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alexanderlightweight · 3 months ago

Note

Hello darling~

Prompt for you: Shifters!Malec going on a first date & scent marking?

— Saeth

why do my bf's prompts never let themselves be written in short doses? (because we talk about what they want and basically we both go down plotbunny shortcut and end up in a labyrinth of ideas)

ily even though this was only supposed to be like two scenes of dating and ended up so much longer and yes this will have to be added to but that's what writing wednesdays are for

<3 lumine

i hope reading this distracts you from pain for even a few minutes sweetheart and that you also enjoy it

in the shadow of a flame

There are few truly peaceful places in New York that Alec can find rest safely and without worry of interruption.

The Halls of Refuge is one of the only places that is truly neutral in the entirety of New York and perhaps the whole of the East Coast. It is an imposing building, beautiful and crafted from ancient stone steeped in magic and found in the quarries of the Spiral Labyrinth.

Once one has passed through the entry ward you are then beholden to the rules of the Hall and therefore, fighting is not only discouraged but completely restricted. Even the thought of violence could get you both kicked out and banned.

Alec isn’t pleased at the fact that the reasons he finds it peaceful are because most of his hunters either avoid it out of prejudice or had already been banned, but still, he finds himself also relieved to have a refuge, just as the name boldly states.

The Hall itself had been established at the end of the Uprising, something beyond mere empty words to try and seal the festering wound that has lingered in the shadowworld since before the Accords. It’s been a place of safety for Alec since he was a boy, still training and lacking understanding of the world around him.

Alec is fairly sure that the only reason the hall exists is because its creator, Ragnor Fell had insisted on retrieving the books he’d lent the Clave before the Uprising and the Clave had refused to give them up for good.

Their own pride had played against them, the books now accessible to all and with very few nephilim actually bothered to venture out and study them.

Alec and Izzy were two of the few who did but after the last incident involving Izzy, a fey and a pile of nearly ruined books via bodily fluids — for once not blood — Alec found himself alone.

It was amazing.

The rooftop of the Hall, while developed for leisure, was rarely used during the daytime.

Any vampires staying for the day in the Hall wouldn’t go near the sun and while the architecture was stunning, there were very few plants so the fae folk often preferred the educational greenhouses with rows of bark bound books and stone scrolls.

Alec also liked the greenhouses, but only when they were empty. Despite being a shadowhunter, once he entered the wardline, he apparently became approachable.

Not by many, but by more than he knew how to deal with, especially when he had no idea why they were approaching him.

No one knew who he was here, names were often left unsaid or used in a carefree manner without attaching the weight of legacy and lineage.

For someone who had lived in the shadows but often had a spotlight thrust upon him, it was familiar yet even more discomfiting when Alec couldn’t understand what was wanted from him.

Hence, while he would never take any book beyond the lilac and wisteria covered gazebos — the risk of sun damage to the books despite the spells on them kept him cautious — Alec liked napping on the sun hot stone with the heat of sol warming his fur.

His senses were finetuned enough that any disturbance or intrusion of his solitude and peace would wake him up in time to shift back without a risk of vulnerability.

Or at least, that’s how it had been so far.

—

Magnus rarely visits Ragnor’s little library project in the daytime. Not for any grand reason, but as a habit since he often sleeps during the day.

Today, however, is a boring one and the night before has been uneventful, for once.

Deciding to stretch his wings rather than portal isn’t even a conscious decision, not when Magnus aches to feel the the wind yield to the strength of his wings.

The rooftop — largely left bare by Ragnor as a courtesy for him to land — is occupied, but the presence is calm and contained and as Magnus gets closer, the scent entices him closer.

Landing doesn’t awaken him, even as Magnus realizes that the abyssal lynx lying before him is a shadowhunter.

It’s as surprising as it is a temptation and Magnus deliberately lays near him, drawn as he is by the possibility of an unclaimed and hidden treasure now discovered.

Magnus doesn’t dare actually touch him, not yet when even in sleep he’s alert and wary. Ears sway delicately in the breeze made from Magnus’ wings and yet, when most would startle and panic at the scent of a predator, he relaxes.

His paws twitch in his sleep, making kneading motions in the air as his tail flicks back and forth and he remains asleep, undisturbed even in the shadow of Magnus’ presence.

This could only happen if he found Magnus’ scent and magical aura as enthralling as Magnus finds his.

It’s easy enough to curl around Magnus’ newfound kitten, his form minute compared to Magnus’ own strength and size.

Soon enough his kitten sleeps in the coiled embrace of a dragon.

From nose to tail tip Magnus has formed an ouroboros, containing his treasure without disturbance, not willing to yet wake him.

It’s delightful to watch him sleep, to admire the sheen of black fur, glossy with health in the gleam of sol. Yet as the sun reaches its zenith, hot and bold in the sky without a pity for those under her piercing rays, Magnus grows concerned.

Surely a creature meant for the shadows and the dark is weaker, more sensitive to the brilliance and heat of the sun. Without conscious thought one of his golden wings spreads out in a protective canopy, shielding his gem from the harsh rays.

It is a mistake.

—

Darkness wakes Alec up.

Despite the warmth still surrounding him, the light of the sun against his closed eyes is gone, which means it is no longer safe to rest when night is about to begin.

When he opens his eyes he finds that gold envelopes him even as darkness continues to surround him. Not the abyss of the night, but the dark of confinement, the only light coming from what's keeping him trapped.

Alec should feel panicked, his hackles should have already been raised the moment a presence intruded on him and yet, even now, he’s surprised but unconcerned.

The scent and power of whoever has entrapped him is equally comforting and beguiling. It’s hard to form cohesive thoughts when he wants to rub against the warmth radiating from what he can now recognize as golden scales.

Yet even as the idea crosses his mind, the scales are shifting, gold flickering as the sun is once again allowed to shine as a wing is pulled away.

Alec is still trapped in the coil of an ancient embrace and yet despite the fact that he could — and should — slip away into the shadows he finds himself shifting, despite the more vulnerable state of his bipedal form.

After all, even on two legs instead of four, Alec is a hunter.

As if waiting for him to shift, the dragon does as well and from where he’s sitting on the floor — no longer surrounded by warm, golden scales yet still feeling like he’s been caught in a snare — Alec can’t help but wonder at his own luck.

“Was it too hot? I thought my wing might offer some relief.”

Alec is surprised at the question, at the immediate regard for his well being and concern for his comfort despite being an unknown in a place a dragon rests.

“No,” and despite the fact that he could easily make up a reason, Alec finds himself telling the truth, “I come here for the sun and when it’s gone, I leave.” That’s the best and safest answer he can give without lies or overexplaining.

“A pity,” is all that’s said for a moment and then golden eyes narrow at him with a wicked gleam, “I was enjoying watching you dream, kitten.”

Alec can’t help but glance up at the sky as he frowns, no matter that there is still time before dusk, it’s not worth it to try and sleep again for such a small period. It’s a waste but not one he can change.

He deliberately ignores the heat on the back of his neck.

The last time he’d been called kitten was when he was a child in training, the instructor mocking him had never regained the use of his vocal cords.

Strangely, he doesn’t mind the term from the man before him.

“It’s Alec,” he finally offers, preparing to stand because while he might not mind it in feline form, it feels strange to be sitting when the dragon who watched him as he slept stands tall.

Footsteps sound; deliberate in their movement rather than soundless as Alec knows they should be.

“And I’m Magnus, kitten.”

—

Magnus barely holds back the hungry trill that threatens to spill from his throat.

He’s absolutely precious.

Large hands lined with callouses finally take Magnus’ own outreached hand as he pulls Alexander to his feet.

“Let me make it up to you?” Magnus asks, a thrill in his veins as Alexander’s expression turns contemplative. The pink creeping up his neck extends to his cheeks even as his ears twitch in interest.

“I can’t return the sun to its peak,” well he could, but that wouldn’t exactly get him what he wants, now would it. “But I can take you somewhere the sun is just beginning her reign?”

“Really?” There’s no shock or disbelief in Alexander’s voice, simply confusion. “ Just to make up for something that happened out of kindness?”

If Alexander wants to think that Magnus’ mistake was out of kindness instead of greed, then all the better. A small smirk forms on Magnus’ face and his eyes gleam even as he softens his voice.

“Well, I’m not being entirely selfless,” he lets himself admit and as much as he’d love to brush his fingers over Alexander’s cheek and let his scent linger there, he can be patient.

When the prize is worth it.

“I quite like the idea of spending more time with you, Alexander. As lovely as you were to watch sleeping—” and Alexander’s ears fluff even as a scowl crosses his face at the reminder. “It would be even lovelier to get to know you.”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll like what you learn.”

“Well then, perhaps you’ll just have to let me watch you nap again, hmm kitten?”

—

Aoreatera is perhaps the only place Magnus can think of where the sun is newly risen yet still growing towards its peak this late in New York. The beaches there are lovely and there are more than enough secluded coves that are warded away from mundanes because of the magical specimens found there.

The warlocks born and raised in the cultures of their homeland are the ones to tend to and maintain these places, but entry is allowed when respectful. Especially in Magnus’ case, when his mere presence often brings a new vitality.

The balcony they arrive at is carved into the rock of the cliff itself, nothing but nature and magick were used to make and maintain this place.

Salt is thick in the air and perhaps so sandy a place isn’t the best choice when Alexander’s fur is so thick, yet Magnus has no regrets as Alexander’s eyes widen in delight and his face turns up to welcome the bright sun.

The food available here will be simple and must be self-foraged with a wild but thriving garden and a cove full of fat, healthy fish, most of them of magical varieties. It’s been a while since Magnus’ has refreshed himself like this, actually taking time away from the cloying and seeping feel of mundane cities.

Here, engulfed by wild and pure magick, entranced by natural beauty, Magnus is too tempted to deny himself and so he doesn’t.

—

Alec isn’t sure what he expected when he let himself be guided through a portal, a balcony made of stone overlooking a cove full of rich and thriving tidepools isn’t it. It’s real in a way that Alec hasn’t experienced since his last venture to the snow covered peaks of Idris.

He should be thanking Magnus, or asking what he wants in return and yet Alec has barely taken a few deep gulps of air and then he’s shifting. It’s so much easier to enjoy the warm wind tugging on his fur, his tail coiling in the playful breeze, here than in New York. The sun is glorious and the cliff without threat of shade except beneath the boughs of the large, lush trees and the air clean without the need of magical filtration.

He’s barely shifted before Magnus follows, a large, hot golden muzzle pressing against his side as if in comfort. Alec’s allowance is taken as permission to an unasked question because a moment later, Alec finds himself being groomed.

Magnus' tongue is slick in a way his own rough one isn’t and yet heat presses down, smoothing his fur and permeating his muscles until he feels loose and languid. Magnus’ scent is hot, less fire and brimstone and instead like the fierce heat of sunbaked stone.

It’s not pure destruction but also the creation of new life, of ashes and then rebirth and it’s an intoxicating mix.

He’s saturated in Magnus’ scent by the time the dragon is done and his fur is damp despite how hot Magnus’ breath is. It’s without thought that Alec transforms, relaxed and with slowly blinking eyes he lets himself indulge in comfort so often denied.

Magnus doesn’t stop, his tongue passing over the curve of Alec’s neck and lingering on the arch of his cheek. It’s unexpected but all Magnus does is chuckle, a deep rasping noise like the rumbling of an earthquake before his nose nudges Alec’s side and he inhales.

There’s a deep pause as nature itself seems to hold its breath and then hot — as scorching as a brand — skin presses against his own and arms wrap tightly around his waist.

“Cold?” Magnus teases, the question a whisper of lips on the shell of Alec’s ear. They flutter involuntarily, one brushing back up against Magnus’ mouth as if begging for more.

It should be a hopelessly embarrassing display — Alec hasn’t let himself be so controlled by instincts since he was a child — and yet Alec finds himself desperately wishing that Magnus isn’t offended, but pleased.

Teeth tug playfully at the ear pressed against Magnus’ mouth and then nip, fangs teasing at the tender skin under his fur before retreating. A warm mouth presses against his jaw before Magnus’ forked tongue tickles the swell of his lips.

Magnus keeps going, his nose tucking behind Alec’s ear as he inhales before his cheek presses deliberately to Alec’s neck and he nuzzles.

Alec is going to smell like Magnus, for days.

The only way to erase this kind of marking is with magical tonics and despite how practical that would be, Alec can’t imagine wanting to erase Magnus’ scent when he already mourns that it will naturally fade.

—

Alexander presses back, head tilting in an unconscious submission as he offers more skin for Magnus to scent.

It’s not a sly, careful maneuver but one that means he’s just as entranced as Magnus himself is and it’s as irresistible as it is delightful.

Magnus takes advantage, pressing himself closer and letting his hands finally wander, tucking his fingers under Alexander’s shirt until he can press his hands flush against warm skin.

Every place Magnus touches he made sure to leave evidence of his claim. When Alexander returns to the institute — which Magnus will allow despite his instincts demanding he hide his treasure away — it will be with Magnus’ claim lingering on him.

—

A harsh ring interrupts the gentle symphony of nature as they sit next to each other, watching the tide and Magnus resists the urge to flick his tongue and let his flames consume Alec’s phone.

Even Alexander seems irritated, his face going from soft wonder and serenity to a cold, solemn mask that turns his vibrant eyes dark and serious.

It’s a change that Magnus watches with careful intensity, all of his senses focused on Alexander in earnest.

“Summoned by duty?” Magnus asks, keeping his voice wistful and pushing down the possessive anger that emerges at the thought of Alexander being taken away by another's command.

“For once, duty can wait.” It’s said with a casual carefulness, a deliberate nonchalance even as Magnus can smell Alexander’s emotions warring, as if this is the first he’s ever allowed such a thing.

Yet he did, to stay longer with Magnus.

What a precious and delicious treasure that Magnus has found at last.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #in the shadow of a flame #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #dragon!magnus #cat!alec #malec

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