Title: Bonne Fille (Good Girl)
Fandom: The Mortal Instruments
Characters:Isabelle, Clary, Valentine, dream sequence!Alec

Prompt:#003: End
Word Count:1,470
Rating:K+
Summary: It’s a dream, a vision, some weird sort of hallucination. She’s facing her dead brother in a downpour of rain

Author's Notes: So, yeah…

Title: Christmas
Fandom: The Mortal Instruments
Characters:Isabelle, Clary, Jace, Alec, Magnus, Max, mentiones of Luke, Jocelyn, Maryse and Robert
Prompt:#92: Christmas
Word Count:1,219
Rating:K+
Summary:And although it’s been said, many times, many ways, merry Christmas to you.
Author's Notes: well, not much to say about this one. There’s no symbolism or inner meaning to it. It’s just Clary and the gang home for Christmas. It’s set at the Christmas the year the CoB and CoA take place, so I’m assuming that all the nasty business with Valentine is tied up, but I picture that Jocelyn was still pretty under the weather from being comatose and all. Happy Holidays, everyone!
[Unknown LJ tag]</lj>

They’ve always been close.

That’s why it happened, he supposes. They got closer and closer ‘till (snap), too close. Much too close.

She thinks he kinda sorta hates her for it and she kinda sorta hates him for it too except he has a legitimate reason and all she has is “By the angel, Alec, I’m fucking sorry, alright!’ But he won’t believe her because he knows she’s lying. He knows her the same way he loves her.

Inside and out.

---

Maybe they should have seen this coming, maybe they should have known.

He kinda hopes that it’s just a protective reflex, that it doesn’t mean anything, that it’s just him being an older brother.

The one and only time Maryse ever tried to normal-ify them was when he was thirteen and she was twelve and she enrolled them in a mundane school. They lasted four days until the school phoned their mother saying that a problem had “occurred” and it would be best if she came and picked them up right that very second.

They had sat there, side by side on the disgusting old couch in the nurse’s office, not facing each other, blood crusting on his upper lip and a purple bruise forming on the right side of her face. Isabelle spoke first.

“She called you a faggot.”

“He called you a whore.”

A pause.

“I knocked two of her teeth out.”

“I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.”

They smile at each other. It’s understood.

---

She’s twelve and he’s fourteen when everything changes. They change seven days shy of her thirteenth birthday and, suddenly, she doesn’t want to be with him anymore.

Avoiding him like the plague, she ducks into empty hallways and avoids his gaze, her dark eyes constantly downcast.

He catches her eventually, just like she knew he would. His fingers dug into her wrist as she twisted and wriggled to get away.

‘What’s wrong with you, Izzy?”

“Everything.”

She breaks free and runs. Knowing that those placid blue eyes were watching her only makes her want to run faster.

---

It’s always been the same, ever since they were kids.

Isabelle sparkles. She doesn’t need makeup or adoring best friends or lights. She sparkles all on her own. But they’re dangerous, these sparkles. They blind her. Sometimes people call the sparkles “ambition” and Isabelle calls those people ‘jealous” because she doesn’t how else to respond. She’s dangerous because she never hides anything. When she hates you, you know that she hates you. When she’s out to get you, you know she’s out to get you. Isabelle’s the kinda girl who shows all her teeth. All of them.

Alec smiles. Sweet and shy and shirking, Alec smiles. It takes a lot to make him smile but when he does, he’s beautiful. A lot of people think that because Alec smiles, he’s kind. But, in a sense, he’s even more dangerous than Isabelle. If she’s a shark, than he’s a hyena. Behind that smile is a pair of razor sharp teeth, except he doesn’t let you know they’re there until the second he curls back his lips to bite you.

---

They become closer the summer after Isabelle turns fourteen. By then, she’s corrupted with sparkles.

She’s a smart one, that Isabelle. She analyzes everything, scrutinizes everything. The world is her chess board and everyone she knows are simply pawns.

He’s smart too, Alec. He’s smart, but not the way Isabelle is smart. He’s smart in his right-brain; he sees things in quilt patterns and splatter paintings and boxes.

They know what they’ll need to succeed in life by now. They know perfectly well.

Isabelle needs someone to smile and Alec needs someone to sparkle.

---

That’s why they work well together. Because their personalities mix, they fit, they’re right.

That’s why Isabelle hates Jace.

She’ll never understand why Alec pines after him that way. Truthfully, it’s embarrassing. Why would he even want Jace anyway? She and Alec fit so much better together. Her poor brother is like a puzzle piece trying to smash itself into a spot where it didn’t quite fit, but liked a little better.

In the world according to Isabelle, unrequited love burns in hell.

---

He hates it when men look at her like that.

She thinks he doesn’t see it, but he does. Oh, he does. He sees the way they leer, the way they mentally peel off her dresses with their grimy, beady eyes.

Often times, it takes all of his self-restraint not to punch one of those bastards a good one in the nose and sees how pretty Isabelle looks then with a protective older brother standing next to her.

But, if he did that, Isabelle would cry and, by the Angel, does he hate to see her cry.

And she’s so, so pretty and he only wants to keep her like that. Only wants to keep her pretty and unshattered and beautiful and whole.

 He only wants to keep her happy.

---

That hug didn’t mean anything.

Not one damned thing.

It started with a joke, started with Isabelle deciding to be mean to him.

He was fixing the piano because the C-sharp was stuck and Jace, with his extensive knowledge of the universe and everything in it, couldn’t figure out how to fix it. So Alec was stuck with the job. Surprise, surprise.

She didn’t think that his head was so far bent in, or that his face was so close to the hammers, so she pressed a key.

The piano hammer got him right in the temple. He swore, jerking his head up and, thinking it was Jace, struck out with an open hand. She cried out as his palm caught her right across the cheek, stumbling backwards, tears of shock welling in her eyes.

“By the angel, Isabelle!” he muttered before drawing her up in a hug. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered, hoping that she wouldn’t be angry. Because all he wants is to keep her happy.

And it was a natural reaction and it means nothing in relation to how he felt about his sister. Nothing.

Because hanged men get hard-ons, for heaven’s sake.

Okay, maybe not the best comparison.

---

Parties are only interesting when Alec comes with her.

They’re boring without him because there’s nothing for her to do there but sparkle and with no one to smile the after-effects of the sparkle off of people, no one wants to talk to her.

But when she convinces Alec to come along, they’re terrific.

They sit together and gossip and point out the people in the room who might be having problems with their abilities and who might be pregnant and “’Did you hear that they’re together?’ ‘I know I never would have thought.’”

The best part is when they notice people staring at them, because they’re close, very close, but not too close. Not yet.

“That girl two seats behind you is staring.”

“She is?”

“Yeah.”

“Should I look?”

“No. She’s nothing special. Her tan is obviously spray-on and her jewelry is tacky and you can see the roots of her hair from over here and they’re a different color than the rest of her hair.”

“There’s a vampire in the left corner to our right who’s had his eyes trained on you all night.”

“Ugh. What does he look like?”

“Not good. Greasy hair, terrible teeth. He’s drunk.”

Neither of them have ever deemed any of the other’s potential suitors up-to-snuff.

---

It’s cold out, the snow drifting down from the sky as soft as feathers.

They’re on the balcony, their legs dangling between the bars and hanging down off the ledge. It’s just them, no Jace, who’s stuck inside with a nasty chest cold.

Isabelle thinks that the whole scenario is awful romantic and, damn did someone put something in her drink at the party because she turns to Alec and says the unthinkable.

“Alec, can kiss you?”

“Absolutely not.”

She leans in and does it anyway.

To her surprise, he kisses back.

---

They wake up the next day to find that nothing has changed.

Their parents are still distant and Jace is still frigid and Clary is still annoying and that mundane is still hell bent on winning Clary’s heart.

And Isabelle is still sparkling and Alec is still smiling and, to be honest, that’s the only constant they’ll ever need.