#as in whenever someone looks like they are going to ruin his Magnus time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thelostgirl21 · 1 year

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I think one of the reasons why I absolutely adore Magnus and Alec's first time together is because, as Magnus once said, Alec is just so... innocent.

I know that fans are often equating him sort of pouncing on Magnus to passionately kiss him (as soon as he learned they had the apartment to themselves), and later eagerly pushing him towards the bedroom while starting to unbutton his shirt, as him being anything but "innocent".

But, to me, having the confidence to express his desires, going after what he wants, and taking charge of a situation - even one filled with some unknowns - is not something indicating a lack of innocence on Alec's part.

Part of it likely comes from his own temperament. Like Izzy said, he has a tendency to overthink things.

He can make brash and impulsive decisions, at times, in an effort to quickly fix issues causing him a great deal of emotional distress, true. But otherwise, he usually tries to look at a situation through as many angles as he can, collect data from a number of different sources, ask for other people's input, etc., before reaching a conclusion.

Once he does commit to a given course of action, however, he fully commits!

Not blindly (i.e. the feedback he receives from his environment will make him change course if he notices something's wrong and he's no longer sure that he's doing the right thing), but with an impressive amount of drive, willpower, and determination.

What makes him such a formidable leader, IMHO, is that he's got the strength of his convictions, while said convictions remain flexible and adaptable in light of any newly acquired information.

Whenever he realizes he's made a mistake, he's able to own it, figure out / explain why he made that mistake, learn from it, and work on solutions to prevent making those same mistakes again.

And it is a really, really good thing. Because, driven as he is, if he was remotely dogmatic in his beliefs or unable to cope with the idea of being wrong, he'd truly be dangerous - crushing anything and anyone in his path to reach his objectives.

But the point is that Alec is someone that typically tries to measure the potential impact of his actions before he reaches a decision.

And, since all of his concerns have been dealt with before - during the "overthinking phase" - there's often no longer any need for him to hesitate or hold back while acting on it.

In this very instance, it was rather clear that becoming sexually intimate with Magnus was something that he'd had the chance to think long and hard (no pun intended) about.

Since - given he'd already been with approximately 17 000 lovers before - the likeliness of Magnus being comfortable having sex with him was rather high.

From Alec's P.O.V., I'm guessing that the only one "reasonably holding them back" from being sexually intimate with each other, technically, was Alec himself.

I have a feeling that he already knew that, deep down, he felt ready to have sex with Magnus when he went to ask Izzy for advice.

He just needed to be sure that his lack of experience wasn't making him overlook any important variables before fully "going for it".

For example: Is there anything that Izzy wished she'd have known before she had sex for the first time that she didn't? Anything specific he should be made aware of? Anything he (or Magnus) could regret?

And she basically lets him know that - since Magnus and him genuinely care about each other - it's going to be fine.

If the thought of having sex with Magnus is something that Alec wants, if it makes him happy, then the best thing for him to do is to stop worrying!

She's making it rather clear that her own experience with sexual intimacy is - thankfully - not something she regrets, and there's no reason why Alec might regret it, either.

If it is something that he does yearn for, and since he's with someone that genuinely cares about his well-being and safety, then the only thing that might ruin this for Alec is Alec himself worrying about what could go wrong.

So, Alec pouncing on Magnus - going right after what he wants and what makes him happy with pure abandon once he's sure of his decision - to me, is extremely typical of the way Alec behaves in general.

But, most importantly, I see it as a sign of complete trust in his partner.

He's comfortable enough initiating the physical intimacy and openly expressing what he wants, regardless of his own inexperience, because he trusts Magnus to guide him through the process.

As it turns out, however, Alec had overlooked some variables - namely Magnus' own fears and insecurities. And this is where Alec displays traits that really show how innocent he is, too.

He sees Magnus as someone that loves him unconditionally, and that couldn't possibly seek to hurt or take advantage of him.

Alec is in love with him, he feels loved by him, and he's got no tangible awareness, apparently, that there is a significant power imbalance between them that Magnus (thankfully) remains very aware and respectfully mindful of.

I say "thankfully", because the fact that Magnus worries about taking advantage of any situation with Alec is a good sign that Alec's trust in him isn't being misplaced.

I believe that Magnus is fully aware that, his whole life, Alec has been conditioned to meet the expectations of those he loves and depends on to feel safe.

And, while they eventually did see the errors of their ways, his parents did use how they expressed or withheld love and approval towards their children as motivational tools to get them to act certain ways, and make certain choices.

Alec was even willing to go as far as marry Lydia because he felt responsible for fixing his parent's mistakes and restoring his family's honor.

He has a tendency to readily sacrifice his own wants and needs for those he loves - to put himself second.

And Magnus knows that he's always been very honest with him regarding his past sex life history.

From appreciative "name dropping" (Michelangelo was "excellent in bed", Casanova was "brazen"...) to him having been with "men, women, seelies, warlocks, vampires... a djin or two" (about 17 000 of them!), he's made it rather clear that sex is something he enjoys indulging in every now and then.

So, it wouldn't be far fetched for Magnus to worry that Alec would have interpreted his openness about sex in general as being something that he would absolutely need to have in a relationship in order to continue being interested in his partner.

It makes sense that Magnus would be concerned that he may have unwittingly offered Alec the impression that, if he took too long before being able to "give him what he needs" to be happy or feel fulfilled in their relationship, then he might decide that being with a 20-something inexperienced virgin Shadowhunter wasn't worth it, and/or go seek "his pleasure" elsewhere.

I mean, from what I understand, Magnus himself has often been made to feel like what he had to offer was either too much, or not enough, too. He even apologetically told Alec in the beginning of their relationship "I know I'm a lot to get used to".

So, his own ability to clearly express where he stands and what he wants or needs - and have his partner understand it - has been something that he's been made to feel very insecure about.

And the last thing he wishes to do, I believe, is hurt Alec or take advantage of him; to have Alec feel like he should be sexually active with him based on any wrongly interpreted signal that Magnus might have been unwittingly sending him simply by being open and honest about his past.

And if you do force yourself to have sex with someone without truly wanting it - for fear that you might be losing them if you don't - there's a very high likeliness of your own body responding to the sexual act as some form of aggression.

Sadly, once your brain starts making associations between the feeling that some of your personal boundaries having been violated and the person you were with when that feeling occurred, you may instinctively start withdrawing from them and be uncomfortable being generally intimate with them.

So, Magnus being instinctively cautious, and refusing to immediately take Alec's eagerness to be sexually intimate with him at face value makes sense and is extremely reassuring in its own way.

Alec also display some measure of innocence in the way he responds to Magnus attempt at slowing him down, too.

It goes from this sort of still somewhat eager open confusion where he's just verbally clarifying what he wants (Okay... I thought pouncing on your significant other once you've made sure the way is clear might convey "I want us to sleep together! Let's do this! I'm ready!"... Did I miss something? Damnit, Izzy, I swear if I learn there's some sort of mating ritual you're supposed to go through first, and you never thought to tell me, I'll be so pissed!)...

...to extremely focused on Magnus when he starts expressing his own concerns with Alec's wish for them to become sexually intimate together so soon into the relationship.

Alec's not just listening to his words, but appears to be actively looking for clues in Magnus' gaze and in his behavior to help him figure out what's happening, and what he might have been missing in all of his prior "overthinking".

While Alec doesn't seem to fully "get it" (apparently totally unaware that having sex with someone before you are fully ready might put a strain on a relationship, and/or just how easy it would be for someone to take advantage of the way Alec is so openly offering himself to them), he does appear to get that Magnus is scared that he is making the decision to please him, rather than because he truly wants to.

So, to me, having Alec clearly tell him "You have nothing to worry about, I want this", right before confidently pushing Magnus towards the bedroom while starting to unbutton his shirt, doesn't translate as a lack of innocence on his part, either.

I see it more as Alec's way of reassuring Magnus that he is genuinely ready for them to be sexually intimate together. It's him trying to make Magnus feel that he's doing this for himself, first and foremost.

It's Alec wordlessly saying "I may be inexperienced, but I don't see why being inexperienced should make me apprehensive about being sexually intimate with you. I trust you, I believe I'm making the right choice for myself, and I need you to trust me, too."

Alec's innocence also shines through in the way he initiates making love with Magnus like someone that's never been hurt in love before.

In the way he doesn't seem to have any specific expectations besides sharing something that's supposedly wonderful and fun with Magnus.

His guards are completely down, and he's just this happy, giggling, fumbling mess feeling his way around and trying to figure out the steps as he goes...

When Magnus teasingly remarks "that was graceful" (referring to how they both lost their balance several times while making their way to the bed - trying to remove pieces of clothing at the same time - to finally clumsily topple together on top of said bed), Alec gets in on the humor by happily replying "Shadowhunter" while gesturing to himself, then passionately dives right back in all the kissing and groping.

It doesn't seem to occur to him - not even for a second - that some sexual partners have a tendency to take sex very "seriously", and are unable to keep their concentration when the other person is constantly giggling and laughing or even *gasp* joking.

He's not acting like he's scared of messing anything up by not knowing what he's doing, either.

He's not worried about the possibility of Magnus gossiping about having slept with a Shadowhunter, while mocking his lack of experience or "technique" with fellow Warlocks.

There isn't the slightest notion in his mind that any of this could be about Magnus' wishing to add a Shadowhunter on his already impressive list of "sexual conquests".

Until Magnus interrupts them again, there's not a single tiny bit of concern being expressed by Alec about his ability to "offer a good sexual performance", and/or "living up to his partner's expectations", either.

He's just this happy, carefree, loving partner having the time of his life, exploring something new and wonderful in his relationship with the man he loves - something that he never believed he could ever have for himself - and staying in the moment.

He's (rightly) assuming that, because Magnus saw him when it seemed no one else did, told him that being "different" was a good thing, has since been able to set up clear boundaries with him and hold him accountable in the relationship without targeting his ego, and has never tried to make him feel like he's not "good enough" for him, there's no reason why Magnus should expect him to offer anything other than himself.

There's no use for Alec to attempt to pretend he's this amazing lover when he's never been in the position of being a lover before, and Magnus has clearly told him that "he doesn't care how many people he hasn't been with" already.

Magnus makes Alec feel safe, unconditionally loved, supported, and gives him confidence.

Generally speaking, in virtually any context, he uses his own power and experience to empower Alec and help him reach his own potential, rather than seek to dominate him and make him feel small.

He's someone that Alec feels comfortable being emotionally and physically "naked" with.

I remember that the first time I heard and watched the way Alec proudly answered "Shadowhunter" - then immediately grabbed Magnus to kiss him some more (barely giving him any time to process the comment) - I was just totally overwhelmed with "feels"!

Alec is just so blissfully happy and adorably confident and way too pure for this world in this moment! And it's such a delight to watch Magnus positively respond to him and savor those moments with him.

Being innocent, in a sexual context, is not something that I personally see as turning 3 shades of red and starting to giggle nervously because someone said the word "penis" out loud, or freezing at the thought of seeing or touching a bit of skin.

I mean, seeing how comfortable Jace was with Alec walking in on him while he was in the middle of foreplay with a member of his "book club", I'm guessing that it's not the first time something like that has happened between them.

Alec himself appeared to be more irritated with Jace's blatant lack of shame or sense of interpersonal boundaries, rather than traumatized over what he saw was about to happen.

And then, there's Isabelle that, if I remembered correctly, complained about how she was constantly talking to Alec about her love/sex life, while he kept everything to himself.

So, there's no question that Alec knows what sex is, and likely sees sexual activity as something natural that is nothing to be ashamed of.

Being in his early twenties, you would sort of expect him to be surrounded by openly sexually active people and understand what's usually "going on" in a bedroom, not to mention having been given plenty of time to explore his own body.

Thus, what makes him innocent, in the context of a romantic and sexual relationship, to me, really is how he approaches lovemaking with such an open and trusting heart, while laughing, stumbling, trying to connect with his partner and focusing on them being happy together without any hint of concern or fear of being hurt in the process.

And Magnus offers Alec a safe space to be himself and fully enjoy the moment they are sharing by letting Alec set the pace and following his lead. He's stumbling, giggling, and allowing himself to be blissfully happy right alongside him, approaching the whole experience as something new and exciting.

And it is. Each partner you share a bed with is unique, and you will need to find your own shared rhythm with them.

Magnus, however, could easily have ignored all of this and spontaneously taken the role of "the experienced mentor" that will teach the "newbie" everything he knows about sex, including the "best, most pleasurable way to do it"! But he didn't.

And if you're laughing at the statement I just gave, you'd be surprised with how many partners I've had, in my teenage and adult years, that approached sex as some sort of competitive sport, boasting at their own skills and experience, and immediately tried to "take you under their wing" to "teach you all of their trade secrets" as soon as they learned that they were the most experienced out of the two.

Thankfully, my very first experience was with a guy one year younger than myself, that had only had one sexual partner before me, and who was just the sweetest, most attentive partner any virgin could have asked for.

He made the whole experience be about me being comfortable with what was happening and about us being and figuring things out together; and that was exactly what I needed at the time. He never made me feel like there was any rush for us to get anywhere specific together.

Sadly, not everyone is as fortunate. Some experienced partners appear to care way more about showcasing their skills and being praised for "giving you a good time", rather than achieving any sense of partnership.

I really believe, however, that the most experienced partner's role should always be to put themselves at the least experienced partner's level at first, so that they can then build something together from there.

Perhaps the least experienced one will be delighted to have the most experienced partner "show off" what they can do and teach them new things!

But the point simply is that it should be a choice they make, and not something that's being imposed on them from the get go on the assumption that "my job is to show you a good time and teach you stuff".

Immediately taking charge without first confirming that this is something the other wants or needs is the best way to damage the least experienced partner's confidence, make them feel like what they have to offer you with their current level of skills and knowledge isn't enough, and make them become overly fearful of taking initiative and just experimenting with different things in the bedroom.

And this is true whether the person you are with is someone you care about, love, and wish to develop a relationship with, or someone you just met at a bar and may never see again in your life.

Even if the goal of the sexual encounter isn't to build a more in depth relationship, the moment you are spending together is an intimate act where you are supposed to be partners. It's a moment where you need to make sure that you both (or all, should you be more than two) get something out of it, and feel like you are contributing to what's happening.

I have friends involved in BDSM - some of them enjoying the occasional company of a complete stranger as they feel it adds something exciting to the experience.

Anyone with a healthy approach to BDSM would tell you how important it is for any dominant/submissive dynamic to be consensual and include limits that all partners have discussed and agreed upon.

There's nothing wrong with the more experienced partner taking the lead in any sexual context, but they always need to make sure that this is what the other(s) want. Trust and communication are key - including paying attention to the non-verbal.

Thankfully, in this context Magnus handles Alec's innocence and inexperience absolutely beautifully, and is more than willing to make the moment about Alec and about the two of them.

Actually, Magnus is so skilled at matching Alec's own rhythm and sharing the experience with him, that he instinctively finds himself letting his own barriers down.

Apparently, Alec makes love with such an open heart and soul - hiding no part of himself in the process - that Magnus can't maintain his own glamour to hide any part of himself from Alec, either.

And, just like that, the power dynamic is changed!

In the Shadow World, Shadowhunters consider themselves the superior race since they share blood with the angels.

They are warriors of light imbued with Heavenly powers that proudly display their runes for anyone (except Mundanes, obviously) to see!

But the Downworlders - that share blood with demons - are taught to hide their "shameful demonic heritage" and are expected to constantly fight against their "demonic nature" that makes them "naturally more prone" to violence, decadence, evil actions, and so forth.

Warlocks may be the most powerful species of the Shadow World, they also are the literal children of demons - hybrids that can't even have their own children and who are carrying a physical mark that reflects their demonic parentage.

Some Shadowhunters apparently used to take those marks as trophies (it's pretty clear that Circle members still do), and it seems to be one of the ways that Shadowhunters sometimes use to confirm the identity of a warlock.

Later, we also learn that Magnus has been vulnerable to Asmodeus' influence as a child because he was the only other person he'd ever met with "eyes like his".

Magnus' eyes are tied to a lot of shame, early rejection (including his mother killing herself and abandoning him, when he was nine, when she finally realized what her son's cat eyes meant), and overall bad memories.

I think that the only times, until then, that we'd seen Magnus with his glamour down on the show was when he was trying to drive people away / intimidate them / remind them of how powerful and potentially dangerous he (or a spell he is performing) is.

It's when he wants people to remember that he's also "part monster", that they would do well not to get on his bad side, or make sure that someone requiring his services understands the type of forces they are dealing with.

Jocelyn Fairchild knocking at his door to get Clary's memories removed, those Circle members in the club, the one Magnus was fighting in his apartment...

They are all people that Magnus wanted to send some form of warning to, whether the warning was hostile, or not.

And suddenly, those "monster eyes" are on full display for Alec to see in a context where he wishes to make Alec feel safe and avoid anything that could ever drive him away.

Thanks to him having lost control over his glamour, Alec is now concerned that he's done something wrong...

And, although Magnus is quick to reassure Alec that his current reaction has nothing to do with something he did - or with him not wanting to share this intimate moment with him - he's still avoiding Alec's gaze, seemingly withdrawing from him, and offering no coherent or clear explanation as to why.

But, try as he might, Magnus can't bring the glamour back on, so he's essentially got two choices...

He can either trust that Alec won't leave once he sees his warlock mark, and that he'll be able to accept that it is a part of him that he can't always control (apparently).

That, should Alec find his eyes' appearance unsettling, they'll find ways to manage the situation until Magnus becomes better at maintaining his glamour around Alec while the two of them are being intimate with each other. Maybe get creative with the use of blindfolds?

Or he can continue to let Alec worry over what's happening while stubbornly keeping his eyes closed and refusing to look at him until he gets the glamour back on, thus maintaining a certain form of "barrier" between them.

Magnus thus chooses to take the risk of allowing himself to be vulnerable with Alec once again - allowing him to see him without any glamour - so he'll understand that his reaction wasn't caused by anything Alec did.

Or actually, maybe it was caused by something Alec did; just not by something Alec did wrong.

And I also love the way that Alec's expression doesn't change right away once Magnus finds the courage to turn around.

I love that Alec briefly continues to just look at him like he's still trying to figure out what's wrong with Magnus now that he's FINALLY able to look in his eyes - steadily searching for the answer there like he did earlier.

I like to think that Alec sort of initially just mentally went: "Okay, that's good, I've managed to get him to look at me. Now, I just need to convince him that it's okay for him to tell me what he meant by "los - OH!"

That the moment he realizes the eyes he's been looking into have changed color and appearance, he breaks into that slightly amused smile (mostly amused at himself for having been too focused on trying to read the emotions written there to immediately notice the change); relieved to know that Magnus and him will be okay.

Because, just like Madzie's gills looked incredibly cool, Magnus' cat eyes are absolutely gorgeous, and Alec knows he's just falling in love with his boyfriend's eyes all over again, gladly getting lost in their depth.

Alec can only hope that Magnus will believe him when he tells him that they are beautiful, that he's beautiful... That it will help relieve some of the pain, fears, and concerns he sees reflected in them...

Meanwhile, Magnus watches Alec go from being a concerned, confused, and inquisitive puppy; to a relieved, mesmerized, and adoring one in a matter of seconds!

Next thing he knows, there's a warm, gentle hand against his cheek; and a pair of open, steady, loving hazel eyes staring right back into his own, tenderly anchoring him there while Alec is calling his cat eyes beautiful, telling him that he's beautiful - all of him - with all the love and sincerity he can muster.

Magnus can allow himself to relax, lovingly reach up to caress the hand resting on his cheek while lazily blinking back at him in wonder.

His cat eyes - that Magnus had usually used to inspire respect and fear, to remind people of his powers and appear more intimidating - aren't driving him away.

For some reason, they appear to be drawing Alec in instead, inspiring him to move even closer to him rather than farther apart. And perhaps - just perhaps - if Alec can love them and see beauty in them, he might be able to learn to love and fully own that part of himself, too.

One of the things that fascinate me about Alec is that, once he found out that his parents and the Clave had lied to him his whole life about their involvement in the Circle, it's like he made the conscious decision to bring all of his perceptions of the Downworld back to factory reset.

He was able to recognize that all of the prejudices he'd ever had about warlocks, vampires, and other Downworlders weren't based on facts, and that there was no actual evidence that Downworlders were better or worse people just for having demon blood.

Instinctively, we fear what we don't know or don't understand - what we haven't been familiarized with when we were young. We perceive what isn't "like us" or "a part of our usual environment" as potential threats.

ROBERT: [Magnus]'s reputation precedes him. And even for a warlock, he’s a bit of a lothario. Alec, there’s so much that you don’t know about him.

ALEC: Well, then I plan to get to know him.

Alec's not denying that there are tons of things he doesn't know nor understand about Magnus, simply stating that he's not going to let that lack of knowledge make him treat Magnus as inherently "bad" or dangerous because of it.

He's going to take the time to get to know him - seek to better understand him - and he'll adapt his opinion of him based on what he sees, learns, finds, and experiences, rather than the opinion of people that have never bothered spending time with him, nor made any efforts to get to know him for who he is rather than what he could potentially do "as a warlock".

Better yet, he's going to start exploring the rest of the Downworld and getting to know their people as if he was experiencing their world and taking a look at them for the very first time, too.

When it comes to Magnus and the Downworld, Alec is choosing to leave himself open and trusting in the face of the unknown, rather than risking to unfairly treat them as threats to keep himself and fellow Shadowhunters "safe" from things they don't understand, yet are too fearful to go explore.

And, unlike Aldertree, he's wise enough to avoid treating anecdotal bad experiences, no matter how tragic or terrible they may be, as facts that can be generalized to all of the Downworld.

Just because the breaks of your car have malfunctioned and caused a crash doesn't mean that every car you'll climb in is ill-fated to have malfunctioning breaks and crash.

Alec is obviously not "innocent" all the way through. He grew up in a world of politics and is perfectly aware of the mind games and power plays that can and often occur there.

He was also emotionally and psychologically abused by parents that used his feelings to get what they wanted out of him (they may have thought they were doing it to protect their children from their past and the Clave, their behavior with their children was still controlling and abusive, even putting Jace, Isabelle, and Alec in the roles of the golden, invisible, and scapegoat child, respectively).

And that's sort of the point. Now that Alec has snapped out of it, he's very perceptive and typically good at noticing and identifying patterns of emotional manipulation, and/or when someone's motivations and goals go against the welfare of those they are supposed to be protecting.

And treating Downworlders as people also means avoiding to fall into the trap of idealizing them by believing that none of them ever would abuse their powers, among others.

Alec may have decided to start trusting and valuing Downworlders with an open heart, and utterly be refusing to see them as a threats based on their reputation and everything he doesn't know about them, but he still allows himself to have an opinion of each individual he meets.

Be they Shadowhunters, Downworlders, or Mundanes, if the individual's actions and motives appear to be self-serving, and/or threatens to bring harm to others, he won't trust nor support them.

But Magnus himself is the one that helped him realize that the way he'd been raised was wrong, and "snap out" of the manipulation and abuse he'd been the victim of. He's the one that inspired him to start questioning the "truths" he'd been blindly taught by the Clave, and to follow what he knew in his heart was right.

Magnus is the one that, while holding Alec accountable for his actions and letting him know when he didn't approve of his behavior, never tried to minimize what Alec was going through nor pretend that he was wrong for feeling the way he did.

In some ways, Alec is far from being innocent, but in others, he truly is.

He's never been in romantic relationship nor had sex with anyone before, he gets upset over the poor tunas being described as "fatty" on the menu of a sushi restaurant, he grew up being pretty sheltered from everything that exists outside of the Shadow World...

And, with Magnus, he doesn't need to pretend that he knows more than he does, nor hide any of that innocence from him, because he knows that he won't be judged for it, mocked about it or, especially, taken advantage of because of it.

He can afford to let his guards down and embrace that side of him that is filled with innocence and wonder because Magnus respects, values, and nurtures it.

What Magnus receives, in return, is the love and acceptation of someone that refuses to let other people's opinions or even blood connections dictate how he should see the world and others, takes the time to truly look at him, and openly tell him what he sees.

Alec doesn't care what warlocks marks are "supposed to mean" according to the Clave. Madzie's gills are cool-looking, so why shouldn't he compliment her on them?

Magnus' eyes are beautiful and he loves them, so why pretend otherwise?

"There is nothing ugly about you."

"I don't care who your parents are. I care who you are."

"You are the furthest thing from a greater demon."

After all, Alec's parents used to be Circle members, and he's the furthest thing from being Circle member, too.

All I can hope is that telling Magnus out loud that he shouldn't carry the burden nor shame of his parents' actions, or the fact that someone took advantage of him at his most vulnerable to try to turn him into someone he's not, is helping Alec truly internalize the fact that his family's crimes and mistakes aren't his to fix, and the way he'd treated or behaved with Downworlders before he realized how wrong his parents and the Clave were isn't something he should feel guilty about, either.

Take steps to make up for his mistakes and show proper responsibility for Downworlders who are under his people's protection, yes. Acknowledge what he did wrong and why it was wrong, absolutely.

But it doesn't make him a terrible person nor puts him at fault. He still deserves to be loved, cherished, put first, and be reminded of how beautiful he is, too.

I think what makes Malec such a beloved pairing is the amount of love and acceptance they have for each other, and their willingness to emotionally empathize despite their very different backgrounds and experiences.

Relationships do take efforts, but it is important not to overlook the type of efforts they require.

Relationships aren't about making the effort to change the other person to better suit yourself, nor to change yourself to become what the other person wants.

Because, while healthy relationships do, indeed, inspire people to change and (hopefully) become better; they do so by "unlocking" parts of ourselves that we didn't dare acknowledge, explore, develop, and/or express until then.

They do so by offering a supportive, loving, and safe environment for certain aspects of our personalities to hatch, take root, and/or grow.

But those are changes that come from within.

You can offer a romantic partner opportunities for change as much as you want, if they do not feel like they have anything to gain by embracing them (or worse, if their goal is to dominate and control the relationship), nothing good will come of it.

Those efforts, instead, are about learning to know and understand each other, finding the right balance between your partner's needs and your own, leaving your ego at the door while trying to resolve conflicts, admitting to being wrong when you are, showing appreciation and respect towards your partner for taking responsibility for their mistakes when it turns out that you are right, and seeking to come out of any conflict or difficult situation with the two of you having gained or learned something out of it, and with your partnership having ideally grown stronger from the experience.

Those efforts are about being willing to pool resources together to support and make each other stronger. They are about finding how to make your respective differences work in such a way that they complement each other, and accept that there are aspects of your lives where you'll need to agree to disagree.

Relationships take efforts, but they require healthy efforts.

And some of those efforts, thankfully, turn out to be more rewarding than anything else.

Because, while Magnus does have to make the effort of being mindful that he's Alec first romantic and sexual relationship, and he does have to make the effort of giving him space to explore, take risks, and set the pace for the both of them, he seems to be enjoying every single second of it.

Since Alec grew up in such a very sheltered environment, there are tons of things in the Mundane world - and even just life in general - that he's yet to have tasted, touched, seen, heard and experienced.

By loving him - by emotionally connecting with Alec - he gets the chance to re-experience many of the things he loves with him for the first time, too.

I have absolutely no trouble imagining Magnus bringing Alec to his favorite restaurants not so much for the food itself, but to drink in the sight of Alec tasting it and listening to him commenting on it - regardless of whether he ends up enjoying the same foods he does or not.

When they walk hand-in-hand in the streets of a foreign city, Alec is likely to pay attention to things that Magnus himself may never have noticed before, and appreciate details that he may have grown to take for granted over time, or stopped noticing after a while.

And, after having grown up with parents that - in Alec's own words - have drilled into him that he was never good enough, Alec has met someone that finds delight and joy in almost everything he does, and who treats him like he's the best thing that has ever happened to him in hundred of years!

Somehow, their respective needs and wants work together in a very beautiful and organic way.

They are different and they do come from different worlds, but their core values, personalities, ability to derive genuine happiness from their partner's own experience of it, and their desire to treat their relationship as a true partnership makes it work and allows them to overcome challenges together.

Magnus offered Alec a world he never thought he'd ever be allowed to have and experience.

youtube

Alec offered Magnus the key to opening his heart and fully emotionally connecting with all the wonders and joys of their world.

Magnus' powers is the magic he was born with, but Alec's love and innocence is the magic he chose to bring home with him and keep safe.

#Malec #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #Alexander Lightwood #Shadowhunters #My thoughts #My stuff #Except for the video at the bottom from YouTube #Videos #My Post #Apparently Alec isn't the only one that tends to overthink things...#I just have way too many feels about these two lately #The art of coming in late to a fandom...#And word-vomitting meta upon it...#I might recover from that pairing...#One day...#Or maybe never...#Yeah never's good...

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go-to-the-mirror · 1 year

Text

look, hear me out, hot jon ri- [EXTENDED SOUNDS OF BRUTAL PIPE MURDER]

@a-mag-a-day

One thing you should know about me is that i will defend jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london to my dying bloody breath. Another thing you should know about me is that i can do nuance, i just don't want to a lot of the time.

But. I will, put my... love... for the Jarchivist... to one side. sort of. a little bit. Look, you can't be unbiased, an attempt is all you're gonna get, mate.

But like, let it be known that I have talked extensively about scrutiny on my story, and most of it wasn't "but i love him, so, <3" actually most of it was "headinhands, jon, why"

Like, yk? Why didn't we see this coming, he's an Avatar, he's a monster, it's not making what he's doing better -- obviously -- but like, I feel like it's like... it's like... yk? we knew it in a theoretical way, and then we're like, oh, yeah, he doesn't get protagonist privileges.

I'm just rambling at this point, so, let's get onto the relisten, I guess, and I'll freak out there

ARCHIVIST The tape recorder. [SUDDEN INHALATION FROM BASIRA] BASIRA Get ready. Any idea what’s coming?

i think it's neat that they're realising that tape recorder on = (rqg pessimistic train driver voice) DOOOOOOM!

ARCHIVIST No, I… I think… [Calling out] Excuse me?

Jonathan "I don't think it's me doing it" Sims when he literally calls the guy back, fuck Jon, that's not okay!

SHIPHAND I don’t know you. ARCHIVIST [Archly] But I know you.

[ID: Marina and the Diamonds Smirk Meme /End ID]

look, hear me out-

LIKE OK HRHNR ITS COOL OKAY! IT'S COOL! IT'S AWFUL, BUT IT'S COOL!!

BASIRA Jon, I’m not sure about this. ARCHIVIST I am. Tell me what happened.

(tim voice) don't do it.

like, jon, jon, no, fuck? what the fuck, jon headinhands, headinfuckinghands

this is the theme of this ramble, okay? just headinhands but also his voice tho-

ARCHIVIST Whenever you’re ready.

it's so creepy, he's so creepy! that's just like- "whenever you're ready" SPOOOKY!!!! im kicking my legs i just think it's NEAT oKAY

The thing that was grabbing him, trying to reach down his throat and pull him apart… it was a pattern. Diamonds and swirls and colours that seemed to imprint itself upon his skin even as it pushed itself messily into his nose and mouth.

THAT'S SO COOL! I mean, uh, sucks to be him, but that's hnnrhrhnrnh <3333 it's so spooky and weird and I love it.

I followed slowly, unsteadily, but got there just in time to see Salesa throw both him and what looked like a blank rug over the side and into the ocean.

So, the pattern comes from the rug and then... attaches itself to people and/or things? That's neat!

He was drunk for the next two days, and we kept sailing on towards Cape Town.

:D I was so happy when I heard this on my first listen :3 like yay! South Africa is mentioned :3 I'm South African :3

Come to think of it, Floyd might have an Afrikaans accent. Don't quote me on that, I'm not sure, but I think so.

There was a storm over the island. I don’t know where it came from, it can’t have been more than a minute since I’d last looked at it, an-and the skies were completely clear. But now it was covered in lightning, the rolling clouds above it dark and angry.

So, the camera was keeping the island not sinking.

So I jumped ship the next chance I got. And I have tried ever since then to leave those memories behind me.

Would be lovely if someone *cough cough* Jon *cough cough* would let him. He's going to have nightmares about this till Jon dies. Like, poor him. That sucks, like even with Jess, she was leaving it behind, she was getting better and he took that from her. The bastard, christ Jon, you can't just do this to people, you can't just ruin their bloody lives because you're feeling peckish.

ARCHIVIST [Soothingly] You can go. FLOYD Erm… I, I don’t… ARCHIVIST Thank you Floyd. You’ve been… very helpful. FLOYD C— ARCHIVIST It’s alright, Floyd. You just… need a break.

I just like the way he says it, when Jon's being all monster-y, in this episode, sometimes when he's talking to Helen, I think, in MAG 187, and of course in the Crew Retrospective (speaking of, if you have stuff about the crew retrospective, please tag me, I want to see it), it's so suave, and for what. Charisma of 1, unless he's being... evil. I love him, I love that, it's so bloody suave, and charismatic, and smooth. He knows exactly what he's doing, he's in his element. Oh god, he's in his element.

Look, he may be slightly evil, but he's doing it with style, damn.

Like "It's alright, Floyd. You just... need a break" and it's like!!! HMNnn!!! No, Jon! You shouldn't be doing this to people, but also like hnhrhfhhnh so fucking cool!

ARCHIVIST Yes, Basira, he is. And I am sorry about that. But we needed it. Anyway you’re the one who wants to be like Gertrude. You think she’d give a damn about a few bad dreams? BASIRA No. ARCHIVIST No. She got the job done, and didn’t care about the cost. BASIRA But I thought you did. ARCHIVIST … I had to know, Basira. BASIRA It wasn’t right. ARCHIVIST You could have stopped me.…But you wanted to know as well, didn’t you?

Mr. Jarchivist Sims, your flimsy rationalizations are visible from space, you didn't want to be like Gertrude, you don't want to be like Gertrude, good lord, man, just... good lord.

I don't know what to say, I'm shaking this episode vigorously /pos

Ramble over! See y'all tomorrow where I'll be once again setting aside my flimsy belief (not even a belief) that Jonathan Sims did NOTHING WRONG if you ignore everything he did wrong.

End recording.

#tma #the magnus archives #a mag a day #mag 141 #jonathan sims #landscaping-your-mind-chapter-one #hot jon rights tho

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silkling · 3 years

Text

And here is the next installment of my Falsely Accused AU! I hope everyone likes it.

Falsely Accused: The Discovery

Ultra Magnus was not often a mech of regrets. He couldn’t afford to be. He led a planet. If he regretted too many of his decisions, it would lead to indecision and uncertainty that might cripple him. He had more than just his own pride riding on his shoulders. He had the lives of every Autobot, be it civilian or soldier, weighing him down even more harshly. So no, the Magnus did not often allow himself to regret. But as he stared at the painfully familiar helmet on his desk, he felt the unfamiliar emotion settle heavy in his spark, alongside guilt so strong it almost choked him.

He did not regret often. The few times he did, it was usually because he had made a very severe mistake.

This time, it had been no different.

———

Ultra Magnus sighed as he set aside Jazz’s report, scrubbing a servo down his face. The loss of their informant was blow indeed, but he was mostly relieved that his subordinate had escaped Lockdown unharmed. The bounty hunter was a formidable foe, and for all of Jazz’s skill, the rogue cyber-ninja had managed to offline many mechs both stronger and older than the young bot. Quite frankly, Jazz was lucky to be alive. It was with relief that he signed off on the report, setting the data pad it was on aside to be collected and filed later.

Next, he picked up the data pad that contained this quartex’s reports from Trypticon. The first few were routine inventory reports. Nothing about them sparked much interest. Another was a report on an altercation a Decepticon prisoner had had with a guard. Not surprising, though it was a shame the ‘Con had been offlined in the attempt to subdue him. It was the final report on the data pad that made him pause. It was a medical report from the medic stationed at Trypticon, about the small two-wheeler who had killed Yoketron. The former cyber-ninja had gotten caught in a fight between two other prisoners, and guards had assumed he had been one of the instigators and thus subdued him aptly. It was only after other prisoners had spoken up and the security tapes had been observed to discover the start of the fight that the truth had been revealed. But that wasn’t what the medic raised concerns over in the report. No, they wrote that they believed something was wrong with the young mech’s optics. They’d attempted to treat him, but when they’d gone to remove the visor in an attempt to repair wound to the young bot’s face, he had shifted away. The medic had been unable to convince the mech to let him treat him properly before it had been time to return him to his cell. Magnus paused, his brows furrowing. That was certainly odd. Though, he couldn’t bring himself to be too invested. He simply signed off on the reports and set the data pad aside.

It was hard for him to care much about the mechling who had offlined his oldest friend. He had known Yoketron since before he’d been Magnus. It had felt like a stab to the spark to learn that the Ninja Master had fallen. When he had learned it was Yoketron’s own student, the hot flash of betrayal had only fueled his rage. It had only grown when the report came in that the youngling had also stolen the protoforms. Given all the information and evidence, Ultra Magnus had not had much hesitation when it had come to stripping the youngling of his badge and casting him from the ranks of the Autobots. He’d had even less hesitation in sending him to Trypticon. He may not be a Decepticon, but a traitor of his caliber deserved no other fate. As such, the Magnus could not dredge up concern for the two-wheeler’s odd behavior. He was likely just being anti-social, as reports from the guards suggested him to be. Medics were notoriously soft-sparked, so the Magnus took that particular report with a grain of salt.

His comm. unit buzzed with an incoming call, and the Magnus accepted it. Few mechs had access to his personal comm. link. Only his friends and those on his personal team. Sure enough, Jazz’s voice came over his audials. “Ultra Magnus, sir. You got a minute? I gotta talk with you. It’s about my last mission. It’s…it’s real important, sir.”

“Jazz. Is it about your report? I finished reading it, everything seemed to be in order.”

“It’s…not about the report sir. It’s about somethin’ else that happened while I was on Lockdown’s ship. I didn’t put it in my report. I thought it was more important that I tell you first.”

That was certainly odd. Jazz was not one to ignore protocol, so why would he withhold information from his report? The young ninja was a reasonable bot, with a good helm on his shoulders. A clever youngling. Ultra Magnus didn’t think he’d keep information from the report unless it truly was important to discuss it first.

“Very well. You may come meet me in my office.”

He did not have to wait long. The youngling arrived quickly, and Magnus sent the command for the door to lock behind him. Jazz took the seat in front of his desk, and there was a deeply troubled look on his faceplates even past the visor. He was quiet for a moment, and Magnus was about to prompt him to speak, before he looked up to meet his leader’s gaze.

“Master Yoketron’s last student….did he ever graduate, sir?”

Ultra Magnus startled, a severe frown twisting his lips. “Jazz-“

But the youngling actually cut him off. “Just humor me for a mo’, sir. Please. I promise I’m goin’ somewhere with this.” he said, sounding desperate.

Magnus forced himself to stop and think. He frowned, processor turning over the question. He had always allowed Yoketron to manage the Cyber-Ninja Corps as he saw fit. He had never seen it as his place to infringe on his friend’s domain, so he had kept himself out of his business.

“I do not know.” he said carefully. “Jazz, what does this have to do with your mission?”

Jazz looked away, still looking so troubled. “I’m gettin’ there, sir.” he said. “Just bare with me, please.” He looked back at his leader. “See, I’m pretty sure he didn’t graduate. Master Yoketron only ever took one student at a time, and whenever his student completed their training and graduated, he’d host a formal celebration. It was an event open only to former students, so that the graduated cyber-ninja could meet and forge bonds with their newest brother. Cause all the cyber-ninja saw each other as brothers in arms, see. There ain’t too many of us, so whenever a new one joins the ranks it’s a big deal.” he explained. “I was Master Yoketron’s student before….well, before him.” Ultra Magnus knew who he meant. Though he didn’t know where Jazz was going with this. “I remember my ceremony. But I never attended the ceremony of another. Which meant he didn’t actually complete his trainin’.”

Now, Magnus was starting to get a bad feeling. He frowned, looking his subordinate in the optic. “Jazz. I do not understand what this has to do with your mission.”

Jazz shot him a rueful, bitter grin. Magnus was startled by the uncharacteristic expression. “I don’t think that a bot who hadn’t finished their trainin’ would have what it takes to defeat and offline Master Yoketron, steal the protoforms, and hide them so well that none of our top agents could find them. I don’t think he’d have the means to send them off planet either. He wouldn’t have had the time or resources.” Jazz met his gaze head on. “I don’t think he would have been able to do what he was convicted of.” his voice was soft as he spoke. “But I think there is someone who could do all that and who has the resources for it. An ungraduated cyber-ninja couldn’t,” Here, he reached into his subspace. Magnus’s bad feeling grew worse. “But a graduated, disgraced and exiled cyber-ninja probably could.”

And Jazz put Yoketron’s helmet on the desk in front of Ultra Magnus.

Magnus’s systems briefly stalled, and his spark felt like it froze in his chest. He lifted his gaze from his old friend’s helmet to meet Jazz’s visor.

“Yoketron’s student didn’t offline him, sir. Lockdown did.”

———

After that, Jazz had left the office. He had been called away by another duty, and Ultra Magnus had been left behind with new information, an old friend’s helmet, and regret settling heavy and hard in his tanks. His processor warred with itself, one half desperate for Jazz to be wrong, but the other knowing his was right. It was true.

An ungraduated student would not have the skill to kill his Master. Nor would he have the ability or resources to steal the protoforms. There was also the corrupted security feed, which Magnus had never insisted on de-corrupting. If he had, would it have shown Lockown’s presence at the Dojo that day as well? Even the youngling’s presence at the scene could be explained. As Yoketron’s student, the Dojo would have been his residence at the time. If he hadn’t been there at the time of the attack, then he would have returned to see the Dojo’s ruins…and his Master’s corpse. His discovery at the scene could easily be explained as little more than unfortunate timing. Which meant…

Which meant Ultra Magnus had sentenced an innocent youngling to a fate typically reserved only for the most dangerous prisoners of war and for traitors.

He saw the report from Trypticon out of the corner of his optics, and dread settled in his spark. He had had convicted a youngling of a crime he had didn’t commit, and he had spent mega-cycles paying for it. He had sentenced a youngling for a crime he didn’t commit, and he was still paying for it.

Oh Primus, what had he done?

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thechangeling · 3 years

Text

Shame

Kit reflects on his life and his sexual orientation. I guess this is kind of a character study peice but also partly headcanon.

Ok so massive trigger warnings for internalized homophobia and biphobia. Also a 2012 definition and understanding of bisexuality and gender sk sorry about that but I wanted to be accurate to the time period.

I still have a lot of internalized homophobia even in the year of our lord 2021 so I wanted to work through it in my writing I guess.

"I think you're only fighting for the sake of fighting. Because it's the only state in which you can function. The only way to stop that voice in your head from driving you insane. The one telling you that you should be ashamed of yourself for having loved him."

- Black Sails: Season 2 Episide 5

Kit could remember the first time he felt it as clear as day. The first time he felt that twinge at the pit of his stomach after being reprimanded for talking about his crush on a boy. The inward cringe that followed. That disgust others showed him, reflected back onto himself.

Self loathing became as easy as breathing at such a young age.

He could distinctly remember being in mundane first grade and being asked by a loud girl with light blond hair and crystal blue eyes who he had a crush on. Kit had seen no reason to lie at the time. He had told the girl that he had two crushes. One on a girl in their class who was shy and asocial (he had always had a thing for nerds apparently) with her jet black hair that was always full of hello kitty clips, and another on a boy in a different class who was blond like him with a round face and a giant friendly smile that Kit loved to stare at.

At the time he had no real sense of the seriousness of what he was saying. No sense that he was breaking an unspoken rule in the eyes of his classmates. But Kit would never forget the look on the girls face. The eyes that narrowed in distain, the curled lip and the way her nose crinkled in disgust as she she said, "boys arent supposed to have crushes on boys. That's gross." And the cackling laughter of his classmates surrounding him.

And the feeling that followed, the one that would become as familiar and easy as breathing.

Shame.

That pinch in his gut and the way his blood went cold like someone had just injected him with antifreeze. And then the sinking in his chest accompanied by the realization that he had done something terrible. Kit realized that day that he could never make that same mistake again. So after that day he vowed never to talk about his interest in boys ever again.

The first time he heard the word gay he was eight and it was as an insult. It wasn't directed at him but it still felt like it was. He learned to make the connection between the word and disgust and contempt. But as he grew older he became relieved, because he knew he liked girls. He had always thought they were pretty with their soft skin and nice smelling hair. This meant he wasn't gay so he was safe. He convinced himself that he had just been confused before when he was younger.

So he grew up pushing those feelings to the side and telling himself convincing lies over and over until he finally believed it, and Johnny Rook made it easy. Kit was often so preoccupied with running cons and keeping a low profile that he didn't have much time for self reflection. When he found his gaze wandering, he told himself he was just being curious or suspicious or just appreciating an attractive guy from a purely aesthetic point of view and there was absolutely nothing else to it. He kissed pretty girls whenever he had the chance and enjoyed it and relished in the fact that this meant he was safe.

From an outside perspective it may have looked like Kit Herondale was losing control of the situation.

Maybe they were right.

Tiberius Nero Blackthorn felt like a giant fuck you from the universe for believing that he could ever escape this. Or maybe he was a test. But whatever Ty was, it was a little hard to care when he was animatedly explaining the reproductive cycle of a starfish and beaming at Kit with his rare carefree smile that made Kit feel like he was drowning in bliss.

And despite everything. Despite Kit's fear, it made him want to smile too. The urge to reach out and touch Ty was like a burning in his veins, accompanied by the foolish belief that if Kit could just run his fingers through Ty's matted black hair or press his forehead against his, then everything would be alright.

Kit wasn't sure if he should be grateful or furious.

"How beautiful" had been his first thought upon seeing him. Slipping out of some deep treacherous part of him before he could stop it. Followed of course by the shame.

But he wasn't gay. It didn't matter that Ty was beautiful and captivating and made him feel like he was strong enough to fight the gods themselves given the challenge. It didn't mean anything. He was just confused.

And when Julian made a comment about Herondales having a certain type when he called Clary hot, he ignored the twisting of his insides and the painful fact that his thoughts were drifting off into forbidden territory. He pretended that he was what Julian said he was. What he was supposed to be.

When Livvy had asked him to kiss her it felt like a lifeline. A way to distract himself from all the chaos in his life as well as a way to take his mind off of Ty. A pretty girl was giving him something to cling onto, if only for a moment. He still paused to look upwards. An automatic reflex. Almost as if he was a magnet trying to snap back into it's original place.

Livvy kissed him and although it was nice and sweet, he still felt nothing. Only longing for something else.

Then he learned about Kieran and how he was basically Mark's ex boyfriend. He had been sure that Mark was dating Emma so he asked Livvy about it. She had given him a confused look and just said that Mark was bisexual.

Bisexual.

He had heard the word before, mostly to describe celebrities who wanted to make a name for themselves in the tabloids. Kit had always quickly dismissed it before he could allow himself to actually ponder the idea. It was safer to assume it wasn't actually real, because if it wasn't real then it couldn't be him. He wouldn't have to face up to the fact that an attraction to men and women sounded uncomfortably accurate and familiar.

Bisexual. It gnawed at him in his sleep. Poking at his insides and refusing to let him forget it. And so Kit clued his eyes shut and squirmed his way out if it. He thought of the way Ty's smoke coloured eyes seemed to bore into Kit's soul. The sharp angles of his cheekbones and curve of his cupid's bow. Kit thought of the way Ty had asked if he could give Kit a permanent rune and when Kit had answered sarcasticly, Ty's crestfallen expression had horrified him to the point where Kit had practically begged Ty to do it.

Anything to get that look off Ty's face. But it wasn't like that he reminded himself. It wasn't love. It wasn't love.

Jesus. Love. Just the idea of the word sent Kit into a blind panic. And there was that old familiar feeling curling around his gut. That same disgust. That shame.

Not towards Ty. No of course not. He could never feel that way about Ty, or Mark or Kieran or Helen or Aline or anyone else because they didn't deserve it.

But he did. He always did.

When Livvy was killed, Kit almost felt a sense of relief because at least now he had something else to focus on, something g else to worry about. If he was focused on protecting Ty from his own worst instincts then he wouldn't have time to get list I'm thoughts he shouldn't be having.

He knew this made him a selfish horrible person. Kit accepted it.

Kit knew this plan of Ty's was a reckless and horrible idea but he just couldn't stand to see him in pain. He also couldn't bare the thought if what might happen if he refused to help Ty. Also he was helpless in the face of Ty's pleading gaze. Deep down Kit knew that he would probably do anything for him.

He would break himself trying to put Ty back together.

It wasn't until Ty actually attempted the spell that Kit finally cracked. He couldn't let Ty go through with this. He couldn't risk it.

Why? Something inside of him pondered.

Why?

Because Kit was going to die if something happened to Ty. The spell was going to go bad and Ty was going to get hurt or killed and Kit's heart was going to be brutally ripped from his chest and it was going to be unbearable.

Because-

"I love you Ty," he breathed, hating himself instantly. "I love you."

Ty didn't respond. He didn't react, didnt even flinch. Just stared blankly at Kit.

Shame.

It was going to ruin him. It was going to swallow him whole.

Yikes that was kinda all over the place sorry.

I'm basically tagging all if my mutuals at this point. Let me know if you want me to stop tagging you. @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @irene-blacxthorn @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @anxiousbookenthusiast @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam

Also let me know if you want to be added!

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit x ty #kit herondale #twp #ty blackthorn #tw internalized homophobia #tw internalized biphobia

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visander · 3 years

Text

Promises to Keep | Ao3.

When Alec adopted a warlock, he expected that people would be watching him closely. He didn't expect the High Warlock to follow him while he was running errands.

This is my ‘Spy AU’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

Spying on a shadowhunter wasn’t exactly how Magnus intended to spend his evening but when you were the High Warlock, sometimes you found yourself doing things that you wished desperately you could pass off on someone else. Yet, there was no one to pass this off to. So, Magnus found himself dawning a glamour and following a shadowhunter around New York all evening.

See, the shadowhunter in question wasn’t just any shadowhunter. The shadowhunter was Alexander Lightwood, Head of the Institute and as of recently, caretaker to a baby who had only been discovered to be a warlock in the past week. Magnus offered to take the child as soon as the news reached him. It was part of his job after all to take any warlock children found in New York and relocate them to somewhere suitable but Alexander had declined.

He told Magnus that the child being a warlock didn’t change anything for him and that he had been caring for Max for months and he would continue to do so. Which was a lovely sentiment but a shadowhunter caring for a baby warlock? Even if Alexander himself was an abnormally strong ally to the downworld, which he was, a warlock growing up in an Institute tended to lead to problems. Malcolm had grown up in an Institute and that story had gone sideways, even if it had taken years for it to do so. Magnus wasn’t looking for a repeat of that situation with this tiny new warlock.

Now, Magnus liked Alexander and he was sure that the man had the best intentions but the child in his care being a warlock undoubtedly changed things, if not for him then for the people around him. Magnus was spying on Alec to make sure the child was being cared for and to make sure that none of Alec’s colleagues took it upon themselves to fix the warlock problem on their own. If he had any reason to think the child didn’t belong in Alec’s care, it was his duty to rectify the situation.

Magnus would feel bad about invading Alec’s privacy, if there was not a child involved. Because there was, Magnus was entirely guiltless as he followed behind Alec into the city. Alec had left the Institute a few minutes earlier with a bundle of blue skin curled onto his chest, attached rather carefully with a piece of fabric that Magnus had never quite understood how to wrap. Alec carried a small bag with him and even from where he was standing, Magnus could see a bottle peeking out of the zipper.

Magnus found himself a little impressed. Clearly, Alec was prepared but that didn’t exactly change anything. Even well prepared shadowhunters could fail, especially when they were doing something as impossible as raising a baby warlock.

The baby blabbered happily against Alec’s chest as he walked and Alec cooed softly to him, hushing quiet tender words that Magnus was too far away to hear. If it warmed his heart a little - well, no one needed to know that and it was certainly not something Magnus was going to be telling anyone.

Alec’s walk took them to a small store, where Alec bought baby food and other essentials that Magnus supposed the Institute did not stock for him. Outside, Alec took a moment to carefully put everything into the bag he was carrying. The food went into a specific pocket, the diapers into another, until everything was put away carefully and neatly.

The baby, Max as Alec had named him, chewed on the pacifier Alec had given him and watched what Alec was doing with a wide eyed interest that Magnus only associated with babies. When Alec finished, he shifted to push the bag onto his back, pull the baby closer and head off again. Magnus had expected Alec to go back to the Institute but he didn’t. Instead, he started walking towards a small park that Magnus had always been particularly fond of.

Magnus had never thought of shadowhunters enjoying simple pleasures like parks and he found it a little hard to believe that was where Alec was going but when they reached the park, Alec did stop. He settled at the base of a tree after peering around for a contemplative moment. He stretched out a small blanket next to him and then, he started to unwrap Max from his chest.

The moment Alec lifted the baby off him, the baby’s legs started kicking through the air at the newfound freedom he had. Alec laid the gleefully child onto the blanket next to him and then, he slipped a blade out of his back pocket and placed it down carefully on the opposite side of him, far out of the baby's reach. The discordance of seeing a deadly weapon on one of Alec’s sides and a baby on the other almost made Magnus laugh but Magnus wasn’t sure what else he was expecting from a shadowhunter.

Magnus was about to settle against a tree or decide to leave Alec to the privacy he thought he had for the rest of the night when Alec spoke without looking over.

“You can come sit, if you’d like,” Alec murmured.

Magnus froze and it took him too long of a moment to realize that Alec was in fact talking to him. He had to be. There was no one else in the park, besides the baby who he could not be referring to. Magnus shifted uncomfortably as Alec lifted his eyes and peered towards Magnus at last.

Magnus expected him to look angry but there was something in his eyes that was subdued and just a little amused. Alec held his hand idly over the baby, wiggling his fingers as Max reached his blue hands up to try to contain Alec’s fingers in his tiny grasp.

Magnus hesitantly took a step forward and when Alec said nothing further, Magnus took a few more steps until he was only a few feet away from the pair he’d been following. “I’m sorry to have invaded your privacy,” Magnus said finally. He and Alec had a strong professional relationship up until this point and if this ruined it… well, that would hardly be productive at all and it would certainly make it a lot harder for Magnus to keep an eye on Max.

But Alec didn’t seem exceptionally concerned by what Magnus had been doing. Instead, he waved his free hand vaguely in Magnus’ direction. “It’s fine. Come sit,” Alec said again, nodding his head to the spot across from Max, pointedly away from the weapon Alec had laid on the ground.

Knowing now that Alec had known he was there, Magnus wondered if he’d put the weapon down to make him more comfortable. Magnus didn’t ask. Instead, he walked around Alec and settled to the ground, watching Alec idly play with the baby who seemed so distracted by Alec’s hand that he hardly noticed Magnus’ arrival.

“I was trying to check on- '' Magnus had been about to go on and explain that he’d only been trying to keep an eye on Max, who was a warlock in his jurisdiction but Alec made a soft noise and Magnus fell silent before he could finish his sentence.

“I know what you were doing.” Alec looked up at Magnus and offered him a soft, bittersweet smile. “I expected someone to be checking up on us. Though, I didn’t quite expect to be followed running errands.”

Magnus swallowed a little uncomfortably. He wasn't embarrassed to have been following Alec. It was his job. He was making sure the child in his care was being cared for, something that was of grave concern in this odd situation. He was a little embarrassed to have been caught so easily and not even have known it but with a shadowhunter, Magnus wasn’t really sure what he expected.

“Well, I can’t exactly watch you while you’re in the Institute. My spying options were a bit limited.”

Alec shrugged. He had let Max grab his hand at last and the baby was happily chewing on one of Alec’s fingers. “You could,” Alec said simply. “You have the clearance to come in whenever you’d like. I don’t mind if you want to come watch.”

Magnus fell silent at that. Finally, he cocked his head, “I don’t know many people who would be so welcoming at the prospect of being observed.”

Alec lifted his eyes up to meet Magnus’ again and when he smiled this time, there was some genuine amusement on his face. “I don’t know many shadowhunters who adopt a warlock baby.” Again, Alec shrugged as he looked back down to the baby still clutching his hand. “I get why your people might be concerned. I’d rather you stop in and be able to assure everyone that I’m caring for my child.”

“Your child?” Magnus questioned. Magnus knew Alec’s intentions to keep the child but Magnus still found it hard to believe that a shadowhunter would so willingly accept a child into his life that was not a shadowhunter like they’d thought when they’d first found the baby on the steps of the Academy months before.

“My child,” Alec confirmed. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his tone and Magnus found himself pressing his lips to suppress the small smile that had threatened to come across his face.

“Well, perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow morning. If you’re not incredibly busy?”

Alec looked up and Magnus could see instantly that he was relieved. It took a second for Magnus to think over the conversation they’d just had and see why. Magnus’ question of Alec’s wording, to Alec, might not have seemed like an inquiry into Alec’s intentions like Magnus had meant it. It might have seemed like an attack on Alec’s claim on this child.

Alec had expected Magnus to try and take the baby, Magnus realized. He’d thought Magnus was going to challenge him and demand that he take the child to someone more suited to care for him.

“You can come even if I’m busy,” Alec insisted. “When I’m working, he stays with my siblings but you can come anyway. I’ll tell them to let you in.”

Magnus nodded and he could have left it at that but there was something about the hopeful, earnest way that Alec spoke that made Magnus frown. “I hope you’re not offended if I take you up on that,” Magnus said finally.

“Of course not,” Alec said instantly.

Magnus frowned a bit deeper. “Your situation is a little… unorthodox but if you are caring for him, I don’t see any reason why that would be a problem,” Magnus said at last. Truthfully, there were some who thought Magnus should go and take the child anyway. He would be well within his right to and Alec would be able to do nothing about it.

Some thought Magnus should do so before Alec could raise a warlock to do the Institute’s bidding. Some who had met Alec and like Magnus, had a professional respect for him, admired his intentions but still thought Magnus should take the child away. An Institute was not a kind place for a baby warlock and Magnus would be lying if he said that wasn’t a concern for him still but Magnus didn’t think taking the child away would be best.

Even if Magnus did take the child, finding someone to care for a young warlock was not easy. Few warlocks wanted the task themselves and few people besides a warlock could handle the uncontrollable magic that came with a warlock who was so small. It might not be the best situation but as long as Alec stepped in the moment any of his people thought it appropriate to bother the boy, Magnus didn’t really see a problem with it.

The Institute was warded and protected. If it wasn’t for the shadowhunters themselves, it might be one of the best places for the small warlock to be.

At his words, Alec’s hand fell still as the tiny baby continued to play with his fingers gleefully. “Lorenzo Rey doesn’t think I should be able to keep him,” Alec said simply.

Magnus almost scoffed. “It’s not up to Lorenzo to make that decision,” Magnus assured him quickly. “Lorenzo hasn’t been in New York long anyway. He’s not very well acquainted with you or your family. If he knew you a bit more, he might feel otherwise.” Truthfully, Magnus doubted that Lorenzo would feel otherwise. Lorenzo was an aggravating pest of a man and he’d probably protest to a warlock being cared for by a shadowhunter regardless of how progressive said shadowhunter was but Magnus didn’t think it would be helpful for him to tell Alec this.

“I’m not worried about Lorenzo specifically but I’d just like your people to know that I’m taking care of him.”

Magnus processed that for a moment before he spoke. Even knowing Alec, Magnus found himself a bit surprised by that sentiment. He didn’t know many shadowhunters who would be worried about what the warlock population thought about anything they did, especially when Magnus had already assured Alec that the child would stay in his care, unless Magnus was given a reason to think he shouldn’t.

“Show me that you’re taking care of him and I will tell them,” Magnus promised.

A moment later, Magnus rose to his feet, brushed his pants off and moved to turn away, intent on meeting Alec the next morning, like he’d said he would. It was only when Magnus had taken a few steps that Alec called out to him, making Magnus pause and turn back to look.

Alec had pulled the baby into his lap and was in the process of shoving the blanket back into the bag with one hand as he cradled the baby tenderly in the other. When Magnus looked back at him, Alec smiled soft and grateful. “Thank you,” he said. “I will take care of him,” Alec assured.

Magnus smiled himself and nodded. Magnus still had his doubts. One rather personal meeting with a charming shadowhunter who made grand promises was not enough for Magnus to feel assured of anything. Alec might think he could do this now, until the child’s magic started to manifest fully for the first time. Alec might think he could do this until his people started to protest at the presence of a warlock who was no longer a baby in their Institute.

Alec might just be lying to him. It wouldn’t be the first time a shadowhunter had hid their true intentions from Magnus but beyond his reasoning, Magnus found himself hoping that Alec meant it. He found himself hoping that Alec did intend to care for the baby like it was his own.

Alec would be a good father and Magnus knew more than most how much warlocks deserved and rarely got someone like that in their lives.

Magnus walked away and he hoped that Alec Lightwood would not come to disappoint him.

#shadowhunters #insects #max lightwood bane #Alec Lightwood #Magnus Bane #fluff

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lilacpotter · 3 years

Note

Lillaaaccc!!!! Your layout is soo pretty 😭😭 I love the purple so much and thr header with planets and stars fhdjsjs 🥺🥺

Imma in love 😌💕

Also.. pls post some drabble 😭😭 I miss reading your work. Pls. Short drabble would work too. I smile sooo much when I read your drabbles fjdjd 😭😭

Pls 👉🏼👈🏼

Okay bye. Love you 😌💕

Broooo!! First of all, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY DHARAA!! omgg ❤

And thank youuuUuU. <333

I’m so fucking sorry I’m this late but I got it finally done. And pleassseee, take this more than 8k words “drabble” as your birthday gifttt!! I’m not sure how it really is but I hope it’s gooddd aah. I had been writing and rewriting it for the past three days djhsfsf 😫😹

Here we gooo <3:-

5 and 7

“What if I stole your crown right now?”

Those were the last words little Isak got to hear before prince Even snatched the golden crown with a mischievous grin and started running away. He chased after him, screaming in agony. He was dramatic, yes, so what? He was five and he could throw a tantrum if he wanted to. And also, don’t you dare call him little. He was big for his age and smart too.

He sped up his pace, trying to run as fast as he could in this thorny garden with his little prince feet, his golden curls tossing here and there on his head. But Even was taller and faster than him, so he outran Isak within no time with his giraffe legs, and Isak came to a stop somewhere in the middle, panting and falling onto the grass backward with a dramatic sigh. He laid there star-fished and watched the sky instead for a while.

It was autumn and the leaves were falling on his small face and it was warm and Even was back here in Oslo after a whole year, at the Valtersen palace. Even’s parents ruled a small country named Phitogin in the east side, and even if it wasn’t nearly as big as Norsk was, they were really close to Isak’s parents since their own childhood. So, they always paid a visit to Oslo every year during autumn and that was the only time Isak ever got to see Even and play with him and make sandcastles and blanket forts.

He squinted up his eyes at the bright sun, as if commanding it to shine a bit lesser, but of course, that wasn’t possible. He knew the sun was way bigger than earth and way hotter than the royal soup that was served to him whenever he fell sick. He wouldn’t dare mess with the sun.

He was about to put a hand over his face to shield himself instead, surrender to the great sun, when a dark shadow blocked the light above him.

“Hello, my little prince,” Even was grinning down at him mischievously, his hands behind his back.

Isak narrowed his eyes and sat up straight. “Where is my crown?” he demanded.

“Who knows?” Even shrugged, still keeping his hands behind himself. And Isak knew he was hiding the crown there.

So he pounced up and tried to grab Even by the shirt, but Even was quicker because he moved away in time.

“Give it back to me!” Isak yelled, jumping again. Even grinned wider, dodging him.

“No, little prince. You will ruin my hard work if you see it.”

“Don’t call me that,” Isak said, offended. “I am not little!”

Even smirked. “Oh yes, you are. You are very little, tiny. Look, you are even smaller than me!” And then he burst out laughing.

“I am not!!” Isak glared at him. He was not little. So he launched himself on top of Even to attack him. They both wrestled for a few minutes furiously, punching each other’s stomachs before falling to the ground on top of each other, breathing heavily.

When Isak opened his green eyes back up again Even was hovering above him, putting his crown back on his head quietly. Isak frowned and moved his hands up to touch the crown and see for himself what Even had done to it, but he didn’t let him and instead removed the crown again.

“Even, show me my crown!” Isak complained, reaching up.

“No, you will ruin it!” Even refused, shaking his head.

Isak grew more suspicious, so with narrowed eyes, he warned Even, “If you broke it or put tiny worms on top of it then I am not going to share my space blanket with you tonight.” He poked his little finger into Even’s chest to tell him how serious he was being.

Both of them knew how much Isak loved his space blanket and how much he loved sharing it with Even and the people he liked. If Isak refused to share it with anyone then it meant he didn’t like them enough.

Even, instead of being scared of Isak’s warning, grinned back at him again, all teeth and crinkles.

“Oh no, little prince. I wouldn’t dare break it or do anything such horrendous to your precious crown!” He said, widening his eyes dramatically.

Isak squinted his eyes at him. “Really?”

Even nodded furiously before slowly bringing his hands to the front, holding Isak’s golden crown in between his palms. It was shining in the afternoon sun as usual, too bright and too lustrous, but as Isak leaned in a bit nearer he noticed designs of pretty flowers all over it. Even had doodled on his crown.

Isak took his crown gently before looking at all the doodles. There were so many colourful flowers and they were all really pretty. There was one of Isak sitting on a throne, and another one of Adolph, their pet dog, and another one of Isak and Even on the bed watching the stars above them. There were just so many of them and they made the crown look so much better!

Isak was smiling without even knowing, his heart was flying, but Even probably had noticed it because he suddenly asked, “Do you like it?”

Isak could hear the smile in his voice. So, he morphed his face back, trying to look more annoyed than pleased, and glared at Even.

“No, I hate it! You ruined my crown, Even.” He said to his face trying to sound furious.

But Even grinned at him instead. “Oh really? Then why is there a smile on your face?”

Isak widened his eyes, turning red. “What? No there isn’t!” he protested, but he couldn’t stop smiling. And soon within no time Even laughing loudly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a bad liar!” He giggled.

Isak rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Shut up! I am leaving.” He said, before turning away and stomping dramatically to the castle.

“Of course you love what I did to your crown, little prince. I do too. I’ll make you more of these the next time we meet!” He heard Even shout from behind him loudly and Isak ducked his head, picked up a tiny rock, and threw it back at Even, missing him narrowly.

7 and 9

“Ugh, why do we always have to sleep together whenever you visit me? Why can’t you sleep in your own separate room?” Isak complained loudly to the dark, sighing when he got no reply.

So, he shuffled closer and pushed Even’s chest. “Evennnnnn!” he whined when the older boy let out another soft snore and pulled Isak’s blanket much tighter around himself.

“Hmph,” Isak sighed in defeat before slumping back and resorted to just staring at the dark instead when Even finally spoke.

“Maybe it’s because they think you are too little to be sleeping on your own at night.” There was too much sarcasm in his voice and Isak turned to him in surprise and suspicion.

“You were awake?!” He screamed in offense.

Even grinned at him in the dark, his teeth shining bright. “Did you actually think I had been sleeping this whole time?!”

Isak couldn’t believe him. “Oh my god,”

“Yes, and what’s wrong with me sleeping here?” said Even, shuffling closer to Isak noisily.

“Nothing is wrong.” Isak huffed. “You just keep stealing my blanket and I get cold!”

Even shuffled much closer until he was almost hugging Isak from the side. “Oh, I’m really sorry about that, your grace. But look! Sleeping together is not really that bad because you get to cuddle me and I’m much warmer than your precious blanket.” Even said, wrapping Isak’s little body with his arms and pulling the younger boy into himself.

Isak squirmed against him, groaning. “Ugh, go away!”

“Never in a million years,” Even mumbled, shoving his face on top of Isak’s fluff of curls. They were a tangle of skinny limbs.

“ugh,”

Isak tried moving away but he was failing so hard at it. So he gave up a while later and slumped against Even’s chest, feeling his chest rise and fall back as he breathed. He felt oddly at peace a while later and drifted into sleep easily. The blanket lay forgotten by the corner of the bed.

11 and 13

“What if we sneaked into the kitchen right now?” Even suddenly said, sounding excited.

Isak groaned at him. “No way. We won’t be sneaking out to the kitchen right now in the middle of the night.”

“But we will!”

“We won’t,”

He saw Even pout at him in the dark. He had gotten a new haircut and he looked ridiculous and although it shouldn’t have bothered Isak, it did. He couldn’t get to bury his fingers into those long blonde strands of hair from now on.

“But I’m hungry,” Even mumbled. “Pleaseeee, let’s go.”

Isak shook his head. “No one is hungry at night, Even. Stop making things up.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are?”

But Even wasn’t listening. He got up and already started pulling Isak up by his hands. Isak let out a loud groan before giving in and following the older boy out of the room.

It was dark outside and so they tip-toed quietly down the stairs. At one point they were almost caught when a guard heard Even’s stomach growling in hunger. They giggled to themselves and sneaked through the corridors and halls until they finally reached the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, they both started shoving as many food items as they could in their pockets. Even tried carrying half-eaten raspberry cake from the day before but he slipped and ruined it instead. Isak laughed out so loud that he was sure he had woken someone up but thank god no one stopped them.

It was chaos. But they were finally done, looking more chubbier and puffed up because of all those food stuffed in their pockets. They were giggling silently as they walked back out of the kitchen when they stopped dead as they spotted a boy of about Isak’s age staring at them in shock.

It was Magnus. He was the butler’s son.

13 and 15

“Do you think any one of them will like me?” Magnus asked, sitting beside Isak and eating large ice cream.

Isak wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying because his eyes were trained on Even. Even had gotten much taller recently and his hair was longer and he looked even more prettier. Shit. No, not pretty. He looked good. But Isak couldn’t help but think it was such an understatement. Even had even started getting a bit of muscle.

Isak watched him smile and beam and flirt with other girls in the castle hall. A weird kind of jealousy was stemming up in his body and he had no idea why. It was weird and new and made him feel all jittery.

“They look so pretty, don’t they?” Magnus was saying beside him.

Isak nodded absently. Yes, he is really pretty.

“I have never even talked to them, forget about touching them. Their skin looks so soft, Isak. I just want to touch them once. Isak, are you even listening?”

Magnus’s voice snapped Isak out of his thoughts and he blushed. “Uh, what?”

“The girls!” Magnus whined, nodding over to the bunch of girls who all looked way too interested in what Even had to say. Isak hated them. “Aren’t they beautiful? Why are girls so pretty?”

Isak bit his lip and nodded. “Even, uh, boys are pretty sometimes, I think.” He said slowly before he realised what he had just said and his heart sped up. Oh no.

Magnus hummed beside him, considering. “True. Even is really pretty if I’m being honest.” He stated it as a fact and Isak snapped his head up to look at him.

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?” Magnus laughed in confusion. “Even is pretty. That’s why girls love talking to him, isn’t it?”

Isak’s mouth was parted slightly. He just stared at Magnus for a few seconds before looking down, his cheeks flaming. “I guess so, yeah, um, Even is really pretty.”

“I told you!” Magnus hollered in joy. “I want to be pretty too. So girls would want to talk to me too. Don’t you think?”

Isak nodded again, biting his lip.

“I’m really pretty, huh?” Even’s voice came over and Isak looked up to see that he was walking over to them both. Oh, God. Had he heard what Isak had just said? It was going to be bad.

Isak flipped him off instead of saying anything and that earned him an ‘Oyy’ from a very surprised and an amused Even.

“We have already started learning this kind of things, I see.” He nodded over to Isak’s middle finger which was still sticking out in his direction.

“Magnus taught me.” Isak shrugged and then watched Magnus hug Even tightly for a moment before letting him go.

“We were just talking about how pretty you are, bro.” Magnus said, looking excited and Isak blushed again. Gosh, Magnus. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth?

Even looked at Isak with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, really? Yeah, I did hear the prince say how pretty I am. It’s an honour for me really.” He smirked and Isak wanted to combust right then and there. “You should start calling me ‘pretty prince’ from now on then, Issy. It’s a nice name, isn’t it? Just like yours is, little prince.”

“Why are you such a dick?” Isak said, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy.

Even laughed out loud and when Isak flipped him off again, Even blew him a kiss instead went back to join the girls, this time taking a very excited Magnus along with him, leaving Isak feeling all flustered.

Gosh, why was he feeling like this recently? Isak did not like it. It was weird and just strange. He had never felt like this around Even before. And the fact that recently most of his dreams consisted only of Even touching him in weird places was also not helping things at all.

What the hell was really happening?

14 and 16

“Even, are you even listening?!” Isak said tiredly for the fourth time that day, but Even still kept staring blankly in the opposite direction.

So Isak reached his hand out that held his wooden sword and poked Even in the stomach. “Asshole!”

At that finally, Even looked up at him in surprise.

“Should I tell the queen you have started swearing nowadays? Hmm?” He broke into a mischievous grin.

Isak sighed exhaustedly. “We are learning to sword fight and you keep zoning out all the time! What’s up with you? Stop thinking of your girlfriend all the time.” He said, spitting the word ‘girlfriend’ out with as much spite as he could muster. Yes, he was frustrated and annoyed and pissed right now, so what?

Even had gotten himself a girlfriend two months back. Princess Sonja of the realm of Sweden. And she was all he ever talked about. Of course, Isak had a right to be pissed.

Even rolled his eyes this time. “I am not thinking of Sonja, excuse me. I’m listening.”

“No you are not!” Isak countered back, waving his wooden sword around.

“I am! I am not thinking of her, Issy, now come on, let’s practice.”

“Yes, you are!” Isak said back, pausing his practice entirely. “You are always thinking of Sonja. You always spend your time with her, kissing her and complimenting her and telling her she looks good and I bet you wouldn’t sleep in my room anymore if your mum allowed you to sleep along with Sonja! Of course, she is always on your mind. You forgot about me. It’s as if I don’t even exist to you! And now you can’t even practice sword fighting with me because you are always only thinking of her.”

He exhaled deeply after his outburst, and he knew there were tears in his eyes, hot, burning tears. but he was keeping them at bay from falling down and making him look weak. He wasn’t weak. Even was watching him back with wide eyes, his mouth falling open slightly.

“That’s not true.” He whispered finally, after a beat. “I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you, Is.”

His eyes were blue, blue, blue.

Isak stared into them for a few seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore and had to turn away. His heart broke a little inside. He never thought hearts could break, he had always believed that was all bullshit. But apparently, it was true.

Oh gosh, he was being super emotional again. So he wiped his tears and tried to shed off his sad feelings. He wasn’t weak.

“Doesn’t matter. I am just gonna practice and you can just keep thinking about your pretty girlfriend.” He mumbled before swinging his sword onto the big loaf of meat hanging in front of him.

He gave it a couple more shoves. Up and down. Right and left. Hard and quick. He hit the sack again and again, at various spots, from various angles, with various tricks and moves. It was hard, but he knew it was worth it. If he was going to be a king someday, then he had to be ready.

Even kept standing beside him, and Isak hated that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t not pay attention to Even. Had he zoned out again while standing there? Thinking of Sonja?

But then Even spoke and Isak groaned, “What if we ditched dinner and went to the garden right now?”

Isak frowned deeply. “No way, I’m not coming.”

“Yes, you are.” Even smirked before walking up to him and snatching the wooden sword and throwing it to a pile on the corner.

No way. Isak was not going to agree to him this time.

Isak found himself laying on the green grassy ground and staring up at the orange-hued sky half an hour later. His head was on Even’s lap and Even was weaving his long fingers through his sweaty curls.

“Stop doing that. I smell gross and I’m sweaty.” Isak mumbled when Even started running his fingers all over Isak’s face. It tickled him so he laughed.

“You look so beautiful when you laugh,” Even said softly, staring down into his eyes and cupping his jaw.

“Ugh, stop,” Isak rolled his eyes, but he was blushing.

“Never, not in a million years.”

Isak smelled in the flowers’ scent and relaxed. “I can’t believe I am actually here with my head on your fucking lap of all places.” He scoffed quietly.

Even chuckled from behind him. But he was too busy to reply apparently because he was ruffling around the garden, plucking something off. Isak couldn’t see properly so he watched the sky again, at the birds and the clouds. Everything was going good.

When he felt something on his head a while later he looked up at Even, silently asking him what it was.

“I made you a flower crown,” Even said simply, resuming to arrange it on Isak’s head properly.

“But flowers are for girls. Not for boys. You should keep it on Sonja’s head instead.” Isak mumbled.

Even scoffed from above him. “There is no such rule like that. Who’s teaching you all these?” He sounded truly disappointed.

Isak shrugged, his shoulders shaking Isak’s legs beneath them. “The royal teachers? People? Isn’t it how it always is?”

Even made a small sound, disagreeing with what Isak had just said. “Flowers are for everyone, Isak. For boys, for girls, for animals, and for everyone and everything, okay? There is no such thing as only meant for girls, or only meant for boys. You can do whatever you want. Stop believing this stuff you hear, Isak. You have always loved flowers, what happened to you now?”

Isak shrugged again, his heart felt heavy. He knew he loved flowers even now. He had always loved them. But mamma had always told him to not like girly things, that he was a boy and that he was supposed to like wars and horses and rough things, not things that are soft and pretty. He wasn’t a girl.

“Do you really think it’s okay if I like flowers?” He asked, his voice small.

Even sighed quietly above him and then he bent down slowly before kissing Isak’s forehead. Isak inhaled sharply at that.

“You are allowed to like whatever you want, okay? No one makes rules here, Is. Stop believing what others are telling you to do. You are my valiant prince and you will be a great king. A great king does not fear liking what he likes.” Even murmured to him, weaving through his curls again. “A great king is not afraid to be himself. Will you be a great king for me, Isak?”

“For you?” Isak licked his lips.

“Yes, for me.”

“Yes. I would do anything for you.” Isak admitted out loud, and he was surprised by his own boldness.

He heard Even smile when he said. “So would I,”

Isak blushed at that and ducked his gaze down, away from Even’s face. And watched the early stars. He loved spending time like this with Even. He hadn’t done this in so long. It felt good that Isak could take his mind off Sonja for a while.

“You look really pretty in a flower crown, do you know?” Even hummed from above him.

He retreated his hand back from his hair and cupped Isak’s jaw again, tilting his head so that he could look into his eyes. “You are so pretty,” he said, making Isak blush again.

“Ugh, fuck off,”

“What? I’m not lying. You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen,” Even said, widening his eyes in honesty but he was also grinning.

Isak wanted to punch him. “Even more prettier than Sonja?” He asked instead, averting his gaze away from Even’s intense gaze. He regretted it the moment it was out of his mouth. God, Isak.

He had no idea how long it was, but when they finally got up from there and got back to the castle, it was completely dark. The only thing that was shining were the moon, stars, and Even’s eyes.

Isak showered and got dressed in the softest pajamas before getting into his bed and reading some thick book that he had found in the library.

He wasn’t really expecting anything when Even finally climbed into his bed quietly an hour later and it was dark, pitch black. Isak pretended to be asleep, so he snored softly, and it also helped that he was turned away from Even.

Even tossed and turned around for a while, before cuddling Isak from the back. Isak tensed up a little in his hands before he melted against Even’s chest. Why was he being this tense? They did this all the time. So he leaned back and let Even cuddle him instead. It felt really good, and he felt warm and his eyes started fluttering on their own in no time. He wasn’t expecting anything even when he was just drifting into his sleep slowly, but then he heard Even softly murmur against his ear, “Even prettier than Sonja.”

It almost brought him out of his sleepy daze. Almost.

16 and 18

“Shut up,”

“What do you mean, ‘shut up,’ I’m just trying to fix your bangs. You look pretty when you are grumpy, you know?”

“Shut up!”

“Alright, but don’t you think it will be a bit too much if I pulled my shirt up right here at the hall?”

“Oh my god!”

“All the girls would start swooning at me because I am so hot- ouch!”

Isak punched him in the stomach before hastily pulling his hand back and smiling at the guests. Even watched him with wide eyes by his side.

“You don’t think I’m hot?!” He whispered in outrage. Isak didn’t give him the satisfaction of a grumpy snarky reply.

They were both in costly suits, standing at one side of the hall and greeting all the guests awkwardly. It was the royal ball and somehow people from many other countries visited here to have a nice time. Although most of them called him the ‘little prince Isak,” whenever they greeted him. Fuck you, he was not little anymore.

There was also this princess Emma who seemed way too fond of Isak because she kept looking over to him every now and then before turning away shyly.

Isak wasn’t fond of her.

“I can’t believe you just punched a prince in the stomach.” Even mumbled by his side.

Isak rolled his eyes at him. “I am a prince too.”

Even reached his hand out again and started fixing Isak’s collar with a concentrated look. “Yes you are, little prince.”

“ugh, stop,” Isak groaned.

“Never,”

“Hey guys!” It was Magnus, holding a tray of drinks and serving it to everyone. He looked adorable in his outfit.

“Hey, Mags! My bro.” Even greeted cheerily before hugging Magnus tightly.

Isak smiled at them both and took a drink off the tray. Magnus looked pleased to see two people he knew after all that crowd of new, strange, rich people.

“Bros, just look at all those princesses!” He said excitedly, leaning in and waving a hand over to the bunch of pretty girls with crowns on their forehead. They were all eyeing Isak and Even hungrily and Isak wished he could escape. But his mamma and papa were watching him, so he couldn’t do that. “They are all just eating you with their eyes. Isak, man, what are you waiting for?! Go get one of them!” Magnus hollered.

“Nah, Mags. Not yet.” Isak said, sipping his drink.

“What do you mean ‘not yet’, bro?! They all look so pretty though! Go get some, and tell me how it went.” Magnus demanded.

Before Isak could reply, Even jumped in. “Isak is waiting for the right moment to score with Princess Emma, Mags. That’s why,”

Magnus looked around and when he spotted Emma, his eyes went wide and mischievous. He wiggled his eyebrows at Isak. “Oooh. Princess Emma, Issy?”

Isak‘s jaw tightened a little but he nodded slowly. Emma caught his eyes just then and he waved back to her awkwardly. She looked pleased with that gesture while the remaining princesses were scowling at her.

“Fuck, man. She looks so into you. What are you waiting for? Go get it or she will go for me instead if you wait any longer!” Magnus yelled into his ear loudly before leaving them both to serve other guests.

Isak swallowed and looked up at Even, who was gazing back at him.

“I am gonna go get her then,” he said, fixing his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” Even said instead, helping him fix his shirt. He tucked Isak’s shirt tightly into his dark pants making him squirm under his touch.

“Yes, but I want to.” Isak lied.

“Don’t lie, Issy. Do you even like her?” Even frowned at him, keeping a hand on the small of his back.

“I’m not lying!” Isak lied. “I really like her. She is very pretty.” And then he shrugged himself off from Even’s touch and headed over to Emma.

An hour later, he found himself trying to dance with princess Emma. It was tough because they were both only teens and none of them knew how to dance or where to put their hands so they kept stomping each other’s feet instead. It was awkward, to say the least. But Emma didn’t seem to mind so much, she giggled and kissed his cheek and touched his hair, so Isak smiled back at her and tried his best because both his mamma and papa were watching and they looked really happy and proud of him. He was going to be the heir to the throne, after all, it was his duty to form strong bonds with other country rulers, and what was a better way than stealing their daughter’s hearts.

So, Isak danced and flirted and got drinks for Emma wishing there was another better way.

When they both were done, Isak headed out to the corridor to breathe in a bit of air and hoping to get away from Emma for a bit, but she found him again within no time. That girl really was too much. Isak felt like she was breathing down his neck every time she got too close to him. She was way too loud and way too giggly and kept falling all over Isak and touching him everywhere she could.

He wanted to combust right then and there. But Even appeared beside him just then like a knight in shining armour.

“You both are having a good time, I see,” he grinned at them both, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We are! Prince Isak is really charming.” Emma giggled from where she had both her hands wrapped around Isak’s neck.

Isak blushed because for some reason he couldn’t stand Even watching him like this.

“What if I do something stupid to save your ass from princess Emma right now?” Even leaned in, whispering into Isak’s ear so quietly that only he could hear.

Isak widened his eyes at him at that, then shook his head minutely saying ‘no,’ but Even just shrugged and grinned back at Emma.

Oh god.

“Oh, he really is very charming. No doubt.” Even agreed, sipping on his drink and leaning suavely against the wall. “Girls all over the city have a massive crush on him, you know.”

Isak looked over to Even with wide eyes. But Even wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Emma.

“Oh,” Emma said, her voice was filled with surprise. “Really?”

Even hummed. “Yes, most of those girls are even ready to jump in to marry Isak if he asks them. They are that gone for him. He really charms them all well.”

Isak was barely understanding what Even was on about. This was totally not true.

“Charms them? What do you mean?” Emma asked, sounding suspicious.

Even blinked once and averted his gaze to Isak’s once, before looking back at Emma in amusement. A smile playing on his lips.

“You haven’t heard? He charms them all so well that many of them try seducing him right then and there. He says he refuses them but I know it’s a lie. Why would he refuse them when he just flirted with all of them, right? You can only imagine what goes on between him and all the girls over the city.” Even was full-on grinning now and Isak was blushing furiously even though none of it was true. “No wonder every girl is crazy for him.”

He then leaned in and whispered into Emma’s ear, “I heard he is also dating one of them in secret.”

What the fucking fuck.

“Shut up, that’s not-“

“-oh my god, really?” Emma interrupted Isak, her eyes wide as she looked up at Isak. She looked shocked.

“Wha- no! No, of course not-“

“Look, he is lying again.” Even said, smirking.

Emma removed her hands from Isak’s neck slowly and took a step back, making space between them. Isak felt like he could finally breathe.

“I- wow- I just uh, I am sorry my prince,” she cracked a laugh that sounded more broken than anything else. “I didn’t know you had someone. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you this way-“

“-Emma, just don’t believe Even. He is an idiot. I’m not seeing anyone else.” Isak tried telling her, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“What? Oh, it’s okay, my prince. I don’t really care, but uh, I have some work, I’ll just leave I guess. Have a good time with uh, your secret lover.” Her face was comical as she excused herself from them both.

He watched her retreating back with his jaw hung open.

And Even had the audacity to speak. “You are seeing someone in secret? I’m hurt, Isak.”

“You fucking asshole.” Isak hissed at Even once Emma was gone.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t said that yet,” Even hummed, smiling.

“What’d you do that for?” Isak cried.

Even just shrugged at him. “Because you looked like you need help. Besides, that poor girl is gonna get nightmares of you every time she sees any other girl in the city. And you are mine so sorry, I can’t share you with anyone else.” He winked. He fucking winked.

“That was so fucking bad, Ev. I swear to god.” Isak groaned. “Ugh, I hate you so much right now.”

“No, you don’t. I saved you from a very clingy monster dressed like a princess.”

“Fucking hell, I am not talking to you again. I really liked her.”

Even raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You liked her?”

“Yes. Why? Don’t you think I can’t like girls?” Isak said defensively, furrowing his brows.

Even only sighed at him. “No, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Don’t call me a baby. Then what, Even? Do you think only you are allowed to get a girlfriend but not me? That’s fucked up.” Isak spat, annoyed.

“No- fuck, I’m sorry, Isak.” Even’s eyes were wide, and he looked like he was really sorry. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Isak stared at him for a beat or two before turning away. “Whatever. Go fucking enjoy with your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

He knew he had over-reacted as he fell on top of his king-sized bed that night. He and Even weren’t sleeping together anymore and Even had gotten his own big room. He couldn’t even get the point of making them both sleep together for all these years only to separate them now.

He was regretting his words and his reaction right now and was thinking of just sneaking into Even’s room to apologize to him when he heard loud familiar voices from his right wall. It was Even and Sonja. They were sleeping together now?

But then he started hearing words and curses and he knew they were arguing. Even had invited Sonja over here as well last week and Isak hated watching her stroll around arm-in-arm with Even day and night as if she owned him. He hated it, and he hated everything that wasn’t Even these days.

Another string of arguments pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused on that now. They were clearly arguing, fighting even. He had never heard Even yell like this at anyone, but Sonja’s voice was even louder. They were having issues, and Isak had no idea about what.

A few minutes after the continuous bickering, someone slammed something hard onto the ground, and then there was this loud sound of a door shutting close. Isak knew it was over and someone had stormed out.

What was happening?

Were they breaking up..?

Isak’s heart was beating quick when the door to his room slowly opened and Even entered inside, looking worn out.

“I’m sorry, Is. Can I sleep in your room for tonight? Please.”

“You were right. I didn’t like Emma. I never liked her.”

17 and 20

“What if I can make it up to you?”

“Even, I just fucking hate you, alright? Leave me alone.” Isak said, slamming the room to his door loudly. He didn’t want to hear any more of Even’s bullshit so he went straight to his bed and fell on top of it, burrowing his face into the pillow Even always slept. He inhaled the scent and felt something stirring inside him.

A weight dropped beside him and the next second someone was cuddling him from his side. Fucking Even. Of course, he followed Isak back into his room. Even literally had no sense of privacy. Not when it came to Isak at least.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Isak groaned into his pillow.

“What if I can make up to you?” Even repeated, to his ear this time. It gave Isak chills.

“How?”

This year, Even was back only for a week or so and Isak was already anticipating him leaving tomorrow when today Even had the audacity to leave the palace and spend his more than four hours flirting with the village girls and boys.

Look, Isak wasn’t being possessive, or fuck it, he had no idea, okay? But he knew he was definitely not controlling like Sonja was. Sonja and Even had broken up and Isak really knew now what that whole argument or fight was about.

But that’s not the matter right now. He wasn’t usually possessive, but look, he hated that Even just left him like that on the last day he was going to spend here in Oslo before he would be back in Bergen. He and Even were supposed to spend their whole day together but Even had ditched him in the evening to flirt with some girls and returned back at dinner and he was going to leave tomorrow morning.

Of course, Isak was pissed and annoyed. Why couldn’t Even flirt with him instead?

Fucking Even.

“I just can,” Even replied smoothly and Isak turned to him suspiciously.

“No, you can’t. I’m really hurt right now. Nothing can mend my broken heart.” Isak said instead. “And I really, really hate you right now.”

Even rolled his eyes at him fondly before cupping Isak’s chin with his hand. Then he leaned in and slowly asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Isak shuddered at that. They were so close. “No, of course not, Even. You would know if I kissed someone. Stop asking all the weir-”

Even shut him up with his own lips, kissing him. Isak whimpered and let out a surprised squeak before furiously trying to kiss Even back. Holy fuck, he was definitely dreaming. He was kissing Even. And nothing had ever felt so right in the universe.

Even kissed him gently and softly, he wasn’t rushing it, like he was savouring Isak’s lips, memorizing the way it moved and the way it tasted. It felt like he was trying to please Isak and it definitely was working. Isak moaned and hummed around their lips. He couldn’t believe it. He went pliant in Even’s arms and let him kiss him again and again and again until Isak could only see and feel and touch only Even, Even, and Even.

“Did I succeed in making up to you?”

“Hell yeah,”

19 and 22

Isak was fucked. Literally. He just realized how much he was crushing on Even and how badly he wanted him that way. The way every boy wanted the girl. And he was fucked now.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Even’s naked back as he stretched and yawned in the early morning like a cat.

Isak watched his muscles flex and his spine stretch and shoulders move from where he was still pretending to be asleep with his blanket over his head.

Even looked good. He probably was one of the most handsome men Isak had ever seen all his life. Yes, Even was a man now and it made Isak swoon over him.

Just as Even got off the bed, he caught a glimpse of his collarbone, and Isak’s mouth watered as he imagined himself licking it. Gosh.

Even had returned back to Oslo again two years later and he looked so good. He had grown way taller and had gotten way more muscles. His hair was longer and swooped back on his head. It made him look so sexy and hot and Isak couldn’t breathe every time their eyes met. Someone kill him, God.

“Is it bad I want him to do every evil thing he can to me?”

He said out loud, still drooling over the new, tall and hot version of Even as he practiced his sword fighting while Magnus fed the sheep beside him in the shed. He was getting really good at it and he had even defeated and killed some of the sworn enemy’s sneaky conspirators a couple of times. This was his favorite sword and he named it ‘Illuminati,’ because it sounded cool.

He heard something clatter to the ground and turned to look at Magnus who was watching him with wide eyes. “What the fuck, bro?”

Isak nodded gravely, not even caring about the fact that he just said ‘he’ out loud instead of a ‘she’.

“Who are you even talking about?” Magnus squinted at him, looking shocked. When he looked at where Isak’s gaze was pointing to, his eyes widened.

“Fuck bro. Even?”

Isak nodded again. Even was there, riding his black horse and greeting everyone on the way with a huge beam. He looked so pretty.

“Mags, I think I like Even.” Isak couldn’t believe his own voice. How was the feeling this brave to admit that out loud? But he was also fucking tired of lying to himself. He liked Even that way and he had known it for a long time but he never let himself accept it. He couldn’t do that anymore though. He just didn’t think he could keep it in himself when Even had kissed the last time he was here. The only thing that was repeating in Isak’s head was their kiss and how good it had felt.

He had kissed many girls after that, but all of them felt wrong. He realized he didn’t like girls. He had never liked girls. It scared him, but also comforted him, made him realize why he could just never feel the same like all his other friends did.

“Seriously, bro?!” Magnus came over to him. He was almost as tall as Isak now.

“yes,” Isak nodded, licking his lips and aiming at the sack with his sharp steel sword. It cut it in two halves.

Magnus looked mind blown, as if he just discovered some great theory. “Fucking hell, bro. That is awesome. Shit, I think I always knew why you looked at Even that way.” He was beaming so huge Isak wanted to shut him up.

“What way?” He frowned instead.

“The way I watch the girls.” Magnus winked at him and Isak groaned, blushing furiously.

“Fuck off,”

“But bro. What about Even then? Have you told him about how you feel yet?” Magnus shuffled closer to him, lowering his voice so that no one could hear them.

Isak’s heart clenched at that and his jaw tightened. “No, Mags. He doesn’t like me that way.” He cast his gaze down and started fiddling with his fingers.

Magnus looked almost disappointed at that information. “What? But how do you know?”

“I just do.” Isak shrugged. If Even did like him, he would have told him.

“Bullshit bro. Have you ever seen the way Even looks at you? He looks at you like you are the most precious thing to him. Kid you not, I thought Even had a secret crush on you for several years after we became friends.” Magnus huffed. “He definitely fancies you, bro.”

Isak bit his lip, considering what Magnus had just said. Did Even really look at him that way? Did he really like Isak?

“We even kissed,” He admitted quietly.

A squeak. And Magnus was right in his face now. “Are you fucking kidding? You both kissed?” He yelled, making Isak flinch. A few of the guards watched them with a stone face and Isak slapped Magnus’s arm so he would shut up.

“Yes, we did. Two years back.” He said.

“Fucking hell. Who kissed first? Details, Isak. I need more details!” Magnus demanded and Isak let out a groan, slightly regretting telling Isak, but he started telling the story anyway. About him getting jealous whenever Even flirted with other girls or whenever he was with Sonja, about their kiss and how Isak couldn’t believe it was finally happening, about how they never talked about it again and Isak was too flustered to bring it up so he pretended that it never happened, about how even now Even would sneak into his room at night and slept along with Isak, about how Even would always call him pretty and it used to make Isak question his sexuality. He told him everything, every single thing. He poured his heart out. And when he was finally done, Magnus was full-on grinning now and Isak couldn’t believe he just poured his heart out to Magnus of all people.

“And now you can’t take your eyes off him,” Magnus concluded, looking back at Even out in the vast field.

“Now I can’t take my eyes off him.” Isak agreed.

“Fucking hell, this is like a fairy tale.” Magnus mused with a smile. Isak rolled his eyes.

“This is anything but a fairytale.”

Magnus waved him off and got up, dusting his dress and he went back to the shed. As he walked in, he shouted over back to Isak, “Looking at someone like they are their universe, kissing them, and sneaking into their bed every night doesn’t seem like something a normal friend would do, Isak. You should stop thinking so hard and tell him.” He winked before disappearing inside.

Isak stared back at him for several minutes before letting out a sigh. ‘A true king is not afraid to be himself.’ Even’s words rang in his mind after all these years.

He would have to do this then, wouldn’t he?

21 and 23

“Even, I swear to god if anyone hears and informs my parents-“

-calm down, baby. Just enjoy.”

“They are the fucking king and quee- ahh“

Even dived back in and Isak moaned so loud he panicked he alerted the guards outside. But luckily, none of them barged in. Even didn’t stop, he kept going up and down, up and down and soon Isak was panting.

When they both were coming down from their high finally, sweaty bodies on top of each other, Isak let out a giggle.

“Fucking hell,”

Even smiled down at him, then rolled back to his side. “I can’t believe I fucked the prince in his own room. I should get paid for this.”

Isak shoved him with a laugh before Even pulled him into himself and he rested his head on his shoulder.

“Did you know I begged my mum to let me sleep with you when we were younger because I liked you a lot and wanted to watch you sleep because you looked so adorable?” Even said, suddenly.

Isak widened his eyes at that. “What the fuck, really?” Even nodded back at him and Isak couldn’t believe it.

“Wow..”

“Yeah, I used to pretend that I was scared of sleeping alone here in your castle and somehow my mum believed it and your mum agreed to let us sleep together.” He laughed. Bright and loud.

And Isak laughed along with him too. Even rubbed his hand up and down his back and they calmed their giggles down after a while. They were together exactly for a year but only got to touch each other for two weeks and a half or so. Because they both got together the year before and Even had left again a week later and only came back here now one and a half week ago. So they were trying their best to spend as much time together as they could without making it more suspicious.

It was going fine, but they knew something had to happen first. They had to come out. They couldn’t keep living in secret like this forever. Isak didn’t want it and neither did Even. Isak was ready to die if he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let their love be imprisoned this way.

“What if we get caught one day?” Even said quietly, drawing circles on Isak's back.

“Then we explain to them. Tell them we are together,”

“And what if they don’t accept us?”

Isak shuffled closer to him. “We will flip them off and elope togteher.”

“Oh yeah?” There was a smile in Even’s voice.

“Yeah,”

“To where?”

“To a place where we are safe.”

“Okay. What if they torture Magnus over here because he supported us all this time.”

Isak scowled. “Then we take him along with us. Find him a girl. Marry them both.”

Even let out a small laugh. “That sounds really nice.”

“It does.”

“I’m so glad you asked me out that day, baby.” Isak lifted his face up and smiled down at Even.

“I am glad too. Or I wouldn’t be here with you right now, naked and kissing you.”

Even grinned up at him in the darkness. “And you wouldn’t have known how good I was at fucking you.”

“oh my god, you are so dirty.” Isak groaned, palming his face. They both laughed for another few minutes before Even resorted back to stroking his back softly.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted this. Us. You.” He said quietly, and Isak shook his head at him lightly.

“Trust me, I do. Because I wanted this too.”

Even stared into his eyes at that, a fond look on his face, and Isak did the same before they kissed each other again for a while. Isak slumped back into Even’s chest contently after that and they pulled the blanket tighter around themselves. It was a miracle no one ever came to check upon them.

“We really owe Magnus a lot, don’t we?”

24 and 26

They were in Bali. In fucking Bali, during the fuming hot, summer.

Isak couldn’t believe it. It had taken so long for them to arrive here. They had to spend so much time on various huge ships and here they were finally.

Relaxing on one of the finest beaches, shirtless and with lemonades resting on either side of them. Isak had his country to rule, his own palace, his personal advisor Magnus and most important of all, his lover, Prince Even. So yes, life was going great. Except for one small thing. But he wasn’t going to bring that topic up now.

Let’s talk about something else. First things first, Isak is a king now. Yes, he is a king but not Even. Because Isak’s father passed away two years back in the battle and now he was crowned the king of the Norsk. Even’s parents were safe and sound, thank you.

The year Isak became a king, he knew he had the power to come out as a homosexual and claim Even as his lover, openly and freely, and people wouldn’t object. Wouldn’t dare to. His own mum had accepted them both so of course, none of the people really cared very much. As for Even, it’s his story to tell, but in the end, he was accepted by his parents too.

And now, here they were, in Bali. Having a vacation after a successful battle the previous year. Even was Isak’s boyfriend and Isak was Even’s. It was good. Life was good.

Except for that one small thing that was bothering Isak for the past two months.

“I love it here so much, Isak, God.” Even whined from his side, interrupting Isak’s thoughts. He stretched and Isak stared at his beautiful, long body. His lover’s body.

His heart bloomed every time he referred to Even as a ‘lover’.

“What if we just stayed here for the rest of our lives?” Even asked, looking at Isak with a smile. He looked gorgeous in the sun. He had tanned a little in the past few days.

“Then we will.”

Even grinned wider and turned to his front before slowly making his way over to Isak with his elbows and finally stopping by his chest.

“No, because I want to see more of the world. I want to see the world with you.”

Isak stroked through his blonde hair and kissed him. “I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Even melted in front of him and his smile turned much softer. “I love you,” he mumbled, kissing Isak’s nose and then hovering above his lips.

“I love you too,” Isak murmured back, and Even was kissing him the next moment.

They made out for a while in the sun, rolling on the beach sand like two horny starfishes until they both had to come up for air.

Even was watching him and he was feeling good. They both were feeling good and Isak thought this might be the right time to tell his lover.

“Um, baby,” He started, watching Even’s face trying to see all his reaction as he sat up straighter. “As much as I love hearing people call you my ‘lover’,” he emphasized on the last part and saw Even frowning slightly at right now. “I wonder how it would be if they called you my ‘husband.’”

He wished he could just freeze the exact moment when Even’s eyes widened and he looked so surprised it made Isak’s heart well inside his chest. But he was also very, very nervous right now.

Even wasn’t speaking anything, but his face was filled with emotions. He was red and flustered and shocked and bemused and looked surprised overall. As if he wasn’t expecting this.

But then, his upper lip quirked up and there was a hint of a smile. A smile that contained just too many emotions. And that was enough for Isak to go ahead.

He faced Even and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He opened it and held it shakily to Even.

“What if I asked you to marry me right now?”

A beat.

“I would say yes.”

#evak drabble #skam #evak #This is almost 9k fgsdkhfdk #my drabbles

37 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

HI, IT'S ME! YOUR LOCAL CHAOTIC WEIRDO!!!!! I'M BACK AGAIN LIKE I AM TWICE EVERY WEEK

IT'S MY BOY DAVID THIS TIME! WHY AM I SO HYPER! MAYBE BECAUSE THEY KISSED! AND I HAD TO SUPPRESS MY SCREAMS BCAUSE IM IN CLASS AND THE REST OF MY FAMILY IS OUTSIDE MY DOOR (NOT LITERALLY OFC)

OK OK OK OK OK OK

MAX AND DAVID ARE AT THE LONDON INSTITUTE YESYESYESYES

He rather liked that part in a story – when the hero fell, and everything seemed bleak. It always meant that hope was just around the corner. Because darkness never lasted. It was always followed by light. There was nothing more beautiful than that kind of sunrise.

THIS

I literally live my life by this analogy

AHHH DAVID IS ON HIS TRAVEL YEAR AND MAX IS WITH HIM

SCREAM

well i can't scream because my mom is sitting right there and I have class in 4 minutes so imma smile really wide

“Are you planning to read the entire library during your travel year?” Max chuckled.

“Of course not,” David replied. “I will need longer than a year to accomplish that goal.”

Me.

Wait

does max not being able to make portals have something to do with his lineage?

demon parent

ok so my programming class started 2 minutes early but screw programming I'm gonna be studying minds not this shit

ok that's a very bad attitude for someone who needs good grades in this year

Max was always hungry.

this is so me

KIT

THEY MENTIONED TY

also if David doesn't become an institute head in the future THEN WHAT'S THE POINT

“Where is the kitchen?” Max interrupted.

max is such a mood

He had told Max that he had centuries to perfect his magic, that there was no need to rush it. Max had given him a noncommittal nod and nothing more.

HE'S GONNA MAKE THE BEST PORTALS YOU'LL SEE

“I won’t tell the Consul,” Kit winked.

At the mention of the Consul, David straightened up. He had been trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s good graces for years now. He didn’t think sharing a room with his son would do him any favors.

DAVID UDUCDFUHKDUHVUHSDH

PLEASE IF WE DON'T GET A CUTE ALEC AND DAVID SCENE SOON

KIT CALLED TESSA MOM

oh my god

Word was that Mr. Herondale had gone back to his obsession with brewing tea.

JACE

I have so many emotions right now but all I'm gonna say is that I'm so so proud of Rafael

“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Max asked.

UH-

WELL-

DAVID STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE AND ALL THE SHIT

STOP IT

OH MY GOD THE ONE BED TROPE

MAX IS IN HIS ARMS I'M ABOUT TO-

takes a deep breath don't scream. everyone outside this door thinks you're taking programming class

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY

AWW JULIAN PAINTED PORTRAITS FOR THE INSTITUTE

The one of Will Herondale and Tessa Gray – A love that had transcended reality and lasted a lifetime.

The one of James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs – A love that had started with a lie and then blossomed into nothing but happiness and devotion.

The one of Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn – A love that had been so powerful that it rewrote the past.

The one of Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild – A love that had walked through hell and shaken up the heavens.

And then there the final one. The one of Kit Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn – A love that had survived distance and darkness and doom.

This omg...

He wanted a love story. The kind he read in the books. The kind he saw in these portraits.

But he wasn’t a Herondale. He wasn’t sure if he was destined for that kind of love.

HEY

DON'T THINK LIKE THAT

The first part though

same

He might have been a little too excited. It was biologically impossible to control yourself when you find a stranger reading your favorite book in the whole world.

SO TRUE

“I see you already made a new friend,” Max said.

He sounded a little…odd. As if he was not pleased that David had made a new friend.

honey...

take a guess

can I jump in and bash their heads together?

“You are thinking of conjuring chocolate syrup, aren’t you?” David chuckled.

“How do you always know what’s on my mind?” Max chuckled back.

Because I know you, David wanted to say. I just wish I knew what’s in your heart too.

OH MY GOD I CANT WITH THIS

“You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup!” Max was yelling, standing on the chair.

They residents laughed harder, and David shook his head fondly. He hoped one day Max would pursue a career in theatre. He was a born showman.

can I have chocolate syrup?

also, the way David is just so fond of him like DYUSDGYJCDYUJM

“By the angel, do you have to be a drama queen about everything?” the boy next to them muttered – not so quietly.

David blinked. That was uncalled for.

But Max being Max was completely unfazed. “Of course I do. My Bapa would be personally offended otherwise.”

exactly you rude little shit

Max often pretended like people’s words didn’t hurt him - just as he pretend that fire doesn’t burn or wounds don’t bleed.

wow ok stop calling me out

Is max jealous??????

is he??????

how are people so good at languages like damn

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “Is he already telling people to check on me?”

LMAO

using mundane medicine...

that's risky

but it's also something that WILL help

can't warlocks tamper with the blood samples?

A part of him wondered if that’s why he had agreed to send Max away to London – at least for a week. Because sometimes you didn’t want other people to see you were hurting.

alec I really goddamn hope you're dealing with this well

some of whom had even decided to die than get help from a warlock.

alright then gets my knives but you chose this :D

Nobody brought a book down for breakfast if they didn't like to read.

yes but sometimes also to seem busy so people won't bother you or you won't look alone.

“I know,” the boy said as he walked past them to the gate. “I sat on the stairs and thought about life for a few good minutes.”

his family is the one who took over David's previous institute (i can't spell that. marse- marselli- wat??) methinks.

The gang always visited whenever all of them were in the city together. They would have so much fun! Of course, the 'fun' mostly entailed Rafael stopping Georgia from drinking random potions she found in the stalls, Selena stopping Lexi from opening a psychic booth to help people talk to Raziel and of course David stopping Max from running to the gambling booths.

LMAO, I CANT WITH THIS-

Rafe: I am anxiety.

me at any given moment

EW TESTICLES HE'S EATING THOSE-

ok maybe I'm the only person who's really picky when it comes to food and doesn't eat the majority of things

“Anything on Magnus Bane?” Max asked.

“No,” the woman snapped and shoved some of the letters into a bag and hide it under the table. “Leave Magnus Bane alone!”

“Appreciate your loyalty,” Max winked at her and started examining a diary.

I like her.

"Everyone should be participating in this" -my programming teacher

me, an intellectual: participating in what?? goes to the class web THE FUCK IS THAT

“Something for the shadowhunter?” the woman smiled. “Perhaps an unpublished snippet from the Beautiful Cordelia?”

“Do you have any love letters?” David asked.

“Hmmm,” the woman went through the pages. “I do have a correspondence between an Iblis demon and Christopher Lightwood? Would you be interested in that?”

if u don't mind I would love to see both of those-

you know I just remembered I have a computer assignment I need to submit by the end of this week fml

“Never fall in love with an immortal,” she giggled again. “We don’t like staying in one place.”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

MAX WHERE ARE YOU

why are we using x and 3 in programming class what the heck is going on

“I’m not just some warlock,” Max said, his voice low. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.”

GIVE HIM THAT NECKLACE BACK

we usually have programming once a week on our physical school days and those are fun because my and my friend are continuously passing notes and talking to each other through writing

The scene where Max fought off all the evil people who tried to steal his valuable belonging. He would fight without breaking a sweat and throw magic fireballs at everyone and then get his necklace back. And then he would kiss David in front of everyone and it would somehow rain all of a sudden.

But life wasn’t a movie or a book. Life was just life.

life's boring

fuck life

I just heard a student ask "why are we not taking out the values of b and c" BESTIE I THOUGHT WE WERE DOING PROGRAMMING AND NOT ALGEBRA?????

“I know there wasn’t anyone to protect you before,” Magnus Bane had said. “But we are here now. We will protect you. This will protect you.”

He hadn’t wanted it back then. He didn't even want it even now.

He didn’t want something to protect him. Most importantly, he didn’t want to cover his scar. He didn’t want to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of it. It wasn’t a mark of a victim. It was the mark of a survivor.

So, David had smiled and given the bracelet back.

“I never wanted to be protected,” David had replied. “I only ever wanted to be loved.”

The warlock had smiled at that and given David a hug. It had felt different than other hugs he had experienced since he had come to New York.

It wasn’t just the magic. Magnus Bane carried so much love inside himself you could literally feel it through him.

I'm gonna cry during my programming class (where we're doing variables apparently all of a sudden??)

this is so beautiful

“I wasn’t talking about Bapa,” Max said now. “I was talking about the other one.”

David chuckled at that. “Oh, yeah. He is definitely going to kill you.”

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

so Jackson has family troubles

I've definitely got that

yeah I know what it's like to be jealous of someone else's perfect family

JACKSON WTF

Is he trying to ruin max's relationship with his family???

oh hell no

JACKSON THE AUDACITY

“One stolen necklace, One broken nose and One bruised cheek,” he said. “And you’ve been in London for less than a day.”

kit seriously? but is he wrong though?

“This is what I get for falling for a Lightwood-Bane,” David sighed and walked through the portal.

WELL AT LEAST HE'S SELF AWARE

Jackson...

in some ways, I can empathize with him. my younger self anyway. but Jackson this is not how you do things

There was a moment of silence and then Magnus Bane giggled.

“I do love it when the quiet ones go feral,” the warlock grinned.

MAGNUS

NOT.THE.TIME

(me too)

“David!” Mr Herondale gasped. “Is your hand okay?”

yup that's Jace y'all

David hated violence. He hated fighting – which he was often not allowed to say out loud considering he was a shadowhunter.

But it was the truth. He hated hurting people – or even things. It made him feel sick.

“It’s alright, Chouchou,” Mr Herondale ran a hand through David’s hair. “Next time, just-”

“Use my words?” David asked.

“Just don’t get caught,” the man winked.

and that is why I would never want to be a shadowhunter.

I know saying that doesn't do anything but when I first read tsc I wanted to be a shadowhunter really badly and damn that was some time ago but now...violence of any kind is my biggest trigger idek why. and I hate that so much because what kind of a person gets triggered by loud voices and fighting EVEN ON SCREEN??? I usually just push myself to watch stuff because it's dumb. I refuse to see trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a show because damn it, I should be able to stand those things I'm, not a child. and it may be doing me more harm than good but I shouldn't feel like this in the first place

okay...that was long

ANYWAY

“David, I appreciate you standing up for Max,” the Consul said. “But next time, please try not to punch anyone in the face.”

“Yes, sir,” David nodded. “Because it’s wrong.”

“Because it means more paperwork for me,” the Consul groaned and then straightened up. “But yes. Absolutely. Very wrong. No punching people!”

LMAO ALEC

Jackson...

I was wrong then

He was grinning. Magnus Bane must have raised hell in the shadow market.

that must have been fun

Max was doing that thing where he was not trying to pout but he was mostly definitely pouting. It made David want to kiss him. But then the Consul spoke, and David reminded himself he didn’t want to be the third person to get punched in the face this evening.

well-

“I understand that Jackson has been through a lot. But that’s not an excuse for him to hurt those around him. I learned that lesson the hard way. So, you shouldn’t excuse his behaviour.”

someone's trauma and pain is never an excuse to hurt others

but that doesn't mean we should invalidate their trauma either

“You can stay back and try to help him. I won’t stop you,” the man got up now. “But if he tries to hurt you-”

“You will unleash hell?” David chuckled.

“Worse,” the other man grinned. “I will unleash Lexi.”

that is much much worse

Books brought him comfort in so many ways. Just holding one in his hands automatically made him feel better.

oh my god

he gets it

I always have a book with me when I'm out even if I'm not gonna get the time to read it because just the weight and comfort of it in my hands or in my backpack brings me so much comfort and helps with my social anxiety so much

no one understands when I try to tell them that

you get it...

someone gets it finally

AYYY IRENE

“David, it’s very sweet that you want to protect Jackson,” Kit pointed out. “But literally no one is buying that. Not even Irene.”

The lynx purred on his lap as if she agreed with Kit.

“I could break into a liquor cabinet,” David said a little indignantly.

David is the nicest you can get

David wouldn’t. Apparently, everyone already seemed to know that - even the lynx he had met five minutes ago.

we are solving something in class and it's really quiet because we're all doing our work (I'm reading the fic so-) and this one person had their mic open and they kept on whispering their steps and it was so weird I cant-

BUT YES DAVID IS A CINNAMON ROLL. EVEN THE LYNX KNOWS

“We were talking about shitty fathers,” Jackson pointed out. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“I’m gonna need something stronger than red wine for this conversation,” Kit chuckled.

I remember that bitch

David used to do it when he was a child. He used to pretend his life was a story. He used to pretend everything that happened to him was happening to some other boy – a boy who wasn’t real. A boy who lived inside a book. Because it hurt a little less when you pretend like it wasn’t happening to you.

But the pain was still very real.

OK YOU CAN STOP CALLING ME OUT NOW

“I fucking hate ogres,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Was your father an ogre too?” Jackson asked.

“He was more like a harpy,” Kit snorted. “He was always flying and fleeing. I didn’t know how deep his talons were in my head until it was too late.”

you really like traumatizing all your characters, don't you?

I really fucking hope the ogre got what he deserved

and if the angel is dead then fuck everyone

“I mean, there was that time when Sebastian Morgenstern turned my father into the endarkened, and then he went around killing people. So, I would say he was more like a zombie,” the man was explaining now. “The zombie father tried to kill me but my brother killed him first.”

“Good lord!” Jackson said in shock.

Kit chuckled softly. “Boy do shadowhunters need therapy.”

they really do

He knew about those from New York. He knew Mr Herondale and Miss Fairchild went for one together.

YES GET THEM THERAPY

“Yikes,” Kit chuckled. “I’d prefer something classier. How about London Boys?”

“None of us are from London though,” Tiberius pointed out.

“The Beatles are not actually beetles, Ty,” Kit chuckled. “It’s just for pizazz.”

damn guys

Then the idea of a band turned into a possible YouTube channel where they would react to cute animal videos.

YS DO IT

“When people do awful things, really awful things, at one point we stop being surprised. Like what Valentine did to his children or what our fathers did to us or what those women did to Rafael. We might have been shocked or disgusted. But it wasn’t unrealistic, was it?”

“I guess not,” the boy said.

“Even when they did the most unimaginable acts of cruelty, it somehow managed to fit into our imagination. We accepted that the world can be unrealistically cruel. The kind of cruelty we will never understand. But why isn’t it the same for kindness? Why is that when someone is too kind, we automatically feel uncomfortable? We judge their intensions or think they are just pretending to be nice. We think they are being unrealistic. Why is that?”

we get so used to cruelty that kindness feels weird

“But that’s how our life works, doesn’t it? It’s a giant ball of what ifs and could have beens and if nots. What if my father had loved me instead of hurt me? Could I have been kinder if I was hugged instead of being abused? Would have I been a different person if not for my trauma? Our lives are an endless collection of theories about our real selves. The one didn’t we never had the chance to become.”

THIS

I used to spend a bunch of time on the what-ifs but those are useless. so screw the what-ifs and live in the present

“I guess we’ll never know, Jackson. None of us will never know how we would have turned out if things had been different for us. We never got the chance to be who were meant to be. Instead, we became who we had to become to survive what we went through. We will never know our true selves. We only know the version of us that made it through all the trauma.”

“Christ, that’s depressing,” Jackson said.

“It is,” David nodded. “But we made it through. We survived. I think we should focus on that.”

you survived. that's what matters

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rescued,” David smiled.

I wish I had heard this before...

maybe I don't always have to be strong. maybe it's ok sometimes just want to be saved.

I'm so happy that both Jackson and David found each other

David had learned Gaelic. Jackson had learned how to play the piano.

They had laughed and lived and loved and learned.

And they had survived – one day at a time. The London Boys.

they survived.

I know I'm always key smashing and screaming but these words, these lines, all these chapters mean so so much to me.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” David asked, hugging Jackson closely.

“No,” Jackson replied. “I will FaceTime you like a normal person, you weirdo!”

David laughed at that. “I prefer letters. They are more emotional.”

“I’ll text you,” Jackson countered. “With emojis.”

oh to have someone write me letters.

I love writing letters

once at the end of a school year, I wrote little letters to everyone in my class anonymously. even the people who had been mean to me. that was like 1-2 years after my transfer to that school and everyone practically hated me but I wanted to do something nice because who knows what someone is going through. I ended up not putting them in people's desks...

I threw them all away :)

but writing letters is superior

I often write my feelings down and give the letter to someone rather than talk to someone

if you receive a letter from me or a custom-made gift...you have reached my ultimate friendship

oh my god. THIS IS HOW I SHOULD TALK TO ONE OF MY FRIENDS ABOUT MY FEELINGS

It's kind of been a mess between us and I want to talk to her but I didn't know how to.

this is why i shouldn't send asks-

JACKSON CATCHING UP ON MAX AND DAVID

“You know what it means,” Jackson grinned harder. “Also, if that wanker tries to break your heart, I will break his face.”

“You know he is the Consul’s son?” David giggled.

“I’ve done it once and I will do it again,” Jackson shrugged. “He better treat you right.”

"wanker"

I HAVE A BRITISH ONLINE FRIEND AND THEY CALLED OUR AMERICAN ONLINE FRIEND A WANKER

AND OUR OTHER BRITISH FRIEND JOINED IN

WHILE ALL THE NON-BRITISH PEOPLE WERE LIKE "huh"

Lexi had cut her hair even shorter. Her girlfriend apparently got something called an undercut.

“Just in case someone dared to assume we were straight,” she had winked at him.

how many years has this fake dating been going on...

CENTURION SELENA

fterA the twins went to bed, David stepped out of the institute and went looking for his heart.

"went looking for his heart"

OH FUCK I FORGOT TO JOIN MY CLASS

MAX STOP DEPLETING YOUR SELF GODDAMN

And then somewhere along the way, Max’s heartbeat had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

Max, with all his chaos and drama and danger, had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

oh my god that's a parallel from canon

“Tell me why.”

“Ain't nothing but a heart break!!"

Max-

Max could make fireballs that killed demons on the spot. He could summon things from anywhere. He could heal people with his eyes closed. He was one of the youngest warlocks allowed to visit the spiral labyrinth.

Max was a warlock in every sense. A good one. A great one even.

he is so talented...

Only idiots would underestimate Magnus Bane’s power.

EXACTLY

He is probably going to be Consul like next week.”

David chuckled. “Next week?”

next week????

“Yeah, his smoking habits,” Max rolled his eyes.

Rafael wasn’t the smoker in the family. He knew who it was, but David would never open his mouth. It wasn’t his secret to tell.

this keeps on getting better

“It’s my hair!” David laughed.

“And you’re my David!” Max argued. “I say you are not allowed to grow your hair.”

MY DAVID

“I don’t want to downworld-splain it to you.”

Max blinked and then laughed. “You don’t want to what?”

“Downworld-splain,” David mumbled. “It’s when shadowhunters explain downworlders how to be downworlders.”

they were SO close to kissing

I'm gonna get in there and lock them in a closet together and tell them to FUCKING GET WITH IT

Remember who you are. Remember where you stand.

remember who you are. remember where you stand...

I know this is supposed to be about portals.

OH MY GOD THEY KISSED

THEY KISSED

IM SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING CLASS AND EVERYONE OUTSIDE THIS ROOM BE DAMNED

OH MY GOD DAVID FELL

reminds me of when alec fell down the stairs-

OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SCREAM

WE'RE GONNA GET MORE MAVID CONTENT SOON I'M SCREAMING INTERNALLY UYDRVFY7VSDU7UYVFSDUYGCADUYIGJCDSHJKGDVCSUGISDVHVF

ok, I have a computer assignment to get to and tests to study for. BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO MUCH!! THEY FINALLY KISSED I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!

Also I know I tend to go off track and you can totally ignore that. i just go crazy. BYEE

This live blog gives me so much life you don't even know. I am go glad you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing you rant about it. It's refreshing lol.

And I looooooove the lil anecdotes you share in between. Also wtf is a programming class like nobody wants to learn programme what kind of hetero nonsense I-

FINISH YOUR ASSIGNMENTS AND STUDY FOR YOUR TESTS I'LL SEE YOU SOON :)

#lbaf

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theheartsmistakes · 3 years

Text

The Last Night Part XXVIII

*Warning: Mild Adult Content at the end of this chapter.*

Cordelia sat upon the chaise lounge staring wonderingly into the flickering red and orange curls of the fire the maid had just added fresh wood to. Her eyes felt like cotton, no matter how many times she blinked. She could not erase the images of Tatiana Blackthorn’s story in her mind. Images of Belial— of Lucie— doing horrible things to this world under his control.

She thought of her dearest friend and the years of secrets she’d managed to keep well within herself. Secrets Cordelia could only wish Lucie would have felt comfortable enough to share with Cordelia, of all people.

Despite herself, she could not help but wonder whatever she’d done to cause Lucie to feel she could not trust her with such sacred information. Perhaps she could have been of more help.

But then how could she judge her friend for harboring secrets when Cordelia herself had plenty of secrets of her own. Perhaps they could have helped each other.

As her mother was always preaching, it doesn’t do to dwell on the past. The future can be changed.

The old grandfather clock in the study rang eleven times marking the hour. She’d left the drawing-room to allow the Herondale’s their space to discuss the rescue of Lucie; however, no one seemed to have a logical plan without knowing exactly how to access her. James took Matthew and Christopher aside to fill them in on the details of the afternoon.

Not wishing to be in the way or draw attention to herself, Cordelia snuck away into the study and found herself curling up on the sofa for the past hour.

When her legs had grown stiff and the fire had dwindled to a pile of flickered black coal at the bottom, the door to the study creaked open on aged hinges.

The firelight created shadows over James’s face making him look more beautiful than he already was. His eyes had lost the spark they used to hold except when they fell upon Cordelia. Even know as his gaze found her on the lounge, his shoulders dropped away from his ears and a small smile lifted at the corners of his mouth. Her heart sped up just a bit. “There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Cordelia smiled as much as she could manage and pulled the throw blanket up over her shoulder.

“You slipped away without telling anyone.” He came to stand beside the end of the lounge where Cordelia’s bare feet rested.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said and filled her lungs. “I wanted your family to have a moment to talk. I did not want to be in the way.”

“Cordelia,” said James and slowly sank onto the edge of the lounge. “You are never in the way. Lucie is as much your family as she is my own.”

“Thank you for saying that,” said Cordelia, “But I cannot help—“ The words trapped in her throat.

James tenderly and without hesitation reach up and brushed a fallen strand of hair away from her face. His finger curled underneath her chin and he lifted her eyes to meet his own.

“I know what troubles you,” he said, his golden eyes flickered across her face. “They are the same troubles as my own. But this is not your fault.”

Cordelia exhaled sharply. “If I just been more available to her.”

“No.” James cupped her face between his hands. “Lucie still would have kept her secrets and Belial would have gone even farther to acquire her, even so far as removing one of us from his way.”

Cordelia nodded and pressed her cheek into his palm. “I just feel so useless. I want to go after her— I want to do something.”

“As do I,” said James. “But after what Tatiana said, Magnus assured us that the best thing we can do is prepare for Belial’s first strike. If he’s already possessed Lucie then we must find a way to separate them. If she’s managed to fight him away, then we’ll be ready to assist her. Whatever the case, we must wait.”

She hated waiting. Never having been very good at it in her short seventeen years.

“She must be so scared,” said Cordelia, imagining her time alone with Belial. It’d been the most terrifying experience of her life second to almost losing James.

James took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “If I know anything about my sister, she is not making this time pleasant for Belial. I would almost be more concerned for his sanity rather than her own.”

“Are you trying to make light of this situation?”

James scowled. “On the contrary, I’m being quite serious.” He turned on his hip and stretched his legs out beside Cordelia. The chase lounge was just large enough to hold them both. It still felt odd to be alone with James without a chaperone, as if someone were to walk in on the two of them she’d still find her reputation compromised in some way, but then she remembered that her reputation had been quite compromised in all the ways it counted. For this man, she’d found herself in ruin. For this man, she’d given up the life dreamed and worked for her. And for this man, she’d do it again.

To offer him comfort; to offer him what strength she could give him, she’d do it again.

And tonight it seemed they needed both from each other. James leaned his head back and looked up at the wallpapered ceiling.

“Where has everyone gone off to?” She asked, tucking herself closer to his arm.

“My father and mother have gone to Henry and Charlotte’s to inform the Consul of Belial’s plan,” said James as if recited a list. “Grace and Jesse are with the Silent Brothers. Matthew and Christopher were called to report to Charles about today’s patrol. Nothing interesting to report except for a rouge Deatrix demon that was living in the sewers in Bath and a rogue werewolf with a mighty big temper. Alastair took your mother to a secondary location in case Belial decides to come here first and Thomas went with him, I believe. That’s about everyone. No one could find you to invite you along.”

“Oh James, you shouldn’t have stayed on my account,” said Cordelia. “I would have been perfectly all right.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” said James. “In truth, I wanted to stay behind. My mother has enough to handle with my father and the consul, whom I’m sure he’ll share some choice words with if they so much as attempt to condemn or criticize my mother for the kidnapping of Lucie. She did not need my company there as well. And I did not go with Matthew and Christopher on patrol as you well know, so I would have had nothing to report.”

“Is that all?”

“And…” James turned to look at Cordelia. “I much prefer your presence over any of theirs.” His eyes drifted down to Cordelia’s mouth and lingered there a moment before he met her gaze again. When he moved closer towards her, the warmth of his breath brushed against her lips, and she did not move. A silent, welcoming answer to his question. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that started soft and tender. She felt his hand slide across her waist to wrap around her back and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

A quickening fluttered in her core as his hand moved over her hip and down her thigh.

She felt as if she could scarcely breathe. She needed, wanted him closer. As if in response to some inner demand, her hands slid from the curve of his jaw, down the plains of his chest where muscles and bones contracted beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Her fingers found the hem and the soft, warm skin that lie beneath.

James shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.

He chuckled against her mouth. “Your fingers are cold.” He held her hand where it was against his abdomen. The lines and peaks of each muscle that could be felt along her fingertips had her breathing erratic again.

“A thought for a thought, Cordelia,” whispered James.

She did want to expose what she was thinking.

She looked up at him. His pupils were dilated making his eyes more black than gold. He watched her for a long moment, his eyes following the flick of her tongue over her bottom lip. “Cordelia. You’ve started calling me Cordelia— not Daisy. Why?”

His hand tightened around her own stopping its trail right above her heart. “When I gave you that nickname, we were but children. Whenever I saw you thereafter, I pictured you amongst those delicate flowers. But we are not children anymore. Ever since that moment I watched dance at the Hell Ruelle, Daisy just didn’t seem appropriate anymore. I look at you now and I can scarcely breathe. I look at you and I think about wanting you so badly that I have trouble concentrating on little else. I think about how I almost lost you and what I would do if I ever did.”

Her heart stumbled a beat. She no longer knew what to do with her arms, her legs, her face. She steeled her spine for what she was about to say, “I’m thinking— I’m thinking how if this is to be our last night alive— the last night we have with one another, then there is no one else in the world that I’d rather be spending it with. I’ve loved you since I was a little girl. And to hear you say such things… God, it feels as if I might burst. And given the current situation, considering our efforts should be focused on Lucie, perhaps that makes me a terrible person or a woman worthy of ruin—“

“It doesn’t,” he said and pressed his forehead against hers. “For tonight, there are no expectations, I just want to hold you. I want you as close as you’ll allow me.”

Cordelia sank closer into him as she drew her hand away out from underneath his shirt. She took his hand that was holding her face and showed him exactly how and where she wanted to be touched. The rough callouses of his fingers grazed the side of her neck, down to her shoulder, and over the full contours of her breasts, that felt too full for her usual corset.

His eyes never left hers as his hand kept moving down her stomach and only paused when he reached her lower abdomen.

“Have you ever—?” She blushed. “With anyone?”

James shook his head. “Though Matthew is quite vocal about his own endeavors, I have not.”

“Not even Grace?”

James shook his head again. “Grace and I barely shared a kiss. What you and Lucie saw that night was nothing more.” His fingers played with the fabric of her gown. “We don’t have to do anything tonight unless you wish to.”

“Do you wish to?”

His nose grazed her jaw and she arched beneath him. “I am yours, Cordelia. In whatever way you will have me, I am yours.”

Something hard pushed against her center. Heat flooded her and the breath was stolen from her lungs.

He let her lead for a time. Her shaking hands unbuttoned his shirt and helped remove it from his shoulders. She discovered every inch of his bare chest, kissing her way up until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he claimed her mouth.

He made quick work of unbuttoning her gown and with inhuman strength, he broke the small clasps of her corset ripping it open where it was secured at her front. When she was free, he took his own time discovering her. An exhilaration and ecstasy she’d never felt came over her with each tender kiss to her exposed flesh. All the while her body begged for more. For him to be closer. For the burning to stop.

When the moment came, it was not as she’d always feared as a young girl. There was a brief moment of discomfort, but she clung closer to James relishing in the way their bodies responded and adapted to one another. Then there was no more pain, only pleasure. At that moment, she understood why this act was so forbidden. Why worried mothers guarded their daughters and men climbed rafters and went to war. Because to be so close to him, to feel his heart beating against her own chest, Cordelia could not remember a time when she’d been happier or felt more loved.

Whatever happened tomorrow, or the days granted after, no longer mattered. For the night, she’d forget about the end of the world. They’d help each other to forget.

____________________________________________________________________

The grandfather clock chimed again this time with four distinct rings. Cordelia stirred besides James, his arms were banded around her, his breathing deep and even. He was already awake and gazing at the ceiling above them. His index finger drew lazy patterns across her bare shoulder.

For a moment, she wondered if it’d all been a dream. But from the slight, delicate tenderness between her legs, she knew it had not.

“Are you all right?” James whispered into her hair.

Carefully, she twisted to face him. His arms tightened around her as if to keep her from disappearing.

“Yes, quite,” she said quietly.

His eyes were solemn as he looked at her.

“What is it?” She asked. A terrible fear came over her that he might be having some regrets. “Did I do—“

“Will you marry me?” The words spilled from him and seemed to bring with a quick release. “For real this time? Would you be—“

Before he could ask again, Cordelia had flattened herself against him, pressing her mouth to his.

“Yes,” she smiled deeply. Without warning, he sat up so that she was straddling his lap. “Yes.”

His broad hands slid around her back as he kissed her. Neither of them thinking of the troubles to come.

(Author’s Notes: I have been so hesitant to post this! I’ve read of it twelve different times and even had my friend read it. You all can blame her for this because she said go for it. It’s not as good as any CC can write, but I thoroughly enjoyed letting James and Cordelia get frisky. Sorry for the wait! I shall see you next Monday 2/1 and we’ll be back to see what Lucie’s up to. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As always, thank you for reading, liking, and reblogging this story. It seriously means SO much to me.)

#The Last Night #the last hours #chain of gold #Chain of Iron #chain of gold fanfic #the shadowhunter chronicles #james and Cordelia #james x cordelia #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs

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equalseleventhirds · 4 years

Text

Pilgrimage

I made a fun & friendly post about considering all the fates worse than death for a tragedy, and I got to talking to myself about it. Self, I said, if you were asked to write a terrible fate worse than death for these boys, what would it be? Well about that…

- - -

Georgie hasn’t been to visit Jon since the apocalypse ended. Or, before that probably, she certainly hadn’t been popping in for a cuppa when she was trying to cut him out of her life. But then the world ended, and then unended, and Melanie has been insisting on having him around for dinner, or to go on a shopping trip, or just to visit the Admiral. Because they’re friends. Because this is what friends do: meet up, talk, and make sure their other friends aren’t alone.

Melanie’s been to visit Jon. Georgie hadn’t gone with her.

The… place where he lives is too creepy, she thinks. It was probably creepy back when Smirke built it, it was extra creepy when it was some impossible tower, and it’s still creepy now, even if it’s fallen down to earth. The Eye’s tower.

“So this is it? The Panopticon, or whatever?” Georgie felt Melanie’s hand shaking, and tightened her grip.

“…yes. I’m afraid so.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “See what I said about him being ominous?”

Jon opens the door before she knocks. It’s either some remnant of power in him, or he’d been watching out the window after Melanie called him. Georgie doesn’t ask.

“Hey, Jon.”

“Georgie. Hi.”

She steps inside, then stops. “Shoes on or off?”

“Oh, er… on. I haven’t quite finished cleaning all the… Shoes are probably better on.”

Jon was panting, standing over the nearly-empty chair where Jonah Magnus once sat. Martin laid a hand on his arm. “You did it, Jon. He’s gone.”

“That’s it? All done? You killed the big bad guy, so the apocalypse ends?”

He barely even winced at her tone. “It’s—I don’t think it’s going to be quite that simple—”

“Then why are we here—”

“Melanie sends her love, by the way.”

“Does she?”

“Yes.” She holds his gaze as levelly as she can. He just grins at her, holding his hand palm-out until she rolls her eyes and reaches into her bag. “Fine, and she sends her latest batch of halwa.”

“Thank you,” he says, plucking the container out of her hand and immediately popping it open to try a piece. “Mm… you can tell her she’s almost as good as my grandmother now.”

Georgie can’t hold back her laugh at that, short and disbelieving and a laugh, which she wasn’t sure she’d ever accomplish here. “Your grandmother always bought halwa at the store, you told me so—”

“Ah, yes. But I haven’t told Melanie, have I?”

“Jonathan Sims!”

It hurt. She’d thought she was immune to fear, to the fears, and maybe she was, to smaller ones. Normal ones. Real ones. But every ounce of impossible, enormous Fear that had clawed its way into their universe was bearing down on the tower at once, and Georgie wasn’t afraid, but it hurt.

“What now? What do we do? Jon, Jon, what happened, what do we do?”

“I…” She could see a trickle of blood coming from his nose… his eye… Hadn’t Martin said Jon couldn’t See anything about the Fears? Was that what he was trying to do? “I think… we can still stop it, maybe, but it’s… the tower, Jonah’s throne…”

“What do we have to do?”

They make it through about an hour, sharing out the halwa between them and chatting, about the books Jon finally has time to read, about the podcasts Georgie’s gotten Melanie into, about the really huge rug Jon’s planning to order when he gets everything cleaned up enough. It’s… it isn’t normal, but nothing’s really ever going to be normal again, is it? But it’s almost nice.

Except then she has to go and say the halwa’s made her thirsty (and it is sweet and dense and perfect, Melanie did an amazing job and she’s going to rat Jon out as soon as she gets home, and Georgie really cannot eat something that sweet at her age without something to wash it down). And then Jon gets up to make tea. And stops at the cupboard, and pulls out three mugs.

He doesn’t look at her, keeps his eyes on the kettle, on the mugs, on the tea bags, on his hands. But eventually he says, low but clear: “Whenever I make tea, I. Um. Bring some to him. He can’t really drink it, but it helps me feel better.”

And what can she say to that?

Jon stared at the seat, the throne, horror dawning on his face. She could tell—they all could tell—that he Knew what to do. He just had to tell them.

Martin grabbed his arm, shook him, spun him around to look at them. “Jon. I know this is—hard, for you. But what do we need to do?”

“Not us. Me. What I need to do. Someone touched by the eye, and who more than me?” He was biting at his lips, and she recognized the rhythm, from when he was stressed from essay after essay and trying to calm himself. “I have to take his seat. There has to be a king.”

“If there’s a king—” Melanie’s voice was strained, from the fear or the Fear, and Georgie tightened her grip again “—then wouldn’t it just be the same? Someone ruling over this, this ‘ruined world’?”

Jon was already shaking his head. “No, not if it’s now. Not if it’s someone who wants to stop it. Dream logic, remember? Except.”

“Except?” Melanie prompted.

“Except they won’t be able to leave. They’ll be—be trapped in the fear forever. In everyone’s fears, forever. Like I was, with the dreams, but for seven billion people—”

Georgie couldn’t help the gasp at that. “The dreams like we—with you watching all the time—”

“—or, more like our journey here, when we went through all those domains,” he continued, as if he couldn’t hear her. Maybe he couldn’t, with all his attention locked on Martin, drinking him in like it would be the last time he ever saw his face. “Because, because it’s here, and I said—Martin, I told you at the beginning, the eye can’t see inside itself, so I’d be—”

“Alone,” Martin whispered. “Always watching, and alone.”

She goes with him. Of course she goes with him. On some level, that’s what this visit has been about—seeing Jon, sure, but also seeing… Martin.

Martin is the whole reason Jon’s here, after all. Living in the ruins of the Panopticon. Living at all.

Georgie doesn’t look away. Doesn’t wait in the other room (the little living space Jon had made with curtains and boxes and a folding divider Melanie found for him), safe and ignorant. She knows Jon wouldn’t blame her. Might encourage her, if she brought it up, even if she said she had to go.

She thinks she might blame herself if she did.

It’s still difficult to stand there and watch without some kind of distraction, though, so she does bring her tea with her. Bobs the bag up and down (Jon remembers she likes to leave it in even after she adds sugar and milk, like some kind of monster, he’d teased back in uni, before that word became so damn loaded), clinks the spoon against the side.

She’s trying not to stare, but there’s not a lot else to look at, besides… there’s not a lot else to look at. He must have brought that little end table in here pretty soon after moving in, set it up next to the chair with a lamp and a book and… a pillow on the floor next to it.

She doesn’t ask.

Now Jon sets the third mug down and carefully, carefully pries Martin’s hand off the arm of the chair, pushes his fingers to curl around the mug, guides them down together to the table. He keeps one hand on the mug, like he’s afraid Martin will move suddenly and spill it. Maybe it’s happened before.

There’s only so long she can avoid looking, of course. And Martin looks… a lot like the last time she saw him, just after the end of the end of the world. Very, very still, sitting upright, although Jon’s gotten him some cushions and a blanket since then. His eyes are still wide, too wide, and staring at nothing. At everything. At everything but what matters.

And his lips are slowly, slowly moving.

“But why does it have to be you! It’s always you! The whole world is touched by the Eye now, isn’t it? Can’t it be—I wanted you to—”

“I’m—I ended the world, Martin, it’s only right I fix it.” He was pleading now. “I just—Martin, please.” Jon reached up, curling his hand around the back of Martin’s neck, and pulled him down until their lips just brushed.

He closed his eyes, and Georgie wanted to look away, leave them this one last moment together. She’d be glad, later, that she didn’t, that she kept watching, watched them kiss, watched their tears, watched Jon break away and head towards the chair. Watched Martin grab him and push him away, taking the seat himself.

“Martin, no—”

Martin turned his head, slow, so slow, smiling one last time at Jon. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself?”

“Is he… talking?” She moves closer, squinting. “What… what’s he saying?”

Jon smiles, brushing his thumb over Martin’s slow-moving lips. “The same things he said to people in the apocalypse, of course. No matter how many times I told him they couldn’t hear him.”

And Georgie can see it now, the minute shapes, forming words as familiar as any casual conversation.

Excuse me… Sorry about this… How are you?… You’ll get through this… Just hang on… Hi there…

- - -

End notes: Every once in a while (not every night, bcos he has 7 billion ppl to get through), if someone were to look at the unchanging body of Martin Blackwood, and if they were good at reading lips, that someone might be able to see him talking one Jonathan Sims through his fear dreams. Of course, no one does see that; the only person who’s close enough would be asleep at the time.

#algie writes things #fanfiction #ABSOLUTELY NOT A HAPPY FANFICTION #jmart sad end from georgie's pov p much #flashbacks make a sorta nonlinear timeline but u get the drift p quick i think #sidenote jon's indian but specifically malyasian indian #bcos kim coralreefskim has a galaxy brain #looked up some malaysian indian halwa recipes and they look. so good. so GOOD #my personal headcanon for melanie didn't make it into this fic but however u hc her sometimes ur cooking after the end of the world #and u learn how to make ur friend's favorite dessert bcos it comforts him #even if he keeps insisting his grandmother made it better #...listen sometimes there are bits of happiness in grief. but also the grief is horrific and overwhelming. things happen.#the magnus archives #god absolutely not trying to maintag this can u imagine.#ppl just had to deal with sadness already u want this now???#anyway. i turn martin's politeness into Bad Foreshadowing.#aren't u glad i'm not jonathan jonny writerman sims and do not have control over this narrative. aren't u glad.

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years

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how would you do a percy jackson adaptaion?

okay, so I know this is a controversial opinion right off the bat: I really don’t think it should be an animated series.

A large part of the appeal of the series is that it’s a fantasy series set very very firmly in reality. Literally, apart from the camps, you could go to every location hit in the books. Riordan mentions specific streets, buildings and landmarks, and that was cool when I first read them. I remember being a kid and waiting for him to set a scene in a place near where I lived! I remember trips to New York and being able to envision an epic war happening in the streets. So I think any adaption needs to be live action just to keep that same feeling alive, while I’m not knocking on animation, I just feel like taking the story out of real life would make it loose a little of the charm. Like, the scene where Manhattan is completely frozen in time? It would be haunting to see that in real life, but I feel like it would be less impactful if it didn’t…you know…look real? The series should be done in a way that makes you truly feel like you could just turn a corner and walk straight into a snake woman going about her day.

Now: another large part of the appeal of the series is how funny it is, but a lot of that…is Percy’s inner monologue. He doesn’t actually voice most of it, there was even a book where Annabeth described him as being quiet. So, I think the best way to work around this: make it Interview With A Demigod.

Imagine it’s got an interview with a vampire-esque setup- and this even works because within the riordanverse, the books canonically exist because Percy sat down with a ‘camp scribe’ and had his quests recorded. So, like, this isn’t even entirely out of left field. But just imagine, a college-aged, maybe a little older Percy, I can see it so clearly in my head, he’s wearing a sweatshirt that at first glance looks like it says NYU but a trained eye will see it actually says NRU for a camp jupiter easter egg, he’s sitting in some dinky little diner (maybe it can even be a monster donut or something with a clever greek myth related name) with a guy who’s recording the conversation on some old-ass tape recorder that keeps acting up but they can’t record on a phone because of the whole technology thing. Every now and then it’ll cut back to them to get some great Percy thoughts out there. They open with older Percy saying the ‘look, I didn’t wanna be a halfblood’ and then explaining where he was when the whole mess started. Once he get’s to “was I a troubled kid?” the screen fades from older Percy to 12 year old Percy getting in a fight with Nancy and her gang, and the voice over says the ‘Yeah, you could say that’ part as we see him get threatened by the principal to behave on the field trip. Boom, we’ve got an opening. Lowkey….I’m seeing Jordan Fisher as older Percy, but I’m not 100% married to the idea.

And before anyone tries to argue that showing an older Percy would spoil he’s not gonna die in last olympian- like, reading the books, we all knew he wasn’t going to die. It was a first person narrative and he was consistently speaking in past tense lmao like we Knew he was gonna make it. We still enjoyed the series. It won’t ruin anything.

I want part of the score of the adaptation to be instrumental versions of songs from the musical, I think that could be a sweet nod to that team.

They really need to nail camp halfblood. I know that goes without saying, but in order to keep the pacing of the story decent we can’t spend as much time falling in love with it like we got to with the book. The book is like, 24 chapters and the quest starts at chapter 12- for a movie or tv show, that’s just gonna feel like it’s dragging. So, the insanity of the camp needs to smack you in the face right away, and then it needs to endear itself to the viewers quickly after that. Don’t try to ease the viewers (or Percy) into the mythology is real thing, rip it off like a bandaid. He’s on his way to meet Chiron and Mr. D for the first time and even if he’s not comprehending what he’s seeing, there’s nature spirits and harpies all around going about their day. Hestia waves at him and then disappears into the flames. Hecate kids can be seen casting a spell on the porch of the Hermes cabin. The Stolls are seen pranking some Aphrodite kids. He sees someone surely die on the climbing wall but then you hear a faint ‘I’m okay!’. The Apollo kids put a rhyming curse on another cabin. Pure chaos all before he gets the ‘so, gods are real’ speech. And then after that…show how warm Luke is to him at the cabin and at dinner. Show the kids all goofing off at the campfire and really make it clear that they’re children. Show the strawberry fields rolling in the wind and Percy sitting on the beach. The whole couple weeks where he’s searching for powers and learning greek and latin with Annabeth can be a montage. Make it clear how hurt and scared he is when he finds out he needs to leave.

It needs to really get you feeling how Percy’s feeling, every laugh, every tear, every moment of fear or confusion needs to shine clear through. Like…think of Spider-Man Homecoming, the Washington monument scene. All things considered, it’s not the most high-stakes scene we’ve ever seen in that franchise, and when it cuts to the kids in the elevator, they’re worried but not quite freaking out, but that scene feels very high stress to watch because the movie is good at getting the viewers to feel what Peter feels. A Percy Jackson adaptation needs a touch like that, because Percy’s a very emotional kid and that’s what a lot of the scenes hinge on.

Lowkey- I’d love it if the casts of both the previous movies and the musical had cameos or bit parts (the movie cast did Nothing Wrong, it was the rest of that team). It’d be hilarious to see, like, Jake Abel as the owner of the poodle, or Logan Lerman as Older Percy and the reporter’s waiter that keeps trying to get in on the conversation, or Brandon T. Jackson as a satyr who’s still stuck grooving out in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. Kristen Stokes as a nature spirit, Chris as one of the ghosts stuck in the waiting room of DOA Records, just like any of those casts having small parts would be fun and sweet.

There should be a lot of easter eggs for the bigger riordanverse. Promotions in the background for the new Tristan McLean movie. Gabe’s got a true crime documentary about the missing Grace children playing during his poker game. Mr. D is reading a paper about Rachel Dare’s father’s newest project. At some point while they’re still in New York they pass the Kane family’s mansion or whatever it was called. Annabeth keeps a picture of little her and Magnus on her nightstand. The barest of hints about the Triumvirate. Seeing kids in camp jupiter gear in some background shots, just out of notice of our main characters but implying the camps are going through similar problems (BITCH….if we got a titan’s curse adaptation…and we had a shot of Thalia in the foreground….but in the background we saw a blond boy in purple with a golden sword….well I would simply loose my Goddamn mind).

And show us how easily the mist lets things blend in, too- like, everyone thinks ‘Monster Donuts’ is just a normal chain, it’s just on an average street block, but if Percy looks through the window he can see who’s behind the counter. Show someone swindling some guys in a park and you have to look twice to realize he’s a gegeines. Like…how people are still trying to find all the background ghosts in haunting of hill house. I would LOVE to see a bunch of background monsters and mythical beings just going about their day as much as the mortals are while the gang’s questing.

The effects need to be fun. The whole story needs to be fun, but one weird thing about the past movies are that like…in their attempt to make it gritty, none of the fantastical things happening on screen actually felt that exciting. We need bright colors and interesting choices, consistently cool action shots, a liveliness that makes you feel like you’re in the center of the action. I have absolutely no doubt Disney easily has enough funds to pull off great effects.

The characters need to be….in character lmao. Annabeth needs to be cocky and bratty with the skill set to justify it. Percy needs to be a sweetheart who pretends to be hardened because that’s what people assume he’s like. Grover needs to have dry humor and a Too Old For This Shit attitude whenever percabeth start bickering. Luke needs to be nice and friendly but in a specific way that you can look back after the betrayal and see he was trying to groom everyone. Sally needs to be loving, protective and strong. Chiron needs to feel defeated and determined at the same time. Mr. D needs to….be Stanley Tucci lmao

Also, I’d love if the adaptation could expand more on things that got brushed along in the books- Percy and Beckendorf’s friendship, Silena and Clarisse’s dynamic, make Nico’s crush on Percy a little more obvious, give Rachel some more development. One thing that haunts me about the books is Sally never found out that Gabe hit Percy. Absolutely they don’t need to make the abuse explicit, but I also personally feel like a lot of Percy’s mindsets throughout the series are somewhat a result of Gabe, and I’d like if that got, you know, acknowledged. Maybe in the scene where he figures out Gabe abuses Sally he could say ‘does he hit you too?’ or something to that effect. They could also go more into detail about Annabeth’s family, give Zoe some more depth….like the possibilities I’m screaming.

Okay this is already long and I’m getting tired but I can so clearly see a great adaptation in my mind….Disney please come through….It’s what we deserve….

#percy jackson #disney #rick riordan #pjo #hoo #toa #asks #molly mumbles

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beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

They cook, they feed him, they chat away about inane things. Their presence soothes Martin and their voices fill him with the warmth sucked away by his unexpected encounter.

Gerry helps him make tea after dinner, and they all sit at the table together, even the cats sleeping nearby, cuddled up into one big, grey and black fluff ball.

"I think," Martin begins, voice croaky, "That I would like to tell you now."

"We're ready to listen if you're ready to tell us." Jon offers softly. Gerry reaches over to take one of his hands, turning it over to kiss the palm sweetly.

Martin talks, voice quiet and even.

"In the beginning, it was just a normal relationship. Except for the fact that he was almost twenty years older than me, and about a million times richer. I didn't know that at first, of course. He was just a middle-aged man I met in a gay bar, who didn't seem to mind that I was trans. I felt secure in our relationship, if not exactly nurtured or adored. I had never felt very secure before, and it seemed like enough, you know?

"He took me out, brought me a few things in the beginning. He was very dominant, sexually, but I was a lot less sure of my own preferences back then and I thought it was fine. He never even blinked at my trashy flat or cheap clothes, and I didn't even realise just how much money he had for a long time. Maybe I just can't really comprehend that much money, even now.

"When I was twenty-two, my mother died, and…" He huffs out a shaky, emotional laugh. "Well, I was a real mess. I lost my job, and almost my flat. Peter started paying for things, my rent, clothes, meals. He said that I needed somewhere to live and had to eat and look presentable, and it was his pleasure to provide those things for me. It made me feel a bit gross, but I struggled to find another job, and so I accepted it."

Martin hesitates here, before continuing. "The problem started when I wasn't interested in sex one night."

"He forced you?" Gerry interrupts to ask dangerously, threat explicit in his quiet words. His eyes seem to glow faintly in the growing dark of the room, as the sun sets. He wishes, more than ever, that he had helped Jon kick the shit out of Peter Lukas, instead of stopping him.

Martin sighs, eyes pressed tight closed for a second. "Not exactly. He simply pointed out that he paid for me to exist. So I made myself interested."

Gerry's hands tighten into fists and he moves them under the table where Martin can't see them anymore. Jon suddenly looks very pale. They share a look, neither able to see much difference between 'forcing' and what sounds a lot like financial abuse to them.

Martin pulls his legs up to his chest, curling around them as he goes on. "Our relationship became a lot more transactional after that night. I disengaged whatever feelings I had left for him and simply drew all my emotions down deep into myself. I wasn't ashamed to be getting paid for sex, but I felt like I had lost my own consent in the matter. Peter honestly seemed like he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Money was nothing to him, and he had someone to take out on his arm or shag whenever he wanted, without the work of a real relationship, or the complications of unfortunate attachments.

"So, if I needed something, I told him. He set a date, took me out, fucked me. He gave me however much I needed."

Martin shrugs, looking down at his hands. "I honestly hated it. Not because of the prostitution itself, sex has always been very nurturing for me, and I sometimes caught the idea that it was only another way to care for people, and being paid for that is perfectly fine, if you're doing it for the right reasons. The real issue was Peter himself. He had this way of making me feel… bereft and hollow, even before the money came into it."

A few tears track down his face, although his face remains rather blank, in a numb way. It's only as he admits the next words that his voice breaks and the heartbreak works its way out again.

"I was very foolish. Looking back, I can see that I was still a child in a lot of ways. I put myself into a situation that damaged me, but I accept the consequences of those actions, both then and now. I- I-"

"Martin," Jon whispers, warm love clear in his voice. It's nothing but an offer of support, one that he desperately needs right now.

He presses his eyes shut, forcing away the stutter and the lump of tears. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of it, even if I got a crap, minimum wage job that I was qualified for. So I started applying for any work that was available. I made every application exactly what they wanted, and I hoped for the best. When Elias offered me the job at Magnus, I took it happily. Since then I found out that Peter knows him, and probably arranged the job for me, but at the time I had no idea. Looking back, I know that it's a miracle that I got out of it at all. Peter could have chosen to make my life a living hell. Instead, he accepted the several firm rejections I offered him.

"He promised me that we weren't done, that I would be back, but he left me alone. I was done. I moved on with my life, even if I had to lie to do it." Martin sighs, shakes out his shoulders, the most difficult part over now.

"I had always planned to be open about it with my next relationships, but they were so fleeting that it never even came up. By the time I fell for Jon, it had become a secret, one I was loathed to dig up for a relationship I was convinced wouldn't last. I thought to myself, 'Why ruin something that makes me happy?' I assumed it would fall apart anyway, and it was easier to allow it to be in the past.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never told you. I'm sorry you had to find out from him. I'm sorry that we've been together for more than a year and we basically live together, and I've put you in this position. I love you both, very very much."

"When did you eventually decide that our relationship was going to last?" Jon queries, genuine curiosity in his voice.

There's a beat of hazy silence at the abrupt change in tone and topic.

"Oh, ah-" Martin stumbles over his words, unsure how blatantly honest to be. He chooses the real truth, no matter how unfortunate. "The day that I got Luna was the first time I really accepted that you both loved me."

Jon simply raises an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "What about you, Gerry?"

"With you," Gerry responds easily, "at the hospital in Morden, when I was so panicked that I couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or handcuff us together for the rest of our lives. With Martin-"

He breaks off with a laugh, colouring slightly. "It was the day we dyed my hair purple."

"The first time we had sex?" Martin asks, surprised at such a hedonistic answer.

He laughs again, more confidently this time. "No, actually, although that was spectacular. It was afterwards, when you braided my hair for the first time. That was the first time anyone had ever braided my hair. It made me feel so… So honoured. Like I was the most precious thing to you."

"Gerry, you are the most precious thing to me. You both are." Martin whispers, tears creeping back into his voice.

"Good, because the feeling is mutual, and we desperately need you around to keep us in line," Jon tells him, voice unusually firm and confident.

"What about you?" Martin remembers to ask him, at risk of floating away in his post confession haze. "When did you know?"

"With Gerry, it was when we were teenagers. I kissed him for the first time, and he laughed at me. I just knew he was my soulmate." Jon rolls his eyes at this, but his voice is full of blatant affection. "With you, Martin, it was- Well, to be quite honest with you, there was no one special moment. It was a million tiny moments, all of them special and perfect to me. Every cup of tea, every frown while you were writing poetry, glasses pushed haphazardly up into your lovely hair. The easy, glorious look on your face the day you met Gerry for the first time, as if you weren't even capable of not falling in love with him, just as I hadn't been. It was especially the days that I would come out of the library and find you waiting for me after work. This weight of total surety would fill my chest and leave me gasping, needing you."

Jon sighs, his own eyes a little bright. "I suppose it was really the night you kissed me in the rain, and every soft moment since then has only affirmed the way I knew you were it for me."

Jon smiles at Martin so beatifically that he forgets to breathe for a moment.

"We love you too, Martin," Gerry tells him, reaching out to grasp a hand. Jon takes the other. "And we wouldn't want you any other way."

***

The next morning, Martin wakes to find Jon eyeing his phone intently. Gerry is asleep on his other side, and he feels warmly cocooned between them. Gentle cloudy light fills the space, encouraging the comfortable cozy atmosphere of their bed.

"What's wrong, love?" Martin asks sleepily, snuggling into his side.

"I got-" Jon pauses, utterly flummoxed. "I got paid a bonus."

"What?" Equally perplexed, Martin takes his phone, squinting as he tries to read the screen.

The banking app is open, and there is indeed a deposit there, Jon's normal salary amount, but on completely the wrong date.

In the purpose box, it simply reads 'Entertainment Value'.

"You don't think," Jon starts, hesitant, "that Elias paid me…"

"For hitting Peter Lukas?" Martin finishes, "His own husband."

They blink at each other, bewildered.

"Does that seem… slightly cursed, to you?" Jon whispers as if Elias might hear him. Even worse if Elias could hear them, and would probably enjoy being accused of having a cursed relationship.

"Yes, completely cursed. What is up with those two?" Martin looks as if he's smelled something bad.

"We absolutely cannot spend this money, right?" Jon asks. "Lest we are cursed with their relationship dysfunction."

"Correct," Martin responds firmly, shuddering. "Can we donate it to the animal shelter?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Jon's relief at this resolution is palpable.

He does it straight away, as if even having the money in his bank account might ruin their lives.

They let out a simultaneous sigh as the transfer goes through.

"That is wild," Martin mutters as he snuggles back down.

Jon tosses his phone away, no longer interested in it. Instead, he wraps his arms around Martin, burying his nose in his lover's hair. It smells of bergamot and tea leaves and the ocean in winter, just like Martin himself, and Jon luxuriates in the moment.

"I love you, Martin K. Blackwood." He whispers into the soft air.

"Even if I don't actually have a middle name?" Martin whispers back.

"Especially because of that." Jon chuckles.

They lay together, the gentle moments of the morning flowing around them. Later, they get up and shower together. They drink tea in front of the big windows in the living space. Martin reads a book from Gerry's shelves, his own books still packed, and Jon wanders off to play his piano where it is randomly set up, right in the middle of Gerry's typical painting area.

Gerry himself appears downstairs, still sleepy and bleary-eyed. He curls up with his head in Martin's lap, listening to Jon fill the flat with gentle music.

It's the soft sort of moment that each of them had been wishing for all their lives, full of love, and family, and a home of their very own.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

Dark Cybertron Chapter 12: That’s the Power of Love, Babeyyyyy

Thank fucking god, it’s almost over.

Our issue opens up with Ironhide deadnaming Slug, like the out-of-touch grandpa that he is. Everything is going to shit, the whole city’s covered in lasers like the world’s worst rave, and someone thought it was a good idea to let Swerve have a gun.

As the Ammonites try to murder everyone in sight, Whirl and Arcee have a little chat about how Whirl’s seemingly caused every problem ever in the last four million years.

…Whirl, you have been keeping up with your appointments with Rung, right? Like, I know he’s not the best therapist around by any stretch of the imagination, but surely something would be better than nothing in this case.

On the Lost Light, Hound, Perceptor, and Mainframe are keeping track of how many Ammonites have been killed. Everyone is extra British in this bit. Perceptor basically calls Hound a fucking idiot, because even with all the guys who’ve been taken out, there are still literally BILLIONS of these suckers running around.

Which seems a little overkill to me, but what do I know? Warcrimes aren’t my specialty.

Meanwhile, in the Mystical City of Making Science Cry, Starscream apparently knows what cosplay is, and takes a potshot at Jhiaxus for stealing his look. Metalhawk explains how the Ammonites got here in the first place, which, y’know, is cool. Love me some technobabble exposition.

I don’t actually love it.

I’m sorry for lying.

I WOULD ALSO LIKE FOR METALHAWK TO PUT A STOP TO THIS

BUT WE’VE GOT ANOTHER 19 PAGES TO GO

SO I GUESS LIFE JUST ISN’T FUCKING FAIR RATTRAP

While Metalhawk contemplates ending the comic event early, Starscream is getting his ass kicked by an old man who spent the war sitting on his butt in the Dead Universe.

Over with Team -Imus, Brainstorm’s taking a breather after getting Robertsed at the end of last issue. Ultra Magnus makes a pun, I guess to cope with the fact that he doesn’t understand anything that’s going on. Cyclonus is still dying, but this isn’t about him. Nightbeat is also dying. Oh, and Kup. Turns out, being a part of the Dead Universe is sort of an issue when you’re out of it.

Even though Galvatron was fine. And Jhiaxus. And Nova Prime, for the little bit he was out of it.

I feel like this plot point kinda just shows up when it’s convenient.

Anyway.

Brainstorm has shit in his lab that can help them not die, but he and Skids are gonna need help to get all these undead morons back to the Lost Light, which means that only two folks would be going to face Shockwave in this final confrontation.

Speaking of Shockwave, he’s gone full Burning Justice with that time drive shoved into his chest, as he makes fun of Megatron for being a dumb stupid idiot who gave him everything he needed to end the universe. He reveals himself to be a nihilist, claiming that a Cybertron which only exists for existence’s sake- and without any form of life- is the ultimate in perfection. Also, he’s a communist now. A nihilistic communist.

Just… whatever, Shockwave.

Megatron’s annoyed by all this posturing- which, same- but enough about him, it’s time for Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime drop down from… somewhere… to kick some ass. Shockwave promptly shoots Magnus, and is about to do the same to Optimus, when this starts happening:

Huh. Wonder what all that’s about.

Shockwave snaps out of his stupor and proceeds to fire on Optimus, yelling about being the only thing that exists as he does.

Over with Rodimus and friends, Cyclonus is bitching about Rodimus not leaving him behind so he could go fight Shockwave. Nightbeat, who I guess just doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, tells Cyclonus to quit it, because they all know that he just misses his boyfriend. Cyclonus, though blatantly annoyed, doesn’t actually refute this claim. Brainstorm wonders aloud just how this gaggle of assholes managed to escape the Dead Universe without murdering each other.

Rodimus explains that when they heard the singing at Swerve’s, it proved they could still get out of the Dead Universe, so they desecrated Nova Prime’s corpse to make a space bridge. Brainstorm became a doorway, because he’s very nearly dead, and oh yeah, he should probably fix that when they get back to the lab, and also reconsider his lab safety protocols.

The gang reaches the outside world, and Rodimus is given a chance to spout off his personal philosophies.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

Then everyone looks up in the sky and sees some real bullshit.

Hey, Cahill? I just wanna talk, man. Just wanna talk about this boobie Windblade you’ve cursed my eyes with.

Back over with Jhiaxus and Starscream, Jhiaxus just cannot shut up. He just keeps waxing poetic about how smart Shockwave’s plan is. I couldn’t even tell you what the guy’s saying- my eyes glaze over whenever he gets a speech bubble.

Metalhawk at this point has had quite enough of all this nonsense, and decides he’s gonna throw himself into the equation that allows the Dark Cybertron prophecy to manifest.

By killing himself.

He just fuckin’… tosses himself into some heavy machinery and explodes, and that throws all the ores out of wack, since he’s got the Resurrection Ore in him. Jhiaxus is distracted by a man just straight-up dying in the same room as him, and this give Starscream the opening he needs to stab Jhiaxus in the gut.

Then the background just straight up disappears, as Rattrap lets everyone know that it’s all still going to shit, but in the opposite direction.

Really not sure about this art direction, but whatever. I’m over it.

Back outside, all the Ammonites are exploding. All of them. Billions of the little suckers, just popping off like fire crackers. The environment’s going to be ruined at this rate. Metroplex is having a great fucking time. Happy for him.

The Lost Light calls the ladies inside Metroplex’s brain room, and lets them know that they’re gonna break up Monstructor like the mediocre boy-band he is, though not without Mainframe being difficult beforehand. The ladies jump out and enter the fray, admiring Arcee’s style as they do.

Back with Rodimus and pals, Nightbeat’s being fucking cryptic, and Brainstorm gets to work making it so folks aren’t dying from being in the wrong universe, after a little prodding to his ego.

Back in Shockwave’s Super Saiyan Energy Bubble of Pure Unadulterated Logic, Shockwave says that’s he’s fucking ripped, and Optimus couldn’t beat him in a fight. Clearly, this means we’ll have to use our words to resolve this, like adults. Optimus isn’t too sure about that option, however.

I mean, do I even have to- Optimus, that’s GAY.

I have the sneaking suspicion that Roberts wrote this portion of the script. Y’know, just given his track record.

Then Megatron blasts Shockwave with his fusion cannon, and makes fun of Optimus for being a sentimental fool.

The fact that “Dark Cybertron” is telling me this makes me so mad. Like, you don’t get to talk, Exposition Central.

It’s at this point that Megatron drops a bomb on everyone present- he’s done with being a Decepticon. He’s gonna be an Autobot now.

See, ol’ Megsy here has seen the error of his ways- that by fighting the Senate, he allowed them to change him into a murderous warlord. To prove how much of a nice guy he is, he’s ripped the Autobrand off of Bumblebee’s lifeless body and duct-taped it to his chest.

Which seems a tad disrespectful, but okay.

…Megatron, you do realize that, as the leader of the Decepticons, you could just tell everyone that they need to be nice, and that would more or less be the end of it, right? You could just say “not evil anymore, I want to be loved now”, and everyone would be all “sir yes sir.” This is going to be a PR nightmare, I can already tell. Shockwave certainly seems to agree with me.

I really like this panel structure. Want to say this is the only place it happens, too. It’s just too bad it lives in “Dark Cybertron”.

Shockwave’s not having a good time right now, and he’s convinced that Optimus and Megatron have teamed up just to make him upset so he loses control of the time drive. The two spout off a little Autobot propaganda, and then Shockwave Remembers™.

Shockwave, having had his shadowplay reverse violently and abruptly, is horrified to find what he’s become. Alas, it’s too late for him- the only way to stop the time drive is for Optimus to kill him. Optimus promises to remember who Shockwave was- a callback to the line Shockwave gave him back before his empurata- and then shoots the everloving fuck out of the guy. Megatron helps.

And that’s a series wrap on Shoc-

-holy fucking shit.

The gang high-tails it outta there, IDW Optimus once again proving to be the shittiest version of everyone’s space-dad, as he leaves Bumblebee’s body to be consumed by the Shockwave Singularity. It’s looking pretty hopeless, but luckily none of these bastards can die without fucking up Season 2 of MTMTE, so the Lost Light swoops in to save the day.

Down below, Soundwave and his gaggle of small children and animals watch as the Lost Light fucks off into the distance. Soundwave’s having a time and a half, as he realizes with his balls-to-the-wall senses that Megatron’s joined the Autobots. Galvatron shows up to try to work out a deal. We won’t be seeing where this goes, because that’ll be covered later on.

The Lost Light lands in front of Metroplex, and over to the left of that are Rattrap and Starscream, climbing over the wreckage of the city. Rattrap tries to warn Starscream that things are gonna be tough, now that the Dark Cybertron prophecy has come to pass, but Starscream isn’t really having it. He’s gotten very paranoid, likely due to stress, and tells Rattrap to not play this game, because he’s the best player who’s ever lived. Then the Lost Light gang shows up and we get this face:

Sure.

Later on, Megatron and Optimus are hanging out in the Sky Roller, not-talking, until Megatron tells Optimus to get on with it, since the issue’s about to end. Megatron was totally serious about becoming an Autobot. Optimus isn’t really sure what to do with that. I don’t think anyone’s really sure what to do with that, to be honest.

Megatron, in turn, asks Optimus if he really could look past all the bullshit Shockwave pulled in the last several million years, and he gets a non-answer, because addressing your feelings is for losers, clearly. The two exit the ship, and I guess everyone else was just… standing outside waiting for them to talk it out. Weird.

...And with THAT, I am finally released from Comic Event Hell!

If you hear any distant, triumphant screeching right now, that’s likely me.

#transformers #jro #dark cybertron #issue 12 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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phykios · 3 years

Text

honesty and promise me, part 3 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Several more weeks and hookups later, Annabeth thinks she should probably come clean. Some people might bury it deep, and for sure, Annabeth’s considered it, but, well. It is kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know Percy’s name at first. Stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her--she’s had nameless one night stands in the past, and despite Thalia’s ribbing, she knows that Thalia doesn’t really care either. It’s just that, you know, he’s Thalia’s family, and they’ve seen each other a few more times, and they are planning to continue to see each other a few more times in the future. Or more than a few times.

Anyway, she kind of feels like she owes it to him. Like he deserves this small nugget of truth, payment for all the times he’s fucked her blind. It’s nagging at her, and she hates feeling like she owes anyone anything.

Piper certainly seemed to think so, when Annabeth had told her over their monthly brunch date.

“It’s just common courtesy at this point,” she said. “Like, what if you guys end up married and then sell your story to Hollywood, they cast my dad as the male lead, and it comes out in interviews that you didn’t know his name for like a month? He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous: the movie, Piper’s dad being involved, or them being married.

Anyway, sharing some of her avocado fries, Piper had reminded her that being mean wasn't very punk rock, shutting her up effectively.

She’s out on site in the Lower East Side, taking measurements for plots of land, writing down sun angles and measuring the wind velocity between the brick buildings, when she gets a text from him.

I’m on a break and I’m starving 😩 Want to grab something to eat?

It’s 2pm on a Thursday and he wants to grab something to eat. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say that that sounds like a real, honest-to-goodness, bona fide date. (Meeting up at and subsequently leaving bars together does not count as a date, she’s pretty sure. Neither do the booty calls.) He’s been getting a little free with his texts, that boy, sending her selfies and memes and questions about her day, and now this? An invitation to their first, actual date? She should block him on principle, just for the sheer audacity.

sure, wya

520 8th, text me when you get here 😁

That’s another thing: Percy loves his emojis. If this is going to continue, they’re going to need to have a serious talk about that.

She doesn’t need to text him when she gets there; he’s already outside, leaning on the stone edifice of the building like a particularly jacked rent boy in his tight t-shirt and broody look, cigarette between his fingers. The sweatpants sort of ruin the image, though. He looks particularly comfortable in a way that warms Annabeth right from the inside out. “You know, when Nico said you smoked, I honestly didn’t believe it.” she says, not even bothering to say hi.

He looks up from his phone and smiles, the sun behind his teeth. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.” She doesn’t even hesitate--she plucks the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it herself. “You been smoking for a long time?”

“Who do you think taught Thalia how?” He raises an eyebrow, bemused. “Is that a problem?”

It is, but it’s not like she can tell him that without losing some of her credibility. “Wouldn’t smoking fuck with your cardio?”

Percy shrugs, conceding. “A little. I used to be a lot worse, but I just can’t quite kick the habit. It’s mostly a stress thing, anyway.”

“Rough practice?” she asks, putting just enough effort into her lip wobble to make it abundantly clear that she’s making fun of him. “Were the other boys being mean to you because of your tights?”

He grins at her, saucy. “Annabeth Chase, do you really think that NYCB rehearses here? In the Garment District?” But he laughs before she can stammer out an answer (and thank God, she’s lived here three years and can barely keep the boroughs straight, let alone the neighborhoods). “I just wrapped up teaching a class. I don’t have to be at rehearsal until 5, I was thinking we could hang out? Bryant Park?”

A first date at the New York Public Library. She almost hates to admit it, but Percy Jackson might be kind of her dream man. “I believe I was promised food,” she sniffs, but she does hold out her hand, and when he takes it, lacing his fingers through hers, she’s sure that he can feel her heart beating, palm to palm.

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on a bench in the corner of the green, Annabeth halfway into a ham sandwich and Percy juggling a salad and an iced coffee. He’s been regaling her with tales from the more exciting side of ballet, a side she hadn’t even imagined could actually exist. “So by the time I land in Paris,” he says, taking a sip of coffee, “the guy’s foot has swollen up to, like, twice its original size, and when I finally managed to find some wifi to check my phone, there’s, like, eight missed calls from my mom and my agent, and an email from her that just says ‘READ THIS,’ in all caps, and of course the article is in French, which I didn’t really speak at the time, and I was so stressed that my ADHD made it so I couldn’t even read the Google translation, and I had to ask someone to translate it for me.”

“Oh my god,” she says, struggling to keep it in.

“And that’s how I found out that I’d been moved up to first cast in Le Corsaire, from the poor barista at a coffee shop in Charles de Gaule!” He laughs.

“That’s insane,” Annabeth says. “And the show was the next day?”

“It was that night! I had to haul ass to the opera house and get warmed up, because I was going on in about four hours. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s faces when I stumbled in, I’m sure that they all wanted to kill me.” Percy chuckles, taking a bite of leafy greens. “Now I wasn’t just the twenty-year-old upstart American, I was the twenty-year-old upstart American who skipped town when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“How did it go?”

“Killed it, of course,” he says, deservedly smug.

Despite her best efforts, she’s absolutely entranced; he’s a great storyteller. “I bet you break that story out at parties all the time, don’t you.”

He laughs. “Whatever gets the donors to open their checkbooks, right?”

“I can’t believe you lived in Paris. I’ve always wanted to see it.” She’d had a few chances to when she was in college, the semester she’d studied abroad in Rome, but she just never got around to it. Just another item on her long, long list of regrets, placed somewhere between the sketchy burrito from last week and not telling her mom to fuck off earlier when she’d had the chance. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Percy shrugs. “It was amazing, I won’t lie. But towards the end I just really, really missed it here. All my family is in NYC, you know? My mom, step-dad, and my sister live here, and Thalia and Nico and Hazel, too. I tried to come back and visit whenever I could, but being away from them was really hard.” There’s something soft and inviting in his expression when he says, “I’m really happy to be back home.”

“What are they like?” Annabeth asks. “Your family. Your non-mob family, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes, but he grins another one of those blinding grins, too. “My mom is the most amazing person you will ever meet. Not only did she support my dance habit, she did it as a single working mother who had to raise an angry, ADHD asshole of a son who didn’t always appreciate her. I don’t even want to know how many hours she had to work or how many scholarships and grants she had to track down in order to pay for me to go to SAB, but somehow she made it work, and managed to write her novel at the same time. She married my step-dad the summer I turned sixteen, and my baby sister was born the next year.”

Even Annabeth, cynical and black-hearted as she is, has to smile back. The love he has for his mom is so palpable, so tangible, she can practically see him glowing. “And the…” What had Thalia called them? “The ‘Cousin Consortium’?”

At that, Percy laughs, full-bellied, unrestrained. “The name was Nico’s idea. I didn’t really have many close friends when I was a kid, apart from my buddy Grover--he had to wear this really gnarly leg brace and I liked to dance, so you can imagine how much we got picked on--but we were all really close growing up, since our dads were all assholes. They may have left us emotionally scarred, but at least we had each other’s backs the whole time.”

This is a very Percy thing, she’s starting to realize: he can not and will not hold back on his feelings. He simply refuses to. Where most guys might try to hide or downplay their affection for their friends, Percy’s is written all over his face. Maybe it’s a byproduct of doing ballet, but he’s so unashamed of his love for his friends and his family and his art, that maybe Annabeth kind of wishes she could be included in that love too, if it always feels this warm and joyful.

“I think it’s amazing that you guys are so close. I only had the one cousin when I was growing up, and we didn’t really talk all that much,” Annabeth says, almost without her permission. Something about him, it’s just so easy to talk to him. He makes it safe to open up.

“The med school guy, right?”

Annabeth nods. “Magnus. Fifth generation Harvard student. We’re all very proud.”

Ugh. Even she has to wince at the false cheer in her voice. Percy gives her a half-smile, sympathetic and soft. “Harvard not really for you, then?” he asks, picking up the threads of a long and complicated story, and one that she absolutely does not want to get into right now. Or ever, if she can help it.

“More like I wasn’t really for Harvard.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had been good enough for the university in Cambridge, Mass--good enough for two degrees and graduation with honors--but she had never been good enough for her mother’s capital-H Harvard. Never good enough for her mother at all, really.

Percy takes her hand. His fingers are cold from his iced coffee. “Hey. It’s their loss,” he says, with a sincerity and an intensity that makes her blush.

Every part of her wants to pull away. His thumb is rubbing against the joint of her finger, soothing and sweet, and she thinks she may break out in hives from it. “Damn right it is,” she mumbles.

He is so nice. So nice and hot and sweet. Objectively, what she’s about to do is a terrible idea, and might torpedo a really good thing that they have, but if she doesn’t come clean now her own guilt is going to drive her insane.

“Okay, I have a confession to make.” Percy raises his eyebrows, slurping the last dregs of his drink. “When we met… and then when we hooked up the first time… I may have… thoughtyouwereJason.”

He blinks. “Pardon?” he asks, mumbled around the straw.

Annabeth buries her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You… thought I was Jason?”

“Well,” she sputters, glaring at him through her fingers, “you were being all bro-y with Thalia!”

He is valiantly trying to hold in a smile. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you my name that morning.”

“I was really hungover,” she whines, “and you were shirtless and making breakfast so I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

“For a whole week?”

This is so embarrassing, why couldn’t she just keep her stupid mouth shut? “Yeah.” She slumps her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely sure what she expected: at best a couple of weird looks and a tentative promise to meet up later that would end up not working out, at worst she thinks he’ll just get up and leave her here at Bryant Park. Either way, they’d be doomed to months of awkward interactions, until eventually they wouldn’t be able to be around each other, and Thalia would have to pick a side--and Annabeth’s seen what Thalia does to people who cross her family. She’s seen Thalia beat a dude to pulp for calling Nico the f-slur. Picking Percy over Annabeth? That’s nothing.

So when he starts laughing, Annabeth is completely at a loss. Slowly, at first, then all at once, he’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and he has to put down his salad so it doesn’t topple over onto the grass. His head is tilted back in joy, the grey, late afternoon light adamant that Annabeth can see all of his features clearly, from his screwed up eyes to his bright, white teeth to the single dimple in his cheek.

Of course, even his laughter is hot. Asshole.

“You thought I was Jason!” He shrieks.

Annabeth crosses her arms, scowling.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he giggles. Annabeth can feel her own giggle rising in response, and she ruthlessly quashes it. “I can definitely say I’ve never heard that one before. You do know Jason is blond, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. Besides, you and Thalia look exactly alike.”

He scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. You, Thalia, and Nico are all basically clones of each other.”

“Okay, Captain Glasses, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth feels like she has to say again.

He cocks his head. “For what? For thinking I was Jason? He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“No, for,” she blushes again. All this blood rushing to her head can’t be good for her. “For sleeping with you when I still thought you were Jason.”

Percy scoots closer to her, throwing her a grin and slinging his arm over her shoulders. Without even realizing that she’s doing it, she settles in beside him like she’s been doing it her whole life, slotted up against his torso, tucking her booted feet beneath her legs. “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” he says, smirking. “You couldn’t resist my charms, even when you thought I was a brogrammer.”

Annabeth can’t help herself. She kisses him, wiping that smug grin right off his face, and when she finally retreats, after what feels like hours, he looks so dazed she could probably keep calling him by any name she wanted and he wouldn’t even realize it.

After their lunch, they meander for hours, headed in a vaguely southerly direction, holding hands the whole time, a steady, uninterrupted flow that took them all the way from Midtown to Greenwich Village. He tells her about his first day at ballet school; she tells him about her favorite monuments. “There are two architectural environments in America,” she says, ranting, speaking with enough force that she might forget the feeling of his hand in hers, “endless dead suburbia, or cities where every single building is either a concrete or a glass block--and not even Brutalist concrete, just shitty, poorly designed, paint-by-numbers concrete. It is an absolute travesty of modern government that they don’t fund any public works projects anymore.”

“That’s why all the gardens and stuff?” he asks.

“Nowadays everything is built by the lowest bidder. At least I get to add some beauty back into the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Percy says. “Paris is practically overflowing with public works, you almost forget about it sometimes.”

She sighs. “You’re so fucking lucky. Paris is so beautiful and everything in New York is just hideous.”

“Aw, come on,” he says. “Not everything. What about the Empire State Building, or Central Park?”

“Well, obviously, those,” she says, just a teensy bit flustered, but she’s not about to give up the argument without a fight. “I just mean like, normal, every day buildings: offices and apartments and stuff. It’s all so samey and boring.”

He looks to her right, pointing at the building they are passing. “What about this one?”

She turns.

If she had known they were headed this way, she never would have taken them past here.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” she mumbles, staring up at the arched windows, pedimented doors, and Rococo details of Miss Minerva’s Private Pre-College Prep School. A shudder goes down her spine, like someone walking over her grave. “There are better Beaux-Arts buildings.”

Sensing her discomfort, he picks up the pace, and changes the subject.

Finally, he stops outside a nondescript building, turning to face her. “This is me,” he says, a little bit mournfully, squeezing her hand. “Are you okay to get home safely?”

This man is ridiculous; it’s not even dark out. “I think I can manage a few blocks,” she says, lightly swatting him. “Isn’t it kind of early for you, though? It’s only four o’clock.”

He flushes faintly, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Uh, well, I always give myself a little extra time--you know, time blindness and everything.”

“You baked in extra time in case I wanted you to walk me home, didn’t you?” She mock-gasps, secretly delighted. “Scandal!”

“Guilty,” he grins. “You’ve been to mine so many times, I was curious.”

She just barely stops herself from laughing out loud at the very idea of Percy coming to her apartment--as if. Thalia hasn’t even been to her apartment. Nobody knows where she lives, none of her neighbors know who she is, and this is entirely by design. “Cut me some slack; a girl’s gotta have some mystery. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never make things easy for me,” he says, white teeth gleaming.

“You better believe it,” she smiles back. “Now that I’ve foiled your plans, are you going to be too bored?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he shrugs. “I’m very resourceful when it comes to boredom.”

Inspiration strikes, and she grasps his hand, pulling him down the alleyway. She almost hates to admit it, but she has something of a Pavlovian response when it comes to hanging out with Percy. Annabeth has come to expect some really excellent sex whenever the two of them meet up, and maybe spending all afternoon with him has made her a little bit horny.

She presses him up against the brick wall, hidden from the street by the long afternoon shadows, and kisses him. His hands flounder for a second, before coming up to rest on her shoulders, this thumbs tapping against the base of her neck, fingers fluttering on her jacket. It’s an intimate touch, kind of chaste and very respectful, and he holds her with precision and grace. He wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t want to. This is a date with no expectation of sex on his part. But Annabeth does not want grace right now, spooked by the ghost of her old school. She does not want precision. She just wants him. She just wants to keep him on his toes, keep him interested, blow his mind a little.

She just wants to blow him, to be honest.

He squeaks into her mouth as her hands fly to his belt, deft fingers practically ripping it off of him in an increasingly familiar motion. “H-hey,” he says, squeezing her shoulders, “this is--”

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, one hand playing at the top line of his underwear.

“No--I mean, are you sure? I’m-I’m okay with this, I just want to--”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, then drops to her knees. “But we’ve got some time to kill, don’t we.”

Afterwards, when she’s finished with him, Annabeth wipes her mouth, and he whimpers.

“Ho… holy shit,” he pants, flushed and trembling.

She tucks him back into his boxers, doing up his fly. “There we go. That was better than being bored, right?”

He nods wordlessly, swallowing, shaking. His eyes are glassy and glazed, stupid like he’s just shot out his brain through his dick.

In the short time they’ve been together (though, honestly, this might be the longest relationship she’s ever been in before… and they haven’t even broached the “dating” conversation yet) Annabeth has been on the receiving end of several different Percy looks. His face will light up with joy when he first lays his eyes on her, so happy to see her (though she can’t really fathom why), glinting like the sun on the water. His eyes will narrow, glaring, even as he furiously tamps down on his growing smile when they start arguing over something stupid, like Annabeth’s affinity for olives. He’ll grin at her, knife sharp and slanted, licking his lips and looming over her after she comes down from yet another orgasm via his mouth or his hands.

Percy looks at her now like someone took a bat to his head, and instead of seeing stars, he sees little miniature Annabeths flying around.

He pulls her to him and kisses her, entirely too sweet for what she’s just done to him, but that is also a very Percy thing. And when she leaves him with a final kiss on his cheek and squeeze of his ass, she can feel that look burning a hole through her jacket, following her down the alley and around the corner, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the weight of it at all.

#my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #ballet au #darkmagyk #woot!!!!

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sociallyineptbibliophile · 3 years

Text

My Top Posts in 2021

Robert (“I couldn’t help but notice that the baby is blue, Robert said. “Alec’s eyes are blue. And when you do the’- he made a strange and disturbing gesture, and then made the sound whoosh whoosh- ‘magic, sometimes there’s a blue light.”): I’ve connected the two dots

Magnus (Magnus stared at him. “I’m failing to see your point.”): You didn’t connect shit-

Robert (“If you made the baby for yourself and Alec, you can tell me,” said Robert. “I’m a very broad-minded man. Or- I’m trying to be. I’d like to be. I would understand.”): I’ve connected them.

(SNIPPETS FROM BORN TO ENDLESS NIGHT)

53 notes • Posted 2021-07-17 03:09:08 GMT

damn, I was in such a good mood but then my mother ruined it lol

64 notes • Posted 2021-11-15 19:20:05 GMT

Clace 🥰🥰🥰

Picrew Link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/274636

80 notes • Posted 2021-11-06 15:42:03 GMT

Friendly reminder that Magnus is, in fact, bisexual. You can’t just change his sexuality to something else because you think it “fits better”

81 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 21:56:45 GMT

I’ve been thinking (surprising, I know), and these are the positions I think the main tmi ships would sleep in

Clace:

Clary and Jace would be are that couple that constantly playfights, and they are dorks who would totally do the same with cuddling.

They probably switch a lot of the time who is the big spoon (and they decide this by rolling around on the bed to see who is victorious).

More often than not, Clary is the big spoon.

Since she’s so tiny (I say despite the fact that I’m shorter than her), it kind of looks ridiculous sometimes, but they don’t care.

Sometimes, after they’re asleep, Clary accidentally pushes Jace off the bed and just lays sprawled out across their bed.

Whenever this^ happens, Jace just falls back asleep on the floor or hangs onto the edge of the bed despite Clary telling him to not do that because "your back is going to hurt!”

Jace insists that he does it because he can’t get Clary to move back to her side of the bed, but, really, he just doesn’t want to accidentally wake her up by moving her.

Malec:

Alec is the little spoon. I’ve read a few things in the past where he’s always denied it, but I feel like he’d totally be that person who’d be like “I am lol, what are you going to do about it?”

Either that, or Magnus sleeps lying on top of Alec like a cat (like how he did in TRSOM). They accidentally (read: totally on purpose) fall asleep on the couch like this all. the. time.

Sometimes, Alec is the one who falls asleep while lying on top of Magnus. After a particularly tiring mission or patrol, he goes back to the loft, only wanting one thing; Magnus.

Magnus is one of those people who works late into the night (even past the time when Alec gets back from work) and sometimes needs a reminder to stop.

Alec gives these reminders by wrapping his arms around Magnus’s back and resting his head on Magnus’s shoulder and being like “I’m tired, come to bed.”

A lot of the time, Magnus responds with “go on, I’ll be there in a minute” and most of the time he is there. But he’s sometimes not.

When that happens, Alec usually drags him to bed and gives him lectures (that are similar to the ones he’s been given in the past) about how Magnus needs to take care of himself.

Magnus pretends he doesn’t like being told off, but really it’s nice to have someone who cares that much.

Sizzy:

I don’t know why, but I feel like Simon and Izzy would be that couple who doesn’t enjoy cuddling while sleeping that much. That doesn’t mean their relationship is any less healthy, they just like their space (can relate).

They sleep on opposite sides of the bed and share a blanket.

Sometimes they reach out a hand or foot in between. Not touching, just there.

Sometimes they indulge in cuddling though and they have the most inconsistent sleeping positions ever when they do.

Occasionally, they sleep sideways to just “Mix things up a bit”

Sometimes Simon holds Izzy when she needs the reminder that he’s not leaving again,

And Izzy does the same when he needs the reminder that he can remember her.

Bonus! Heline:

They’d be that couple to face each other while they’re sleeping and hold each other super close.

They’d throw a ton of blankets on top of them too.

This probably started when they were stuck at Wrangel Island and were always freezing. The position offered comfort and warmth, something they both needed,

And it kind of just stuck even after they left.

Minus the piles of blankets.

117 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 16:49:41 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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bytheangell · 4 years

Text

Sing for the Moment

(Read on AO3)

Isabelle hangs up the phone to update her siblings and Magnus that Clary is almost here with Simon, they’re just running late. It doesn’t matter much - these informal nights in don’t really have a set timeframe, and the absence of Biscuit and Simon hasn’t stopped any of them from catching up and drinking while they wait.

Magnus isn’t surprised to hear the tinkering of the piano from the kitchen while he gets more drinks for himself, Alec, Isabelle, and Jace. He made the instrument a permanent feature in his home after Alec brought up his and Jace’s shared fondness of it and how it helps them work through their thoughts sometimes, but neither of them plays much while Magnus was around to overhear, and when he is it’s usually something controlled and classical.

What reaches him now is some pop song from the 2000s, if Magnus remembers correctly, which catches him off-guard entirely.

He’s even more surprised when he returns to the living room to see Alec is the one at the bench, frowning intently down at the keys after messing up.

“C’mon, I know you know it,” Izzy encourages, leaning eagerly over the side of the piano.

“Drinks are staying over here for whenever you’re ready,” Magnus says, setting them down on the table and not bringing them any closer to the intoxicated Lightwood siblings at the piano. Not that he doesn’t trust them not to spill anything on it but… well, he absolutely does not, and that’s a very expensive instrument. Izzy backs away from the piano to get her glass and Alec moves to do the same until Izzy stops him.

“No drink for you until I get my song,” she demands, pouting.

“Iz-” Alec starts.

“Nope,” Izzy says, picking his glass up along with her own and holding it hostage.

“Jace?” Alec tries. “A little help?”

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec’s asking for help in retrieving his drink or in figuring out the part of the song he can’t seem to remember.

“If I do it for you how will you learn?” Jace says, in a slightly mocking tone that makes Magnus think that’s a line Alec used on Jace one too many times in the past.

Instead of arguing Alec sighs and sits back down, adorably resigned, until he remembers the right chords after a few attempts.

Izzy’s so pleased she puts both drinks down on the table again, abandoning them in favor of returning to her brother at the piano. Alec plays the opening chords and when he gets to the melody starts to hum.

Magnus sometimes hears him humming songs around the Loft. He knows Alec can carry a tune, more or less, but when the humming turns into lyrics Magnus is surprised at how good he is at singing. Alec sings quietly but confidently, and Magnus can’t believe this is the first time he’s ever heard Alec sing. Soon Alec’s soft tones are drowned out when Izzy joins in, much louder and a slightly slurred, but still beautiful. As if on cue Jace wanders over as well, drawn in by his siblings’ shift of focus entirely to the music, and Alec instinctively shifts over on the bench to make room for his parabatai who provides some embellished accompaniment and sings as well.

It’s all Magnus can do to stand and watch in awe at the sheer talent of the three of them. Some of it he can tell is carefully honed by practice, the piano playing in particular, but a lot of it is a natural ability. He listens to the shifting keys, the trills of scales, an impressive vibrato, and gets lost in the music so much he almost forgets where he is and who he’s listening to.

When the song finishes Alec, smiling softly, notices Magnus staring in unconcealed admiration. “What?” Alec asks. There's a bit of a furrow to his brow, the confusion clearly showing that he has no idea why Magnus is gaping a little at the performance he just witnessed.

“How,” Magnus asks, astonishment clear in his tone. “Are you all so good at that?” He thinks it's a pretty valid question, but all three of the Lightwood siblings turn to him with the same confused look Alec has.

“What?” Jace asks.

“Surely someone’s pointed out that all of your voices are magnificent before,” Magnus insists. There's no way he's the first person to ever mention it.

Izzy looks uncertain. “What? Everyone can sing.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Not like that,” he points out.

Alec considers that. “Huh,” is all he says, before going to get his drink, already shrugging off the praise.

"Have any of you ever listened to the average person sing?" Magnus wonders aloud. The question isn't aimed at any of them in particular at this point, but he's curious.

"Well... no, not really. Stuff on the radio, but it isn't like Shadowhunters are belting Elton John songs through the halls of the Institute," Jace admits. Sometimes Magnus forgets how relatively isolated their upbringings at the Institute were, as far as exposure to others not just their age but also in simple, fun social settings.

"No, I don't suppose they were," Magnus concedes. "Well then, let me be the first to inform you that you have significantly above average vocal talents and now that I'm aware of it, Alexander, we are absolutely going to a Karaoke Bar."

Alec spins around to face him so fast he nearly drops the drink in his hand. "What? No. Absolutely not."

"I'll go," Jace volunteers, just as the sound of the door opening and closing reaches them.

"Me too!" Izzy agrees.

"Where are we going?" Clary asks, making her way into the living room.

"Nowhere-" Alec starts, at the same time Isabelle says, "A karaoke bar!" with great enthusiasm.

"Oh, I know a few great spots for that," Simon offers, and Magnus smirks as Alec groans. There's no way Alec is going to stay home knowing Magnus is out drinking with his siblings knowing the sort of chaos they could cause if left entirely unchecked. Not that Magnus would ever allow them to get in actual trouble, but...

"Fine. But not tonight. Please, my nerves can't take it this week," Alec practically pleads.

"Of course, darling," Magnus agrees.

Now that everyone is here Magnus heads to the kitchen to get more drinks for Clary and Simon. The night in is much more relaxing than an impromptu trip to a karaoke bar, that's for certain, complete with a mundane board game Simon brought with, more drinks, some food to soak those drinks up with, and a lot of laughter. By the end of it, with everyone now significantly tipsy if not full-on drunk, it's no surprise they end up back at the piano.

Clary and Jace sit on the bench while Jace tries to teach her a few chords to a song. It's awful, not that any of them expect it to be anything else. Alec challenges Jace to play something classical that would be complicated even while one is entirely sober, a challenge which Jace immediately accepts because he's Jace, and of course he does. The mood is so light that Magnus can't even bring himself to shoo Isabelle off the piano which she's currently sitting on top of, drink in hand, shifting so that she's lounging elegantly with one heeled foot up in the air like the girls in piano lounges in the movies while Simon hovers next to her in case she drops her drink, or herself, off the piano.

Tearing his focus away from the piano, Magnus wanders his way over to Alec who is watching his siblings and their significant others with open endearment from the sofa a few feet away. Magnus approaches him and holds out a hand, palm up in invitation. "May I?"

Alec looks from Magnus' hand up to his face for a moment before standing with a smile, placing his drink down on the side table so his left hand is free to wrap around Magnus' waist while his right takes his husband's hand. Alec looks like he intends on mostly swaying in place but Magnus has other plans. With a gentle tug forward he leads Alec around the coffee table, past the side of the sofa, and even for a brief diversion out onto the balcony while they dance around the loft in small circles of movement and the occasional dip or spin.

Not too many of those, though, after Alec starts to look a little queasy halfway through their dance despite his best efforts to hide it. Magnus isn't sure he'd admit it until he's two seconds away from ruining Magnus' shoes or one of their very expensive rugs so best to play it safe. By the end of the song they are just swaying, a simple back and forth in one another's arms. Whatever nerves Alec mentioned earlier from the previous week are long gone and he feels like putty in Magnus' hands.

"Thank you," Alec says softly, his voice barely above a whisper since his mouth is already next to Magnus' ear, chin resting on Magnus’ shoulder.

"For what?" Magnus asks.

"For this. Having my family over. I know we already intrude on your time normally, and I'm sure you don't want them around all the-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Alexander. Because they aren't just your family, they're our family. And they're more than welcome as often as you want them here," Magnus tells him. "I know how much they mean to you, and if you still want to see them after working with them all day then I think I can manage a few nights a week of drunken Shadowhunters in the Loft."

"And vampires!" Simon chimes in instinctively before wincing. "Sorry. Vamp hearing, still don't really have a grip on turning it off when I'm drunk."

"Keep eavesdropping and I'm hiding the plasma next time," Magnus warns, though they all know it's an empty threat (and that Simon would show up, plasma or not).

Simon smiles, showing that he knows Magnus isn't serious, and turns back to helping Isabelle make her way down from the top of the piano as the last notes of Jace's song trail off to an end. Clary claps and Jace pushes the stool back so he can stand and take a very dramatic bow. The performance itself was riddled with mistakes, notes blurring together with fumbled keys and chords that were just a bit off, but even with all of those drunken errors it was better than most people with years of practice could probably manage. Magnus remembers his own poor performance on the first - and consequently last - instrument he attempted to take up before abandoning pursuits of a musical nature entirely. So, to give credit where credit is due, he drops his arms from around Alec to join in the small smattering of applause.

"Don't," Alec half-pleads, half-groans. "It'll go to his head."

Magnus laughs at that, returning his arms to wrap around Alec's waist. "You're lucky I like my hands better down here anyway," he murmurs into Alec's ear, sliding them down ever so slightly towards Alec's ass until he stops at the sound of Simon's voice.

"Gross-" Simon starts, and Magnus turns to level him with a warning glare for more eavesdropping that lacks any real heat. "They're getting flirty, I think that's our cue to leave."

Alec laughs lightly in Magnus' ear but it is very late. Magnus hadn't kept track of the time and he hadn't expected any of them to stay this long to begin with.

"Do you need a portal back? Or you can stay the night if you want," Magnus offers, not to anyone in particular because they're all welcome to spend the night if they need to. He can conjure up mattresses and cots for as many people as he needs if it's more than just one couple for the guest room.

"I think the fresh air will do me good," Jace says quickly.

"You just hate portaling when you're drunk," Isabelle chides.

"You're not the one he threw up on last time," Clary reminds Isabelle. "I'm all for walking if it means avoiding that fate again."

"You sure you're good?" Magnus asks one last time, because what kind of host would he be if he didn't?

They all nod. "Don't worry, I'll walk them back," Simon says, which might be more reassuring if Magnus wasn't acutely aware of how much plasma he had, but he seems to be steady enough with his arm around Isabelle to keep her from wobbling on her heels on their way towards the door.

"Text when you're back!" Alec calls, though that's routine for nights like these and the reminder is likely unnecessary.

"Yes, dad," Clary calls over her shoulder mockingly, but Magnus can hear the affection in her tone as she does and finds himself feeling rather fond of the whole scenario playing out in front of him.

Fond. It's not a word Magnus would've expected to associate with a bunch of Shadowhunters - and a vampire, he adds mentally, Simon's voice echoing in his head - but it's the one he keeps finding himself coming back to.

He enjoys watching how close they all are, how much they care not just about each other but the world around them. He’s fond of them as well, and not entirely because of their connection to Alec though that certainly helps.

Magnus turns to see about continuing the flirting he was recently accused of, only to be greeted by the sight of Alec slumped back down onto the sofa, eyes half-closed. If his heart wasn’t full of fondness before it certainly is now.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Magnus says. They make their way to the bedroom, with Magnus using a bit of magic to get them changed into sleepwear so they can crawl directly under the covers.

Just when Magnus is positive Alec is asleep he hears the gentle hum of a song he doesn’t recognize, but one that’s unmistakably a lullaby, sound through the silence. “Do I get sung to sleep every night, now?” Magnus whispers, shifting just enough to see the hint of a smile on Alec’s face in the dark.

Instead of answering Alec simply continues his quiet song, keeping himself awake just long enough for his phone to vibrate with the text from his siblings that they’re home safe. Only then does Magnus hear the notes fade to silence as they allow sleep to claim them.

#malec #clace #sizzy #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #jace herondale #simon lewis #clary fray #FLUFF #friendship and family and happiness #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

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