A.N-Okay, I was really shocked at the attempted rape of Clary by Sebastian. It just...it just blew my mind. Really, I was not expecting it. It was weird, because in my story Valentine's Brood, I had him forcibly kiss her, but I never thought Cassandra Clare would go with that. Now I really want Heavenly Fire.
Disclaimer: Characters all belong to Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments series. The italics in the middle are quotes and belong to City of Lost Souls by CC.
She gasped when he put his finger there, on the inside of her thigh. He sighed in content as he kissed her neck. He ran his hands down and her sides and felt her tremble. It was just as he imagined it. Perfect. Just the two of them.
"Do you want this?" he breathed, blowing on her face. She looked up at him, eyes full of pleasure and delight. "Do you...like this?" And here he lowered himself closer to her, so they were chest to chest.
"I love this," she growled, and then it turned into a moan.
"Who do you love?" he whispered, lips near touching.
"You, Sebastian." Sebastian smiled in triumph, and kissed her hard and-
Sebastian's eyes shot open. It had been a dream. Not real. He hadn't been - she wasn't - they weren't just -
A growl, one that would make a Moon's Child whimper in shame, escaped from his throat. He couldn't believe it wasn't real. Surely it couldn't have all been made up. The sweat, the feel of her, the sound of his name from her lips-
Sebastian sat up. He was covered in sweat and his sheets were all caught up in his legs. He clenched the bottom sheet in both hands, fury simmering throughout his body. It should have been real - could have been, even would have...but it wasn't. And he just didn't understand. Why wasn't she here with him, letting him do what he wanted? Why wasn't Jace here, laughing and joking with him? He needed them. They were his. How dare they run away from him.
"Then, who do you belong to?"
"I belong to you."
And if that was the case, she also belonged to him. It made perfect sense. They came from the same genetic background all the way back, to the beginning of time. But they also completed each other - he with Lilith's blood, she with Ithriel's. Demon and angel, in perfect harmony. She had told him (drunk on the silver stuff) that he was "all dark, dark, dark" and that she and Jace were "light." She still viewed him as evil, a demon. She still thought sh was an angel, that she and Jace both were. Well she was partly right: but she was his angel, dark, fallen, broken. Beautiful.
Sebastian disenangled himself from the sheets and stood up. He was still angry, and in that anger he punched the wall closest to him, making a hold. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood and plaster dust, but he hardly noticed. All he could think of was when he slapped his sister and she had been covered in blood and he'd though she looked so beautiful that way. He'd wanted her so bad then. Now.
"There are worse things than dying. And I will do them all to you, little sister, once you've drunk from the Cup. And you will like it."
(She'd spat at him then, he remembered. Disgusted with him, his touch. But he had enjoyed her hatred, because hatred was another form of love.)
But then she hadn't drank, and it ruined everything. And - and then she had killed Jace, killed their connection. It had hurt. It had felt like a ragining inferno had risen up inside his chest, trying to turn his organs to ashes. Bitch, he'd thought. Crazy, beautiful little bitch. I will get you for this - you will beg me to.
And so that was his plan: emass an army of demons and dark Shadowhunters, destory the world, get his brother and sister to see reason, and put his sister in her place.
Thinking of his sister made him think about Jace. He - he was angry at Jace, furious at him for defiling his sister. Clary was his. He'd told her he didn't care what she did - and that was true; he didn't. But she needed to know he came first. She belonged to him.No one else, not even Jace.
Oh yes, he would burn down the world to get what was his. His and his alone.
Sebastian chuckled darkly and went back to his bed. It wasn't as good as the real thing - his hands on her hips, his mouth on hers, blood splattered all about - but perhaps dream-Clary could satisfy him until the real her came.