AUTHOR'S NOTE:
So I just finished reading City of Lost Souls. And since City of Heavenly Fire doesn't come out for another, what, two years, I've decided to write an alternate fic for it while we wait. This will be updated on the last Friday of every month (Sorry if that seems long, but I have a full-time job and I'm also working on my own novel, so fanfiction comes second; plus, if it's updated consistently at this rate, we'll finish pretty much just in time for the release of the real book, which is pretty nifty), but I already have the first ten or so chapters planned out, and the epilogue is already written.
This is going to focus more on Malec, as I feel that Clace and Sizzy have been getting way too much exposure in these books, and Jordan and Maia will hardly be featured at all (Who actually likes those two?). And I honestly feel that Malec is the most realistic relationship portrayed in the series; I mean, they actually have legitimate intimacy and trust issues, unlike Jace and Clary, who just want to bone each other every other five pages. So if you don't like Malec...too bad. Get over it and/or don't even begin reading this fic, because their relationship is a huge catalyst for the actual plot.
But seriously, who doesn't like Malec? :)
I can't remember a thing that happened in CoFA (Except for the hella awesome ending), and I'm already starting to forget what happened in CoLS, so bear with me, and please feel more than free to address any mistakes you see.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sebastian Morgenstern or any of the MI characters or the series itself. All of it belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Warnings: Mild violence
Sebastian glared down at the angel, his eyes full of disdain. What a pitiful sight it looked, he thought, grounded and curled in on itself, golden blood pooling beneath it in reflective puddles.
"I hope I haven't caused you any more discomfort than was necessary," the boy said, his voice sharp and echoing in the dingy cellar.
The angel opened its eyes, almond-shaped and absent of pupils. Its cheekbones rested high upon its face, framed by dirty, blonde curls. Scars and purple bruises marred its otherwise flawless skin.
"Why have you turned your back upon heaven, my child?"
Sebastian's lips curled downward in a sneer. "Heaven never held me in any favor," he snapped, anger and pain distorting his handsome features. "How could it? Cursed with the blood of a demon woman. Your precious creator turned his eyes from me the very moment of my birth, holding me responsible for the actions of one Valentine Morgenstern."
"It matters not what blood courses through your veins, boy," the angel whispered, its voice dripping with such compassion that it made Sebastian feel physically ill.
"Then why do Shadowhunters hold such favor with heaven? Face it, angel," the boy spat, his voice laced with poison, "blood is everything."
Sebastian pulled a wicked, curved blade from his belt, and sliced it into the flesh of his palm. Thick, blackish blood oozed between his fingers as he clenched them into a fist, droplets of blood falling onto the cement floor, sizzling where they landed. "If blood is meaningless," he hissed, "why don't you take my hand and prove it?"
The angel remained immobile, its eyes half-lidded and downcast in its sorrow. Sebastian smiled, his lips set into a thin, cruel line. "It's just as I said, angel," he whispered, his voice a bitter hiss, full of hatred. "We of the wrong blood hold no favor with heaven."
The angel gazed upward at the young boy with mournful eyes. "You have such ambition, child," it whispered in a sad, toneless voice. "But that ambition will be your undoing, just as it was with your father."
Sebastian hissed, sucking in air through his teeth. "I am nothing like him. Nothing like him at all."
"Above all else, child, you are your father's son."
Eyes narrowed in fury, Sebastian pulled his left hand back and struck the angel across the face, a sharp crack reverberating from off the stone walls. Breathing hard, he stared down at the angel, at its blood-encrusted shoulder blades, bits of bone and feather protruding from where its wings had been severed from pale flesh.
Sebastian spat at the angel, face contorted in rage. "After I've brought hell to heaven, I'll set you on fire and watch you writhe."
He turned on his heels, leaving the shattered creature to sulk in its ruin.
He slammed the cellar door behind him, sliding down the metal, pulling at his hair as he crouched on the off-white tiled floor.
"I am not like him," he whispered, his head buried in his hands, fingers twisted in silvery hair. "I am not..."
You are just like him. You and he are the same.
He knew that voice, knew that snide, holier-than-thou tone.
He knew it better than he knew the sound of his own voice.
Clarissa.
He dropped his hands to his knees, scowling upwards, as if daring heaven itself to smite him where he crouched.
"Call upon your unhearing angels all you like, darling sister," he spat, baring his teeth. "But know that hell is where you belong."
And he would burn down the world and deliver it to her doorstep.