#claves says nothing when he sees

[katzenkarussell]

Turo and Sada continue to wear their wedding rings despite their split in hopes to mend what they had one day. They try rationalize it to themselves that they continued wearing it out of habit.

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

Orange Peel Theory’s Got Nothing on Magnus Bane

“This whole thing sounds stupid,” Alec rolls his eyes at his siblings.

“That’s the point. It’s stupid but cute,” Izzy explains.

He thinks for a moment. “And Jace passed?”

“Jace passed,” Izzy nods.

“And so did you.”

“Yes,” Izzy smiles.

He’s not surprised, both his siblings are gone for their partners.

Alec doesn’t think a stupid orange peel theory is the true test of love but alas, mundane culture rarely ever makes sense to him.

“Alright. I’ll try it,” he sighs at their childish excitement, “but if Magnus doesn’t peel it and I have to get a divorce; I’m blaming you two forever.”

Izzy and Jace chuckle at him. “Okay, bro.”

Alec forgets about the stupid thing for the next few days. They’re busy and Magnus and he barely get any time together.

Then Izzy texts him one day, “Did you try it?”

Children.

Magnus comes out of the kitchen, with coffee for the two of them in his hands. Alec lets out a hand and takes one cup.

His husband sits on one end of the couch, his legs spread on the table in front of them. Alec sidles up next to him, closing any distance.

“Hi,” Magnus exhales against his mouth.

Alec smiles before kissing him. “Hi, baby.”

They spend the day lounging on the couch, trading slow kisses and touches. It’s been a while since they have got the time.

The kids are with Izzy and Simon today.

Then Alec remembers the stupid thing and decides to try it. He excuses himself and goes to the kitchen.

Do they even have oranges? He wonders.

He glances around the kitchen and finds a bowl of fruits with a few oranges in them.

Thank fuck.

He picks one up and walks back to the living room.

Magnus has a book in his hand now and his legs are stretched out on the sofa. He picks up the man's legs and makes space for himself, putting them above his.

He plays with the orange for a few minutes before he speaks, “Baby?”

“Yes, love?” Magnus looks up.

“I don’t feel like peeling this. Could you peel this up for me?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Magnus glances at the object in his hand and gives him an easy smile. “Sure.”

He hurrays himself internally and is about to pass the orange to Magnus before his husband snaps his fingers and voila—he has a plate in his hands with oranges peeled out and separated, displayed in quite a decorative manner on the dish.

Well, shit.

Alec huffs out a breath, picks up a slice and eats it, grumpily.

Magnus puts the book aside and shifts on the couch until he’s lying with his head on Alec’s stomach. He brings his hand to Magnus’s hair and runs them through it gently.

Another half an hour passes before Magnus comments. “You didn’t eat the oranges.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, he has magic, so I can’t blame him,” he points out to his siblings who laugh at the incident.

“Why don’t you try again?”

Alec rolls his eyes, “I have better things to do, you know? Like running the Clave?”

“Come on, just one more time,” Jace insists.

“Fine,” he relents because even he wants to see how it goes.

It’s a few days later when the chance arises. The boys ran them ragged this morning, shouting and complaining, not liking anything Alec made for breakfast.

It was one of those mornings when nothing either of them did was getting the boys to settle down. So, they’d accepted defeat and magicked them some ice cream.

Ice cream cures everything in their house.

They’re exhausted by the time they get to have their breakfast. At this point, Alec doesn’t feel like eating much, also he’s running late.

“Darling, what would you like for breakfast?” Magnus murmurs against his neck, his body a strong line against Alec’s.

He hums before picking up an orange, “I don’t know. Just peel this for me,” and hands it over to Magnus and continues, “I need to leave. I’m not very hungry, right now.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says in an affronted tone, “You know, how I feel about skipping breakfast. Not in this house.”

His husband drags him over to the coffee table and snaps his fingers. There’s a small set-up there now. A plate of pancakes with a side of berries. Bacon and sunny side up.

“Eat,” Magnus chides before he can say anything.

He smiles, shaking his head in affection before he starts eating. Then, Magnus speaks, “Oh, wait. I forgot,” before a magically peeled orange appears in front of it.

Alec groans.

“What?” Magnus asks innocently.

“Nothing. Thank you.”

Alec tries a few variations of the thing but the result is all the same.

He can’t test the stupid theory, not that he needs to, but because it’s fun and with each failure, his desire to get it done right increases tenfold.

His siblings can’t win this.

He’s competitive, fuck him.

There was a demon attack today and Magnus and Alec, as psychotic as it sounds, decide to make a date out of it.

They help each other get prepared.

Well, mostly it was Magnus helping Alec ensure that all his eight hundred blades were in place.

“Do you think demons feel anything?” He asks his husband as they portal to the location.

The warlock thinks for a moment, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”

A mischievous grin appears on his face, “Well, if they did; they wouldn’t be able to concentrate while you looked like that.”

Magnus chuckles softly. “Flirt.”

They both reach home two hours later, taking their time between bantering and flirting while the three shadowhunters along with them groan at their blatant flirtation.

Not entirely exhausted, but the right amount of tired, both of them crash on the couch as they enter the loft. They’re met with two very excited boys, who immediately sober up a little seeing their tired states.

“You okay, Daddy?” “Bapak, are you tired?”

They hug the boys close and kiss their temples, letting them know they are well.

“Hungry?” Magnus asks.

“Starving.”

Then like an idiot, he asks the boys to bring an orange.

He flutters his eyes and hands it to Magnus.

“Peel,” it’s an order this time because Raziel, Magnus will know shit is up now.

“You just said you are starved. What is an orange gonna do?” Magnus raises an eyebrow.

“Just do it,” he whines.

“And they think I’m weird,” Magnus grumbles.

“Don’t use magic. You’re exhausted,” he warns.

Before he can pass off the orange to Magnus, Max comes running to him, snatching the orange. He snaps his fingers and there’s a plate in Alec’s hand again.

“Here, Daddy. I peeled it,” Max yells excitedly.

Internally, he groans like the biggest tragedy just occurred but outside, he can’t help but chuckle in response as he kisses Max on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.”

Fucking warlocks in his house.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The six of them are at the Tang Hotpot on a Saturday evening.

They switched Sunday brunch with Saturday hotpot for the day. Clary mentioned something about hotpot and Jace mentioned never having one and Magnus decided then and there, that it’s time to introduce the white assholes he hangs out with these days to culture.

“So, we put whatever we want to eat it inside this thing and it’ll cook?” Jace acts surprised.

Magnus rolls his eyes, knowing Jace likes to act like he doesn’t know anything about the mundane culture.

It’s always a 50-50 chance between Jace really not knowing something and him just fucking with everyone else.

“That is how cooking works,” Alec says sarcastically. “You cook what you want to eat and voila—“

“Not all of us have partners who can take us to any part of the world and have us taste world cuisine,” Jace grins.

“Clary can literally create portals,” Izzy points out.

There’s a large pot in the middle of the table, divided into two sections. One is the traditional broth while another is a spicier version of the broth with added garlic and spices.

Magnus prefers the spicier one.

Bowls of broth are placed next to the pot to be added as required. Next to them, platters of raw ingredients are present. There’s thinly sliced meat including beef, pork, lamb and chicken. Next to it is a plate filled with seafood—shrimp, and fish balls. Accompanied with it are noodles and dumplings of a variety.

And then there’s all the leafy vegetables.

The best part about a hotpot is that it is the only preparation with which the boys usually are okay eating vegetables. Most of it has to do with the fascination the cooking element of it brings but regardless, if his kids are eating vegetables, for whatever reason, Alec counts it as a win.

Magnus sits next to him, a hand dragging a random pattern on his thigh as Alec murmurs something against his ear, pulling a small grin out of the man.

“We are out in public. Stop with the obscenity,” Izzy grins.

Alec sticks out his tongue at her.

Years ago, Alec never thought it would be like this one day. He could never comprehend something like this.

An average Saturday dinner with his family and friends, as he sits next to the love of his life, his husband, Alec’s husband—like that very thought wouldn’t have made Alec throw his fists into a punching bag until they bled.

They’re waiting for the last of the preparations to arrive so they still have a few minutes. Alec looks up at Magnus and plants an unhurried kiss on his lips. When he pulls back, Magnus has the sweetest look on his face.

The food arrives so they all straighten up to get started.

Magnus picks up a few pieces of pork and dumps it in the broth.

“This one has improved,” Magnus teases as Alec pours some spicy broth into his bowl. “His white ass couldn’t deal with the spicier broth the first time we tried it.”

“Jokes on you. You married me,” Alec grins back.

“Oh wow,” Jace explains. “This is too good,” he adds before he chokes realising that he dipped his chicken too much into the chilli paste.

“Weak,” Clary chuckles.

“You try it,” Jace challenges her. Clary dips her shrimp into the chilli paste and pops it inside her mouth, all the while keeping eye contact with Jace.

She doesn’t flinch or cough at all.

“I am so attracted to you right now,” Jace comments.

Simon murmurs something against Izzy’s ear and she laughs, heartily before smacking his shoulder lightly.

This is good, he thinks.

Magnus nudges him and without even looking, Alec turns and opens his mouth as Magnus feeds him a bite of fish ball.

“Too sweet?”

He thinks for a moment before replying. “You could add some sesame oil.”

Magnus hums at that.

There are a few pieces of mushrooms in his broth which he doesn’t like at all. He picks them up and puts them on Magnus’s plate who rolls his eyes at him.

“Why do you take mushrooms if you never eat them?”

“I’m picking them out for you. The best mushrooms in the world for you,” he says in mock seriousness.

Magnus shakes his head in fond amusement before he picks up the plate of seafood and a few shrimps. He puts down his chopsticks and starts peeling the shrimp one by one.

When he is done, he transfers the plate to Alec who smiles at him. “Thanks, baby.”

It’s a fun night as they all relax after an exhausting few weeks.

“Alec, do you not know how to peel a shrimp or what?” Izzy comments.

Alec raises his head and frowns. “What?”

“Do you not know how to peel a shrimp?”

“I do.”

“Then why is Magnus doing it for you?”

Alec tilts his head to find Magnus peeling a few more shrimps and placing them on his plate.

“Umm, I like doing it for him,” Magnus adds nonchalantly.

Alec thinks for a moment. As long as he can recall, Magnus has been peeling shrimp for him.

He thinks about Izzy’s question and scoffs—of course, he knows how to peel a shrimp.

Then why doesn’t he do it himself?

“Magnus?”

“Yeah?” The warlock replies as he takes another bite of a dumpling.

“When did you start peeling the shrimps?”

Magnus raises his head at him in a quizzical manner. “Like twenty minutes ago?”

Alec huffs. “No, I meant like at all. When did you start?”

His husband frowns. “I don’t know. Maybe the first time we went out for a hotpot. You seemed confused by everything so I helped.”

The first time was almost five years ago.

“Okay,” he mumbles before he adds. He doesn’t know why but he can’t help but ask. “But why are you doing it still?”

Magnus gives him a small smile. “Because you like shrimps.”

He says it like it’s the simplest of things. And maybe it is.

He huffs out a laugh. “And you couldn’t peel those dammed oranges?”

The small smile turns into a huge grin as Magnus replies, “Well darling, you didn’t really like those oranges, now, did you?”

Alec breaks into laughter. “You knew?”

“After the first two times, yes. I had my doubts,” Magnus laughs.

“So all this while you knew?” Clary laughs. “You were just fucking with Alec.”

Magnus glances around the five of them. “I believe that I was playing all five of you and not just dear Alexander.”

“You are so annoying,” Alec comments, even though he’s laughing.

“I’m annoying?” Magnus teases. “You are the one who was testing my love through an orange.”

“And you failed,” Alec announces, feigning hurt. “My poor heart.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I stop peeling the shrimps too?” Magnus asks in amusement, and it’s entirely too enticing with a shrimp between his chopsticks.

Alec steals the chopsticks from Magnus’s hands and pops the piece inside his mouth. “Nope.”

They’re both home two hours later. Alec falls into the bed with Magnus on top of him, “Baby?”

“Yes, love?” Magnus runs his hands gently through his hair.

“You know what I realised?”

“What?”

Alec kisses Magnus’s nose before he speaks. “Some stupid peel theory has got nothing on you.”

——————————————————————————

For Anh @carelessflower 🌻🌈

[libraryofloveletters]

Moo-ry Christmas

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so much snow, erling is an overgrown kid, farmer erling, baby cows in hats!!, erling thinks you're crazy and you think he's crazy too, #hater for a moment lmao

Word Count: 482

Author's Note: is it even me if I don't write erling on the farm?? okay hush, look at the cute cow and don't complain.

--

Erling insists that Santa has to get cookies and milk for his journey to Norway. Now where you got that milk? Erling the Farmer was on the job. 

Norway was home for your boyfriend, the cold and the snow welcomed you.

As you did more times you were in Norway, you were on the farm. Erling's family would be joining you tomorrow but the two of you wanted some alone time so you were up there, playing house.

Your boyfriend insisted you baked cookies for Santa - Santa being him. He'd sneak out of bed at 4am for a cookie, thinking you didn't notice the 6'4 Norwegian missing from bed.

"We need milk," you shout to him from the kitchen, shutting the fridge door. You weren't expecting him to be right there when you shut the door, your hand to your chest. "God! You scared me!" You smack him, the man laughed.

"No milk?" He asked, checking the fridge as if you hadn't just said and did the same thing.

You roll your eyes, "yes Erling, no milk."

He nods to himself, "I got it."

"You're gonna go to the store? It's snowing pretty bad out."

"Babe," he looked at you, an obvious look on his face as he waved his hands around. "We're on the farm. I'm just gonna go get some milk."

"Oh," you say, Erling walks to the front door and you switch off the oven as you take the cookies out. "Wait for me!" You run after your boyfriend.

You and Erling were in the barn, it took him a second glance to confirm that he was seeing right. "Why are the calves.. wearing hats?" He looks at you.

"Uh.." your lips pressed together. "So, uh, I figured they'd get cold so I knitted them hats!"

Erling laughs, smiling at your sweetness. "When did you even make these?"

"Well, I get bored when you're playing. A girl can only watch a football match so many times."

"Did you knit me something?" He asks, walking over to the pen where the calves' mother was. "No," you tell him, fixing the hat on the little brown cow.

"Are you serious?" He shouts, you run over to see what was wrong. Erling points to the cow, "you knitted her a scarf and a hat? And nothing for me?"

Your lips pressed together, giggling. "I couldn't leave their mama out, they would be rube. Sorry baby, next time I'll knit one for you and your big head too."

Erling twists his face, sitting on his stool as he sets his bucket up. You leave him with the cow, going back to the pen with the claves, feeding them as you waited on your boyfriend.

The two of you head back to the house, Erling locked up the barn. He was giving you the silent treatment.

"What?" you asked him, holding onto his arm.

"I can't believe you knitted them hats." He huffs, making you smile. "Baby, you're just hating that because I didn't knit you a hat for your big head."

[nephilimcursed]

Bella's Route: Haunted Dark Bridal (G-Edition) - Prologue Part One

The game loads strangely, with slight distortion to your screen. You are no longer... playing as Yui. How strange, instead there is a dark haired girl with peircing, warm gold eyes in the corner of the screen. The background is a dark forest at night, black goo seeps over the leaves.

Bella: "Huh, well that was rougher than most of my fights..."

Bella: (It's been a while since a demon has given me that good of a fight. Maybe it's because I haven't eaten in a while...)

Your character gives her angel blade a spin before putting it back inside the sheath.

Bella: (I should consider stopping by a gas station or something. The Clave only give me a limited amount of money, so I'll only be able to afford Ramen again... but it's better than nothing. Plus it's been 5 days since my last meal.)

Bella: (I'm so thirsty... I don't have enough pecunia to buy a drink though. I suppose water from a river can do.)

Bella: (Ahh- My shoulder was wounded. It's deep, if it had gone through even an inch more, it would have been fully through my flesh and bone. Ouch... It's stinging by the moment.)

Bella: (If only I still had my stele, all I'd have to do is draw a rune on myself to heal. I should have never lost it to those Moloch demons back in New York.)

Bella: (Since I can't go to a Shadowhunter Institue unless ordered, I suppose I'll have to wait to get another. Which means no more runes for a while. I have to heal the human way.)

Bella: (I saw the gas station up the road, I can walk there, wrap up my shoulder, and get food. Then... back to being ordnance.)

Your character trudges up the road to a gas station, and the background changes to that of a interior of a gas station.

Bella: (Finally, that was a longer walk than I thought.)

Bella: "Mphm, ramen..."

Bella: (I'm kinda sick of this, this has been all I've had for a few months now. But at least it keeps my body running in a way. I should probably try to find a place to get some sleep sometime too.)

Bella: (Now that I have this though, I should get bandages and disinfectant. Without my stele, I could get infected.)

Your character walks to the tiny section of mini supplies for the medical supplies.

Bella: (Good, this will cost me all my money for the week. But at least it'll be enough to heal me and gain some of my strength back.)

Bella: (Why does it feel like... someone is looking at me?)

Your character turns, to spot our first familiar face, Ayato Sakamaki. He is simply staring at her as if to admire her figure.

Bella: (Ew... what a fucking creep. He has nothing better to do, huh? Argh, men...)

Bella: (Whoa, that bone structure though... and those eyes. They're like pure emeralds.)

We see another familiar face appear in the scene, Yui. It's strange, seeing her not in the corner, but on the same scale as Ayato. She looks quite worried. There is a Japanese audio, but it seems your character cannot understand the language.

Bella: (That boy... He's familiar... That doesn't matter- he's acting with a lot of disrespect toward the poor girl...)

Bella: (Should I butt in?)

CHOOSE:

Intervene <<<<♡

Don't Intervene

You chose Intervene.

Bella: "Hey, I don't think that's a very nice way to talk to a girl."

Ayato: "Hm? What did you say...?"

Bella: "I said, fuck off. I couldn't understand what the fuck you were saying, but I know you addressed her in a hostile way."

Ayato: "What makes you think you can tell ore-sama what to say to chichinashi, melons?"

Bella: "Don't call me melons, Christmas."

Ayato: "Christmas??"

Bella: "Yeah, you have red hair and green eyes, idiot. If you wanna pick a fight with me, be aware I'll snap back."

Ayato: "..."

Ayato: "Chichinashi! Hurry and come back to the car."

Ayato exits. Yui goes to follow.

Bella: "Wait one second."

Yui:"Hm?"

Bella: "Are you okay...? If he's not treating you right, I can help."

Yui: "Oh... That's very kind of you, but when Ayato-kun gets like this... Best thing to do is do what he says..."

Bella: (I can't help her if she doesn't let me...)

Bella: "Alright, but hey, take my number. If you want, call me. If I'm still in town, I'll get you away."

Your character hands Yui a slip of paper with your number on it.

Yui: "Oh... How nice of you. Thank you so much..."

Bella: "Yeah, what's your name, kid?"

Yui: "My name is Yui Komori... Who are you?"

Bella: "Bella Wayland, nice to meet you, Ms Komori."

Yui: "Nice to meet you too... Thank you."

Ayato: "CHICHINASHI!!!"

Yui: "Kya...! I better go..."

Bella: "Keep my number, be safe."

Yui: "Thank you again... goodbye..."

Bella: "Arrivederci."

Yui leaves, leaving Bella to pay for her food and leave.

[lace-coffin]

I have a request. Could you pretty please do some spicy headcanons of Asa with a bratty S/O 🙏. He probably has no tolerance for disobedience so having a bratty pet would result in punishment. Apologies I'm a horny bastard lmao 😂

How would Asa Emory cope with a bratty s/o? (Nsfw)

Asa Emory x gn!bratty!reader

Trigger warning for sexual content- bdsm- power exchange/ power dynamic- spanking

If you asked Asa if he likes brats a few months ago he would frown and say no. Not enjoying the constant battle and frustration of trying to subdue them, Asa wants complete submission and expects nothing less.

If you asked Asa if he likes brats in the present day he would smirk and tell you “they’re not as clever as they think they are” thinking fondly of you, at home, still chained to the wall where he left you, hopefully that is, you’re a slippery one to hold down.

Had Asa known you’d been a brat when scouting you for the collection he wouldn’t have bothered, would’ve found someone more easy to command. God is he thankful he didn’t.

He expected to hate training you, but he couldn’t love it any less. You were harder to break down than previous pets, kicking, swearing,spitting, straight up ignoring him sometimes. The punishments that followed were indulgent for him, marvelling at the way you fought hard at first, all gnashing teeth and scratches.

This was no longer the case once Asa had wrestled you to floor, both panting and glaring eachother down. Pinning your arms above your head and sliding his leather belt out of the loops. Shit. You knew where this was going. This only makes you thrash harder, legs jutting into his stomach, winding him momentarily.

Regaining his position over you he snatches your legs, fastening the belt around your claves and securing them. Before you can even think to fight back your hauled over to the sofa and slung over Asa’s knees, bottoms and underwear ripped down unceremoniously.

“Now, pet, you can either choose to apologise and the punishment will be lighter or you can continue being the dumb little mutt we both know you are and receive the full extent of it.” A moment passes in silence….”get fucked” you spit back. “You never learn, there really isn’t anything going on up there is there? You need daddy to tell you how and when to think, it’s pathetic.”

They way you break down into a dumb sobbing mess is beautiful in Asa’s eyes, all big talk and flailing until his black gloved hand comes down onto your exposed ass, again and again,leaving you begging and sobbing out apologies.

Asa looks at you pitifully, taking in the tears clinging your lashes and the rosey hue of your beaten ass, he knows you’ll be feeling it for the next day or two. His gaze softens as he rubs some ointment on your red behind and pulls your underwear back up, manoeuvring you to lay on the sofa on your side, careful not to put pressure on your butt.

He hushes your whines of complaint as he leaves briefly to get you a snack and a juice box, he may be a sadistic dom/lover but he’s not an improper one, aftercare is non negotiable and is always first priority after a scene.

He returns and settles into the sofa next to you, prompting you to sit upright so he can feed you, your brain still fuzzy and airy in Subspace.

Your master runs a hand over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear and looking at you smittenly. “See how easy it is when you’re good for me? You can just be a little pet and let master do the thinking ok? No need to be bratty. Just let daddy handle all the difficult things and it’ll be ok.” he practically coo’s at you, fondly committing your far away subby look to memory. “I have you, my silly cricket”

[disasterofastory]

The maid of Mr. Barnes + Yes, Mr. Barnes (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The maid of Mr. Barnes + Yes, Mr. Barnes // Extra chapter for this series Bucky Barnes x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: nothing but porn

Summary: Bucky needs his little maid in his office.

A/N: Here is another extra chapter because the next part will mention Steve’s past with Sugar and I’m still not sure about their story.

And my requests are open if you want to read something winter/Christmas themed extra chapter about Bucky and his Bunny.

Your breathing is already heavy as you reach the door of his office. Excitement runs up and down your spine. Your stomach is in a tight knot. The doorknob is cold between your fingers as you stop yourself for a second. The little maid dress barely hides your body, emphasizing every curve you have. The deep breath you try to calm yourself with pushes your tits up even more.

Okay, you sigh, I'm ready.

"Did you want to see me, Mr. Barnes?" You ask the man as you step into his office, closing the door behind you. He sits at his desk in dark pants and a green shirt. His blue eyes seem dark as his attention turns to you. The corners of his lips jerk up at the view of you in the dress he bought a few days ago. It looks even better than he imagined.

“Come here, Bunny,” Bucky orders, pushing himself back to give you enough space between him and his desk. He watches you waitingly as you make your way to him. Your black heels echo in the quiet office. It highlights the soft curve of your claves. Your heart beats in your ears, and your thighs press together without your control. The black skirt barely hides the black panties you wear. His hungry eyes look up and down on your bare legs.

Yeah, you look even better than any filthy fantasy he had of you.

The silence stretches between you as he just stares at you with a dangerous glint in his gaze. Legs spread open to let you notice the impatient bulge under his dark pants.

"You know what happens with little thieves like you?" He speaks up after a while. You shake your head as an answer, not finding your voice. "Well," he continues. "We search them first." "W-what?" You gasp out quietly. "You heard me, Bunny." A lazy smirk pulls on his plump lips. "Bend over my desk."

You have to brace yourself on the desk behind you to keep your balance as you do as he says. Your legs shake. Soon, you are on the wooden surface. The pleated skirt hides nothing from your boss.

"So pretty," he says, getting closer to your heated center when he stands up from his seat. "Such a shame you tried to steal from me, hm?" He teases. "I didn't-" you try to argue, but a quick slap on your ass stops you from saying anything else. The hit stings on your bottom, making you gasp with pain and surprise. "Did I tell you to speak?" He asks. His voice sounds like thunder. "No," you reply. Another hit. Your back arches. "No, what?" he demands. "No, Mr. Barnes," you correct yourself. Your grip is tight on the edge of the table. "That's right," he says, massaging the warm flesh. His cock throbs at the view of your ass. "And now we will see if you have anything on you, hm?" His hand slides up into your hair and tugs it into his fist. He pulls you up until your lips crush together as your back melts against his chest. His cock throbs hot against your backside. "Maybe you have something here?" He murmurs into your neck, moving his hands to your breasts. He grabs them, massaging them through the fabric. The edge of the desk is pressed to your hips, but you can't feel the pain. Your mind is filled with your boss and everything he does to you. He grabs the collar of the dress to yank it down. Your tits spill out, giving Bucky free access to your hardened nipples. He pulls on the sensitive nub until you moan and push your ass more into his throbbing groin. "Nothing in here, hm?" His breath is hot on your neck. "Maybe here?" His hands slide down on your dress until he finds the small pocket of your apron. "And there it is." "What?" You ask, shocked. Whatever he found, he pulls it out of your pocket, holding it up in front of your face. It's a new necklace. The gems shine and glitter under the lights. "Oh," you gasp out. "It's beautiful." "Maybe that's why you wanted it for yourself?" Bucky asks, pulling you back into your little play. "No, Mr. Barnes," you shake your head, still staring at the jewel. "I didn't...” "You didn't, hm?" He laughs. It's dangerous and threatening. You moan. "What did you want to do with it? You thought you could just walk out with it?" "No," you shake your head again. "I swear, Mr. Barnes." "Swear all you want, Bunny." He pushes himself against your bottom more. His erection pulses. "You want this?" He asks, swinging the necklace in front of you. "You have to earn it." "Yes, Mr. Barnes. Anything." "Anything? Are you ready to do anything?" "Yes, Mr. Barnes." "Good," he groans, rocking his hips against you while putting the glittering jewel around your neck. The pedant feels heavy between your breasts. "If you want this," he tugs on the necklace, "you have to ride this." He pushes his erection to your ass again without his pants this time. "Can you do that? Can you ride me, Bunny?" "Please," you groan. "Please, what?" "Please, Mr. Barnes," you beg. "Please fuck me." "Aw, my little Bunny is wet, hm? She can't wait to feel my cock in her pretty pussy?" You squeal as he yanks your panties down, kissing your still burning cheek on his way. Your excited scent fills his nostrils. "Yes," you gasp. "Please, let me have your cock. Please!"

Bucky sits back on his chair and guides you down to his lap. He eases you onto his aching cock, watching as it twitches against your ass, sliding to your slick pussy. He groans at your heat, making his swollen head spurt fresh precum over your soft pussy. “Just like that, Bunny, ” He hisses. Your tight hole swallows up the crown of his cock, stretching around his girth as you lower yourself down some more. He watches you slowly take every inch of him. “Fuck,” he groans. "Your pussy is so wet I don't even have to prep you. You were already dripping on your way here, hm?" You mewl, panting as you get used to the size of him in you. So many times, and you still need time to adjust to him. After a while, you brace yourself on the armrest of the chair. Your legs are in a big spread next to his, keeping yourself on your tiptoes. Your thighs quiver as you stand up until just his swollen head is inside you. "Do it, Bunny," he encourages you, keeping his breath in anticipation. "Give me your pussy." You drop back down until you are filled to the brim again. A cry of pleasure leaves your lips. Your whole body shakes at the feeling so full of him. “Ride me, Y/N,” Bucky groans. His hands find your ass, gripping it. “Hop on my cock, little Bunny.” Your moans fill the office as your tight cunt drips all over his thick cock. “Bucky,” you pant. “Bounce on my cock,” He growls, twitching in you. “Ride my cock until you come like a good little maid for me to use.” You slide up again, still gripping the armrest. Your pleasure drips down to the base of the man's cock, soaking him in your wetness before dropping back down. Both of you cry out. You squeeze him inside you while Bucky's hands from your bottom slide up to your hips. His pulse hammers as your quivering hole swallows every inch. Your back arches, riding him harder and faster. Your breasts bounce as you move up and down. The wet sounds of Bucky's erection driving into you fill the small room along with your moans of pleasure. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your skin, and your legs shake from balancing yourself on his cock. Your cream glistens on Bucky's shaft. He can't tear his eyes away from your bottom as his cock disappears in your hole again and again.

“I will cum, Bunny,” he groans, still keeping his hands on your hips. The chair creaks under you. At his words, your walls tighten around him. You shake as you chase your own pleasure, feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. “Come for me. Ride me until I feel your pussy milking my cock.” "Bucky!" You shudder as your pussy clamps down around his shaft. Your whole body trembles at the all-consuming feeling. Your back arches and your legs give up under you. Black dots dance in front of your tear-filled eyes while Bucky keeps thrusting into you. His balls tighten and cock jerks. His lungs burn as he forgets how to breathe. Then it booms. He grunts, exploding into you. His muscles are taut as he plasters your walls with his cum. Over and over, coating you until it starts to trickle out, soaking him even more.

You fall back on his chest, melting into Bucky's arms as he holds you close. His softening cock is still inside you. "What do you think?" He smirks, kissing your neck here and there. He sniffs your soft skin between your shoulder and neck. You smell like him. "It was a good idea. An amazing idea," you breathe out. Your throat hurts from moaning and screaming so much. "Next time, we should do something at the pool?" He grins. "But I could be the boss this time," you propose. You can feel your pussy gush around his cock from the idea. "Yes, ma'am."

[thiawen]

@alexanderlightweight You’ve been so prolific lately and with such great content that you’ve inspired me. Consider this a gift.

The Blessings of a Curse

“No. Absolutely not.”

Alec’s voice was hard and unyielding, a tone that made the rest of his hunters stand at attention.

“But you’ll die!” Isabelle cried out in dismay.

“There are worse things.” He told her with a cold certainty.

“Damnit, Alec!” Jace growled. “You have to! It’s fuck or die! Clary is offering!”

And that fact probably upset Jace the most. Alec was too disciplined to roll his eyes, but he certainly wanted to. Alec didn’t think for a second Clary was offering out of the goodness of her heart, even if she did find him attractive. Maybe she was mostly offering for Jace’s sake. Maybe she knew that if she didn’t offer, no other Nephilim would work with her ever again. Alec was positive that it was mostly so she could hold it over his head, even if she didn’t consciously realize it.

Nevermind that she owed him ten times over. He knew she didn’t see it that way. There were no debts between Shadowhunters, not in the field, and Clary seemed to think she was one just because she was a Nephilim. As if that alone was enough.

No. Clary would use it as a debt owed. She would wield it like a weapon against him, he knew. Anytime she wanted something from him, or to escape the consequences of her actions, or for him to give in to her reckless and/or selfish desires. She would bring up what she had done, like it was some great sacrifice on her part instead of his. Something she alone had suffered on his behalf and conveniently forgetting that he was only in this mess because of her. Alec would never hear the end of it.

“I would rather die.” He vowed.

“Please, Alec.” She pleaded, as if she weren’t offering a deal with the devil. “I want to help. I promise I’m okay with this.”

“Well I’m not okay with it.” He told her. “I’ve made my decision and I’m ready to meet my maker.”

“You really think Raziel would approve of you dying for this?” Jace asked him. “When you have a solution right in front of you?”

Alec can’t even describe how much he would rather fall on his own sword. “I’m positive Raziel will think I’ve died with honor.”

“Damn straight.” He barely hears murmured from somewhere in the Ops Center, the other Shadowhunters nodding in agreement.

Alec makes a mental note to give them all raises before he shuffles off his mortal coil.

“Alec.” Isabelle begged. “We can’t lose you. Is there any way you would say yes?”

“Find someone else.” He told his sister. Anyone but her, he silently beseeched the universe.

“There isn’t anyone else. ‘Fathered by a man of angel blood who consorts with the demons of Edom’ is a very specific requirement.”

At that moment, like an answer to a prayer, Magnus strolled in.

“I do believe my ears are burning.” The warlock smirked.

“Magnus.” Alec breathed. “You came.” He was so relieved.

He had hoped he could see Magnus one last time. It had felt selfish to ask him to come. But if Alec was going to die then he wanted it to be on his terms. What did the disapproval of the Clave or his parents matter when faced with the certainty of a painful death? He only had until midnight and he had decided to spend those hours with Magnus, to give himself what he wanted in his last moments.

He wanted to kiss Magnus and be kissed in return. To hold him and be held. He wanted so much with Magnus and he could only hope the other man would forgive him for being unable to give him more time. More than anything, he regretted that he had done nothing before now.

“For you, darling, always.” Magnus promised. “I heard you were forced to pick up the slack again and were cursed by a rogue Unseelie for your efforts. You really do need more competent help.”

“I really do.” He sighed in agreement, ignoring the protests from Jace and Clary.

“Can you break the curse?” Isabelle asked Magnus.

“Oh, absolutely. Tell me, Alexander. Did I ever tell you about my father?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why?”

“I am the son of Asmodeus.” He purred with a vicious smile, eyes glinting.

“The Greater Demon?” No wonder Magnus was so powerful.

“The fallen angel.” Magnus emphasized. “The King of Edom and all the demons therein.”

Alec stared for a moment, delighted. “I’ve suddenly found the will to live.” He declared. Then, he marched straight to Magnus and right there in the middle of the Institute, surrounded by Shadowhunters, he pressed his lips to Magnus’s in a desperate and passionate kiss.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi there! for a prompt i was wondering if you would be up for something where Magnus learns that Alec has so many more responsibilities than he thought he did. I just love the idea of Magnus being sure that being High Worlock was so much more challenging than being the HOTI. Thank you!

i played with the prompt a bit and this is some of Magnus helping and witnessing how much responsibility Alec is taking on and being incredibly proud of him and impressed (imo they are equally challenging and complicated jobs but in extensively different ways. on one hand, magnus has a great deal many more people to look out for and a lot of conflicts to be aware of, especially within downworld tensions etc while alec is responsible in a different way for his people, since they expect to live and die by his word and he's also politicing with fossilized clave brains and he hunts nightly).

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

-

“I adore you—” Magnus murmurs as he presses a kiss to the shell of Alexander’s ear.

“I love you too babe,” his darling says back, utterly sincere even in his distraction, a little pleased smile curling his lips even as his brow furrows as he considers the tablet in his hands. “Now what do you think of simulating ice in the training room with magic? An official commission of course, I’m documenting everything in case other Institutes want to follow my lead with training.” Magnus already knows Alexander is planning — hoping — for that outcome. “I want to get them used to ice before I let them out this winter.”

Magnus makes an inquiring noise and Alexander shrugs with an amused but tired sigh.

“Baby shadowhunters learning to use speed runes and unused to moving at those speeds on ice with this much concrete and mundane vehicles? It’s a mess and I know for my family, it ended up pretty bloody the first dozen times until we got the hang of it.” Alexander shrugs as if it’s nothing big but Magnus can see the tightness of his shoulders, “it felt fun the first few times, but it got old. More quickly for me than Izzy and Jace. They were more frustrated but—” and Magnus wants to reach into Alexander’s chest and scoop out the sorrow binding his heart, “I got tired of seeing my little brother and sister covered in blood or with bones shattering through their skin.”

It makes Magnus sick, to think of Alexander like that. To think of the fact that they were probably out on their own already when that happened.

“I’m happy to do it,” Magnus tells him and his palm turns on Alexander’s thigh, offering up his fingers with a wiggle that catches his boy’s attention. A hand leaves the tablet to join his own and Magnus hums contentedly, “I can easily summon some gymnastic equipment and ice it over.” At Alexander’s look he sends his own, “I’ve seen what you and your hunters can do, my love. Don’t look at me like that, we both know whose right.”

It’s Magnus, and he takes great pride in the fact that the only response Alexander can give is a rueful huff.

“That would probably help them figure out balance easier and in a much more controlled manner.” Alexander finally admits and then his mouth twitches, “not to mention that this group will practically consider it a reward. It’s a fun way for them to learn, they won’t treat that lightly. I’ll probably have to put a limit on how much time I let them train in there.”

Magnus laughs, unable to help it and he can’t help but tug on Alexander’s hand until he can press his lips against the little scars where Alexander’s knuckles once split.

“Now, tell me again, lovely. What hidden weapon did you decide to first teach your cherubs?”

“Blowdart.” Alexander says and he puts down the tablet to summon an elegant, adamas blowdart to his palm.

Magnus bites back his appreciation, because this isn’t the time for it, unfortunately.

Alexander has given enough of his day over and while Magnus has appointments, he’s more than willing to let them run late and stay a bit longer with his love. Especially when he gets more insight and a better understanding of Alexander’s responsibility. His hunter isn’t hesitant to speak with Magnus, but he rarely wants to bring clave or Institute issues to their home. Oh he’ll pace and rant about one or two specific indivduals — typically clave — stupidity, but he rarely opens up about the intricacies of his nights.

Magnus knows he trains, himself and others. That he hunts and overseas reports and and that each head of the various departments reports to him in finality. There are a dozen other responsibilities that Magnus knows about almost peripherally, but Alexander also tends to assume that Magnus already knows. He treats each duty that he — finally — will mention as an afterthought. As thought it’s impossible that Magnus didn’t already know of it.

As flattering as it is, it’s also maddening in these instances. Magnus supposes it is a bit his own fault. He’d made quite a show of his ‘knowledge’ when teasing Alexander when they’d first met and later in pettiness when he’d come for help.

It leaves Magnus hungry for each piece of information that Alexander lets slip, his boy never guessing that Magnus hoards each piece as a new sliver of a grand puzzle.

It’s a delight to unravel Alexander, especially when Magnus is rewarded each time with evidence of Alexander’s abilities.

His darling never disappoints.

[foodsies4me]

My Dearest Gumdrop,

I have recently binged the entirety of trainee-verse. Your wonderful masterpiece gives me life. Then I started to read everything on AO3 account and must now humbly beg your opinion on a thought your amazing work has sparked. (And possibly a prompt….)

Got to thinking about tiny humans and milestones and the fact that Tiny Shadowhunters probably grow up tracing the runes on their parents’/guardians’ skin. And because All Things Angelic are Super Important, it’s a Big Thing when a tiny human draws their first rune while coloring/finger-painting/drawing-on-the-Institute-walls, on par with first steps, first words, first curse, etc….

And maybe this is something that Tiny Shadowhunters are told about, a bit like the Zhua Zhou fortune-telling ceremonies, First Runes are meant to say something about the Shadowhunter….

Cue a new Runes Master (or Clave teaching auditor) who does a little ‘Get To Know Me’ exercise with the Trainees, “Let’s all draw our First Runes and what Rune you wish to get after your Runing Ceremony. Then we’ll talk about them!”

…… Everyone draws ‘Deflect’ at least once, but they all have an unusually uniform hump at the bottom…..

(Someone we wouldn’t expect points out the Trainees are tracing the Rune in 3D as it dips over Alec’s collarbone).

My dearest Bean,

this prompt has had me feral for the days because of my stars is it adorable. Of course, Nephilim would have a ceremony like that because the seven runes they decide to draw, the runes they find themselves drawn to are supposed to be the runes that will guide their life as a shadowhunter. Some parents or institutes try to cheat by pushing their kids in a certain direction rune wise but that fails more often than it works.

I can just imagine an outsider’s POV (an OC or maybe Lydia to have her join the story) be confused how all of the trainees who grew up at the NYI have been drawing the same deflect rune with the same mistake for years: Max, Leo etc.

They don’t understand why until it’s Steph’s audit and she enters the room cradled in Alec’s arms and everyone sees her tracing Alec’s rune, shoulder blade bump included. Steph doesn’t notice the auditer(s) watching too busy chewing on her lips because she forgot all of her runes and she’s doing the audit alone because Rara is two years older than her and she needs to choose good runes and everything is being very scary and not fun.

The auditer (OC or Lydia) ends up hopelessly charmed and (if it’s Lydia) decides to move to the NYI because a Head that is so clearly adored by all of his trainees is a Head worth working for.

(Can you tell I’ve been thinking of nothing but this prompt since I got it? Because I have, seriously THIS IS SO CUTE I CAN’T.)

Also, Steph ends up drawing: the always-present deflect rune, a promise rune, a bridge rune, agape, angelic rune, fireproof and something the auditers can’t make out but Alec recognizes as her attempts at a familias rune.

Also also, because it hasn’t made its way into the series yet. Steph is Alec’s official, legal goddaughter not that he knows it because Steph’s mom bamboozled him and made him sign a godparent agreement with Izzy and Jace’s help without reading it. It’s an open secret in the institute and everyone is betting on when he finds out. Yes the trainees are also in on the secret and have been sworn to secrecy much to their absolute delight. Steph doesn’t know yet either because the chance of her spoiling is too big.

[kirkfall]

all the way to the graveyard

fandom: the mortal instruments / shadowhunters (mix of book and show lore)

pairing: alec lightwood/magnus background, mostly just alec and jace being good parabatai and good brothers.

summary: Clary and Jace are a mess when they stumble out of the swirling image of the lake. It’s unclear who’s holding up who at first—they’re both covered in blood, clothing torn in various places. There’s a bloody seraph blade clutched in Jace’s other hand. Panic and fear flood through him—Jace’s panic and fear. He wouldn’t be this scared if he was worried about himself—at the very least, he wouldn’t let Alec in enough to feel it.

length: ~2k

Alec can’t breathe. Oxygen feels like something so far removed from him, so far out of his reach that he’s not sure he ever had it in the first place. He’s vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder, another latched onto his arm, and voices around him. But that, too, is so distant that he can’t even recognize them.

Their breaths and their heartbeats and their souls were supposed to be one and the same. How the fuck is he supposed to keep breathing?

It doesn’t hurt. Alec feels nothing—his body and his mind and his soul are numb, and somehow it’s worse this way. God, Alec wishes he could say that it still hurt. That the pain was so great that he couldn’t stand it, that the phantom pain lingered and ached and reminded him, that all he could do was lay on the floor of the Institute and scream. It should hurt. It should hurt.

Alec can’t move. Alec can’t breathe.

Alec can’t feel.

“I need—” His own voice surprises him; he hardly recognizes it, more breathless and strained than he’s felt in his life. “We need to know if Valentine’s succeeded.”

The hand on his shoulder squeezes. It’s Magnus—whose face appears in front of him, brows knit and his lips pressed together tightly. “Alexander—”

“Help me up,” he says. When Magnus doesn’t move, he looks back at Izzy—she’s still sitting on the floor behind him, gaze unfocused and far away. Alec wants to do the same, but he knows that someone has to step up and take charge, and it’s not going to be the Clave. He’ll make damn sure of that. “Magnus, I have to find them before Valentine can get—just—help me up.”

He knows how this sounds. How they know that Jace is dead, how Alec needs to just move on and focus, but he is focused. He’s focused on finding Clary. Focused on finding Jace. Focused on finding Valentine and making him pay for hurting his family. 

No one in his family is getting hurt again—not if he can do something about it.

Magnus stares at him for another moment, maybe looking to the rest of the Institute like he’s debating whether it’s worth it to argue this. But Alec’s going to do this whether he has help or not, and Magnus isn’t the kind of guy who just abandons a person because he doesn’t agree with them. They’re both firmly aware of these facts. They also both know what will happen if Valentine succeeds. Alec sees pain and understanding in Magnus’ eyes. He sees grief. He sees anger.

So when Magnus says, “fine,” and shifts to help Alec stand, neither of them are surprised.

“How many patrols does the Clave have outside of Alicante?” Getting to the table, even with help, is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. He lets it and Magnus support his weight—if he’s going to do his job, he’s going to have to be okay with needing help. At least for now. “Tell the Clave to direct all of them, every single one, to the Lake now.” He looks up at the Shadowhunters bustling around the Institute—most are grabbing weapons, buckling on gear, preparing for travel and preparing for battle. “We are not letting Valentine get away again.”

“I’ll get clearance to open a Portal.” Magnus says next to him, though he doesn’t move from where he stands at Alec’s side—one hand still on his back, the other on his arm.

Alec shakes his head. “Just do it.” he says. “I’ll deal with the Clave when—” his voice catches in his throat. When I know that Clary and Jace are safe. he thinks. When I know that they’re alive. The words don’t come. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to say it—Magnus knows. He nods, squeezing Alec’s bicep with a soft okay. Magnus turns, raising a hand, and—

At the end of the hallway, reality snaps and tears open. The Institute looks up as one entity; the grind of metal echoes and fills the room as weapons are drawn and a Portal opens.

Magnus’ grip on Alec’s arm becomes painful—he barely hears Izzy’s sharp inhale behind him as his vision tunnels. 

Clary and Jace are a mess when they stumble out of the swirling image of the lake. It’s unclear who’s holding up who at first—they’re both covered in blood, clothing torn in various places. There’s a bloody seraph blade clutched in Jace’s other hand. But it becomes glaringly obvious when Jace looks up and meets his eyes. Panic and fear flood through him—Jace’s panic and fear, it’s a fucking miracle that he’s feeling it at all. He wouldn’t be this scared if he was worried about himself—at the very least, he wouldn’t let Alec in enough to feel it.

The Portal shatters behind them, raining down on their heads like a city of broken glass.

It breaks the spell over the entire Institute, and Alec pays no mind to the voices calling after him as he pushes away from the table. He blinks and finds himself at the end of the hall—Alec reaches forward to take their combined weight, whatever weakness and exhaustion he was feeling before completely forgotten. He doesn’t see any obvious sign of injury on his brother, but the panic is still there. What is he missing? What didn’t he see?

“Clary needs help,” is the first thing out of Jace’s mouth.

Right. That’s what he’d forgotten. Alec was so focused on making sure Jace was alive that he’d completely overlooked the lack of someone driving him up a fucking wall. He gives Jace’s arm a quick squeeze, then reaches into his pocket for his stele. There’s a nasty gash on her head, still bleeding profusely—he’s not too worried about that part, though. He’s more worried about the lack of consciousness, the lack of a response when he wipes some of the blood away.

Maybe she’s an annoying little shit, but she’s their annoying little shit. And Alec was just starting to think… maybe they weren’t close, and barely even friends, but maybe they could be.

She’s fine, he tells himself. They’re both fine.

Alec is already tracing over the iratze on her neck. On her wrist he draws a second Mark—it slows the bleeding, at least, which pulls a relieved sigh out of Jace. “Did she run face-first into a sword? What happened?”

“Well, she didn’t,” Jace says, expression all screwed up. He immediately notices the look on Alec’s face, and shakes his head. Some kind of joke that he apparently doesn’t plan on explaining—but does he really need to? Alec remembers the pain, the feeling of emptiness, the nothing. It’s not a good realization. “I think Valentine tried to bash her face in with a rock.”

He just stares. “You think?”

“I don’t know, Alec.” Jace says, forcing out a breath. “It’s a little fuzzy. It was—there was a lot going on, man.”

Alec thinks that’s probably the understatement of the fucking century. “I felt—I thought you were—”

Jace knows what he’s talking about. “One of ‘em got me pretty good. I guess in the end I’m just a better Shadowhunter than them—can’t blame them for trying, but you know me. I’m just built different.”

”By the fucking Angel.”

“And by that I mean I’m not a demon.” Jace adds. “Just in case you didn’t already know. In case it needed clarification—Valentine’s not my father, and he didn’t inject creepy crawlies in my blood. We were, uh—what’s the word?” He pauses while they haul themselves up as a semi-cohesive unit. Shadowhunters scramble to get out of their way, shooed off and threatened by Magnus and Izzy. He’d forgotten they were there. “Oh. Right. Bamboozled, Alec. We were befuddled.”

“You were bamboozled.” Alec corrects him. “I always knew. Your sense of humor was too good to come from Valentine.”

Jace chuckles breathlessly. “You know it.”

It’s not until they’ve left Clary with Magnus and Izzy that Alec realizes he’s shaking. He’s sitting outside the Institute’s infirmary, leg bouncing mercilessly as he leans forward with his head buried in his hands. He can’t stop it, he can’t stop the shivering of his hands no matter how hard he grips his hair, can’t stop his stomach from churning at the waiting and the waiting and the waiting.

They’d kicked him out the fifth time he asked Jace if he was sure he was fine. He’s starting to debate barging in and asking again.

“You’re gonna rip your hair out.” Jace’s voice rings from overhead. Alec lifts his head to see him leaning against the closed door, one foot propped against it. He’s still holding his seraph blade in a death grip. Almost like he’s scared to put it down. He’s guarding the door—it’s something he sees whenever Izzy’s in there, or hears about when he is. Jace likes to pretend no one knows he’s doing it, despite how unnecessary it is.

What the hell happened to them out there?

“Sorry, mom,” he says. Alec straightens his back. “Clean bill of health?”

Jace snorts. “Told him you’d ask.”

“I meant Clary.” Alec defends.

“Sure you did,” Jace says. “I’m going to pretend that’s at all plausible, and you’re going to pretend you meant it, and we’re all going to sit here and be liars together. And that’s what I call family bonding.”

God, he’s insufferable. Alec is really fucking glad to see him.

“Speaking of family bonding—Valentine?” Alec drops his hands in his lap and leans back in his chair. “Is he dead?”

“Do you seriously think I was gonna let him live?” Jace asks, eyebrows shooting up. “There was no chance he was getting away again. Not after—not after everything.” Everything. Even that one word, the one word that covers all of it, doesn’t seem like it’s enough to describe the bullshit that Valentine had put them through.

“So you killed him.” 

“Nah.” Jace grins. “Clary did.”

He must look as shocked as he feels, because Jace laughs—the bastard laughs at him. “No, seriously. He was already dead when I got there—I made sure it stuck, though.”

Alec can imagine. “And then, what? Clary made a Portal and you came back? He didn’t have any guards? Nothing? The rest of the Circle just let you leave?”

“Pretty much.” Jace flips his blade and wipes Nephilim blood on his pants. Alec’s insides twist at the thought of who it could have belonged to. Was it Valentine’s? Was it Jace’s? And what about the blood that stained his hands and his arms when he appeared? Who did that belong to? “You know that thing where kidnappers let you go because of how amazing you are?” Jace asks, turning to look at him.

Alec frowns. “I’m pretty sure it’s annoying.”

“Yeah,” Jace grins, clapping Alec’s shoulder. “They were pretty upset about it, too.” Alec opens his mouth to say something, but the look on his brother’s face says do not engage. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes; he tries to force it, but Alec knows better. Alec knows him. Usually, a little probing is enough to get him to open up, but Jace isn’t going to talk about this—no  matter how much he pushes. He’s not ready. 

So Alec won’t ask again, this time—he’ll leave that particular question alone for now. Until he’s ready. Until they’re both ready.

”Jace,” he starts. When Jace turns to look at him, a question on his lips, no words come out. He can’t speak. He swallows, shifts his weight, and suddenly the confusion turns to concern.

“Alec?” Jace is standing next to him, all of a sudden, a hand on his shoulder and one on his arm. His hands are warm, because he’s alive. He’s alive, and Alec chokes on the sob he’s been holding in. “Alec, what’s wrong?” Jace asks, panicked.

He just yanks Jace in for a tight hug.

“Alec, I’m fine,” his brother’s laugh is a little weak, and Alec can feel the concern rippling through him. Neither of them really know what the hell is going on here, except they both sort of do.

“I know,” he says. “I know.”

[brightwoods]

Does anyone else feel like almost all of the conflicts that had to do with the various character dynamics in Chain of Thorns didn’t actually get resolved, they just unexplainably ceased to exist after two books of building them up because CC didn’t feel like writing them anymore and she didn’t know how to resolve it naturally after how she’d built the issues up so much?

Like how none of the characters but Cordelia and Thomas had any clue about the Alastair and Charles situation and then suddenly in CoT it was like who doesn’t know? Of course Matthew knew and didn’t say anything before and then randomly brought it up to Cordelia in Paris while assuming she knew too

Or how Alastair and Thomas went from how things were at the end of CoI with Alastair thinking it could never work because Thomas’s friends hate him to oh look everyone suddenly is friends with Alastair with no grudge with no development of that in this book at all, just an abrupt shift

Especially the Alastair and Matthew dynamic where Matthew hated Alastair and wanted him to have nothing to do with any of their friends and he spent CoI ranting about him to Cordelia. And then suddenly in CoT it’s like of course Matthew is supportive of Thomas and Alastair and oh look Matthew and Alastair are suddenly not just tolerating each other for Thomas’s sake but friends despite barely interacting and no development actually showing and never getting any mention of the other in their own POVs, just having Cordelia be like Alastair stop being dumb, you’re literally friends with him now

Or like everyone other than Christopher and Grace where it was like oh we don’t like her for how she’s treated us and her friends straight to anyway she’s one of us. Like yes Grace was useful and yes Tatiana manipulated her whole life, but none of that was why anyone changed their minds or opinions? It was just suddenly the flip of a switch when it was convenient for CC

Or Anna and Ariadne where it didn’t so much develop as Anna just acted mean to Ariadne on and off throughout the series and at the end of CoI she wanted nothing to do with a relationship and then in CoT she was just suddenly like sure I guess I do. Also, slightly different note, but I did not like that Anna barely interacted with anyone else for the entire book and she was just off in the corner being an irrelevant romantic subplot for almost all of the book except when she showed up to barely even be shown in the background being sad about her brother being dead

(Although Anna still got more of a reaction than everyone else and his death was poorly executed all around in the sense of how did you write this so predictably and poorly that no one even knows when he died and it’s so background and 99% of the characters don’t care at all and we don’t see his parents finding out or much of Thomas’s reaction or anything and it’s just as if he wasn’t a character anymore 2 seconds later which is a different genre of issue with CoT but similar problem in the sense that both issues made the book feel a lot more emotionless to read)

And how the issues of Thomas and Alastair being together as two men and Anna and Ariadne being together as two women in this time and the issues of what would happen if the fact that Charles and Alastair were gay got out to the entire Clave just disappeared and never got addressed at all. We know how the ClVe reacted to Alec Lightwood YEARS later. We know society was homophobic at the time TLH is set and that it seems like shadowhunter society was a lot less open-minded than mundanes a century later

I understand that Charles being blackmailed and making shitty decisions was annoying but it was like suddenly everyone finding out wouldn’t have consequences and all the other queer men characters were like how could you possibly be worried about this :/ as if they haven’t spent the whole series knowing they have to be careful about who they tell. And then suddenly it was just of course it’s totally fine and safe to have everyone find out and why wouldn’t you be fine with that. And it was really written in a way that had other queer characters like oh Charles is such a coward for not being ready to publicly tell a bunch of homophobic people his sexuality and it just wasn’t it??? And super weird after Thomas was terrified of telling even Anna and Matthew for years. And also, I did not care for the fact that when Charles did go risk getting outed to finally do the right thing, we didn’t even get to see it through any character’s perspective or how that important meeting went, we just got one line of dialogue from somebody else saying that it happened with no details at all. And I can’t think of other examples right now but there were quite a few moments like that where we got one line saying that something had happened that was important to the plot and to characters’ development that seemed like it would have been more interesting than some of what we did get to see where it was just totally breezed over and way too easy and totally background to less important stuff

And then there was the whole no one reacting to Ariadne and Anna dancing together publicly thing was like yeah that’s nice I guess but not realistic and it doesn’t go with the way things have been presented up to that point, it also just feels like a situation where CC was like well this would be easier for me so there just won’t be consequences and then they can easily end up happily together

And then there was the whole Thomas and Alastair thinking they couldn’t realistically be together thing and knowing they couldn’t get married or be known to be together by anyone they’re not close to and then at the end it’s still not really addressed how they’re going to be together? Like there was the laziest write off of the family tree being wrong and then we still are just left to assume that eventually they move in together and suddenly it’s not a problem and everyone’s fine with it? And then I also feel like we don’t actually know if everyone found out about Alastair and Charles’ sexualities after the blackmail or if people are going to assume about Thomas and Alastair or if that’ll cause issues or if no one knows outside of who they’ve told and they have to be careful or what. Which like wouldn’t necessarily need to be addressed if it wasn’t for the logistics of being together as two men in that time being part of the obstacle that they were struggling with being in their way and then it felt like it was totally forgotten to even be one at the end by CC

Idk like I’d love to think they just lived in a world where homophobia didn’t exist but it felt like homophobia was a plot point when CC wanted it to be an inconvenience and then suddenly disappeared just to make her writing easier the moment she didn’t want it there anymore instead of actually addressing the plots she raised with it if that makes sense?

And sorry, I really did not mean to go on a rant this long. And maybe everyone else had a very different reading experience than I did and other people don’t agree with some or all of this. I personally am just very confused about how the book was almost 800 pages long and it felt like so much of the development in it was us abruptly being told that development had happened rather than actually getting to see it and how so many of the issues were abruptly solved in an I don’t want to write this issue anymore kind of way rather than anything actually needing to be worked at outside of the Belial situation

Edit: You know what, I mentioned it in my tags but I feel like it’s annoying enough to put in the body of the post and make it even longer. What the fuck was with everyone outing or potentially outing everyone else just so that characters could openly talk about the queer characters and tell them to do what they want them to? Why did Matthew out his brother multiple times? Like yes, the people he said it to coincidentally already knew, but he didn’t know that. And why was Thomas outing Alastair? The straights got to keep their secrets as long as they wanted and fix their problems more naturally. Why did I have to sit through queer characters constantly having their sexualities and romantic histories to everyone else when they clearly had not okayed it? Why were the queer characters doing so much of the outing? Why were people who cared about them and knew what it felt like to be afraid of the wrong person finding out just broadcasting their sexualities to make it easier for CC to breeze past development to have their things get resolved fast? Why did no character have an issue with it at all?

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

“So, how was your day?”

The words bring a smirk to Alec’s face but he hides it anyways.

He’s been waiting for this.

For Magnus to come to him.

He looks up from his laptop and smiles.

“Yes. Are you ready to talk about what’s been bothering you since the past few weeks.”

Magnus feigns innocence at that.

“What? No. Nothing’s been bothering me.”

Alec lets out a chuckle at that. “Baby. You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“It’s the face you make when you want to talk about something but you don’t because you think it might hurt my feelings.” Alec replies easily.

Magnus shouldn’t be surprised by how well Alec knows him by now but some days it still catches him off guard.

It’s quite annoying.

And his husband is right, there’s been something bothering him but Magnus doesn’t know how to start the conversation.

Alec shuts down his laptop and walks towards the kitchen.

He comes back a few minutes later and hands a cup of tea to him and then places a soft kiss on his head.

“I’ll be in the balcony if you need me.”

Magnus’s heart softenes at the gesture.

Alec is opening a window for him—he can either open it and let some air in. Let whatever’s bothering him out in the air.

Or he can close it back too and keep it that way for another few days.

Either option would work for Alec because that’s how he is.

Never pushing Magnus to do things—just always, encouraging him. With love and tenderness.

He mulls over his thoughts for another few minutes before picking up his cup and joining Alec in the balcony.

His back is towards Magnus and he’s leaning against the railing, relaxing in the few moments of peace that they barely get these days.

“What do you think about Idris?“

Alec turns towards him and there’s genuine confusion on his face.

“Idris?”

“Yes. You know Idris and Alicante.” Magnus asks nonchalantly and lounges on the couch in the balcony.

“Whatever’s been bothering you for all this time was related to my thoughts on Idris?” Alec’s lips curls upwards.

He doesn’t gets fazed by Magnus’s incomprehensible thoughts anymore. He could ask Alec the weirdest, most concerning questions at 3 am and his husband would not think anything of it in the slightest.

“Not just you but, Alicante in general. Now that the issue of Clave in exile has been fixed and there’s no more split and you’re the Consul-Consul.”

Alec narrows his eyes at the question, and Magnus knows he’s trying to figure out what the reasoning behind this conversation is.

He humours Magnus nonetheless.

Alec moves towards him and sits on the opposite end but he stretches his legs and places them in Magnus’s lap.

“The past few years have been so stressful Magnus. There were so many moments where I almost wanted to give up.” Alec exhales.

Magnus strokes his thumb against Alec’s ankle in a relaxing motion. He knows firsthand how difficult all of this has been for Alec.

Which is why Magnus hates for what he’s been feeling—for ruining Alec’s victory.

“But you did it, my love. And I am so incredibly proud of you Alexander.” Magnus lifts Alec’s hand and kisses it softly, making the other man blush at the gesture.

He doesn’t want a day to come when Alec stops blushing like that.

“Thank you. I couldn’t have made any of that possible without you. You make me brave.” Alec says tenderly.

Magnus drops his gaze at that. “The boys are excited to go to Idris for the ceremony.”

Alec has a beautiful smile at that. “Yes. I’m so excited to show them around. They have only heard about Alicante in all these years but now they’ll be able to see it.”

He hums at that and doesn’t say anything for quite some time. Then he feels Alec’s fingers lifting his chin upwards, a small frown on his face.

“Baby. What’s going on?”

“I love you. You know that right?” Magnus asks him because he wants Alec to be sure of it before he says what he plans to.

“If I wasn’t as secure in our relationship as I am, I’d be worried this was a breakup conversation.” Alec says jokingly

Magnus rolls his eyes at him.

“Please. If I was breaking up with you, it would be iconic and extremely dramatic.”

Alec grins at that. “Yes, I do remember one fine night like that, almost a decade ago in a subway tunnel.”

Magnus throws Alec’s legs from his lap and smacks his shoulders. “Not funny.”

His husband lets out a laugh and leans closer towards him.

“Okay now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s going on.”

Magnus takes a deep breath.

“I don’t want to go to Alicante.”

Alec frowns at that.

“For the ceremony?”

Magnus shakes his head at that. “The ceremony is for you, I wouldn’t dream of missing it. I want to hold your hand and kiss you when everyone’s celebrating this but—“

“But what?”

“The Consul of the Clave lives in Alicante.”

Alec nods at that.

“Alexander, I’ll come for the ceremony. This one and the next hundred ones but I can’t—“

“You don’t want to live in Alicante.” Alec finishes his sentence.

Magnus nods. “Yes.”

He’s waiting for an awkward silence but it never comes.

Alec answers instantly. “Okay.”

Magnus lifts his head up at that. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

It seems easy but Magnus doesn’t like easy things so he pushes.

“Darling, you don’t have to be okay with this. You can be mad at me if you want.” Magnus adds, even though he would absolutely hate it if Alec was mad at him about this.

“Do I look mad to you?”

He blinks and peers at the shadowhunter properly.

He doesn’t look mad.

He looks like—well he looks like Alec always does.

Calm and steady and soft.

“You’re not mad that I don’t want to live in Alicante with you.” He narrows his eyes.

Alec gives him a small smile at that. “Is there someone else you’re planning to live in Alicante with?”

Magnus shakes his head frantically at that.

“Then I’m not the problem. Alicante is, right?” Alec says simply.

He says it so simply, and maybe it was that simple. Magnus doesn’t want to live in Alicante and it has nothing to do with Alec.

“Baby, I always knew you wouldn’t want to live in Idris.” Alec tucks a strand on stray hair behind his ears gently and pulls Magnus closer to him.

“You did?” He asks. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Alec huffs at that. “Well you didn’t either. It wasn’t a problem back when the Clave was in exile.”

Magnus puts a hand on the back of Alec’s neck.

“But it’s different now, right? Now, you have the chance to live in the angel city. It’s every shadowhunters’ dream.”

He has lived long enough to know how supreme importance the shadowhunter race gives to Alicante.

It’s where everyone dreams of working—of living.

It feels wrong to steal that dream from Alec.

Alec holds his face in his hands and brings their noses together. “A city where my Magnus doesn’t feel safe and happy isn’t a place I ever want to live in.”

Magnus sighs and relaxes into Alec’s hold. “I know things are changing now and getting better. But there’s still a long history of hate that I have faced myself. I wouldn’t be happy there. I wouldn’t feel the boys are ever safe there—specially Max.”

He believes that he would do anything to make Alec happy but there are some lines that Magnus would never cross—even for love.

Even for Alec.

Or he would lose himself completely.

“Hey.”

Magnus opens his eyes and finds himself getting lost in Alec’s gorgeous face.

“I know the man I love. You stand for what’s right and wrong, no matter what. You wouldn’t marry me unless the law was changed and I knew even then that it wasn’t about me.” Alec says tenderly and kisses his cheeks. “Just because you married a shadowhunter, doesn’t mean you have to forget who you are.”

“You always know the right things to say, don’t you?” Magnus points out fondly, because he’s feeling a little too overwhelmed by how much Alec sees him.

“I’m just being honest baby.” Alec remarks and Magnus pulls him against him so that Alec is straddling his thighs.

“You don’t think it’ll be an issue right?” He asks because he doesn’t want his husband to deal with anymore difficulties.

He knows that it’s impossible.

Shadowhunters invited trouble.

But he could try.

Alec rubs his shoulders gently. “It’s not mandatory for Consuls to live in Idris.” His husband replies. “And if it is, I’ll deal with it. In case you missed it, I’ve always been kind of a rebel you know? Kissing a downworlder publicly is still considered the biggest clave scandal.”

A peal of laughter leaves Magnus’s body at his words.

“Are you okay now?”

Magnus nods slightly. It was impossible not to be okay when he was around Alec.

His hand moves inside Alec’s shirt and he runs a hand across his back gently.

“Does it ever get tiring?”

“What does?”

“Waiting for me to come to you. When I get much too into my head?”

Alec leans forward and kisses Magnus’s temple. “It’s quite annoying. But you’re plenty cute too, so it kind of compensates.”

Magnus shakes his head affectionately at the idiotic man infront of him.

He strokes Alec’s face and traces a finger across his face, making the shadowhunter blush profusely.

“I forgot for a second.”

“What?”

“That my home is so much more beautiful than any angel city.” Magnus whispers in the small space between the two of them.

Alec’s lips curls upwards at that.

A bashful smile on his face and Magnus falls in love with him all over again.

“You talking about Brooklyn?”

Magnus mirrors his smile because they both knew his following words already.

“I’m talking about you.”

Prompt: Brooklyn

I don’t see Magnus ever living in Idris no matter what.

@malectober

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Paul Preaches in Athens

16 While Paul waited for them at Athens, his spirit was moved in him to see the city given to worshipping of images. 17 Then he disputed in the synagogue with the jews, and with the devout persons, And in the market daily with them that came unto him. 18 Certain Philosophers of the Epicures, and of the Stoyckes disputed with him. And some there were which said: what will this babbler say. Other said: he seemeth to be a tidings bringer of new devils, because he preached unto them Iesus, and the resurrection, 19 and they took him, and brought him into Marce street saying: may we not know what is this new doctrine whereof thou speakest. 20 For thou bringest strange tidings to our ears. We would know therefore what these things mean. 21 For all the Athenians and strangers which were there gave themselves to nothing else, but either to tell or to hear new tidings.

22 Paul stood in the midst of Marce street and said, ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are somewhat superstitious. 23 For as I passed by and beheld the manner how ye worship your goddes, I found an altar wherein was written: unto the unknown God. Whom ye then ignorantly worship, him shew I unto you: 24 God that made the world, and all that are in it, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, he dwelleth not in temples made with hands 25 neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed of any thing. Forasmuch as he giveth to all men life and breath every where, 26 and hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth. And hath assigned times appointed before, And the ends of their inhabitation, 27 that they should seek God, if they might feel and find him, though he be not far from every one of us. 28 For in him we live, move, and have our being, as certain of your own poets said. For we are also his generation. 29 Forasmuch then as we are the generation of God, we ought not to think that the godhead is like unto gold, silver, or stone, graven by craft and imagination of man. 30 And the time of this ignorance God regarded not: but now he biddeth all men everywhere repent, 31 because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world according to righteousness, by that man, whom he hath appointed, and hath given faith to all men, after that he had raised him from death.

32 When they heard of the resurrection from death, some mocked, and other said: we will hear thee again of this matter. 33 So Paul departed from among them. 34 Certain men clave unto Paul and believed, among the which was Dionysius a senator, and a woman named Damaris, and other with them. — Acts 17:16-34 | Tyndale New Testament (TYN) Holy Bible, Tyndale New Testament (written in olde English), copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 1:1; Deuteronomy 4:7; Deuteronomy 10:14; Deuteronomy 30:20; Deuteronomy 32:8; 2 Kings 19:18; Job 12:10; Job 12:23; Job 22:2; Psalm 9:8; Psalm 96:13; Isaiah 40:18; Isaiah 45:4; Jeremiah 23:23; Jeremiah 38:16; Mark 1:27; Luke 24:47; John 4:22; Acts 2:10; Acts 4:2; Acts 5:42; Acts 9:20; Acts 13:43; Acts 14:16; Acts 17:15; Acts 18:1; Acts 23:19; Acts 25:19; 1 Corinthians 15:12

[x-ceirios-x]

City of Lost Souls, Chapter 18: Raziel

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

Simon stood up from his place resting in the grass and brushed off his jeans, then led the way down to the wandering path through the orchard. As he and Rowan neared it, Simon could see the old dock sticking out into the water, where he, Clary, and Luke had once tied up kayaks before a big piece of the dock had broken off and drifted away. He thought he could almost hear the lazy hum of bees and feel the weight of summer on his shoulders. As they reached the lake’s edge, he twisted around and looked up at the farmhouse, white-painted clapboard with green shutters and an old covered sun porch with tired white-wicker furniture on it. 

“I can tell you liked it here,” they said carefully. They hadn’t spoken to him since the car ride, other than to tell him it was time. Magnus was prepared to raise an angel. 

“Can you?” 

“Your expression,” they said. “You look happy. Like this was a happy place for you.”

“It was. It is,” Simon said. He reached up to push his glasses up his nose, remembered he no longer wore them, and lowered his hand. “I was lucky.”

They looked down at the lake. Their hair was getting longer, he noticed, longer than it was when they first met. A single, loose curl hung to the side of their hair, refusing to follow the path everything else did. It tangled in their earring, a bar that cut straight across the top of their ear. He wanted to reach over and fix it for them, to put it carefully back in place. 

“Hey,” he said suddenly, cutting through the silence. He took a step forward to stand next to them. “About the conversation in the car—”

“Now’s not the time—”

“It’s never the time,” he said, more desperation in his voice than he would have liked. He consciously took a breath to steady himself, a habit he didn’t need as a vampire but never broke. “Let me say this. Please.”

They turned, albeit slowly, towards him and said nothing. This was the time he’d been waiting for. Weeks of waiting, wondering, hoping they would feel the same way…

“In case I don't make it out of this—”

“Don’t talk like that.” 

“Listen, Rowan. Please,” he said. He grabbed their hands and held them tight. “I know you. I know you’re strong, you’re capable, and you’re everything that Team Good needs to work our way out of this. And I know that the opinion of a few arrogant Clave people, or even your family—it’s not going to stop you from being exactly who you are.”

They stared blankly at him, their eyebrows raised in surprise. He had so much more he wanted to say, he needed to say, but the words died on his tongue. I like who you are, he wanted to say. You deserve so much more than I can give you, than what the world can give you, but I hope it’s enough for you.

“You’re coming back,” they said, giving little acknowledgement to what he said, though he knew they heard it. “I know you’re coming back to me.”

“Rowan, I–” he hesitated. It was now or never. “I lo–”

“All right,” Magnus called out. “I’m done. Simon, over here.”

They turned. Simon was standing inside the circle, which was glowing with a faint white light. It was really two circles, a slightly smaller one inside a larger one, and in the space between the circles, a dozen symbols had been scrawled. They, too, glowned, a steely blue-white like the reflection off the lake. 

Simon heard Rowan’s soft intake of breath, and he stepped away before he could look at them. It would make it all harder. He could have stayed, finished the words he’d been dying to tell them, but he couldn’t. His focus, and confidence, had to go towards this or he’d never survive.  

He moved forward, over the border of the circle, into its center, beside Magnus. Looking out from the center of the circle was like looking through water. The rest of the world seemed wavering and indistinct. 

“Here.” Magnus shoved the book into his hands. The paper was thin, covered in scrawled runes, but Magnus had taped a printout of the words, spelled out phonetically, over the incantation itself. “Just sound these out,” he muttered. “It should work.”

Holding the book against his chest, Simon slipped off the gold ring that connected him to Clary, and handed it to Magnus. “If it doesn’t,” he said, wondering where his strange calm was coming from, “someone should take this. It’s our only link to Clary, and what she knows.”

Magnus nodded and slid the ring onto his finger. “Ready, Simon?”

“Hey,” said Simon. “You remembered my name.”

Magnus shot him an unreadable glance from his green-gold eyes, and stepped outside the circle. Immediately he was blurry and indistinct too. Alec joined him on one side, Rowan on the other; Rowan was fidgeting with their ring, and even through wavering air Simon could tell how unhappy they looked. 

Simon cleared his throat. “I guess you guys had better go.”

But they didn’t move. They seemed to be waiting for him to say something else.”

“Thanks for coming here with me,” he said finally, having racked his brain for something meaningful to say; they seemed to be expecting it. He wasn’t the sort who made big farewell speeches or big, dramatic good-byes. He looked at Alec first. “Um, Alec. I always liked you better than I liked Jace.” He turned to Magnus. “Magnus, I wish I had the nerve to wear the kind of pants you do.”

And last, Rowan. He would see them watching him through the haze, their eyes partially covered by a sheet of dark, curly hair hanging over their forehead. 

“Rowan,” said Simon. He looked at them. He saw the questioning in their eyes, but there seemed nothing he could say in front of Alec and Magnus, nothing that would encompass what he felt. He knew what he wanted to say earlier, what he’d wanted to say for a long time. I love you.

He moved back, towards the center of the circle, bowing his head. “Good-bye, I guess.”

He thought they spoke back to him, but the wavering haze between them blurred their words.he watched as they turned, retreating up the path through the orchard, back towards the house, until they had become dark specks. Until he could no longer see them at all. 

He couldn’t quite fathom not talking to Clary one last time before he died—he couldn’t even remember the last words they’d exchanged. And yet if he closed his eyes, he could hear her laughter drifting over the orchard; he could remember what it had been like, before they had grown up and everything had changed. If he died here, perhaps it would be appropriate. Some of his best memories were here after all. If the angel struck him down with fire, his ashes could sit through the apple orchard and over the lake.Something about the idea seemed peaceful. 

He thought of Rowan. Then of his family—his mother, his father, and Becky. Clary, he thought lastly. Wherever you are, you're my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend.

He raised the spell book and began to chant. 

[khaleesiofalicante]

what is it between madeline and alec that is so different aside fro trauma with her husband, or that he is gay and married a warlock that makes such a difference in the support they get from council and thier own people that madeline gets amazing support contrary to the whole of alec's career ( i am saying support in a whole view ) in regards to thier political ways

This is a very good question.

I think, to put it simply, it really is about bigotry. When we read tsc we often only read it from the perspective of the heroes. Even when we read about the bigoted shit people say (like Zara or Tatiana) we only see the insults they make and cruel things they do, but we never really see the thinking behind it. We don't see why they act and do and say the things they do.

This is why writing perspectives of characters like Kyle and Victoria was so interesting for me.

Because I think majority of the shadowhunters (at least in Alec and Rafael's generation) are very much bigoted. You don't see that much in the new people. They either ignorant or angry or stupid, but not bigoted per se (like with gen z - some of the things they say are dumb but their heart is in the right place).

So, yes. I do think the reason why Alec didn't get as much as support he did from the Council is because he is gay + married to a warlock. It's nothing aside that. It's that.

I've seen so many politicians irl who are so good (in terms of their values and strategies) but get sidelines simply because they are a minority in some way.

There is a scene in one of the tsc books (I think it's in gotsm) where you see some downworlders refer to Alec as "our consul" even though he is Consul of the Clave, not the shadow world. You see downworlders celebrating Alec's appointment as Consul.

But you don't see that among nephilim (apart from his friends and supporters). That shows the bigotry right there.

I think it's very important to remember that in TDA many people followed Alec out of Idris not because they supported Alec but because they didn't want to support Zara (like voting for Biden because you didn't want to vote for Trump).

I personally think the same applies, a little bit, to Rafael because of the Lightwood-Bane name. It's a little different now (with Rafe's generation) because you don't see much bigotry towards Achilles, even though he is trans. But you saw it a lot when both Rafe and the rest of the lbaf gang was younger - where they went through so much shit because of the Clave, no one else.

What I'm looking forward to exploring in LBAF 6 and 7 is exactly this generational change. Because we know it's been coming slowly. Whether it was Valentine's circle (misguided - but still a revolution that stood up to the government, then to Alec's generation where people stood up for their sexuality and freedom, Emma's generation where they stood up for the seelies, etc.

You see little by little people changing slowly where each generation is a little more progressive than the former. If Alec had existed in two generations after Lance's, someone like him wouldn't have had much resistance from the Clave/Council.

PS - This does not mean growth is linear. Remember how good things were with Charlotte Fairchild and then we ended up with the Circle, so, yeah things can go to shit too.

[i-have-not-slept]

Malectober Day 11: Coffee

He lifted his head from the pillow he was clutching and then realized what he was doing: searching the air for a trace of the smell of coffee. It had happened a few times in the last several weeks, Magnus stumbling out into the kitchen toward the rich scent of coffee, pulling on a robe from his wide and varied selection, and finding Alec there….Alec seemed to feel a sense of comfort around the machine that he felt about nothing else, making coffee without asking if he could, bringing Magnus a cup when he was working.

Every time Alec had dropped by—or in the mornings after Alec had fallen asleep there—Magnus had woken to the sounds and smells of Alec's making him coffee, even though Alec knew that Magnus could magic coffee out of the air.

— “What To Buy The Shadowhunter Who Has Everything”

Magnus had become used to Alec making him coffee in the very early days of their relationship. When they had only just started dating, Alec was very careful of everything in the loft, barely touching anything like he was afraid he might break it. But the coffeemaker was different. Maybe because it was something Alec could do for Magnus, because Magnus had noted, even in those early days, that Alec always put other people before himself. Whatever the reason, Alec had quickly fallen into the habit of making coffee for Magnus when he was over at the loft. Even before anyone else knew they were dating, Magnus had become used to it, this simple and domestic act. 

To this day, Alec took every opportunity he could to make coffee for Magnus. He tended to wake earlier than Magnus, as a result of Shadowhunter training, and therefore making coffee had become his designated job. On the mornings when Alec had to leave early for work, Magnus would wake up to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. Often there would be a little note from Alec tucked under the cup, saying something like, I love you, or Have a good day. On the days when Alec didn’t have to leave so early, he would wake Magnus with a kiss on the forehead before pressing the hot mug into his hands. Alec made Magnus’s coffee just the way he liked it, with milk and honey, even though he complained that it was “disgustingly sweet.” 

“Just like you.” Magnus would tell him, and then he’d have to kiss away the blush from Alec’s cheeks. 

Today, however, it was Magnus’s turn to be making coffee. Alec was on the couch in the living room, reading through a Clave report, his brow furrowed. He looked tired, even though it was only early afternoon. Magnus saw the exhaustion on his husband’s face and went to the kitchen. He could see into the living room from there, and he caught the small upwards turn of Alec’s mouth when he heard the coffeemaker start up. Magnus hunted through the kitchen cabinets and found the personalised mug he’d given Alec, the one with WORLD’S BEST CONSUL on it. For himself, Magnus chose a shimmery purple mug, and filled both with the rich dark liquid. He added sugar to Alec’s, honey and milk to his own, and carried them back to the living room. Rafe and Max were playing on the carpet, industriously building a city of blocks for their toy trains. Alec was still reading, his dark hair falling in his eyes. Magnus leaned over to brush it away, before offering the mug of coffee to Alec. Alec took it with a grateful smile, shifting over on the couch so Magnus could sit beside him. He took a sip of coffee, and Magnus saw how his eyes instantly brightened and he sat up straighter. 

“That’s supposed to be my job, you know.” Alec said, indicating the coffee mugs. 

Magnus snuggled against Alec’s side. “You seemed to be busy.” He felt a rumble of laughter go through Alec’s chest as he turned back to the Clave reports. Magnus leaned against him, watching their children play. He clutched the mug, and felt the heat of it go through him, strengthening his body and warming his heart.