loved it.
In Idris - beautiful, clean-cut Idris - everyone knew her name. She was a Lightwood, and yes, proud of it. But here, she could walk down the street, and just be another person. She could be no one, she could be anyone. The idea was exhilarating.
Of course, more training was needed before she could go out into the field. That was okay. The Institute was fascinating in its own right. The Shadowhunters who worked here were on the front lines, facing danger and mysteries every day. Izzy may not be allowed to fight real demons yet, but she could spend hours down in the labs, looking at all the creatures that were brought in. The lab technicians found her annoying at first, but old Doctor Widdowson realised that her interest was genuine, not just a product of boredom. He allowed her to tag along behind him like an eager puppy, showing her the ins and outs of decaying corpses. Her parents were surprised to see this, but Izzy knew better than she used to; she might be a bad girl, but she wasn’t stupid.
Alec hated everything else about New York. Unlike Isabelle, he was allowed to leave the Institute, and even tagged along with some of the more experienced hunters on low-level missions. This drove Izzy crazy with jealousy (and worry), and she interrogated him mercilessly every time he returned. He never had anything interesting to say, though - mostly he just complained about the smell, the public transport, and Mundanes.
Even so, there was one thing Alec did like about their new home, and that was Hodge Starkweather. Hodge wasn’t like all the other Shadowhunters in the building; he didn’t go out to fight, or stay and work quietly on missions. Nonetheless, he was one of the best fighters Izzy has ever met. At their parents’ instruction, she and Alec finished their physical training under his guidance.
Isabelle flourished under Hodge’s guidance, firstly because he was really hot, and secondly because he seemed to understand how much she struggled with her emotions.
“Passion is good,” he told her. “But you gotta use it right, and be in control of it. Don’t let it control you.”
Isabelle had heard those words before, but they sounded clearer, coming from him. Isabelle knew that Hodge was Bad in the same way that she, herself, could be Bad. He was trapped here in the Institute, for reasons she was not allowed to know. But she could guess that he’d done something terrible, disobeyed the Clave and let his feelings get the better of him. There was anger burning beneath his skin, and it looked so familiar.
Isabelle liked Hodge, but she didn’t want to be him. She knew that she had to be more in control of herself. When her blood ran hot and her mind went hazy, Isabelle instead tried to focus on her body and use it wisely. Slowly, her strategic ability improved. When her opponents taunted her, she didn’t rise to the bait; she merely defeated them with great pleasure.
She still couldn’t beat Alec, but that was okay. No one could beat Alec, and that was the way it should be.
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"She still couldn’t beat Alec, but that was okay. No one could beat Alec, and that was the way it should be." - allll theeee feeels!!!! There's just so much trust and adoration there. I have to ask though, the line about izzy thinking it's funny that the other girls find Alec hot, is it because she already sensed that he was gay? It would be interesting to see how she found that out about Alec, especially since it's portrayed that she has always known and has always accepted it about her brother. Her own way of paying Alec back I guess for all the support he might or might have known he has provided her with all these years.
Lastly, best forensic pathologist izzy is just the best. And yes so much for the backstory of how that came about. That little tidbit is just so awesome and I swear people who were saying izzy was just a hot bod before better have changed their tune after that fact was revealed, or else I will legit riot in front of their houses. But this made me tear up "but Izzy knew better than she used to; she might be a bad girl, but she wasn’t stupid." because izzy, as confident as she is still plagued by this notions still, and it makes her so wonderfully human, like I am turning into such an Izzy fan girl because of this fic! And I also sort of hate maryse at the same time for integrating that in izzy's mind, she's not a bad girl, she's such a wonderful person and given the chance, the best daughter maryse could have asked for and it's just so sad that she's being influenced by maryse's perceptions!!!
So I was just supposed to say, this prompt response is perfect buuuut things got away from me, anyway, please write more soon! I am definitely obsessed with this story. Also, ever thought of posting in AO3 or something?
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She first laid eyes on Jace when their parents brought him back from Idris. He was pretty cute, even for a skinny boy with a wary scowl on his face. He spoke to their parents with respect and charm, and seemed to appreciate the comforting arm Maryse had placed around his shoulders. Her parents looked calm and composed as ever, but there was tension behind their eyes - Isabelle read the message loud and clear: this boy is a part of your life now. Don’t ask questions, just accept it.
It was like being presented with Max all over again, except Max was adorable and innocent and theirs. Jace Wayland was a whole, grown person with unknown history. He was new and dangerous. Isabelle usually liked those things, but he merely regarded her with a haughty, suspicious glance, flicking his eyes up and down and then looking away. A dismissal. Isabelle’s hopeful, half-formed crush (because he was blonde and pouty and his eyes were different colours like some character in a novel, come on) fizzled out quickly.
“... Alec is also highly accomplished at Judo,” her mother was saying. “Perhaps you two could learn something from each other.”
“Perhaps,” Jace agreed, giving Alec the exact same, unimpressed once-over. But this time, there was a glint in his eye - like a hunter glimpsing its prey for the first time.
Well, that settled it. Jace Wayland was an ass.
Isabelle raised her eyebrow at Alec, looking for solidarity and a shared feeling of, “Can you believe this?” But he didn’t meet her look. He seemed to have forgotten she was even in the room - his eyes were fixed on Jace, and though his expression was carefully neutral and expectant - taking orders from Mom and Dad, as usual - there was something soft in the lines of his posture, something she’d never seen before.
Isabelle’s stomach twisted.
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“It doesn’t look like much,” she offered. “But we could go shopping, get some stuff to make it comfier.”
“Oh yeah?” Jace said. “Like what?”
Isabelle was momentarily stumped. What did teenage boys decorate their rooms with, anyway? Naked pinups? Motorbikes? Alec was no help as a benchmark, his room’s aesthetic lay somewhere between Spartan and medieval. And not cool-medieval, more like celibate-monk-medieval. “Posters?” she eventually suggested. “I don’t know, a new bedspread?”
Jace turned to her with a wicked smirk - the kind she normally associated with demons, bullies, and other things that wanted to attack her. “With some cute stuffed animals, so I can cuddle them at night and forget about my dead daddy?” he said mockingly.
Isabelle blinked, not knowing whether to feel angry at his tone or shocked at the sudden information that his father was dead. He made up her mind for her when he shook his head and snorted. “Pathetic. Where’s the training room?”
Isabelle’s hands balled into fists. Alec, his eyes swivelling between them, sensed that an immediate intervention was needed. “Training room is this way. What weapon do you favour?”
They passed Isabelle’s room on the way to the training room. Jace poked his head in without invitation. There was a teddy bear and a stuffed unicorn on the bed, taking pride of place beside her pillow. He didn’t say anything but Isabelle read smugness in the lines of his shoulders.
Isabelle decided that she’d never wanted to kill any demon more than she wanted to wring Jace Wayland’s neck.
Jace beat Alec at Judo. He also beat him at fencing, sai, and just about every other discipline that you could kick a guy’s ass in. The only thing he couldn’t quite do was archery, but that’s didn’t seem to bother him. Isabelle waited for Alec to get mad or resentful, but he only seemed increasingly impressed. She was staring to hate both of them.
Jace invited Isabelle to face him on the floor, and finally, a frown crossed Alec’s face. He needn’t have worried. Much as Isabelle wanted to kick Jace’s ass, she knew that she couldn’t, and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of throwing her around today.
“No thanks,” she said, tossing her hair. “I just showered.”
Jace snorted, and she could practically hear him thinking, Stupid, pathetic little girl. Well, let him think that. Yes, she was a girl. But she wasn’t stupid. She had more brains in her left baby toe than he did under all that golden hair, and Isabelle couldn’t wait until the day that Jace Wayland realised it.
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