Shadowhunters Imagines & Prefrences

SIMON IMAGINE *you have a nightmare*

Alright... Whose bright idea was it to piss off a Warlock? Well actually it was probably your fault anyway...

The Shadowhunter gang (the Lightwoods, Clary and your boyfriend, Simon) needed help finding some demon.

Magnus failed to help for whatever reason. Probably something to do with Camille Drama - you honestly weren't sure. So Simon asked you for help on finding another Warlock. One that is strong enough to help.

He said something about your "downworlder conections". But honestly asking me probably wasn't the smartest choice. And you tried telling him that, you really did. But he just kept going on and on about how you should have "more faith in yourself" and bla bla bla. So if anything it's Simon's fault.

The thing is, most of the time your brother handled any offical buisness - including any interactions with other important Downworlders (he also made sure to keep you away from them - vise choice apparently...). In short - you probably shouldn't have agreed considering your lack of experince in that arena.

Well long story short : you (apparently) didn't do your research thoroughly enough and picked the wrong guy. His record seemed clean enough - impressive even. But he was a well-known fraud. Ooooppss... (Again - Simon's fault!)

When you finally figured that out it was already too late. You all tried to catch him to give him over to the Clave, but while doing so you were hit by some kind of spell.

You collapsed to the floor, seemingly asleep. The hunt on the scheming Warlock was forgotten as everybody rushed to your side. Simon was the first to reach you, paniced and wishing you wouldn't have gotten involved. The panic only rose when you wouldn't wake up.

Alec quickly phoned Magnus and not long after you were lying on the comfortable couch in Magnus' apartment.

************************************

You woke up in a bed, lying face up. The room you were in was illuminated only by the moon. You slowly sat upright and looked around at your surroundings.

The room, the bed, the noise of cars outside your window - you'd recognize it anywhere. It was your old room in New York from when you just moved from Mexico. But that's impossible. It's been decades since the building has existed... And even longer since you stepped a foot into the building.

"Hello?" you called out into the small room.

You weren't sure why - it's not like you expected a response. Maybe you couldn't stand the silence. Your mind was racing and the silence was deafening. It made you even more uneasy so you kept talking.

"Simon? Si?"

You were slowly making your way around the room and towards the window.

"Raphael? Clary? Anybody? Is this some kind of joke?... Jace?..."

You stopped when you saw a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back at you - you haven't seen her in ages. It was your own reflection, but your hair looked different. It hasn't looked like that in years. And your face looked different as well. More innocent. Not yet hardened by the cruel world.

You stared for a few more moments, mesmerized by the sight, before tearing your gaze away and back on your room.

You were half expecting to see your friends there, laughing and saying it's all a joke. But the only thing there was the darkness and the light glow of the moonlight.

"This isn't funny!" you called out again, louder.

You were starting to panic.

'How did I get here? Where is everybody?... Where's Simon?'