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yeehawbvby · 2 years

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 28*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n discovers that her first non-passive magical ability is... clairvoyance. 👀

Enjoy and take care x

Author’s Note: n/a

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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It’s the first day of autumn, and it’s fucking raining. Like, pouring so hard that if I were to even try to farm in this, I’d probably wind up drowning the plants before they’ve sprouted from their seeds…

If that’s how plants work? I’m still new to this, leave me alone.

I didn’t rest well, given the contents of the first dream to plague my sleep Yoba help me so I guess it works out.

Knowing Seb’s gonna be busy with work today, and that he probably isn’t awake yet, I send him a good morning text. A little, “I love you, don’t fuck up your codes, remember to drink water specifically and eat, have a nice day!!” sorta deal.

After a long, hot shower, I brew some coffee, make breakfast, and eat it with Cannoli snuggled in my lap. Hearing something other than droplets patter outside my door — probably Joja litter blowing around in the rain, if I had to guess — reminds me to check the mailbox before I get too lazy. So, after finishing my food, I reluctantly get changed into something warmer.

Might as well look cute, just in case I need to go into town or something. Despite the weather, it’s early enough in the season that it’s not quite cold yet, so I’ve decided to wear a skirt. I’ll go with… a black one, today! I pair it with a big red jumper and white thigh highs. My black boots and jacket will pull it all together more for sure.

Deciding to just fix up my hair and face after grabbing the mail, I toss the last pieces of my outfit together and head outside.

The air is a perfect mix between chilly and comfortable, and the rain mixing with crisp air and wet soil has created an eerie fog around the land. Smells nice, too. I’m so fucking happy it isn’t summer anymore. When I finally stop basking in how lovely today’s ~ambience~ is, I make my way towards the mailbox.

There’s only one note in it, aside from the newspaper. Before even reading the envelope, something tells me it’s from Magnus. He always has the prettiest stationary — sometimes a deep blue coated in stars, other times a royal purple with gold flecks pressed into the paper. This envelope is a deep red with silver and gold embellishments. So extra… so elegant. Couldn’t be me.

Hugging the fragile cargo under my jacket, I jog back indoors. After removing my wet shoes and coat, I seat myself on the ground next to Mr. Cannoli, before eagerly opening up my mail.

After reading, I conclude that it was probably Magnus who was making that noise outside earlier – he wants me to come over today if I can, having predicted that I won’t be farming in conditions like this.

But… god, it’s gonna be weird going there after the dream I had. Should I?

I sigh, and quietly consult the cat of wisdom. “What do you think, Old Master Cannoli?” Whoa. Haven’t used this guy’s full name in a while!

He trills at me.

I groan, being all too loyal to my headcanon that any noise in response to my questions is that of encouragement.

I mean… it’s not like Magnus knows about the dream, y’know? All I have to do is not think too loudly — however the fuck that works — and we’ll be good. Right?

Right!

Cool! I got this!

A quick blow out and some light coats of waterproof mascara later, I’m out the door.

_______________

When I arrive at Magnus’ tower, I let myself in. I’m assuming he’s busy, considering he didn’t intrude on my brain when I got close, and he’s reassured me before that I can just… go inside whenever I want, as long as he’s home. I’m sure he won’t mind.

I wipe down my boots on his doormat before removing them, then remove my hood and hang up my jacket on the prongs next to the entrance. Focused on making sure my skirt isn’t riding up or sticking anywhere weird from the rain and wind, I don’t actually look forward until I’m at the entryway to the main room.

When I do shift my vision, Magnus is surrounded by Junimos in the center of his spell circle: all of them speaking over each other, bouncing off his limbs, trying to compete for his attention. In the center, his bright red eyes are blazing with annoyance.

“Release yourselves at once!” he growls.

“Razmatasmodiums!” A small pink junimo exclaims, hanging off of his sleeve with their tiny, twig-like arms and kicking their puny little feet around. Another one, hopping in place and using Magnus’ leg to propel themself into various flips, is laughing with glee. A similarly sized red junimo exclaims “Magic! Magink wisard!” as they wave their arms, trying to be noticed.

…I’m gonna throw up.

I inch closer. Quietly. Cautiously.

This is… just a weird coincidence, yeah?

“M-Magnus?” I mutter, just loud enough for him to hear me over the junimos’ ruckus.

“Ah!” He gasps, his eyes somewhere between red and pink now, as a similar tint consumes his gray complexion as well. “I’m— agh, will you quit it?!” He tries to explain the situation to me as his eyes are swallowed by scarlet again, continuing to be cut off by his little elemental friends. “Sto– confound it, you- Fucking hell…!” He sighs. “(Y/n), would you be so kind as to retrieve that book on the ground? Please.”

Is this some kind of sick joke?

In awe, I pick up the book, and my eyes scan the page as he instructs me on what to read. I find it before he can even finish talking. It’s the same spell I read for him in my dream.

As I abide, the chirping of junimos fills the room, and suddenly, all but one are gone. The remaining junimo looks how you’d imagine an animated wild plum to appear.

Magnus kneels down, and the junimo happily jumps into his outstretched hand.

In a trance, his murmurs to the small creature fade from my ears. I slowly return the book back to its spot, and when I return, I opt for the opposite side of Magnus, nearer to the wall. He places the junimo back down, asking them to tell us more of their background.

I nod along, acting like I’m fine, but I want to fucking scream.

Since arriving, every single thing aside from a few tweaks on my end parallels what I’d dreamt of last night. Right down to the junimo’s story, word for word.

I have to be asleep. This is a new recurring dream. There’s no way this is actually happening, right?

“I merely wanted to commune with the little sprites…” Static noise fills my brain as Magnus finishes his spiel.

Unable to bring myself to respond, I nod.

“Now, seeing as that’s all taken care of…”

Magnus inches towards me until I’m backed against the wooden low trim of the wall. Both of his large arms extend outward, his palms flat against the stones above my shoulders as he effectively traps me in place.

I’m dumbfounded by the intimate proximity. A piece of me wants to tear my widened eyes from his, now a deep, syrupy red. But I feel delectably small below his gaze, and quite frankly can’t bring myself to move even though I absolutely should. I want to run — to get as far from here as possible before I embarrass myself and put my relationship on the line — but something is keeping me glued in place.

He finally continues, “Tell me the truth, (y/n). Were you tempted to laugh?”

Nervous and hesitant, I smile, a giggle exhaling its way out. Can’t help it. It was quite a sight to see, even if it wasn’t my first time. Unable to lie, my answer comes out more hushed than intended.

“Yeah, I was.”

I nervously gnaw my lip as Magnus sighs and rolls his eyes. He laughs, and a chill runs down my spine as I feel his breath on my face.

“I suppose it was quite funny… nonetheless, no one hears of this,” he murmurs, a frustrated rasp adding depth to his already low voice.

I slowly nod, gaze planted into his. My head feels swimmy, like I’m locked into a hypnosis. “My lips are sealed.”

His eyes flicker down to my mouth, as if taking the phrase literally. They linger as he wets his own lips, seemingly tempted by the close quarters. Fuck, he has nice lips. Those stupid, smooth lips. They curl into a devilish grin before Magnus speaks again, and my cheeks feel hot as coal while my core fills with a familiar warmth.

“While I appreciate your honesty, I ought to punish you.”

Oh god.

“Y-yeah?”

“Indeed. You should know not to poke fun at such significant affairs.”

There’s no way it’ll be the same “punishment”… no way in hell.

“How would you do it?” I tentatively ask, fiddling with the collar of my sweater in both hands. As I do so, my fear — which seemed to have dwindled a bit — escalates again.

This is the same sweater I wore in the dream.

In fact, my entire goddamn outfit is the same. I hadn’t even noticed that while getting dressed.

Smirking, Magnus leans down a full, like, almost two feet or whatever the fuck it is to reach my ear, and mutters a quiet incantation against my lobe.

The same spell from my dream.

While I, unfortunately, was just feeling the same feelings from my dream because I’m a stupid insatiable moron who can’t not get frazzled in such an intimate position, nor can I stop thinking about that fucking dream.

“No…” I mouth silently to myself, just as he finishes cursing me.

Everything continues to play out just as that stupid fucking dream had it.

He walks away chuckling.

My chest heaves.

My lungs, head, and pussy ache.

I’ve never had in-depth sexual thoughts about Magnus aside from in that stupid dumb ridiculous fucking dream, but here I am, thinking of all the ways that he could fuck me.

All the ways I want him to fuck me… all the ways I can take his coc–

No.

Eyes wide, I recite myself. Another way of confirming this is really happening.

“W-what did you do?” I ask. It comes out airy and whiny. “Magnus, what the fuck is this?”

“Punishment fit for a naughty apprentice, of course.”

Oh my fucking god, no.

Rather than trying to quench my “thirst” with water like my dumbass self did clairvoyantly, I make way for the cauldron. I can’t safely get any closer to him than this but I need his attention before anything else happens.

“Magnus,” I accidentally whine. His head whips around, his cheeks dusted pink, probably at the way I said his name if I had to guess. “You need to undo this, r-right fucking now.”

He begins to approach me. I almost stride towards him as well. Wanna touch him–

Fuck.

I back away, shaking my head. My hands’re curled beneath my sleeves as I shake them too, out in front of my body, signaling him to stop moving.

“M-Mag–” Mother of god, he is so hard to resist. “Do not go near me, please jus’ undo th’spell.”

Just like in the dream, my speech is rapidly becoming impaired. The only sounds my vocal cords want to produce are moans.

I nearly raised my voice at him a bit and I’m frantic and I feel terrible for acting this way, but at the same time, this is urgent. Can’t afford for it to go on as long as it did during that dream because I will break and if real life were to play out anything like the dream then it would end in Magnus fingerbanging me and then us doing god knows what else.

Hands on my hips and beginning to pace, I breathe out deeply. It sounds like a moan, as far as I can tell. There’s no trusting my judgment with such foggy hearing, albeit I can definitely make out the intrigued hum coming from the wizard nearby—

“Well,” Magnus thankfully stops in his tracks, before saying his piece:

“The only way to stop it is with a reversal spell, conducted by the enchanter…” he motions at himself. “Or, to obtain whatever it is you desire so greatly.” He motions at me.

“Please,” I slur, shaking my head, “Jus’ reverse it.” I pause to curse under my breath, running two vibrating hands through my hair. “Please.”

Taking one step closer, as I take one step back, Magnus speaks with furrowed brows. Almost amusedly. “Most in your position would go running to retrieve the end to their suffering,” he says softly. Knowingly.

I wonder if he’s actually that condescendingly cheeky during–

No!

Before he can say the next line from the dream, I nearly shout, “M’serious, please!”

Flustered tears are now lightly streaming down my face as I force myself to look into his eyes, that have been shifting in color too often for me to pinpoint what he feels.

Eyes that could easily destroy me right now, with a single dark-red glimpse.

Orbs I could gaze into while they look down at me through musky lenses and an absolutely sinful grin.

Eyes that would scan me with incomparable lust while we’re tangled on the purple and red sofa downstairs as he fucks me senseless, a stark contrast to his hands gently worshiping my body… Softly stroking my hair and telling me how good I’m taking him as I writhe against his—

Oh god, I didn’t need to close my eyes to envision all that this time.

This is sooo bad!

Seemingly none the wiser, Magnus continues to examine me. He sighs, concern plastered on his features. He’s doing his best to remain calm around someone who is clearly losing their entire mind. Gotta give him props for that.

“In order to reverse it, I need to know what it is you want so desperately.”

I groan into my hands. “S’this a fucking fill-in-th’blank exam? Are ya kidding?!” I strain out.

Magnus’ deliciously low laugh sends a shock to my core. I wince through a light moan, triggered by nothing more than his sound. Pressing my back against the counter near the sink and clutching the wood, I let out a shaky, airy, needy breath.

I… oh god, I need him.

“I’m sorry, but it essentially is the same concept,” Magnus clarifies.

He seems distracted — maybe even fascinated — by me, as my eyes lustfully skim over his physique against my better judgment.

He’s leaning over the cauldron as he observes me, his long and veiny hands clutching the pot in front of him. Magnus’ black tunic contrasts beautifully against his light gray skin… slightly unbuttoned to expose some of his chest, clinging to his waist perfectly, and the sleeves neatly rolled up his forearms.

He looks irresistible—

No!

I make my way towards the end facing him and clutch onto the metal for dear life. Breathing as though I just ran a marathon.

Staring at the bubbles below me, I prepare to give him my answer. It’ll be so goddamn humiliating, but this is a life-or-death (of my relationship) situation.

“Y-you.” It comes out as barely a whisper.

“Me?” Magnus questions. “What do you mean by—“

“You, Magnus!”

My eyes lock into his pleadingly, as his lids widen as he realizes exactly what I mean, turning that beautifully blood-like red as his cheeks are painted scarlet.

My brows raise and I squeeze my eyes shut, whispering “Fuck!” to myself as more lewd imagery of Magnus fills my head. “I dreamt this,” I anxiously explain. “C-can see th’future now I guess.”

…Or something. If I’m altering what I foresaw, it clearly isn’t entirely true, unless I’m about to bend time or some shit. I swallow harshly, needing a breather, and subconsciously let out a heady whimper as I watch his eyes trail my form. Magnus’ irises are blown wide and his own chest is beginning to noticeably heave.

Holy fuck, is he getting turned on by knowing that he’s the reason for this hysterically horny behavior from me?

That’s…

That’s so fucking hot—

No!

“W-what we did in… w’can’t…”

I shouldn’t have looked at him. I can barely speak after seeing how he just near-shamelessly undressed me with his eyes. I need him so bad. His hands.

His mouth.

His cock.

No!

“Mm– Please, Magnus~”

…Oh god that came out TERRIBLY wrong.

After a moment of what looks like none other than deep moral contemplation, holy fuck this is testing him just as much as it’s testing me, Magnus makes way around the cauldron to approach me.

Doe eyed, I scan his body again. Then I quickly snap-to and begin backing away.

“Wha— No!”

He mutters his next words cautiously and raises a palm softly, as if approaching a feral animal… not that I’m very far off right now.

“I need to touch you.”

I try to ask what he means, but a measly “Huh?!” comes from my throat.

“I cannot free you of this without contact.”

…This is a nightmare. It takes a few seconds before I can bring myself to tentatively nod and stop avoiding him.

When Magnus finally approaches me, rather than touching my shoulder or hand, he tucks away a stray section of hair that was falling into my eyes and cups my face.

I close my lids, trying to ground myself, trying so hard not to cheat on Sebastian against my will. Doesn’t last long before I’m imagining the wizard holding my face like this while he absolutely plows the shit out of me from below, so I open my eyes and try my best to keep them trained on his shirt.

His thumb strokes my cheek as I lean into the sensation. “You seem to respond so… actively, to such a simple touch.”

Magnus’ thumb trails to my trembling bottom lip. Running gentle lines across its chapped edges. Taunting me.

On autopilot, my mouth parts ever so slightly. I crane my head up further to see Magnus’ face, and he has a devious smile on his lips. In his eyes? That same dreamy, aching, smitten, horny look that Seb gives me.

Magnus stalls his stroke once the pad of his thumb reaches the center of my lip, and puts just a smidge of pressure on it; pulling it down slightly, before letting go, and letting my lip spring back into place.

He cups both hands around my face and I swallow back a pitiful moan. I shut my eyes, recall why I haven’t just been hiding behind my eyelids this whole time, and open them again.

“Please…”

“Sorry,” he grins. A frustrated sob bubbles in my throat. “I’ll stop toying with you.”

At last, he speaks his arcane gibberish. As he works, I put my hands on his, unable to resist. Needing to at least feel his fingers being placed against me, if I can’t have the rest of him.

His eyes are shut but I gaze up at him anyway, admiring how beautiful he is and thinking about how badly I want him.

How tempting it is to cup his jaw beneath my palms.

How much I yearn to just climb up him somehow to reach his lips and kiss them, and kiss his little beauty mark, and his perfect button-nose, and lift his hair to see his forehead and kiss there too, and kiss his neck and bite his neck, and—

Upon his last words, my desires dissipate. I can breathe easy and think somewhat straight again. Experiencing this in person rather than in a dream leaves me filled to the brim with want, still... but at least I’m not a monster who’s ready to do anything I can to get laid by him anymore.

I close my eyes as Magnus’ begin to open, super thankful to be able to not see him fucking me when I do so.

“Thank you,” I whisper through a sigh.

Now that I’m not literally in heat anymore, I can decipher that my face is the warmest part of my body. When I open my eyes, I can’t bring myself to look directly at the man in front of me.

This is so embarrassing.

“Now…” he murmurs. Magnus’ hands are still on my face, his thumbs soothingly rubbing against my rosy cheeks, wiping my tears away. “Come inform me of that precognition of yours.”

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 2 years

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@blupjeansweek day 6: family

Lup slips out the door to the small balcony, letting the cacophonous laughter stay inside for a while. She lowers herself to the ground and lets the cool breeze flow through her hair. Having everyone over to her tiny apartment sounded good in theory but in practice, it’s a bit much. She loves having them all here, of course; it’s been so long since they’ve all been together. Distance and everyone being functional adults with jobs makes it hard.

Video calls and texts and letters are great substitutes but nothing quite beats hugging Taako until he starts swatting her forehead or playing rummy with Davenport’s deck of cards that’s older than Lup is. But eventually the air in the apartment got a little too hot and still for Lup’s liking. She gazes up at the moon and takes some deep breaths.

She doesn’t turn as the door behind her creaks open and closed again.

“Babe? You okay?” Barry asks as he settles down next to her on the balcony. She leans against him and nods.

“Yeah, it’s just taking a little out of me. I love family time but all the questions can get overwhelming. It feels like my life’s being evaluated using a very cryptic rubric, you know?”

He shifts and wraps his arm around her, bringing her in closer. “I get it. Have you told anyone yet?”

She shakes her head before all but burying her face in his chest. “Didn’t wanna do it without you. And I’m nervous.”

He laughs quietly and kisses the top of her head. “Aw babe, how come?”

“I dunno, just feels like a big thing. And it is a big thing. But they’re all here asking about graduation and jobs and shit and that’s great but I just wanna talk about us.”

“Then let’s go do it. I’m right here with you, okay?”

Lup takes his hand and kisses his knuckles. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

Barry carefully detangles himself from Lup and rises, offering his hand to her. She squeezes his hand tight before he leads them both back into the cramped apartment.

“—And then I was asked to leave the Home Depot but I wasn’t given a ban like at Walmart, so I consider that a win!” Merle says from his perch on the arm of the couch.

“You know, I’m actually glad I missed whatever the hell that was,” Lup remarks as she and Barry rejoin the group. “And before you can give me any context, I do just wanna say how happy I am to have you all here. It’s always way too long in between visits. I hate being adults.”

“It’s honestly rude that jobs have to come before getting to see the handful of clowns I actually like hanging around,” Taako affirms as he hoists himself onto the kitchen counter.

“It is. But I do hope you’re all going to be free next June. The first, specifically.”

“What’s going on then?” Magnus asks, setting his stack of cards down; from what Lup can tell, he was already losing pretty badly to both Davenport and Lucretia.

She tightens her grip on Barry’s hand and grins wide. “Barry and I are getting married!”

“No fucking way!” Taako launches himself off the counter to sweep Lup up into a hug. Almost immediately, everyone else falls in until they’re all a gross group hug. “Didn’t think Barold here would ever pop the question.”

“Well, he did! So you all better put in time off requests and shit soon because I’m not letting any of you miss this,” Lup says seriously.

“We wouldn’t dream of missing it, don’t worry,” Davenport smiles at the pair before giving Barry a firm handshake.

“So, I’ll catch you both up on the Walmart story before I get to the Home Depot story,” Merle says as he launches back into his tales of garden section hijinks.

Lup cringes but wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

#blupjeans #blupjeansweek2022 #reese writes #not in love with this one but it's cute !#taz #taz balance

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yutahoes · 4 years

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My Girl

pairing : literature major! soccer superstar! Yuta Nakamoto x genius! Reader

word count : 2k words

genre : fluff

summary : He’s perfect and you don’t know why he’s dating you.

taglist : @ailoveyuta @aiforyuu @yutazen01 @cosmiclatte28 @2-3-t-i @nctsplug @dreamlesswonder86 @nuoyipeach

Dating. You weren't sure if what you're doing is correct. But Yuta had never pressured you into something out of your comfort zone so you think everything is alright.

You were on the rooftop, seated on the cemented floor, reading the book you just borrowed from the library. One earphone is in your ear as ballad music can be heard, the other in the person sleeping next to you who has his head on your shoulder. When you turned the page of your book, he shifted his position as if woken up from his nap. "Sorry," you whispered.

Yuta removed the earphone from his ear then lay at the cement where you two were sitting. His head lay on your lap, covering his eyes with his arm. "You should sleep in the clinic, Yuta. You might get sick." You mumbled, closing the book and putting it beside you.

The guy removed his arm to look at you, smiling. "You sound like my wife when you nag like that?"

You giggled. "You have a wife?" You pretended to be shocked that he pinched your cheek, earning a whine from you. "But I'm serious. You should just head home already, you've been practicing a lot these days."

He sat next to you, crossing his legs. "I sleep better when you're next to me. Besides, I have to wait for you. I promised your dad that I'll bring you home safe every day."

You rolled your eyes at that. You still have an evening class today so Yuta decided to wait for you to finish your class even if he can go home early today. "I'm fine really. I can just take the cab home then I'll call you." You tapped his cheeks. "You should head home and get some sleep."

He leaned his head on your shoulder as you thread your fingers on his hair. "I'll leave when you get to class. Message me when your class ends, I'll call you." You nodded, smiling fondly. He's really so lovable. You're really happy to be Yuta's girlfriend like this.

Your class ended early and was supposed to message Yuta when you overheard some women's voice saying his name, "I'm sure he's just playing with that geek." You stopped on your tracks. You don't want to eavesdrop but why are they saying that? And Yuta? He's not like that.

"It is surprising that he started dating her. Maybe she made a love potion and forced God Yuta to drink it."

"Have you seen her? She's not even pretty."

You have to hide before they can see you as you hear their heels clicking on the hallway. Do they think that? Yuta is a school superstar, everyone adored him. So why did he ask you to be his girlfriend? They're probably right. You cannot fit in Yuta's world.

Your phone kept on ringing that night then decided to turn it off. You have exams tomorrow and you don't need any distractions. You don't have to think about Yuta and the whole deal with his fangirls now. You just can't.

Instead of waiting for him, you went to school early and your parents even reminded you to eat breakfast. You were taking out books from your locker when you heard him calling you from across the hall, "Love." You closed your eyes and shut down your locker, walking the opposite way he's coming from. "Baby." You're walking briskly now, staring at the ground to avoid everyone's eyes looking at you. "Y/N." he called, holding your arm to stop you from walking. "Are you alright?"

You can't even look him in the eyes but he held you in his arms, hugging you. "I'm worried. You didn't message me last night. I've been calling. Your dad even said that you left early." He mumbled. He is worried about you. "Are you alright?"

You nodded.

"Are we alright?"

You sighed.

"Did I do something wrong? Is it because I went home early yesterday?"

You shook your head. "I'm just tired." He took the books you're holding, holding your hand tight while claiming that he'll walk you to class. You saw how everyone was looking at you. At him. They might be thinking of the same thing, You don't look good together.

He refused to let go of you even if you reached the lecture room, still holding your hand tight. "What time is your class ending?" He then shook his head. "Let's have lunch together." You nodded. "I love you, Y/N." Again, you nodded to hide the surprise. He said that in front of all the students in the lecture hall. You slipped your hand away from his hold but he quickly held it again, pulling you close. "I'll leave if you say you love me."

You just stared at him as if he's a weirdo. Well, he really is. "Yuta, PDA is not…" But he was adamant even if your professor is just outside the door, blocked by Yuta. The older was now telling Yuta to move but he shook his head, saying that he'll leave if you say those three words. The professor was just looking at you and you sighed. "I love you." You said quietly, earning a smile from him then kissed your nose. He reminded that he'll pick you up for lunch before thanking your professor.

You just stared at your book, suddenly scared at how everyone's eyes were on you. You're not used to the attention. Not used to everyone knowing about you. You normally blend in the background but dating Yuta, the soccer superstar of your school, just made your status higher. And now, everyone might think that you're not good together.

This has got to end.

Then everything went black.

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you easily recognized the place as the school clinic. Why are you even here? "Are you alright? Should I call the nurse?" You turned to the left to see Yuta seated on a chair, next to the bed you're laying at. Why is he here? "Did you get enough sleep last night?" But you just stared at him. "Did you skip breakfast today?"

"Please stop, Yuta." You said staring at him. A surprised expression passed on his face and you sigh. You don't want everything to end like this. But once you're out of that door, the same thing will happen. You'll feel bad about yourself. You'll feel insecure next to him.

Yuta held your hand, kissing the back of your palm. "Did I do something wrong? Please let's talk about this first."

You slipped your hand away from him, turning around that your back is facing him. "I can't do this anymore."

You felt him lay next to you to bed, hugging you in his warmth. If the school nurse comes in, you'll be in trouble. "Do you not like me anymore?" It hurts your heart that he's thinking about that. But really, this is all on you. Deep down, you always knew that you're not enough for Yuta. Even accepting to be his girlfriend seemed like a dream. Why did you think that everything is just fine?

"Why did you ask me to be your girlfriend? You deserve better."

"You are the best. Why would I settle for better?" A groan escaped from your mouth. Yuta and his words. "I asked you to be my girlfriend because I'm in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." You glared at him and he just kissed your forehead. "I wish you could see yourself the way my eyes see you then you'll know how pretty you are."

You don't know what to say. Yuta is really good with his words that it annoys you. You're supposed to break up with him. Why are you falling deeper? "I should be the one asking why you agreed to be my girlfriend. I'm not even that smart and all I know is soccer." You raised an eyebrow at that. What is he talking about? "Do you know how jealous I get when you hang out with those guys from your chess club? I wish I could be in the same club as you are."

"Yuta, they're nothing compared to you."

"Still you can talk to them about anything and I'm just here to annoy you all the time." You had to squint your eyes at him as he laughed at your face. "See? We both have insecurities. So don't think of breaking up with me. I won't let you."

"You're going to see my face for the rest of your life." He grinned which made you laugh. "You're going to get sick of me, Y/N. But I won't let you leave me."

You had to smile at him. Yuta and his words. Really, the dignity of a literature major.

He held your hand tight. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Yuta. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, kissing your forehead. "Let's eat lunch." He held your hand, not letting go of you. You were still nervous about going out of the door but he only smiled at you, assuring you.

You were getting some glances here and there. Maybe it was because you're walking next to Yuta. So you tried to slip your hand off his hold. Before you could create some distance, he wrapped his arm on your shoulder then kissed your temple. "Where are you going?" He whispered that only made you look at him. He gave you a smile which you returned timidly.

"Dude here!" One of Yuta's teammates shouted, gesturing to a vacant chair. Yes, you're dating Yuta but you have never been on the same table as the soccer jocks. That's like a higher status and you weren't ready for it. But your boyfriend forced you to sit with him, even pulling the chair for you that made his teammates tease him.

He introduced you to his friends and you just bowed shyly. "You know Yuta is so whipped by you that we always ask him when he's going to introduce you to us."

"Is it true that you aced the freshmen examinations?" One asked and you nodded.

They looked amused that surprised you, it's boring stuff. "Is it true that you taught Yuta how to properly kick a ball?" You lightly glance at the guy beside you who only smirked. He whispered 'Magnus Force' and you were reminded of the time you saw him at the soccer field, practicing his kicks.

"I think so." You whispered and the guys leaned closer to you. "Why?"

"Teach us how some time." One claimed and you just nodded.

One handed you a Rubik’s cube that made you curious. "I'm having a hard time solving this. Can you do this?" You nodded then taught him what to turn and twist that in no time, he already solved the Rubik’s cube. "Wow, you're so cool!"

"Do you have any sisters?" You shook your head. You're an only child. "Bummer."

The scenario amazed and scared you, why are they suddenly so nice to you? You gave Yuta a look when their conversation went among themselves and he just smiled at you. "I love you." You whispered and he repeated the same three words, giving you a quick kiss on your lips.

"Yah. You two!" One revolted and they looked disgusted that made your boyfriend laugh.

"Are there single girls in your class? Let's do a mixer." Your boyfriend was laughing at the absurd idea of his friends. "Or you can just break up with Yuta and date me."

"Yah! Do you want to die?" Yuta asked that made you giggle.

You shook your head, telling him that you can probably find some girls in your class. "I can't break up with Yuta. He wouldn't let me." You stated nonchalantly.

He grinned, cheeks reddening that made him so adorable. "That's my girl."

Yes, you are indeed his girl.

#yuta nakamoto #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta nakamoto imagine #yuta nakamoto scenarios #yuta fluff #yuta imagines #yuta scenarios #nct 127 fluff #yuta drabble #nct fluff #nct scenarios

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myyoungroyalsblog · 3 years

Text

So the previous episode finished at an interesting moment soooooo

Episode 8

Why is he alone????

Even you better fuckin not

He's making breakfast....... No fucking way that is to domestic for my little gay heart

Oh and the roommate obviously sees how hot Even is lmao

God even Noora lmao

Awww he went straight (ha!) For a kiss

Poor boy is overwhelmed lmao

Okay this is too damn cute FUCK

THEY'RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOUR

Man of his dreams are you kidding me!?!?!? AHHHHHH SCREAMINGGGGG

Say it again. SAY IT AGAIIIIIIIIIIN

Now THIS song is spicy hehe

Omg him singing along to the song so cuteeeee

Now I'm wondering if the answer was A or D lmao

Hi shit he just straight up sent that okay

At least the dad is okay with it

Sana my beloved

Okay so Magnus and Mahdi and what's the others nameeeeeee I really like himmm

Magnus is hilarious I CANT OMFG

His friends are such little bastards I love them

Giving him a hug I can't hahahahaha

Mmmhh okay I think something fishy is going on here how Even says how Sonja is controling (which she might be) but idk

Okay that was weird

Ohh is that why he's asking those religious questions to Sana? Cause his mum is Christian? And might resent her for it or smt?

Yep had that fear

But also the Bible doesn't say that right?

The heart with the I was adorable

But ughhhh I have a bad feeling now

Radisson??? Holy shit

Oh no the weekend music now THIS is made for spicy times holy shit

Hehe spicy time that didn't trigger my repulsion YAS (also the music 10/10)

Our wedding!?!?!? Hello!?!?!?

Okay I would find it cute but now I'm just thinking he is going to fast or maybe controling? Idk I HOPE 'm wrong I just got a weird vibe now

Yeah cool it's one or your dreams sure but what about Isak? What about what HE wants?

Nope nope wait the music is making me nervous

Oh god what the fuck is he doing the in bathroom

Hahaha baby

What the fuck buy some McDonald's? Didn't he just leave naked? Wtf is going on I am so confused

My god poor Isak

Did he go to Sonja?

I am genuinely terrified NO ONE WARNED ME ABOUT THIS

Mhh does he a mental disorder? Cause I keep thinking about that convo in the lockers where Isak says he wants do distance himself from people who are mentally ill and Even reacted to it I think

I don't knowwww I need answerssssss

He's manic? What?

Omg Sonja don't be like that Isak's just a kid jfc

Stay away!? Oh fuck

I want to give Isak a hug

That was a fucking rollercoaster fffffffff

#skam #skam s3 #episode 8 #not yr #mine

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lampmeeting · 3 years

Note

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

#thank you jean!!!!#these are turning out so long omg hahaha #my writing #okay NOW i sleep fdgdgd

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

im so

tired

but

I wanna read this chp because max and Magnus figure their shit out and I have been looking forward to it

I need to be up at 7 for school

it is 2 13am

petition to bring Shafqat Mehmood back he was the one whole closed schools and switched us to online the first time

I need that right now

ok anyway

shit the dreams

oh my love

max honey...

he's hurting Magnus in his dreams...

im gonna cry

“You are not gonna kill bapak.”

He took another breath.

“You are not gonna kill bapak.”

Another one.

“You are not a kill bapak.”

He kept telling himself that.

oh my baby

max please honey you're not going to hurt him

He wasn’t historically great at talking about things anyway.

OOO THIS IS FROM RWRB

but like same

“Hey. So, I’ve been dreaming about killing my father,” Max could say. “Is that normal?”

no that's not normal

you've been through some serious fucking shit of course it's not normal

and yeah it seems weird but max you can't keep it bottled in

it is going to hurt so much worse

do...do other people dream about killing their parents...?

It was more like…It was as if the dream came from within himself.

From his own mind.

From his own heart.

yes that is how dreams work

normally

ayyy the ocean

max doing some good shit

HE GETS PURPLE WHEN SUNBURNT OMG

ELYAAS

And yeah he's right

people are shits

let's kill them im down

I keep on forgetting he has horns

it's a shock every time they are mentioned

LMAO MAX AND RAFE-

it fucking hurts because max keeps on going "Bapak's alive"

baby, please

bapak replied because he usually had no clue where anything was in their house.

NO, BECAUSE SAME

My aunt knows every detail about my house mainly because my brother keeps her updated

our old maid coming back after months: HEYY

my brother already on the phone with my aunt: YO SHE'S HERE

I would be living in the house and having no clue about shit

“Max,” dad groaned. “I’m sleeping.”

“No. You are on your phone.”

“I am both.”

I am gonna send this to my aunt and caption it "You"

THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT SHE DOES

His father groaned and got off the bed. “If it’s there when I check, I am locking you inside the closet.”

“That’s homophobic,” Max pointed out.

ALEC HUIIUCFDUIFUHHUDFVKHK

But then he had seen David in basketball shorts and…well, he supposed a basketball court wasn't the worst idea.

oh my...

AWWW THEM

THEY ARE JUST SO CUTE

“This is angelic discrimination,” Lexi countered.

YES IT IS

LET LEXI FLY

AWW CUDDLING PRIVLIGES

wait to malec know of the tattoo?

MAX JUST SIMPING OVER DAVID HSUSDCYYD

Chopin bestest

“Your demon baby is obsessed with you,” Max pointed out.

Because that's just a thing they said now.

cute

nooo, he left it in Paris?? :((

AHHH THEY ARE GOING SHOPPING

“We are just going shopping,” Max pointed out. “Why are you dressed like James Dean?”

like who?

anyway, David looking hella fine

max...you dont keep a wallet with you...?

how do you pay for shit-

oh right magic

hi random person

oh yeah the blood bending

max :((

I wanna hug him and never let him go

THAT OLD WARLOCK NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP

GO AWAY SHOO

max...whatever you wanna do with the power...be careful and be safe okay? ily and dont listen to others

oof he bent asmodeus' blood too?

noice

uh I mean-

DAVID OMG YOU GOT A CAR

“So, they got you a car?” Max grumbled. “Mine are trying to get me to go to therapy.”

you probably should

I wanna make tea but it is 2 57 am and i do not wanna risk waking anyone up

“I mean, portals are very cool,” Max cleared his throat. “But you can’t make out in the back seat of a portal.”

true so true my boy

LMAO MAX IS A HORNY LITTLE SHIT I ADORE HIM

“Chocolate and your fingers are like my favorite thing to have inside my mouth.”

IM GONNA SCREAM

he's gonna send the pic to Coraline...

<33

hi Coraline

FUCK

please kid dont-

he's not...

please

But this didn’t happen to other people though.

Not to shadowhunters – who only looked cool and sexy with their ‘tattoos’.

Not to faeries – who looked 'so pretty' in their 'costumes'.

fuck im going to cry

MAX YOU LISTEN TO ME

YOU LITTLE SHIT YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SCREW THIS MUNDANE I HATE KIDS IM GONNA PUNCH THE KID IN THE FACE

He had mastered the art of not giving a fuck.

But now…now he wasn’t so sure.

Now he felt self-conscious again.

Now he felt scared again.

Now it hurt.

Because this time, he wasn’t sure whether what the others said was actually wrong.

yeah...it fucking hurts

but we get through it right? it hurts and it takes time but we get to the other side

but the other side isn't fixed

it hurts fuck it really does

but max please baby

I love you

He didn’t have much energy for anything else. So, he laid down in bed and just…well, he did nothing.

that numbing feeling

my love, max take one of those no-nightmare potions

sleep makes it better but not sleep like this

so take a potion or spell or that shit

fuck im gonna cry that dream

baby...

max, angel please be okay

this sucks so much I dont...I cant see you go through shit like this...

alec is just very oblivious, isn't he?

dude, I am literally imagining a horror movie soundtrack playing

And he felt...He felt misplaced.

Like he wasn’t supposed to be there.

you really said: Imma hit this bitch so hard with this chapter

max you need an outlet

WRITE THIS SHIT DOWN FFS

David was the angel.

And then there was Max.

Son of a prince of hell – one that made of pure demon blood.

max you have the purest heart I have ever seen

dont...please dont

But nobody had told him that he’d have to do this shit over and over again.

He had assumed it was a one-time kinda thing.

But no.

When shit happened, the insecurities and anxieties came rushing up again.

And he was back where he started.

it's the same thing over and over again

and it sucks

it really does

you'll find yourself at point A so many times, when you think you're finally over this shit you'll find yourself back there again

and it's going to hurt like hell but my love we have to be strong

it's all we can do

pick ourselves back up and keep on walking

Until one day…Until one day, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore.

angel no

please don't...

even if...even if you do find yourself at that point, I...I hope you have the people and the courage to slowly get back up

because there is so much left to live for

even in times, it feels hopeless

AHJAHHSAXJHSDC MAX WALKING IN ON RAFE AND ANJALI

“I guess you don’t ruin everything,” Rafael chuckled as he sat down opposite him.

fuck

Rafael, I know you didn't mean it like that

“He is a goner for David,” Rafael told Anjali seriously.

arent we all?

“Max,” Rafael groaned. “Stop it, you demon!”

oh max

these days god

it's good to cry

let yourself

“No one,” Max said. “Leviathan is my father. I’m an eldest curse. I…I’m a monster.”

no.

who your sperm donor is doesn't define you

and it never will

“Do you want to hurt people?” Rafael asked.

Max shook his head.

“Then there you go,” Rafael smiled.

THIS!!!

it's a choice to hurt people

“Because you are scared,” Rafael whispered. “Because you are stressed.”

!!!!!

this too shall pass

I feel like that is from somewhere but im not sure

“The shadow world does have a rich history of patricide,” Max mumbled.

“That’s not the kind of history we are going to be a part of, okay?” Rafael asked, holding his face. “Ours is the history of Lightwood-Banes. We don’t kill. We create. We don’t hurt. We love. Do you hear me?”

RAFAEL YES!!!!!

what-ifs are really scary

but here's the thing

we can either dwell on them and push ourselves deeper into the pool, or we can live our life one day at a time, one step at a time, and see what the future holds

what-ifs are terrifying, angel

but we cannot dwell on them too much

“You want me to tell bapak I have dreams about killing him?” Max asked incredulously. “Do you want him to kill me first?”

MAX HBJXYUHDCSUYKDSFCYUDF

im sure he won't do that...maybe

JKJK

About the possibility that Max might destroy his father’s legacy.

About the end of the Lightwood name.

this actually haunts my sleep

it's scary to think that one day, someone might unravel alec's work

it terrifies me

but here's the thing

it might happen, or it might not

for every bad person, there is a good person

and I know that there are going to be people who are always going to stand in the face of destruction and oppression

that gives me hope

He knew he won’t hurt anyone.

He knew he didn’t want to.

But the fact that he could if he wanted…It scared him.

The potential. The possibility.

It terrified him.

He wasn’t a saint. Max knew that.

maybe, yeah

so hold on to people who ground you, who keep you from going there

you know, immortal people

“Yeah,” Rafael said. “You're my brother. You’re the only person who is allowed to almost kill me.”

Max smiled at that. “And Selena.”

Rafael laughed. “And Selena.”

so true bestie

“Max,” Rafael said softly. “Listen to me. There are always going to be people who will call you things. The Clave is changing. I’m doing my best. But I need you to know there will be people out there who will always think of you as a curse just as they will always look at me as a criminal.”

yes

it's unfortunate but it's the truth

you cant hope to change everyone's hearts

some people... are just bad

LMAO ANJALI CANNOT COOK

“I’m used to people spontaneously sobbing in this house,” Anjali pointed out.

“Hey! That movie was fucking sad, okay!” Rafael argued.

“It was a documentary,” Anjali deadpanned. “About silk.”

“It’s called Silk Road! It’s not about actual silk!”

“You do cry a lot,” Max chuckled. “You once cried because bapak forgot your phone number.”

OMG THEM

THIS IS SO CUTE'

I am so Rafael in this situation

“You should,” Anjali said then. “There is nothing wrong with it.”

YES PREACH

“Oh,” Anjali said. “Do you want to kill him?”

“What?” Max blanched. “Of course not!”

“Great. Then don’t kill him,” she grinned. “Problem solved.”

“It is this ruthless efficiency that keeps my Clave intact,” Rafael chuckled.

I fall in love with her more every passing chapter

she's right though

RAGNOR'S BDAY

WHOOP WHOOP

wow everyone is drunk

AHAHHAHAH "Which one?" "Both"

I AM DEAD

MINAAA

oof yeah medicine is tough

you'll make it through im sure ❤️

You can procrastinate as much as you want because you had all the time in the world.

how do I become a warlock

actually, I love being busy

so I feel like I would get bored

I hate staying still

we dont even get much homework GIVE ME HOMEWORK PEOPLE I LIKE IT

im weird

aww Magnus is the one who got them drunk

MAGNUSSS

they are so cute I am going to cry

I forget max is tiny

and Magnus is giant

AW THEY ARE IN PERU

OH FINALLY YES TALK TO EACH OTHER

oh Magnus honey come here lemme hug you, I dont like seeing you in pain

“Because I wanted you to hate me,” Max confessed. “Because I thought I was going to die. And I thought…I thought it would be easier for you if you hated me.”

Max my love no

the thing is, he can't hate you

parents...well it's complicated with them isn't it

they cant hate you...no matter what you do

“Made me hate you?” bapak echoed. “I never hated you!”

“But I said all those-”

“It hurt me, yes. But it didn’t make me hate you,” bapak said softly. "I don't hate you."

im gonna cry someone hold me

these two just...

they are gonna be the ones left

“Why would I hate you?” bapak raised an eyebrow. “What did you do? Did you sell my clothes on eBay again?”

Max chuckled. “No. Also, for the record, Rafael was the one who brought all of them. So, your clothes never really left the apartment.”

Bapak affectionately rolled his eyes at that. “You crazy kids.”

istg this family is crazy

I love these bitches so much~

“You won’t hate me, right?” Max asked in a whisper, remembering his dream. “In a century or two…You won’t end up hating me?”

No. Never

Ah yes, the charango

the charango story is so fucking hilarious

THEY THREW A FUCKING FESTIVAL

aww he broke it

“I’m sorry,” Max said again. “I know I cause you a lot of trouble.”

same.

now I want to go and apologize to my parents

because I really dont make it easy

Max shook his head fondly. “What I meant was…People don’t fall in love with me the way they do with Rafael. I’m…I’m not easy to love. I know that. I don’t make it easy.”

dude, same

let's go sit in a corner together now

“When you came into our lives, Alec took you into his arms and made you his own. But I couldn’t do that. I struggled so much with you. Because you gave me something I never thought I could have. You gave me a family. You scared the shit out of me, Max. I was so scared of you. Never of who you are, but of who you turned me into. A father.”

“You are a good father,” Max said softly. “You know that, right?”

“Because of you,” he said gently. “Because of Rafael.”

Max smiled at that. He squeezed bapak’s hand gently.

“When I found you, I didn’t know how to love you. I didn’t know if I had it in me to love you. But then I got to know you. I fell in love with you slowly, day after day, every day a little bit more, but never any less. But you are right. You don’t make it easy. You don't make it easy to love you, Max. You’ve always been a challenge. But I like a good challenge. I like loving you.”

“I like loving you too,” Max whispered, his eyes tearing up.

“So, don’t ever think I will hate you,” the man said seriously. “Because I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to look at you with anything but love.”

omg

I am gonna cry oh my god

them

finally some good soup

“Because I know my son,” bapak whispered. “Max. You...You got rid of Asmodeus. You did that. For me. Because you wanted me to be safe. That’s the boy I raised. Whoever is in your dream, that’s not you. That’s not my bluebell.”

yes, max

angel you...I love you so much

yeah let's stay away from blood bending

“You can’t lose control of your magic, Max. Not really,” bapak said gently. “Everything a warlock does, it’s a choice. We must own up to those choices.”

“Okay,” Max whispered.

“Your magic is beautiful,” bapak smiled at him. “Treat it kindly. Be good to your magic.”

YES

EXACTLY YOU AMAZING LITTLE SHIT ILY SO MUCH

oh baby

im gonna cry now bye

“I don’t know what to say to that,” bapak said honestly. “All I know is that however much it hurts; you won’t have to go through it alone. I’ll be there. I’m always going to be there.”

they are not going to be alone

it's a tiny comfort

grief becomes slightly easier when there are those around to share it with

The way he only swore when no one was around. The way he giggled when Max kissed his stomach. The way he fiddled with the Lightwood necklace when he was nervous. The way checked on his family before he went to sleep every night. The way he always gave a tiny piece of his food to Dorian Gray before he ate anything. The way he pushed back his hair with one hand. The way he smelled a book before he read it.

write it down

I am serious

“I want to remember everything,” Max said then. “I know…I know that’s like biologically impossible for my brain. But I don't care. Fuck biology. I want to remember. David deserves to be remembered.”

“Then remember him,” bapak said softly. “You do whatever it takes to remember your David.”

yes...remember him

“Max. There will be times when we don’t speak to each other. We might drift apart. Out of anger. Out of loneliness. For so many reasons. It’s a side effect of immortality. But whatever happens, remember that I love you. I will always love you.”

“Even if I may or may not have sold your white Versace shirt on eBay?” Max asked.

they will always find their way back

oh, max...

alec is just so fucking endearing like dude

I want to keep him in a bottle

When they went back home, dad was in the living room, folding laundry. Bapak threw himself at his husband.

“Take me to bed,” bapak whispered into the man’s shoulder.

AWWWW

THESE TWO

“Magic is for important things only,” Max huffed.

“Like turning Rafael’s white shirt into neon pink?” dad asked, holding it up.

“He insulted my hoodie!!!”

“I told Rafael,” dad grinned. “He said ‘jokes are on Max because I call pull this shit off.”

he totally can omg he's so hot

respectfully of course

ANJALI AND RAFAEL ARE BOTH SO FUCKING HOT I PANIC EVERY TIME-

oh yes finally alec isn't so oblivious

“But you can…you have eternity to talk with Magnus,” dad said, his eyes on the floor. “I don’t have that. If you are mad at me or something, you need to tell me now. I don’t want to lose a second of what we have over miscommunications and petty fights. Do you understand?”

alright you fuckers enough immortality talk

but alec bby ily so much and you are so right

Dad rolled his eyes and sat down next to him. “Why does that asshole keep haunting me even after death?”

LMAO RIGHT??

oh yes that beauty

“I know it was a stupid vision. I know it might never happen. But what Asmodeus showed me wasn’t a lie,” Max said. “If anyone ever hurts, bapak, I will destroy them.”

Dad didn’t say anything. He was just looking at Max intently.

“I know the Clave is important to you. I know you built all of this, and I know growth isn’t linear and people make mistakes and I know all of that. But I don’t care. I don’t care about the law or the covenant or the clave or any of that. I’m sorry, dad. But I don’t want to lie to you. No one gets to hurt bapak. If the nephilim ever fucking dare to try, I won’t hesitate to set the Clave on fire. I will burn it all down.”

max I will fucking help you

no one hurts Magnus Bane

I HAVE KNIVES

DON'T FUCING MESS WITH ME

YES ALEC YOU GO MY BOY

MY UNHINGED LITTLE SHIT

“When I am dead and gone, I don’t want people to remember all the laws I created or all the battles I fought in. I want them to remember how much I loved your father.”

I WILL LITERALLY SCREAM OMG YES YES YES

“Someone like Asmodeus would never understand how love could be more important than power,” his father said, his blue eyes burning. “So, fuck him. Asmodeus was wrong. You will not disappoint me. You will not break my heart. You will not destroy my life’s work. Magnus is my life. So, if anyone hurts your bapak, then go ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked in a whisper.

“A century from now or five centuries away, if anyone hurts Magnus, you will unleash hell on them,” his father said sternly. “Do you understand?”

Max looked at him, swallowing all the emotions. “What if it's the Clave? What if the law fails him? What if the Clave hurts bapak?”

“Burn it down, my baby. Burn it all down,” his father smiled. “You have my blessing.”

THE LAST LINE SIR-

that is so hot ngl

“Holy shit,” Max laughed. “I thought you were the sensible one in the family and but you are just…you are seriously unhinged, dad.”

Dad chuckled at that. “Where do you think you get it from? Leviathan? Pfft. It’s all me, bud.”

SEE??

THIS BITCH UNHINGED AS FUCK

aww a sea shell that's so cute

reminds me of vva

gasp

he's writing it down

yes David...he is wearing a suit

OH MY GOD WE FOUND THE THING THAT TURNS DAVID ON

oh my god, David-

it's always the quiet ones...

Thank god - and Magnus Bane - for portals.

I thank Magnus Bane every day

“I do not have a suit kink!” David chastised.

Max laughed. “Everything you did in the last hour contradicts that statement.”

NJXSHUICDSUICDUIDF

that sums up me right now

oh baby...

“I know…I know I am a piece of shit,” Max said, wiping his tears with his elbow. “But I am not a bad person. I’m not a bad person, David.”

you're not. you're not a bad person, angel

“If you were a bad person, I wouldn’t let you inside my heart,” David said. “I keep you there, Max. I keep you inside my heart. You earned the right to be there.”

im gonna fucking cry

“Listen to me, Max. I know people say we shouldn’t listen to what others think of us. But that’s easier said than done. I know how hard it is to drown out all that noise. Sometimes it feels like it’s all you can hear.”

“Yeah,” Max gave a shaky nod.

“When you feel that way, come back to me,” David whispered. “Come back to my voice. I will help you remember who you are. For as long as I am there, I will help you remember.”

“Help me remember,” Max said, resting his forehead against David’s now. “Tell me. Please.”

“You are the boy who ran to hell to save his love. You are the boy who gathered the entire shadow world. You found out you have the power of a prince. The power to destroy realms. But the first thing you did was march into hell and destroy the demon who has been hurting your father. That’s who you are. Remember that boy. That’s you. A person who is selfless. A person who fights. A person who loves. Max. Remember. You are a good person.”

Max clutched David tightly. He kissed the shadowhunter’s shoulder.

“And no matter what happens, you will always be the boy who passed out when he saw me naked for the first time.”

THIS WHOLE THING THEIR LOVE

this is so fucking cute

I am gonna miss Max so fucking much I am about to cry. It is also 4 40 am...gonna try and get 2 hours of sleep gn <3

BRO.

This reaction just made realise you, max and I have a lot in common.

I think the three of us should sit down (preferably at the beach) and talk about this.

You in??????

#evie boo thang #lbaf

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maandarinee · 3 years

Note

what are all the podcasts you listen to?

anon I'm so glad you asked

Since it is a pretty long list including synopses (stolen from the podcast feed or website because I'm Bad at summaries and in some cases it's been a while since I listened) I'm going to put it under a cut.

I've separated the list into "Complete" (either finished or cancelled) and "Ongoing" podcasts. Some have additional comments by me. Current favorites are marked orange. My eternal beloved are Our Fair City and Wolf 359.

Complete

ars PARADOXICA: "When an experiment in a time much like our own goes horribly awry, Dr. Sally Grissom finds herself stranded in the past and entrenched in the activities of a clandestine branch of the US government. Grissom and her team quickly learn that there's no safety net when toying with the fundamental logic of the universe."

Blackwood: "Five years ago, Molly Weaver, Bryan Anderson, and Nathan Howell started a podcast focused on the local legend of a monster called The Blackwood Bugman. Quickly, the investigation grew out of their control, as they discovered that, not only are the legends seemingly true, many people in Blackwood have turned up dead or disappeared without a trace." --> [this feels like the Blair With Project, but as a podcast. Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

Dreamboy: "Dane, a spun-out musician spending the winter in Cleveland, Ohio, has two main goals: keeping his job at the Pepper Heights Zoo and trying not to waste all his time on Grindr. What he doesn’t expect is to get swept into a story about dreams, about forevers, about flickering lights, about unexplained deaths, about relentless change, and about the parts of ourselves that we wish other people knew to look for. Oh, and also a murderous zebra." --> [very NSFW; does cool things with music! Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

King Fall AM: "...centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants." --> [cancelled after 100 episodes, ends on a huge cliffhanger]

Our Fair City: "A campy, post-apocalyptic audio drama." --> [I know the description sounds like nothing but just trust me, I love it so much]

Steal the Stars: "...is a gripping noir science fiction thriller in 14 episodes: Forbidden love, a crashed UFO, an alien body, and an impossible heist unlike any ever attempted."

Stellar Firma: "...a weekly Science Fiction, Comedy podcast following the misadventures of Stellar Firma Ltd.'s highest born but lowest achieving planetary designer Trexel Geistman and his bewildered clone assistant David 7. Join them each episode as they attempt to take listener submissions and craft them into the galaxy's most luxurious, most expensive and most questionably designed bespoke planets. However, with Trexel's corporate shark of a line manager Hartro Piltz breathing down their necks and I.M.O.G.E.N., the station's omnipresent and omniinvasive stationwide A.I. monitoring those necks to within 3 decimal places, they'll be lucky to make it a week before being slurried and recycled into raw human resources." --> [semi-improvised, I thought I'd have a problem with the improv bit because that's not usually my thing, but no, I absolutely devoured this]

TANIS: "...is a serialized docudrama about a fascinating and surprising mystery: the myth of Tanis. Tanis is an exploration of the nature of truth, conspiracy, and information. Tanis is what happens when the lines of science and fiction start to blur." [+ spinoff The Last Movie] --> [I have no clue what the hell is going on here]

The Black Tapes: "...is a serialized docudrama about one journalist's searc for truth, her enigmatic subject's mysterious past, and the literal and figurative ghosts that haunt them both."

The Magnus Archives: "...is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"

Time:Bombs: "...a new audio drama podcast about the hilarious world of bomb disposal. Ride along with EOD technician Simon Teller on the busiest night of the year for him and his team - when business is, quite literally, booming."

Wolf 359: "Life's not easy for Doug Eiffel, the communications officer for the U.S.S. Hephaestus Research Station, currently on Day 448 of its orbit around red dwarf star Wolf 359. He's stuck on a scientific survey mission of indeterminate length, 7.8 light years from Earth. His only company on board the station are stern mission chief Minkowski, insane science officer Hilbert, and Hephaestus Station's sentient, often malfunctioning operating system Hera. He doesn't have much to do for his job other than monitoring static and intercepting the occasional decades-old radio broadcast from Earth, so he spends most of his time creating extensive audio logs about the ordinary, day-to-day happenings within the station. But the Hephaestus is an odd place, and life in extremely isolated, zero gravity conditions has a way of doing funny things to people's minds. Even the simplest of tasks can turn into a gargantuan struggle, and the most ordinary-seeming things have a way of turning into anything but that." --> [starts funny, turns very intense]

Ongoing

Alba Salix, Roya Physician (+ The Axe & Crown): "A witch, her apprentice, and her fairy herbalist treat the ills of a fairy-tale kingdom." + "Gubbin the troll tavernkeeper deals with his clueless new landlord, his shady niece, and some new competition."

Archive 81: "A found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound."

Arden: "A (fictional) true crime podcast about cold cases and the reporter and detective who try to solve them."

Brimstone Valley Mall: "The year is 1999. Lurking somewhere between Hot Topic and the food court, five misfit demons from Hell kill time inciting sin in a suburban shopping mall. When the lead singer of their band goes mysteriously missing, the demons only have two weeks to find him before they play the biggest gig of the millennium - or face the wrath of Satan herself."

CARAVAN: "First rule of Wound Canyon: No one who gets in, ever gets out. So when a brilliant, ghostly specter flies through the sky amid the rain and lightning, Samir stumbles off a steep cliff and into a hidden world, one in which demons, vampires, and all other manner of paranormal creatures take sanctuary." --> [also pretty NSFW and horny in general]

Death by Dying: "The Obituary Writer of Crestfall, Idaho finds himself deeply in over his head as he investigates a series of strange and mysterious deaths… when he is supposed to simply be writing obituaries. Along the way he encounters murderous farmers, man-eating cats, haunted bicycles, and a healthy dose of ominous shadows." --> [I had to stop listening to this in public because it kept making me undignified laugh and snort noises]

Desperado: "Blood magic, Voodoo magic, old gods, new gods: We've got it all! Follow the story of misfits from all over the world, as they try to survive and protect their heritage from modern-day crusaders."

EOS 10: "Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight."

Girl In Space: "Abandoned on a dying ship in the farthest reaches of known space, a young scientist fights for survival (and patience with the on-board A.I.). Who is she? No one knows. But a lot of dangerous entities really want to find out. Listen as the story unfolds for science, guns, trust, anti-matter, truth, beauty, inner turmoil, and delicious cheeses. It’s all here. In space."

Janus Descending: "...follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place. Told from two alternating perspectives, Janus Descending is an experience of crossing timelines, as one character describes the nightmare from end to beginning, and the other, from beginning to the end." --> [absolutely harrowing horror]

Love and Luck: "...is a fictional radio play podcast, told via voicemails and set in present day Melbourne, Australia. A slice of life queer romance story with a touch of magic, it follows the relationship between two men, Jason and Kane, as their love grows both for each other and their community." --> [soft and gay, feels like a warm hug]

Potterless: "Join Mike Schubert, a grown man reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, as he sits down with HP fanatics to poke fun at plot holes, make painfully incorrect predictions, and bask in the sassiness of the characters." --> [the only non-fiction podcast on the list]

Primordial Deep: "When a long extinct sea creature washes up on the shores of Coney Island, marine biologist Dr. Marella Morgan is contacted by a secret organization to investigate the origins of the creature’s sudden and unnatural resurgence. Soon, she and a team of experts find themselves living on the research station The Tiamat, traveling along the abyssal plains as they search for answers far below the waves. But there are dangers in these ancient waters. Reawakened, prehistoric monsters are rising from the deep -- jaws wide and waiting, and in the darkness, something is stirring."

Red Valley: "No one at Overhead Industries wants to talk about defunct research station Red Valley, and account man Warren Godby is out of his depth. When he meets Gordon Porlock, a disgruntled archivist with a bag of tapes from the station’s last known occupant, they will begin a journey to the limits of experimental science, confront horror and trauma from the past, present and future, and try to remember the cheat codes from Sonic the Hedgehog 2."

Rusty Quill Gaming: "An actual play podcast following a mixed ability group of comedians, improvisers, gamers, and writers as they play through the extended, tabletop roleplaying campaign Erasing the Line, an original game world of the GM’s crafting." --> [took me a while to get into because I have trouble focusing on non-scripted things, but eventually I got really hooked on the plot and attached to the characters. This podcast is really fucked up at times if you think about it]

SAYER: "A narrative fiction podcast set on Earth’s man-made second moon, Typhon. The eponymous SAYER is a highly advanced, self-aware AI created to help acclimate new residents to their new lives, and their new employment with Ærolith Dynamics." --> [feels like Welcome to Night Vale but narrated by GLaDOS from Portal]

StarTripper!!: "Join Feston Pyxis on a road-trip through the cosmos, as he leaves behind his old life in search of the best and wildest experiences the galaxy has to offer!"

The Amelia Project: "...is a secret agency that fakes its clients' deaths, then lets them reappear with a brand new identity! A black comedy full of secrets, twists... and cocoa."

The Big Loop: "...a biweekly anthology series. Each episode is a self-contained narrative exploring the strange, the wonderful, the terrifying, and the heartbreaking. Stories of finite beings in an infinite universe." --> [I don't like anthologies, except this one]

The Bright Sessions: "Dr. Bright provides therapy for the strange and unusual; their sessions have been recorded for research purposes." --> [think X-Men, but with therapy instead of a school]

The Deca Tapes: "Recordings have surfaced of ten people that are locked into the same space together. We don’t know where they are, or if they'll get out. But the answers must be somewhere on these tapes."

The Silt Verses: "Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories."

The White Vault: "Follow the collected records of a repair team sent to Outpost Fristed in the vast white wastes of Svalbard and unravel what lies waiting in the ice below."

Tides: "...is the story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces. She must use her wits, sarcasm and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected." --> [think The Martian, but on a water planet]

Unwell, a Midwestern Gothic Mystery: "Lillian Harper moves to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents."

VAST Horizon: "Nolira is an agronomist tasked with establishing agriculture in a new solar system, but when she wakes up on a now- empty colony ship, the whole of her plan disappears. The ship has been set adrift, with numerous mission-critical problems requiring immediate attendance outside of her area of expertise. Nolira is aided by the ship’s malfunctioning AI, which acts as her confidant and companion during the fight for survival."

Victoriocity: "Even Greater London, 1887. In this vast metropolis, Inspector Archibald Fleet and journalist Clara Entwhistle investigate a murder, only to find themselves at the centre of a conspiracy of impossible proportions."

We Fix Space Junk: "...follows seasoned smuggler Kilner and reluctant fugitive Samantha as they travel the galaxy, dodging bullets and meeting strange and wonderful beings as they carry out odd jobs on the fringes of the law."

Welcome to Night Vale: "Twice-monthly community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, where every conspiracy theory is true. Turn on your radio and hide."

Within the Wires: "Stories told through found audio from an alternate universe."

Wooden Overcoats: "Rudyard Funn and his equally miserable sister Antigone run their family's failing funeral parlour, where they get the body in the coffin in the ground on time. But one day they find everyone enjoying themselves at the funerals of a new competitor - the impossibly perfect Eric Chapman! With their dogsbody Georgie, and a mouse called Madeleine, the Funns are taking drastic steps to stay in the business…" --> [one of THE funniest podcasts I have ever listened to]

#ask #anon #please talk to me about podcasts at all times #podcasts #podcast recommendations

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glitchtech-industries · 3 years

Text

Bang Bang

Magnus flipped a coin between his fingers, showing off to his friend, Pamille. The girl watched in awe, as he did seemingly impossible things with the coin. He tossed it in the air, spun it on his middle finger, and made it dance.

"Cool, huh?"

She nodded and leaned against Magnus. He smiled at her and pushed a hand through her hair. She was adorable to the teenager. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead before continuing their walk.

The large building was easy to point out to the two. It was their workplace and it was hard to miss. A huge pink and white building with "GlitchTech Industries", very hard to miss.

"It's such a nice day! Maybe we should go to a park later!"

"That would be nice," She signed.

Magnus looked around the area. It really was a nice day. He sighed and closed his eyes. There was a stinging sensation in his brain that he was trying to ignore.

'There's nothing wrong. Everything's fine.'

"Stop that man!"

There was a man who ran past the two. Magnus' eyes widened and tried to grab Pamille's arm, but she took off. She ran after the man and reached down to grab his pant leg. She was able to and pulled on it, making the man trip and fall. When he turned around and glared at her. Pamille backed up and looked around, hoping someone was pursuing him.

"You bitch! I'll get you!"

The man pulled out a gun, and Magnus' face paled. He wasn't thinking when he ran over to her when he heard the gun cock. He moved in front of Pamille and tried to activate his quirk, but it was too late.

BANG BANG

The man ran away from the scene and left the two. Pamille's eyes opened and looked at her friend. He was keeping himself upright on the wall and turned to smile at her.

"Hey... you're okay..."

He slumped against her and she held him, before turning him around. There were two bullet holes in his side. Pamille gasped and quickly picked him up.

"Pamille- no... you shouldn't carry me..."

Pamille frowned deeply and pulled him onto her back. He'd done so much for her.

---

"Alright! Time for two worlds to meet! Purcell, Pamille, this is Magnus and Rento. Rento, Magnus, this is Purcell and Pamille."

The two duos nodded at each other and Glitch bit her thumbnail.

"The sucky thing is there's a language barrier. The girls speak French and the boys speak Japanese."

"Parlant français? Alors, je m'appelle Magnus!"

Pamille and Purcell's faces lit up at Magnus' French. Glitch's eyebrows raised and smiled at him.

"You really are a genius, huh?

"Heh, yeah, I am. Pamille's a pretty name, y'know."

Pamille was taken aback by the compliment. As the others, the ones who were able to speak, talked amongst themselves, Pamille was focused on Magnus. Suddenly, she walked over to them and hugged Magnus.

"Hey-" Rento objected, but Rento was taken aback when he saw Magnus' reaction. His best friend was crying. Silently, like normal. But... the tears were just slipping from his eyes.

"Magnus..?"

"I... I can't remember the last time I got a hug... that was like this."

The memory was saved in both their minds.

---

The first time he let her into his lab was about 2 weeks after they were introduced to each other. Pamille looked around at the lab.

"Y'know, if you were to bring me into a lab a while ago, I'm sure I would have broken down into tears... however..." Magnus smiles at the room, "This is a tech lab. It's amazing and doesn't remind me of where I used to be."

Pamille cocked her head and walked over to him. She pulled a notepad off of the counter and wrote "What happened at another lab?" before handing it to him. He read it over and frowned.

"I... have been friends with Rento for a long time. Through our friendship, there was a time when we were the closest we'd ever been. When we were kidnapped by these scientists."

Pamille gasped and covered her mouth. Magnus snorted at her reaction.

"Yeah, it was awful. They prodded at my brain and made me 'smarter'. That's why I know so much French. How're you doing with your Japanese lessons?"

Pamille gave him a thumbs-up before grabbing the notepad and writing something in Japanese. When she handed it to him, a smile broke across his face.

"As a certified genius and Japanese citizen, I approve."

The memory was saved in both their minds, but it was a turning point in the trust factor in their relationship.

---

It was about 4 months since the two duos had met, and it was a special day. Pamille's birthday. She got a "Happy Birthday" from Rento, a card from Glitch, and a kiss and a few knives from Purcell. However, she hadn't received anything from Magnus. She went to the lab and looked around. Magnus was putting something in a box before he noticed her.

"Ah, Pamille! You know you can't sneak up on me! My ears are too strong!"

Pamille frowned at him and pulled on his lab coat sleeve. He knew from her face and the way she pulled on his sleeve that she was upset. He patted her head and smiled.

"You thought I forgot? Don't worry, I didn't~"

He handed her the box and she looked at it. She opened the box and pulled out the contents. It was... a giant lollipop.

"Oh, and a membership for a candy shop nearby."

He handed her a card and she directed her attention back to the giant lollipop.

"Click that button right there."

She clicked a button that was on the stick of it and when she did, the lollipop transformed into a giant battleax.

"Tadah! Your very own battleax! I made it special for- Oh!"

Pamille hugged him and he hugged her back.

"Glad you like it, Pam."

---

This was the least she could do. She carried him to the building and when she got into the lobby, she couldn't see anyone there. Why would she, the lobby was her job.

She wanted to scream out. Let anyone know what had happened. She couldn't use her phone, since she needed both hands for carrying Magnus. He might be dead. She wasn't strong enough, and now Magnus could be dead.

"Pam..."

She heard his weak voice, letting her know he was still alive. She carried him to the elevator and desperately mashed the floor the lab was on. The doors finally closed and the elevator was silent. On any other day, it would be anything but silent. Magnus would be talking about a new invention or an update on his favorite anime.

Pamille didn't like the silence.

The doors opened and she lumbered out, dragging him into the lab. Pamille was a strong girl, but natural strength can only take a person so far. When she entered the lab, her legs gave out and she fell to the ground.

"Pamille?"

Thank god Rento was in.

The young boy went to check on her and gasped at the scene. He quickly picked his friend up and carried him in and placed him on a table. He then carried Pamille into a chair before working on his friend.

---

Magnus was stabilized. Rento and Pamille looked at him in his hospital bed. They each had downcast expressions.

"What happened?"

"A thief I think. He had a gun and Magnus' quirk didn't work fast enough."

Rento nodded and looked at his friend, "You're always putting yourself in danger, Magnus."

"It's my fault."

"It is not your fault. He chose to save you."

"I went after the thief."

"You did the right thing."

"I don't even have a quirk."

"That doesn't mean anything-"

Pamille slammed her hands down on the table. She was breathing heavily and wheezed.

"Pamille... you can say anything to me."

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

Pamille grabbed the notepad and began scribbling angrily. She shoved the notepad into his hands and crossed her arms. She watched his eyes as they scanned across the page and watched as they widened.

"...I see."

That was a response she'd never heard. Most people said, "I'm sorry" or "That's so sad". She knew Rento wasn't the best with feelings and past experiences due to his own.

"So... you really can't."

She shook her head. He looked back down at Magnus who was still in his coma.

"This is the most peaceful he's looked."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Even when he was asleep, he wouldn't be this peaceful. He'd be moving, he'd be talking. Sometimes even shouting. I can't blame him, he went through some awful things."

"You did too."

"So did you."

Pamille nodded and watched Magnus. His chest rose and fell; up and down. He really was peaceful.

---

It was a week.

A week since he was shot. Pamille spent all day every day, by his side. She wished each day for him to wake up.

"He kissed me once, he kissed me twice, and kissed me once again..."

Pamille was asleep in the chair, an old portable radio.

"You'll never know how many dreams..."

That was a different... yet familiar voice. Pamille opened her eyes and saw Magnus with his eyes opened. He was softly singing along to his favorite song. Pamille's eyes widened and she stood up, wheezing.

"Don't strain yourself."

Rento ran in and ran over to the bed, "Magnus! Your thing sensed a spike in your heart rate!"

"Wow... I made you forget a word. Impressive."

Rento teared up and cried, a smile breaking out on his face. The two friends hugged Magnus carefully, and he hugged them back.

"So, uh, what did I miss?"

"Does that even matter? How're you feeling?!"

"Uh, it so does matter. Were we attacked? Did Percy get a boyfriend? C'mon, guys, I need answers!"

Pamille pulled on Magnus' sleeve to get his attention.

"Yes, Pam?"

"I want you to promise me something."

"Yeah?"

"Never change."

#bnha ocs #glitchtech squad #pamille #rento #magnus #injury tw

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bibliocratic · 4 years

Text

TMA jonmartin fics

Organising these, mostly so I can keep track to be honest. All some flavour of jonmartin, predominantly fluff or angst. cws in original tags.

Updated as of June 2020

If you'd like to send any prompts, feel free! All of these are also bundled together on A03.

Martin tries to rescue Jon from Elias, post-160

JONAH MAGNUS Oh, but, look. Look at him, Martin. Isn’t my Archive magnificent?

MARTIN [whispered, almost fearful] Yes.

Martin feels the pull of the Lonely. Jon draws a bath.

“Come on,” Jon says, enfolding their hands together. His voice is kind, and that’s never died, no matter how the world bricked it up and starved it of sunlight. Jon’s kind to his bones, and it wells up from the deep down of him.

Jon pulls the way, and Martin follows behind.

Even after Jon stops being the Archivist, they aren’t safe. (parent!AU)

“I would like to propose an idea,” Martin says. Softer now. More tired. “and I-I want you to hear me out.”

“OK.”

“Whatever it is.”

“You’re not exactly inspiring confidence.”

Martin gives him a Look.

“OK,” Jon says, rubbing his thumb over Martin’s knuckles. “OK, I promise. Whatever it is, I-I’ll at least listen.”

Martin's nightmares never quite leave him

Martin feels the question form there, at the centre, the tentative journey it traverses before he hears 'Can I…. I mean, do you want to…?’

The question isn’t fully born before he’s heaving great waves of sobs into the chest he’s pillowed on. Like clockwork, the arms come round, always an inch too tight a grip, and somehow that makes this easier to bear.

Things were always going to catch up with them eventually

He’s a light sleeper, and they knew he would be. Didn’t want him to wake too soon, to be denied a proper welcome. Jon shifts and stretches and burrows as he slips dazedly into consciousness, nestling tighter against the body next to him still fast-asleep before the thick weight of sleep is dropped and he jolt up, a punched out breath of shock escaping them.

And finally they are witnessed. They watch his expressions free-fall from understanding to despair.

Local Man cheats at card games, Local Avatar is smitten

Martin likes playing, not necessarily competitively, but where he does excel is in cheating. Jon catches him swapping out a three for a queen out of the corner of his eye – well, Martin wants him to catch him – and his smile is wide and shocked and gleeful in his own way –you cheat! How could you?!

soulmate-identifying marks, or: fuck yeah tattoos

“The Archivist?” Peter Lukas asks. His voice isn’t mocking. Martin isn’t sure what it it.

He hates the tone of it.

“Do you want something?” Martin responds curtly. Frosty. Tugging his sleeves back down pointedly. Peter’s expression is ever so proud.

Something is wrong. Martin just can't put his finger on it.

“Sorry,” Jon says, without sounding sorry in the slightest, almost cheeky. He bestows another kiss that is not a kiss to Martin’s neck, scraping a little with his teeth.

“Sleep,” Martin repeats, groggy but firm, and traps the soft, unblemished skin of Jon’s hands in his own.

Martin has certain standards

Jon feels a wide smile begin on his face (still so rare, still hard-won, but Martin teases them out of him with the smallest things these days).

“You hipster!” he says with delight, secretly pleased he’s found something he can tease Martin about. “Have you thrown out my teabags just to make a point?”

Jon wakes up and finds Martin gone

– Something is absent from us. –

Jon opens his blinking, feeble human eyes. Feels around with his finger tips, feels the cool sheet next to him, the unoccupied imprint on the pillow.

Martin is not next to him.

Jon strikes a bargain to save Martin

Martin is blinking away the sediment build-up of unshed tears and they roll down his face, shrivelling in the strict grip of the cold.

“I thought,” he says thinly, “I thought I was going to die alone.”

“You aren’t going to die,” Jon bites out, and it only has the ghost of a furious intensity but the sentiment soaks in it. He feels the Loneliness recede, with a slowness that’s impartially mocking. “You aren’t going to die. I won’t let you.”

Martin showing normal, genuine human anger, feat. Blackwood Snr.

“Right,” comes the short response. “I am – you know I am trying here.”

Martin’s voice goes low and flat and judgemental.

“And how long until you lose interest this time?”

MLM solidarity front, or: Tim and Martin go drinking

“I mean – I – I’d like to. If you – if you still want.”

Tim grins, and his cocksure manner is on display like a theatre curtain lifted. He stands up, doing a stupid little bow like he’s trying to make Martin laugh.

“t'would be my honour to lead you astray, Master Blackwood.”

Back-and-forth early morning teasing

“It’s a bit late to tell me you’re a dog person,” Jon chides instead. “I’m afraid I might have to call this whole thing off, if that’s the case.”

Martin looks up at him with his face squashed into his ‘you are not, and have never been funny, Jonathan’ face.

Martin hides an injury. Jon is freaking out in his own way.

He can taste grit and dirt in his mouth and there’s a stinging dampness on his upper lip. He blinks, coming to terms slowly, and it’s then that he realises, just from a brief glance, that Jon is absolutely fuming.

Jon is getting better at expressing what he wants

Jon reaches out, and like setting fingers to the board of a violin, delicately fits his hand against Martin’s. Like he’s memorised exactly the places where they go, the coves and shorelines where their islands can align.

Martin’s grip has never been as careful. His fingers engulf Jon’s smaller size, cushioning them in a sturdy grip.

How to proposal to your boyfriend during an apocalypse, and definitely how not to.

Jon tries to write vows.

Domesticity and going on holiday, post Watcher's Crown

“Jon!” Martin is shouting with his head shoved in the under-stairs closet. “You got your raincoat?”

“I won’t need it,” comes the low response from the kitchen.

“The weather said it might rain.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jon replies, only half listening really, with a willfully misplaced confidence in the weather.

“I’ll pack it anyway,” Martin calls back, kicking something else with his foot that sounds like the hoover. “In case.”

Jon does not react well to ending the world. Martin puts together the pieces.

Under the watch of that terrible sky, Jon crumples like something demolished.

Martin catches him. He always will, he remembers thinking.

In the Lonely, Jon hugs Martin (set mid-159)

Jon’s arms go around him, and there is nothing tentative, soft-shoed, there is no awkward displacement holding him slightly at a distance. Jon’s arms go around him, and he – his body unfolds against Martin’s. There is much too much of him, a surge of all-at-once motion and Martin feels like splintering.

Martin's not the only one susceptible to the Lonely

He hears the wash of mile-distant waves, as though behind the shelves to the front of the shop, and thinks not here, not here.

He tries to shake his head loose of the fog beginning to bind it like cobwebbing wisps. But the world has such terrors in it, and the Archive keeps record of them all. And that’s what Jon is, in the end.

The day-to-day ramifications of being a record of ceaseless terror

In the dark, under the covers, the sound is the shift of grave soil, of pressing earth, but it is also Martin, ensconced in warm empty dreams, Jon trying to breath through his nose and not wake him up, and it can be all of these things at once.

Supportive Martin and the Eye-based horror his boyfriend sometimes turns into.

“Stop.”

The rats stop. So does Martin. The scream bubbles un-made and unvoiced in his chest and he can’t blink the blood out of his eyes. He can’t see Jon, but he doesn’t expect to. It’s not Jon that’s here with them any more.

'I'll stay right here, ok?”

“The ambulance will be here s – ” Martin starts, trying to be gentle, but Jon tightens his grip ever so kindly, shakes his head.

“I don’t think I’ll be waiting around for that,” he says, and it’s almost light-hearted in the face of what they both know is now inevitable.

Patron swap, Lonely!Jon, Beholding!Martin

It is a surprise to no one that upon taking over the Institute, Peter Lukas turns his hand at trying to steer Jonathan Sims to the Lonely.

In the days after the end of the world, Jon finds Martin a gift

“Woss, what’s wrong?” Martin starts, but Jon’s pressing something into his hands firmly, so self-satisfied, joyous and smug with a mysterious success, and he feels his own grin start to blossom in kind, wanting to take part in the same delight. “What is it?”

sleep doesn't look pleasant, spoilers for 161

Martin won’t wake up. Eyes clenched closed, breathing laboured, and for a long while, Jon’s world gets quieter as his own immediate louder fear rises like gall in his throat. He tries compelling him even.

Jon doesn’t know that this will happen every time Martin dreams.

Jon is admitted to hospital. Martin frets.

Jon nearly died today, his brain keeps reminding him. You nearly lost him, you nearly weren’t fast enough.

Trans!Jon, Trans!Martin, intimate rituals

Jon’s hair is getting long.

Morning rituals, Jon admiring the view.

But he much prefers this slow and lazy unwinding of a day because he gets to study Martin. He puts his elbows on the wooden table off to the side of their pokey kitchen, and enjoys watching an artless, intimate one-man performance just for him, as he acclimatises to the day.

Scottish honeymoon, soft get-together

Martin wonders why Jon didn’t go upstairs. Take the bed. The cottage is an old crofter’s place, two small and utilitarian bedrooms where they discarded their meagre belongings on arrival.

Martin looks at the tea. Feels the scarf under his head, the heavy coats weighing him down.

Thinks he might know why.

Monster!Jon, AU S5

“What the fuck are you?” she says. She does not lower her weapon. The guard to her left has raised her own.

All of its eyes blink out of rhythm as its unseen mouth moves with that croaking, piteous whisper. “He’s, he’s human, he’s hurt and he needs – he’ll die, please.” The man it is carrying looks human. Painted with dirt and filth, the slick of insects broken over his skin. His breathing is starting to rattle.

Tim is mildly cursed, S1 shenanigans

Whoever is closest, but usually Sasha, will give a sarcastic cheer. To which Tim – cradling his injury, glowering with a fire-starter expression at whatever file or paper or fragment dealt the blow – will reply: “Piss off, right, it’s not funny, I’m cursed. This is a curse.”

OG Archive crew sad hours

There could have been a day, when they’d all just talked.

Martin struggles to readjust to the world, post 159

Some days though, when the tempest around has dropped from squalling, Martin feels brave enough to look over at Jon.

Jon and Martin’s post-s5 wish list

“Martin?”

“Hmm?”

“After all this, after we’ve – what do you want to do? If we manage to – ”

“When we manage to.”

“Fine, when all this goes back to the way it was, what do you want to do?”

Safehouse drabble

Jon doesn’t sleep but this rest is as close to peace as this world allows him.

AU S3, Breekon and Hope take Martin, not Jon.

Tim always thought Martin was reliable. Unshakeable.

That he was always going to be there.

Martin’s daemon is a spider. People have mixed feelings about this.

“Aron,” Martin says slowly. He keeps his hands folded on his lap but his fingers twitch to reach out. “This is – we’ve settled, haven’t we?”

Aron can’t nod. His form can’t allow for such an expression. But he brings his legs in closer, pebbles up and won’t look at Martin, and that’s answer enough.

Aspec Martin Week - Daemon!AU

Martin has always liked watching Emer. The flash of gossamer-white wings circling Jon’s head or sat on his wrist like an overly-extravagant watch while he read statements.

“Stop looking,” he used to hiss at the moving lump under his shirt, poking many orb-like eyes over his collar to stare even when Martin stopped. “It’s rude.”

Aspec Martin Week - Martin’s first Pride

Restored from their dramatic hangovers, Monday comes. Martin arrives huffing and delayed from the Tube to see Tim’s stuck his flag so it stands battered and proud over the lid of his laptop. Sasha’s made her small desk teddy bear hold hers. And it’s the memory of the day, the sun and the heat and the wild dizzying lack of expectations of it all, that gives him the courage to bring the flags he carefully preserved in on Tuesday, to put them jutting out of the mug on his desk that holds his stationery.

Honestly, he doesn’t expect anyone to comment on them. It’s not like anyone else comes down to their offices anyway.

Aspec Martin Week - Martin comes out (with help)

You surge against his lips again so he can’t see your nerves, you stupid, unfounded, calcifying anxieties, the barriers you keep putting up yourself because you are so terrified of being happy.

“Maybe… not tonight?” you mumble into your shared air. If he pushed, if he asked again, you would. He dragged you from the shoreline, out of the fog, this is the least you can give him. You’d lie on your back, or you’d cover him with your shape, and you’d try so hard to make him happy so he wouldn’t notice you not sharing the same. “’m a bit tired.”

Tricky, is what you are. Perjurious. Prevaricating. Two-faced.

Martin is a massive fan of Jon’s multitude of eyes

“I just want to see,” Martin mimics petulance and Jon huffs a smirk.

“They are my eyeballs,” he responds primly, putting down a dry mug and picking up a plate to towel off.

“What’s the point of having horror-bestowed physical improvements if you don’t show them off?”

Martin worries about being a father

That’s not – ” Martin says, stops. Pulls his hands away from his face, his eyes puffy.

He takes Jon’s hand, still perched on his knee, laces their fingers together. Over the baby monitor, Jon can hear the soft untroubled in-and-out of their son breathing.

“I sounded like my dad,” Martin confesses finally. Fat tears well up and stagger down his tear-prickled cheeks. “I sounded exactly like him.”

Martin and Jon get wine drunk

Jon sticks out his tongue. Martin tries to poke it with his finger, and Jon reels back with another one of those wine-laden expressions, earnest and open as a window.

“I want to know everything about you,” he says, struggling with finding the opening at the top of the pack, before he pauses, dutifully following up with a no-less sincere and concessionary: “But not if you don’t want to.”

There’s nothing sexier than open and honest communication (post-166)

“I fucking hate the Buried,” Jon says into Martin’s shoulder.

“It sucks,” Martin agrees. “You er – you have any more poetry this time?”

Martin feels Jon’s ‘no’ like an earth tremor over his breastbone.

“Worms,” comes the reply muffled shapeless into his coat.

“Like…normal worms?”

“People worms.”

“Rrright. Less fun then.”

Martin has some thoughts about the Web

Martin does not think about spiders.

(Except he does.)

Did you feel, Jon had proposed delicately, like she was influencing your mind at all?

Jon’s world has no certainties. No maps, boundaries, no promises that can remain unquestioned.

Martin has the edges of his world now. He has to be able to trust in them.

Jon gets hurt and doesn’t tell Martin

Jon burns when Martin puts a hand to his forehead, and he won’t wake, not for Martin’s calls and shakes, not for anything. When Martin goes to check, the wound on his leg has rooted from ankle to thigh, festering rot-black branches of something sludgy and swollen and varicose tracing the same lines as his veins.

The Corruption wars with Beholding upon the battleground of its Archive, and there is nothing Martin can do.

Martin still struggles with his mental health

It was easier, Martin thinks sometimes, when he could blame it on the Lonely.

Episode 170 could have gone so many different ways

This is your house, we whisper to him.

You have always been here alone, we promise.

We recite to our beloved that he has never been loved, and our winds, our walls, our winding mists tell him so often that eventually he believes us.

#tma #long post #jonmartin #the magnus archives #fic #prompt fills #jonathan sims #martin blackwood

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illdesigns · 4 years

Note

44 Magnate!

44. Tentative kisses given in the dark.

ooooh this came out far, far sadder than i meant it to oops

Nathan wondered if this was smart. If any of this was a good idea. He remembered his mom chastising him for thinking about asking out a girl he worked with a few years back. Don’t get involved with coworkers like that. Apparently there was a taboo. He remembered Pickles making an offhand comment that working in a band was like working any other business if you wanted to get big. Apparently they were coworkers too.

So maybe this wasn’t smart.

That also didn’t take into account the man in front of him as a person or how the two of them meshed together. Nathan wondered why someone who, by virtue of being almost ten years his senior, wanted to butt heads and argue with him so goddamn much. So many little things - the drama of trying to start a successful band and of five men living together bubbling together in the worst soup possible. But then there were little moments like this. Nathan could see the bonfire in the distance, hear music and laughter, but there was just this. The darkness was cut through with the orange of the fire and the blue of the moonlight, casting odd and contrasting shadows over the two of them.

It made it easier to forgive Magnus when they were like this. Stumbling over tree roots that stuck up from the dirt, leaning on each and muffling laughter as they got further and further from the rest of the party. Nathan couldn’t help but be curious as to why their absence was never missed. They both cut a nice, imposing outline, though Nathan was usually a little bit more noticeable than Magnus due to the width that accompanied his height. But nobody noticed when two of the biggest guys ambled off. He anxiously wondered if people did. If it was an open secret people whispered to each other.

So, we all know about Nathan and Magnus, right?

“C’mere,” Magnus’ voice was low and husky as he almost collapsed against a tree. He opened his arms and shot him a crooked smile.

He was drunk. He was always drunk now. If he wasn’t fucked up somehow, that’s when the arguments happened. Nathan didn’t know how to bring it up to him. But fucked up Magnus was the old Magnus from two years ago. Not angry or ready to bite someone’s head off but happy and chill and funny and cool. The Magnus that had sparked something in Nathan he couldn't name for months when he had first seen him.

“Well?” Magnus asked expectantly. There was a concerning flash of the other problem with Magnus now. He had always been sensitive but something seemed to have kicked that into overdrive recently. So his face fell when Nathan didn’t immediately fall into his arms. “Nate?”

Nathan tried to shake the thoughts and doubts from his head but when he saw Magnus like this, open and vulnerable, his mind flashed like warning sirens. Like it was less like a human exchange and more when a cat would lay on its back. A cloying move to bring in a hand to pet its belly, only for it to spring up all claws and teeth. But he still found himself in Magnus' arms. Bark scraped his palms as he set his hands next to Magnus' sides and he smiled. It was more sad than he meant it to be, because when he was around Magnus now he was more sad than he meant to be. But he stayed.

"Nate," it was a breathless little purr. Magnus' hands cupped Nathan's cheeks, bringing their faces close, noses brushing together. "Kiss me."

There was that sense of mourning that seeped from Magnus' being. The same mournful feeling that Nathan got when he awoke from dreams, or nightmares, or whatever they were. A woman's words of warning, lost as he woke up. A sharp pain in his back. A sting in his knuckles and the memory of bones that were not his breaking under them.

"Please," Magnus begged. Nathan could almost see himself in the dark glossy brown of Magnus' eyes, even as his pupils threatened to swallow them up with a deep blackness.

Nathan leaned closer, hands on Magnus' waist, and he obliged the pleading. His kiss was soft as his mouth ghosted over the other's and just as Magnus got what he wanted, he pulled his head away.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked quietly. “Do you hate me?”

"No, no," Nathan whispered against his cheek, bringing him into a tight hug. He felt sharp fingernails dig into his shoulder blades as he held him. Heard a sharp hitching of breath. "Never, dude."

Magnus exhaled against his skin and Nathan kissed his cheek reassuringly. The rough skin of Magnus' face was wet but Nathan kept quiet. He had run out of things to say. So he acted, leaving those same soft, unsure kisses across Magnus' cheek, his ear, his jaw, wherever he could reach. For all his age and wisdom and posturing and personality, Magnus felt frailer in his arms than Nathan ever expected. He felt human. Human hands that felt like claws on Nathan’s back. Human tears that left the taste of salt on Nathan’s lips. Human gasps for air as if he was drowning in the surrounding trees. Human hair that tangled in Nathan’s fingers as he pushed it away from his face, as if Nathan could see him in the dark.

Somehow, it was always easier to see Magnus in the dark. It was easier for Nathan to pretend things were okay. Because even as Magnus hung onto him with as strong a grip as he could muster, it felt as if Magnus was slipping through his fingers like sand. He was losing him. You didn’t need intuition to see that things were very wrong with Magnus suddenly - but Nathan saw it up close and personal as Magnus turned to him with every problem, every burst of anger, every cry in the middle of the night. There was nobody for Nathan to go to with this, for too many reasons. So all he could do was kiss him and tell him things were okay.

For now, they were okay.

#rowan's mtl tag #mine

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naturesgender · 4 years

Text

oh my god this lunar interlude is so sweet :’))) here are my thoughts as i go (kind of, i listened to the magnus part while i was out so i couldn’t take notes then so i just kind of had to remember) under the cut! (now edited to include character work)

ooh magnus is gonna get stealthy!! and i got my wish about seeing more of carey!! she’s super cool i love her

wait are she and killian,,,,, oh my god power couple power couple power couple i fucking Knew It

carey being awful at carving ducks and accidentally making one with two asses is So Funny to me

wait how Did he get that scar?? now i’m curious

OH MY GOD HE MADE CAREY A RING FOR HER TO GIVE TO KILLIAN,,,,,,,, OH MY GOD,,,,,,,,,,, THE SEROTONIN IN THIS EPISODE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,HOLY SHIT,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

aw high five :’)))

ooh merle time!!!! ok what’s this funky lil lad gonna get up to

oh my god okay tree puns right off the bat. yep that’s merle

oooh hold on. the director?? and merle?? at a spa?????

i just remembered that she has a name aside from The Director i forgot what it was i’m gonna look it up

lucretia!! that’s right!!! nice name

oooh Personal Growth that is my jam

oh my god ok. he chose pan as his patron deity because. pan has a cool beard.

ok yknow what yeah. i can see them being friends. i can actually see them being really good friends. i can totally see it

“what’s this purple shit you’re drinking?” “grape juice.” “how old is it?” “125 years old.” “yeah well yknow there’s a name for grape juice that’s 120-something years old!” “that was what my jokes sound like.” “yeah, we’re gonna - we’re gonna work on that.”

:’)))

taako time babey!!!! taako from tv!!!!!!

but first i go and get a snack

ok i’m back it’s taako time

ANGUS IS GONNA LEARN MAGIC

also taako’s being nice!!!!! we love to see it

ok well kind of

angus is such a sweetie i adore him

BACKSTORYYYYYYY

aw he ate the macaroon all by himself :(( and there weren’t many presents under his candlenights bush :(( and it was the highlight of his holiday :((((( i would be giving this poor baby so many hugs if i were in this world

oh no wait,,,,,,,,, he killed a bunch of people?? or just. injured them???? it sound like he killed them oh no oh my god oh shit

he’s becoming a baby wizard!!!!!!! i’m so proud of him

oh shit. oh shit. he is threating this child. oh shit. taako what the fuck. taako sir what are you doing. taako he is a Child. taako what the fuck. taako. sir. stop it. stop it.

every time they say prestidigitation i think they’re being silly

oh???? oh????? scorching ray?? not prestidigitation??

oh shit the macaroons :((

oh shit???????? what the fuck??? why the wall???? a shape??? L??????

wait hold on. hold on i know where this is going

I WAS RIGHT

oh my god

ok yknow what. i bet. i bet she was the red robe he took the umbrastaff from. i am kind of hoping that’s not true bc that would mean he’s probably gonna have to fight her but based on what i have tried very hard not to see i think that might be right. i think she might be. the red robe he took the umbrastaff from when they went to the lost mine of phandalin

ok that was a Wonderful lunar interlude and i am gonna move on to the leveling up/fantasy gashapon/fantasy costco section now but oh my god. i think this is one of my favorite episodes

oops i posted this pre-emptively accidentally so i will come back and edit it when i’m done with the next section

i feel so bad for leon that’s pretty much all i have to say about fantasy gashapon

on the items they got:

i want that armor i rlly want that armor

zone of truth glasses!!

taako you fucking asshole

FANTASY COSTCO, WHERE ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE (GOT A DEAL FOR YOU!!!!)

i can’t decide whether i hate or love garfield the deals warlock. he definitely has some sort of sinister intent

ooooh multiclassing!!!

:)))) all my serotonin comes from this podcast (and my friends)

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faejilly · 5 years

Text

our souls inhabit

so this was originally supposed to be a small Snow White ficlet, (from the POV of the Prince), and it sort of... grew? It is now more of a general Malec Fairy Tale AU, with a sprinkling of my favorite dream tropes. Many thanks to @rutherinahobbit for making sure it’s vaguely coherent for the rest of you <3 The title’s from e.e. cummings’ if being mortised with a dream... as were the last five attempts at a title, because the whole poem’s kind of perfect, but I suppose now that I’m publishing we’re all stuck with this one.

His mother tries to kill him when she realizes what he is.

He runs.

Deep into the woods, where no one ever goes. Deeper still, lost and alone.

Until he finds a house, and in the house is a man, a man with green skin and horns, a man who doesn't flinch at the sight of Magnus' eyes. The man's name is Ragnor and he invites Magnus in, feeds him and tucks him into a bed in the attic, and for the first time in a long time Magnus sleeps without nightmares.

He dreams though. Meets a boy while he's sleeping, an absurdly pretty boy with pale skin and messy black hair, a boy who seems about the same age as him, whose eyes are like the shadows in the woods, brown and green and glinting with warmth like sunlight. He's sitting stiffly on a stump that looks exactly like the one Magnus was on when Ragnor found him.

Are you lost? Magnus asks, and the boy frowns.

I think that might be better than what I am.

Magnus can understand that. He's apparently half-monster, horrifying enough even his mother can't bear the sight of him.

I'm sorry, the boy offers, his eyes damp as if he's trying not to cry. My mother had to run away without me, to save my sister and the baby on the way, but at least I know she didn't want to leave me behind.

The boy's mouth doesn't move, and Magnus realizes neither of them are talking out loud, but they seem to know what they each mean despite that.

I'm sorry, too. Magnus sits on the stump next to the boy, and the boy leans in, just a little, 'til their shoulders press together. They neither of them 'say' anything else, just sit there as the sun shifts and the winds blow through the dream-forest around them.

Magnus wakes, and feels better than he has since he saw his eyes flicker into sight in the bucket of water he'd pulled up from the well the morning his world fell apart.

He grows there, in the house hiding in the woods, taught by Ragnor about what he is, and what he can do. He tries to stay alert, to watch out for that inevitable moment when the man grows tired of him, grows impatient, when the man finally says he's had enough.

It never happens. Ragnor makes him breakfast every morning, helps him brush the mud out of his clothes when he gets caught out in the rain, lingers with him in the garden after lunch, smiles at him over the edges of his books, and always answers every single question Magnus can come up with in the same steady tone of voice.

Ragnor seems to like him, and the night Magnus hugs him before he goes to bed, Ragnor just hugs him back, and pats him on the shoulder when he lets go.

"Sweet dreams," Ragnor says, and Magnus doesn't even try to hide the smile as he wraps himself up in his blankets that night.

Sometimes his dreams are still dark, memories and worries spiralling around each other. Sometimes they're sweet, newly discovered flowers or treats, impossible spells and improbable views, warm and comforting. Sometimes they're of the boy from the very first night, the prettiest boy Magnus has ever seen, much prettier than Magnus feels he could have imagined on his own. Not all the time, not any sort of consistent or expected schedule, but sometimes Magnus goes to sleep, and there he is.

Those are the best nights.

They don't talk much, not even the silent sort of words that form in dreams, but they find comfort in each other as they explore the dream-forest, finding a rabbit warren or a new fairy ring, a cold-sweet spring or a wide-open clearing, a mirror of the world Magnus is getting to know when he's awake. They always end the night at that same familiar stump where they first met, sharing shy smiles or small waves before the dream fades away.

It's nice to have a friend, even one that probably doesn't really exist.

He learns to hide his eyes, settles into the glamour Ragnor taught him, and his dream friend frowns, and asks why he changed them.

I like your eyes, they're pretty.

Magnus tries not to blush, manages a shrug. Most people think they're scary.

People are stupid.

Magnus laughs. Except for you?

The boy blushes, and shakes his head. Except for you.

They boy's barely a boy anymore, taller and ganglier, long arms and legs, hands hanging from his wrists like he's not sure what to do with them. Sometimes he looks at Magnus through half-closed eyes, his lashes thick and dark, and Magnus forgets how to breathe.

Magnus thinks he's the prettiest boy he's ever seen.

Then again, he hasn't spent much time around anyone besides Ragnor and his dream-friend in something like ten years. Ragnor gets visitors sometimes, old Warlocks or Fae stopping by for tea, but they don't usually have much to say to Magnus. They go to some of the towns near-by occasionally, shopping for supplies or seeing a show, but it's still usually just them, lingering in the cool green shadows of the woods.

Magnus wonders what he's missing, somewhere out there.

Tries not to wonder if maybe he could find the pretty boy, somewhere in the real world.

He talks to Ragnor about leaving, a little, about what he should do with his life, with his time.

He's got too much of it just to stay here, lingering and waiting for something to happen.

Magnus mentions that he's thinking of going on a trip to his dream-friend, finally, and the boy's eyes grow wide, and he shuffles his feet, and his mouth tightens just a little.

Magnus waits.

My name's Alexander.

Magnus blinks. That wasn't any of what he thought his friend was worried about. I'm Magnus, he answers, and the boy, Alexander, smiles at him, wide and delighted.

Maybe you'll find me out there somewhere, Magnus.

Magnus swallows, and shrugs, and lets himself hope. Maybe.

He doesn't.

He meets Werewolves and Vampires and Fae. He learns of the world beyond the woods, human kingdoms and cities, people and monsters and heroes. He goes looking for more people like him, like Alexander, like Ragnor, children lost and alone who don't have anyone else waiting for them, who don't yet know how to hide what they are, how to find people with whom they don't have to hide.

Sometimes he helps them settle where they are, with a friend or a partner, makes sure they know how to call him if ever they need his help.

Sometimes he brings them back to Ragnor, to warm tea and cool green shadows, lets them learn, just as he did, how to set their worries down, how to breathe. The house shifts, and every time he's there his room is the same, but there's another guest-room in the attic now, sometimes two, a place for someone else to rest and recover and learn.

Every time he's there he dreams, at least once, of his boy who isn't remotely just a boy anymore. Alexander's a young man now, tall and broad-shouldered, taller than Magnus, with a strong jaw and heavy eyebrows, but still there's that same soft light in his eyes every time he welcomes Magnus back home.

Magnus leaves again, and again.

Magnus meets Camille, who is beautiful and sharp and brilliant and forever. He loves her, and she loves him, and they dance and fight and fuck, they fall together and break apart over and over again.

He returns to the house in the woods regularly, even when he's not carting someone who needs sanctuary in tow. He spends a year or five discussing books and plants and Ragnor's terrible taste in tea. He dreams of Alexander, with his sweet smile and the shadows in his beautiful eyes. He cannot help but be glad that, for as long as the two of them wander their woods, the tension he glimpses in Alexander's posture eases, and his eyes look a little lighter by the end of their visits than they do at the beginning. They smile at each other, here, no matter how tired they might be when they're awake.

Magnus talks about collecting ingredients for potions, about the house's garden and the way it's grown over the years. Alexander talks about archery, and the sound of rain against library windows, and training his new horse.

Magnus talks about traveling, about new sights with every dawn, new people over every drink at night. Alexander's smile seems sad, but he asks more questions, always more, and Magnus wonders where he's trapped, wonders at how carefully he never mentions the names of the people he knows, as if he's afraid, even here, that someone might overhear.

Magnus tries not to think too much about how many years have passed, how many times he's looked for Alexander out there in the world, how he's never found the slightest hint of him.

He meets Imasu, who is sweet but fleeting. George who dies too young. He meets more souls who might love him, but leave him for something more steady, more human. He goes back to the woods to nurse his heavy heart when it gets too much to bear, and Ragnor makes him tea, and his Alexander meets Magnus in the shadows of his dreams and smiles.

Magnus smiles back.

But the dreams aren't every night, and sometimes Magnus wonders what they mean to Alexander, how they fit into the life he lives in his own waking world.

I miss you, Magnus says, and Alexander only shrugs, half-agreement and half something else that Magnus doesn't understand. It's not regret, or hope, but it's not not either of those things either.

They wander their woods, which look much the same as they ever do, eternal and barely changing, just like them.

You always come back, Alexander says instead of good-bye, when the dream starts to fade around them.

I'll always be waiting, Magnus thinks he hears as he blinks awake, but he's not sure if it's real, or only wishful thinking.

Magnus' heart heals, and news from the world trickles even into these woods, and eventually Magnus leaves again. But he always comes back, to Ragnor's warm silences and Alexander's warmer eyes.

Sometimes Magnus asks Alexander if he'd like Magnus to stay, here in the woods where their dreams intersect, but Alexander always says no, shakes his head with a smile. You're never gone that long, and I like to hear about the world you see.

So different than the one he lives in, clearly.

How long since the last time you saw me? Magnus asks. Because he wandered almost twenty years this time, and he may be immortal but that's not nothing, even for him.

Maybe a week? Alexander answers. Why? How long was it for you?

Magnus shakes his head a little. A thousand times as long, perhaps.

Alexander goes still, so still it seems that even the trees could move faster than him, if they so decided, and he sighs out one long heavy breath. Oh. That explains a lot.

It does?

But Alexander doesn't explain. He just smiles again, something sad and sweet both at once, and leans in close enough to brush a kiss against Magnus' cheek.

Magnus blinks in surprise, but before he can even lift his hand to his cheek to feel the phantom warmth from Alexander's lips against his skin, he wakes up.

He gets a message from Catarina only a few days later, asking for his help with a squabble between some Vampires and Werewolves that could too easily escalate into a full-blown conflict, and he leaves the woods without getting to see Alexander again. Not that he's ever been able to control the dreams, or ever known when they're to be separated, but it aches more than usual this time, not getting to say good-bye.

He meets Camille again. She's still beautiful and brilliant but something in her eyes has gone brittle. He tries to be soft enough to soothe, but she just gets sharper, and when they drift apart again this time it's almost with relief.

Back and forth for years, for decades, the house, the world, Ragnor and Catarina and then Dot and Elias, Tessa and Zoe and on and on... Alexander in his dreams, now and then, though it's less often than it used to be, even when he lingers in the woods for years.

One night he finds Alexander at a make-shift archery range, pulling his bow back so far his arms tremble, blood on his hands from where he's let the string snap, let the fletching catch as his arrows fly free.

Alexander. Magnus lingers, a few steps back, magic sparking between his fingers, desperate to reach out and offer comfort.

Alexander chokes, the sound rough and sudden enough to make Magnus' throat ache in sympathy, to make his eye burn with the echoes of grief.

Magnus steps closer.

Alexander, he thinks.

Alexander drops his bow, turns, and Magnus wraps him in his arms.

Alexander's trembling, his breath hot and shivering against Magnus' neck, his fingers digging into Magnus' shoulder as he grips him tight.

My father's dead.

Oh, darling. Magnus hugs him tighter. Alexander has occasionally talked about his mother before, his sister, the baby he never got to meet. He wonders about them, hopes they're all right, somewhere out there. Alexander barely mentions his father, his jaw always tight and his eyes too bright, as if he doesn't know what to feel, what to say, and it's clear his father's death hasn't made that conflict any easier.

Magnus holds him, lets his magic free to heal the physical damage, at least, and Alexander doesn't cry.

Magnus feels hungover when he wakes up, but there's nothing he can do for either of them.

When he dreams again, Alexander acts like none of it ever happened, but there's a shadow in his eyes that no longer fades, even when he smiles his usual soft greeting at Magnus. He's hiding, Magnus knows, but he doesn't know how to help lift Alexander's burden. (Alexander clearly knows that Magnus knows, offering an embarrassed smile and a small shrug. Alexander doesn't know what to do, either.) Magnus does his best to provide a sanctuary, at least, and hopes it's enough, even when they're apart.

Magnus finds his father, entirely by accident. And then he flees him, this terrible Prince of Hell, this darkness that twists and turns and laughs, even as blood spills, even as magic burns innocent lives to ash.

His father follows.

Magnus banishes him. He's not sure if it worked, or if Asmodeus is humoring him, biding his time until he can try again. He considers isolating himself, exiling himself somewhere far away from anyone he needs to protect from the shadows of his father's gaze. But he can't quite make himself do it.

He can't bear to be so alone.

Magnus runs back to hide in his woods, to shelter in Ragnor's care and Alexander's comfort until he no longer wakes up screaming at the memories of hell in eyes that looked just like his own.

Alexander asks him about his magic, asks how old he is, asks how often he comes back to the woods.

Magnus tells him, and thinks they both feel better for it.

Alexander asks him about curses, and hexes, asks about the Fae and Vampires and Demons.

Finally figured me out, did you?

Magnus tries to make a joke of it, but Alexander won't let him flinch.

No, of course not.

Alexander pulls him close, his gaze steady and sincere in a way Magnus has never seen anyone else manage.

I've met evil, and you're the furthest thing from it.

Magnus swallows. He remembers when they met, how Alexander's family had to run away from something, how he couldn't go too. He remembers the grief and guilt in Alexander's eyes ever since his father's death. He thinks of the weight Alexander always seems to carry, even here, in the realm they share that doesn't quite exist.

You're in danger, aren't you? Magnus asks.

Alexander's eyes are sad as he shrugs. Isn't everyone?

Not like that, Magnus wants to lean in even closer, wants to let his fingertips touch Alexander's lips, wants to rest his palm against his cheek. No one should be in danger like that.

But shoulds don't change the world they live in, either of them, so Magnus tells him about blood-magic and hexes, curses and counter-curses, how to spot a Vampire, contain a Werewolf, how to tell when a Fae is dodging the truth even harder than usual, how to hide from a demon.

When he wakes he thinks about Alexander's questions, about curses and wards and the intent behind most magic spells, and he goes digging through Ragnor's library, adds to his list of things to look for the next time he goes out into the world.

Most wards are specific, this counter to that magic, and Alexander isn't a Warlock, he can't tell Magnus enough about whatever it is that he's afraid of for Magnus to know what sort of spell might be cast, which sort of shield might work.

He needs something else, something different. Something that can react to that intent rather than the spell itself?

Something that can dodge it, or move it to the side, or... reflect it?

Seelies are fond of mirror magic. Maybe he'll visit them and see what he can learn.

He wanders, and studies, and life goes on, as it always does.

He has a family now, one he chose rather than the one he'd been born of, and the world keeps growing, and changing, and shifting. Except for the house and Ragnor, who stay the same, cool and green and quiet. Except for Alexander, who welcomes Magnus back to his dreams every time he returns.

It takes a few decades, but he manages to figure out a spell, a protective ward linked to a necklace, a flat piece of silver, slightly curved, polished 'til it gleams like a mirror. He looks at it when he's done, and sighs. It's not as if he can take it into his dreams with him.

He finds the old stump, petrified almost as hard as stone now, the one where he'd met Ragnor, the mirror of the one where he met Alexander. He puts the necklace there, in the hollow between the roots, and hopes intent matters enough that it will help, wherever Alexander really is now.

(It doesn't seem to. He takes Alexander back to the stump in their next shared dream, and there's nothing there. He sighs, but then Alexander smiles at him, and he cannot help but smile back as they wander their way to a different clearing, close enough their hands almost touch with each step as they talk.)

He leaves again, feeling more aimless than usual without his research project, and loses track of time for a while. But only for a little while. He'll always come back home again, after all.

Until he tries to go back home, and Ragnor meets him at the edge of the woods, and says No.

Something about a prophecy, and Camille, and some poor young mortal and it's important that Magnus not interfere, and Magnus leaves and gets very drunk and refuses to cry into his beer.

For about a decade.

Maybe two?

He misses Ragnor, and his home, and most of all he misses his dreams, and Alexander, and now that it's too late it's painfully apparent that somewhere along the way he fell in love with a person who probably doesn't exist, and he doesn't know what to do about any of it.

Even in the state he's in, he hears about Camille, about how she made herself Queen of a human kingdom, about a Mirror she stole from the Seelie Queen, about vassals and servants, Vampires, Ghouls, Subjugates, and poor besieged Humans, all under her power.

About the rumors of a lost heir, still alive somewhere in the woods, and Magnus knows that's the one that Ragnor's protecting, and he still doesn't understand why he's here and not there, why Ragnor wouldn't let him help.

Until he feels a tug on his magic, and goes outside the Inn he's currently wallowing in to see Camille herself, looking half-dead rather than undead, her arm hanging like it's broken, her hair streaked with grey, her lips dark with old blood, her clothes torn and ragged and dirt-stained. She's trembling, her skin paper-thin and sallow, her knuckles too big for her fingers as they twist and grip in front of her. The taste of blood-magic and curses linger in the air around her, twisted into something sharp and bright and painful, and the distinctive shape of a scrying mirror is strapped to her back.

Help me, she begs, eyes dark and vicious, and he nods, and opens a portal, and sends her to the Seelie Queen.

He'll remember that last scream of rage and terror in his dreams for the rest of his life, as the Seelies claim her with their vines, powerful enough to bind even Camille at her strongest, never mind what she's become now. But she had murdered innocents, and there had been fear in her eyes but not regret, and he knows sometimes you can't escape the consequences of your actions.

He goes back inside and doesn't even pretend to sleep.

He considers going back to the woods, what used to be his woods, but there's a shiver in his chest where his heart used to be, and he knows if Ragnor sends him away again he won't survive, so he doesn't.

If no one tells him no again, he can still hold onto the hope that he'll see Alexander again some day. He has time, after all.

He just hopes Alexander does too.

He waits, hoping to hear what the rumors say, to see if this time he hears a whisper of what Ragnor was trying to protect, of the prophecy or the heir or the huntsman.

There's nothing.

Instead Catarina walks into his room entirely unannounced early one foggy morning, takes one look at him as he sits up in bed, clutching his blankets to his chest, and starts swearing, sharp and vicious under her breath.

Magnus blinks at her in surprise. She lifts one finger, wait, and turns around and leaves again.

Magnus considers the possibility he's started hallucinating from spending too much time by himself.

He gets himself up and shaved and dressed and goes down to the common room for breakfast.

Might as well be presentable if the hallucinations decide to talk to him next time.

Ragnor shows up while he's still lingering over his tea. His shoulders are hunched and his hair is a mess, and his glamour is thick enough Magnus can't see his horns, but his skin looks slightly green-tinged anyways.

There's an ache in Magnus' chest at the suggestion that Catarina ripped Ragnor a new one on Magnus' behalf, but he tries not to linger on it too much as he gets up and goes back to his room, listening for Ragnor's familiar steps following him up the stairs.

Of course he doesn't know what to say, even once they're back in his room with the door shut and a privacy ward raised, so he lets his hand rest on the back of his favorite armchair by the hearth, tries not to make the desperate grip he needs to keep himself steady too obvious, and waits.

Ragnor's mouth twists, and his hands spread wide, and Magnus realizes he's never once in all his centuries see the man look so hopeless. "Why didn't you, why did you disappear for so long?"

There's a spark of something that might be anger, somewhere beneath all the heart-break and loss and fear. "You told me to leave," Magnus makes himself say.

"Not like—" Ragnor starts, and he lifts his gaze from the toes of his boots and meets Magnus' eyes and his voice breaks off in his throat. "Oh."

Magnus waits again, but it's different now, a trembling sort of anticipation as he watches the expression on Ragnor's face shift, frustration to understanding to guilt.

"I didn't mean it like that." He swallows so hard that Magnus can see the shift down his throat, so hard his glamour flickers, green flashing across his skin, the shadow his horns cast visible against the wall. "I'm sorry."

Magnus closes his eyes, and feels himself sway, relief so heavy he can't hold himself upright. He barely hears the heavy tread of Ragnor's step forward before he feels Ragnor's arms around him, gripping him tight. "I'm sorry, please come home."

Magnus clings, and ignores the burning in his eyes, and nods.

When he finally lets go of Ragnor's shoulders, Ragnor won't meet his eyes, shifts sideways just a little, guilt heavy in the clenching of his jaw, in the thin tone of his voice when he starts talking. "I have to tell you something else."

Magnus snorts out something that might be a laugh, ignoring how damp it sounds from the tears still caught in his throat. "Cat came looking because you need my help with something, don't you?"

Ragnor's whole body sags with relief, and he nods.

Magnus gestures at the chairs, and collapses with a sigh into his favorite. "Start from the beginning, mon ami."

Ragnor snorts, and sighs, and leans forward, his elbows resting heavily on his thighs.

"You remember Idris?"

Magnus tilts his head, wondering how that's the beginning, but nods. "That's the country Camille took over. Are they recovering all right?"

Ragnor lifts his head, eyes wide and startled. "How did you know she was gone?"

Magnus feels his mouth twist, even as he flicks his fingers to the side to attempt to send the bitterness away. "She thought I'd help her get away."

"You didn—"

"Of course not." Magnus swallows, makes himself meet Ragnor's eyes. "I returned her and her stolen property to the Seelie Queen."

Ragnor shudders, but it looks more like relief than horror. "Hopefully we don't need to find her then."

Magnus swallows, something like dread crawling up his spine. "Why would anyone need to find Camille?"

Ragnor huffs out a breath, and Magnus realizes he still looks hopeless, helpless, lost in a way Magnus has never seen before. "Because I don't know how to break the curse she cast."

Magnus thinks of that taste in the air around Camille, blood and desperation, the weight of the mirror on her back, the rumors of the Seelie Queen's increasingly desperate attempts to get it back. "She used a Seelie artifact to cast a blood-curse?"

Ragnor shrugs. "We think so, but it's all tangled up in an old prophecy, and Raphael can't—"

Magnus holds up a hand. "Wait, stop. We're in the middle again."

Ragnor snorts. "And whose fault is that?"

"You're the one who's supposed to be explaining yourself."

Ragnor glares over his glasses, and Magnus feels his face ease into a smile more honest than any he's attempted in years.

It's good to have his best friend back.

Ragnor's attempted frown softens, as if he feels the same way, and he leans back in his chair and clears his throat. "Camille managed to weasel her way into Idris as some sort of royal advisor, used the mirror to fool some King into thinking she was Fae instead of Vampire, and set herself up as the power in the shadows for a generation or three."

Magnus grunts. That's longer than she usually sticks—longer than she used to stick to one game. "What was she trying to accomplish?"

"There's an old prophecy attached to Idris, the original's been lost for centuries, but it was something about a King under unnatural influence, and a gift of magic the likes of which the world had never seen before, would never see again, and..."

"She thought she could be the unnatural influence and snag the gift for herself?"

Ragnor shrugs.

"And even if nothing fancy happened, she'd become the sort of person who'd enjoy playing with mortals for a few hundred years." Magnus closes his eyes, remembers the first time he saw Camille, remembers dancing the night away, the bright sound of her laugh, the touch of her fingers against his skin. He makes himself open them again before he thinks too much about that final scream before he'd closed the portal between him and the Seelie Realm. "I wonder sometimes if the woman I fell in love with ever really existed, or if it was all one of her games..."

"Immortality wears on everyone, in different ways."

"I suppose," Magnus frowns, and tries not to swear. "Is that the prophecy that convinced you to banish me?"

"I didn't—" Ragnor stopped as Magnus lifted his eyebrows. "I just meant for you to contact me from a safer distance. There's a line in it that's generally thought to be about a Prince of Hell being forsworn, and the curse coming full circle, and..."

Magnus' mouth opens, then closes again. He is the only Warlock he knows whose father tried to claim him as an heir to hell itself. "You didn't want my magic close enough to screw up an already weird prophecy."

Ragnor grunts. "I apparently should have phrased it better."

Magnus rolls his eyes. "Clearly."

"You could have asked!" Ragnor snarls back.

Magnus grunts this time. "But that's not really part of your story, either?"

Ragnor looks like he's considering some sort of hex before he sighs and shrugs and starts talking again. "Robert Lightwood, King of Idris, had an affair. When he got caught out, he managed, presumably thanks to Camille's influence for the idea and some judicious encantos for the execution, to convince the Kingdom of Idris it was his wife's fault, and she fled the country ahead of treason charges."

Magnus stills, and remembers Alexander's mother.

Ragnor keeps talking, and it takes more effort than Magnus will ever admit to follow what he's saying.

"The Queen was pregnant with their third child, took their daughter with her when she ran, but Robert had already formally recognized their eldest as his heir, and she knew if she tried to take him too they'd never be able to get away..."

Magnus can't breathe, barely notices when Ragnor's voice cracks with what sounds like genuine grief, as if he knows them personally, as if it's not just a story, as if this is the important part, not just the background to whatever happens next.

"When." Magnus' voice sounds like he's dying, more of a croak of pain than words, and he makes himself swallow, makes himself try again. "When did she run."

"Twenty years ago." Ragnor stops, but Magnus is too deep in his own head to notice, not really, certainly can't tell what Ragnor is thinking, what he's feeling, what his voice or his face might be doing. There's a lengthy pause, and Magnus tries to think, because it can't be Alexander, that first dream was hundreds of years ago, not twenty, but their time never matched, and he'd tried not to think about it too much before, tried not to wonder if his dreams were with a mortal and someday he'd see Alexander aging, or if it was all some prolonged figment of his imagination and someday the illusion would grow too shallow, he'd be forced to realize they weren't true, but their times never matched, and if a week was twenty years than why couldn't twenty years be...

"Now that I know Camille's gone, though, I can send for them, she gave me her mother's necklace before she left so I could track them, no matter where they w—"

"Name." Magnus snaps, not even sure what Ragnor had been saying anymore. "I need a name."

"Whose?" Ragnor sounds honestly bewildered now, which in other circumstances might be interesting, Magnus isn't sure he's ever managed to bewilder Ragnor before, but at the moment he just needs to know his damn name. "Robert and Maryse? Isabelle? I don't know what she named her youngest, they were gone before the birth."

"The heir." Magnus is standing, he doesn't remember standing up, but he's glaring down at Ragnor, fists clenched at his sides. "He's the one you were protecting when you sent me away, wasn't he, what's his name?"

"Alec?"

Oh hells, damnation and gods and demons and... "Short for Alexander?"

"Well, yes, but." Ragnor starts to stand, hands outreached as if to touch, clearly able to tell that something is happening even if he doesn't know what. He's moving too slowly though, and Magnus grabs the lapels of his coat, pulls 'til Ragnor's on his feet, 'til they're face to face.

"Take me to him, now."

"But I haven't even told you the—"

"Now."

Ragnor nods.

He waits a beat, then gently lifts his hands, wraps them around Magnus' wrists. "I need room if I'm to make the portal, Magnus."

Magnus lets go, steps back, exhales something that feels like his soul itself might be trying to flee. He shakes his arms out, clenches and releases his hands. "Please," he whispers.

Ragnor makes the portal, and reaches back, and Magnus grabs his hand much too hard.

He stumbles into a familiar attic, ignores Catarina's startled hello, because there's Alexander, tucked into the same bed Magnus always used when he stayed here, eyelashes resting heavy against his cheeks, chest lifting ever so slowly beneath a quilt Magnus doesn't recognize.

I suppose Ragnor finally got new blankets in the last twenty years, he thinks rather helplessly, even as he steps forward and falls to his knees beside the bed. His hand reaches out, hovering over Alec's cheek, then his chest, but he's afraid this is real, afraid it isn't, and he doesn't know what he's seeing or why, or what to do.

"Alexander." Magnus shakes his head, ignores the ache in his chest and his throat and his head. His hand is trembling, he can't quite seem to keep it steady, and it bumps against the collar of Alec's shirt, opens it enough he sees the glint of a silver chain.

His breath hitches, and he can feel the tears overflowing his eyes and falling down his cheeks. He makes his hand move, just enough to open the collar a little further, to see the familiar curve of silver glinting where it's settled in the hollow of Alexander's throat. "You're real and you found it."

He starts to reach for the necklace itself, to touch the magic, to touch Alexander, when a familiar voice interrupts him. "What the fuck, Magnus."

Magnus turns, and can't help the grin he can feel beneath his tears. "He's real, Cat!"

"Most people are?"

"He found it!" Magnus turns back, and Catarina slaps his shoulder hard enough he almost falls over onto the bed.

"Stop that!" She tugs on the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from the bed. "We haven't figured out how he's not dead, if you must know the truth, and I don't want you screwing up whatever..."

"It's the necklace." Magnus points. "I made it for him."

"You what?" Ragnor speaks up this time. "I never told you anything about him, and I certainly had no clue that Camille knew how to make a kairothanasia."

Magnus chokes on his next breath. "She did a what?"

Cat makes an almost identical choking sound. "You gave him something that stopped a curse without knowing what curse to stop?"

"I didn't even know it was Camille he was afraid of!"

"What." Ragnor's voice drops almost an octave, and he lifts both hands, palms out, in a very clear stop gesture. "Alec is stable, even if we're not entirely sure why, so I suggest we sit and try to start this conversation over again. From something resembling a beginning."

"Because that worked so well last time?" Magnus huffs out a breath as Ragnor and Catarina both glare at him. "It's not my fault, I didn't know he was real!"

"But you made him a real necklace that does impossible magic!" Catarina's voice rises higher than Magnus thinks he's ever heard it go before, and eyes and hands are both spread wider than looks comfortable. "What did you do?"

Ragnor grunts, and claps his hands, and the bench at the foot of the bed scrapes across the floor as it moves to settle beside the chair angled between the window for light and the chimney for warmth. "Sit."

They sit.

Ragnor summons the small table from his study, and Catarina summons some tea, and they both stare at Magnus.

"Every time I'm here," Magnus gestures broadly around them, both at the house and the woods outside, "I have these dreams where I'm wandering these woods, with..." Magnus trails off, and turns his head to look at the bed. "With him."

"He's not even thirty years old."

Magnus laughs, a hollow sort of helplessness as he shrugs. "Our times never did seem to match. I'd be gone for twenty years, and he'd say his last dream was less than a week before."

"That's impossible."

"The first one was the very first night I was here." Catarina's face turns into a pained sort of grimace; they all know what first nights are like, when a young Warlock realizes what they might be, and Magnus barely stops himself from shrugging again. "You remember that stump you found me sitting on, Ragnor?"

"Only because you'd go back to visit it." Ragnor frowns. "Now that you mention it, it's where I met Maryse and her children when she was fleeing Idris, too, and it's where Raphael brought Alec when Camille ordered him killed after his father died, before he could be coronated properly himself."

Catarina puts her tea down with a quiet clink of porcelain. "Poor Raphael, he looked so disgusted watching me bespell that pig's heart to smell like human blood for him to take back to Camille as proof."

Magnus shudders in sympathy. That spell was messy, and would have required some of Alexander's blood put into the pig's heart to convince the rest of it to change to match. "It must have worked for awhile, Robert—" Magnus stops, swallows, remembers Alexander trembling as he clung to Magnus in a clearing in the middle of the woods. Remembers the news, much more recently, of the death of the King of Idris, of the Regent taking over, of Camille becoming Queen. "His father died a few years ago, didn't he?"

"He and his second wife, the poor woman. Carriage 'accident', or so the stories went." Ragnor clicks his tongue, echoing the porcelain as he puts his cup down next to Catarina's. "She had no idea what she was getting into, falling for a Lightwood."

Neither did I, apparently. Magnus swallows, and tries to figure out what to say next. "That stump was where I met Alexander, in that first dream. It's where I put the necklace, after I made it. I'm not sure why I did it, couldn't have told you while it was happening, I knew I couldn't take it into a dream, but I just... I wanted to help."

"What, exactly, was this help then?" Catarina leans forward.

"It's just a basic ward twisted into a bit of silver." Magnus had repeated and twisted it nine times to make it as powerful as the silver could bear, but that wasn't difficult, it just required patience and brute force. Rather a lot of it, perhaps, but he'd had the time and power to spare. Would have spared anything, he realizes, for Alexander. "I based the shape of the spell on a Seelie mirror though, so it would reflect any magic that carried an intent to harm, rather than trying to set up counters for specific spells."

Just, Catarina mouths at him, and shakes her head.

Ragnor whistles softly. "It wouldn't work on raw magic or accidental damage like a personal ward, but it's perfect for someone being targeted who can't work magic directly."

"Thank you." Magnus twists in his chair to look at Alexander again. "Was it though?"

"He's still alive," Catarina answers, her voice almost unbearably soft. "That's a miracle, considering."

"Are you sure about that?" Magnus can't stop himself, he stands, starts to move closer to the bed, to Alexander. "How did she even manage to make a kairothanasia?"

"Enough blood and intent, focused through that mirror?" Magnus hears Catarina stand up behind him. "Camille has more than enough of both."

"Had," Magnus corrects, and he walks the rest of the way toward the bed. He vaguely hears Ragnor telling Catarina about Camille as he kneels again, but he isn't really paying attention. If his necklace had worked, it should have reflected the curse back on Camille. But she hadn't been cursed to have never existed, hadn't had her blood erased all the way back before she'd been born, like she'd tried to do to Alexander. Magnus remembers every time they'd met, every rumour he'd heard of what she'd done when they were apart. She hadn't even been killed by it, not quite, no matter how damaged she'd been when she'd tried to ask Magnus for help.

But if her curse had worked, if the necklace had failed, Alexander would have never existed, and here he is, alive and breathing and one of the few constants of Magnus' life.

So it's something in-between. The kairothanasia's the strongest curse Magnus knows, and if Camille had powered it with enough blood, enough intent, if that mirror was as dangerous as it seemed, it would have been too much even for the necklace's protection to reflect in its entirety. But some of it...

Some of it had rebounded back on Camille, some of it was keeping Alexander asleep, but that couldn't be all of it, not a curse like that, not one that killed someone's past as well as their future.

Magnus reaches a hand out again, holds it above the necklace, and stretches, oh so gently, magic twisting from his fingers to brush against the wards he'd set. He hisses in pain as they spark back at him, and pulls his hand away, cradles it against his chest.

Well.

Fuck.

The curse is still there, tangled up in the necklace, resting so close to Alexander's heart that Magnus has to bite his lip and focus on the sting to make himself think rather than reach down and try and yank the necklace off Alexander's body. The wards are clearly strong enough to block the intent, but the spell still wants to complete itself. He narrows his eyes, thinks about the feel of those sparks, warm and lively, and wonders. It's powerful, potentially deadly, but it doesn't feel like blood-magic anymore, tastes like regular magic rather than a curse, as if the wards managed to twist it inside out, just like Magnus had wanted, but it was too big.

By the time it had finished twisting the curse, the blood magic and wards were knotted too tightly together to push it back out again?

"Time," Magnus whispers. The kairothanasia erases someone from time, and all the results from the deflection have only happened now. He has to let the spell do something to the rest of Alexander's lifetime or it'll just sit there, twisted around backwards and eating Alexander's future instead of his past.

Alexander's past.

Alexander's impossible past, full of dreams with Magnus from before he was born.

Maybe he needs to let the spell do something that has already happened, maybe he has to let it make Alec alive before he was born, even if only in dreams.

For that to work, he has to let this inside-out curse tie his and Alexander's lives together.

He's... not at all sure what that will do. Two souls, one life, half immortal, half mortal?

"Oh." Ragnor's voice is right there, and Magnus lifts his head to see Ragnor and Catarina standing just beyond his reach, holding hands and eyes bright with magic; they'd clearly been following along with his diagnostic. "If the kairothanasia makes it so someone was never alive, the counter means they're extra alive, doesn't it?"

"I think that to dispel it properly the spell will have to be set on both of them. Your life will be his, and his death will be yours." Catarina's voice is soft as she smiles at Magnus, her eyes sad as every year of her life lingers in them. "Your wards are powerful, but not enough to dispel that curse, not entirely."

"A gift of magic that has never been seen before, nor will again." Ragnor whispers. "Your wards combined with Camille's curse, Vampire blood and Warlock magic, both shaped by Seelie mirrors. It's the prophecy, Magnus."

"If it does what we think... He'll lose his family again." Magnus wants this, wants to save Alexander, wants to see a future that's not just in their dreams, but he doesn't know if Alexander does, and he can't ask.

Immortality wears on everyone, in different ways.

They may not become completely immortal, but they won't quite be mortal anymore, either.

"I've never seen him take that necklace off," Catarina counters. "I think you're his family, too."

Magnus can't speak, can't think, doesn't move.

"He'd want to live." Ragnor's voice is rough, and his free hand reaches out to grip Magnus' shoulder. "Even with your wards, the hit from that curse would have hurt, would have told him to give up, to let go, and he's still here, still breathing. At some level he had to have fought for that."

Magnus closes his eyes, swallows. Thinks of Alexander's smile, the steady weight of his gaze. Alexander never gives up, Magnus can't either. He reaches, twists his hands in the air before him, pulling his magic from the necklace, back into himself, making the inside-out curse come with.

He screams as the spell explodes, sunlight in his veins, burning beneath his skin, and he can feel the weight of it, the twenty-eight years of Alec's life over and throughout the centuries of his own, stretched thin and fragile but undeniably there, tangled together too tightly to ever be pulled apart again.

He blinks himself back to awareness. The room's dimmer than it was, his bones ache and his magic's almost entirely depleted; he feels raw and scraped out, and it's only when he tries to shift to ease the soreness in his muscles that he realizes he's lying down, that same new quilt he'd noticed earlier draped over him.

He turns his head, and forgets every bit of pain because there's Alexander, close enough to touch at last, lying on his side, his arm tucked under his head, his eyes just barely open, a glint of light catching beneath the dark shadow of his lashes.

"Magnus." Alexander's mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile, his voice low and mumbling, barely more force behind the words than an exhale of a breath. "Hoping I'd dream of you."

Magnus sighs, feels the tremble of his breath, hope bright and shivering in his chest, and turns himself slowly onto his side to mirror Alexander.

There's a hint of a frown between Alexander's brows as he watches, but he holds it in until Magnus settles to a stop.

"You look tired."

Magnus almost laughs, but he's afraid it'll hurt. "That's because we're both awake, darling."

Alexander's eyes widen, and his breath stutters, as if he's only now managed to pay enough attention to realize where they are. "You're rea—" His voice cracks as he tries to lift himself onto his elbow, and he slides back down onto the bed with a groan, making it clear he's at least as sore as Magnus is. "You're here. Now."

"Same place, same time." Magnus finally lets himself reach out, though his fingertips rest against the silver charm that he only notices now is solid black with tarnish, thick and set enough it doesn't even smudge at his touch, rather than touching Alexander himself. "You found it."

"When I was eight." Alexander's shoulders shift, and there's worry in his eyes. "The day I first dreamt of you."

Magnus' eyes slide close, open again as he shakes his head, fabric wrinkling beneath his temple with the movement.

"I think I made it almost forty years ago now, when I'd already known you for centuries." Magnus hums, thinks about the feel of the spell as it had tied them together. He can still feel it, a tug between his ribs that he knows will never go away again, that he knows is Alexander. "Our times match now."

Alexander's frown deepens, but he clearly isn't surprised, had already figured out how far off their histories were. "How?"

"Camille." Magnus swallows, tries again. "She tried to curse you so that, rather than just dying, you'd never existed at all."

"Magnus," Alexander breathes out, eyes wide with horror. "I'm so sorry."

Magnus has to turn his head into his pillow, not sure if he's blocking a laugh or tears. Alexander is clearly more concerned about what that would have meant to Magnus than what it meant about his own life. "It's too powerful a curse to be easily dispelled or reflected..."

"Magnus," Alexander repeats, but this time his voice is steady. He's waiting for Magnus to look at him, to finish saying it. "Please."

Magnus makes himself return that steady gaze. "The spell still had to affect time, not just the present, so it..." He chokes, gestures between them.

Magnus wonders when Alexander first suspected the nature of their impossible connection, wonders what it must have been like for Alexander to hear Magnus mention Camille, the Lightwood's personal devil, back when she'd just been a person, a lover, someone who danced through life, who knew how to laugh, who wasn't always cruel.

I'm sorry, he thinks, but he knows it wasn't his fault, that now isn't the time to try and unpick the tangled weave of their timelines.

"That's how the dreams." Alexander blinks, hums softly. "Never thought I'd be glad for something Camille started."

Magnus huffs out a startled laugh, then presses his hand to his chest with a groan. It hurts as much as he'd been afraid it would. "Our lives are tangled together for the future, too."

"But you're immortal."

"I was."

Alexander makes a soft pained noise, as if he'd been wounded.

"Just like you were mortal."

Alexander's eyes close, slowly this time, and stay that way as he exhales, long and shaky. Magnus waits, for what he's not entirely sure, fear or anger or regret. "Thank the gods," Alexander whispers.

"What?" Magnus' voice cracks up, louder than he'd intended.

Alexander smiles, and his eyes are damp when he opens them, but they're alight, joy and relief and something that Magnus suspects might be love. Magnus forgets how to think. "I thought you meant you were going to die because of me, not that I'd get to live with you."

"Oh." That's all Magnus can manage. They stare at each other, until Magnus realizes it's still getting darker, and it's difficult to see anything beyond the shape of Alexander's cheekbone, the faint glint of his eyes in what little light is left. He realizes he is sure of Alexander, of how he feels, of what he wants. Of everything Alexander never said, but showed him nonetheless, night after night of conversations and silences, shoulders pressed together as they perched on that same damnable, wonderful stump. "I love you, too."

Alexander smiles, wider and brighter than Magnus has ever seen before, and he has no idea what to do now that this is real. He reaches, and Alexander's lips are warm against the very tips of his fingers, and he feels that amazing smile soften beneath his touch.

"You're real," Magnus whispers, "and you're here, with me."

"You're real," Alexander agrees, "and you saved me."

"You first," Magnus says, and he's smiling like a loon, he's sure, as Alexander's hand wraps around his, fingers long and the skin just rough enough to catch, as he tugs Magnus' hand down out of the way and leans in even closer. Magnus closes his eyes, and Alexander's lips meet his at last, as gentle as a spring wind, soft and warm and sweet.

Magnus sighs as their mouths part, as every last bit of worry and stress seems to leave him, and no matter how much he wants to savor every moment of this, he's not sure he can stay awake for much longer.

"Sweet dreams," Alexander breathes against Magnus' mouth, and Magnus laughs again, blinks his eyes half open long enough to see Alexander, to answer with what they both know is true.

"How can they not be, with you in them?"

Alexander scoffs out a breath, amused and fond. "Our times match now, there may not be any more dreams."

"You've always been my favorite dream, Alexander."

Alexander kisses Magnus' forehead, the warm press of his lips lingering as he exhales. Magnus lets his eyes close, and his body settle.

I love you, he hears, and it doesn't matter if Alexander says it out loud, if he's imagining it, or dreaming it. He knows it's true.

#shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #ragnor fell #camille belcourt #my sh fic #jilly writes #snow white #fairy tales

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dethshit · 4 years

Text

Rocking Around The Christmas Tree

Dec 13th: Your Favorite Holiday Tradition Dethklok Style

Toki practically vibrated in place, shifting from foot to foot as he waited impatiently for everyone to come into the living room of Mordhaus. It had taken him hours, hell, days of begging, pleading, whining and complaining to anyone within earshot but he finally got his wish.

He was going to decorate the massive Christmas tree he had pestered Offdensen into buying with his family.

The massive evergreen tree smelled of artificial pine and stood tall, so very regal despite the macabre décor. It was custom made and probably cost more money than most people could dream of touching. It was bolted down to the floor by an iron base to keep it from wobbling.

The black tree skirt had been Toki’s personal choice, decorated with white skulls with splatters of red and green glittery pools that looked shockingly close to blood. It wasn’t the only thing he had a hand in. He had helped prepare the massive star to adorn the top of the tree. It was made from stainless steel painted black with fourteen sharp points to symbolize everyone important in his life. There was one for each member of the band (he had reluctantly included himself to make it an even number), one for Murderface’s partner Noni, two for Charles and his partner, three for Abigail and her partners, one for Knubbler, one for Mashed Potato Johnson and even one for Magnus. The center had a red gem that Toki was told was some super expensive ruby from a far off land he never heard of but he loved the shine. He even convinced the creators to put a set of lights around the ruby that would twinkle cheerily.

He hugged the star tightly, ignoring the bitter cold of the metal and the jab of the ruby against his face and chest.

“Tokis? What ams yous doings?” He turned to Skwisgaar with a massive smile before running over and grabbing the blonde’s hand.

“Skwisgaar, yous ams just in times! Theys brought de stars!” He yanked him to the black star, Skwisgaar falling over his feet from the amount of strength Toki used. “Sees? Offdensens lets me makes the stars with the helps of the blacksmiths and the makers and it has a points for everyones!”

Skwisgaar wrenched his hand away, rubbing his sore wrist as he looked up at the star. “Oh, yeahs?” He asked dryly, bored with no one else around but the hyperactive Norwegian.

Toki nodded excitedly. “The tops ams Offdensen and to his rights ams Akitas. To his lefts ams Noni. Moidaface ams next to Noni and Dana ams next to Akitas. Abby ams next to Danas and Carmens follows hers. Yous ams next to Moidaface and I ams next to yous! Pickle ams next to me and Nathan is next to Pickle. Knubbler is next to Nathan and Magnus is next to Carmens and the last one ams Mashed Potato Johnson!” He pointed out each individual arm of the 14 pointed star while Skwisgaar rolled his eyes.

“...Oka- wait. Whys ams I next to Moidaface and yous?” Skwisgaar asked, eyes narrowing.

Toki shuffled. “...Yous can takes a different points if yous want. You can be nexts to Mashed Potato Johnson?” He offered, hoping not to start a fight.

“And be nexts to dats psycho Magnus?! Absolutely nots!” Skwisgaar huffed, upturning his nose at the very idea.

Toki’s smile fell. “...then wheres dos yous want to be?”

Skwisgaar glared at the shorter man. “Amnest it obvious? I shoulds be at de tops!”

Toki stomped his foot, not caring how much he was acting like a child. “Nos! It ams for Offdensen! Yous cans have my spots instead!”

“Of course yous wants my spots! Yous always wants my spots!”

“That amnest even whats we weres talkings about!”

Their argument escalated until they were screaming in each other’s face, not noticing when the others came into the room.

“Boys, really?” Offdensen asked, lifting his glasses to rub his face tiredly. Toki quickly shut his mouth, worried that Offdensen would change his mind and have the Klokateers decorate the tree instead. He had gone through so much trouble to pick out all the ornaments and he had a whole plan set up, the likes that would make Offdensen and Abigail proud.

Skwisgaar scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dis ams a stupid ideas anyways.” Toki deflated slightly as Skwisgaar tried to leave the room. He was held back by a strong hand.

He glared indignantly at Nathan. “We said we were gonna do this with Toki so we’re gonna do it.” Nathan mumbled, forcing the blonde back into the room.

Skwisgaar bristled. “Yous can’ts makes me!” Nathan only frowned at him before turning over to where Offdensen and his boyfriend were busy unpacking some of Toki’s custom ornaments. “HEY AKIT-”

Skwisgaar hurriedly smothered Nathan’s yell, glaring at the lead singer. “Yous bastard!” He hissed.

“Something wrong, boys?” Akita asked innocently but his eyes said something different. There was a definitive threat in those ice blue eyes that if anyone did anything to ruin the youngest bandmate’s plans, there would be absolute hell to pay.

“Nothings!” Skwisgaar squeaked, his voice scaling up an octave. Akita narrowed his eyes and he read that there better not be.

Toki grabbed a green bulb that had been strung with alcohol bottles instead of lights. “Pickle, this ams for yous.” The ginger grabbed the glass and grinned. “Dat’s pretty cool, Toki.” Toki’s face threatened to split with his wide smile before returning to his box.

He had a black skull with a white Christmas sweater pattern running across it for Nathan. A knife with a bough of holly hanging off of it for Murderface. A palm tree wrapped in string lights for Noni. A makeup kit that lit up for Dana and a dress mannequin that had on a Santa suit for Carmen. Abby had a pair of old school headphones wrapped in ribbon. Offdensen had a computer that had HAPPY HOLIDAYS written across the screen that alternated between green and red. Akita had a golden microphone that sang Christmas carols when a button was pressed on the bottom. He had chosen a festive clown that reminded him a lot of his straw companion from his days in Norway.

And then there was Skwisgaar.

He reached into the box, hesitating as he ran a thumb over the cold glass. He startled when he felt a hand gently land on his back. He whirled around and blushed, feeling foolish.

It was only Akita whose eyes were full of concern. “What’s wrong, Toki? I thought you wanted to do this.”

He nodded eagerly. “Ands I stils do. I just...” He lifted the box to let Akita see the ornament he had chosen for Skwisgaar.

It was an exact glass replica of his Gibson Explorer down to the tiniest scratch on the neck. Akita glanced up at him, cocking a blonde eyebrow. He turned redder. “I guess....” He glanced down at his boots. “What ifs he hates it? He hated his points on the stars.”

Akita held back his soft chuckle to avoid offending Toki. He cupped his cheek, rubbing his cheekbone with his thumb. “Toki...you know he’s going to love it. The damn Swede is a drama queen, that’s all.”

“SHUTS YOUS FACE YOUS DAMN FINNISH SHIT!”

Akita let go of Toki’s face, turning around to confront Skwisgaar. “Oh, shut your own ass, you wish Sweden was as great as Finland!”

“FINLAND AMS A SHITHOLE COUNTRYS!”

“IT”S THE FUCKING BEST YOU ILLITERATE JACKOFF!”

Toki smiled faintly at the familiar bickering. While the words were harsh and an outsider might suspect that the two blondes hated each other, there was genuine amusement in Akita’s voice and Skwisgaar’s insults were lacking the usual bite they had when the two opposing Europeans first met.

Toki walked up to Skwisgaar while Offdensen pulled Akita away to help him untangle the lights much to Akita’s chagrin. “You just had to volunteer for the most difficult part of the job?” Akita asked dryly as he sat down next to an outlet. Offdensen rolled his eyes fondly at the complaint. “Four hands work faster than two.”

“And six are even better. Hey, Noni! Come help, please!”

Toki patted Skwisgaar’s shoulder. “U-Uh, Skwisgaar?” The blonde glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Whats do yous wants?” Toki winced and pulled the ornament from behind his back. “....I gots yous an ornaments too.”

Skwisgaar was silent and Toki braced himself for the backlash with his eyes screwed shut. All he could hope was that Skwisgaar didn’t throw the precious glass and break it in his tantrum.

He opened his eyes when he felt the weight lifted off his finger. Skwisgaar was gently cradling the mini guitar as if it was his real one. “...Yous gots dis...for me?” Toki nodded, keeping his gaze on the floor. “I wanteds to get ones for everyones. Yous ams part of everyones, Skwisgaar.” He explained quietly to his boots.

He missed the way Skwisgaar had covered his mouth with his free hand, eyes starting to turn wet from unshed tears. The blonde quickly blinked away the tears before they fell and he shook away any visible emotion on his face. “It ams okays.” He finally deemed, underplaying how much it meant to him. Most of his Christmases as a kid were spent either in the cold or bouncing from house to house with anyone who would put up with him. The Christmases in the band were usually blurred by alcohol but even then. There was nothing festive about the day until Toki began his quest to make Mordhaus as festive as possible.

Toki gave a small smile and grabbed his own ornament. It was a mini snow globe where a snowman with his fu manchu was in the middle of a group hug. There was a tall snooty snowman, a shorter one with Pickles’ fiery beard, another with a fierce scowl and the last had Murderface’s mustache. He wanted to add more snowpeople: one with a turquoise pendant around her neck, one with a set of glasses and semi circle green buttons for eyes, one with green robot eyes, an elderly looking snowman with a cane and another with a white and brown goatee. That was without even adding the newest members of his family!

But the man making the ornament begged him to keep the number small, his hand cramping with the amount of detail he was trying to cram on the small snowmen in the snow globe.

There would be other years and he could add to the ornaments.

He climbed up the ladder behind Skwisgaar and waited patiently for the taller man to place his ornament near the top of the tree. He placed his own towards the front so that everyone could see his snow globe and grinned happily at the sight below him.

Noni and Murderface were adjusting some of the lower branches, Noni using their height to place some of the colored balls onto the tree. Murderface made a comment and the tall tanned figure laughed. Abby was sitting between Dana and Carmen as the trio worked on the beaded garland that would wind its way around the tree. It had gotten tangled in its voyage to Mordhaus and Carmen and Abby were talking while Dana nodded or shook her head along with the conversation. Nathan and Pickles were starting to work the lights Akita and Charles had untangled around the tree. Akita and Charles were watching them, Akita waving at Toki when they locked eyes.

Toki waved back and winced as Skwisgaar pushed on his head. “Comes on ands moves it! I do nots plans to spends all days up heres!”

-------------------------------

I ended up combining two traditions into a small snippet of a fic. I love decorating the tree with my family and I usually get some ornaments for my friends and I take a long time to pick them out.

And yes I added my own OCs and their respective ships what you gonna do about it

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