Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8747269.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Mortal_Instruments_Series_-_Cassandra_Clare
  Relationship:
      Clary_Fray/Jonathan_Christopher_Morgenstern_|_Sebastian_Verlac, Clary
      Fray/Valentine_Morgenstern
  Character:
      Clary_Fray, Jonathan_Christopher_Morgenstern_|_Sebastian_Verlac,
      Valentine_Morgenstern, Jace_Wayland
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Parent/Child_Incest, Sibling_Incest, Incest,
      I'm_Going_to_Hell, First_Time, My_First_Fanfic, Porn_With_Plot, Smut,
      Pregnancy_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-11 Updated: 2017-11-04 Chapters: 9/? Words: 36766
****** Bloodlines ******
by The_Lady_Rhae
Summary
     Hey so remember way back when in CoG when Valentine tasked Jonathan
     with bringing Clary to him well my depraved mind thought a version
     where he took Clary back to Valentine should exist in this world. The
     usual Clonathan pairings and twisted desires but also throwing in a
     pent up lonely Valentine who sees his daughter as his wife returned
     to him from before her betrayal. Seeking to further his experiments
     with his daughter as his new subject while turning a blind eye to his
     son's ever growing obsession with his little sister. Can Clary
     survive being pulled apart at the seems by her father and brother, or
     will she be overcome by her families darkness.
Notes
     Disclaimer: Obviously I'm not Cassandra Clare no matter how much my
     bank account wishes I was. These are not my characters this is not my
     world, I own nothing except the depraved twist I added to this
     brilliant work of fiction.
     Clearly in the warnings you have seen this is graphic explicit
     content if you are under the age of 18 get out. I don't really have a
     plan for where this is going just thought of something so sexually
     explicit that the devil sent me a text saying see you soon so I
     thought yeah I'll share that with others and drag them down with me.
     You have been warned repeatedly so don't try to complain about it
     later. Enjoy.
***** Taken *****
Chapter Notes
     Unbetad and mostly typed on my cell phone. Take that however you may
     and try not to judge me too harshly.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"Wrong?" The hurt on his face vanished, replaced by disbelief. "Clary, we have
a connection. You know we do. Since the first second I saw you—"
"Sebastian, don't—"
"I felt like you were someone I'd always been waiting for. I saw you felt it
too. Don't tell me you didn't."
But that hadn't been what she'd felt. She'd felt as if she'd walked around a
corner in a strange city and suddenly seen her own brownstone looming up in
front of her. A surprising and not entirely pleasant recognition, almost: How
can this be here?
"I didn't," she said.
The anger that rose in his eyes—sudden, dark, uncontrolled—took her by
surprise. He caught her wrists in a painful grasp. "That's not true."
She tried to pull away. "Sebastian—"
"It's not true." The blackness of his eyes seemed to have swallowed up the
pupils. His face was like a white mask, stiff and rigid.
"Sebastian," she said as calmly as she could. "You're hurting me."
-The Mortal Instruments City of Glass by Cassandra Clare
"I'm sorry Clarissa this isn't how I planned on this day going." He loosened
his grip on her wrist by a fraction not letting go entirely but no longer
causing her pain.
"It's fine, you can't blame yourself for Fell not wanting to help me. Just let
me go and take me back to the city I left a note for Amatis but she's probably
worried sick." She hoped the knowledge that someone knew she was with him would
snap him out of whatever trance he was in but the darkness remained in his eyes
gleaming like a those of a predator preparing to dive in for the kill. Clary
wouldn't even admit it to herself in this moment but she was terrified. She
yanked at her wrist again hoping to pull it free, "Please Sebastian, my brother
is probably worried sick about me."
He tightened his grip on her wrist then ran his other hand up her arm pulling
the sleeve of her coat up with it revealing the milky white flesh beneath. "I
doubt your brother is worried all that much Angel." 'How could I be worried
when I have you all to myself away from any prying eyes' He thought to himself
as his sweet sister continued to struggle against him.
"My name Is Clary not angel and I would appreciate it if you would let go of me
now and take me back to the city Sebastian." Clary was actively panicking now
and trying not to show it as she attempted to keep her voice steady and look
him in the eyes. She couldn't understand what he meant by his last statement
all she knew was that she didn't like the way he was looking at her exposed
flesh.
"Oh my sweet Clarissa that is not my name and I'm afraid I wont be taking you
back to the city anytime soon, orders are orders and I can't disappoint father
he is so looking forward to seeing you again." He wrapped one of his arms
around her chest to hold her in place and used the other to grab his stele out
of his weapons belt. She was openly struggling against him at this point
unsuccessfully.
"I don't under-AHH!" She cried out as she felt him carve a rune into her arm.
"My name is Jonathan sweet sister of mine and Jace wont be coming to save you."
Clary fell against his chest unable to support her own weight as the rune took
effect
"That's impossible, please just let me go..." Clary's voice was fading as she
fell slack against her brothers chest. He gathered her slight form into his
arms as she lost consciousness then placed her upon the dead mans horse before
mounting it behind her. He felt the curves and contours of her relaxed body
mold into his own and could barely suppress a groan as her head lolled to the
side exposing a pale strip of flesh amid her fiery curls. His gaze followed the
path of freckles dusted along her neck that vanished down into her coat between
her breasts.
Jonathan couldn't resist tilting his head down to nuzzle his face against such
temptation as his mouth ghosted over the column of her throat he traced the
delicate patterns of freckles with his tongue. Roused slightly by the cool
sensation on her neck she faintly moaned on protest. "Please...st...stop...Jace
help me."
At the sound of the Angel boy's name on his sisters lips Jonathan's entire
demeanor shifted as he tightened his hold on the semi-conscious woman in his
arms and nipped at her ear with his incisors and threateningly whispered in her
ear as she groaned in protest completely lost to the power of the ruin. "You
are mine now sweet sister always and forever. Your Jace may try to take you
from me but I will tear him and anyone else apart if they dare come between us.
He took everything from me, he will not have you as well." Jonathan didn't
particularly care if his sister heard his declaration as she finally slipped
away from the waking world, it wasn't a promise to her after all. It was a
promise to himself, he was forced to grow up without love but now he was
stronger and no one could make him continue live without it.
He settled his sisters form against him and set off for the cottage where their
father was waiting. He was almost regretful for having to turn her over to
whatever hell his father had planned for her but she was strong and had already
proved herself capable of handling their father.
A gentle smile appeared on his face as he looked down at her and recalled
Valentine's fury as he recounted Clary's destruction of his ship with one rune.
Yes his sister was strong it will be a pleasure to break her.
-----------------
As he arrived at the cottage and dismounted he pulled Clary into his arms and
walked inside. Their father was sitting at the table going over the summoning
rituals and looked up when he entered. The twisted leer he gave Clary's
sleeping form made Jonathan sick to his stomach.
"Excellent work Jonathan you can place your sister in her bedroom then go back
to the city and wait for nightfall tomorrow to take down the wards." The
disinterest of his words not matching the way his eyes followed them as he
entered the room further. Jonathan wanted to protest but years of being beaten
into submission have taught him to hold his tongue.'Now isn't the time, soon,
but not now. The quicker I leave the quicker I can get back.' He thought to
himself as he carried his sister down the hall to the room made up for her.
"I'll come back to you soon Angel and then nothing will ever keep us apart
again." Jonathan placed his sister on the bed carefully then bent down to kiss
her forehead as Valentine looked on from the doorway. The younger man paused in
front of his father halfway through the door as if to speak but seemed to think
better of it and continue on his way.
Valentine closed the door behind his retreating son and locked door before
replacing the key into his pocket. He then walked over to the bed where his
daughter lay and sat down. He almost couldn't believe how much she looked like
Jocelyn, before she betrayed him...when she still loved him. He reached a hand
out and wound a lock of her hair around his fingers he ran his hand through her
hair then trailed it down her clothed arm. When he got to the sleeve of her
coat he pulled it up to reveal the rune Jonathan used to render her
unconscious, it was fading more rapidly than expected.
He took her coat and shoes off then walked out of the room to his study,
placing the articles down he proceeded to the closet and grabbed three lengths
of rope and a knife then went back to the room where his daughter lay
unconscious.
Approaching the bed he unwound the rope and and placed the knife on the bedside
table then proceeded to tie it to Clary's right wrist then weave it through the
headboard before attaching her left wrist. He repeated the process with each of
her legs tying them spread open to either corner of the bed posts with just
enough slack for her knees to bend. He stepped back to admire his handy work.
Now that she was properly secured Valentine ran his hands along her body and
the delicate curve of her hips and back digging his fingers into her soft
pliant ass before he found what he was looking for. He reached into her back
pocket and removed the stele that his wife carried oh so long ago. Having what
he desired he removed his hands from her body put the instrument in his pocket
and watched as she began to stir a little more insistently.
"It's time to wake up Clarissa there is much to discuss." Valentine said as the
teenage girl eased more and more into the waking world. Her eyes open and again
he was faced with how much like her mother she looked.
"Where am I?" Still half dazed she tried to sit up before realizing her wrists
we bound and attached to the headboard she looked down to see her legs treated
in a similar fashion. Upon her realization she became fully conscious but still
not totally aware of the situation.
"Where you belong Clarissa, with your family." Valentine said as he sat down at
the foot of the bed watching the panic overtake her eyes.
"You are not my family. You've taken me from them, but they'll find me and you
will die."
"Such big words for such a little girl. Tell me of those degenerates and
traitors you call your family who will be the one to end me? The only person
strong enough would be Jonathan but you remember how that happened last time,
he couldn't do it and now the Clave will bow to me."
"You really are insane no wonder Mom left you." Clary tried to throw a barb at
the psychopath currently an arms length away from her. Valentine was not
amused.
"You're mother betrayed me and took with her my greatest success."
"I don't think you can really take credit for the mortal cup, after all it was
Raziel who made it not you." Clary responded confused by his words but trying
not to show it.
"You misunderstand dear one my greatest success is not that useless hunk of
adamas, but you my sweet daughter. My unintentional experiment you who have all
the power of the Heaven flowing through you veins. That rune you brother gave
you would have knocked anyone else out for a full day at least. You've
recovered in an hour. Not to even mention your little stunt with the opening
rune. You are so much more powerful than I could have ever expected and I'd be
a fool to underestimate you again." During Valentine's monologue he inched
himself closer to Clary's bound form and placed his hand on her leg running it
up her calf as if stroking something precious. She used the slack in the rope
to pull her leg away, but this only caused him to come closer, she resolutely
ignored the lustful look in Valentine's eyes as he was once again privy too the
sight of her exposed flesh.
"I was so focused on making the perfect warrior I sacrificed my own son to a
demon that now walks in his skin and thinks itself human, but that soulless
creature will never understand anything more than bloodshed and anger. I tried
again with the Herondale boy using angel blood instead, but though I love him
for it Jace will always be too soft. I had given up, then I heard about you. I
didn't know Jocelyn was pregnant when she ran, but I heard a few years after
she left me rumors that she had given birth to a little redheaded girl who
could only have been my child."
"Why are you telling me all of this? What do you want from me?" Fear and panic
in her voice it was all she could do not to cry at the situation.
"You look just like her. I'm sure you must hear that all the time." Valentine
said as his hand crept further up her leg, the other moving to her hip as she
tried to squirm away.
"You would have been perfect in every way if you mother hadn't taken you from
me. I would have raised you to be a warrior stronger, faster, and smarter than
any other, but she took that from me, from you. My perfect avenging angel you
would have been, but now you're soft." His hand at her hip squeezed and felt
the give in the flesh there and Valentine couldn't help but groan despite the
looks of horror and disgust on his daughter's face. He was practically on top
of her at this point his hand that had been stroking her legs moved up to her
waist then to the delicate underside of her breasts.
"Please stop I'll do anything else just please let me go." Clary was openly
crying now wanting to scream for help but knowing there was no one around for
miles. Her father lying on top of her now buried his face in her hair and
inhaled.
"I'm afraid I won't be doing that Clarissa I won't be letting you go ever
again. You are my gift from God a sign that my path is true and righteous. He
has given me my wife returned to me as she was when we first fell in love
before her betrayal, and the means to create my perfect warriors."
Clary pulled hard at the ropes that bound her to the point where her wrists
bleed from the strain. Tears ran down her face as she rubbed tree wrists raw
against the rope trying to get away, she let out a helpless sob as her father
continued to run his hands along her body.
"You are the key something changed inside of you from the angel blood I gave
your mother, yet it didn't make you soft and weak as it did Jace. No my
daughter you are strong and together we will create a new race of shadowhunters
more powerful than all of those before them."
"NO, PLEASE DON'T! ANYTHING BUT THAT PLEASE JUST LET ME GO! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP
ME!!!" Clary didn't care about the futility of her screams not with what she
currently faced as Valentine removed his hand from her breast and reached over
to retrieve the knife from the bedside table. He ran the steel blade along
Clary's stomach before digging it into the waistband of her jeans.
"Stop struggling or I might cut you on accident. I don't want this to be any
more painful than it has to be, you are still my daughter after all I do care
for your well being." Valentine ran the knife along the seam of her jeans eyes
burning with lust at the flesh exposed to him.
"Exactly I'm your daughter! Your flesh and blood how could you even consider
this!?!?!?!" Trying to convey her rage and confusion through choked sobs as her
father repeated the process on her other pant leg. The jeans fell away exposing
her lower half to the deranged man above her. There was a dusting of freckles
up her legs that increased in number the closer they got to the apex of her
thighs where they disappeared beneath her plain green cotton underwear.
"Let's be honest Clarissa after everything I did to you while you were in your
mother's womb you're barely even human." He whispered the last bit in her ear
barely able to restrain himself at the sight laid out before him.
He ran his tongue up her jaw from her ear and captured her mouth in a bruising
kiss biting at her lips when she refused to open them until the kiss tasted of
her blood. He ran the knife up her side causing her to gasp and open her mouth,
his tongue dove in at the opening he shoved it down her throat all but choking
her with it till she bit down on the sensitive organ in retaliation.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH" Clary screamed out as Valentine stabbed the knife into the
exposed flesh of her thigh then twisted it for good measure before removing it
and quickly cutting away her shirt to reveal the black bra beneath. "Just relax
daughter it will make things so much easier on yourself in the long run."
"Please don't do this to me. I'm a virgin, please anything but this." Clary
could no longer see through the tears as she pleaded with her father to no
avail. She felt the bed shift as he climbed off of her. Clary turned her head
believing that maybe he decided against raping her only to see Valentine
removing his clothes before mounting her again completely naked.
"Don't worry about it Clarissa just lie back and think of England and I'll do
the rest, it will only hurt for a moment I swear." Valentine used the knife to
cut away the last barriers between them and Clary was exposed. He ran a hand up
and down the side of her body feeling the exposed flesh then stopped on her
breast his thumb reaching out to circle her nipple not quite touching it but
keeping up a consistent stimulation as Clary squeezed her eyes shut actively
trying to pretend that she wasn't here and this wasn't happening to her as
choked sobs escaped from her throat. He watched her nipple swell with arousal
from the stimulation and bent his head to take it into his mouth, he repeated
the circling motion with his tongue before scraping his teeth across the
sensitive flesh causing Clary to arch her back in shock and a surprised moan to
escape from between her clenched lips.
He placed the hand that had been holding her hip at the apex of her thigh and
slid his finger along her tight dry entrance. He detached his mouth from her
breast and moved it down her body licking and sucking as he went before he
reached her cunt and sucked her clit into his mouth causing Clary to arch
completely off the bed pulling at her bindings as she let out a scream of
pleasure embarrassed at the sound before it was even done passing from her
lips. "Your mother was a screamer to." Valentine said as he chuckled to
himself. "You are disgusting" Clary said through clenched teeth though the
effect was ruined by her hips bucking up to meet his mouth. Encouraged by her
reactions Valentine shoved his tongue into her cunt with no prelude and groaned
at the sensation of her core tightening around the invasion. He thrust his
tongue into her entrance moistening the cavern enough for him to stick a finger
inside of her.
The way her body reacted to yet another unfamiliarity had Valentine groaning
into Clary's pussy, she was so tight around just his finger the thought of how
she'll feel wrapped around his rigid dick caused him to harden even more with
desire and the groan he released vibrated through her forcing a tortured wanton
moan from Clary's lips. He inserted a second finger and Clary continued to
whimper helplessly beneath him as he devoured her cunt.
Tears ran down Clary's face as her Father continued his assault on her body
shamed at her weakness and her bodies reactions. Growing up in a crowded city
she'd always been told to be weary of strangers on the subway, and of being
caught alone in an isolated allly. Rape was a thing society liked to warn
against but she never actually thought it would happen to her and especially
not by someone she knew.
She cried out when he had removed her clothes.
She cried out when he placed his hands on her body.
She cried out when he thrust his tongue into her cunt.
She just cried when the orgasm forced it's way through her body.
She moaned, and groaned, and cried out in pleasure her body couldn't deny as
she writhed beneath her assailant in ecstasy she didn't ask for, and found the
pleasure to be more scarring than the pain. Tears rolling down her cheeks all
the while.
Valentine continued to lap at his daughter's cunt milking her orgasm for all
it's worth as she screamed in pleasure as Jocelyn used to when he made love to
her. The last time he'd had her as she lay unresponsive beneath him was far too
reminiscint of the last few months they shared together, after his betrayal but
before her own. She never screamed for him again after Jonathan.
When he had her lifeless body here he had tried taking her to see if her body
even still desired him. Instead his stomach turned through the necrophilia as
her realized the woman he once loved and who loved him back was gone from this
body. He still talked to her, but he never touched her again.
Looking down at his daughter's body splayed out and spread beneath him her
recent pleasure told in the delicate flush to her skin glowing beneath a sheen
of sweat that coated her body. Her chest heaved up and down with her frequent
breaths and choked sobs the motion of her breasts hypnotic to him as he
straddled her hips.
From this position Valentine continued to survey Clary's body in the afterglow
of her orgasm. Her lack of the rigours training shadowhunters received from
birth left her body soft and pliant beneath the hands he returned to her body.
He started them in her hair laid out around her head as if it were a crown of
heavenly fire, more golden than her mother's auburn locks but all the more
beautiful for it.
She turned her face away from him eyes shut tightly against the sensations
still rolling through her body though she's managed to quiet herself by biting
down on her own lip. Valentine placed a hand upon her cheek to turn her head to
face him though her eyes remained closed tears still escaped through the
tightly shut lids. Valentine's other hand came up to wipe the tears from her
cheeks.
Resolving to get her to open her eyes he ran his finger with the moisture of
her tear down the column of her neck. He felt her swallow hard against the
gentle sensation of his father like touch. 'He had no right to feign
gentleness' she thought as his finger continued along her biddy.
He paused at her heaving breasts and circled her left nipple with his finger
the motion and moisture causing the sensitive flesh there to stiffen and peak.
He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth as his hand remained to tease
and grope the soft flesh beneath them, all the while his eyes were trained on
her face.
He bit down on the hardened flesh and she released a groan as her teeth bit
into her own lip drawing blood in an attempt to keep quiet. A rivulet of blood
dripped from the split in her lip and noticing this Valentine worked his mouth
up her body from her breast enjoying the salty taste ofher skin on his tongue.
He paused to bite and suckle at her neck easily leaving marks of his affection
all over the pale flesh before continuing on up her chin following the trail of
blood to her lips that had been his goal.
He placed his mouth upon hers and just held it there his eyes wide open hers
tightly shut. The hand that had been on her breast trailed down her side to the
open wound on her thigh. His thumb reached out to delicately brush over the
wound as his tongue reached out of his mouth to draw at the split in her lip
and pull her lower lip from between her clenched teeth forcing her mouth open.
His thumb pressed into the wound on her thigh in warning before he invaded her
mouth with his tongue once more.
Clary didn't know what she was trying harder to ignore her father's insistent
tongue shoving itself down her throat as she pulled shallow breaths in through
her nose or his hard insistent dick that lay between her thighs not quite
touching her dripping cunt but the way Valentine lay atop her caused it to rub
against the sensitive flesh there every once in a while as he bobbed his head
to get his tongue further into her mouth, the action reminiscint of his earlier
treatment of the lips lower on her body.
Valentine feeling she's had enough time to recover from her orgasm and no
longer content with her current state of non reaction moved his hand on her
thigh higher to the curve of her ass his fingers played with the sensitive
strip of skin beneath the supple mass of flesh pulling a surprised moan from
her which vibrated against his tongue.
"Kiss me back." Clary tried to shake her head in refusal but his hand that had
been content to weave itself through her hair tightened it's grip on her head
as his other hand drove his fingernails into the flesh her ass surely leaving
more marks on her body.
She hesitantly lifted her chin and moved her lips against his own. Disgust and
shame rising in her as she continued to keep her eyes closed much to
Valentine's dismay.
With his small victory of his daughter's responsive lips against his own
Valentine moved the hand that had been holding her mouth to his own down the
woefully ignored right half of her body. An oversight he'll have to remedy
another time his hardened cock reminded him as it felt the heat radiating from
his daughters sopping cunt.
With both hands on her hips, thumbs grazing her pelvic bones, he lifted her
core to his own and ground his shaft into her cunt letting out a groan at how
right it felt.
Removing one hand from her hips he ran two fingers along her slit and was
disappointed to find that soaked as though she was, she wasn't wet enough to
lose her virginity to his rather sizeable cock, not without removing all
pleasure from the experience. He reached past her to the bedside table again to
retrieve the lubrication oil he had hoped he wouldn't have to use.
Placing her hips back down on the bed her removed his touch from her body as he
kneeled between her legs to admire his handy work.
The angel splayed out before him could be nothing less than a gift from heaven
itself he thought as she turned her face in confusion at the sudden absence of
his body. The golden red curls on her head and between her legs darkened with
sweat and her skin was flushed a healthy pink beneath the gold dusted freckles
trailing along leading to all of his favorite places on her body.
Her kiss bruised lips, swollen from the rough treatment both had been giving
the soft rose petals all night.
Her breasts, nipples peaked and hardened with her unwilling arousal, the marks
of his lips dark against the skin scattered but numerous.
Her cunt, glistening with her arousal, her clit red, swollen, and exposed to
the open air. He focused on this as he opened the bottle of oil and poured some
out into his palm before taking the pulsing shaft between his own legs into
hand stroking it to the sight of the fallen angel before him just has her eyes
shot open revealing flaming emerald orbs.
At the absence of sensation Clary couldn't help but open her eyes in the hope
that Valentine decided against going through with his depraved desires only to
be confronted with the sight of the naked man kneeled between her thighs with
his cock in his hand and his eyes now fixed to her own.
Up until now she had been resolutely ignoring his body, imagining a faceless
stranger above her, but when confronted with the sight she couldn't help but be
awed at the physical specimen presented to her. All shadowhunters are
beautiful, some more than others, as a testament to the angel's blood that runs
through our veins. Valentine looked as if he had been sculpted in the image of
the Angel Raziel himself.
Clary had never seen a penis in person before until now but she couldn't
imagine his size was average. She tried to close her legs in fear of being torn
apart by her father's cock but Valentine's presence between her legs prevented
this.
"Please don't do this." The soft words echoed in the other wise silent room
Clary only half aware of even having spoken them turned her head away again as
a tear slid down her cheek.
Valentine reached his hand up and brushed the tear away with his thumb then
held her face with one hand as the other guided his cock to her waiting
entrance.
"You don't understand now Clarissa but you will soon. This is what you were
made for. Now keep your eyes on mine and I promise the hard part will be over
soon." Clary looked into the black orbs looming above her and saw her own
helpless fave staring back at her. The shame that arose in her at her weakness
held her eyes to her reflection in Valentine's own as he pushed the tip of his
dick inside her then placed both his hands on her hips to pull her body onto
his.
He held her lower half in the air by her hips as he pushed shallow thrusts into
her body trying not to shatter the fragile connection in their locked gaze as
he positioned himself to take her virginity.
When he felt her barrier he couldn't help his feeling of smug satisfaction as
he was poised to deflower the angel beneath him.
With both hands on her hips he thrust the full length of his dick inside of her
with as much force as he could command and as her hymn broke something inside
her eyes did as well. Clary opened her mouth in a silent scream at his invasion
hands griping the rope that bound her to the bed and get thighs squeezing
Valentine's hips as her whole body clenched in reaction.
"Beautiful." Valentine said as he broke their tentative eye contact to look
down at where their bodies were now joined in the most intimate way possible.
Both their thighs taut with the effort of holding still, he on the part of
trying to keep his body being dislodged from hers, her on the part of trying to
dislodge him from her body.
"No more please, it hurts." Clary whimpered in pain as her body clenched
further around her father's cock. Valentine pried her legs apart before pulling
out till just the tip of his body was inside her's before thrusting back in at
an angle that put pressure on her clit causing her to cry out at the brief
flash of pleasure.
"Don't worry Clarissa just relax and it will pass." Valentine held himself
still inside her and watched as her features adjusted to the sensation.
He repeated the action again this time grinding his pelvis into her clit before
pausing once more. When he didn't see her face contort in pain he did it again.
Groaning he buried his face in her neck as he began to pound his throbbing dick
into her pussy.
Clary groaned quietly from behind clenched teeth, her face flashed in shame, as
her father violated her over and over in wild abandon his cock gliding in and
out of her cunt with practiced ease.
She closed her eyes again and tried to forget.
Tried to forget where she was.
Tried to forget who she was with.
Tried to forget what was happening to her body.
Tried to remember a reason to keep fighting.
All the while Valentine continued to mercilessly take her body as the fight
slowly drained out of her.
Sensing her withdrawal Valentine lifted her lower half with a vice grip on her
hips and locked her knees in place so that he body was arched up to meet his
and her breasts bounced in time with his thrusts.
Running his right hand along her body he took the neglected mass of flesh in
his hand and proceeded to trace her areola with his thumb tool her nipple came
to a stiff peak.
"Ghaaa!" Clary cried out as her father harshly pinched the sensitive skin
between his thumb and forefinger. She clenched her eyes together harder not
wanting to see what he was doing to her.
Valentine looked down at the Angel spread bare before him fiery gold and bound
to this mortal world for himself alone. How could anything he has done have
been wrong when Heavan sees fit to reward him with one of their own bound in
the mortal flesh of his one true love. He picked up the speed of his thrusting
with an increased desire to claim the flushed creature beneath him.
Clary whined as the pace of his assault increased not knowing what it meant for
her exactly but assuming it wasn't anything good all the whole keeping her eyes
closed.
Valentine took her close eyes almost as a challenge he groped at every
sensitive bit of flesh on her body pulling everything from the quietest whimper
to the most passionate screams from her mouth but the fiery emeralds remained
closed to him.
He tried to use pain clawing at her skin and gouging his thumb into the all but
forgotten knife wound on her thigh , but still her eyes remained closed.
Valentine was not as young as he once was and despite the stamina runes burning
on his body he couldn't keep up his ravenous assault much longer. He replaced
his hands on her hips and finished himself off with a series of harsh elongated
thrusts.
Balls deep in his daughter he finally let go with a roar his cum hot and thick
painting Clary's insides white.
He collapsed atop her when his orgasm finished lapping and sucking at her lips
trying to get them open.
"You belong to me, now and forever."
Tears escaped from beneath her eyelids at his words, knowing the truth of them
but still unable to face the reality of her situation.
After what seemed like an eternity Valentine removed his now flaccid member
from her person. Though she was glad to be free of him she wasn't prepared for
the empty feeling that spread through her body from where they had been joined.
She kept her eyes closed as she heard him redress and gather his things.
She kept her eyes closed when he cut the ropes binding her wrists.
She kept her eyes closed as he left the room locking her inside.
She kept her eyes closed until she passed out from exhaustion and hoped to wake
up and find it was all just a terrible dream.
Chapter End Notes
     More plot than I had intended but like I always tell my boyfriend
     there has to be some buildup you can't just dive right in with the
     whips and ball gags. I hope you enjoyed it I'll post more if desired.
     The party bus to hell leaves at noon sharp be there or be square.
***** Choices *****
Chapter Summary
     Jonathan gets nervous and does something reckless.
Chapter Notes
     So wow did not expect the response I got, thank you all for the kudos
     and reviews they legitimately got me through the end of the semester.
     I took the comments I received into consideration (more Jon I get it)
     and now I think I have a solid direction where this story is
     going...so here...I'll talk more at the end.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jonathan was not feeling like himself.
That is to say Jonathan was feeling.
He hated the thought of his sister alone and defenseless with their
pathological father. Hatred was a very familiar emotion to him, the ball of
restless energy in the pit of his stomach that kept tugging him back in the
direction of his sister was not familiar.
Jonathan was anxious, hed never cared enough about anything in his life to ever
feel this before and it was unsettling though at the same time not unpleasant.
He was worried about the looks he saw in his father's eyes, looks that didn't
speak of his prefered methods of torture.
He needed to get back to his sister now and he couldn't wait till nightfall.
"Time to do a little climbing." Jonathan remarked to himself as he made his way
to the far side of the demon towers.
---------------------
Max was pretty sure people weren't supposed to climb the towers, or at least
that's what he thought when he looked out the window and saw someone doing it.
'The adults aren't home, maybe Alec will know what to do.' He thought to
himself as he ran downstairs to find his siblings.
-------------------------
Pain.
That's all Clary felt as she woke for the second time in this unfamiliar
environment. It shot through her body as she sat up against the headboard not
yet opening her eyes wishing to deny the reality of her situation for just a
bit longer.
She pulled her hand towards her face and was pleased to find that her hands
were no longer bound to the bed. She tried to pull her legs in only to find
that they were actually still restrained.
Clary opened her eyes training them specifically on her ankles. There were red
rings around the skin beneath the ropes caked over with scabs and dried blood
she reached her hands down to untie herself and paused when she saw her wrists
in a similar state.
Pulling the rope away from the open wounds hurt more than leaving it but Clary
needed to survey her prison if she wanted to escape.
After untying herself she made her way to the edge of the bed and placed her
feet on the floor. Clary stood on shaking legs clutching the bedpost for
stability, she looked down to see the shredded remains of her clothing and
tried her best not to start crying again.
Looking up from the floor she did a brief scan of the room aside from the bed
there was a dresser and wardrobe in one corner as well as a desk in another
with two doors on the walls. Clary went to the door directly in front of the
bed and found it locked, when she tried the one to the right of the bed it
opened to reveal a bathroom.
Bathroom may have been an exaggeration, it was a room with a toilet, a sink,
and a claw footed tub with a shower head stand. She closed the door behind her
and walked into the room none the less and turned on the faucet for the shower.
She sat down in the tub beneath the spray, not taking the time to wait for the
water to heat up. There was a loofah and bar of soap on a rack attached to the
shower head.
She grabbed both and methodically worked up a lather in her hands before
looking down at her body.
The fluids from last night were in various states of drying in streaks down her
thighs.
Clary couldn't stand the idea of being touched there ever again but she
scrubbed every inch of her body raw as the memories of Valentine's hands on her
body from last night played over like some gruesome motion picture in her head.
She paid extra attention her inner thighs creating friction burns on the
already irritated flesh in her vigor.
She scrubbed her body until the water went cold and she was left red and raw,
crying on the floor of the tub.
When she finally managed to pull herself up she noticed a mirror on the back of
the door.
Walking over to it was almost like looking at someone else for Clary, the steam
still misting the edges from her shower added a dream like quality to the image
before her.
In the image a short girl with wild red hair looked back at her. She was naked.
Clary had almost forgotten that bit.
There were bruises all over her body, purple blue splotches on her red flushed
skin, some made by his fingers some by his mouth.
All the scratches and cuts on her body began to slowly bleed again.
Clary felt like she'd been hit by a car, her body ached so much, but when she
looked up at her face aside from the bags beneath her eyes she didn't look
different.
She felt damaged, and dirty, and untouchable.
She felt changed, but for the most part she looked exactly the same as before
if not a little worse for wear.
She heard a key flip in the lock in the main room.
"Clarissa?" Valentine called her from the bedroom. The noise startled her back
and she bumped into the sink. The commotion bringing her father into the
bathroom.
"There you are daughter, how are you feeling this morning." Valentine kept his
eyes trained on hers during the exchange but his mind wandered back to last
night after he'd had her.
The bruises on her skin mapping out every place he'd touched her, held her, and
kissed her.
Her legs still spread open revealing his seed overflowing from inside her.
Her tousled red hair spread beneath her like a crown of flames.
His salvation and saving grace, soon he will have the Clave on their knees, and
then he will make the nephilim stronger than Raziel could have ever imagined.
Clary brought her arms up to cover he chest as Valentine continued to block the
doorway.
"What do you want." Her tone was cool and firm, brokering no argument and not
even really a question.
"Now Clarissa is that any way to speak to your father?" Clary sneered at him
almost laughing before she responded.
"Now Valentine is this any way to treat your daughter?" Both looked at each
other sizing up their opponent before continuing.
"You're right, I suppose. You aren't any more my daughter than Jonathan is
Jocelyn's son."
"While we're on that topic, why does Jace think he's your son?" Clary didn't
have any time to process this information last night but now she's free to ask
questions to someone who'll know the answer.
"Because I raised him like he was. Jace is an orphan I'm the only parent he's
ever known he knows me better than almost anyone else in this world, as I know
him, and he knows I wasn't lying when I said I loved him."
"And where is your actual son in this equation? Why didn't you raise them
together?" Clary was genuinely curious as to why Valentine went through all the
trouble of building two separate lives to keep the two Jonathans apart.
"My son died before he was born, and a demon walks around with his face
everyday to remind me of what I did. He is my only mistake and my worst regret,
if I could go back I would, but I can't so now I must atone for my sin and care
for the monster I created. I couldn't keep him in the same house as something
so pure." Valentine looked away from her and down at his own hands towards the
end of his response and Clary didn't know what was more disturbing, the fact
that he seemed genuinely remorseful, the fact that he actually thought this
about his son, or the fact that she was still completely naked.
"You keep saying things like demon but I thought nephilim blood was always
dominant, how is he any different from Jace and I if we were all your
experiments, what did you do to him?" Valentine looked back up at her and
smiled.
"So you have been paying attention. Demon blood Clarissa. That is what is
different about your brother. While your mother was pregnant with him I gave
her small quantities of powdered demon blood to try and enhance the child's
strength in the same fashion of the night and moon's children. It is not fair
that we are the warriors blessed by the heavens to protect this world yet we
are little more than humans with fancy tattoos."
"So you tried to make a demon shadowhunter hybrid? With your own son?!?!?!"
Clary was horrified at her father's revelation, she couldn't believe anyone
could do that to a child period, let alone their own first born.
"He wasn't the first or the only he was just the first to survive, that's why
it has to be you, my blood, Morgenstern blood is the key."
"So he's good enough to be your cannon fodder but not good enough to be
considered human."
"Jonathan wouldn't understand even if I tried." Valentine's deadpan reply was
as emotionless as his face as if he were talking about an object and not a
person much less his first born child. Clary felt a stab of pity for her
brother having grown up like that, then she remembered how she got in this
situation and her pity shriveled up and died.
"So Jonathan was the soldier and Jace was the son."
"Not entirely, I raised them exactly the same they just made different
choices."
"Did you even give Jonathan a choice, you say he wouldn't have understood even
if you tried. Which means you didn't try you just never loved him. How can one
be expected to understand something they've never experienced?"
"You're a clever one aren't you? In that same vein however, how do you know he
would have if I had? You don't know your brother Clarissa." Valentine had
returned his usually demeanor of superiority and condescension to his face and
both of them were done with the conversation, but still Clary had to have the
last word.
"I may not know him but that wasn't my choice, and I'll bet you don't know him
as well as you think you do but that was your choice."
"As pleasant as this conversation is I do have other things to do with my day.
I only came to check-in on you, and make sure you were getting settled in."
Valentine shifted the conversation as effortlessly as exhaling and it took
Clary a second to catch up.
"I have no intention of settling in, I won't be here much longer I promise."
Valentine chuckled as if he knew something she didn't.
"I suppose you are right about that, we'll most likely be moving to Morgenstern
Manor after the Clave surrenders to me tonight."
"You're delusional if you think you are going to win this that easily."
"Betraying my brothers in arms isn't easy for me Clarissa even if it is for
their own good. Make no mistake I will emerge from this battle victorious and
usher in a new era of greatness for the shadowhunter race."
"Thanks for the tragic back story, I'll make sure to tell the Clave you at
least felt bad about slaughtering countless innocents."
"Sarcasm, Jonathan used to use that a lot then I beat it out of him."
"Which one?"
"Does it matter?" Valentine turned and walked back into the room and Clary
followed with her arms still locked over her chest. He approached the wardrobe
and opened it for her to see. "There are plenty of clothes here for you to get
dressed if you like. I meant it when I said you should make yourself at home."
Clary followed him out into the room and stood on the opposite side of the bed
as he spoke. "You are not my father, and this is not my home. I will say this
for the last time someone will be here to save me soon and they will end you."
Clary was pleased at the idea of no longer being naked but couldn't bear to
accept anything from him.
For the first time in the entire interaction Valentine was openly staring at
Clary's nude form in appreciation before he said. "I thought I made it very
clear last night that I have no interest in being your father." As Valentine
said this Clary held her arms closer to her chest and prayed that the bed was
tall enough to cover the rest.
Valentine crossed the room again to stand in front of her and Clary raised her
chin so as to not appear intimidated instead she just felt like a child, small
and insignificant, but she didn't let it bleed into her voice as she told him
in no uncertain terms,"And I thought I made it very clear last night that I
have no interest in your interests."
Valentine raised his hand to run his fingers through her hair before
responding, "Does it matter?" he wound a lock around his finger and reached
into his back pocket with his free hand and pulling out a stele before
continuing, "I came to see if you were in need of an iratze, and as much as I
enjoy you Clarissa I have an empire to build." He pressed the stele into her
shoulder before she could respond using her hair to hold her in place.
Valentine finished the mark in a series of quick easy strokes. "If you're done
with that I would like to get back to plotting my escape, if you don't mind."
Clary said.
"I'm afraid I might mind." Jonathan said from the doorway he stepped in before
continuing, "I just got you here, I want to take the time to get to know my
baby sister better." Up until now Jonathan had been watching from the doorway
infuriated with the proprietary way his father was leering at Clary.
"Jonathan what are you doing here I told you to wait until nightfall?"
Valentine turned to his son as he entered the room. He was less confused by his
arrival and more annoyed that he couldn't follow such simple orders.
"I'm sorry, being on Sebastian's very best behavior was exhausting, and without
my sister to keep me...occupied I was getting a bit restless. I figured me
killing everyone around me would have drawn more attention than climbing the
tower." Jonathan shrugged dismissively as if he didn't just threaten the lives
of all her friends.
"Just follow my orders next time, you know how to keep your activities
discrete." Valentine turned back to Clary and watched the marks disappear from
her body before stepping back to observe both of his children at once. "With
the wards already down I'm afraid I'm going to have to move things along more
swiftly than intended. Jonathan do you think you can manage to keep an eye on
your sister while I begin the preparations."
"Of course Father, I apologize for the inconvenience." With that Valentine made
his departure leaving the two siblings alone. Jonathan waited until he heard
the front door close before saying to his sister, "I'll wait outside while you
get dressed.", then exited the room and closed the door behind himself.
Chapter End Notes
     In related news yeah it's been two weeks but college and finals then
     holidays, things have finally calmed down enough for me to get some
     quality keyboard time and from now on I will try to update once every
     two weeks at least but I make no promises. This is the first time
     I've ever shared any of my writing and I'll get a little skittish
     here and there, but I know the pain of abandoned stories believe me
     (There's a pride and prejudice fic that I've been following for about
     3.5 years now that the author will routinely abandon but I still
     check daily for updates even though there hasn't been one since June
     2015). I have no intention of doing that to anyone so the one thing I
     can guarantee is that I will finish this. Again thank you so much I
     love you all :)
***** Trust *****
Chapter Summary
     Jonathan draws a line in the sand
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the delay, I had half a chapter written but everything was
     entirely too cheerful and positive so I shredded it and went to the
     dark side (grabbed some dark chocolate and put on some Florence and
     the Machine)
     I hope this is up to your standards and worth the wait ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Clary sat on the bed in her new clothes wondering how long he would wait
outside. To the best of her knowledge it had been almost half an hour.
Jonathan sat on the other side of the door playing with the key to the unlocked
door, it had been half an hour since she stopped moving but her heart was
racing.
She could hear his heartbeat, even and steady, through the door. It was the
only sound for miles aside from her own.
He was waiting to be invited in.
She knew it.
He couldn't bring himself to ask.
She couldn't bring herself to offer.
They sat in silence until Clary got up and walked over to the door. "It isn't
locked."
"I know." Jonathan stood as he responded, he leaned forward against the door
imagining his sister on the other side. Her heartbeat had steadied and he could
tell she was more confused than frightened.
"Then why are you out there?" Clary stood on the other side of the door with
her hand on the knob debating whether or not to open the door.
"Because you don't trust me." He could very easily break down the door and
force himself upon her but even the idea of hurting her like that revolted him.
He needed her to love him and she never would if she couldn't even trust him.
"Why should I?" Clary was genuinely perplexed as to what Jonathan's motivation
could possibly be at this moment, he seemed too sincere for all that Valentine
ranted about his demonic affinity. "You're the one who brought me here." Clary
said this more to remind herself as to why she shouldn't trust him.
"You shouldn't, I wouldn't...but I'm all you have right now." Clary opened the
door a crack.
"My friends will come for me."
"Can I keep you company until then, I do want to know you Clary, please let me
in." Clary opened the door the rest of the way and stepped back into the room.
Jonathan closed the door behind him then followed her.
"What did he do to you?" Jonathan reached for her arm and was disappointed when
she pulled away. The action along with his observations was enough of an answer
in itself but he needed to hear her say it.
"Nothing that concerns you dear brother." Clary snapped back at Jonathan before
folding further in on herself. "Why should you care?" She turned away and sat
down on the bed, in part so he wouldn't see how shaken she was by his question,
and in part because of how shaken she was.
"Because you're my little sister, and no one is allowed to hurt you." 'Except
for me.' Jonathan added to himself before continuing, "How hard is it to
believe that I care about you, or that at the very least I want to, you're the
only family I have left."
"You have mom" Clary looked up as she said this and watched as Jonathan
followed her over to where she sat on the bed but kept his distance. He kneeled
perfectly in her line of vision, he treated her as an animal that would either
turn and run or lash out in the worst of ways if frightened.
"Jocelyn hasn't been my mother since the day I was born." Jonathan paused
unsure as to whether or not he should continue, "I was a newborn baby, just
minutes old, and she screamed when I opened my eyes. She screamed and cried and
refused to even touch me, the abomination that killed her son."
"That's not true, who told you this?" Clary couldn't believe her mother capable
of such cruelty to anyone let alone her own child.
"Valentine, who else could have. Not that it matters I don't care anymore."
Jonathan delivered his line so straight faced that he almost believed his own
lie.
"Valentine lied my mother would never do that."
"Clary I'm afraid the Jocelyn you know and the one who married Valentine are
two completely different people. Besides Valentine doesn't tell lies,
especially not when the truth is so much more damning."
"Why haven't you left him? You're strong, and smart, and resourceful you don't
have to take his abuse anymore. Why haven't you runaway."
Jonathan didn't know how to answer this question. He knew the actual reason
'Because of you Clarissa. I endured years of torture so that one day I could
meet you, save you, and get you to fall in love with me.' He knew that's what
he wanted to say and he knew that was the truth, however instead he said,
"Because it's the only life I've ever known." Another half-truth but it's for a
good reason, he'll tell her everything when she's safe and they have time.
"The unknown isn't always so bad."
"One can hope."
"Are you going to let me out?" The plea obvious in Clary's voice…
"No." Jonathan tried to think of a way to word his next sentence without losing
the fragile string of trust that formed between them over the course of their
conversation. "I can't protect you out there, I wasn't lying when I said you're
all I have left. I can't let anything happen to you."
"You want to protect me yet you left me with that psychopath yesterday.
Jonathan please, anything that could happen to me out there is nowhere near as
bad as what Valentine did to me last night." She couldn't say the word but she
needed him to understand, "I'd rather die than live through that again."
"I'm sorry. I never should have left you alone with him..." Clary wondered if
Jonathan actually meant what he said, and for the first time in his life he
actually meant the apology, just not for any socially accepted reason. Jonathan
reached up to grab his soared hand carefully before continuing. "Valentine's
plan is unstoppable he's going to win, and I can't let you get hurt trying to
stop him. But when all of this is over we'll make him pay for hurting you, and
then I'll take you far away from this place where no one can hurt either of us
ever again."
Clary gripped both of her hands around the one he placed in hers, she believed
him though she still didn't trust him, not that it mattered right now her
brother was all she had and she needed to cry. So she did. Clary held her
brother's hand and gave in to the tears.
Though Jonathan was beyond infuriated with his father for taking Clary's
virginity, he couldn't bring himself to dismiss the clear benefits it had on
his plans that he wasn't the one to do it. The act broke her so nicely that
she's willing to take any scrap of kindness, and he currently has her in the
palm of his hand.
He waited for her to tire herself out and fall asleep, when she did he removed
the stele from his belt and drew the knockout rune on her arm just to make sure
she stayed put he couldn't risk her getting out and finding Angel boy, but he
also couldn't tie her up workout losing the small bit of progress he's made.
Jonathan exited the room locking it with a rune for good measure, he was
uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her so helpless, but he has a part to
play as the dutiful son and he can't let himself get distracted by sentiment.
He walked outside to where he had tied up the dead boy’s horse and mounted the
creature before setting off down the valley to the cave where his father was
waiting.
-----------------------------------
Valentine was going over the binding runes for the summoning ritual he couldn't
afford to mess up a single line or it would surely mean his death. Despite
Jonathan disabling the wards early everything seemed to be going according to
plan the Clave will fall by sundown and this world will be his.
When Jonathan strolled into the cave as if he hasn't a care in the world
Valentine was too engrossed in his current task to pay him any mind so Jonathan
took it upon himself to observe his surroundings, more specifically the
leather-bound journal at his father's side with his sister's name on the cover.
Jonathan knew about his father's little black books that he used to log his
children's progress, he just hadn't realized that Clarissa would have one.
Jonathan made a note to check the book later when his father decided to
acknowledge his existence.
"I thought I told you to keep an eye on your sister." Valentine said bruskly.
"I can assure you she's safely out of the way. I couldn't very well miss out on
our moment of triumph just to babysit, that just doesn't seem fair." Jonathan
new he was playing towards his father's ego but he didn't particularly care at
the moment he just wanted his father gone so he could find out his plans for
Clarissa.
"Of course not son, you've been by my side for years it's only right that you
be here with me now. I however need you hear to release the army at midnight
while I summon the angel."
Jonathan knew when he was being lied to, but over the years he stopped caring.
Right now, particularly his father's absentee style patenting was playing to
his advantage. "Anything you need father."
"Very well then, I'll be taking the mortal sword with me but the Morgenstern
sword has a sufficient demonic alliance to complete your task." With that said
Valentine gathered his papers and left for the lake unknowingly leaving his two
sons alone for the first time ever.
Jonathan in no particular rush walked over to where his father had been
standing and picked up Clarissa's log book. Jonathan idly studied the book in
his hands before opening it to the first page.
“Jocelyn becomes more withdrawn from the world every day, I fear I may have
lost her for good. I recall from my earlier experiments the euphoric effects
the Angel blood had on one’s disposition, and I’ve decided to use it to attempt
to get my wife back from this depression she’s fallen into…” Jonathan couldn’t
understand why a journal supposedly about his sister began with his mother, he
skipped a few pages ahead to see if there was any mention of Clarissa. “Jocelyn
grows stronger and more vibrant by the day, she has even begun to take an
interest in Jonathan as a mother should, I still sense some apprehension
towards myself but I will keep up with the trial and continue to make
observations.”
“Jocelyn is pregnant, she hasn’t told me yet but the signs are all there, I
wonder if I should stop giving her the angel blood supplements.”
“I decided to continue with the supplements, in addition to Jocelyn’s improved
disposition Jonathan seems to be happier and more productive with the increased
affection. Also, I don’t know how Herondale’s tainted blood may affect that
trial, this child can act as a control and a balance for Jonathan in his
training.”
“Jocelyn seems to be developing increased control over the runes of the grey
book, this may give me a hint as to what to expect from this second child.”
“Jocelyn left…”
“I will find them both.”
“I have a daughter. Jocelyn seems to have decided to name her Clarissa, an
insult to her heritage. She’s somewhere in New York there’s powerful anti-
tracking magic surrounding her but the same guards do not restrict Clarissa’s
mind. Though she is consciously unaware of the shadow world, that much is very
clear, she seems to be drawn to areas with large amounts of supernatural
activity. I have two of my men following her by this time next week I shall
have my family by my side.”
“Clarissa is stronger than I ever could have hoped, she reads Enochian as if it
were her native language, and her command of the runes is comparable to that of
the angels themselves it’s simply remarkable. I’m astonished with how quickly
she’s progressing, just last week she had no idea what she really was but she’s
managed to conquer most tasks set to her. If I’d had the chance to train her
myself, she would have been perfect…”
“I’ve begun to ponder what may have been the catalyst for Clarissa’s increased
ability as that she and Jace share very few commonalities in their angelic
skill set. Jace’s strengths seem to be all physical and blunt, whereas
Clarissa’s are more precise and focus more in thought, maybe it’s their
upbringing and her lack of training. I need more time with her, she’s not like
the others and I must know why.”
“Clarissa looked like an angel when she held the mortal sword, if only for the
moment. It’s partial demonic alliance all but burned her skin where she touched
it her reaction was infinitely more severe than Jace’s though she received less
of Ithuriel’s blood. There are so many things about her that I can’t explain,
she seems to be a gift from the gods at times if only she would understand
she’s on the wrong side right now. Jocelyn twisted her mind and kept her away
from me for entirely too long, Clarissa needs to understand she belongs to me.”
“She created a portal. Her power doesn’t seem to have a limit, the forsaken I
sent to retrieve her failed but I couldn’t be more pleased with the outcome.
Soon she will be back where she belongs at my side but for now I have Jonathan
observing her. His interest in his sister is puzzling at times but nothing I
can’t manage.”
“It was remarkable seeing her in a controlled environment for the first time. I
didn’t quite understand what she was until I had her before me, she’s
mesmerizing, my little Angel. She's everything I could have hoped for either of
the others, she just lacks training. She's the key to the next stage in
Nephilim evolution.”
The entries stopped there, not that any of it was new information to Jonathan.
He didn't quite understand the level of obsession his father had over Clarissa
until now and that knowledge only confirmed what he was already thinking.
He needed to get her out now.
How he was going to go about doing it he still didn't know, but their father
would learn the hard way Clarissa belongs with no one aside from him. As
Jonathan completed his thought he picked up the Morgenstern sword and unleashed
hell.
------------------------------
Jace remembers once telling Clary that he'd never seen an angel. In this
current moment he was glad for that and wished that it were still true.
Valentine appeared before the Clave in the center of the guard with the angel
at his back and a demon horde on the horizon.
His speech was brief
His words were simple.
"Surrender or be forsaken."
For the rest of his life Jace will remember the sound of the first sword
falling to the ground. The shadowhunters are a dying breed and in the face of
their creator they bowed down to a mad man.
Valentine won.
Chapter End Notes
     Author's Note: Just another apology for the delay. Thank you all for
     the continued support and this time I'm not going to make promises I
     can't keep.
***** Broken *****
Chapter Summary
     Valentine and Jonathan fight for the real prize.
Chapter Notes
     Hey Hey so I just thought that I'd make a note since I've been
     getting a few comments in Valentine's favour... HE'S THE BAD GUY!!! I
     have no sympathy for this particular devil. I understand your desire
     for an expansion into his character and while I can assure you he
     will get a bit more page time, he's a brilliant strategist I can't
     just say "...and he died" (like the battle, or lack there of. I'm
     horrible at writing action scenes not enough dialogue it always turns
     out like a bad attempt at copying the princess bride, so in this case
     I didn't try) Keeping that in mind he'll be around as long as
     necessary for Jonathan to plan his death and not a sentence longer.
     While he's still here though it brings us to current matters at hand,
     if you haven't already, please take a look at the tags and warnings
     for the work this chapter contains graphic scenes of rape if you're
     not comfortable with this GTFO.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Valentine remarked on his success in his ancestral home the night of his
triumph.
The transition of power was to happen tomorrow morning after he summoned the
angel everything went according to plan the Clave bent the knee and Valentine
is now in total control of everything...except for his children.
Clarissa was locked in her room as before, though after being knocked out and
waking up in a strange place again she's decided to throw everything that isn't
nailed down at the door.
Jace had been very vocal and insisted he be taken to the dungeons with the
Lightwoods but was now locked in his room.
Jonathan was insistent upon his need to stay with his sister going so far as
refusing a direct order so he could sit outside her door like some love drunk
fool...
Valentine did not know how to handle teenagers. Valentine did not want to know
how to handle teenagers. What worked for Jonathan never worked for Jace when
they were growing up, and what used to work for Jonathan isn't working now.
Valentine was severely out of his depth at the moment, but he needed to get his
children in line by morning.
He sat in his study contemplating various avenues to pursue when he heard the
sounds of smashing finally stop. 'Maybe she's finally tired herself out...'
Valentine thought as he got up from his desk to investigate this change in
circumstances. He turned the corner to the hallway that now housed all three of
his children Jace's door was still firmly shut, but Jonathan was nowhere to be
seen.
It didn't strike im as abnormal Jonathan has been known to grow bored with
things easily and disappear for long stretches of time. Valentine decided to
leave his sons to their own devices for the evening and check on his most
promising progeny. He placed his key in the lock of Clary's door and opened it.
He immediately proceeded to drop to his knees in a roll as a hairbrush flew
over his head and imbedded itself into the wall exactly where his head had been
moments ago...
"Oops" Clarissa to her credit wanted nothing more than to launch herself at
Valentine, claw his heart out, then run for her life. However she knew he was
twice her size and had a lifetime of experience to back it up, so she waited.
"Your aim could use some work. That could have been the most unfortunate
accident." Valentine said smugly as he rose to his feet. Though honestly he'd
been too close to serious injury for his own comfort, if his reflexes had been
half a second slower he'd have lost an eye at best. He closed and locked the
door behind him, and placed a silencing rune on it for good measure before
moving further into the room.
Clary scoffed at the statement. "Unfortunate for you maybe," she said, "and I
don't think accident is the word I'd use."
"Sooner or later Clarissa you're going to have to accept your new life at my
side." Valentine steeped towards her and ran his hand along her upper arm.
"How about never." Clary jerked back in disgust, trying to put distance between
herself and Valentine. He followed her retreat until she was backed up against
a wall.
"How about now" Valentine's hand returned to the exposed skin of her arm and
Clary's breathing picked up. Valentine could see the fear in her eyes and her
flushed complexion was turning him on.
He was going to rape her again.
They both knew it.
"No" Clary's voice came out as a whisper you could barely hear it over the
deafening silence of the room. She wanted to scream, and beg, and run away
anything to avoid what was about to happen.
Anything to avoid feeling that helpless again.
"You are only making this harder on yourself." Valentine bent his head down
down tracing a path up the column of her neck with his mouth before continuing,
"Just give in to me and I'll take you to Heaven sweet Angel.
'More like drag me to hell' Clary couldn't understand Valentine, at the moment
she didn't really want to, she just wanted him to get guys hands off of her. "I
have no intention of going anywhere with you, you disgust me."
"No need to be so rude Clarissa we can either do this like civilized people, or
I can tie you down again and fuck you until you lose your voice from screaming
my name. The choice is yours, though I'd choose soon you may not like what I
decide." Trapped against a wall in a cage made by his body Clary looked much
smaller than she really was He could see her chest shake with her choked sobs.
"Please don't do this to me..." she looked up at the man holding her captive
poised to violate her once again. Tears delicately slid off her eyelashes and
down her cheeks. "Why?" She pleaded in a wavering voice.
Valentine looked down upon the Angel before him and was momentarily stunned by
the innocence of her appearance. He reached up to brush the tears off her
cheeks in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture, and she flinched away from
him. Undeterred he continued the motion and turned her face back to his before
addressing her, "Because sweet angel you were made for me, everything about you
has been carefully constructed to serve a higher purpose that neither of us can
deny. My blood flows through your veins as does that of the angels more so than
any other being living or dead can ever claim. You're one of a kind but your
children will be just as powerful as you, our children will be the strongest
warriors this world has ever seen."
The tears dried in Clary's eyes as she realized how completely insane her
father was and what he meant to do with her. "I will not become this, I will
fight you every second of everyday, and I most certainly have no intention of
having your children. I ask you one last time please let me go, I'll run back
to my family and never bother you again." Clary pleaded with the mad man that
currently had her ensnared hoping for a bit of humanity, she found none, and
Valentine had the audacity to laugh.
He bent forward once more to whisper in her ear "Your mother and friends are
rotting in my dungeon. I'm all you have left." Clary felt faint, as her body
went slack the older man's arms came up around her and he carried her over to
the bed while she remained unresponsive. That changed instantly at the feel of
the mattress against her back and her captor atop her once more. Clary began to
scream and struggle beneath Valentine once again, trying to pull away from him.
He gripped her wrists together and placed them above her head with one hand
easily restraining her, and with the other hand he began to unbuckle his belt.
Valentine flipped her over to control her struggling by sitting on the backs of
her thighs and he began to strip her upper half. He torr the flimsy shit off
her body then slid his hands down the exposed front of her body keeping contact
all the while till he reached he jeans. He wasted no time unbuttoning them and
dragging them down her legs leaving her in her underwear, a delicate emerald
green matching lingerie set from the wardrobe he purchased for her.
Clary screamed into the pillows begging for release as Valentine admired her
body he ran his hands up her back recapturing her wrists with his left and
unhooking her bra with his right.
After removing her bra he dragged her arms down behind her back and used his
right hand to secure her wrists together with his discarded belt.
Once she was secure Valentine sat back to admire his handy work and Clary
scrambled away from him further up the bed until her back hit the headboard.
Valentine leered at her exposed breasts as her panicked breathing caused them
to shake much to his delight. Clary pulled her knees up to her chest trying to
preserve what little modesty she imagined she had but in doing so only treated
her father to an uninhibited view of her glistening cunt.
She was cornered, naked, and out of options. To put it plainly, Clarissa was
entirely at her father's mercy and he didn't even know the meaning of the word.
The tears came unbidden. Sliding down her face one by one until she was
silently sobbing, shamed by her weakness but knowing there's nothing she could
do. All the while her father watched, her his little Angel. Low as she may
appear now however Valentine knew she was far from broken.
He crept forward on the bed till he was kneeling between her legs, he brushed
her tears aside with his thumb once more and whispered in her ear, "Hush now
Clarissa. I have no intention of hurting you tonight. I just need to relax for
me, can you do that Angel?"
Clary gave no verbal response, only visibly tensing and drawing further into
herself. It was no matter to Valentine however as he simply continued on as if
given the keys to the city. He placed his mouth upon hers and ran his tongue
along her lower lip coaxing her mouth open with gentle tugs.
The first time he raped her Clary was fire and resistance hurting herself more
in the process of avoiding him than he was. Now as her father was preparing to
violate her once again she was iced over and tense, she drew further into her
mind distancing herself from the body that betrayed her last time. She didn't
realize her mistake until Valentine grew bored of her unresponsive mouth and
traced his tongue down to the sweet spot on her neck. As he suckled the
sensitive skin a soft moan escaped from her parted lips.
Taking only a moment to reval in his victory he continued on sucking, kissing,
and biting every patch of nerves on her body. The moans he pulled from her
increased in volume peaking when he reached her clit and unceremoniously
pinched it drawing a euphoric scream from the girl beneath him.
Clary couldn't tell what was worse, what her father was doing to her, or the
fact that she was enjoying it. She looked down at Valentine as he settled
between her legs a thin sheen of perspiration on both of them he caught her
eyes before she could look away and ran the flat of his tongue along her slit
keeping eye contact until his actions forced her to look away.
Valentine set in on devouring Clary's pussy, only so satisfied with a few
glancing licks under her heated gaze he placed both hands on her thighs
widening his access before spreading her lower lips open with his right hand
and shoving his tongue inside of her.
Clary gasped at the intrusion her lower muscles fluttering against his tongue
as he lapped at her with no apparent desire to stop.
He skillfully ate her out for ten minutes or so before her was no longer
content with her lack of verbal enthusiasm. Valentine reached one hand up to
play with her breasts and the other down to rub along her slit before plunging
two fingers into her wet heat up to the knuckles. Clary released a deep
satisfied groan before clamping her teeth down on her lip smothering the sound,
though it was too late.
She felt his grin against her cunt as his fingers began to move in time with
his wicked tongue, and that is how they continued. Valentine scissored his
fingers savoring the way her pussy clenched in response as he continued to
explore his prize until he brushed a specific bundle of nerves causing Clary to
jerk up straight against the headboard. Unable to pull away, but unwilling to
give in she sat there tension and ecstasy visible in every hard line and subtle
shake of her body.
Valentine set in with renewed enthusiasm at the bundle of nerves on the roof of
her cunt that produced such a reaction. He furiously pressed in a come hither
motion while sucking on her clit refusing to ease up as he dragged her higher
and higher. The feeling built a desperate ache inside her until she screamed
and orgasmed on her father's face.
The foreign feeling rushed through her body and Valentine never let up on his
attentions once, milking her orgasm for all it's worth then dragging her back
to the edge the second her thighs stopped trembling.
"No. Not again, please." Clary voiced a protest her voice gravely from overuse.
Valentine bit down lightly on her clit, causing the sweetest moan to slip from
her lips as he momentarily relinquished his prize. "Why would I let you go now?
Especially after how much we both clearly enjoyed that. No, instead my sweet
little Angel I'm going to need you to relax because you belong to me now " With
that he dove back into her pussy with renewed fever and Clary was helpless to
resist.
After what felt like hours Clary lay on her back moaning like a wanton whore as
her father laid between her legs lapping at the results of her sixth orgasm of
the night. Tears streaked down her face Clary tried to process her situation,
she hated Valentine for violating her again but she hated herself more for the
way her body responded.
Valentine was far from done as he lazily fingered Clary's pussy. He was in
heaven with his angel beside him and he could only think of one thing that
could make this better. He pulled his fingers out of her drenched cunt with
substantial effort, the tight warm muscles practically moulded to his fingers
sucking the digits deeper inside with every subtle tremor of Clary's body.
Clary was sure she was in Hell as Valentine rolled on top of her. She wished it
hurt. She wished he'd be brutal and cruel in the way he manipulated her body.
She hated that it felt good. Hated that he could just curl his fingers and make
her fall apart beneath him.
Clary felt weak, and dirty, and used, but Valentine still wasn't done with her.
With her hands bound behind her back, and her legs limp and spread from his
earlier attentions he encountered no resistance when he lifted her hips and
placed the top of his cock at her entrance.
He sank into her with shallow thrusts, inch by inch until he was balls deep in
her sopping cunt once more. Clary clenched around the invasion of his massive
cock, trying top hold her body together while she felt like she was being torn
apart.
Valentine had a look of deep intensity as he slowly fucked Clarissa. Drawing
himself out to the tip before grinding his cock back inside of her so she felt
every inch of his throbbing shaft before she was once again impaled upon it. He
wanted to make this last as long as possible, his desires for Clarissa's body
now give far beyond his initial experimental curiosity. Now his victory meant
nothing if he didn't drag this celestial creature down to the depths of his own
depravity and get her to stay willingly by his side.
He wanted her heart, and the only way he knew how to get it was to take her
body.
He wanted to make her crave his touch as much as he craved hers.
He wanted her to be proud to bear his children.
At the thought of Clarissa pregnant with his child his pace picked up causing
her to let out a gasping sobb. Though he loved every little sound he drew from
her responsive body, none of them were enough, he wanted her to scream his
name.
He set her hips down and lay atop her, his mouth immediately latched onto her
neck and began suckling at the sensitive skin there leaving more marks of his
affection.
Valentine slowly made his way to her ear nipping lightly at it before
whispering to her, "Say my name."
"Burn in he- Agh!-" Clary's reply was interrupted by a sharp thrust of her
father's hips and a resulting shock of pleasure running through her body.
"Let's try that again little angel. Say. My. Name." He punctuated each word
with a precision thrust leaving her a sobbing moaning mess beneath him.
At this point she'd do anything for him to stop and let her go, anything but
that, and she voiced the sentiment to her abuser. "Anything else, please just
let me go."
"Oh Angel I'm sorry but I'm not going to stop until you say my name." Her cunt
started to vibrate around his cock as he attempted to coax his name from her
lips. He dug his hands into her ass again but this time instead of using it as
leverage to fuck her he rolled over until she was on top and gravity did most
of the work for him.
Clary tried to close her legs when Valentine used her bound arms to pull her
into sitting position on his cock, but he locked his legs around her's keeping
her in place while he used his hands to bounce her up and down on his cock.
She felt the pleasure building quicker in her body as she was violated from a
new angle that left her bouncing breasts on display as well as made it look
like she was the one to initiate the coupling, two things her father was very
much enjoying.
She looked like a fallen angel, utterly debauched as her ringlets of heavenly
fire and gold dusted breasts bounced in time to his thrusts. He watched where
they were joined his cock slick with the results of the half dozen orgasms he
gave her earlier. The sight alone caused his balls to tighten with the urge to
cum inside her now and watch their mingled juices drip down her thighs and soak
the sheets. His cock practically vibrated with the effort to hold back, but he
had a goal to accomplish. "Say my name." He said again as Clary practically
doubled over trying to absorb the pleasure consuming her body.
"Please don't make me. I don't want any of this. Please just-ah oh agh!- Please
just make it stop!" Clarys speech was interrupted as her body was wracked with
tremors, trying to hold off her impending orgasm to avoid the humiliation of
coming apart on her father's cock, as well as the fact she didn't know if her
body could take another after his vigorous use of her cunt earlier.
"Say my name and it will all be over I promise."
Clary couldn't think, she just wanted it to stop but everytime she spoke up to
protest or beg for him to stop he'd quicken his pace and her protests would
turn into crys of euphoria. "...v...vale...Valentine..." Clary managed to
stutter out in a whisper after one frighteningly close trip to the edge.
"I'm sorry Angel could you repeat that I didn't quite catch what you said."
"...valentine..." He picked up his pave displeased with her half assed attempts
bringing her closer and closer to the orgasm she's been denying herself.
He sees her teeth bite into her lip as she struggles to form the word and pairs
his furious thrusts with two fingers massaging her clit and she detonates
around him causing her to scream his name as if it was the only word she knew.
"Valentine!" He voice sounds foreign to her ears as they flush red in shame and
the most powerful orgasm of her life works its way through her body. She
unknowingly grinds herself onto Valentine's cock her inner walls milking and
massaging until he finds his own orgasm buried balls deep in her and he fills
her with his tremendous load.
Clary shudders and gasps as she feels herself being filled with Valentine's cum
through her orgasm. He groans as he releases the contents of his balls inside
of her tight little cunt and watches how some of it tries to spill out around
his dick. He flips them over and lifts her hips again, the angle keeping most
of his seed inside of her.
He lazily thrusts his softening member into her, both lightly shivering with
aftershocks. When he finally pulls out his dick it falls flaccid between his
thighs and is covered with the evidence of their tryst, which is now gently
leaking out of Clary's abused pussy and coating her thighs.
Clary moans lightly at the loss of his cock the emptiness at her core now
unfamiliar, and Valentine his half tempted to fuck her all over again. Instead
he gives her a gentle kiss before drawing away from her body and walking over
to her dresser, he quickly grabs what he needs and returns to his debauched
fallen angel.
Valentine winds each of the silk scarves around his hands before using them to
tie Clarissa's legs spread apart and elevated attached to the bed post with
just enough slack to be comfortable.
He took the third item in his hand and made his way between her obscenely
spread legs. Clary murmured in slight protest, barely conscious, and definitely
not coherent, as Valentine ran a finger up her slit before sticking a but plug
in her cunt stopping anymore of his cum from seeping out.
What an image she made, plugged and trussed up, covered in sweat and seamen.
"This is how you will sleep every night until you conceive, and maybe a few
nights after you start to show, after all this is what you were made for. You
exist to serve my cock and bear my children, and the only person you have to
blame for your situation is your mother for taking you away from me and keeping
you in the dark." Valentine crawled into bed beside her, laying his head on her
breasts and resolving to deal with his sons in the morning Valentine fell
asleep as tears slid down Clarissa's cheeks.
----------------------------------
Jonathan didn't trust his father to say the least he needed to protect his
sister from the manic, or else watch her shatter into a million pieces unsure
as to whether or not he could put her back together again.
He left his guard at her door for a moment.
A single minute between crashing objects, and the devil slipped in right under
his nose.
He almost wished to be a mundane when he smelled her fear, and beneath a twinge
of spiteful arousal.
Jonathan threw himself at the door trying to get it open to no avail. It was
rune locked from the inside, and the only person powerful enough to open it was
most likely tied up.
He couldn't hear what his father was in there torturing his sister with but he
knew nonetheless. Something he apparently had in common with Angel boy as he
began banning on his door after Clary's third orgasm.
It was hell sitting there unable to do anything but it was hell enough for
Jonathan to decide...
Valentine dies. Soon.
Chapter End Notes
     So yeah that happened...that last part felt pretty weak but I needed
     a Jon reaction and you've all waited long enough. I've got nothing
     more to say on the matter. Love you all lots and note for future
     reference comments make my day as well as make me write faster even
     if they are about Valenslime.
***** Plans *****
Chapter Summary
     Just some chess pieces being moved around.
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: Just a reminder I'm not Cassandra Clare if I was I'd
     probably have better things to do with my time than write smut...OK I
     do have other things to do but this is more fun.
     A/N: This is a lot later than I intended but half of it got deleted
     and I had to rewrite it. Anywhore...on with the story.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Hatred was an emotion Jonathan Morgenstern was very familiar with, one could
say it was the only emotion he was familiar with. The first time he felt it
he'd been a child no more than five years old and he asked his father where he
went for those long periods of time that he left Jon alone.
An innocent question in and of itself. Valentine then proceeded to tell him
"I go home to my real son, not that you have the right to know." Up until this
point Valentine had been fairly indulgent in Jonathan's desire to pretend to be
a regular boy and the transition was much like the rest of his childhood brutal
and depressing.
Jonathan thought on this as he stood outside of Angel boy's door, how his
father cast him aside in favor of a child that he had no reason to care for.
Jonathan hated Jace.
Hated how he received all the love and attention due to a child that was
rightfully his growing up, and yet still wanted more, yet still had to take
more. Clarissa had been a glimmer of hope in the abyss that was his childhood.
Hope that one day he would get out from beneath his father's thumb and find
her, so that he could finally have someone that loved him.
Now they were both trapped by their father, and Jonathan only had one idea how
to get her out, so he unlocked the other Jonathan's door and waltzed in as if
he hadn't a care in the world.
Jace was sitting cross legged on his bed as if in meditation so Jonathan leaned
against the door lazily blocking the exit before saying what he came to say.
"Baby brother I have a proposition for you."
-----------------------------
Valentine woke to his arms wrapped around his daughter. She was fidgeting
against her bindings with a disgruntled look on her face, for which he was
probably the cause.
The knowledge upset him more than he thought it would. One thing Valentine has
now learned about his daughter is that he's always surprised around her. He
hated that that was just about all he knew about her, and he hated Jocelyn even
more for making it that way.
Of all the things she took when she left this is what hurt him the most. She
kidnapped his daughter and raised her to think she was a mundane. Raised her to
not know him, so that even if they passed each other in the street there
wouldn't have even been a second glance between them.
She stole his legacy and turned his daughter into a stranger.
How she would have blossomed in his care strong, brilliant, brave, and
beautiful.
She still was all of those things despite her mother's best effort. He supposed
Jocelyn did him a favor keeping her away from him even giving her a different
name. His daughter was Seraphina the girl who should have been, but Clarissa,
the woman in his arms was a stranger. He should be grateful to Jocelyn for
giving him the ability to see past such trivial things as accidents of birth,
to see the angel gifted to him.
A particularly violent jerk from Clarissa roused Valentine from his musing. He
deigned to take pity on the restrained woman and untie her wrists, as he
reached across her his morning erection pressed against the smooth skin of her
stomach and pulled a groan from the older man.
He made quick work of her bindings and watched as she immediately curled in on
herself unknowingly rubbing her body along his morning wood as she tried to
resettle. Not quite able to get comfortable because of the bindings that
remained on her ankles she continued to shift around unaware of the effect she
was having on him.
He crawled atop her once more to remove the last of the bindings, as he did so
he set either leg on either side of him keeping her just barely spread open,
and putting his now fully hard erection in a rather fortunate position.
Valentine was currently at an impasse. He very much wanted to fuck Clarissa
again, but he also needed to attend to his plans and see that the two Jonathans
knew their place in it.
The decision was made for him when he noticed a slight shift in her breathing,
she'd be waking up soon enough and he couldn't be here when she did. With that
decided he made his way off the bed and gathered his things almost forgetting
his stele until he spotted it on the floor.
After a sentimental look back at her sleeping form he admitted that she really
bore little resemblance to her mother upon close inspection. Jocelyn was
harder, closed off even, and she had a darker edge to her looks. Clarissa on
the other hand was fire and light given physical form, and he loved her for it,
but he needed to teach her how to control herself or it will be her downfall.
He went back to his chambers and stripped once more stepping into the shower
with the image of Clarissa, bound and bare, still fresh in his mind.
He brought his hand to his cock and began to stroke it imagining Clarissa's
artfully talented fingers wrapped around his shaft. Gripping it tighter he
imagined guiding her hand, teaching her how to please him.
Valentine imagined her kneeling down in front of him such a small thing already
that she had to tilt her head up to lick his cock from the base to the head. He
thought about the way her lips would look like wrapped around his shaft taking
his cock into her mouth inch by inch with her eyes locked on his.
He groaned bowing his head forward and closing his eyes getting lost in the
fantasy.
Soon enough he would get her to fall in line with the rest and then he'll be
done with pitiful imaginings. He'd have his little angel on her knees so
desperate to please him that she'd let him fuck her mouth while she fingered
her perfect little cunt.
With a loud groan he came in his first the image of Clarissa sucking him off
while touching herself still fresh in his mind. Soon enough he'll have her.
----------------------------------
Jonathan stood outside his sister's door once more. It was now unlocked but he
didn't know how to approach the situation.
He failed her.
Again.
He said he'd protect her from exactly what their father had just finished
doing, and he didn't.
His blood boiled at the thought of his Father's sick obsession with Clarissa.
He didn't love her, he lusted after her power and her body. Valentine wanted to
use her, Jonathan just wanted her to love him.
Jonathan knocked tentatively on the door and waited for a response.
"Jonathan?" His sister's soft voice from the other side of the door was
disorienting, there was a new quality laced in it that he couldn't quite place
his finger on. He hoped it wasn't defeat as he pressed forward moving into the
room through the unlocked door.
Clarissa watched from the bed as her brother entered the room and closed the
door behind him all while failing to look at her. She was still naked and
filthy covered in the evidence of their father's attentions from the night
before.
They waited in silence for a small eternity, her waiting for him to speak, him
waiting to find the right words to say. Clarissa Gabe up on waiting for her
brother and cut through the silence with a question sharp as a dagger. "Did you
know why he wanted me?"
The question has been on her mind longer than she'd care to admit.
"I suspected but no. I didn't know the extent of his intentions." Not until it
was too late. I never wanted this for either of us. Jonathan wished he had the
strength to complete his thought out loud. To tell her how sorry he was, but he
didn't so he kept his eyes on the floor and waited for his angel to pass
judgement upon him.
"Why don't I believe you."
"Because you don't trust me." It wasn't really a question but he answered
anyway, desperate to prolong any interaction with his sister.
"And do you trust me Jonathan."
"Yes." Something about the way she said his name had him responding
automatically and honestly. He trusts her more than anyone else in this world,
and it terrifies him. He looked up finally, curious as to how she would process
this information.
Clarissa was very non reactive to her brothers revelation, to her it didn't
really matter if he meant it or not, so long as he did what she asked of him.
"I need you to do something for me Jonathan."
"Anything."
"I need a stele." She trained her eyes on his and saw the panic flash across
his face for a moment before his walls came back up.
"I can't do that." He responded simply leaving so much unsaid.
"Can't or won't?" They both knew her was very capable of reaching into his
pocket and handing her the stele he always carried with him. He was making a
choice and she wanted him to recognize that.
"If I give you a stele you'll be gone by nightfall."
"Would that be such a bad thing? You could come with us."
"No I couldn't, and neither could Jace, or your mother. He has tracking runes
on us. You might be gone by nightfall but he'll drag us back by morning." He
was playing a risk telling her this, that she could just leave without them.
Hopefully she's not as selfish as her mother. He stepped forward not stopping
till he was just in front of the bed where she was sitting. "I just need a
little more time."
He approached her like a scared animal, reaching his hand up but not quite
touching her. "I can't Jonathan I can't go on like this..." He could almost see
a tear in her eye as her voice drifted off. She has every right to feel this
way he knows that, and he doesn't want that bastard laying another finger on
her anymore than she does, but unfortunately they could only come up with one
plan to end Valentine and it requires compliance...from all of them.
"I'm sorry Angel," Clary jerked back as if he'd hit her.
"Don't call me that! He always says that...right before, he says it helps him
forget I'm his daughter." Jonathan was going to kill him.
"I'm sorry Clarissa. I shouldn't have said that. Jace and I have a plan to get
us all out of here. We just need to wait for Valentine to let his guard down.
Can you do that for just a little while longer?"
"I want to kill him." The harsh words and cool tone was completely in contrast
to her previous demeanor, and Jonathan was momentarily taken aback, though he
recovered quickly reaching forward to grab her hand.
"I promise Clarissa when this is all over you can be the one to end him, in
whatever manner you choose." An understanding passed between the two siblings
as they sealed their father's fate, and in that moment neither Heaven nor Hell
could stand in their way.
-----------------------------
Meanwhile Valentine entered the room his adoptive son was currently residing
in. He had business to take care of that didn't involve rolling around naked
with the heavenly creature across the hall.
Jace was sitting on his bed and the picture of complete self control.
"Aren't you even going to try and fight me? Clarissa threw a very well targeted
hair brush." His speech was almost mocking. Valentine was clearly trying to get
a reaction out of Jace, but despite his personal reputation he was not as rash
and headstrong as everyone believed him to be.
"Yet here you are, it clearly didn't do her much good. So if you don't mind
I'll save my energy for a time when I have the upper hand."
"I raised you well."
"Why did you do that?" Jace asked momentarily distracted from finding the point
of Valentine being here.
"Do what?" Valentine pretended to be obtuse, knowing exactly what Jace was
referring to.
"Why did you raise me?"
"Because your parents were dead and I'd already invested a lot of time into
you."
"Who were they?" He said before amending for clarification, "My parents... Who
were my parents?"
"My second in command Stephen Herondale and his second wife. Your father died
in a battle and your mother killed herself soon after. I cut you out of her
dead body." Valentine watched Jace for a reaction, but he didn't know whether
to be proud or upset by his lack of one.
"Why are you here?"
"I just want my son back."
"I was never your son." Valentine seems to have gone into this thinking he'd be
able to wave his hand and everything could go back to the way it was. Jace just
wanted to know hours endgame, and luckily for him he won't have to wait long to
hear it.
"We could change that. Legally at least."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but it can't be adoption since I'm
legally an adult in the eyes of the Clave."
"No Jonathan I'm not talking about adoption. I'm talking about matrimony. You
and Clarissa are going to get married."
"What if I say no" Jace was at a loss for words, but he couldn't let that show.
He needed to figure out what Valentine stood to gain from this match.
"Then I'll marry her off to someone who'll say yes. I chose you because you
love her. I could very easily pick someone more...compliant."
"And what if she says no?" Jace was stalling, still confused by the whole
situation.
"She has her own set of incentives." Namely her family and friends locked in my
dungeon.
"Do either of us really have a choice in the matter?" The question was
rhetorical but Valentine answered anyway leaving no room for further argument.
"No."
"What do you stand to gain from this?" It was the last question Jace could
think of, but it was undoubtedly the most pertinent one. What is Valentine
getting out of this, because whatever it may be it means this can't be good.
"I'm getting too be an old man, is it really so bad to want grand children?" Or
in reality a cover for the children he and Clarissa will have.
"It seems every decision has already been made for me." Jace was again at a
loss for words, but maybe they could work with this..."When's the wedding?"
"A week from today."
Chapter End Notes
     So again sorry about the delay but it was midterms, I had 4 papers to
     write, and I'm bombing my intro to psychology course. Bottom line
     don't believe the lies they tell you that college is fun, and I'm
     dropping the psychology course. Hopefully that will give me more time
     to write. Anyway love you all and you can expect another chapter soon
     because SPRING BREAK MOTHER FUCKERS!!!
***** Bonded *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry guys I tried to get this out before my break was officially
     over because you guys are awesome and deserve it, but this felt like
     something I needed to take my time with.
     Disclaimer: This chapter contains inserts from City of Glass I didn't
     write and therefore have no intellectual claim over it. That belongs
     entirely to Cassandra Clare.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jonathan was in the training room alone slicing away at a training dummy when
Valentine came to get him.
"I thought I might find you here." When Jonathan was younger he always wondered
how his father managed to find him so quickly, no matter how far he ran, then
he found the journals and realized how his father tagged all of the circle
members and it wasn't to hard to connect the dots. He stoped trying to run away
after that.
"Where else would I be?" Jonathan stabbed his sword into the dummy before
turning to face his father.
"In my office in five minutes." Valentine said before turning around and
walking out the door.
"Yes sir." Jonathan mumbled under his breath at the now closed door.
It seems like it's finally time for them to tall about his plans moving
forward, Jonathan thought. He didn't much like bring out of the loop and he
knew the old man had just got back from visiting his more angelic half.
Jonathan add always was last in his father's thoughts, at least for now.
He made his way through the sprawling manor remarking at how much nicer it was
than the shack where he was raised. Not that it matters, a gilded cage is still
a cage. He stopped outside of his father's door and knocked before waiting to
be invited in. Once inside he sprawled sideways in the nearest chair, feet
hanging off one end torso off the other, silently dared his father to berate
him.
Valentine dismissed the flagrant disrespect as a result of the demons savage
nature, nor even considering that it could be the actions of his teenage son
begging for attention. He leveled his gaze at Jonathan from his own seat across
the desk.
Jonathan knew not to speak unless spoken to, so he waited for his father to
collect his thoughts whole pretending to clean his nails with a dagger.
"Jonathan, look at me when I'm speaking to you." Jonathan rolled his eyes
dramatically before turning around in his chair to face his father.
"I'm sorry father, I wasn't aware that I was being addressed just yet." The
sarcasm in his tone was evident, though Valentine elected to ignore it.
"I need you to keep an eye on your sister till Saturday." Valentine's tone was
assertive and even, it left no room for confusion or argument. Simply an order
that Jonathan was expected to follow. Jonathan how've has a different idea.
"Why only til Saturday?" He inquired hoping to get an angle on his father's
plans.
"Because she'll be marring Jace on Saturday and I'd rather she not run away or
otherwise injur herself until then." He was giving her away. It's not bad
enough that he spends every spare moment defiling her, but now in addition to
that he has the audacity to give away the only thing left in this world that he
loves and could possibly love him to the entitled angel boy who took everything
from him in the first place. Jonathan was furious, and he almost felt betrayed
by this, though any bit of trust between the two men had long since shriveled
up and died.
"Does she know this." Jonathan said attempting to mask his rage.
"Does it matter. She'll do what I tell her to do, or she'll watch her friends
be executed."
"Of course father. Anything else?"
"No you are dismissed." Jonathan got up and walked out of his father's office
as calmly as he could manage but the second the door was closed behind him he
was sprinting down the hall towards Clarissa's room.
He barged in forgetting to knock and was confronted with the sight of his
sister naked in her pure angelic beauty. She almost didn't look real, heavenly
fire bound in flesh, she was perfect.
Then he noticed the bruises marking her body, as his eyes rested on them
Clarissa's arms came up to cover herself. Obsidian met emerald and she finally
spoke.
"What do you want Jonathan"
"Our father's heart on a spike." She smirked at that, in another life it could
have been a laugh but not now, not after what he put her through.
"Get in line" She turned back to the wardrobe to make a clothing selection.
There really wasn't anything to her taste it was all designer and expensive,
and she refused to even think about the underwear drawer again.
He walked over to the bed and sat facing away from her for the sake of false
modesty, the urgency that initially possessed him soothed by her presence.
"Why are you here?" She asked as she settled on the least pretentious pair of
jeans she could find and a white long sleeve thermal shirt. Jonathan choose to
ponder her previous state of dress later, his initial sense of urgency
returning with her reminder.
"Father wants me to keep an eye on you until the wedding. You're all set to
marry Angel boy at the end of this week." Clary visibly paled at the statement.
"I don't entirely know his motivation yet..."
"A cover. He wants a cover up for when I get pregnant. I can imagine there are
only so many things a genocidal maniac can do before peace isn't worth it,
raping and impregnating your daughter is probably high on the list." Her voice
wavered towards the end but she got the words out. Jonathan was at a loss for
words.
"We won't let it get that far. I have a plan." And her really did. A crazy,
stupid, brilliant plan that was likely to get them all killed. Clary however
has long since decided she'd rather die than live the rest of her life as her
father's prized brood mare.
"What do I have to do?"
"Nothing too difficult you just have to draw a rune."
------------------------
After discussing the new plan Jonathan decided to keep to his orders and watch
Clarissa, so he figured that plus the unlocked door means she's now free to do
some exploring.
He took her on a walk in the gardens and for the moment they were acting like
real siblings.
"No fair you cheated!" Clary exclaimed at her brother as she kept trying to hit
him in retaliation. They had just finished racing to the gardens and years of
shadow hunter training deemed Jonathan the Victor.
"How is it cheating if I'm just better than you?" He said as he easily dogged
her attacks, only further proving his point.
"It is because brothers are supposed to let their little sisters win things.
That's just how this whole sibling thing works." At the word brother he paused
giving her an opening to get one hit in.
"That's the first time you've called me that." He said while she enjoyed her
small triumph.
"I suppose it is, would you rather I call you something else?" Clary didn't
know how to respond though having never really dealt with a situation like
this. Not even with Jace, the word just hadn't felt right.
He really wouldn't, he loves the connection they share. One that no one else in
this world can claim, but would she still love him the way he needs her to as
her brother? 'Only one way to find out' Jonathan thought before saying, "I like
it, though it doesn't seem proper considering how we meet." Namely me shoving
my tongue down her throat hours later, but semantics really. They both thought
back to that day with mixed emotions
"I don't think anything about our family can be called proper." She walked over
to a stone bench and sat down. It was quiet for some time her sitting,
contemplating her situation, and Jonathan standing, contemplating his next
move.
"Fair assessment sister." He sad as he walked over and sat beside her. The
remained quiet for some time after just drawing strength from each other's
company until Clarissa broke the silence with another question.
"Why did you do it?" She asked filling in the silence that settled over them.
"Do what? Clarissa you're going to have to be more specific." He knew exactly
what she was talking about. He also knew she wasn't ready for the answer. He
was giving her an out.
"Why did you kiss me Jonathan?" She didn't take it.
"Do I need a reason?" Jonathan was stalling. She wasn't ready to hear the
answer, he was sure she wouldn't understand. Not yet at least. He needed more
time.
"Yes." Clarissa unfortunately for him, was nor going to let this go. She needed
to know why he kissed her knowing what they really were to each other.
"Why do you want to know?" It seemed he wouldn't be getting his extra time.
"Because you aren't supposed to kiss your sister. It's not right."
"Well then I suppose you have your answer. I kissed you because I'm wrong." As
much as he loathed to admit it, it was the truth. He was wrong in the core of
his very being for desiring his sister in that way. He hated himself for it,
but he wouldn't change it for anything. Loving Clarissa is the only light in
his life and he won't be letting go of that anytime soon.
"Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true." Jonathan stretched his hands out in front of him turning
his gaze to them, the hands of a monster. "I'm not like other shadowhunters.
Father did something to me before I was born."
Clary moved closer to him on the bench and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Whatever Valentine told you, it was a lie. You're just like the rest of us."
Jonathan looked down at the hand on his shoulder, before his eyes traveled up
to meet hers. "My sweet sister you don't even know what he did to you. How can
you make assumptions about me?"
"Whatever he told you it was a lie. There's nothing wrong with us, we're just
like everyone else."
"Wrong on all counts, except one, dear sister. There's nothing wrong with you,
you're the most right thing in this world, but you're not like everyone else.
You're better, and I'm worse. Father didn't tell me anything he kept journals
for all of us. Experiment logs to be more precise, that's all I've ever been to
him. An experiment gone wrong."
"I don't believe it." Clary didn't think she'd ever hated Valentine more than
she did in this moment. How could someone treat a child like they're less than
human until they eventually believed it, she didn't understand how valentine
could do that to b his fist born child. More importantly she couldn't believe
what could possibly be so bad that Jonathan still thinks that.
"Then I guess I'll have to show you. How do you feel about taking a field trip
little sister?" Jonathan got up and reached his hand back down to help
Clarissa. She took it hesitantly before responding.
"So long as you answer my questions."
"In due time dear one, but first we need to go get your Angel boy." They walked
back into the manor and went directly to Jace's room. Jonathan unlocked the
door and barged in, Clary following close behind him.
Jace looked up from his book at the intrusion and visibly faltered when he saw
Clary. However it took him only a moment to recover and race across the room to
sweep her into his arms.
Or he would have I'd Jonathan hadn't placed himself between them. "If it's not
too much to ask I'd rather you not defile my sister in front of me."
Jace all but ignored him. "Clary is that really you?" She stepped out from
behind her brother to get a better look at Jace, he seemed fine. Not fine
considering the circumstances, just fine. Clary didn't know whether to be
relieved or worried.
"Of course it is. You haven't forgotten me already have you?" She meant it to
be a joke but clearly no one was in a laughing mood.
Have pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her before he ghosted his
lips over her own in something that barely qualified as a kiss but made her
weak in the knees never the less. "I'm so sorry Clary. I never meant for you to
get mixed up in any of this." His words reminded her of the last time she'd
been kissed and she pulled back to the relative safety of her brothers company.
"It's fine Jace. None of us meant for this to happen." Jace looked up at the
way Jonathan wrapped his arms around Clary and doubted the full truth of that
statement. For someone who didn't mean for this to happen he didn't seem to
upset by the circumstances. Clary continued on ignorant to the pissing contest
she was currently in the middle of. "I'm sure we would all like to see this
over and done with sooner than later, and right now we need your help with
something."
"Anything" Jace responded immediately. He expected Clary to keep talking but
was surprised when it was Jonathan that voiced the request.
"We need you to take us to Wayland Manor to retrieve father's experiment logs."
"Why would you need those?" It was Clary who responded this time. Though
Jonathan would have loved to rub their 'sibling bonding' moment in Jace's face.
"We're going to fight Valentine and so far he knows more about us than we do
about ourselves. I just want to level the playing field a bit. Hodge once told
me he experimented on himself in the early stages, maybe there are some lasting
side effects that can work to our advantage." She wasn't completely lying. That
would be good to know. The two men seemed impressed with her strategy though
Jonathan was still trying to look as if he had known the whole time.
"That's not a bad plan. One question though, how are we getting there?" To this
both Clary and Jace looked to Jonathan for the answer. "It's not a far walk we
can be there and back by sundown."
Jace seemed satisfied with this answer but Clary had another idea. "As fun as
walking sounds I have a more time efficient option. The only thing I need is a
stele. Jonathan looked warily at Clary before he reluctantly pulled a stele out
of his pocket and handed it to her.
"I'm trusting you. We have a solid plan, and I'd rather not take any
unnecessary risks." He gave Clary a pointed look before letting go of the
stele.
"Relax Jonathan, we'll be there and back before anyone realizes we were gone."
Clary turned to the wall behind her and began to draw the portal rune. She
stepped back when she finished and turned towards Jace. "You're up."
Jace stepped forward picturing his childhood home then Clary and Jonathan each
took a hold of his hands and they all disappeared into the hurricane.
"Somewhere between here and there Clary's hand was torn out of Jace's. When the
hurricane spit her out and she hit the floor, she hit it alone, hard, and
rolled gasping to a stop.
She sat up slowly and looked around. She was lying in the center of a Persian
rug thrown over the floor of a large stone-walled room. There were items of
furniture here and there; the white sheets thrown over them turned them into
humped, unwieldy ghosts. Velvet curtains sagged across huge glass windows; the
velvet was gray-white with dust, and motes of dust danced in the moonlight.
"Clary?" Jace emerged from behind a massive white-sheeted shape; it might have
been a grand piano. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Clary said as she lifted herself off the floor."
Before Jace could even move in her direction Jonathan was there, seemingly
unruffled by their journey, and pulling Clary to her feet. "That was incredible
Clary!" Jonathan exclaimed as he pulled his sister close to him. "How long have
you been able to do that?"
"Oh, I just kind of think of what I need and a rune comes to me. The portal was
a fairly recent discovery." She met Jace's eyes as she finished her statement,
recalling the circumstances that brought about her making that rune in the
first place.
Jace wanted to tell her why he did it. He wanted to explain to her why he
needed to keep her away from the Clave, to keep her safe. He wanted to offer a
million excuses and apologies to try and make her understand. He said none of
these things, and instead found himself saying "For whatever it's worth, I was
very impressed."
"Thanks." Clary glanced around. "So this is where you grew up? It's like
something out of a fairy tale."
"I was thinking a horror movie," Jace said. "God, it's been years since I've
seen this place. It didn't use to be so—"
"So cold?" Clary shivered a little. She buttoned her coat, but the cold in the
manor was more than physical cold: The place felt cold, as if there had never
been warmth or light or laughter inside it.
"No," said Jace. "It was always cold. I was going to say dusty." He took a
witchlight stone out of his pocket, and it flared to life between his fingers.
Its white glow lit his face from beneath, picking out the shadows under his
cheekbones, the hollows at his temples. "This is the study, and we need the
library. Come on."
They followed have down the haunted halls minds a drift as they pondered their
situation.
Jonathan knew that Valentine preferred his adopted son to him but he didn't
write realize how much until he saw the dramatic difference in their living
situations. "Was it just the two of you here alone all the time?" He asked.
"Us and the servants. They kept to themselves though for the most part." Jace
responded as he led them down a long corridor lined with dozens of mirrors that
gave back their own reflections. Clary hadn't realized quite how disheveled she
looked: her skin streaked with dust, her hair snarled from the wind. She tried
to smooth it down discreetly and caught Jace's grin in the next mirror. For
some reason, due doubtless to a mysterious Shadowhunter magic she didn't have a
hope of understanding, his hair looked perfect. Jonathan caught her fusing and
tucked her hair behind her ear, and his hand lingered for half a second longer
than proper, she looked up at him as his hand slid down her cheek and blushed
because this strange shadowhunter magic applied to Jim as well. There wasn't a
hair out of place on his person and Clary suddenly felt the need to look at
anything but him, as the familiar sense of being sucked down a black hole
overcame her once more.
The corridor was lined with doors, some open; through them Clary could glimpse
other rooms, as dusty and unused-looking as the study had been. Michael Wayland
had had no relatives, Valentine had said, so she supposed no one had inherited
this place after his "death"—she had assumed Valentine had carried on living
here, but that seemed clearly not to be the case. Everything breathed sorrow
and disuse. At Renwick's, Valentine had called this place home, had showed it
to Jace in the Portal mirror, a gilt-edged memory of green fields and mellow
stone, but that, Clary thought, had been a lie too. It was clear Valentine
hadn't really lived here in years—perhaps he had just left it here to rot, or
he had come here only occasionally, to walk the dim corridors like a ghost.
They reached a door at the end of the hallway and Jace shouldered it open,
standing back to let Clary pass into the room before him. She had been
picturing the library at the Institute, and this room was not entirely unlike
it: the same walls filled with row upon row of books, the same ladders on
rolling casters so the high shelves could be reached. The ceiling was flat and
beamed, though, not conical, and there was no desk. Green velvet curtains,
their folds iced with white dust, hung over windows that alternated panes of
green and blue glass. In the moonlight they sparkled like colored frost. Beyond
the glass, all was black.
"This is the library?" she said to Jace in a whisper, though she wasn't sure
why she was whispering. There was something so profoundly still about the big,
empty house.
He was looking past her, his eyes dark with memory. "I used to sit in that
window seat and read whatever my father had assigned me that day. Different
languages on different days—French on Saturday, English on Sunday—but I can't
remember now what day Latin was, if it was Monday or Tuesday…."
"It was Monday. The first language for the first day of the week. Tuesday was
Greek, then Italian, Russian, and Romanian." Jonathan said as he entered the
room. Despite his complexion being all parlor he had a way of blending into the
shadows. Before either Jace or Clary could realize he was at the bookshelf that
held their target. "I assume since he taught us the same languages, gave us the
same name, and the same birthday gifts that there was little variation in our
training overall."
"Everything was an experiment to him apparently." The room grew impossibly
colder as Jace's words hung heavy in the air the two men contemplating the
similarities they bore and Clarissa wondering if there was even a scrap of
humanity left in Valentine's heart, and then get eyes settled on a little blue
book 'Simple Recipes for Housewives'. She walked over to the shelf and picked
it up.
"What have you got there?" Jonathan was on edge the energy of the room just
screamed that he doesn't belong here, that he needs to leave. There was almost
a tangible sense of light magic in the air that grated against his skin, and
for some reason it was coming from the book in Clarissa's hands. Clary didn't
respond at first she simply opened the book as if she didn't hear him. Jace was
growing concerned as well, neither of them understanding the gravity of the
situation until Clary dropped the cookbook shell and held up the book of the
white.
"A game changer."
Chapter End Notes
     Dun Dun Dun...OK 1 I'm sorry this chapter should be much longer but I
     have no idea how I'm going to write the angel scene and this much has
     just been chilling on my desk top for a few weeks now so have at it.
     Also these plot bunnies are going to be the death of me, I swear
     every time I sit down to write I can think of everything but what I
     need. Bright side I have a few things coming your way after I finish
     this. Downside they're sidetracking me from finishing. I'll try to be
     less incompetent. Laters love
***** Secrets *****
Chapter Notes
     OK so this is a long one but it contains an excerpt from the canon
     that makes up a fairly decent chunk so I felt I had to write twice as
     much as I included, then it was taking really long and I felt bad so
     I thought I'd add a smutty bit, now it's the longest chapter I've
     written so far so here you go...
Jonathan and Clarissa were fighting. The library once silent as the grave was
now filed with the raucous sounds of the two siblings having a screaming match
while Jace looked on in confusion and fear, not that he'd admit to either, but
Clary has just enlightened the two males to her deal with Magnus and Jonathan
is convinced she's being cheated.
"I'm not saying your mother doesn't mean that much to you, I'm just saying that
the most powerful spellbook in this world for a fancy wake up call doesn't seem
like a fair trade!"
"Well that's not your decision to make Jonathan. I already made the deal and
I'm sticking to it!"
"By the angel Clarissa would you just listen to reason for once in your life!
Think about it what good would being awake really do your mother if we're all
still prisoners?" They had been shouting at each other back and forth for some
time now and the resulting silence from Jonathan's statement was deafening.
"Magnus Bane is a very powerful warlock and having him help us with our plans
would definitively increase our chances of survival in addition to success."
"We can't ask him to fight our battle for us, and leveraging something I
already promised to him just seems wrong. Magnus trusts me." Jace stepped in
and tried to wrap his arm around her but she brushed him off taking a step
closer to her brother.
"Right and wrong take a back seat to dead or alive sister, and if we don't stop
our father soon that's the choice you'll be making for all of your friends. Is
that really how you want this to go?" Her eyes clouded over as she considered
his words and Jonathan to brush a hand across her shoulder hopping the human
contact would bring her back to reality. It worked to an extent as she came to
shaking off the images that came with his words. "I'm not suggesting you break
your deal Clarissa. Just that you add to it, 'Wake up my mother and help me
defeat my father.' simple enough."
"You don't understand Jonathan. This is our fight. I can't ask him to risk his
life to solve my problems." This time when Jace Reached for her she let him
wrap her up in his arms and she buried her face in his chest. She wasn't
crying, and she didn't feel the need to, but this whole situation was starting
to take its toll on her. Clary was exhausted.
"If Valentine remains in charge, he's going to become this whole world's
problem, and someone as smart as the high warlock of Brooklyn will understand
that."
"OK. We do it your way, but when the time comes I'll do the talking." Clary
sighed and finally drew herself away from Jace's chest before turning to face
her brother once more.
"Great. Now let's get what we came here for and get the fuck out, this place is
starting to give me the creeps."
"Agreed." Jace said as he made his way over to the shelf filed with black
leather bound journals. He went to reach for one before stoping himself with
his hand hovering just inches away from one of them. "I was never allowed to
even look at this shelf growing up," he paused seeming to be deliberating, "I
don't think I can do this." He dropped his hand and head before stepping back
in shame suddenly very conscious of his weakness. Even after all these years
being in this place turned him back into the scared little boy who did what he
was told. Not that it mattered. The second he said be couldn't Jonathan stepped
up behind him and grabbed a book.
"My son Jonathan Christopher..." he read aloud from the worn parchment pages.
"He says that but he treated me more like a weapon than his son." Jonathan
replaced the book on the shelf and turned back to his sister.
"We'll be here all day if we have to read them one by one."
"Do you have a better idea Clarissa?" Jonathan responded
"That depends, do you have a pen?" It was Jace who figured out what she had in
mind and he went over to the desk to retrieve a piece of paper and drawing
utensil. Then Clary set to work drawing the shelves and books with careful
detail then etching the little rune in the corner of the page. She walked up to
the shelf and turned to her brother, a light smirk tickling at the edge of her
lip before she unceremoniously swept her arm across the shelf causing all of
the books to tumble into the page.
"You never cease to amaze me." Jonathan said staring at the small woman in
front of him who then folded the paper and tucked it into her coat pocket. He
was so caught up in his musing that he almost didn't hear the clicks and
whirling of the shelf being pulled up the wall revealing a set of stairs
leading down.
"I don't remember this place ever having a basement." Jace piped up, a dash of
concern touching his voice.
"Please don't tell me this is Valentine's secret sex dungeon." Clary said
attempting to light the mood.
"As delightful as that image is little sister I believe it's just one of his
regular dungeons. We should probably leave before something escapes and tries
to kill us." Jonathan couldn't place the feeling but he didn't belong there.
Simply standing at the edge of the doorway made his skin feel like it was
peeling off of his bones.
"I don't remember there even being a cellar here," Jace said, staring past
Clary at the gaping hole in the wall. He raised the witchlight, and its glow
bounced off the downward-leading tunnel. The walls were black and slick, made
of a smooth dark stone Clary didn't recognize. The steps gleamed as if they
were damp. A strange smell drifted up through the opening: dank, musty, with a
weird metallic tinge that set her nerves on edge.
"What do you think could be down there?" She asked
"I don't know." Jace moved toward the stairs; he put a foot on the top step,
testing it, and then shrugged as if he'd made up his mind. He began to make his
way down the steps, moving carefully. Partway down he turned and looked up at
Clary. "Are you coming? You can wait up here for me if you want to."
She glanced back at Jonathan who seemed to be inching further and further from
the cellar door. "We should really get out off here I have a bad feeling about
this." He said holding his hands out to her. She looked back at the doorway and
the receding glow from Jace's witch light.
"It'll just be a moment," she said turning back to her brother before following
Jace down the stairs.
———————————————
A/N: most of the following text till the next break comes straight out of CoG
and is the intellectual property of Cassandra Clare. I debated whether or not I
should include this scene, but every abridged summary I tried to write with
flashes and snitbits fell flat of the actual thing. Also this is exactly what
is happening at this point in the story and none of the changes I made
previously would effect this scene as a whole so here you go
———————————————
The stairs spiraled down in tighter and tighter circles, as if they were making
their way through the inside of a huge conch shell. The smell grew stronger as
they reached the bottom, and the steps widened out into a large square room
whose stone walls were streaked with the marks of damp—and other, darker
stains. The floor was scrawled with markings: a jumble of pentagrams and runes,
with white stones scattered here and there.
Jace took a step forward and something crunched under his feet. He and Clary
looked down at the same time. "Bones," Clary whispered. Not white stones after
all, but bones of all shapes and sizes, scattered across the floor. "What was
he doing down here?"
The witchlight burned in Jace's hand, casting its eerie glow over the room.
"Experiments," Jace said in a dry, tense tone. "The Seelie Queen said—"
"What kind of bones are these?" Clary's voice rose. "Are they animal bones?"
"No." Jace kicked a pile of bones with his feet, scattering them. "Not all of
them."
Clary's chest felt tight. "I think we should go back."
Instead Jace raised the witchlight in his hand. It blazed out, brightly and
then more brightly, lighting the air with a harsh white brilliance. The far
corners of the room sprang into focus. Three of them were empty. The fourth was
blocked with a hanging cloth. There was something behind the cloth, a humped
shape—
"Jace," Clary whispered. "What is that?"
He didn't reply. There was a seraph blade in his free hand, suddenly; Clary
didn't know when he'd drawn it, but it shone in the witchlight like a blade of
ice.
"Jace, don't," said Clary, but it was too late—he strode forward and twitched
the cloth aside with the tip of the blade, then seized it and jerked it down.
It fell in a blossoming cloud of dust.
Jace staggered back, the witchlight falling from his grasp. As the blazing
light fell, Clary caught a single glimpse of his face: It was a white mask of
horror. Clary snatched the witchlight up before it could go dark and raised it
high, desperate to see what could have shocked Jace—unshockable Jace—so badly.
At first all she saw was the shape of a man—a man wrapped in a dirty white rag,
crouched on the floor. Manacles circled his wrists and ankles, attached to
thick metal staples driven into the stone floor. How can he be alive? Clary
thought in horror, and bile rose up in her throat. The rune-stone shook in her
hand, and light danced in patches over the prisoner: She saw emaciated arms and
legs, scarred all over with the marks of countless tortures. The skull of a
face turned toward her, black empty sockets where the eyes should have been—and
then there was a dry rustle, and she saw that what she had thought was a white
rag were wings, white wings rising up behind his back in two pure white
crescents, the only pure things in this filthy room.
She gave a dry gasp. "Jace. Do you see—"
"I see." Jace, standing beside her, spoke in a voice that cracked like broken
glass.
"You said there weren't any angels—that no one had ever seen one—"
Jace was whispering something under his breath, a string of what sounded like
panicked curses. He stumbled forward, toward the huddled creature on the
floor—and recoiled, as if he had bounced off an invisible wall. Looking down,
Clary saw that the angel crouched inside a pentagram made of connected runes
graven deeply into the floor; they glowed with a faint phosphorescent light.
"The runes," she whispered. "We can't get past—"
"But there must be something—" Jace said, his voice nearly breaking, "something
we can do."
The angel raised its head. Clary saw with a distracted, terrible pity that it
had curling golden hair like Jace's that shone dully in the light. Tendrils
clung close to the hollows of its skull. Its eyes were pits, its face slashed
with scars, like a beautiful painting destroyed by vandals. As she stared, its
mouth opened and a sound poured from its throat—not words but a piercing golden
music, a single singing note, held and held and held so high and sweet that the
sound was like pain—
A flood of images rose up before Clary's eyes. She was still clutching the
rune-stone, but its light was gone; she was gone, no longer there but somewhere
else, where the pictures of the past flowed before her in a waking
dream—fragments, colors, sounds.
She was in a wine cellar, bare and clean, a single huge rune scrawled on the
stone floor. A man stood beside it; he held an open book in one hand and a
blazing white torch in the other. When he raised his head, Clary saw that it
was Valentine: much younger, his face unlined and handsome, his dark eyes clear
and bright. As he chanted, the rune blazed up into fire, and when the flames
receded, a crumpled figure lay among the ashes: an angel, wings spread and
bloody, like a bird shot out of the sky….
The scene changed. Valentine stood by a window, at his side a young woman with
shining red hair. A familiar silver ring gleamed on his hand as he reached to
put his arms around her. With a jolt of pain Clary recognized her mother—but
she was young, her features soft and vulnerable. She was wearing a white
nightgown and was obviously pregnant.
"The Accords," Valentine was saying angrily, "were not just the worst idea the
Clave has ever had, but the worst thing that could happen to Nephilim. That we
should be bound to Downworlders, tied to those creatures—"
"Valentine," Jocelyn said with a smile, "enough about politics, please." She
reached up and twined her arms around Valentine's neck, her expression full of
love—and his was as well, but there was something else in it, something that
sent a shiver down Clary's spine….
Valentine knelt in the center of a circle of trees. There was a bright moon
overhead, illuminating the black pentagram that had been scrawled into the
scraped earth of the clearing. The branches of trees made a thick net overhead;
where they extended above the edge of the pentagram, their leaves curled and
turned black. In the center of the five-pointed star sat a woman with long,
shining hair; her shape was slim and lovely, her face hidden in shadow, her
arms bare and white. Her left hand was extended in front of her, and as she
opened her fingers, Clary could see that there was a long slash across her
palm, dripping a slow stream of blood into a silver cup that rested on the
pentagram's edge. The blood looked black in the moonlight, or perhaps it was
black.
"The child born with this blood in him," she said, and her voice was soft and
lovely, "will exceed in power the Greater Demons of the abysses between the
worlds. He will be more mighty than the Asmodei, stronger than the shedim of
the storms. If he is properly trained, there is nothing he will not be able to
do. Though I warn you," she added, "it will burn out his humanity, as poison
burns the life from the blood."
"My thanks to you, Lady of Edom," said Valentine, and as he reached to take the
cup of blood, the woman lifted her face, and Clary saw that though she was
otherwise beautiful, her eyes were hollow black holes from which curled waving
black tentacles, like feelers probing the air. Clary stifled a scream—
The night, the forest, vanished. Jocelyn stood facing someone Clary couldn't
see. She was no longer pregnant, and her bright hair straggled around her
stricken, despairing face. "I can't stay with him, Ragnor," she said. "Not for
another day. I read his book. Do you know what he did to Jonathan? I didn't
think even Valentine could do that." Her shoulders shook. "He used demon
blood—Jonathan's not a baby anymore. He isn't even human; he's a monster—"
She vanished. Valentine was pacing restlessly around the circle of runes, a
seraph blade shining in his hand. "Why won't you speak?" he muttered. "Why
won't you give me what I want?" He drove down with the knife, and the angel
writhed as golden liquid poured from its wound like spilled sunlight. "If you
won't give me answers," Valentine hissed, "you can give me your blood. It will
do me and mine more good than it will you."
Now they were in the Wayland library. Sunlight shone through the diamond-paned
windows, flooding the room with blue and green. Voices came from another room:
the sounds of laughter and chatting, a party going on. Jocelyn knelt by the
bookshelf, glancing from side to side. She drew a thick book from her pocket
and slipped it onto the shelf….
And she was gone. The scene showed a cellar, the same cellar that Clary knew
she was standing in right now. The same scrawled pentagram scarred the floor,
and within the center of the star lay the angel. Valentine stood by, once again
with a burning seraph blade in his hand. He looked years older now, no longer a
young man. "Ithuriel," he said. "We are old friends now, aren't we? I could
have left you buried alive under those ruins, but no, I brought you here with
me. All these years I've kept you close, hoping one day you would tell me what
I wanted—needed—to know." He came closer, holding the blade out, its blaze
lighting the runic barrier to a shimmer. "When I summoned you, I dreamed that
you would tell me why. Why Raziel created us, his race of Shadowhunters, yet
did not give us the powers Downworlders have—the speed of the wolves, the
immortality of the Fair Folk, the magic of warlocks, even the endurance of
vampires. He left us naked before the hosts of hell but for these painted lines
on our skin. Why should their powers be greater than ours? Why can't we share
in what they have? How is that just?"
Within its imprisoning star the angel sat silent as a marble statue, unmoving,
its wings folded. Its eyes expressed nothing beyond a terrible silent sorrow.
Valentine's mouth twisted. "Very well. Keep your silence. I will have my
chance." Valentine lifted the blade. "I have the Mortal Cup, Ithuriel, and soon
I shall have the Sword—but without the Mirror I cannot begin the summoning. The
Mirror is all I need. Tell me where it is. Tell me where it is, Ithuriel, and I
will let you die."
The scene broke apart in fragments, and as her vision faded, Clary caught
glimpses of images now familiar to her from her own nightmares—angels with
wings both white and black; sheets of mirrored water, gold and blood; Jace and
Jonathan side by side winged angel's, one gold and light the other obsidian and
darkness. Clary reached out for them, and for the first time the angel's voice
spoke in her head in words that she could understand.
These are not the first dreams I have ever showed you.
The image of a rune burst behind her eyes, like fireworks—not a rune she had
ever seen before; it was as strong, simple, and straightforward as a tied knot.
It was gone in a breath as well, and as it vanished, the angel's singing
ceased. Clary was back in her own body, reeling on her feet in the filthy and
reeking room. The angel was silent, frozen, wings folded, a grieving effigy.
Clary let out her breath in a sob. "Ithuriel." She reached her hands out to the
angel, knowing she couldn't pass the runes, her heart aching. For years the
angel had been down here, sitting silent and alone in the blackness, chained
and starving but unable to die….
Jace was beside her. She could see from his stricken face that he'd seen
everything she had. He looked down at the seraph blade in his hand and then
back at the angel. Its blind face was turned toward them in silent
supplication.
Jace took a step forward, and then another. His eyes were fixed on the angel,
and it was as if, Clary thought, there were some silent communication passing
between them, some speech she couldn't hear. Jace's eyes were bright as gold
disks, full of reflected light.
"Ithuriel," he whispered.
The blade in his hand blazed up like a torch. Its glow was blinding. The angel
raised its face, as if the light were visible to its blind eyes. It reached out
its hands, the chains that bound its wrists rattling like harsh music.
Jace turned to her. "Clary," he said. "The runes."
The runes. For a moment she stared at him, puzzled, but his eyes urged her
onward. She handed Jace the witchlight, took Jonathan''s stele from her pocket,
and knelt down by the scrawled runes. They looked as if they'd been gouged into
the stone with something sharp.
She glanced up at Jace. His expression startled her, the blaze in his eyes—they
were full of faith in her, of confidence in her abilities. With the tip of the
stele she traced several lines into the floor, changing the runes of binding to
runes of release, imprisonment to openness. They flared up as she traced them,
as if she were dragging a match tip across sulphur.
Done, she rose to her feet. The runes shimmered before her. Abruptly Jace moved
to stand beside her. The witchlight stone was gone, the only illumination
coming from the seraph blade that he'd named for the angel, blazing in his
hand. He stretched it out, and this time his hand passed through the barrier of
the runes as if there were nothing there.
The angel reached its hands up and took the blade from him. It shut its blind
eyes, and Clary thought for a moment that it smiled. It turned the blade in its
grasp until the sharp tip rested just below its breastbone. Clary gave a little
gasp and moved forward, but Jace grabbed her arm, his grip like iron, and
yanked her backward—just as the angel drove the blade home.
The angel's head fell back, its hands dropping from the hilt, which protruded
from just where its heart would be—if angels had hearts; Clary didn't know.
Flames burst from the wound, spreading outward from the blade. The angel's body
shimmered into white flame, the chains on its wrists burning scarlet, like iron
left too long in a fire. Clary thought of medieval paintings of saints consumed
in the blaze of holy ecstasy—and the angel's wings flew wide and white before
they, too, caught and blazed up, a lattice of shimmering fire.
Clary could no longer watch. She turned and buried her face in Jace's shoulder.
His arm came around her, his grip tight and hard. "It's all right," he said
into her hair, "it's all right," but the air was full of smoke and the ground
felt like it was rocking under her feet. It was only when Jace stumbled that
she realized it wasn't shock: The ground was moving. She let go of Jace and
staggered; the stones underfoot were grinding together, and a thin rain of dirt
was sifting down from the ceiling. The angel was a pillar of smoke; the runes
around it glowed painfully bright. Clary stared at them, decoding their
meaning, and then looked wildly at Jace. "The manor—it was tied to Ithuriel. If
the angel dies, the manor—"
———————————————
A/N: End except taken from City of Glass by Cassandra Clare, chapter 9:This
Guilty Blood
———————————————
"CLARY!" she never finished her sentence. The ground began to shake beneath
them and after the flash of light Jonathan was racing down the stairs the pain
he felt being near the cellar nothing compared to the possibility of failing to
protect his sister again.
He met them half way as they scrambled to escape the crumbling manor. With no
time for words, nor a moment to lose he picked Clary up as she stumbled over a
step and in no time they were bursting back into the library with the stairs
collapsing just as they made it out. Both men kept up their momentum Jace
grabbed a chair and threw it through the library window and it shattered on
impact. Jonathan huddled through carrying Clary as the glass scraped his arms
and face, while Jace followed close behind.
With the sound of ruin at their backs the two shadowhunter hybrids ran as if
their lives depended on it, finding their legs moving faster than ever before
they reached the lake that had seemed so far away from the library window
before collapsing. Jonathan atop Clary, shielding her from any debris that may
reach them. After a few moments the realized they were in the clear. "I think I
dropped your stele somewhere Jon." Clary squeaked from beneath him. He rolled
off of her and pulled them both to their knees facing one another as he checked
her for injuries.
"I don't care about that stupid stick of Adamus, are you OK? God I don't know
what I would do if anything happened to you." He ran his hands over her arms
before cupping them around her face. She gave him a slight smile and he relaxed
a little beneath her gaze, before she was ripped from his arms.
Jace pulled her behind himself roughly his fingers harsh and restricting as
they dug into her skin. Anger blazed in his eyes as he leveled them at
Jonathan, but behind them one could see the barest twinge of fear. Now knowing
what exactly Valentine did to his first born, Jace could only imagine the
cruelties he was capable of, and he'd let him near Clary over his cold dead
body. "Touch her again and I will cut you down where you stand like the monster
you are." Jace pulled a knife from his belt and pointed it at Jonathan who held
his hands in mock surrender. His posture was entirely relaxed as he looked from
the knife to Jace then further on to Clary. He let out a barely detectable
snarl when he saw how tightly Jace was gripping her arm.
"I'm not the one hurting her right now am I?" He slowly lowered his hands back
to his sides as he advanced on the reluctant pair. "What exactly did you find
down there that suddenly has you so up in arms? I thought, that we had an
arrangement." Jace made a lateral movement turning Jonathan's advance into a
predatory circle. Both warriors keeping their distance from the other, and Jace
dragging Clary away from Jonathan much to his dismay.
"Sorry I don't make deals with demons."
"Oh how cruel of you to say brother, and here I thought we were just starting
to get along." He turned his attention to Clary then, "And you sweet sister,
what did you learn of me on you impromptu secret staircase adventure?"
"Nothing that I didn't already know." Her words caused both males to pause. She
wretched her arm or of Jace's grip and set herself equally between them before
she continued."Valentine told me after you first brought me to him. He
explained to me how each of us are different from regular shadowhunters. It
didn't really mean anything to me then, considering Valentine then turned
around and used that same justification to rape me—" Clary's voice choked up a
bit on the words, and when she continued her speech was noticeably softer, "I
figured he was the real monster for what he did to all of us, and so far you
haven't done anything to prove me wrong." Clary took a steep towards Jonathan
and the tension left his body once more she mirrored his gesture from earlier
and held his face in her hands while looking him in the eyes. She was struck by
the differences spread between them as she drowned in his obsidian gaze,
"Please Jon, don't prove me wrong." His eyes softened at the nickname and she
couldn't tell if his eyes took on a forest green color, or if they were just
reflecting the forest.
She didn't get the chance to ask however as she was pulled away from Jonathan
once again, only this time not by Jace. A team of Shadowhunters descended upon
them, all three too caught up in current revelations to sense the ambush. With
them being caught off guard and out numbered ten to one the fight was over
before it had even begun and all three were restrained and pressed to the
ground as a figure emerged from the shadows. "How touching, so nice to see my
children getting along. I must however choose to question your choice of venue
as is."
Jonathan was the first to speak up "I'm sorry father I take full responsibility
of the situation, Clarissa was feeling restless so Jace and I decided to give
her a tour of the countryside."
"I am sorry, but you seem to be under the impression that you had the authority
to make that decision. I gave you all permission to roam the estate, not all of
Idris." Valentine was faintly amused by his offspring's antics, the mock
confusion and sarcasm was heard easily in his tone, but his patience was
wearing thin.
Jace choose to respond this time, following similarly to Jonathan's deny
everything routine. "That one happens to be my fault, I was trying to get a
second alone with Clary and suggested we take a leisurely turn about the
gardens.
"Really? Is that the best lie you can come up with?" He looked off towards
where the smoldering remains if Wayland manor lay then turned back to them.
"Someone please tell me how a leisurely afternoon stroll ends five miles away
next to your brothers destroyed childhood home?" Valentine was at his wit's end
with teenagers. How mundanes managed them was beyond his knowledge.
It was Clary who answered this time, "That would be my fault I'm afraid. I've
been known to attract things like chaos, destruction, and the occasional
explosion; an unfortunate side effect of being an inhuman experiment, but you
would know all about that wouldn't you." There were thirty expertly trained and
fully equipped shadow hunters surrounding them and Clary couldn't imagine that
they all knew everything about Valentine's experiments, especially not the part
about having an angel chained up in his basement.
For half a second his face blanched and contorted in obvious anger, it was gone
in an instant but Clary had already seen his fear 'jackpot' she thought to
herself as Valentine attempted to smooth his features into indifference. "Come
now Clarissa, this isn't new information for any of you so if you wish to
discuss this, we can do it as a family later." Before anyone could say other
word on the matter. Valentine made a gesture in the air, similar to the motions
of a warlock and the three teenagers fell unconscious in their awaiting
captor's arms.
———————————————
Valentine has for the second time found himself at a loss when it comes to
parenting. Honestly why must guys daughter insist upon causing trouble
everywhere she goes. Jonathan and Jace used to follow his orders perfectly and
without question.
Now it seems that they follow hers...
The males in question were currently locked in their respective bedrooms having
already received their lashes for the infraction. Now Valentine finds himself
pondering the nights events in his private study that adjoins the lab his
daughter is currently confined to. Unlike her brothers Clarissa didn't grow up
with his disciplinary system and would respond differently to his usual method
of whipping the skin off her back and locking her in a room til she's in a more
cooperative mood...meaning that that plan is the least likely to get her
anywhere reassembling cooperative. Valentine paced in his office as he pondered
his options.
Primarily there's the option of simply talking to her and hoping for the best,
but even as he considered to consider this he knew it was a lofty aspiration.
He rolled up the sleeves of his collard shirt and walked over to the cabinet
that contained some of his more subtle interrogation tools to help him
visualize his options.
The contents of the cabinet ranged from books and journals to mundane drugs and
fey concoctions. It was the latter group he found himself investigating at the
moment. Valentine knew his goal was to assert his authority over her and make
it stick. He couldn't have his two best weapons chasing after her instead of
obeying his every command, but he needed to find a way to control her without
ruining his new favorite toy. He set his hand on a swirling silver vial. The
mundane drugs were too risky to any potential pregnancy, he decided.
Valentine took a syringe of the concoction and made his way to the lab. Turning
the knob and walking into the room he pretended to be oblivious of her
presence.
Clarissa was strapped to an examination chair completely unable to move, that
isn't to say that she didn't try however. Valentine glanced at her from the
corner of his eye and saw her body vibrating with the effort to establish her
presence. The leather band over her mouth muffling the probable obscenities
spewing from it. Every inch of her gave off an aura of righteous fury and
Valentine found himself very aroused at the sight of her completely at his
mercy, but he needed patience to break her.
He pretended to survey the room. It was fairly small compared to his office
with only a few pieces of furniture in it and a simple stone bench attached to
the far wall to act as a cot for prisoners. The wall to his right contained an
array of shackles that he ran his hands over, eliciting a particularly violent
response from Clarissa. The other two walls were bare save the door he entered
from, as that the room was essentially a replica of one of the cells in the
dungeon with the inclusion of the examination chair, where his daughter
currently resided, in the middle of the room and the stool beside it.
Having enough with admiring from afar Valentine finally turned to face her.
Their eyes meet for a moment and her fiery hatred meet his cool indifference.
Clary had spent her time trying not to think of her current situation and what
she needs to get out of it. The first thing on her mind was Jace, and the
second was her brother. She needed to know what Valentine did to them, and if
they're safe.
When Valentine walked in she realized that that last part is fairly relative
considering none of them are really safe so long as this remorseless maniac is
in charge.
Clary followed him with her eyes as he made his approach.
"Quite the exciting night you've had," He began as he made his way closer to
her, "Now Jonathan and Jace wouldn't tell me anything, and you have to
understand that as a father I find that rather upsetting." He finally sat down
in the still beside her and his proximity did nothing to abate Clary's nervous
fidgeting. He reached over to her and wrapped one of her stray curls around his
fingers, playing with her hair as he continued to speak despite her obvious
discomfort. "It's always so disappointing when your children don't listen to
you, after everything I only want what is best for them. Is that so wrong
Clarissa? To want to build a better world for my offspring."
Clarissa responded with a rather unladylike phrase, presumably as the gag only
letting out muffled vibrations. Valentine continued on as if she stayed silent.
"I try not to ask too much of you children, but one can assume that loyalty is
a reasonable enough request. Is it not? Clearly you must not think so daughter,
since your brothers follow you around like lost puppies. Tell me, what is it
about yourself that has the two greatest shadowhunters ever trained
so...enchanted" His hand left her hair and caressed the side of her face, Clary
tried to flinch away from his touch but was again faced with her confinement.
"Oh how forgetful of me, you can't answer with that thing over your mouth." He
reached across her to remove the restricting leather band then sat back in his
chair.
The removal of that band allowed Clary a bit more mobility, particularly the
ability to turn her head away from her father. She seemed determined not to
acknowledge him, and Valentine was feed up with his children's flagrant
disobedience. "Clarissa I'm only going to ask you this two times, and hopefully
you'll answer the first," He got up and walked around the seat to face her,
keeping the silver vial and syringe in clear view to deliver his threat.
"Because I'd hate to have to use this on you. What were the three of you
children looking for at Wayland Manor?"
"What is that stuff?" Her eyes flickered from the vial to her father, confusion
and apprehension written on her features.
"A truth serum of sorts would be the easiest way to describe it, but it's a
mixture of fairy blood and water from Lake Lynn. It lowers the victims
inhibitions and makes them much more compliant as well as more likely to tell
the truth. So either you can tell me what the three of you were doing of your
own free will, or I could give you a shot of this and you'll tell me what you
were doing of your own free will." Clary's look of confusion made way for one
of abject horror at what her father just said.
"You are sick!"
"And you are beginning to wearing out my patience Clarissa. Answer the
question."
Clary was terrified, but she couldn't let it show. She had to tell Valentine
something otherwise he'd force her to tell him everything, but what could she
possibly tell him that wouldn't reveal their plans? Valentine seemed to have
enough of her silence and began prepping the injection spurring a response from
Clary, "We were just out for a walk! I told you the truth before please just
let me go!"
Valentine proceeded with false indifference, he sat back down on the stool by
her head before asking again. "Clarissa I'm doing you a favor here, I'm giving
you the opportunity to make the right decision for yourself." He brushed his
hand along the column of her neck to push her hair out of the way from the
injection site. Then his hand lingered cradling her head, he turned her to face
him, and brought his other hand up to place the syringe on her neck before
asking again. "Last chance Angel, please just tell me the truth." He could see
tears running down her cheeks and the needle scraped her neck leaving a small
trail of blood as she cooked back sobs. Clary knew she had to tell him
something now, or risk losing a lot more down the line, but her voice still
shook when she began speaking.
"OK, OK. You're right we were there for a reason. I'd been hearing a voice in
my head ever since I found out about the shadow world, pulling me towards
Wayland Manor. It was the angle Ithuriel crying out for help." She figured
Valentine must have been the one to tie the angel's life force to the manor,
Clary decided that telling him something he already knows must be the least
damaging truth. Hopefully it's enough. "I didn't tell Jace or Jonathan about
it, just that I needed to get to Wayland manor. Jonathan may have suspected
when we got there, I think the extra angelic presence hurt him, but Jace didn't
know until we were in the cellar- he didn't know until we saw what you did. We
killed the angel then ran, and I believe you know the rest."
When she was finished speaking Valentine relaxed the hand holding the syringe
and began stroking her hair fondly. "Was that really so difficult now my sweet
little Angel? I'm glad you finally told me the truth, but I just have one more
question to ask." He leaned across her body and pressed his lips to her cheek,
he placed a light kiss there before sliding then down to whisper in her ear
"Did you really think I would take anymore chances by believing you?" His grip
on her hair tightens as her jamms the almost forgotten syringe into her neck,
and Clary screams.
Valentine covered her lips with his own as the fey concoction began to pump
through her veins. He could feel her heart racing against his chest trying to
reject the poison, and failing. All the while he kissed her through her
screams, hands fisting in her hair as he lay half on top of her, and waiting
until her heart beat slowed down to indicate that the serum has taken effect.
Clary felt like her blood was boiling her from the inside as the injection
rushed through her veins. She couldn't move, breathe, or think as the was
suffocating beneath her father. With his bonds holding her in place and his
poison violating her insides, he took advantage of her inability to fight back
and ravaged her mouth. She tried to push him off off her but the double assault
was taking its toll.
Clary could feel the strength draining out of her body as the injection made
its way through he blood stream fighting for dominance...and winning. He mind
began to cloud and her sense of self was scattered to the furthest reaches of
her brain. Her thoughts scrambled before they could form and the only thing she
could focus on was the sensation of someone's lips moving over her own. Her
head felt heavy and she let it fall back into the hand clutching at her hair,
she couldn't think of any reason not to.
She couldn't think of anything actually, just that what was currently being
done to her felt good. A small voice in the back of her head tried to say 'no
it doesn't', but every bit of tension had already left her body and Clary felt
at peace. She couldn't understand how that could be wrong—
Valentine felt her lips begin to respond to his own and knew that she was now
perfectly under his control, he pulled away from her delighted by the small
moan of disapproval she let out. "Now that that unpleasantness is out of the
way, would you like for me to untie you?" He posed the question then watched as
she tried to think of a response.
Clary was just now taking note of her bindings, up until then it didn't seem
like she had a reason to care whether or not she could move, but now it seems
like an oversight. "Yes please, that would be very beneficial." Valentine
smiled to himself as he undid the leather straps, and helped her out of the
chair. She stumbled and leaned against him when he placed her on her feet and
Valentine took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, placing one hand on
the small of her back and the other on her upper arm.
"Careful now Clarissa I would hate to see you over exert yourself, in fact why
don't we have a seat in my office."
"Yes that sounds nice." Valentine led her through the door back into his office
and sat her down in one of the two guest chairs in front of his desk. Instead
of sitting down in a chair himself he casually leaned against the desk directly
in front of Clary before addressing her again.
"Now if you're feeling up for it Clarissa I just have a few questions for you."
"I feel perfectly fine, and I'm happy to help in any way I can Father." The
strange thing was that Clary wasn't lying, she really did feel fine. There was
still a strange fog in the back of her mind but the more Valentine spoke the
more clarity she got, and the less important the voice seemed to her...
"I'm glad to hear that, now what where you and your brothers doing in Wayland
Manor?"
"We were looking for your journals—" her response was immediate, but the clouds
seemed especially dense around the reason she was looking for them. "I think
Jonathan said that we needed to know as much about ourselves as you did about
us...That's all I can remember, was it helpful?" The grin that split
Valentine's face was almost inhuman, he was clearly very pleased with the
knowledge that his children still had no real plan to defeat him. 'So long as
they're still gathering information I can still control their actions, and I
can't imagine they'd learn anything useful from those journals'
Valentine dismissed his plotting children as a reputable threat to his own
plans and returned his attention to his newly strung puppet. "That was very
helpful my sweet little Angel, thank you for telling me." He smiled down at her
as a plan for the night started to take shape in his mind. His hand reached
down to brush away a stray lock of hair that fell over her eye when she looked
up to meet his gaze. His hand remained on her cheek as he made his next
statement, "In fact I think you deserve a reward for tonight,"
As the words left his mouth Valentine was already leaning his head down to seal
his lips against her own, and like before, she began to kiss him back.
Valentine groaned at her automatic response and pulled Clary out of her seat,
only to spin around and sit her on his desk.
Clary was quick to respond to her new position, wrapping her legs around
Valentine's waist pulling him closer to her. While he was very tempted to
simply lay her out on his desk and have at it, he had better more rewarding
things in mind, and with that thought he pulled away from her and sat in the
chair she just vacated.
Clary was flushed, confused, and out of breath from the suddenness with which
Valentine pulled away from her. She reached towards him attempting to
reestablish their connection but he grabbed her arm by the wrist and kept her
at a distance. "Not so fast Angel, we will continue but first I need you to
undress yourself for me." He rolled her arm over in his grip and left a kiss on
the inside of her palm before letting her go. "Can you do that for me Angel?"
"Yes, of course Father. Anything." Clary was quick to toe off her shoes and
socks while she was still on the desk after that she seemed at an impasse for
what to take off next, and a small voice in the back of her head kept screaming
that she shouldn't be doing this. Valentine was quick to see her falter and
decided to give her a few suggestions.
"Take off your shirt first sweetheart." His words quelled the small voice in
her head and she was quick to follow his orders reaching down to pull her shirt
over her head while Valentine admired the newly exposed flesh. She didn't need
prompting to take off her jeans and soon enough she was standing in front of
her father in a pair of lace boxer shorts and an emerald green bralette. When
she picked them that morning she was just looking for the most normal underwear
she could find. Now it seems as if it wouldn't have made a difference either
way, Valentine was staring at her like a present wrapped especially for him.
"Almost done Clarissa. Though I do like that you've made use of the clothing I
got for you I'd much prefer to see you without anything on right now."
Clary flushed at his words but still obeyed him, her delicate breasts bounced
free as she pulled the bralette over her head then grabbed her panties and bent
down pulling them off her legs. When she straightened up the voice returned,
telling her to cover herself. Telling her to run, she pulled her arms up to her
chest but Valentine seemed displeased with that so instead she stood still with
her cheeks flushed, her head down, and her arms resting at her sides while
Valentine inspected her.
"Beautiful. You are absolutely breathtaking my own fallen angel presenting
herself to me in her natural glory." His eyes raked over her chest and followed
her freckles around her body. He could still see some of the bruises from the
last time he'd fucked her, but they'd healed for the most part leaving her body
as unblemished and angelic as before. "Would you turn for me Angel, I want to
see all of you."
"Anything to please you father." The voice was now more of a distant ringing in
her head but his direct order had the same effect as before clouding her mind
to anything but what he was telling her, as she turned around Valentine was
finding it harder to keep his composure, luckily he didn't have to for much
longer.
"Now bend over and place your hands on the desk sweetheart." Clary did so and
Valentine admired the uninhibited view of her wet cunt. He began undressing
himself as she stood there bent over the table waiting for his next order, and
knowing he was watching her. He popped each button out of its hole then pulled
his shirt off by the collar. Bending over he kept his eyes on her cunt watching
it quiver with Clary's nervous energy as he took of his shoes.
When he stood to walk towards her she was practically panting with
anticipation, and he was quick to pull down his pants and grind his own
excitement into her and she moaned at the sudden contact.
Without his words the potion made it seem as though her world began and ended
at where he touched her, and she was so eager to please. She tried to grind
back against him, dying for any kind of friction, but he pulled away to remove
his pants completely. Not knowing that she whined her displeasure but that
quickly changed when she felt the smooth velvet flesh of his hard cock against
her slick folds. "Ahhhh!" The cry rushed from her lips at the direct contact,
Clary felt as if her entire being was melting into his, she could feel his
arousal against her own and it felt like she was being consumed by his desire
for her body. "Please, more please give me more!"
Valentine leaned down against her back hands gliding up her sides and groping
the soft flesh as he went. "How much more angel? This is supposed to be your
reward after all." The low growl of his voice vibrated against her neck further
reducing Clary to a wanton moaning mess. "Oh, now don't fall apart so easily on
me. Tell me what you want? Tell me everything you want me to do to you."
Valentine slid his right had back down her body and thrust two fingers into her
pulling more euphoric cries from Clary, but pleasing as they were to hear
Valentine wanted her words.
He stilled his fingers inside of her and bent forward, pressing his naked chest
against her back before whispering in her ear. "What do you want me to do to
you?"
"Please..." Her body was so strained and stimulated one word was all she could
muster, but it wasn't good enough.
"I asked a simple question Clarissa. If you can't tell me what you want for
your reward, then perhaps you deserve a punishment." He curled his fingers
inside of her and ground his eager cock into her ass harder before continuing,
"A shame really I already had something rather enjoyable already prepared for
you."
"THAT! Oh please daddy give it to me!" Clary was pent up, frustrated, and
aroused beyond all logical thought as she begged her father to fuck her but
Valentine wasn't done teasing her yet.
"You'll have to be more specific than that angel."
"Your cock! I need your cock, please oh please give it to me daddy!"
He chuckled darkly and nipped at her ear with his teeth then growled in her
ear, "This isn't enough? Well then what do you want me to do to you with it?"
"Fuck me!" Clary's breath was coming in short pants, Valentine had been holding
her just on the edge of orgasm and she was ready to jump.
Finally hearing what he wanted Valentine was more than willing to comply, he
pulled his fingers out of her now dripping cunt and used his hand to place the
tip of his cock at her entrance. Poised and ready to penetrate he straightened
himself up and took another look at the angel bent over his desk with her legs
spread and thighs soaked with her own precum. "All you had to do was ask"
Valentine took his time and slowly impaled her on his rigid dick. Watching as
each inch stretched her tight little cunt.
Clary had been prepared for fast forceful penetration, and his slow methodical
insertion was driving her mad. She felt simultaneously stretched and empty as
he held his cock back from bottoming out inside of her. She squeezed at him
with her inner muscles trying to pull him further inside of her but he held
himself to his languid pace.
For both of them it felt like forever before his hip bones meet her ass and
when it did Clary was a mess. His insertion gave her no relief instead winding
her up tighter with anticipation and frustration. Her fingernails dug into the
word of the desk as she held onto the edge to give herself leverage to thrust
her hips back trying to force his cock even deeper inside of her.
"Is this what you wanted Angel?" Valentine asked as Clary was practically
vibrating on his cock, releasing soft moans from the back of her throat. He
could hear little no's between choked sobs as she tried to get him to move.
"Well then if that isn't what you wanted you'll just have to show me." He
pulled out of her ten times faster than he'd entered her and the friction sent
a chill up Clary's spine.
She turned around immediately, confused and displeased by this turn of events,
but it all seemed more clear when she saw him sitting in the chair he'd vacated
what seemed like eons ago completely naked with his cock standing at attention.
She stepped towards him understanding what he was asking and the closer she got
the more she could see a faint shine on it that must be her natural juices. She
spread her thighs and straddled her father's lap.
Valentine was at a loss for words as she wrapped one arm around his neck and
used her other hand to guide his cock back inside of her. Despite all the
teasing he was floored by the sight of Clarissa willingly sinking down onto his
cock.
She placed the hand that had guided his dick on his shoulder as this position
pulled him deeper inside of her than when he had her bent over on his desk.
Despite wanting to screw herself senseless on his cock Clary took things slow,
feeling awkward on top unsure of how to move herself.
Valentine sensing her confusion placed his hands on her hips and rolled hers
against him before picking her up and slamming her back down on his cock. "Just
like that angel, do you think you can do that?" Clary whimpered an affirmative
reply and was quickly enraptured with the task of furiously impaling herself on
his dick. She used her grip on his shoulders as leverage and got lost in the
task as well as the feeling of him pressing deeper and deeper inside of her.
His grip on her hips migrated up one stopping to cup her breast as they bounced
in time to her frantic thrusts, the other continuing up to tangle in her hair.
The copper locks never looked more like writhing heavenly fire than they did in
this moment, Clary was luminescent. He used his hand to hold her head in place
as he captured her mouth in a kiss. His lips didn't rest their long he left a
trail of kisses starting from the corner of her mouth and leading down her jaw.
Clary tilted her head back to give him more access as she became lost in the
dual sensations, a symphony of moans escaping her lips melded with the harsh
slapping sound of their thighs meeting as she continued to ride him with
abandon.
Valentine was on fire, burning alive with his desire for the heavenly creature
in his lap and enjoying every second of it. He used his knees to spread her
legs just that little bit extra apart as she came down on him and she screamed
from the deeper stimulation as it pushed her over the edge half collapsing on
top of him as she lost her rhythm to a mind blowing orgasm.
As much as Valentine wanted to draw this out there was little he could do to
hold off with her screaming and moaning in his lap while her cunt pulsed around
his throbbing member. He returned his grip to her hips and used it to force her
helpless body up and down on his cock until he emptied his balls inside her.
When they were finished they simply sat there in post coital bliss as his dick
grew flaccid inside of her. "You did very well Angel, I'm so proud of you"
"I'm glad I was able to please you." Clary's head was buried in his neck and he
could feel her lips moving against his skin as he smiled and replied.
"You did darling, immensely so. Now I think you should go get some rest while I
clean up in here. Head to my room and I'll meet you there in a moment." He
kissed the top of he head and watched as the command did it's work. She
groggily unfolded herself from his lap and when she stood his seamen was
running down her thighs.
"Please don't take too long, I'll be waiting for you." She smiled down at him
and walked out of the room stark naked, and Valentine was too blissed out to
care.
He made short work of picking up their clothing, putting his back on partially
and tucking the rest underneath his arm, then he walked over to the cabinet
from early and picked up another silver vial. It seems Clarissa is going to be
much easier to handle from now on.
***** Lies *****
Chapter Notes
     Heeeeeeeeeyyyyy...sorry? Life kind of slammed me in the face and
     writing took a sideline. For a brief synopsis of what that entailed
     read the comments at the end of the chapter, but if you have no room
     for my excuses I understand and will let you get on with the chapter.
     Hope you enjoy it!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jonathan stood in the shower and watched the blood wash down the drain. The
heat seared the raw flayed open skin of his back, but by now he was so used to
the pain that he barely noticed it.
His blood swirled around the drain, black as pitch.
His most frequent reminder that everything about him is wrong.
That he's an abomination.
Unfixable.
Unnatural.
Unlovable.
Not that he should care. After all demons don't have feelings...
For most of his life that was something he believed, after all why would his
father lie to him? He still remembered that day, and he doubts that he'll ever
forget it, playing in the meadow by the cottage where he grew up and being
dismissed.
He'd finally gotten up the courage to ask about his mother, and Valentine
crushed it, and after that he tried his hardest to crush Jonathan's spirit.
"She left Jonathan, because of you. There's something wrong with you, and
because of that she could never loved you." Jonathan didn't understand what
love had anything to do with her leaving but it seemed reason enough for his
father. Jonathan just wanted his mother to come back and teach him things,
maybe she could fix what's wrong with him and they can move back in with
grandma and grandpa so everyone can be happy again.
Father didn't think so. "You can't be fixed Jonathan, and I'm the only person
who will ever love you." Even though his father kept repeating it Jonathan
still didn't understand what love had to do with anything. 'Maybe that's what
Father wants, I just want everyone to be happy again."
How naive of him to think that. Even before he knew his father murdered his
grandparents and drove his mother away, but then he was alone...So so terribly
alone. Valentine often left him for long stretches of time. The older he got
the longer his father went away.
Sometimes it was a blessing...other times it was torture.
He was six years old the first time his father left for a whole month, and for
that month he was alone, with nothing but the sounds of the night and the light
of his seraph blades to keep him company. At first he was too scared to touch
anything of his father's, but as the days went on he began to care less about
his father's rules, and that is how he learned that he wasn't alone in this
world.
Jonathan had been looking for a book to read to pass the time, without his
father's presence he found little need to stick to Valentine's rigid schedule,
and his father left his door unlocked. It had been a complete accident when he
stumbled upon a black leather bound journal with a name on it
"Jocelyn" His mother's name, maybe this was her book he thought to himself.
Maybe this can tell me why she left.
The book didn't really explain why she left, it was mostly notes taken by his
father about her health. It did tell him one thing he didn't know before,
Jocelyn was pregnant when she left. He had a sister.
She was supposed to be his salvation, instead he wound up dragging her to hell
along side him. The thought chilled him to the bone, more than the cold water
pouring down on him could, and with that thought he shut off the shower and
exited the bathroom.
Of all the things to have gone wrong last night, his sister ending up back in
their father's hands...back in his bed, was the one that upset Jonathan the
most. He knew what Valentinewas capable of, the lengths he's willing to go to
to maintain power in any situation, and there are very few things Clary could
do to distract him all either too disgusting or disturbed to consider...
But Valentine wasn't breaking down his door again to beat him into submission
again for plotting to kill him, so either she didn't tell him anything and he's
busy torturing her for information or she out smarted him and they still have a
chance. A derisive chuckle escaped his lips at the thought, Clary was good but
she's still new to the game maybe one day, but not today.
Another chill passed over him as he dropped his towel and opened the bathroom
door, and the cold was a nice change of pace from the eternal fire of his
forever healing back. The scars have become little more than a nuisance in his
day to day existence and a reminder of his lost humanity, but presently they
serve to remind him of who took it and why Valentine deserves to burn alongside
him for doing so.
All the manner of sins Valentine had his son commit left a stain on both of
their souls, more than enough to turn a heart black three times over and this
were just Jonathan's sins. Demons would blanch at the things Valentine has done
in the name of the angel, and now he's finally going to pay for it, so long as
they can survive till the end of the week to make him...
With that thought Jon grabbed an outfit from the nearest pile of clothing and
prepared to face the consequences of last night.
------------------
Clary woke to the feeling of another needle being pressed into her neck and
tensed, but the injection quickly returned her to a docile relaxed state. The
voice telling her to run in a panicked scream of anguish slowly faded back into
the dark recesses of her drugged mind. An arm snaked around her naked waist and
rolled her over to face the warm body occupying the other half of the bed.
"Good morning Father. How might I serve you today?" A soft chuckle passed over
her ears as Valentine used two fingers to tilt her chin up and force her to
meet his dark gaze. What little was left of her mind was lost in the abyss of
his eyes, and what little defense that had been building crumbled once more.
Valentine felt blood surge through his morning erection at her enticing words
and all the images that came along with them, but unfortunately he had other
plans for today that didn't involve fucking the fiery angel currently encircled
in his arms until she lost her voice screaming his name. "Yes Angel there
actually is something I need you to do for me."
Clarissa was quick to press her body to his and begin kissing a path along his
jaw line thinking he meant sex, and Valentine was finding it very difficult to
correct her. He simply lay there grinning like a maniac as she made a whore of
herself in an effort to please him, dry humping his leg like a dog in heat and
moaning at what little pleasure she got from the friction. When she reached for
his throbbing member was when he knew he had to stop, or risk losing another
day between her thighs. He grabbed her hand halting its progress to give her
more clear orders. "As much as I do enjoy partaking in your body my dear Angel
we have 4 days to plan a wedding and I still need to get you fitted for a dress
"Of course father. I'm happy to serve." Her response was almost robotic as she
got out of the bed and walked to the adjoining bathroom to shower. Valentine
sat up to watch her go, his cum dripping down her thighs and bruises from his
aggressive attention littering her otherwise flawless skin. He'll have to give
her an iratze before she leaves so no one starts asking questions.
"Wait one moment Angel." Clary paused outside the bathroom door and turned back
towards her father. The stele was in his bed side table and he made quick work
of getting it and crossing the room to mark her. Their increased proximity made
it harder for him to remember why exactly he was letting her leave his chambers
but as he watched the bruises fade as the iratze did it's work he was reminded
once more. "You'll make a lovely bride Clarissa."
"Thank you father, I'm glad I please you."
"You're most welcome Clarissa, that will be all for now, but I want you to meet
me in my study again tonight after everyonehas gone to bed." With that
dismissal she returned to her original task leaving Valentine alone in the
room.
The man in question had many things on his agenda for the day, but he decided
to take a few extra minutes to lay out a short black dress and matching
underwear set for Clarissa to wear when she finished her shower, mostly out of
fear that she'd wander the halls nude if he didn't. Though the knowledge that
he'd get to take them off of her later helped..m n.
-----------------
When Clary got back to her room there were four women waiting for her and a
pedestal set up in the middle of the floor with a simple dress pattern on it.
The whole ordeal was fairly uneventful as she didn't have many of her own
opinions to share with the designer, but all of her ideas sounded wonderful to
Clary so the fitting was over relatively quickly.
She sat on her bed after and tried to process her situation again. She couldn't
understand why she felt the need to but the longer she was alone the easier it
was to focus her thoughts. That however, did not last long. There was an
assertive knock on her door that let her know immediately who was on the other
side. "Come in Jonathan."
Jonathan entered the room and shut the door behind him, but stopped short of
coming any closer to Clary. He hovered in the corner, his dark mood practically
swirling around him, he could smell their father all over her and it was
driving him insane. Just when Clary thought he wasn't going to speak he finally
addresses her. "Are you ok?"
"Ok is relative, but it was nothing I couldn't handle." Jonathan's shoulders
sagged in relief, he didn't know what method Valentine used on his daughter but
Jonathan was glad it didn't break her.
"I know you can handle it, you're one of the strongest people I know." He
crossed the room and reached out as if to touch her, his hand hovering close to
her cheek, but he stopped short yet again. The demon blooded boy felt as if he
were too damaged to touch something so pure, but Clary tilted her cheek into
his palm and smiled at him. When she smiled her whole face lit up and
everything was drowned out by the light radiating from her. "But that doesn't
stop me from wanting to protect you..." from all the big bad things in this
world, including himself...especially himself.
Clarissa's smile faltered as she was reminded of what she needed protection
from, or more accurately who. "No one can protect me..." Her sudden mood shift
startled Jonathan and he waited for an explanation while she began to shake in
his arms. "He did something to me Jon, I can't think...it's like there are
clouds in my mind keeping me from remembering, or just forming my own thoughts"
She was sobbing in frustration but the lack of direct orders was helping her
mind clear. Jonathan however was in shock. He knew exactly what their father
did to her and he was astonished Clary was trusting him b with such information
when she was so vulnerable. He could do anything to her right now, and order
her to forget it in the next minute.
"Shhh, it's ok little sister stop crying and we'll figure this out." The words
seemed so harmless Clary barely thought anything of it when her sobs
immediately stopped. "You feel better now don't you?"
She nodded her head and relaxed in his arms as the little clarity she'd gained
ebbed away and her consciousness screamed at her to try and hold on, to tell
Jonathan that what he's doing isn't helping. She still didn't realize that he
wasn't trying to help.
The demon boy was experiencing a great inner turmoil. He could take Clarissa
completely for his own right now with almost no consequence to himself, but
that would make him no better than Valentine. All his life he never cared
whether or not he was a good person, but right now he found himself caring
whether or not this hurt Clarissa. "Tell me exactly what happened." He lightly
stroked her arm and waited for her to speak.
"I woke up and I was tied to a chair in one of father's labs. I was there for
an hour or so alone before he came in." She began reciting the events of the
previous night almost robotically remembering every little detail as if she
were reliving it, when she got to the part where Valentine kissed her she
choked on the words. Jonathan held her tighter and brought her back over to the
bed to sit down. They sat there facing each other as Clary tried to get the
words out, but Jonathan had another suggestion.
"If it's too hard to say it, why don't you show me what happened?"
"Show you how?"
"Pretend I'm him and show me what happened next." The direct order took effect
immediately much to Clary's dismay and Jonathan's delight. She wrapped her arms
around his neck and brought their lips together in a bruising kiss then used
the leverage to drag his body on top of hers.
Jonathan was in heaven, pressing his body as close to hers as he could get,
this was everything hed imagined and more, far beyond just holding and
comforting her as a brother should. He could feel her heart beating in time
with his and couldn't imagine ever not being this close to her at all times,
his skin was set aflame wherever she touched him and his whole being felt as if
she were sharing her light with his dark heart.
This is what he'd always imagined being truly alive would feel like...except it
wasn't real.
'It could be.' He thought to himself. It could be so easy for him to let go of
the fact that Clarissa isn't willingly making these decisions. If he could just
let himself be the monster his father made him into he could have everything
he's ever wanted willingly in the palm of his hand...Clary seemed to chose this
moment to step back from Jonathan, and the demon boy sighed in relief that he
wouldn't have to make that decision, until he saw what she was really doing and
his breath caught in his throat. Clarissa was rather unceremoniously striping
herself naked and Jonathan had to take a moment to remember how to breathe
before he reminded himself that this wasn't real, and when Clarissa finally
agrees to be his he needs it to be real."Stop."
His harsh, almost angry tone caused Clarissa to jerk away from him and Jonathan
is quick to soften his demeanor so as not to frighten the drugged girl. "Please
just put your clothes back on. I want to help you." He see's clary visibly
relax at his words, the subtle tension that she had been holding throughout her
body trying to fight the effects of the concoction melted away. She was quick
to put her clothes back on as Jonathan took a moment to collect himself, and
when he finally did they sat in an awkward silence as far away from each other
as Clary's king sized bed would allow.
"How do you get this stuff out of me?" Clary broke their silence when she
finally came back to herself. She held her arms around her body tightly as if
that would keep it from betraying her once more. THis was going to be the straw
that broke her, and that fact made Jonathan feel horrible for taking advantage
of her vulnerability.
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do except wait it out. It has to work
it's way through your system naturally."
"Why are you sorry, you aren't the one who did this to me."
"Not directly, but I took advantage of you." Clary blushed as she recalled
their recent entanglement, but she still believed it to be an honest mistake.
"You couldn't have known." Oh how wrong she was. Jonathan had been planning to
fuck her raw, then order her to forget about it, and he was still searching for
the strength to not go through with that plan.
"And you can't keep defending everyone, we're not all as inherently good as you
and Angel boy." And he hated himself for it. How could he even hope to look
upon her as one so unworthy. Jonathan turned away from her worth downcast eyes
in shame. Afraid she would look into them and see nothingness staring back at
her.
"I'm not a perfect as you like to imagine Jon." She placed her hand on his chin
and lifted his face so she could look into his eyes. "We all have darkness
inside of us." The words lit a fire in her eyes that burned through Jonathan
and he felt his heart stop.
For a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the world, as they
were entrapped in each other's gaze. "Will you stay with me?" She asked him
breaking their silence.
"I'm not sure that's the best idea." He replied as hismind began to wander to
all of the things that could happenif he did.
"Please Jon. I need you." Neither of them wanted her to wind up back in their
father's bed with another needle in her neck. So Jonathan stayed.
Hee wrapped his arms around her and they lay together in companionable silence
and ignored the world around them. He stayed with her all night holding her
tighter when she tried to leave, and tighter still when She began to shake with
withdrawals as the drug began to lose its hold on her.
-----------------
The next morning Jonathan stood in the shower and watched the blood wash down
the drain. The heat seared the raw flayed open skin of his back, but by now he
was so used to the pain that he barely noticed it.
His blood as it swirled down the drain was what held his focus, today it was
red.
A dark burgundy shade, but red nevertheless. He knew that Clarissa's presence
always made him feel better, but he'd never imagined that it worked to this
effect.
She was actually curing him.
He thought back to when he was younger, growing up being told he was wrong,
that he was damned and no one could fix him.
He thought back to the first lie his father ever told him, 'I'm the only one
that could ever love you Jonathan.' It was a cruel thing to say to a child, but
now he realized that Valentine was wrong then.
And maybe he's wrong now. Looking at the red blood flowing down the drain,
Jonathan dared to hope for the first time in his life. Maybe, just maybe "Maybe
I can be saved..."
Chapter End Notes
     1. Yes it's short, and an interlude, and mostly filler but not
     everything that need to be written is a game changer.
     2. So yeah life...I've gone through three guys (one long term since
     high school, two rebounds, all bad decisions). Started two jobs quit
     one off them. And finally I just moved into my first apartment to
     start my junior year of college (credit wise anyway).
     Now I'm back and that's all that matters. I'm now on two different
     planning committees however, and I just got a board position for a
     new organization on my campus so I'm still going to be swamped, but
     I've given myself a deadline. I will have this story done by the end
     of this year, because I'm trying to get serious about pursuing
     writing as maybe a little more than a hobby.
     Anywhore, that's all I have for you right now so until next time
     darlings...
***** Promises *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The Morgenstern family sat at the breakfast table in awkward silence. Both of
Valentine's sons, adopted and biological, sat on either side of their sister
looking for all intents and purposes like well trained attack dogs as they
glared across the table at their mutual enemy.
The father of the year was doing his best to maintain composure and not pout at
his children's obvious attempt to close ranks. He had been concerned when
Clarissa didn't show up last night and his mood did not improve when he arrived
to breakfast to see that his sons have decided to be her new bodyguards. The
meal progressed in an awkward silence, the only sounds being the silverware
scraping against their plates, and Valentine's mood continued to darken the
longer they held out. When even the scrapping of silverware stopped and it
seemed there was no longer a reason for any of them to be there was when
someone finally spoke.
"Will you be taking your coffee here or in the study today sir?" A servant
appeared out of nowhere to the surprise of the elite warriors in the room, but
to their credit the tension of the silence was keeping everyone on edge.
"The Study, and make it two, Clarissa and I have things to discuss before
Saturday's ceremony." The servant muttered a petrified affirmative and scurried
back to the kitchen. Both of his sons were visibly disturbed at the thought of
Clary being alone with him, but they managed to keep their heads on with the
only indication of their discomfort being how strongly they each gripped Clary
beneath the table.
She placed her hands over theirs and gave each a light squeeze for reassurance
before addressing their father. "If we're going to discuss the wedding don't
you think Jace should be a part of it as well?"
"Wonderful as I think it is that you're starting to take this seriously, no
Jace cannot join us." He turned to address Jace before continuing, "Your
training was quite lax under the Lightwood's supervision, you will spend the
day with Jonathan in the training room catching up."
None of them liked the idea of being separated but they couldn't risk arguing,
lest Valentine decides they'd all be better off as puppets. "Of course Father,
we understand." Clary stated for the three of them.
Valentine smirked at their sudden compliance believing that he's finally won.
"Excellent." He said as he stood up from the table to leave. "Now off with you
boys, and Clarissa follow me." The three gave each other reassuring glances
before Clarissa stood to follow the devil into Hell leaving the two love struck
fools behind powerless to do anything about it.
---------------------×---------------------
Clary stood in the center of the room as Valentine locked the door behind him.
"Please do make yourself comfortable," he said as he turned away from the door
to see Clarissa standing petrified before him.
She faltered for a minute searching for the courage to continue, her left hand
fiddled with a stele Jonathan had slipped her this morning after they woke up,
it was a small comfort in this situation. Braced by the heavenly metal in her
pocket she proceed to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite her father's
desk.
Instead of sitting down immediately Valentine walked over to his supply cabinet
and grabbed another silver vial and syringe before making his was over to his
desk. When her sat down he placed the objects in the middle of the desk between
the two of them, a silent threat, but a threat nonetheless that made all the
blood wash out of Clary's face. "Please don't." The words were a small shaken
plea for all that they burst from her lungs. The false bravado melting away at
the thought of being Valentine's mindless sex doll once more.
Luckily for her this seemed to be exactly the reaction Valentine was looking
for as a smirk cracked his features and a low chuckle escaped the narrow part
in his lips as he mocked her weakness. "Now I'm afraid that might not be in our
best interest Angel. You disappointed me immensely when I didn't see you last
night." His hand reached for the syringe and drew a dose from the vial then
proceeded to play with it as if it were a toy, watching her watch it as he
twirled it between his fingers.
"I'm sorry..." He voice was soft as she braced herself to continue, pulling her
hand out of her pocket and focusing all her attention carefully choosing her
next words. "I was scared, and confused...please don't be mad at me." She sat
there stock still with a straight face locking to most as if nothing could
shake her, but anyone who knew her would see the way her fingernails dug into
the arms of her chair, and when she looked up at him and tried to mask the true
terror she felt at the thought of him turning her back into his personal puppet
her eyes glazed over with tears she refused to let show.
To Clary's credit Valentine was blind to the depth of her internal strife, but
he still saw enough to know that he had the higher ground in this situation.
"You have nothing to be fear from me Angel," as he said this he got up from his
chair and moved around the desk to lean against it directly in front of her, "I
just want what's best for us all, and sometimes we have to make sacrifices to
do what is best for everyone." He reached towards her and caressed the side of
her neck,she flinched away from his touch and his implications, but Valentine
seemed willing to let that go as he continued speaking, "You understand that
don't you?"
It wasn't really a question, it was a test, and Clary knew it. Answer wong and
she winds up with that syringe in her neck. To say she understands would be an
obvious lie and that would get her nowhere good, and to tell the truth would
land her in a similar pot of hot water. "I'm starting to," she spoke slowly and
quietly, forming the words in her mind as she assessed his reactions, "I...I'm
scared and I don't want to be drugged again, but I'm entirely at your mercy so
I need to learn to accept that," she paused to look up at his face, "and I'm
willing to learn to understand."
He kneeled down so they were face to face, with one hand he held the syringe
and with the other he pressed her neck down so that their faces were inches
apart. His eyes were fixed on hers, and hers were glued to the swirling silver
liquid that had the power to take away her will. "I think that is a lot of good
progress Clarissa," he put the syringe back down on his desk and felt her
visibly relax at its absence, but he wasn't quite done yet. "however, I'm going
to need proof of your willingness to...learn." The way he said it left nothing
to the imagination, and sent a chill up her spine. He wanted her to willingly
sleep with him, and Clary couldn't help but think what a disgusting old pervert
this supposed righteous leader was.
"I don't think I'm ready...for that... just yet" She stuttered and paused
trying to get the words out as he brought his other hand up to caress her thigh
now that it wasn't holding the drug. He leaned forward and buried his head in
the crock of her neck, sticking out his tongue to lick the soft skin he found
there. His posture held her pinned to the chair and he pressed his body against
hers as best he could in his current position.
"If I recall we've already done this several times, so whether or not you think
you're ready doesn't really matter." His hand on her thigh worked its way up
her skirt and Clary jolted at the intimate contact, trying to back as far into
the chair as she could as she wracked her brain for any kind of excuse that
would result in her not having to have sex with her father.
"Please, no." She squeaked out as his hands continued to roam her body. "I just
need more time to see things your way." She reached for the stele wondering if
she would have to use it, and then Valentine sighed and backed away from her
reluctantly. Clarissa breathed a deep sigh of relief as he pulled away from her
and straightened up.
"I understand that this is difficult for you, and I'm not unreasonable." He
paused, whether it was for dramatic effect or waiting for her to say thank you,
Clarissa didn't know but she stayed silent unwilling to press her luck further.
"Three days. Just until the wedding, and then I expect your full compliance. Is
that understood?"
"Perfectly father." She didn't hesitate to respond, it was more than she could
have hoped for because either everything goes as planned and Valentine is dead
before the I do's, or they've all failed and she'll have bigger things to worry
about than her father's disgusting attraction towards her.
"Excellent. Now go join your brothers in the training room, we'll make a proper
shadowhunter of you yet." And with that dismissal Clary all but ran from the
room with a hurried 'Yes sir.' as the door closed behind her.
---------------------×---------------------
Neither of Valentine's sons was particularly fond of the other.
Jonathan, was very open about his hatred of the Angel boy. The man who took
everything from him his father's love, his mother's acceptance, and his
sister's heart. Jonathan was determined not to let him get away with it, though
he'd long given up on his parents, he would still have Clarissa and may the
Angel boy be damned. "
Jace, was more inconspicuous when it came to his resentment for his demonic
counterpart. He understood that no one could survive Valentine's parenting with
any kind of grace, but Jonathan's complete disregard for anything that he
deemed beneath him was disgusting; and if he was willing to admit it to
himself, terrifying. To Jace cooperating with him was a means to an end, and
once this was all over he wouldn't be at all devastated if the demon boy didn't
make it out alive.
Both stood opposite one another in loose fitting workout gear holding identical
steel bo staffs silently assessing their opponent. Valentine hadn't been lying
when he said that Jace's training had been lax under the Lightwoods, sure all
shadowhunters were trained to fight to the best of their abilities, but
Valentine had always pushed him beyond that...so very near the edge that
sometimes he felt his mind break, until there was nothing left but the will to
survive. Jonathan had nine more years of that torture than Jace did, and it was
sure to give him a raw advantage in any fight, but Jace wondered if maybe
Valentine had pushed his eldest son too far. There was an odd sort of energy
around the demon boy, he was unstable, and Jace wondered if he could use that
against him. They crossed their staffs between them, each bearing a deceptively
loose grip, then retreated into first position. They were statues in an
instant, muscles taut with the tension of the moment until Jonathan lunged
forward striking like a white cobra the end of his staff striking Jace right
between his rib cage and knocking the breath out of his lungs. Jace launched
back shifting his weight to his right foot so he wouldn't fall over, "Try to
keep up will you," Jonathan said as he fell back into position, "I'm supposed
to be bringing you up to speed, not letting you slow me down."
Jace rolled his shoulders and repositioned himself for defense, "Sorry, I
wasn't aware we'd started, but I guess that's what I get for expecting a demon
to play fair." he drew his staff up in a taunt, and waited for Jonathan to make
his move.
He didn't have to wait long the demon boy lunged out again this time swiping
his staff downwards towards Jace's head, which he easily deflected pulling his
staff up to block the head blow, and with that they began fighting in earnest.
Jonathan quick to recover from the block switched grips and pulled the butt of
his staff up for a body shot which Jace barely pivoted to avoid. Jonathan set
in as the aggressor pursuing Jace with swift, precise, and deadly attacks that
never seemed to let up. Jace found himself backed into a corner from the
demon's continuous onslaught before Jonathan let up, and made his way back to
the center of the room. "If father is going to make me waste my time training
you, you could at least make it interesting." Jonathan didn't like fighting
people who couldn't defend themselves, it reminded him too much of growing up
with Valentine, but it didn't seem like Jace was even trying and that upset him
even more.
Jace was surprised when Jonathan let up but he wearily followed him back to the
center of the training mat before responding haughtily, "Oh don't worry too
much over it, I'm just getting warmed up."
"I wasn't worried, I was simply wondering what my sister could possibly see in
someone so obviously beneath her." They crossed their staffs once more then
settled into first position, and this time it was Jace who made the first move.
He sidestepped and slashed his staff at Jonathan's side hoping to catch him off
guard. Not so as luck would have it Jonathan brought his weapon up in a perfect
block then moved into a counter attack swiping his staff down towards Jace's
head once more and missing by a hair.
"Really? I was wondering the same thing, though I suppose you are her brother
and she has to at least pretend to like you." Jace tried to goad Jonathan back
into the fray, but the demon boy refused to take the bait, he knew that
Clarissa genuinely cared for him no matter what Jace might say.
They continued this way back and forth, neither one of them tiring nor gaining
the advantage. Quite the opposite actually, they seemed to gain momentum the
longer they fought, until there was no semblance of restraint between them, and
that is how Clary found them. Sweaty, bruised, and locked in a fight that
neither was willing to lose.
"You both really ought to save your strength." She was leaning against a wall
next to a rack of throwing knives, and both boys stopped to look up as she
announced her presence. "After all we only have three days to depose a tyrant."
Chapter End Notes
     I really hate writing action scenes...
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