fearlesssisters



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    Stiles slid the rest of the way to his knees, fumbling his phone as he wheezed into it, “Stu, buddy. Get up here now.”

     

    "What’s wrong? Shit, is he dead? Oh my god, he’s totally dead, isn’t he?"

     

    "No, shut up. Just… you need to get up here and see this. If he kills me first, at least one of us will have died happy."

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    06 Aug 2020

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    Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

    Except, apparently, Stiles.

    Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

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    06 Aug 2020

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    Maia takes a deep breath, looking up to catch his gaze. Her face twitches, caught in a pre-emptive wince. “Alec’s getting married,” she says. "To a man this time. Khalid Elmasry of the Cairo Institute.”

    “Oh,” Magnus says, careful to make sure his face is wiped of all expression. “I see.”

    (Or: Everyone in the Shadow World thinks Alec Lightwood is getting married to the strong, handsome Shadowhunter visiting from Egypt... except for Alec.)

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    06 Aug 2020

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    Alec is absolutely certain he hasn’t moved. He’s still seated at his desk, catching his breath; still has the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. Despite knowing that, being fully aware of his body’s position the way he’s been trained to do his entire life, somehow he opens his eyes to find himself lying down in a dark room.

    There’s a man in his arms. With every exhale, Alec’s breath ruffles someone else’s hair.

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    06 Aug 2020

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    “Last time we called the memory demon--” Alec starts.

    Magnus theatrically rolls his eyes. “When we called Valak you were a miserable teenager, in love with your brother. You had something to hide. It isn’t going to be like that this time.”

    When Magnus had changed, he’d pulled on tight pants and an ornate emerald green jacket, open to his sternum to show off the necklaces he has layered on. His makeup is perfect now, smudges of kohl transformed into dark black lines. He looks every bit the High Warlock again, no longer like some late night fantasy created solely to torment Alec.

    Alec forces a brittle smile. “Sure,” he says.

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    06 Aug 2020