Different than Normal
A/N: Okay pokay dokay smokay, I'm back. I've had massive writers block and a serious lack of motivation, but I've overcome it!
Something to address: I don't reply to reviews a lot, usually only when they're insanely long or when someone's asking a question. I need you guys to understand, it's nothing personal and I really do want to reply; it's just I have social anxiety and it's multiplied by ten on the internet. Also, I never know what to say besides thanks for your review and then somehow manage to conjure up an entire story of rambles and nonsense and end up deleting it... Not my proudest moments. So, I guess, if you really want a reply, give me something to reply to XD
Today, my one-shot will be about the typical 'Clary is bullied and abused Jace is popular and saves her boohoo so much sadness boohoo cry cry cry fuck me'. And I don't judge people that have cliché storylines like that, because some of them are quite original and good, but the ones that bother me are the ones that aren't original in the slightest. I can go on and find at least three stories with nearly the exact same storyline and outcome. I know I know, don't like don't read, and I do don't read when I don't like no worries, but this is all about going against the clichés, so that's what we're going to do!
Recommendation of the day will sort of be a book review-ish thing, so I hope you're into that?
Without any further ado, the story!
Omg sorry for the long A/N I just got to writing and I couldn't stop feel free to skip oh my pickle berry jam sorry.
Also, I wrote this in first person? The fuck waffle? I just feel like there are so many options with first person, even if it does feel like I'm betraying my writer heart. With third person it just gets very repetitive and with first person it doesn't? IIII dunno. Just see if you enjoy it or not.
BY THE BY, yes, Benedict is a character from the Shadowhunter Chronicles. Benedict Lightwood, from the Infernal Devices. I don't use OC's, only canon characters.
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Now, I wasn't popular. Holy heck, if you thought I was, you couldn't be any further off.
I was an actual nobody. No one noticed me, no one knew me. I wasn't even 'most likely to be vaguely remembered'. I was 'who the flipper dipper is this'.
No one talked to me, no one looked at me, no one knew my name, no one bumped into me, touched me, thought of me, acknowledged me, no nothing. Not even teachers.
At first, this never bothered me, until two years ago in my sophomore year.
The hottest guy in the world transferred to my school. Jace Herondale.
No one knew shit about him or where he came from, except he had a British accent.
Just like me, he had no friends.
Just like me, no one talked to him. At least, not kindly.
He was bulllied pretty hardcore by the football team. Now this might make you think, 'Oh so he's a nerd?', well, no. He was far from a nerd.
He was simply an outcast.
He was weird when he first came, never talked, always sat alone. The populars tried with him, but he rejected them, which took a turn for the worse.
But he didn't let them bully him, oh hell no. He fought back to the point where they had to make it unfair. With four jocks, he could still beat them. He would get quite roughed up, but win nonetheless. With five, they barely made it, but they did. So, naturally, they decided to teach him a lesson with six at a time, at least thrice a week after or during school.
But I soon found out it became a fortunate cover instead of miserable torture.
For some odd reason, he moved in next to me after a year of already going to our school.
I lived in a cute brownstone, not too big not too small, with my mom and my dog.
On a random Wednesday morning around the beginning of summer vacation, a moving truck pulled up in front of our neighboring house.
A fancy Mercedes pulled up after the truck and out stepped the boy who took my breath away with each blink of his eyes. Along with Jace came a man who looked nothing like Jace, yet I assumed he was his father.
Where Jace was all golden hair, golden skin and golden eyes, this man was all brown-gray hair, brown eyes and pale skin.
And just then, as I was shamelessly observing them, Jace looked me straight into my eyes, gold meeting green. A lion and grass, honey and grapes, gold and banknotes, caramel and apples.
I expected him to wink, to roll his eyes, to look away, to give me the finger, to wave, to move.
But he just stared at me as I stared at him until I couldn't take it anymore and ducked away.
And surely, because the world was all about fucking me over, the bell rang about two minutes after our exchange. I jumped up from where I had been laying on the ground. My mom wasn't home so I was forced to get the door.
Mortified, I opened the door with my face bright red, having already caught the shimmer of gold through our blurred little windows in the door.
''Yes?'' My voice was incredibly small, very obviously embarrassed.
He did that same thing as he did earlier, he just stared at me. But unlike earlier, his mouth was now in a half smile. A smirk. An arrogant smirk. That little assfucker.
''Clary, right?''
My eyes widened, probably comically, as I attempted to stutter out a response. Needless to say, I was taken aback.
As always, his face was bruised, his lip split. Even though it was vacation, I wasn't really surprised. He got into a lot of fights, rumor was he dealed drugs, or his father did, I wasn't sure.
I couldn't help but notice that his eyes shone in the bright sun, his hair glinting as he almost appeared to be an angel. I'd always thought he was unusually attractive, could never find a single flaw in his perfect being. Internally, I cheered at the small victory of finding one: a chipped incisor, which showed as his mouth morphed into a grin at my reaction. My victory was shortlived when I realized it only made him more perfect, more human, more attractive.
''I found one of your art pieces at detention, cleaning up the classrooms. Asked about you, observed and saw you drooling at me from your window.''
After that comment, I soon regained my composure. ''I wasn't drooling.''
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. ''Sure.''
I huffed. ''I thought the bullied kids where a lot more quiet.'' And I froze, not realizing as quickly as I should've that this was normally a sensitive subject.
''I—sorry, shouldn't've said that.'' I awkwardly tried to fix my slip up, scratching the back of my head.
He raised an eyebrow. I cursed, he raised it even higher before continuing with saying what he wanted to.
''I'm not some sensitive little boy, y'know.''
And I don't know why, but my self-control sort of slipped as did my usual manners.
''Ohhhh, I know that.'' It was like I was outside my body as my voice sounded dreamy. I saw my hand reach out and touch his stomach, feeling his rock hard abs.
And then everything came back to me.
I squeaked, blushed furiously and slammed the door, peeking through the little windows.
He was just standing there as I heard him laugh his ass off.
''It's not funny!'' I shouted from behind the door.
''Ohhhh yes it is.'' He laughed. ''C'mon, open the door.''
Very cautiously, I opened it just a snitch, peaking through it.
There he stood, wiggling his eyebrows at me as he held his shirt up to his chest, showing me his delicious looking abs.
''You're drooling.'' He commented, I didn't care. I fell into that same trance, causing me to open the door further and reach out for his abs, until I saw the bruises clearlier.
As well as a large cut poking around his side, which I was sure continued onto his back.
My mouth fell open a little as I sucked in a gentle breath, before doing the bravest thing I probably ever did in my entire life. I pulled him into my house.
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After lots of threatening and convincing and blocking the door, I finally got a grunt of acceptance as he dropped down onto my bed.
''Yeah, sure, make yourself at home.'' I sarcastically remarked.
''You did after all force my into your house not so long ago, Ms. I Own The Place.''
''I do own this place.''
''A place I don't want to be in.'' He pointed out.
''You need stitches, I'm helping you, you little bitch.''
''I'm a little bitch?''
''Yup.'' I popped the 'p', closing my eyes in satisfaction as the 'p' left my mouth.
I was immediately caught off guard as he attacked me, but not in the way I wanted him to.
Naturally, as any sane girl would want with a hot guy, I wanted his lips on mine, his hands on my waist, his di—
Let's stop there, shall we?
I did get a part of it, seeing his hands were on my waist. More specifically, his fingers, which were poised, ready to attack my sides.
I looked up at him with begging eyes.
''No, please d—''
And his fingers attacked me, tickling my sides mercilessly as I released streams of giggles and snorts and laughs and squeals and squeaks.
''I—'' giggle, ''—will—'' laugh, ''—kick—'' squeak, ''—you!''
He stopped, raising his eyebrows at me, once again in disbelief.
I kept my face defiant.
Of course, until he leaned over me from where we had fallen to the floor, balancing on his hands which he had right next to either side of my head, his mouth so close to mine.
I expected him to pull away, to continue his teasing, but he looked just as caught-off-guard as I was.
My self-control started slipping again as I found myself in that same trance.
And he kissed me—or I kissed him, I wasn't sure.
My hands moved from where they had been tangled in his silky locks to the hem of his shirt, where they slipped under. I felt his delicious abs, adrenaline and energy coursing through me—until I felt something wet and sticky as my hands reached his side. I pulled away, staring at my hand as he gave me a confused look.
Blood.
''Fucking hell, I was having so much fun.'' There was amusement in his eyes and I couldn't help but giggle.
I did the thing that seemed natural to me and smeared it on his face before going to wash the remaining blood off my hands. I heard him chuckle.
''There'd been a crust over it, but I guess it opened up.''
''Well,'' putting on my smartass tone, ''coming back to my previous statement: you, sir, need stitches.'' Raising my eyebrows at him.
''Hmm,'' he walked towards me, pulling me into his arms, ''I love it when you get smart with me.''
My face turned incredulous. ''We just met, an hour ago.''
''My lips are quite acquainted with yours.'' He smirked at me.
Using his distracted moment to my advantage, I pulled his shirt up and over his head. He of course willingly had to lift his arms—I caught him rolling his eyes as he did so.
''If you wanted to have sex with me, you could've just asked. I would've happily obliged.''
His smirk was ever present, infuriating me further.
''Sit.'' I pointed to the bed as I bent down to grab the medkit from the cupboard.
He obeyed, but not before slapping my behind, to which I rolled my eyes.
''You know how to stitch?''
I didn't look at him as I grabbed the necessary supplies. ''Mum's a nurse, dad was a doctor, learnt what I needed to.''
I felt his eyes on me as I worked. ''Was?''
''Died when he got infected by one of his patients five years ago.''
We fell into a comfortable silence. He didn't offer his condolences or an apology, which was a nice refreshing occurence.
The question was burning my throat and tongue, hanging between us, unspoken before I dared to ask.
''Who did this to you?'' My voice was small, not wanting him to get angry or annoyed.
He was quite defensive about the bullying and the fights.
''I suppose you want the truth instead of half-hearted lies?''
I looked at him pointedly.
''Alright, alright.'' He sighed, leaving a pregnant pause.
I looked at him, his eyes hesitant as he opened and closed his mouth.
''Benedict.''
''Umm...'' I said, hinting at the fact that I had no clue who that was. Jace didn't seem to notice as he stared at my walls.
''And Benedict is...?''
He seemed a little startled, as if he had been lost in his mind. ''Oh—right, he's my foster parent. The other man you saw.''
''Oh.'' I didn't know what to say.
''It's okay.''
''What about the football team?''
He laughed, humorlessly. ''When I moved in with Benedict, they sort of became my cover. Everyone knew they beat me up nearly everyday, so no one would notice if I showed up with bruises everyday.'' He paused, looking at me seriously. ''And I will not wear make-up. Ever. Even if I lose my cover, make-up is a no-go.''
I grinned at him, when something poured out of my mouth before I could stop myself. ''Wanna have sex, then get out of here?'' Now, the sex part was completely unplanned, the get out of here part I'd been considering for a few minutes.
He grinned. ''Fuck yes.''
About a year later, he lost a bet of ours.
I ended up doing his make-up.
And darn him, but even then, he looked stunning.
A/N: Zere we go. I fucking love mashed potatoes. It's delicious.
Okay. Recommendation of the day: again, the book Wink, Poppy, Midnight. I actually finished it and I quite enjoyed it, but here are some flaws: 1. In the beginning of the book there's like, no plot and the writer covers that up with beautiful writing and fancy words and switching povs and many strange comparisons, but I managed to see through it. 2. The book has no real conclusion, and I get that that's the purpose, you're supposed to think and think and think about, but I would've liked a clear conclusion: what happened to Wink, or Poppy, or Midnight? 3. It's very dreamy and the things the characters say would just be weird in real life, so it's really not realistic. There were many good sides to this book, don't worry. These were just the down sides.
And finally, the fanfiction Clary and Jace One Shots! By suffocatingonsadness. It's pretty good. In the beginning the endings are quite repetitive, but afterwards the writer starts changing it up a little.
I hope you enjoyed this cliché, sort of de-clichéd? Like, I don't get why Clary is always abused and bullied, it's a lot more interesting and tragic when it's Jace, don't you agree?
Also, I defeated the forever surviving cliché of innocent, shy little Clary.
I hope you enjoyed! Might be another one coming up after this.
Sorry for any typos or double spaces!
Favourite and follow ;)
Review xoxoxoxo
Waffles out.