#i wish iz had been there so he could report back to him

[gumnut-logic]

The Awards (Part 1)

This is @womble1 's fault :D Writing all that Sweetapple while I floundered around without a muse.

It's a new one. Not intended to be hugely long or anything, maybe two or three parts (since when have I had control of these things?) But it is Sweetapple and a scene requested by some of you who read the first Sweetapple Talk. So here you have it :D I hope it lives up to expectations.

This is m/m fic. If this isn't your thing, this isn't your fic. Alexander Sweetapple is an original character that was prompted by @flyboytracy , created by me, and then let loose in Thunderfam to evolve into who he is today through several different writers. I don't think Virgil minds, the two of them are a pair of lovey dovey goofballs and the majority of this series is them just being fluffy and goopy sweet :D Many thanks to all who have written, contributed and egged this series on, it wouldn't exist without you.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the read through this morning.

Anyway, bit of fic, first in ages.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

“I still wish we could have flown in with the Tracys.”

His mother’s voice was wistful. It could have been interpreted as callous self-interest, but Alex knew better.

“Mum, Virgil apologised at least six times.”

She held up a hand. “I know, I know, and it’s not their fault.” She smiled softly. “I just know how much you were looking forward to this.”

He rolled his eyes as the city of Gisborne flashed past the car’s windows. The Tracys had sent them a chauffeured limousine, along with a security guard, currently staring at them cooly in the seat across from them.

She was an interesting choice. She appeared to have only half her hair and what was left was an assortment of colours enough to excite Erica. The tattoos and piercings…yeah, Iz and Erica would get on fine.

Yet again, he wished Erica was with him. But the venue was only so big and Alex’s mother was…his mother.

Erica and his sisters were watching the live stream apparently.

That didn’t make him nervous. No, not in the slightest.

There were going to be screenshots and clips galore in his future.

A touch to his cheek. “He’s going to be okay.”

Mum was looking up at him with a tenderness in her eyes.

“I know.”

Stupid volcano had to erupt today, didn’t it.

A sigh. The logic centre of his brain acknowledged that this was all part and parcel of dating a Thunderbird and that he would have to get used to it. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that Sumatra needed him more than Alex did.

Way to compete with the rest of the world for your boyfriend’s attention.

Boyfriend.

Despite everything, the whole concept, as always, brought a smile to his face.

Virgil would be here as soon as he could.

And Alex would love whatever parts of Virgil the world could share with him.

“I’m okay.” He shared his smile with his mum.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The car drew to a stop in a line of vehicles in front of the War Memorial Theatre. The structure, like everything in Gisborne, was showing the remains of repairs. Most of the glass had been replaced, but there was a section still boarded up on one side. But unlike the rest of the city, this piece had been turned into an artwork. It showed an artistic rendering of Gisborne’s skyline, and amongst the buildings flew Thunderbirds.

There were no words on the piece, but it screamed pride and gratitude.

God, he wished Virgil was here.

The car moved forward into a crowd of people. Reporters babbled and holocams hovered as if it was the Academy Awards or something. Police stood solidly, manning the barricade keeping the press back.

Alex swallowed. They weren’t here for him. The Prime Minister was attending. And so was International Rescue.

He was only Virgil’s boyfriend.

He swallowed again.

Social media was still buzzing about the kiss. It had died down, a lot, but chances were that these people knew who he was.

Kayo had warned him of this possibility. This was why Iz was with them in the car. She was part of Kayo’s team and Alex had no doubt she knew how to do her job.

She was almost as scary as Kayo herself.

When the car finally stopped, Iz held up her hand. “I will exit first. You are to follow when I say so.”

Alex’s eyes were a little wide, but he nodded. Yes, ma’am.

His mum squeezed his arm.

The door opened and noise rushed in along with flashing cameras and the buzz of holocams. Iz climbed out of the car fluidly, six inch heels and clinging black dress, no hindrance.

A moment later, her hand signalled that they follow.

Alex ushered his mother out of the car. She may have stepped out less smoothly than the security guard, but no less elegantly. She looked amazing in her deep burgundy evening dress. His mum had gone all out for tonight, hair curled, dress purchased, she even dragged out the necklace his dad had bought her for their last wedding anniversary.

Dad would have loved to see her like this.

As if thought could make reality, a large hand appeared just outside the door, offering to help his mother from car.

Alex blinked.

Frowned.

And, as he followed his mother out, realised that the hand belonged to none other than the tall and domineering figure of Mr Jeff Tracy. Dressed in an elegant silver suit, he was smiling down at Alex’s mother, grey eyes twinkling.

Alex’s eyes widened as the cameras and reporters went absolutely nuts.

“Mr Tracy! Are you dating again?”

“How long have you been together?!”

“Ma’am, how long have you known Jeff?”

Alex straightened his tuxedo, still standing on the gutter.

Mr Tracy was addressing the crowd, a suave smile on his face and Alex’s mother’s hand on his arm.

Okay.

Kayo appeared beside them in a short, satin green evening dress, her eyes all business and, no doubt, her six inch heels just as deadly. She stood next to Mr Jeff Tracy. A glance in Alex’s direction came with a small smile before she turned back to the paparazzi.

Iz touched his arm. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

“But mum-“

“The Chief’s got this.” She looped her arm in his. “C’mon.”

He was walked up the red carpet before he could protest further.

It was quieter inside the foyer, but that was a relative statement. The hall was large, but very full of people, all dressed to the nines.

Iz’s eyes were everywhere and she did not leave his side, navigating him through the crowd.

Alex glanced back towards the entrance, still worried about him mum.

Consequently, when the roar outside swelled beyond human capability and into rocket territory, he was able to catch sight of the silver body of Thunderbird One, lit up by holocam lights, as she touched down on the street outside.

The crowd swarmed back towards the entrance, taking Alex and Iz with it.

But the Thunderbird was only on the street for bare moments before launching up into the sky and disappearing, leaving chaos in its wake.

Beside him, Iz swore under her breath. “The Chief’s going to kill them for that.”

The spark of hope that went beyond the innate thrill of seeing the primary Thunderbird swelled in Alex’s chest…and burst into flame as Virgil Tracy, dressed head to toe in an immaculate black-tie tuxedo, hurried into the building.

His suit cut a beautiful line on his fit frame and Alex couldn’t help but stare, open mouthed, as his boyfriend caught sight of him and strode over. “Alex! I am so sorry.”

Alex was still staring.

“Alex?”

Now Virgil was closer, and fiddling with his suit as if it wasn’t sitting correctly, Alex could see that it had been put on in a hurry. Virgil’s hair lacked its usual perfection, attended to, yes, but obviously rushed, and there was a smear of dirt on his ear.

Alex reached up and gently smudged it off with his thumb.

Virgil was staring up at him and frowning, his eyes darted to Iz. “Everything okay?”

A small smile forced its way onto Alex’s lips. “Yeah.” And as he was want to do after every rescue, he drew Virgil in for a hug. A whisper into his ear. “Thank you for coming.”

“Sorry I was late.” Virgil pulled away, still frowning. “Did I miss anything?”

Like a switch was flipped, Alex relaxed. “Oh, only our parents escorting each other on the red carpet.”

“What?”

Of course, that statement demanded the culprits make an immediate appearance. Alex’s mum and Mr Jeff Tracy appeared out of the crowd. Her arm was still linked in his and Alex eyed it suspiciously.

He wasn’t the only one. Mr Scott Tracy, equally dressed in a suit, hair perfect as always, and standing beside his father, was eyeing him with a raised eyebrow.

Jeff played it innocent. “What?”

His mother giggled.

She giggled.

Like a teenage girl on a bus.

Oh, god.

Fortunately or not, that was the moment the crowd began moving into the theatre. Virgil had a suspicious smile on his face, but that smile soon turned towards Alex as he offered him his arm.

Alex took it and all the advantage of pulling his boyfriend in close as they filed into the theatre.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[dzpenumbra]

1/19/23

Cat's fussy tonight. She's getting a bit spoiled with me running the faucet for her so she can drink it. She was very spoiled with that for a long time, and I learned the hard way that leaving a faucet slowly running 24/7 is... not great for a faucet. But she just really seems to like it. I've had a project in the back of my mind for both of us for a while now, I just don't know how I'm going to pull it off. First thought was, "I need to get her a fountain," which of course branches into, "I need to make her a fountain," which goes to, "I need to make us a fountain." And then I go... "wait, I could make like... an actual running stream. Like a natural stream of running water with a pump on it... built into a table. Like a mini zen garden kinda thing, built into a big deep table, with an actual river running through it, maybe even a waterfall for her to drink from." And then it goes to, "holy shit, I can even make the whole thing from completely natural materials, and have like... living moss growing in it, real plants. Not just stone and sand, but like... soil and plants."

I get so excited when I can see these projects so vividly! And I really will commit to finishing a project like that. I just... immediately consider my current list of projects, which is... 11 long? And that's just the repeatable ones, there are more on the one-off list. And it just... feels like other projects should get center stage. Like getting furniture for my house. Like making the two necklaces I've been putting off for like... weeks. Like making music. Like designing the new mahogany coat hanger rack. The list keeps going. And I just... ugh, I just wish I had company, honestly. An extra set of hands to pull a few all-nighters, listen to some great music and crank out like 5 of these awesome projects.

I thought streaming was going to be this. And I'll tell you exactly why it isn't. It may not be what you think. Take a look at what I'm looking for up above - company to listen to music and either make art with me or keep me company while I do it. And guess why that doesn't work. Hmm... I wonder.

Let me get this "pseudo-political" rant out of the way, because it very clearly has been crippling me for a while, and drove me down a very dark path to try to avoid it. I, as a creator, do not want any fucking trouble. I just want to make my things, and share my ideas, and if you don't like them, you can change the channel. It's not that hard. But there has been a steady push to whitewash and family-friendly-ize all streaming platforms over the past... well, majority of a decade now. It was not always like this. And I guarantee what happened is that cable TV started dying, so people who used to work for cable TV came over to streaming platforms, YT and the like, and... just made cable 2.0. Who needs an FCC when you have a totalitarian stranglehold over what TV shows stay on the air and what don't. It's a different organism, yet we're still playing by TV's rules. It feels archaic, and it leaves me... creatively anxious. I see it a lot.

How does this affect me, as a broadcaster? The same as my writing. If I swear, which I do frequently, and some bitchy Karen parent in the Bible belt or something reports me for "obscenity", I lose my ability to stream. Not just lose my ability to make money, my channel gets shut down. I lose my ability to maintain an audience, to gain viewers, to grow. If I don't move to a different platform, I can lose momentum entirely. I saw it happen to a somewhat-known comedian I used to Twitch mod for. He got banned for having the word "nipples" in his username. For over a month. He had to go to a personal connection that knew someone at Twitch to get his username manually switched to his actual name, just to be able to stream again. And that did a number on him. Point being, even if you're making a joke, even if you're just speaking your casual language... if you're a smaller (not a Partner, I guess) streamer, you're kinda just shit out of luck if an automated system guns you down. And that anxiety hangs over all our heads every day. Try being creative when, if your joke doesn't land, a robot bans you from that comedy club and every support line is automated. You're just... done. Because one cranky Karen decided she needed to take out her lack of supervising her child on you.

Now, I can even push past that, because I don't really swear that much honestly, and my humor is really not that crude at all, not like it used to be. What gets me now... is music. It's the ass-backwards system the record labels decided to put into place, on their endless automated crusade to remove music from the internet. How ironic is that? The industry devoted to spreading music is now pretty much the exclusive source of music censorship and removal. They are systematically rooting out the spread of music globally, every day. They fucking automated the process too, so they can't even claim they're providing jobs for people here. They are just a vacuum sucking up culture and mulching it, so they can force listeners onto music streaming platforms, where they have a stranglehold on the market.

Now here's a thought I had earlier that I think could solve that whole thing, if they actually gave a fuck about like... music. And personal choice. And all the free fucking exposure they're denying their artists. So... they clearly have bots that can identify songs very quickly, like the whole Shazaam model, right? So... why the fuck are these companies not working directly with streaming sites, and adding in a plugin to the site's functionality where it has a whole "Now Playing" thing provided by the streaming platform, in tandem with the real-time song recognition bots that the record companies have clearly dumped their ill-gotten gains into. So when the streamer is playing a song, any fucking song, a little thing pops up that says "Now Playing" and the name of the artist, and the name of the song. And when you click on that, it brings you directly to a place where you can buy the album, support the artist, see show listings, etc. I'm coming back from my tangent, I swear, buckle up, we're swinging it back around. Why the fuck wouldn't they invest in that?! That way, streamers are - automatically, and without the need for compensation - promoting music that they love, sharing it with a potentially new audience. It's free fucking publicity. And then, the streamers don't have to look over their goddamn shoulders for LawyerBot3000 swooping in and trying to demonetize their videos, automatically mute their VoDs and risk getting their channel struck. And... here it is, I'm connecting the dots... then streamers don't have to do 6 hour art streams listening to generic copyright free elevator music.

No one should be subjected to that, that's like a form of corporal punishment. Not streamers (who are unpaid employees, but I'm not gonna get into that). Not the audience (who are paying customers... well... some of them). No one. No one should be required to play "state-approved music". That's like... fascist shit. It's fucked up. But the people with the big pockets and aggressive lawyers won. And that's the world we live in. So... that's the primary reason why I dread going back to streaming. Because if I stream my art and listen to good music, which is all I want to do... I risk getting my channel shut down. As though listening to Mars Volta, making beaded necklaces and talking to my audience is... illegal. As though it's... stealing from someone? As though it is an act that is worthy of punishment. Worthy of revoking the "privilege of a workspace", the "privilege of access to an audience". This has always struck me as... "shoot first, ask questions never", draconian, fearful, shortsighted and, most of all, not even remotely in the interest of preserving creative expression.

So... I don't know what to do now. It's deeply upsetting. Because I've really tried for a long time to do marathon streams with either no music (nearly impossible) or generic music (I literally start falling asleep and have to end stream). It just doesn't work. And all I want to do is like... put on good music, make my art, and share with people the music that I love. That was where my creative spark was born. In the living rooms of friends of mine, drawing in my sketchbook and sharing music. "I show you Atreyu, you show me Radiohead." "I show you Method Man, you show me Gojira." And later, in the studios in college, plugging the iPod into speakers, putting on a pot of coffee and painting while lying down on the floor with an endless playlist all night. Tool, Mars Volta, Tides of Man, Coheed and Cambria, The Syncope Threshold, Circa Survive, Between the Buried and Me, the list just goes on and on. I introduced so many bands to friends of mine that way, and vice versa. That's how I found The Sound of Animals Fighting, Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive, SiKTh, After the Burial (one of my favorite bands of all time), the Dear Hunter, etc. etc. And now, when I watch streams - which is like... the only social interaction I have... the only music they play is the same generic copyright free muzak I listen to when I go to sleep. Or nothing at all.

It kills the exchange of music. Which is sad. Why? Money. So yeah, that blows.

I don't want to sit on this all night, I've been going for a while here, I had a big point I wanted to cover.

I dug into all that because of the whole... social thing. Social anxiety has been plaguing me for a while... and I explored that in therapy today. And it's really jostling how... quick your... ugh, I'm struggling for words... control? Need to control things? To make them perfect? In gaming, we call it min-maxing. The need to optimize, to make things the best they can be. Minimum loss, maximum gain. It's crazy how quickly and stealthily that can sneak up. And it embarrasses me sometimes, because I'm always priding myself in my spontaneity and improvisation. Well, that might be the spontaneity of... Past Me, at this point. Winters are notoriously rough for me, and being in moments of recovering from acute trauma (seems like that's the majority of the time the past few years...) as well. They do tend to make depression skyrocket. Then I get into anxious mode. And anxiety's job is to... protect, right? To keep safe? It's an alarm system to keep me notified of threats around me.

And how do I respond to that alarm system? Well, the healthy way would be... not to ignore the smoke alarm... not to assume the entire house is burning down... but to pop your head in and check, gather information. So when I'm getting into social anxiety, I'm noticing that the majority of it is kinda... bookended on either side of the interaction. Kinda like stagefright has been for me - I get super anxious before I get on stage, and I kick myself about how I "could've done better" after. But during, it's really not a huge issue. Which I think is really a blessing, it has not always been that way. But once I find the Flow, it gets really easy. Because like... I'm weird, right? So how can I fuck up "weird"? XD

Welp, min-max brain has a few things to say about that. And that's the anxiety component. "How can I maximize my odds of meeting someone who isn't a complete sociopath?", "How can I make my next social interaction easier for me, considering I've been 'out of the game' for a while?", "How can I get help from others to 'hold my hand'?" That's all preemptive, predictive shit - that's Future. That's like... neurotic scrying. <crystal ball mystic voice> "I seeee the fuuuuture, I see that I will meet someone who will be suuuuper controooolling and when I try to set healthy boundaries by asking for what I want/need politely and saying no when they cross a line they will attaaaack meeeee." </crystal ball mystic voice> And my manifestation of that thought is... "how can I prevent this certainty?" "What plan can I come up with now, to give me a safety net, or at least armor, for when this undoubtedly happens."

Now... I get why I do this. This is a very recurring trauma, it happens all the time. And it's something I really do need to work on. But like... this way of addressing it... by sitting on the bench and trying to come up with the perfect plan or something? It clearly doesn't work. And it inflates the fuck out of my anxiety. It builds up the anticipation. And what I really feel like I need to do instead, is learn how to properly recognize it in the moment when it's happening... (which it will, just probably not as often as my anxiety thinks) and I'm pretty sure I can... and then... excuse myself. Just go, "oh shit, I something came up, I gotta go." It's not a lie. What came up is "I'm not safe right now" and telling that person why I'm not safe? That puts me in danger, it provokes the bear. So... I need to remember that I always have that option in my pocket, and if the other person is really committed to reflecting on their actions and addressing that moment, I can make myself available to provide my perspective so they can work on their own shit. But I am really bad at walking away. So yeah, that's my running plan for the preemptive anxiety.

The other half, as mentioned above, is after. "Wow, I just talked to that person for like 20 minutes, I have no idea what their name is because I never remember that, and I never introduced myself, and they just left... and we didn't exchange info... and... now they're gone. Forever. Okay... Great job, champ." Like... my first week here, actually I think it was my first or second night here. I met a man in the hallways that was like... under 10 years older than me, somewhere in my age range-ish. I was like... bee-lining back to my apartment with my chinese food delivery and he was walking around the building with his two kids. And I like... passed them. And he saw the back of my hoodie - it was a Born of Osiris hoodie that I like... never wear - and he commented on it and told me he went on tour with them doing sound design. I engaged genuinely, and we connected for like 30 seconds and it was nice. And we exchanged names, and he's on the floor above me. And then we said "see you around, I guess" and I haven't seen him since. And that was like... the past 5 connections I've made were really similar. And I'm guessing it's because I haven't been on Facebook since 2016 and connecting with people on social media is just... not a habit of mine? But you know what? Shame on them! They should be more experienced with this shit! That shouldn't fall entirely on my shoulders!

See, my brain tends to go... okay, I'm gonna correct myself... my depression brain tends to go, "wow, dude, you didn't give them your Instagram handle? How are they gonna get in touch? Carrier pigeon? They don't even know what unit you're in!" The paddle immediately comes out. And the intention is self-improvement, the intention is education/learning, but the methodology is brutish. And that, my friends, that is the big fucking lesson of the day. Well, one of two. We'll start with this one. Self-compassion. Being kind and gentle to yourself, through your methods of self-improvement. Teaching your inner critic - "how could you do that?", "what were you thinking?", "you should know better" - to sound less like an outraged driver stuck in rush hour traffic... and more like - "I should try this next time", "I forgot to mention my name, I'll try to remember that next time". Like... learning from an experience rather than trying to 'teach yourself a lesson'.

I have been getting so much better lately at having my kind, gentle inner-voice come out first after things go wrong. Like "wow, I just talked to this dude in the hallway, and it was perfectly natural, that's awesome!" And the road-rager comes in second, "you forgot to say what unit you were in. How are you going to follow up on this? How did you forget that? Missed opportunity, way to blow it." No matter how good a mood I'm in, no matter how well I'm doing mental health wise, that motherfucker lives in my head every moment of every day. And I need to negotiate with him. And, begrudgingly, counter-intuitively, I need to be kind and understanding towards him. Because he's me. He's just my Depression Me. He means well. He has very keen observational skills. He's very passionately defensive. But he, like anxiety (outside of emergencies) is a passenger and consultant, not a driver. If that makes sense. He doesn't call the shots. And maintaining that hierarchy of inner-voices, and practicing that regularly, like every day... that's what's trained my congratulatory, kind, compassionate, gentle voice to come out first. I will say, it's practice that is well worth doing.

I said there were two lessons of the day. The first was addressing the narrative we use in reflecting on events, self-compassion, a focus on learning and growth rather than outrage, frustration, all that shit. The second lesson... has more to do with the temporal aspect.

See, anxiety is very fixated on Future. The 'what ifs' is what my old bandmate and I used to call anxiety. My therapist today called them the "should's" and that's a very interesting addition. Either way, temporally, it's all fixated on the future. It's attempted precognition, predictive thinking. "I saw this in the Past, and I think it's going to happen in the Future, so I should do something about it." Depression is a very different kind of beast. It doesn't really serve a practical purpose other than to just shit on you. Anxiety is very protective, depression is just like a fucking giant ball-and-chain. And depression, it seems to me, but maybe it just conveniently fits into my narrative right now... is pretty Past based. Fixated on what happened, or didn't happen, and... that's it... and "you should feel bad for that." No plan, no lesson, no growth. Just "you tripped, you're clumsy, dumbass." That's all. Real life-of-the-party, that one. So what are we missing here? Hmm?

Now. We're missing Present Mind. And this is the muscle that I am flexing right this very moment. Hi. I am Present Mind. I don't plan what I say, I don't think back to what I was going to say, I just say what I think and it comes out and that's just what it is. It's a stream of thoughts and feelings connected together and put as accurately as possible onto paper... if my damn fingers can keep up with it. I've been practicing stream-of-consciousness writing since age... 16? Something close to that? So... around 20 years. Nearly all of my music lyrics and poetry were written in pen on paper without thinking (or just thinking only about rhyme schemes and letting the words just fall into place) and without crossing out words. My primary form of musical expression is improvisation. And lately, I've been out of practice. Again, this is pretty much my only Flow practice, short of yoga, which has been great.

I need more of it. I need to break through that wall again. I feel so deeply compelled to seek that liberation. To free myself from this need to have things be the right way. To just... start. And just see where it goes. To get the water pump, and get the table, and get rocks, and just... see where it goes. Fuck a schematic. Wing it. Just... google waterproofing a bit first! You know... Like... we can improvise and be liberated and all that, but like... let's not flood the downstairs neighbors. XD

The neuron connection my therapist helped remind me of, with the Now... it brought something to my head instantly. "BE HERE NOW". It was written over and over around a circle on the cover of a book by Ram Dass that an very odd alcoholic tattooed stripper chick with large fake breasts who went by the alias "Doll Parts" gifted to me. I swear to god, you can't make this shit up. And, in hindsight, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess this woman wasn't really using this book the way it was intended... because she was trying to seduce me while she had a young daughter and was living with someone she was dating... so... yeah... the second I found out about that dude I was in the wind. But she bought me this book first. And it is basically Ram Dass's illustrated story of his spiritual awakening, and it has a lot of stuff in the end that's like... practices and rituals and stuff. Super useful if you're into that kinda stuff. I plan on referencing it soon to find a meditative practice that I can actually integrate into my life consistently. And I just always felt like that phrase "be here now" is just... everything you need to know. The who? "you". what? "be." where? "here." when? "now." I guess all that leaves is how? And if you don't know how to just be right here, right now? Oh boy. Yep. Don't know what to say to that. But the reminder is one that wakes me up very quickly, one that speaks to me. One that I understand at a very deep level. When I see "be here now", I get it. It makes as much sense to me as "you are safe". It's like... permission to come back or something, in the way that "you are safe" is like permission to relax, it's really hard to describe.

So, I spent a big chunk of the night making art. Taking a piece of cardboard that I had left over, as I always tend to have, and making a decorative piece to hang on a wall somewhere in my house. It says in big gold letters with black outlining, "BE HERE NOW". And I'm going to just fill the damn thing with some improvised color designs. I think greens and yellows, I have never really had green play a big role in my life or works outside of camo pants, and I feel like it will pair with the gold pretty well. We'll see how it turns out.

I need to go to bed. I just really wanted to share my insights from today because I feel like they could be helpful to others. And to give myself plenty of room to expand and concretize that exploration.

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

Obsessed with the idea that Jack going off to fuck with Ed and Stede was a favor to Iz and not like any care to Ed at all. Sad emotional baby Izzy shows up crying and touching candles and Jack's like "yup whatever this guy wants". Everyone in the world is at least slightly in love with Edward Teach meanwhile Jack is aggressively neutral and only interested in his angry and anxious housewife sending him on side quests

[royal-ruin]

roswell nm fanfic recs (part 2)

other roswell new mexico fic recs here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

so this is it for my current malex bookmarked fics.

michael guerin / alex manes (malex)

we burned down our paper house by Ravens_Words (~15k)

"Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. Epic."

Scenes from a lost decade.

i've only kissed out of fear by lostin_space (~15k)

in which michael and alex get married out of high school

Librae by Enchantable (~9k)

[“Good thinking,” she says, “should I get you fake rings? I can probably make them think there was a marriage certificate or we can cut up mine and Noah’s, god knows I don’t need that thing—“

“Iz!” She stops and looks at him, “I didn’t make it up.”]

You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl by jule1122 (~6k)

He strides back into Kyle’s office with a cockiness he doesn’t feel. He doesn’t answer any of the questions about where he went, just takes the paper from his pocket and hands it to Kyle. “Show this to whoever is in charge and tell them I will be making all of Alex’s medical decisions, and I demand immediate access to my husband.

yes, i have a thing for malex being secretly married. i don’t get it either.

The Real Thirsty Housewives of Roswell, NM by christchex (~3k)

From his seat in the Airstream Alex could hear it all, but he could only catch glimpses of Michael. A shirtless Michael apparently. He heard one of the women outside discuss how she bought new tires just so they could watch Michael replace them.

“God blessed that man with an ass,” one of the thirty-somethings said, the Late Brunch group as Michael called them. “And he blessed me with eyes to look at it, so damn it I’m going to.”

this was absolutely hilarious. i’ve read it like four times now and i practically die of laughter every single time. 

Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories of Childhood by Lori Lane (LoriLane) (~13k)

[Liz took a cautious step forward and the little boy's hand clenched into a fist inside his jeans pocket.

Michael watched this exchange and warned, “Don’t touch him Liz.”

Liz didn’t let her eyes leave the boy, “He’s your inner child, Michael. He’s adorable.”

“My inner child will stab you.”

She spun around at that, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Michael just shrugged, “His hand is in his right pocket. There’s a switchblade there. I stole it from a truck stop when I was ten. Blue handle. Keep stepping closer and I’m sure he’ll show it to you.”

The little boy looked at Michael with betrayal and the older man just raised an eyebrow, “Don’t stab my friends.”]

the way you laid your eyes on me by LogicalBookThief (~4k)

From a young age, Alex learns to rate his pain. Your homophobic dad figuring out you're gay before you do ranks somewhere around an 8. Your friend abandoning you for the same reason ranks a little lower, though just barely. Losing a limb is probably the closest to a perfect 10 he's ever managed to get.

Losing Michael isn't even on the scale, it's so unthinkable.

if you love malex angst, this is the fic for you

The Cowboy Vigilante by el_gilliath (5 part series: ~13k)

The stories of Alex Manes, reporter and the vigilante known as Cowboy.

These are their struggles in New York City, featuring robbers, kidnappers, hostage takers and Chief Police Captain Jesse Manes

isobel evans / maria deluca

this love asylum, like an island (just me and you) by lacecat (~10k)

Bisexual. She’s never said the word out loud to describe herself. When Michael had said it to her, in his Airstream, she had realized that, and thought, maybe there are some things worth bringing out, that don’t deserve to be hidden.

She just wishes that her wedding-rebound-fling hadn’t been with DeLuca, out of all people. Goddamn it.

i wish i had more isobel / maria fics :(

[recurring-polynya]

@iz-stardust is a lovely person and a wonderful artist and I wanted to write her a little present based on this adorable drawing she did. I hope you like it, friend!

Adventures in Babysitting | ao3 | ff.net |

Summary:  When Byakuya is stuck on emergency babysitting duty, he gets an assist from Squad 10.

Starring: Toushirou, Rangiku, Byakuya, and one cranky Ichika.

Ships: Friendships as far as the eye can see!!!

Rating: General audiences, can you believe it?!? You should probably brush your teeth afterwards, tho.

❄️   🐱   🌸   🐰 

“Sir! Captain Kuchiki and, er, a guest are here to see you!”

Toushirou looked up the mission report he had been reviewing. In general, it was pretty unlikely for another captain to just drop by, and it seemed doubly unlikely for Byakuya, of all people, to do so. “Matsumoto!” he barked. “You didn’t schedule an appointment with Captain Kuchiki and then forget to tell me about it, did you?”

“Oh, Captain!” Matsumoto pouted. “You know Renji makes all of Captain Kuchiki’s appointments for him, and he would never trust me to remember something like that.”

This was very true.

“See him in!” Toushirou waved at his waiting Seventh Seat. “Try to look busy, Matsumoto!”

“I am busy!” Matsumoto gestured at the catalog in front of her. “We got budget approval for new office chairs, and I’m trying to pick out the best ones. Your hiney is going to thank me.”

“I will thank you to never mention my hiney again, Matsu-- greetings, Captain Kuchiki!”

Byakuya looked… haggard. His face was pale, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. His hair was gathered in a rather sloppy ponytail, rather than falling in it’s usual glossy waterfall. He kept shifting from one foot to the other in a semi-rhythmic fashion. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but there was a large, lumpy bundle strapped to his chest, and some sort of duffel slung across his back. Had he just returned from a harrowing mission to Hueco Mundo, perhaps?

“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya,” he said, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “I need to ask an important favor.”

“Are you all right?” Toushirou asked, jumping to his feet. “You look like you need to sit down.”

“No, no, I must remain standing.” Kuchiki excused. “As you know, I was supposed to lead the meeting of the Gotei Transparency Improvement Documentation Standards committee this afternoon, but it seems I will not be able to attend. I was hoping that, as co-chair, you would be able to take my place. I am most apologetic, and I swear, on my honor as a Kuchiki, that I will make it up to you.” An angry squall erupted from the cloth wrapped around his chest, and Kuchiki’s hand immediately moved to pat it reassuringly.

“Do you have Ichika?!” Matsumoto squealed, her eyes filling with glittering hearts and stars.

“Er, yes,” Kuchiki mumbled. “It is very unusual, of course, for Renji and Rukia to be called away together, but Kurosaki Ichigo specifically requested their assistance, and obviously, all of Soul Society owes him a great debt, so...” He trailed off in a most un-Byakuya-like fashion.

“Of course I can handle the meeting,” Toushirou reassured briskly, although he had to raise his voice to be heard over the crying, which was steadily increasing in volume. “Do you need… help… with the other matter?”

Kuchiki made a troubled face. “I had thought that my staff at the manor would be able to assist, but Ichika seemed extremely agitated to be left in their care. Strangely enough, being attached to my person is the only thing that seems to placate her. Even so, she becomes angry if I sit down or stop this infernal swaying motion.”

“Well, of course!” Matsumoto scolded. “She doesn’t know those people! You’re her special uncle! But she’s probably bored from being in that thing. Take her out and let her have a little playtime with Auntie Rangiku!”

Byakuya’s face went stiff, and his eyes narrowed judgmentally. For a moment, Toushirou feared that Byakuya was going to take issue with the non-biological nature of Rangiku’s aunthood, although he knew for a fact that Abarai and Kuchiki subscribed to the Rukongai idea of “the more aunties the better.” He, himself, had respectfully turned down a similar honorarium, although he had been secretly touched by the offer. (Momo still insisted on referring to him as ‘Uncle Shirou’ in the baby’s presence. He found that much less touching).

Rangiku, for her part, was regarding Byakuya with a look, just daring him to try it.

People, namely Rukia, kept insisting that Byakuya considered Toushirou to be his friend, but Toushirou had his doubts. Sure, they played shogi regularly, and Toushirou seemed to be the only person outside of Renji and Rukia that Byakuya ever texted, but it’s not like Toushirou really knew the guy. And yet, as he watched Byakuya’s face, he realized, like a bolt of thunder, that he recognized an emotion. He was suddenly certain, down to the marrow of his bones, that Rukia had given her brother a stern talking to on this very topic.

A few moments of obvious internal struggle went by, and then Byakuya blew a small puff of air out of his nose, and began extracting the baby from her wrappings. “I wish you luck,” he declared grimly.

Rangiku hopped up from her desk and danced over to Byakuya’s side. As the cool air hit Ichika’s face, her crying slowed, and she began to look around.

“Hello, baby!” Matsumoto trilled. Toushirou could tell she was dying to snatch the baby from Byakuya’s arms, but was holding herself back until Ichika was ready.

Ichika looked up into Byakuya’s face, her violet eyes wide and uncertain. Then she looked to Rangiku again. Then Byakuya again.

“These are the offices of Squad Ten,” Byakuya explained. “I believe you have been here before. We are guests, so you must be on your best behavior.”

Ichika looked back over at Rangiku, who was hiding the lower half of her face with her scarf. “Peekaboo!” she exclaimed, flinging the scarf away.

Ichika squealed and lunged for Rangiku (or possibly her scarf), nearly knocking Byakuya off his feet.

“Ha ha!” Matsumoto sang, spinning Ichika around. “There’s my happy girl!”

Byakuya’s entire body slumped with relief, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You should sit down,” Toushirou suggested, pulling his chair around. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Byakuya sank gratefully into the chair and didn’t even ask any pointed questions about the tea, which is how Toushirou knew that he must be completely exhausted.

Rangiku plopped down on one of the office couches, Ichika in her lap. She dropped her scarf over the baby’s head and tickled her nose with it as Ichika laughed and laughed.

Toushirou wasn’t exactly envious of his lieutenant’s way with people, big and small, but he was grateful for it. Rangiku did friendship so easily-- ironing out disputes between squad members, throwing a birthday bash for a friend-of-a-friend-of-friend, charming cranky babies-- and yet, watching her work her magic only made him feel more special to be part of her inner circle, that she’d seen something in that scrawny kid, so hesitant to stand up for himself that long ago day in Junrinan.

“Her attention span doesn’t last very long,” Rangiku said in a sing-songy voice. “We should have a series of fun ideas lined up!”

Byakuya perked up, and unloaded the bag from his shoulder. He seemed to have forgotten it was there. “I have her Seaweed Ambassador!” he offered helpfully, pulling a stuffed…creature from the bag. “Although it did not produce the desired reaction earlier.”

“Oh, I know!” Rangiku suggested. “Have you ever seen Rukia and Renji do the ‘Big Mommy, Little Daddy’ game?”

“The what?” Byakuya and Toushirou replied in unison.

“It’s so cute! Rukia gets on a chair and makes a big deal about how she’s so tall, and Renji stands on his knees and talks about how short he is. Ichika loves it, don’t you, Ichika!”

Ichika stretched her hands above her head and blew an enthusiastic raspberry.

Matsumoto looked meaningfully at Toushirou. Then Byakuya. Then back to Toushirou.

“No,” Toushirou growled, pointing his finger at Rangiku. “It would be very-- I would-- Just, no.”

“Absolutely not,” Byakuya agreed. “Categorically not.”

Rangiku stuck out her lower lip. “You two are no fun.” She turned her attention back to her tiny charge. “Ichika, are these your toes? I didn’t know you had toes! Let me see!”

Toushirou busied himself with the tea. This, unfortunately, was also classic Matsumoto, trying to draw him into her nonsense. As if even a baby could mistake himself and Byakuya for a pair of loud, dramatic dumbasses like Renji and Rukia. No, the best thing he could possibly do is help Kuchiki get his nerves back together. Children didn’t like Toushirou. Even when he was a child himself, other children hadn’t liked him. Ghost children liked him sometimes, but that was different.

Toushirou decided that Kuchiki deserved the good gyokuro, the stuff he himself only indulged in when Matsumoto was being particularly taxing. It seemed appropriate. He let his mind clear a little so that Hyourinmaru could get the water to the perfect temperature. Hyourinmaru loved the ceremony of even a casual workday tea break. You are a kind friend, his zanpakutou rumbled in his head. Senbonzakura will appreciate this gesture. Hyourinmaru had a hard time telling the difference between Byakuya and Senbonzakura sometimes, and Toushirou had given up trying to correct him.

A memory suddenly popped into Toushirou’s head. A little ghost boy who hadn’t passed over to Soul Society because he was waiting to see the first snowfall. Toushirou had been hesitant to use his zanpakutou for such a frivolous reason, but Hyourinmaru hadn’t seemed to mind, in the end. An idea began to crystalize in his mind.

“Oh, no, baby, what’s the matter?” Matsumoto was exclaiming. “What is this sad face? Is it time to get up? Do you want Auntie Rangiku to walk with you?” Ichika had started to make little fussy noises again.

Toushirou pressed a fragrant cup of tea into Byakuya’s hand as he passed on his way over to the couch. He cleared his throat, and Ichika turned her tiny face up to his. “Hey, Ichika,” he said. “Check this out.” He opened his hand to reveal a tiny, sparkling ice sculpture in the shape of a snowman adorned with rabbit ears. Ichika’s eyes widened, and she waved her arms at it. She would have fallen off of Matsumoto’s lap, if it weren’t for his lieutenant’s quick reflexes.

“How cute, Captain!” Matsumoto cried. “Oh, lucky you, Ichika! Captain made that beautifully bunny just for you! He wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

“You can touch it,” Toushirou said, crouching a little and holding his hand out. Maybe she would be interested in the feel of the ice.

“She will likely ruin it,” Byakuya warned.

“That’s okay. I made it for her.”

Byakuya took a deep inhale of his tea steam. “It is just like you,” he opined, “to put as much care into an amusement for an infant as you would into a great work of art.”

Toushirou’s ears burned, but Matsumoto just laughed. “You are so right, Captain Kuchiki! Classic Captain Hitsugaya, am I right?”

“Yes,” Byakuya agreed. “Classic Captain Hitsugaya.” He took a sip of the tea. “Truly, this tea is returning me from the brink of death. I thank you.”

“Well, I do expect you to take this baby away eventually,” Toushirou tried to grumble. It was hard to get properly grumpy when Ichika was patting his ice bunny with her fat little hands and smiling a big, gummy grin. Suddenly, she stretched her arms out toward him, and made a little whimpery sound. “Sorry, this is the only one I have,” he said.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Matsumoto suggested.

“She is mistaken,” Toushirou replied.

“Hmmm,” said Byakuya.

“I heard that! Don’t you ‘hmmm’ over there!” Toushirou snapped.

“Abarai has conjectured that Ichika is able to identify Rukia and himself by their reiatsu.”

“Stop.”

“That would be nonsense, obviously, except that she is a Kuchiki, so she is, of course, exceptional in every way.”

Matsumoto’s eyes went wide with delight. “Do you think she thinks Captain is Rukia?”

Toushirou winced.

“Of course not.”

Toushirou blew out a sigh of relief.

“I was only suggesting that he reminds her of Rukia. Because of the cold nature of--”

“Yes, yes, we get it!” Toushirou snapped.

“Oh, Captain,” Matsumoto made a frowny face at him, as Ichika’s face started to screw up in preparation for a full-throated Abarai howl.

“Fine, fine!” Toushirou sighed, handing the ice rabbit over to Rangiku before hefting Ichika up onto his hip. “There. You’re up. You happy now?”

Ichika leaned her head into his side, and patted his chest, making a comforting little cooing noise.

A high-pitched noise came out of Matsumoto, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. “You got a hug!”

“She has just started doing that,” Byakuya informed them grandly. “I, myself, have received several. It is adorable, is it not?”

Toushirou pointedly avoided looking at Matsumoto’s face, which was probably dissolving. Instead, he looked down at the sticky little gremlin who had her cheek pressed into his haori. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s pretty great.”

[marauder-level-chaos]

Don’t Make Me Play Pretend. Chapter 2

The return on the pining idiots! More awkward, more lovesick neighbors, more drama. This chapter also features Izzy so yay. The next chapter is where the fun really begins.

Masterlist

Warning: swearing, angst, fluff, fake dating, my shitty humor

A/N: I’M SORRYYYYY. This is late. I had tests, then I had a motherfucking lab report and like GAHHHH. I promise I will try to do better with the next chapter. I am not guaranteeing it but I swear I’ll try. My writing will be a little slow until my finals are done tho :( For now please enjoy, and leave feedback? I love reading the comments people leave under fics.

***

“I need you to be my boyfriend, Alexander.” Magnus’ words rang through Alec’s mind. He almost could not believe them. He had been crushing on the golden eyed boy for quite a long time. Before Alec could find the words to respond to this request, however, Magnus continued, “Well, I just need you to pretend for a while. There is a reunion for my high school next month and I would really appreciate it if you would pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Magnus…” Alec’s heart sank to his stomach. This is not what he had expected. He wanted to tell Magnus that he wasn’t qualified for the job. At 22 years of age, the closest he had ever gotten to being in a relationship was when his mother tried to set him up with Lydia Branwell. That was what pushed Alec to come out to his parents. It had been an absolute disaster for everybody involved.

“I understand if you want to say no.”

“Next month, you said?”

“During Christmas break.” Magnus confirmed.

“I...I’ll help you. It’s just pretending, right?” Alec said, against his better judgement. Although, seeing the smile on Magnus’ face immediately made that worth it. After he and Magnus had said their goodbyes, Alec went back into his apartment and called Izzy. Isabelle Lightwood was his little sister and possibly the only person Alec trusted. She was the first person Alec had felt comfortable talking about his sexuality to. It took her all of three rings to pick up her phone.

“Hey, big brother.”

“Hey, Iz. Can I ask you for advice on something?”

Izzy arched her eyebrows, making Alec immediately regret asking his question. “Mr. I-don’t-need-your-help-finding-a-boyfriend finally needs dating advice, huh?”

“I never said dating advice, Isabelle.”

“So, I’m wrong? This is about something else?” Izzy asked her brother, knowing very well that she was right. Alec sighed, accepting his defeat.

“No, you’re not wrong. It’s about Magnus.”

“The cute neighbor with the impeccable fashion sense?” Alec nodded in response to his sister’s question. They had talked about Alec’s crush on his neighbor before. Alec always thought that Izzy and him would get along well. Izzy’s next question brought Alec back to the conversation he was having. “Did you finally ask him out?”

“He did.” The boy interrupted his sister’s high-pitched squealing and continued, “Well, not really. He needs a pretend boyfriend for his high school reunion next month.”

“And you agreed?”

“Of course I agreed, Iz. I know it’s not ideal but something is better than nothing, right?”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, Alec.”

“I know, Izzy. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Alec sounded as though he was trying to convince himself rather than his sister. He sighed as he got off the call with Isabelle. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

***

“I need you to be my boyfriend, Alexander.” The words fell from Magnus’ mouth so quickly when he saw Alexander. With an instant feeling of regret, Magnus tried to study the reaction of his neighbor. Alec’s face was unreadable. The lack of a response caused panic to rise into Magnus’ chest. In a desperate attempt to cover up what he had just said, he added, “Well, I just need you to pretend for a while. There is a reunion for my high school next month and I would really appreciate it if you would pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Magnus…” The way Alec said his name hit Magnus with a warm feeling, something he hadn’t felt in quite a while.

“I understand if you want to say no.” Please, don’t say no, Alexander.

“Next month, you said?”

“During Christmas break.” Magnus nervously wiped the sweat from his hands on his jeans. Watching Alexander’s face break into the most radiant smile brought some much needed immediate comfort.

“I...I’ll help you. It’s just pretending, right?” I fucking wish it wasn’t. Magnus smiled at the taller boy, expressing his gratitude. Something was better than nothing, right? Once he was back at his apartment Magnus called Catarina.

“How’d it go?” She asked immediately after picking up the call.

“He said he’s okay with pretending to be my boyfriend.” Magnus added in a chuckle. “Because pretend relationships have never complicated anything for anyone before.”

“Look at the positive aspect of this, Mags. At least you two will be spending some time together. He might actually like you in the process.”

“I hope you’re right about this, Cat. I really do.” Magnus looked into the full length mirror hanging in his apartment and sighed into the phone. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Taglist: @quickbright @addisonsintern @dreamerthinker @just--another--bean @tolkienlockian @textrovert-01

[mackeydoodledoo]

Heartache

Pairing: Izzy Garcia x (FemKnight!)Reader

Summary: It follows a girl: Y/N Y/L/N, who currently owns the "Pteradon Champion Zord", along with its DinoSoul Key, who is currently a Professional Box Fighter. The youngest ever to be a pro. What she doesn't know is that she is a direct descendant of the supposed Mythical "DinoSoul" Tribe. [Equivalent to the Ryusoul Tribe]. Her partner, she calls him, "buddy" as she doesn't have a proper name for him. The two of them embark on a journey to figure out who she is, finding an old flame and developing a new crush in the process.

Warnings: Broken Heart, Depression

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

You've been purposely missing sporix beast fights as you didn't want to stir up an argument with Izzy and Amelia mid-battle. You've also been talking to your manager; thank god for her super-chill personality. However, she wasn't able to give you more time off. So, whenever you'd be at your matches; you'd lose. It's been different at the rec center without Izzy training you and vice versa. However, there was one occasion you had bumped into her. The two of you only exchanged looks before she walks away.

"I'm sorry Izzy," You sigh under your breath

You really hoped Izzy would have heard what you said, but to no avail. You packed your things without even checking your knuckles for bruises or skin splits.

However, eventually you found yourself to head back into fighting sporix beasts as you were bored of being in your apartment for days on end or at the rec center for hours on end.

"Just focus on taking down the sporix beast," He says

"I'll try buddy," You sigh

As you morph into your armor, you launch yourself right from your balcony to go meet the rangers, who were already engaging the sporix beast. You use your ability to fly and slash any hengemen and sporix beast. Oddly enough, there were two of them out today; the main sporix beast and Mucus.

"Y/L/N," Zayto sighs in relief," Glad you could make it out today."

"Glad to be back Zayto," You sigh, "Had enough punching a punching bag for a change.”

After taking the sproix beast down, you were close to its powered-up self. You were in the process of your arm reaching out for it when Void Knight appeared. You try to reach out to the sporix anyway, but he slashes your shoulder and sends you flying back to everyone else; de-morphing right as you hit the ground. Despite what happened yesterday, Izzy was the one who helped you right back up.

"Looks like the cocky newbie ranger doesn't have much fight in her," Void Knight laughs

"You say that about her one more time I swear to god I will end you-" Izzy begins talking down to Void Knight

"I'd like to see you try green ranger," he laughs once more but then teleports away just as Zayto catches up to him

After everyone de-morphs, Izzy turns and looks at you. She scoffs and begins walking away.

"Izzy-" you exhale, catching her wrist gently

"What?" She asks, turning to you, annoyed

"Listen," you sigh, "Whatever you saw yesterday-"

"Yeah I know what I saw Y/N," Izzy interrupts

"It's not Izzy," you say, trying to reassure her the best you can without breaking in front of her, "If you could let me explain-"

"No!" Izzy yells, gaining attention from the others, "I know what I saw. And I thought you liked me back..."

She officially turns her heel and begins walking away from you. Again.

"Iz-Izzy wait!" You plead, hearing the hurt and the crack in your voice each time you called her name

You didn't bother to try and chase after her. You did it once, didn't end well. You even tried to tell her to let you explain; didn't work out either. Everyone else went to go comfort Izzy while you.. You were alone. Only Amelia remained behind. The both of you made eye contact before she makes her leave. You walked into the opposite direction and went home.

"Still a 'I'm not gonna talk to you' ordeal huh?" He asks you

"No," you choke on a sob, "I'm-I'm going to be in the shower... Try and relax with water...."

Not too long in your 'contemplating life choices' shower, a crying session ensued before you heard your phone go off. You don't bother answering it as it was on the bathroom counter. You only continued your crying session. However, you finally gain enough self-esteem to check your phone; Amelia... Plus, your phone didn’t stop ringing. You just slide the notification so it disappears. Not another minute later, your phone goes off again. This time though, it was from Izzy... She's calling you.... You let it go to voicemail as you finish out your shower.

Once you step out of the shower, you throw your phone onto your bed and then step out onto the cold apartment you owned. However, you hear a knock on your door. Not giving a care in the world, you just go and answer your door.

"Do you-do you have a minute?" Amelia asks

"Fine," You scoff, "What else do I have to lose?"

She lets herself in and seats herself at your island counter. She fidgets with her fingers as she looks at them.

"So," You start, putting on one of Izzy's hoodies she gave you, "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to apologize," She answers, "I've processed the entire situation and I have come to a realization that-"

"You're not fully over me." You finish her sentence, "Why am I surprised when I shouldn't be?"

"Because when I broke up with you, you expected me to be already moved on from you right?" Amelia asks

You turn to her and nod.

"When you came back into town, something in me just 'snapped' in me and then every time I'd see you around Izzy, I'd just get... Get.." Amelia tries to find the right word

"Jealous?" You ask, sighing

She nods.

"Look Amelia," You say, sitting next to her, "I'm okay with being friends. However, what we had before, we can't do that again. At least, I just wish we didn't leave off where we did. If it were different circumstances, maybe we could have still been together. But, time's changed. And I really like Izzy. If anything too, you should also be apologizing to Izzy."

"I agree," She says, "But can you tell her at least that I will? I want to do it when I'm ready to apologize to her. Which will be very soon."

"Yeah," You sigh

"I'm going to get out of your hair now Carls," Amelia sighs, "But I'll see you around."

"See you around Ameils," You reply back as she leaves

"Well, that's one amendment you have down" He says

"Now it's getting the girl I love to love me... Again," You say

"That's true," He says, "I really like Izzy. She really makes you happy."

"Okay thanks dad," You tease, "But you aren't wrong about her making me happy. She's also gotten me that big win the other Friday."

He doesn't reply with anything else but you decided to go to sleep; still trying to figure out to get Izzy back into your life, confess your feelings to her.

It was a pretty restless night for you as you are already on your 2nd mug of coffee. You slept in the hoodie that Izzy gave you, hoping it would give you enough confidence to figure out a way to confess your feelings to Izzy. You were zo deep into your own thoughts you didn't even hear your phone going off until your phone touched you.

"Javi?" You pick up your phone

"Hey, so BuzzBlast needs me for a last minute report on the history of the mysterious DinoSoul Knight tribes that inhabited the town way before this place was Pine Ridge." He explains

"And you're telling me this why?" You ask, somewhat annoyed

"I told Izzy I would take her out for breakfast, the same place you and I went to," He says, "I told her I'd meet her there. But, you want your chance to get her back, this is that chance."

"Okay," You say, "Thanks Javi."

You hang up the phone and quickly get yourself dressed. Without talking to your partner, you rushed out the door.

Part 6

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Bamn! And the kid is 4

Also on AO3! 

TL;DR:  Izuku gets hits by a de-aging quirk and it turns out hes always been super cute.

izuku gets hit w a de-aging quirk back to like,, age 5-8

angst + fluff + dads happens

izuku, iida, bakugo, kiri and all might are getting groceries

not a great team for shopping but its like, just post internship pre cultural festival so its no a disaster

all might is there to make sure they dont do something stupid or get lost. he was kinda hesitant to go with them because he cant protect them anymore but they are little heroes! so they should be ok, right?

w r o n g

the villain attacks katsuki just outside the store, the only one of them that doesnt have a licence, izuku takes a hit for him and he and iida quickly take the villain down while kiri protects the bystanders

then izuku collapses and bakugo is ready to yell because if izuku takes one more hit for someone hes going to be the hit

all might runs over because even though its still dangerous he has a hero license (bc it hasnt been cancled yet because no one wanted to be the person to do it) and thats his s o n. iida is calling the people he should be calling

all might finds just, this tiny tiny green freckly mess in izuku's oversize clothing and he wants to cuss up a storm because FUCk hes liKe 6

bakugo runs over because all might looks like hes going to cry and hes not ready for that today and he sees this horrifically familiar face. he he does swear.

izuku looks so lost but he sees bakugo and he lights up!!

"kacchan!! youre so tall wow!!! so coool!!!"

and bakugo is going to scream bc f u c k hes so annoying and adorable. bakugo tells izuku that he is normally his age but got hit with a quirk that made him small and hes!! so excited!!

hes rambling about how cool the quirk is and wondering how long it lasts and how it works and allmight is just shell shocked still

"young bakugo, should we tell his mother?"

",,, inko is in america chasing down her husband to divorce him. i dont think she needs this shit right now"

"understandable"

kiri comes over bc whats happening? and he shrieks a little and hugs izuku

izuku is very lost but hes giggling bc kacchan's cool friend likes him, so maybe kacchan likes him now! bakugo is like "fuck why do i feel emotions thats wack"

so iida, having just reported what happened and now on the phone to aizawa walks over to tell aizawa everyones status. he and sees izuku and goes dead silent

"iida?? iida whats wrong?"

",,, hes,,, so s m a l l "

"wAiT WhAt"

"like,,, shrunk?????????"

"no sensei like,,, hes 5"

just a loud "F UUCK" as aizawa hangs up to run over

ok but they are all awkwardly buying the food bc they really need to get food, tiny izuku or no

and so izuku is with bakugo and allmight while the others do the worlds fastest grocery run

and izuku asks all might "mr? is your quirk being really tall? because thats super cool if it is!!" and bakugo is dying because what the fuck does all might say to that

"no my boy, im actually quirkless!"

"oh,, sorry sir"

"why are you sorry?"

"i dont know, but thats what everyone says to me when i tell them so i think its bad?"

and he just mumbles

"kacchan said i could play with him again if i got my quirk but i never did. do i get my quirk now? is that why we have cool friends??!"

and bakugo is going to cry bc all might looks so sad and he cant deal with that

so iida and kiri have bought all the crap and they are waiting out from with this tiny bubbly kid who they have to hold hands with or he Will run off to go look at stuff

aizawa shows up in the school car (,,, driven by mic because he cant fucking drive) and izuku is like OH HI

and aizawa is like ",,, hello?"

and izuku sees mic too and he thinks for a few seconds

"are,,, you two the new heroes that just started? from that really cool sports festival!!! i heard you from my preschool!!"

and bakugo is cackling be he fucking remembers that

and aizawa is red and nods and mic is like TINY CHILD WHO ARE YOU because aizawa didnt tell him what was going on

izuku is like "hi im midoriya izuku! please call me izuku!!" and mic is crying bc??? baby boy??

so they get an update ab the villain, apparently the quirk lasts for 2 weeks and allmight is caught between happy bc Tiny and sad bc My Boy??? he says how long it lasts and katsuki groans loudly

"bakugo?"

'AUntIEs iN aMEricA For 3 WeEKs"

"shit"

in the car all might has to hold him because aizawa didnt think this through and there isnt a child seat, so izuku is playing with all mights fringe because its long enough to be in his face and allmight is cry bc its his boy!!!!

they are up front because iida and katsuki need to talk to aizawa about whatever is going down with izuku. kiri is just there for moral support honestly, he is still pretty lost

izuku is asking present mic all these questions about his quirk ands all might is legitimately impressed at the control mic has because h looks like hes 30 seconds from bursting into a screech of joy at this tiny boy but his voice is just a little louder than normal

mic is singing a song in english

and izuku says "thats a rude song! my mum said so!" in perfectly understandable English and katsuki l a u gh hs

"I WAS WAITING FOR HIM TO SLIP UP HAHA"

and mic, cackling bc hes worked it out had to pull over for a sec

all might is red because hes been swearing in english the whole time oops

aizawa is like "Um????? whats happening"

katsuki, through tears : this little shit has known english his whole life but he didnt want more english homework so he just pretended he didnt through middle school and forgot to admit he could when we started UA

izuku looks lost bc what did he do?? mic is saying sorry to this tiny child for singing a rude song, iida is ab to have a stroke

mic and izuku chat about mics quirk in english happily and they pull up to ua and izuku is like wAIT WHAT. bakugo is cringing bc howwww do they explain this

present mic and aizawa, 0 clue what going on "its UA. you go to school here."

"oh, did i get into gen ed? is that why kacchan is my friend again?!!"

"youre in the hero course with me, brat"

and izuku looks upset and aizawa is lost because what kid cries when they are told they get to be a hero

"dont be mean, its rude to lie"

"why would i lie?"

when izuku says hes quirkless bakugo and all might look like someone kicked them

aizawa is like "wait,, quirkless?" and izuku looks at him confused because evryone knows izuku is quirkless

"yeah,, i have the toe thing-y."

and the kids face crumples

"does this mean i cant go into UA now??"

mic picks up the kid before he can start to cry and says "of course not! i bet youd be a great hero, quirk or not!!"

aizawa and mic are giving all might and Bakugo a Look because they look so sheepish

kiri and iida are lost because izuku Very Much has a quirk, it explodes him

all might all but pushes everyone through the gate and aizawa and mic are just staring at him because they Know hes not spilling something

anyway, eri comes to visit!! bc izuku is small!!

she calls him deku and izuku looks sad bc kacchan only calls him deku when hes mad at him and izuku just whispers "you can call me izuku please?" and eri is like "YES IZUKU HI IM ERI HELLO"

izuku is very happy

hes still like, wearing a shirt dress basically so aizawa gets momo, who has a little quiet "HES SO SMALLL" scream in the cupboard, then pops out to make him a onesie. izuku asking if it can be allmight and momo is like “OF COURSE IT CAN YOU LITTLE MUNCHKIN ID DIE FOR YOU”

izuku gets this massive fuzzy onesie and hes like !!!” yourequirkissocoolallmightiloveitsoftthaNKYOU”

momo just hugs him because hes so tiny and cute oh my lord

eri and izuku play heroes!! eri is lemillion and izuku is all might and they are defeating the great villain Kirishima

kiri wasnt warned he was the villain. he just has these kids yeeting on to him and hes so lost

all might and bakugo are trying to make a child sized dinner. they are working together bc if they pretend they are doing something important maybe aizawa wont kill them

aizawa is just,,, glaring at them. he hasnt moved from the corner of the kitchen. bakugo is getting nervous, all might is trying not to spit blood into the food

its like, 4pm? and izuku and eri are sleepy but they are Big Kids so they dont need to nap. all might and bakugo are trying to finish the food before they fall asleep bc god damn it they worked for this

aizawa is trying not to smile but they are so goddamn cute. izuku is cheering because they made katsudon

"kacchan how did you know this was my favourite!! youre so coooolllL!!!!"

bakugo, suddenly feeling crushing guilt: yeah,, im,,, awesome

aizawa is like, walking slowly towards all might and hes scrambling to think of something to spare him from his wrath

bakugo : OH YAGI WERENT YOU ALL MIGHTS SECRATARY

izuku, crying: OH MY GOD

yagi, crying also : thankyou bakugo i owe you my life

izuku is asking so many questions aizawa has to remind him to breathe

please tiny izuku is very fond of aizawa but no one has any idea why bc the dude is scary

"eraserhead sir, when can i see my mum?"

aizawa, suddenly wishing he had kurogiri's quirk: ",,,,you seee"

ok but like, just for a little pain

"it'll be like a sleep over, ok kid?"

"you really want me to stay? most kids wont let me even play for a little while, so no one sleeps over. i can stay home without my mum if you want! i dont wanna bug you,,,"

aizawa, feeling a rush of fondness for this terrible child "no its ok, stay here. youre a good kid"

baby izuku clumsily braiding aizawas hair bc his mum taught him

consider: baby izuku and shinso

baby izuku is on a need to know basis bc there is a traitor somewhere. shinso is just minding his own business and runs into a giggling curly boy

and hes like ",,, who are you???"

"im izuku!!!"

shinso just looking at him and groans

"of course its you. its always you"

he picks up izuku and takes him to aiawa. izuku is patting his hair happily

"i found the gremlin"

"hi eraserhead!!!"

"thank god

izuku makes him help with his hero notes because he doesnt know kanji yet. izuku is just telling him what to do while shinso does as hes told, trying not to smile

[planetsam]

“I was comatose for weeks. I wasn’t supposed to make it, somehow I did. But I can’t deny that a part of me wishes I hadn’t and it terrifies me.” Alex has been sullen and zoning out after what happened in the finale, it’s about Michael, it’s about his own battles and Michael needs to make sure Alex is surviving this.

***

War and Peace sounds great hitting the wall.

Seriously it was thoughtful as hell for those Russian Moralists to write such big, boring books. It’s almost like they knew one day a pissed off alien would be throwing them against walls. They’re great for that, they suck at everything else. Max’s current state makes a lot more sense if this is the shit he’s reading. Michael’s halfway through the stupid book and he’s already praying for death. And he hasn’t even bookmarked or underlined any of the passages like someone laying in the bed.

With a noise of frustration he gets up and retrieves the book.

The old fashioned way.

Michael is piecing his life together instead of making it a Miley Cyrus song. And that means staying out of trouble. That and apparently reading bedtime stories to a lump in the bed. Max is a serial cuddler, seeing him laid out like this is weird. Michael doesn’t like it. Kyle says it’s a matter of time and it’s up to him but Michael doesn’t believe that. Max wouldn’t choose this. In his bones he refuses to believe that he would choose putting him and Iz through this. He lumps himself in there against the doubt because believing that Max was telling the truth that he was never alone is his only lifeline in this.

“These two better get their shit sorted or I’m suing,” Michael snaps as he thumbs back to the page he’s on.

“Which two?” Alex glances at the book, “ah,” he says, followed quickly by, “I’m here for a vitals check.”

Kyle’s been making himself somewhat scarce. Not just because of how their last interaction got, but because at some point he’s going to have to choose between being a doctor and being a friend. The longer they can delay that the better for the whole secrecy thing. The person with the second most amount of 

medical training is Alex, so they avoid any mind tripping of doctors. Michael watches as Alex checks a few of the monitors.

“Can he even hear me?”

Alex looks over at him. Michael bites his bottom lip. He isn’t sure he even has the right to ask that. Alex is the only person he knows whose been through anything like this. He’ll read every one of the big, dog eared books Max has in his glorified spank bank, he just wants to know there’s a chance it’s working. Kyle’s a good doctor and doesn’t give him false hope, just gentle encouragement. The truth is that the only thing Michael’s ever had faith in, the only person, is Alex. All things require proof and as much as he likes to tell himself Alex is one of them, he isn’t. He’s in his own category in Michael’s highly clinical mind. 

“They say—“

“Could you hear?” Michael asks. 

Alex looks at him again and Michael ignores the pain that laces through him as Alex’s features harden. Defenses go up. Michael’s not here to talk about them, he’s here for Max. Same as Alex.

“Like I was saying,” Alex says, managing to scold and inform him simultaneously, “they say you can hear people you love. That’s supposed to help.”

“Did it help you?” He presses and the furrow in Alex’s brow smoothes out as his defenses go up.

“I didn’t have anyone I loved there to talk to me,” he reminds him.

Michael’s stomach crunches at the same time the familiar anger starts to bubble. Alex didn’t have anyone and it breaks his heart, in no small part because he did and some combination of pride and fear and misunderstanding kept them apart. He’d have read to Alex. He’d have done anything. More stupid things than he’d do for Max. But he can’t say that and he can’t give Alex shit for thinking he was alone. Alex breaks his gaze with a tight, cold smile and finishes his checkup. He calls Kyle and speaks quietly to him before hanging up.

“Kyle says everything’s fine,” he says. 

“Thanks,” Michael replies.

Alex nods and leaves.

Michael looks down at the book in his lap with a sinking feeling. Then he looks back over at Max’s serene face. Michael has spent his life on the precipice of an endless pit of anger. If he was a character in one of the thick tomes, he’d be an antihero at best. Ignoring the anger and any other urges, he picks up the book and starts to read aloud again. Max doesn’t stir. The part that he gets to has a comet in it and, to be fair, it’s not quite as boring as the rest of it. Max seems to agree, given how much underlining is on the pages. Michael tries to inject enthusiasm in his voice, though he’s sure it’s making the author roll in his grave. The book starts to get boring again and he sighs, not expecting to be joined by another breath.

“I always liked that part,” Alex says, pushing off the wall.

“You’re quiet,” Michael says.

“You’re just lost in the story,” Alex contradicts and taps his leg for good measure.

“Please, you’re quiet for anyone. It’s unnerving that you only got one leg,” Michael points out. Alex gives a dry laugh and continues to check, reports to Kyle and then back to him, “Kyle says you’re taking the night shift,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Michael promises. 

“It’s not my business,” Alex says firmly, “I just don’t want you to—“

“Relapse?”

Alex presses his lips together.

“Look the only acetone around is for when that guy wakes up. Bottles are all sealed and accounted for. And I’m fine,” he promises, “not even an itch. It’s just War and Peace,” he says holding the book up, “and War reading to Peace.”

Alex nods and turns around. In a split second, Michael figures if he’s going to be up all night sulking and reading moralistic Russian literature, he might as well go full Max Evans with it. He puts the book down and gets up as Alex pauses by the door.

“Hey, uh, Alex?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d have read to you,” Michael says, “when you were—“ he motions towards Max, “I would have.” 

Alex gives him a long look and there’s no surprise there, which kind of hurts. But there’s no walls there either, which is something he wasn’t expecting. Without them Alex looks tired and hurt, Michael thinks he can see the new hurts on him too. Maybe more than just the ones his carelessness has put there. But Alex doesn’t run, he just lingers there like a ghost. One that Michael desperately wants to pull to his side of things rather than let the other side have him. Finally Alex looks at him with something in his eyes that cuts to Michael’s soul.

“Maybe I would have heard you,” Alex says. 

Michael tightens his jaw and Alex breaks eye contact, taking a breath before meeting his eyes again.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says.

Michael stares at the door where he was standing before coming back to the chair and dropping into it. He feels like he’s on autopilot. If you can hear the people you love, then maybe Alex still loves him. Maybe there’s a chance. He reaches for the book and realizes there’s a hand over it. Which he stares at for a full ten seconds before it registers that its Max’s hand and his brothers eyes are open and looking at him blearily.

“Max,” he breathes and scrambles forward to get the phone, only to be stopped by Max grabbing his collar.

“Go after him.”

[bestillmyslashyheart]

1x12 Coda (#5.2)

Continuation of this because Caitlin, Shae, and Lauren asked nicely

Max slammed the door behind him and bounded up the steps of the cabin. The front door opened and Liz stepped out to greet him.

“Where is he?” Max barked as soon as he saw her.

Liz held up a hand to calm him but Max just tried to push past her. Liz placed her hand on his chest and pressed hard until he stopped and looked at her.

“I know you’re upset right now, but you need to calm down.” She told him.

“Where’s Michael?” He asked again.

“Max-”

Max shook his head and stepped around her. Flinging the door open wide, he paused a foot inside when Kyle and Cam stood up from where they’d been sitting on the couch. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked in surprise, his tone sharper than he intended. He looked around but Isobel was the only other person in the room. Dimly, he recognized the sounds of Liz coming inside and shutting the door. “Where’s Michael? And Noah?”

Isobel crossed the room and slapped him across the face. His head jolted to the side more out of surprise than actual force. Max put a hand to his cheek and gaped at Isobel but she just glared at him.

“Don’t you ever do that to Michael again.” Her voice was calm but hard and Max could only nod.

“Where is he?”

“Sleeping.” Max’s neck hurt from how fast he whipped his head around at the new voice. Alex Manes stood in the archway to the rest of the house, anger written clear on his face. “So don’t wake him up.”

“He’s sleeping?!” Max was flabbergasted. “He heals and kidnaps a serial killer and he’s fucking sleeping?” Max took a step forward and Alex smoothly pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. Max stopped cold in his tracks and slowly put his hands up.

“Yes. He’s sleeping. So do not wake him up.” Alex told him. “I believe I was very clear.”

Max swallowed and glanced between Alex’s face and the gun. His face was set and his hand never wavered. Max suddenly remembered that Alex was a decorated combat veteran who had probably seen more than his fair share of violent situations and knew his way around a firearm. The man didn’t even blink. 

“You don’t like having a gun pointed at you, do you?” Alex asked idly.

Max shook his head slowly.

“Bet you’d like it even less if it was someone you thought loved and cared about you holding it.” Max felt his stomach clench as Alex’s voice turned ice cold.

Nobody in the room moved. 

“You ever hurt or threaten Michael again, you and I are going to have a problem. Do you understand me, Max?” Max wasn’t sure he’d ever heard his name sound like that, a threat in and of itself. 

Max nodded his head vigorously. “It was a mistake, Alex. I would never hurt Michael.”

Alex let out a hollow laugh and Max took a step back instinctively. “Never hurt him? So punching him, throwing him into cars, telling him he’s nothing to you - none of that counts as hurting him to you?”

A chill swept over him as he was forced to realize just how bad his relationship with Michael had gotten. And he was ashamed to realize, as he thought it over, that it was almost entirely on him. Every time Max had lost control of himself recently, he’d taken it out on Michael. Some part of him recognized that he’d done because he knew Michael wouldn’t retaliate. That Max could work out his issues on someone who knew and understood them and who wouldn’t fight back. The perfect outlet for his anger.

Numbly, he nodded to Alex. “I won’t. I swear.”

Alex searched his face before finally flicking the safety on and tucking his gun away. Max felt his body slump with relief. 

“Where’s Noah?” He asked. Nearby, Isobel tensed and finally turned her glare upon someone else.

“Yes, where is my lovely psychopath of a husband?”

“He’s safe.” Alex told her. 

“Oh I’m not worried about him.” Isobel retorted. 

“He’s locked in a secure facility and we’ve surrounded him in that yellow powder he used to subdue Max and Michael’s powers the other night.” This time it was Cam who answered her and Max turned to her in surprise. She met his gaze but gave away nothing.

“Why did Michael save him?” This time it was Liz. “I know he wanted answers but to go against Max and Isobel’s wishes like that?”

Max watched as Kyle and Alex exchanged glances, seemingly deciding whether or not they should answer her question. He felt his anger rising again.

“If you know something about my brother, you need to tell me.”

Kyle scoffed and Max turned to him. “No offense, Evans, but the way you’ve been treating you ‘brother’,” the way he said it made Max’s stomach turn. Like Max was a fool for calling Michael that, “you don’t deserve to know jack.”

“Since when are you friends with Michael?” Liz asked.

Kyle shrugged. “I’m not. But the guy’s had a pretty terrible day and I’m not going to let any of you make it worse.”

“What the hell happened?” Isobel asked, looking frantically between Kyle and Alex. The two men exchanged another look before Kyle shrugged and gestured that it was Alex’s call.

Alex sighed. “You know about Project Shepherd?” He asked and waited until everyone nodded. “Well we found an old abandoned prison that mine and Kyle’s father’s had taken over as part of the Project and today we went with Michael to investigate it. There had been reports of unusual heat signatures on the compound, outside of normal human range. When we got there, Michael and Kyle found a cell block full of captive aliens from the crash. There had to be at least 50, I’d say.” He paused when Max collapsed into a seat and Isobel gasped with her hands over her mouth. Both stared at him as he continued. “Michael met his mother in there. About five minutes before the facility blew up. It was rigged to self destruct should any alien damage the cells and Michael tried to break them out-” he trailed off as Max’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Did he-?” Liz started to ask.

Alex shook his head. “We couldn’t get anyone out. We barely made it out ourselves and it was all I could do just to get him to leave with me. He wanted to stay.” He admitted. 

“Oh my god,” Isobel let out as she buried her face in her hands. 

Alex cleared his throat. “Anyway, there’s a possibility that there’s another site but it’s very unlikely. Project Shepherd doesn’t have the funding to run two off the books sites like that. So if any of you want to know anything about where you came from or who you really are, then Noah’s your answer.” He shrugged. “Michael needs answers. So he’s going to get them. Until then, Noah stays in a secure facility away from all of you. Once Michael’s learned all that he wants to, you can do what you like with him. But not before.”

Everything in Max revolted at the idea of Alex decreeing how they go about this but he remembered the look in his eyes earlier and stayed in his seat.

“He’s my husband,” Isobel objected. “It’s my decision.”

“It was.” Alex agreed. “You made it already. Just consider this an interlude of sorts. You’ll get him back and when you do, feel free to kill him again.”

Max turned to Cam. “You know where he is.”

“I do.” She agreed. “But I’m not going to tell you.”

“You hated the idea of not turning him in. Of letting him die! How can you support this? Michael will torture him if he has to.”

She stared him in the eyes. “My choices are let Michael interrogate him or let you murder him.” 

Cam didn’t say anything else but she didn’t need to. Max recoiled at the disappointment in her voice and the harsh reality of her words. He was a murderer. Or at the very least, he desperately wanted to be. It was only fair, he reasoned, considering how many people Noah had murdered. Why should he get a fair pass?

Max glanced around the room but found no supporters. Liz, he knew, hated the idea of her science being used as a weapon. Alex, Kyle, and Cam were all firm in their decision to help Michael and Isobel seemed to be coming around to their side of things.

“Iz-”

“No,” she cut him off. “Michael’s wanted answers our whole lives. He has the chance, maybe his only chance, to get them. I won’t stop him.” She clambered to her feet. “Let me know if Michael changes his mind?” She asked Alex to which the man nodded. “And tell him to call me tomorrow. I want to talk to him.”

“I’ll let him know.” 

She nodded and turned to Liz. “Can you drive me home?” Liz nodded and opened the door for her.

As Isobel left, Liz turned to Max. “Come with us. She needs you right now and I don’t think this is the best place for you to be. You can try and talk to Michael tomorrow.”

Max looked around the room one more time before nodding. He stood up and crossed the room. With a hand on the door and one foot out, he turned to Alex. “I love my brother and I would never hurt him. Not really. I just need to talk to him.”

Alex nodded. “I’ll let him know,” he repeated, much less sincere than he had to Isobel. Something told Max he wouldn’t be hearing from Michael for a while. 

“Liz,” he asked after he’d closed the door behind them and made it halfway to their cars, “how do I fix things with Michael?”

She paused and looked at him for a moment. “With time, I think. And actions. You can apologize all you want and say the right things but they don’t mean much if your actions don’t back it up. I know you say Michael’s important to you, but since I’ve been back, I haven’t seen it.” Her voice was cautious, almost apologetic. Liz laid a hand on his arm, her gently touch belying the harsh words. “Any blind idiot can see how much you love Isobel. She really is the most important person in the world to you. But sometimes you treat Michael like he’s an afterthought. Like you’re stuck with him because you all hatched together or something.”

“How can you say that?” Max recoiled. “He’s my brother!”

“So act like it,” Isobel’s voice cut in as she leaned out of the car window. “Starting with leaving and giving him the space he clearly needs right now. Get in the car Max.” Her voice softened. “And start fixing things tomorrow.”

[nomadicsurvivor]

The Meaning of a Date

Day 3 - Dates Just Limit Your Options

I never got the hype of a birthday – what is a date anyway?  It’s a man-made concept of time placed into a man-made structure of months, weeks, days, years.  The construct is to help humans notate the passing of important moments.  The day we were found on the side of the road was named as our “birth date”.  Not that it held much meaning to me.  Even after I returned to Roswell and was reunited with Max and Isobel, our birthday didn’t really hold any special meaning to me.  The three of us would do something together on that day, acknowledge it, but all three of us knew it wasn’t something significant the way it was to other kids, to human kids.  And while the Evans would throw Max and Izzy a party, no one really ever acknowledged mine – I never got a party or a card or anything.  It wasn’t even until I got back to Roswell that I found out that I was missing out on something.

But my 18th birthday, that changed.  Alex had packed a picnic and got me to drive him way out into the desert. It had been a couple months since that day – the tool shed, his dad, Rosa…  We had seen very little of each other since then.  He had seen me protecting a broken hand at school as we entered finals season.  I had seen him protecting his ribs – I could only imagine what colors were under his clothing.  We avoided each other for the most part, but would occasionally run into each other at classroom doors, in the hallways, going in or out of Crashdown.  So imagine my surprise when, those couple months later, he somehow found where my truck was parked behind the grocery store and dropped a backpack and basket in the back of the truck, climbed into the passenger side, and told me to drive – no hello, nothing – just invited himself into my truck and said “drive.”  Which of course I did.

I took up into the back part of the Foster Ranch, occasionally brave enough to glance over at him to watch him look out the passenger window, a small grin on his face as he felt the wind through his hair from the open window.  I’d always keep looking at him when he’d glance back, catching his eyes for that split second before I’d force myself to slowly, casually, look back to the space in front of the truck.  His make-up was gone, as were the piercings.  But he was still exactly how I remembered seeing him over the years, and especially those times recently as we grew closer.  I felt a calm come over me when I was with him – something I can’t say I felt too often growing up around humans.

I drove us to where the rocky outcrops come up out of the ground, and stopped the truck in a small patch of shade.  As the engine ticked down as it cooled, we both just sat in silence for a couple minutes.

“How have you been?  How is your hand?”

“It is what it is I guess.”

He glanced at it, a deep crease of concern across his forehead before looking back out the window.

“Did you go to the doctor?  It doesn’t look good.”

I scoffed. “Alex, I am a runaway from CPS.  Aside from not having insurance or money, I can’t exactly walk into a hospital and not get reported.”

He looked hurt by that, although I don’t know if it was the slightly patronizing tone I took, or the grim reality of my life and what that meant to something like my hand.

“Where have you been staying?  I know you haven’t been back to the tool shed, not that I can blame you.  I don’t honestly know what would happ…….”

I took a deep breath.  “I’ve been staying around.  Crashed a couple nights with Max, otherwise wherever I can park my truck and not be bothered.  Out here quite a bit actually.  It’s warm at night now that it’s summer.”

He nodded.

“But you’re free now, right?”

I looked over at him confused, “What?”

He smirked and instead of answering, opened the door and climbed out of the truck. He grabbed his stuff from the back of the truck and headed towards the rocks, farther into the shade.  I opened my door but didn’t get out of my truck, waiting to see what he was up to.

Alex pulled a blanket out of his backpack and spread it out on the ground, then set the basket down, opened it up and pulled out a bag with the Crashdown logo on it. He then reached back in and pulled out two milkshakes that looked more melted shake than frozen.  Then out came a bag of doritos, followed by a bag of peanut butter M&Ms.  I chuckled and climbed out, sitting down next to him, looking at him questioningly.

Alex looked a bit embarrassed and chuckled, “OK I had to improvise, and had whatever the 7-11 had to select from with a limited budget.”

I laughed, “Alex, I will NOT be complaining about your food selection.”  I didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t really had much more to eat than a snickers in the last day or so. “I guess I’m more confused as to what all this is actually about.  But again, not complaining!”

Alex pulled cheeseburgers and fries from the Crashdown bag.  He pushed one of the burgers towards me.

“When you ran away from home, how long did you have til you turned 18?”

I wasn’t sure where that question was going, and didn’t want to correct him as I so automatically did with Max and Izzy when they’d call a foster placement my home, or say my dad when I’d cut them off with ‘foster father’ or something. Instead, I answered without even thinking about it.

“One year, seven months, sixteen days.  Why?”

Alex’s eyes got big as he quickly did math and realised how long I had been living in my truck before he found me behind the bleachers at school that fateful day.

“Wait, you’ve lived out of your truck for over a year and a half?!”

I shrugged, not sure what to say to that.  He seemed to collect himself quickly, like he was determined to get himself back on whatever track he had been on before my answer threw him off.

“So now you’re free, right?”  He asked this as he pulled a small, thin candle out of the front of the backpack and pushed it into the hamburger bun sitting in front of me.  He then pulled out a lighter and lit the candle.

“Happy 18th Michael.  Make a wish.”

I immediately felt that sting in my eyes and tickle in my nose, but pushed it down, refusing to even let a tear start to form in the corner of an eye.  Leave it to Alex Manes to know what this day was to me. It was the first birthday to me that held any significance to me, yet like all the others, went ignored by the rest of the world.  Max and Isobel had wished me a happy birthday that morning, but they didn’t say anything about what this day meant to my life.  Age eighteen.  No longer a ward of the state.  CPS no longer had to keep tabs on me, wouldn’t put me in another shit placement where I could be abused, neglected, anything.  Completely on my own.  Alone.

Leave it to Alex to instead see it as my liberation, my independence day.

I watched the flame for a moment.

“I think, sitting here, I already got my wish.  I am getting a meal, and I have you.  What else could I ask for?”

Alex blushed and looked down.  “Guerin, you’re not supposed to say what your wish is out loud. Now blow the candle out before it ruins your bun and you can’t eat around the wax.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d eat the wax and all if it meant food.  I just blew it out.  He then reached for a fry and threw it at me.  I tried to catch it in my mouth but it bounced off my nose and landed in the sand next to the blanket.  I grabbed it, blew the sand off, and tossed it into my mouth.

“Michael that still had sand on it!”

“Hey, waste not, want not.”

He shook his head and passed me a melted milkshake.  I paced myself as I ate the burger and fries, trying to play it cool and not give away how hungry I was.  In that year and a half, and long before to be honest, I had learned to pace eating. Make it look like you’re not hungry, that it doesn’t matter.  It kept adults from looking at you with pity, or with anger.  It kept Max and Iz from looking at me like a charity case.  But I could see in Alex’s eyes – he saw through it all.  He knew. It’s probably why he got all the other snacks.

We ate in silence, both afraid to say something to mess the moment up.  Once the slurping sound of straws sucking empty milkshake cups filled the space, we both laughed and stood up.  Alex slowly approached me, looking hesitantly at me before raising his arms to take me into an embrace.  I returned the gesture quickly, pulling him for a hug, taking comfort in the feeling of him around me again, the smell of his hair, his body wash.  I didn’t want to think about what he was smelling from me.  But he didn’t seem to care.

Alex looked into my eyes and went in for a kiss, gentle and a bit tentative.  The last time we did this, it did not end well for either of us.  But we were in my desert, not his tool shed, and his dad was nowhere to be found, so I pushed into his mouth, deepening the kiss.  We stumbled back and fell onto the blanket, laughing as we pushed the empty food wrappers out of the way.  Hands fumbling, groping, running up and down bodies.  Mouths on each other, on necks.  Hands in hair, grabbing the back of necks.  After a few frantic minutes of us reuniting with the electric emotions of two who had been apart too long, we settled into a more caring pace, frantic touches becoming more caressing, more reverent with each other.

Eventually we pulled apart, both panting, trying to catch our breaths.

Alex looked around, “It’s starting to get dark.  We should move to the back of your truck and off the ground.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I don’t think I need to have any scorpions or other critters join us.”

I grabbed the blanket while Alex grabbed the backpack and basket, putting the rest of the snacks back inside.  He tossed them into the cab of the truck while I spread my sleeping bag and blanket out, adding his to the back of the truck.  He came around to the tail gate where I was sitting, my legs swinging back and forth off the back end.  He stilled the movement of my legs and slid between them, leaning forward to capture me in another kiss.

I broke the kiss and started to slide back into the truck, laying down on the blankets, Alex climbing into the truck and following.  Lazy kisses turned into a passionate make out session.  At some point, shirts came off, as did jeans.  In the growing darkness, we jerked each other off, coming together and locking together in a tight embrace.  After several minutes of catching our breaths and slowing our heart rates, we cleaned up and put our jeans back on, leaned back against the cab of the truck, Alex leaning against my chest.  We sat there for who knows how long, fingers touching each other across our chests, up and down his back or my arms.  The stars came out in full force, and soon the glow of the cloud that makes up the Milky Way stood out above us.  Who knows how long we sat there.

Maybe some dates mean something more than others.  Up to today, they limited my options, kept me at the mercy of whatever control CPS put around my life.  But today, this day?

Alex looked up at me before tucking his head back under my chin, leaning against my chest.

“Happy 18th Michael.”

[bytheangell]

This is the Coda that Never Ends... (Chapter 4)

(Read on AO3) (read from the beginning)

Alec is in the middle of a meeting with the Consul as well as several Institute Heads when he gets the fire message. It’s a vital meeting: they’re working out the final details of setting up proper Downworld Councils at Institutes across the world, after seeing the success of the one in New York had within just a few months. These are some of Alec’s favorite places, run by people who are kind enough not only to agree with, but also to trust the changes he’s making in their world.

It’s a lot to ask of a people so rooted in tradition, so set in their ways of following a set of antiquated laws and beliefs with every stubborn cell in their body. He’s met with resistance at almost every turn but if he can just get enough of them to agree to set up a trial run of the council in their own cities he knows this could improve relations between the Nephilim and the Downworlders immensely on a local level. 

He knows he can order every last Institute to put them in place but that isn’t how he wants to do things - he wants change, yes, but he doesn’t want to dictate it. He needs to convince the Nephilim that these are changes that should be happening. He needs to convince them that this is their future so they embrace it, not simply accept it but resent it because it’s forced upon them. Nothing would ever get done that way and he knows it, so the few willing to lead the way with him mean everything right now.

They all hear the sound before they see it, eyes following the note that flies into the room, ready to reach out if it’s meant for them. One by one they relax around the table until it reaches the head, and Alec’s hand shoots out to catch it in front of his face.

Alec,

Sorry this is so last-minute, but it’s an emergency. Jace, Simon and I will be there soon. We need to talk the moment you’re free - let me know if I should come there or meet you at yours.

It’s about Clary.

-Iz

It’s been a while since Alec had to deal with a Clary emergency, which is almost an amusing thought with the immediate memories that flood his mind of the rough start the two of them got off to after her arrival and subsequent trainwreck of influence in his world. But the urgency of the note leaves him on edge, worried over what could have his sister so worked up she can’t even wait for him to get home in a few hours if it can be helped.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Lightwood-Bane?” A voice from across the table asks, and Alec shakes his head having almost forgotten the meeting entirely for a moment.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just give me one moment and we can return to business, my apologies.” He offers them a calm, winning smile before turning Isabelle’s note over and writing onto the back of it.

Izzy,

I can’t cancel this meeting but I’ll be free in an hour. Meet me at home and I’ll portal there the moment I’m free.

Whatever it is, he’s almost positive he doesn’t want it discussed at work with too many ears to potentially overhear. He sends the message off and returns to work, one more hour of discussion and agreements and compromises until they have a plan of action all four Institutes agree to.

It’s huge, and Alec can’t help the bit of a high the win gives him, wishing he could go home and have a drink with Magnus and revel in it for a little while.

Unfortunately, that simply isn’t in the cards for him. Alec reschedules the rest of his afternoon to new appointments over the next few days and mentally prepares himself for whatever he’s about to hear from home. Magnus is in a meeting with a client in Africa so Alec has one of the other warlocks create the portal home for him, arriving to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and three very concerned faces.

“This can’t be good if you’re already making me coffee,” he observes, eyes immediately drawn to Isabelle.

“It isn’t… not good. Technically speaking. Not yet, at least.” She starts. “Oh yes, that was completely reassuring,” he says, warily making his way over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup. “Out with it. What did you do?” Alec asks it as a general question but his gaze lingers longer on Simon and even longer on Jace as he looks between them. “Please tell me you didn’t finally--”

“Why does everyone assume this is my fault?” Jace cuts him off. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bit my fault for being there in the first place, but I was glamoured. And she saw right through it, Alec. And she remembered my name.”

Alec is suddenly very glad he cleared his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. “What happened? Every detail, now.”

“Wow you sure did pick the perfect replacement in Isabelle,” Jace points out when Alec’s reaction is nearly identical to Isabelle’s - the perfect blend of sibling concern and an authoritative need to get a full idea of the situation to properly assess what to do next. But he does as he’s asked, recalling for the third time that night what happened, not leaving out a single detail.

By the end Simon is pacing, Izzy is standing with her arms folded, and Alec’s eyes are wide. “What does it mean? Do you think the Angels’ powers are wearing off?”

Jace shakes his head. “I don’t think they just wear off, not for something as big as this. It isn’t like they just forgot about her. If she’s remembering it has to be because they want her to, right? They’re giving her a second chance?”

Izzy shrugs. “I don’t know… she’s strong, we know she’s capable of things that normal Shadowhunters aren’t. Is it enough to break through a block put in place directly by the Angels?”

“Okay but more importantly, is this going to hurt her? I mean, she had a lot of stuff blocked from her memories. What if it’s too much when it all comes back? What if the Angels punish her for it?”

All eyes turn to Alec, and he feels them on him like a physical weight. It’s why they came here, after all: hoping he’d have all the answers. Or at least a better idea than they have at the moment. This isn’t something the can fix on their own and they want his help. Or maybe they don’t want it, but they need it. Either way, they came here for answers, and he hates the answer he has to give them now.

“I don’t know.” The moment the words leave his lips he can see the disappointment register on their faces.  “I don’t know what to tell you about any of it, really. I’m just the Inquisitor, I don’t have a direct line to Raziel. Just… okay, as long as she doesn’t remember anything specific, she’s fine for now. She isn’t about to come knocking on the door of the Institute, or stumbling across a stele and drawing herself some crazy new rune, right?”

They all shake their heads, but don’t look entirely convinced. And that’s when he realizes that the truth is none of them know what to do about Clary, much the way they hadn’t when she first arrived in their lives, either. She was always a problem to solve, always an enigma.

At least some things never changed.

“We’ll need to keep someone on her. Not you, Jace,” Alec adds quickly. “I’m sorry, but we all know what your connection to her is like. We can’t risk it breaking any more of the block than it already has.” Alec pauses, frowning. “In fact… it can’t be any of you. Iz, you know best who you can trust with this back home. Just someone to keep tabs on her, make sure she isn’t seeing any more of things she shouldn’t be, or drawn to places she shouldn’t be. The more time we can buy with this, the better.”

Simon raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to report it?” He asks, and the hopeful told in his voice betrays the fact that that’s exactly what he’d been afraid of Alec doing up until now. And Alec had to admit the thought crossed his mind more than once - after all, with the delicate nature of the work he has going, getting caught covering up something like this could ruin him before he ever had a chance to really get started. 

But there's nothing to tell, he convinces himself. She remembered a name, hardly a matter of Shadow World Security. 

“No.” Alec says, adding quickly when he sees just how easily Simon’s face lights up, “Not yet. If the wrong people find out, even if she doesn’t remember much right now, they’ll want to do something about it before she does. And Clary doesn’t deserve that. Not after everything she sacrificed for us.” The fact that he doesn’t say exactly what the ‘something’ in question might be only makes the potential result sound that much more ominous. And that’s the point. He doesn’t want them to panic but he can’t have them taking this lightly, either.

“Thanks, Alec.” Izzy says, the words a sigh of relief. “I already have Underhill keeping an eye on her through surveillance.”

Alec smiles. “Looks like you already have this under control. You hardly needed my advice.”

“Maybe you’re just slacking now that you’re out of the field for so long. Maybe next time you come to visit we’ll throw you out at a rogue vampire den,” Jace jokes, walking over to clap Alec on the shoulder.

Alec leans into the motion with a wistful sigh. “You have no idea how much I’d love that right now, actually.”

Izzy shakes her head, and the three of them head towards the door to head back to New York. “Tell Magnus we said hi, and that we miss him! You two better come visit soon!”

“It’s only been two weeks, Iz,” Alec points out.

“That’s two weeks too long,” his sister counters, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Well, not that we needed an excuse, but we have a good enough one now. I’ll talk to him when he gets back and see when we can come by and figure more of this out.”

They exchange hugs, Alec even allowing Simon to say his goodbye with outstretched arms and a too-tight embrace that he’s positive is entirely on purpose.

Once they’re gone Alec heads over to the drink cart and pours himself something a little stronger than coffee, sitting down to think over everything he just heard. Clary remembering, that’s one thing. But the Angels actively forgiving her? That holds implications of its own that none of them are ready to consider just then.

He can’t wait for Magnus to get home to talk this through with. If anyone would know how to deal with returning blocked memories, it’d be the warlock who blocked them from that same person her whole life.

How convenient that warlock happened to be his husband.

[angsty-nerd]

Fictober #30

#30. I’m with you. You know that.

Roswell, NM Fanfiction. The PENULTIMATE FICTOBER FIC!!

Set in the middle of episode 1x08...between Liz running off after Max asking her if she can make the cure, and Michael finding her channeling her inner Rosa. The Pod Squad chats at the hospital.

Liz rushed from the hospital room, leaving Max, Michael, and Isobel alone. Max was still sweating, his stomach heaving, as he tried to recover from his failed attempts to heal his sister. Isobel lay in the bed, occasionally coughing, but generally just raggedly breathing. Of the three of them, only Michael seemed coherent enough to be able to manage the situation.

"Michael…" Max gasped out at him. "Go run interference with Noah. See if you can keep him out of here for a little while until…"

Michael nodded cursely and left the room. Once he was gone, Max staggered his way back across the room to the chair at Isobel's bedside. He slid a hand over hers, trying to comfort her as best he could.

"Max," Isobel gasped out. Her voice sounded pained.

"Shh." He replied. "You don't need to talk. Get some rest while you can."

"But I just...Max, why did you tell Liz the truth. About Rosa." Isobel coughed weakly. "What if she had reported me to the police, or the government or something. We could all be locked up right now."

Max sighed. "She deserved the truth." He told her. "And anyway, I didn't tell her, really. She figured it out for herself."

"But you wanted to." Isobel pointed out to him, and Max could only nod. "Yeah. Then and now."

Michael suddenly swept back into the room, a bundle of energy compared to Max and Isobel.

"I convinced Noah to go home and get some stuff to make Isobel more comfortable. It'll maybe buy us an hour. At most."

"Thanks," Max said with a nod.

Michael pulled up a chair next to Max and joined them.

"So what's it like? Being sick?"

Max raised his head and glared at Michael.

"I don't think hearing about it is gonna help anything." Max interjected.

"No, it's fine." Isobel told him. "I don't mind talking about it."

Isobel paused and took a few slow breaths, before continuing. "It's like...I'm exhausted and weak, like everything is hard. Not just, like, doing things. Talking and breathing and just...existing... it's all hard." She had to stop and breathe for a moment, before continuing. "And everything hurts. And it feels like there's something stuck in my throat trying to claw its way out, but no matter how much blood I cough up there's always more."

Max could barely listen. He stood up and paced away from the bed, trying to take a moment to process. It hurt to hear her describe it, and it made him angry, and frustrated. He felt helpless and weak since he was unable to do anything to save his sister. And a part of him felt guilty too, since he was the one who told Liz to keep the serum. He never imagined that Isobel would pull a stunt like this.

"Max, come sit down," Isobel pleaded. As mad as he was at her, he couldn't deny her anything while she was so unwell, so he did as she asked.

"So I want to know something," Isobel said weakly to him. "Why did you save Liz, Max? What is it about her?"

Max ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, and glanced at each of his siblings. He wasn't used to talking about Liz with them. Especially with Isobel. It felt odd to even consider it. At least back in high school he and Michael used to talk about girls, a little. Isobel never really understood how deep his feelings for Liz ran, so he usually just kept them hidden from her. He tried to consider how to explain in a way that she might understand.

"So you know how we always say that we three are stuck here alone together? And then when Isobel got married, that kind of changed things for you because now it was the three of us, and Noah?" Michael and Isobel both nodded. "Well, the truth is that I've always been lying when I say that it's just the three of us, because it's never been that way for me. It's always been the three of us and Liz."

"Always?" Isobel asked softly.

"Always." Max confirmed. "I've loved her since the first time I laid eyes on her. We were eight years old. I don't think I even understood love at that age. But she's always been the only one. Honestly, I don’t think I'm even capable of falling in love with anyone else."

"So when we sent her away after high school…" Isobel started.

"...it broke my heart." Max admitted. His statement hung out in the air for a long moment as Michael and Isobel considered what he said. It was Michael who broke the silence first.

"We're not gonna apologize for sending her away, Max. You were a mess even before she left. Isobel and I were protecting all three of our lives, and I was particularly thinking about keeping Isobel safe and out of jail. I still think it was the right thing to do."

"I'm sorry it hurt you so much." Isobel interjected softly. "I could see it at the time and I knew it was because of me. I wish there had been another way."

"Look, just do me a favor and stay out of it this time?" Max requested. "I don't know what's going to happen here. Liz knows everything now, and yes, she told Kyle the truth, but having him as a resource is already helpful. Liz didn't turn Isobel in and she's off in her lab right now trying to create a cure for Isobel even though she knows the truth about Rosa. She's…" Max just shook his head, unable to finish the thought because he couldn't quite put into words how amazed he was by her actions.

"Like I said, I don't know where this is going to go, but I'd like a chance to let it okay out. Maybe it'll go somewhere. Or maybe she'll just stay a close friend that I feel a little too much for. Hell, she could leave town again and it'll all be for nothing. But just don't intervene again. Please."

Michael suddenly stood up, pushing his chair back to the wall. "Speaking of Liz, I think I'll go check on her progress. You guys good?" Michael asked. Max and Isobel both nodded, so Michael took off, leaving them alone once again.

"Max, if I survive this I promise I won't mess with Liz again." Isobel swore weakly. She coughed, blotting at her mouth with the tissue in her hand. "I’m with you. You know that, Max."

"Yeah," Max agreed, smiling softly at his sister. "I know, Iz."

[umbralogia]

i wrote fluff for once in my life!!! takes place after 3x14.

(read on ao3) 

Izzy is still pouring over the results of Greenlaw’s autopsy when her phone vibrates against the table. She pulls off her gloves and takes the opportunity to tuck some hair behind her ears and out of her face before she checks it.

A new text from Alec-- ‘Are you busy, right now?’

She frowns at the screen just a little and sends back a quick, ‘No.’ before picking up her pen and tapping it against her fingers like she has been for the past hour or so. She goes over the information she knows for sure--

Greenlaw died because of what he was going to tell her. The Clave killed him. Heavenly Fire is an operation from the days of the Circle. The Clave has been torturing downworlders and somehow, this is all linked to the little chip she found in Greenlaw’s stomach.

Her phone vibrates again, which is almost weird because Alec usually takes twenty minutes to respond to a text, even when he isn’t doing anything.

‘Can you meet me in the courtyard?’

Her frown deepens. She really doesn’t want to leave Greenlaw’s body unaccompanied and the last thing she wants to do is leave the chip out of her sight. She finds a little evidence bag in one of the utensil drawers and thanks the Angel for Luke and his brilliant thinking before tucking the chip inside and then placing it in her phone case.

Alec sends another text before she turns out the lights-- ‘Iz, please. I’m cold.’

She sends back a quick, ‘keep your pants on’ and walks a little quicker through the halls and into the greenhouse. Even stepping inside makes her think of Jace-- it’s a Lightwood family secret to ignore how well the greenhouse is maintained, and to not at all question the dirt on Jace’s hands.

She reminds herself that if Alec was truly in trouble, he’d be texting Jace, and not her. Jace was always the one to send her weird messages at odd times of the night, asking her how long to microwave leftovers or how magnets work.

Alec can’t be falling apart, she tells herself, because if he was Jace would be at her side already. She slips out the back exit of the greenhouse and into the Institute’s courtyard. She can hear talking and follows the noise until she finds Alec and Magnus, both snickering over something before they see her.

Magnus has a box sitting on the bench, his foot resting there as well, he’s holding Alec’s phone in his hand and tapping it nervously against his thigh. Alec is holding a box with one on the ground at his feet, still smiling when Izzy approaches.

“You said you need help?” She can’t help but wonder what the boxes are for and what they contain. Her mind immediately wanders to parties, but the only part she can imagine throwing is a Welcome Back party, or maybe a You Survived party for Clary.

Whatever it is, she’s sure it’s Magnus’s idea.

“Yeah, Magnus… needs a place to stay tonight, and I have to sneak him in.”

She has to give her mind a second to catch what he’s said before she can even begin to react. Izzy blinks and shifts her stance. “You, you’re sneaking him in?”

“Yeah, and you’re an expert at sneaking out, so I need your help.” Alec looks a little too defensive for her to try and persuade him otherwise. She knows from experience that she can only win with Alec if he’s already exhausted.

Izzy looks to Magnus for his opinion, and he only smiles a little bit, obviously not enthused at the idea. “You’re the Head of the Institute, can’t you use the Clave’s credit card or something?”

“What would I write on the expense report?” Alec asks, moving the box carefully in his arms.

She laughs a little, but only because this feels… exhilarating in the worst way. “Make something up? Say Magnus is a protected witness.”

“For what case?”

“Make one up.”

Alec tilts his head a little and Izzy sighs a little. She knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Her brother is the most stubborn person on the face of the planet.

She picks up the box at Alec’s feet and shifts it a little so she can rest it against her hip with her arm over the top of it. “You’re the Head of the Institute, you could just… stroll in there.” She reminds him.

“Personally, I prefer staying at a hotel.” Magnus adds as they start towards the Institute. “I’ve been looking for a good reason to return to the Ritz.”

“It’s a thousand dollars a night.” Alec says in a dejected tone that almost breaks her heart. She’s never heard him sound like that, soft and disappointed, but only slightly. It’s like he’s forgotten she’s there in front of him, struggling to get her stele out of her pocket so she can draw a quick unlock rune.

Magnus jiggles the door handle of the greenhouse entrance anyway and looks at the large panes of glass like he half expects better. He opens the door for them when Izzy manages to draw the rune correctly, and Alec holds the door open for him.

“Okay, so, Magnus stays here.” Izzy says, setting her box down in one of the chairs.

“You’re kidding.” Magnus frowns at one of the large fronds and runs his fingers over it like he’s stroking a cat.

“It’ll be so much easier to stash these boxes somewhere and then come and sneak you in. Sneaking you in with the boxes is going to make it incredibly obvious. If we get caught without them, we’ll just say we’re on our way to Alec’s office.” Izzy looks at the two of them and sees the small smile on both of their faces. They’re enjoying this far too much.

She can remember the countless nights Alec had caught her sneaking out to go clubbing or Angel knows what else. His room was always on the way to the greenhouse from her room. It was the path least likely to be populated at strange hours of the night.

It all brings back giddy feelings of rebellion, although she isn’t rebelling against her uptight mother. Instead, they’re rebelling against Clave statutes that outlaw offering downworlders lodgings that aren’t a cell. She’s glad that at least in some weird form, Alec can finally have the chance to live life the way his inner sixteen year old wants.

Magnus settles down into one of the chairs and rests his foot on his knee. “I’ll be waiting ever so patiently.” He offers Alec his box which Alec gently adds on top of the one in his hands.

Izzy is still smiling on their way through the hall to Alec’s room. “You know, Jace would’ve helped you without asking.”

“Jace and Magnus are… not great right now.” Alec says quietly, carefully avoiding the edge of the corner as they make their way up the small set of stairs.

She knows he’s right and she wishes he wasn’t. If Alec had asked Jace, maybe they would’ve managed to work something out, or talked through something before smuggling Magnus inside. She also knows that if Alec had asked Jace, they would’ve gotten caught before making it to the living quarters.

Alec opens the door to his room and Izzy catches the door before it can close on her. They set the boxes down on the floor by the dresser. The boxes are intriguing and Izzy almost wants to lift the flap until she reminds herself that Magnus is Alec’s boyfriend, not hers. If it’s something truly interesting, Alec will share it with her at some point.

“Okay, you stay here.” She tells her brother and almost closes the door before he can stop her, but he does.

“Why?”

It’s not that Alec is too loud, although he can be without being aware of it. Izzy needs to know why Magnus is waiting in the greenhouse, why they’re sneaking him into the Institute, and it’s always easier to get answers from Magnus than from Alec. She gives him the same head tilt he had given her earlier. “Do you want me to sneak Magnus in or not?”

He lets go of the door without another word and lets her close it quietly behind her.

Magnus is exactly as she left him, reclining on the world’s most uncomfortable bench picking at his flawless black nail polish. He smiles and stands as soon as he sees her.

“Do I want to know what you’ve done with the real Alec?” She asks as Magnus follows her into the hall of the Institute. Izzy lingers a little, checking around the corner of the main hall to look for the traffic of the mostly quiet Ops Center.

They hurry down the hall until it opens into another cloister.

“I think Lorenzo jinxed him when Alec went to go put the fear of god into him.” Magnus whispers, following her every move. He carefully places a hand on the wall and lets his fingers trail against the wallpaper as Izzy leads him towards Alec’s room.

She turns back to glance at him before checking the hall again. “Why was Alec trying to scare Lorenzo?”

“Long story, short-- we made an exchange. He has my apartment.” Magnus matches her pace and straightens as they walk up the small set of stairs, looking like two normal people engaged in a normal conversation.

Izzy is too afraid to ask what Magnus has exchanged his apartment for. She figures that’s part of why Alec seemed so on edge. The only other reason… she closes her eyes for a long second.

“So, those boxes were yours. Please don’t tell me it’s anything,” Izzy can’t continue the thought in her head, she can’t bring herself to say what comes to her mind. The last conversation she had had with Alec about Magnus was about… things that she doesn’t want to think of them getting caught doing in the Institute.

Magnus frowns and draws out the word, expecting her to continue her original thought. “Anything?”

“Naughty.” She blurts out and Magnus laughs a little too loud. All thoughts of sex are out the window and she almost slaps a hand over his mouth to keep him from making anymore noise.

They stand there in absolute silence, Magnus trying his damndest to contain his laughter behind a solemn face. Izzy feels like she’s outed Alec’s worries about intimacy to Magnus until he manages to speak without laughing.

“You think I brought boxes of what into the Institute?” Magnus is only blushing a little, and Izzy can tell that he’s only embarrassed because he nearly ruined their mission.

She can’t find it in her to satisfy him with a response other than, “Just… know that I share a wall with Alec.”

“Valuable information to have.”

They cross the hall quickly and Izzy is first to open the door to Alec’s room. He’s sitting on the bed, in a position that makes it obvious he had been watching the door waiting for them. Magnus relaxes once the door closes behind them.

“Thank you, Isabelle.” Magnus says with a kind smile, somehow banishing the conversation that has still left her pink in the face.

She gives Alec a look of warning as Magnus crosses the room and flops down on the other side of the bed. “Don’t get caught.” She says simply, and closes the door behind her.

Izzy glances at the door to her own bedroom and contemplates sleeping, but Alec and Magnus deserve their privacy, even if Magnus does soundproof the wards, or whatever else he’s capable of.

She takes the hairband from her wrist and pulls her locks up into a ponytail, then returns to her lab.

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 43

read chapter one

read on ao3

“So, what does Alec Lightwood do on his birthday,” Magnus asks as they round the corner. It’s a warm day, no matter that it is mid September, and Magnus is glad that he’d taken the time to swing by his place and change before heading to Alec’s.

He has a moment to wonder when they became one of those couples-- walking in sync, Alec’s arm is around his shoulders while he pulls Alec closer with an arm around his waist.

It’s all so delightfully domestic that he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“What do you mean?”

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s dry, confused tone, Magnus scoffs. “Come on,” he says, nudging Alec’s hip with his own. “Everyone knows that Alec Lightwood enjoys the hell out of a good party. I can only imagine the ante when it’s for your own birthday. So, what are we doing? Did you rent out a club for the evening? Are we flying to some devastatingly expensive resort for the weekend? I’m game for anything, darling.”

Alec laughs and out of the corner of his eye, Magnus sees the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement. “Well, you’re in for a treat if you’re expecting-- what? Hundred dollar bills raining from the ceiling and a thousand of my closest friends?”

Magnus’s voice is prim as he merely offers, “You do have a reputation, Alexander, and I’d hate for you to deprive yourself on my account.”

It’s Alec’s turn to scoff. “I’m not depriving myself of anything when I’m with you.” He shrugs a little before pulling Magnus closer and placing a quick kiss on his hair. His voice is quiet, contemplative, when he continues, “The truth is, I’m excited to have my birthday in New York. I can’t remember the last time I was in town for it.”

“So, does that mean you’re finally going to tell me how we’re celebrating? You’ve had me on tenterhooks since your cryptic text a few days ago. Dress for fun. That’s all you sent. Do you know how many different types of fun there are? Too many to enumerate right now, that’s for sure, but let me assure you that you would have been more helpful had you just given me the weather forecast-- which I could look up on my own.”

Humming a little, Alec looks over at him and Magnus feels the heat in his gaze as he’s treated to a thorough onceover. “I’d say you did pretty good,” Alec says, voice low. His eyes linger on the long, silver necklace resting against bare skin. “I like that shirt.”

“This old thing,” Magnus asks with a little smirk.

Alec just glares. “You know you’re irresistible no matter what you wear, but you look particularly good tonight.”

“Thank you, darling.” Magnus’s voice is soft, though still teasing, as he replies.

He’s not wearing anything particularly alluring, though he’d chosen to forgo buttoning up the black and white patterned shirt in the spirit of the evening. His black jeans, tucks into ankle boots, were one of his favorite pairs-- he knows his ass looks fantastic in them and he’s very much looking forward to Alec peeling him out of them at the end of the night.

As they their way through Manhattan, Magnus pretends he doesn’t see the avid reporters across the street. They aren’t bothering them per se, but they’re conspicuous enough all the same.

He’s careful not to make direct eye contact with any of the vultures but Alec still follows his gaze only for his expression to darken once he sees what’s grabbed Magnus’s attention. “Ignore them,” he growls and while a part of Magnus is still annoyed and the tiniest bit apprehensive at this very public outing of theirs, most of him curls into the warmth in Alec’s voice, the cavalier disregard for any onlookers attractive, if-- in Magnus’s opinion-- a bit unrealistic.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Magnus replies easily, blatantly lying. He’s not quite sure what’s going on. He’s not nervous; he’s not afraid. He’s just aware of the half dozen photographers and he’s not used to feeling like a fly under a magnifying glass.

He can admit to himself that it’ll take a little getting used to, the idea that he’s not just Magnus Bane anymore but Magnus Bane, boyfriend to famous Alec Lightwood.

Alec turns to him with a raised brow and doesn’t say anything for a moment as he considers him. “Second thoughts,” he asks quietly and his expression makes it clear that there’s no wrong answer.

Which Magnus appreciates but today is Alec’s birthday and what are a couple of flies on the wall when he has a beautiful, interesting, wonderfulman to entertain for an evening.

He stops them on the sidewalk and turns until he’s standing in front of Alec. They get a few dirty looks at interrupting the evening stream of foot traffic but Magnus easily blocks those stares out.

Smoothing his hands over Alec’s chest, Magnus leans close.

“No second thoughts here. I just don’t know how you’re so relaxed about your constant move being followed and recorded.”

Hands easing under the hem of his shirt, Alec hooks his fingers on Magnus’s belt loops and urges him closer.

He shrugs. “You just get used to it. If I noticed every time a pap was looking my way, I would’ve gone insane years ago. Are you sure you’re okay? We can hail a taxi right here, right now and not have to deal with anyone. Whatever makes you comfortable, babe.”

Shaking his head a little, Magnus tilts his head up and lays a kiss on Alec’s jaw. “I’m fine,” he repeats before leaning back to meet his boyfriend’s warm eyes. “I guess this just means that you’ll have to keep me around for a little while, let me get used to things.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d love more,” Alec murmurs before kissing him. It’s nothing too heated but it is a declaration of sorts. Wryly, Alec reflects that he can almost hear the shutter of cameras across the street as the reporters desperately try to capture every millisecond of action.

With the way Magnus relaxes into him, Alec lets himself sink into the hope that’s been flaring up the past couple of months that they can really do this-- Magnus won’t run screaming at intrusive press and watchful stares.

Pulling away, Alec links their hands and walks past Magnus, whirling around to take a few backward steps.

Grinning, he tugs on their laced hands, and Magnus follows with a laugh. “Come on,” he says. “We don’t want to be late.”

The two of them continue on their evening stroll and Magnus’s curiosity is piqued. It’s only when they round the last corner a few blocks down that he finally realizes where they’re headed.

As Alec slows to a stop in front of the door to Uptown Java, Magnus raises a brow. “We’re spending your birthday at Luke’s coffee shop?”

“Yup,” Alec replies with a smile. “Nothing in public, just friends and games and way too much wine.”

Laughing, Magnus urges him on. “Lead the way then, darling.”

While the sign was turned over to close, the door swings open easily as Alec pulls it. Ushering Magnus inside, Alec follows and he’s filled with something light and happy as he sees what Luke’s done to the place.

There are streamers all around and bunches of balloons. There are a few board games already set up at tables around the place and the counter is covered in a couple dozen bottles of alcohol. Food runs along one side of the shop and Alec belatedly remembers that he hasn't eaten since breakfast.

What really gets him, though, is everyone waiting for their arrival. Jace, Max, and Izzy are front and center and he sees his mom helping Luke with last minute arrangements on the far side of the room.

Simon is holding an obnoxiously large balloon and Raphael stands next to him looking put upon, though Alec is fairly sure that it’s mostly for show. Catarina and Ragnor are talking to an enthusiastic Madzie. Getting refills, Clary and Maia are chatting at the makeshift bar and it’s just what Alec wanted-- something lowkey with only those closest around.

Alec’s done the birthdays where he didn’t know anyone except Iz and Jace. He’s celebrated with drunk strangers and he’s celebrated in foreign locales that were exciting and new and everything he’d wanted at the time.

Now, though, he wants this. An evening with friends and family and Magnus.

He looks over at his boyfriend, wondering at what he’s thinking. He wonders if Magnus really was just joking earlier of if he’s disappointed that Alec doesn’t have more thrilling plans.

To his relief, Magnus is grinning as he shares a look with Raphael before glancing at Alec. “While I must admit that I’m surprised, darling, I’m very much looking forward to kicking your ass at Jenga.”

Alec merely raises an unimpressed brow. “You think you can beat me at Jenga?” He snorts. “You wish.”

Part of Alec just said that to see the competitive gleam light in Magnus’s eyes and he’s not disappointed. Before they can head to one of the tables, though, Alec’s attention is caught on his siblings.

“Happy birthday, hermano!” Isabelle closes the distance between them and envelopes Alec in a bone crushing hug.

Wrapping his arms around Izzy, Alec sways them side to side a few times before leaning back until Isabelle’s feet come off the ground. At her squeal-- which reminds him of when they were so much younger-- he laughs before putting her back down.

Stepping back, Alec goodnaturedly accepts as his sister put a birthday crown on his head, complete with pink feathers and fake plastic diamonds.

He just sighs as she throws a sash over his head to complete the look.

There’s a round of happy birthday wishes from everyone and then they’re splitting into groups. Magnus and Alec take a detour to the bar and while Alec chooses a glass of moscato to start the evening, Magnus makes his own Old Fashioned.

Maryse and Luke join Catarina and Ragnor at one of the tables and play cards while Madzie persuades Simon and Raphael to play Chutes and Ladders. Clary and Maia, already tipsy, are playing a half-assed game of Twister in the corner in between shots.

Everyone else gathers around the Jenga table. Alec grins a little as he helps set up the tower of bricks. He catches Jace’s eye and laughs outright as his brother just glares at him menacingly.

Looking up from where he’s straightening the tower, Magnus quirks a brow at everyone’s expression. “Am I missing something?”

Jace doesn’t let up on his glare as he simply replies, “Alec is the reigning champ of Jenga in the Lightwood house. It’s been years since anyone was able to beat him.”

“He’s a cheat, too,” Max tacks on gleefully. He doesn’t seem to notice Alec’s eye roll. “When I was little he always helped me by suggesting which brick I should pull. I was too dumb to know he was sabotaging me.”

“All’s fair in love and board games, Max. I was teaching you valuable life lessons.” Alec’s voice is prim and he wishes his siblings would just shut up and start the game. His strategy’s always foolproof and he’s looking forward to beating Magnus at his own game.

Izzy snorts. “Please. Alec’s child’s play compared to Jace.”

She turns to Magnus, leans in confidentially. “Don’t trust anyone at this table. Alec’s a little more blatant about his cheating but Jace has a habit of “accidentally” knocking into the table whenever it’s not his turn and Max picks the hardest bricks so that if he succeeds then the person after him almost always goes down.”

Magnus laughs. “What about you, dear? Don’t say that you’re the only straitlaced one in the bunch.”

Isabelle grins but it’s sharp. “Oh no,” she reassures Magnus. “You think I’d win as often as I do if I didn’t cheat with these people? But I can’t tell you how or you’d see me coming from a mile away.”

Shaking his head a little, Magnus just returns, “Well, at least I have an idea of what I’m getting myself into.”

“Alright, enough talking,” Alec finally cuts in, taking a quick sip of moscato. “Time to play.”

He goes first and picks a brick from the bottom layer. They go round the circle, each tapping out a brick before placing it on top of the increasingly unstable tower. Alec watches as Magnus easily chooses bricks on the outer edges-- it mirrors Alec’s own approach and he grins into his wine glass.

The first game last almost half an hour. There’s a fair bit of ribbing and trash talk and when Jace breathes too hard during his turn, Magnus merely turns to him and asks politely, “Jackson, if you please, when it’s my turn, breathe through your nose or not at all.”

Everyone cracks up and Alec actually has tears in his eyes at Jace’s affronted expression. Alec gets up for another glass of wine halfway through and brings back another drink for Magnus. When Isabelle glares at him and pointedly looks at her own empty margarita glass, he just shrugs.

“Boyfriend perks,” he explains. Sitting down, he hands the drink over to Magnus, who leans in for a quick kiss and murmured thanks.

Izzy rolls her eyes but stands up without a word. She just so happens to knock her chair into the table though, during Jace’s turn no less, and as the pile of haphazard bricks come crashing down Jace looks up at her, wounded.

“You did that on purpose,” he accuses.

Isabelle just flips her hair over her shoulder and smiles. “Prove it.”

The group laughs as Jace’s shoulders slump in defeat.

The next few hours fly by and Alec gets progressively tipsier. He plays Candyland with Madzie and loses embarrassingly fast. She gives him a hug in commiseration but he hears her at the food table a few minutes later telling Simon and Clary about how bad he’d lost.

He’s smiling, shaking his head a little as he hears her shamelessly exaggerate, when someone plops down next to him on the couch. He looks over and sees Magnus as he leans into him.

“How are you enjoying your birthday, Alexander?”

Humming a little, Alec looks around the coffee shop before he shifts, resting his head on top of Magnus’s. “I’m having a great time,” he says honestly. “What about you?”

“Well,” Magnus starts, laying a hand on Alec’s thigh and sweeping his thumb in broad strokes over his jeans. “I’ve had some pizza and quite a few drinks. I beat Simon at Uno four times before he gave up and Ragnor barely beat me at Scrabble a few minutes ago. And I’m here with you,” he tacks on at the end. “I’d say I’m having a pretty great time, too.”

“Good,” Alec says. His eyes slipping shut as Magnus’s warmth seeps into him. He’s lost track of how much wine he’s had tonight but he feels buzzed, a little floaty. He feels good, really good.

“Are you falling asleep on me, Alexander?” Magnus’s voice is teasing yet quiet. Alec makes some noise of confirmation and he feels more than hears Magnus laugh.

“I’m wine drunk,” he replies. “I always get a little sleepy when I’ve had a bottle of wine.”

“Well in that case, just try not to snore. We are in public, after all.”

“Hey,” Alec says defensively, rubbing his cheek against Magnus’s hair. “I don’t snore.”

He hears Magnus mutter under his breath something about his hair but it’s drowned out as everyone else starts cheering obnoxiously. Blinking open his eyes, Alec sees everyone much closer than they’d been before. He doesn’t get a chance to ask what the hell is going on before the door to the kitchen is being swung open and Luke enters the room holding a giant cake.

Grinning, Alec straightens up and both he and Magnus stand as Luke carefully makes his way to the table nearest them.

Everyone starts singing a hilariously off tune rendition of Happy Birthday and Alec smiles as the cake is set down in front of him with twenty seven blazing candles in a rainbow of colors.

As the song ends Alec closes his eyes and sinks into the moment. He’s twenty seven and for the first time in longer than he’d care to admit, he feels good. He has everything he always wanted-- and some things he didn’t even know he wanted-- and as he scrambles to think of a wish, Alec feels everyone’s eyes on him, waiting.

With a deep breath, Alec decides on his wish and leans towards the cake, blowing out the candles. He manages to blow every single one out on the first breath and when he opens his eyes, the first face he sees is Magnus.

Magnus is clapping and smiling with everyone else and as Alec thinks over his wish, he’s filled with a desperate need for it to come true.

Only time will tell, he wonders wryly.

Everyone gets their cake and ice cream and retreats to smaller groups. The room is filled with the pleasant din of half a dozen simultaneous conversations and as Alec heads up to the counter for yet another glass of wine, Jace and Izzy join him.

“He fits in, doesn’t he?”

Alec upends the last of the bottle into his glass and looks over at Jace, confused. “Who?”

Jace just rolls his eyes as he reaches for three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “Who, he asks. The dumbass,” Jace mutters under his breath before punching him in the shoulder.

Alec doesn’t get to say anything before his brother’s clarifying, “Magnus, obviously, you idiot.”

Looking out at the rest of the room, Alec sees Magnus playing checkers with Maryse. The two of them are the picture of concentration, though he watches as Magnus must make some quip and his mother throws back her head in laughter.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “He does, doesn’t he?”

Isabelle’s voice breaks into his reverie. “So things are good between you two? You certainly were cozy on that couch before the cake came out.”

Alec glares with little heat at her, though even he can admit it’s half-assed. “Yeah, we’re good. Better than good,” he adds with a little smile.

“Just how serious are things between you?”

“Why,” Alec asks with a raised brow.

“Just wondering,” is Jace’s stellar response and Izzy snorts into her margarita.

Eyeing his siblings, Alec slowly says, “It’s as serious as it can be for where we’re at. We’re going on a trip next month.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Isabelle is screeching. “Oh my gosh, Alec, that’s awesome! Where are you going?”

Lowing his voice a little, Alec leans towards Jace and Izzy. “It’s a surprise, but I’ve booked a long weekend in Florence.”

Jace blinks. “Holy shit, bro, that’s nice as hell.”

Alec just shrugs. “I love the city but I’ve never been there with anyone before. I thought it’d be nice to take Magnus and enjoy a few days away from everything.”

“So, you’re pretty serious then if you’re whisking him away for vacations abroad.”

Alec can’t help the dopey little grin from spreading across his face, though he does duck and try to hide his expression to no avail.

“I don’t know what was worse,” Jace jokes. “Having to deal with you before you got your shit together or having to witness the way you turn sappy as fuck whenever we talk about Magnus.”

“Don’t listen to him, Alec. You deserve this and I love seeing you happy and the two of you happy together.”

“It’s going pretty well,” Alec allows. “We’ve dealt with some shit but everything’s looking pretty damn perfect right now.”

“I’m happy for you, Alec. Let’s make a toast!”

Jace straightens from where he was pouring the three shots of tequila and passes one each to Isabelle and Alec.

Alec takes his with a grimace and privately reflects that tequila is the worst liquor for shots. But, alas, he just never goddamn learns and he reaches for a lime and the salt with grim determination.

“To Alec,” Jace starts. “Happy birthday to the best brother ever. Let’s hope the next year is as eventful as the last.”

Carefully clinking the shot glasses, Isabelle echoes the toast before they’re all throwing back Jose Cuervo Silver.

Alec wants to die immediately but he resolutely clamps down on the lime wedge and sucks on it until his eyes stop watering.

Isabelle just grins at him, looking unaffected. “You never could take tequila, could you?”

“Yes,” Alec rasps. “And you both know that, you dicks.”

Jace and Izzy laugh and before he quite knows what’s happened, the trio has taken another shot.

They leave Alec alone at the bar after that and Alec watches with a thoughtful look as Iz heads straight over to where Maia’s been talking to Catarina. He sees the way Maia lights up as Isabelle wraps her arms around her neck and leans down for a quick kiss.

“They do make a cute couple,” Magnus comments idly. He’d come over when Alec was, presumably, in the throws of a tequila blackout.

“Yeah,” he agrees absently. “I’ve never seen her so happy with anyone else.”

Looking over, Alec’s eyes trail the flush over Magnus’s cheeks, the way his mouth curves into a lazy smile.

“Having a good time,” he asks softly.

“The best,” Magnus confirms. He straightens the birthday crown on Alec’s head before asking, “Ready to open your presents?”

Lighting up, Alec nods. “Let’s go,” he exclaims and takes Magnus’s hand over to one of the larger sitting areas.

Everyone gathers round as Alec starts with the first of a dozen presents.

Madzie had shoved hers into his hands as soon as he’d sat down and as Alec tears the paper away to reveal a pair of mittens and a drawing of him with the rest of her family. He studies the drawing, done in crayon, and his heart feels fit to bursting. When he holds up the mittens, though, his expression morphs into something curious.

“It’s September, Madz. I love them but why the mittens?”

Matter of factly, she just replies, “You’re always holding Magnus’s hand so I thought you were always cold. These are to keep you warm.”

Everyone laughs and Alec feels color sweep up his neck. He looks over to Magnus just to see him relaxed and laughing with everyone else. He shrugs helplessly and Alec returns it with a silly little grin before turning back to Madzie. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I love it.”

He opens a watch from Isabelle that he’d been eyeing on one of their shopping trips and Jace’s present is just a gift card to Smoothie King-- the same thing he’s gotten since they were sixteen.

Finally, he reaches the last present and he recognizes the wrapping paper immediately from where they’d walked over together. He glances over to Magnus just to see his boyfriend fiddling with that damned ear cuff and Alec has no idea what to expect.

He’s far more careful with unwrapping this gift, delicately tearing the paper and undoing the ribbon. When he finally reveals a book, he’s happy but it’s not until he turns it over to read the front cover that the breath rushes out from him.

“Holy shit, Magnus,” he breathes as he oh so carefully opens the cover to see the title page.

“Well, you did mention that it’s your favorite book. I believe your words were, I read my copy cover to cover until the pages literally fell out.” He shrugs a little, a cautious smile working its way over his face as he sees Alec light up as he continues studying it. “You could buy anything you wanted but I thought this would be something you might not think of.”

Alec reads the title page for the dozenth time, still not quite believing Magnus’s present.

“Well, what is it,” Jace demands. “Not all of us are sitting right next to you.”

Max snorts. “Or could read even if they were.”

Everyone laughs and Alec looks up. “It’s a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

“Oh my goodness,” Maryse exclaims before turning to Magnus. “How thoughtful of you. I remember when Alec first read that book. He immediately went out and bought the movie and watched it so many times the dvd stopped working. How on earth did you find it?”

Magnus shrugs but before he can say anything Ragnor chimes in from where he’d been enjoying a glass of scotch. “He’s always been a pain in the ass when he gets a bee in his bonnet.”

That doesn’t clear anything up at all and Alec looks over at his boyfriend who sighs heavily. He catches Magnus glare at Ragnor and Ragnor just smiles breezily at him in return.

“Ragnor, as you know, is the chair of the English department at Columbia. His personal library is a goldmine and he has dozens of first print editions in his collection. Pride and Prejudice was included in that.”

While Magnus had sounded like he was chewing glass at the explanation, Ragnor’s is much more droll as he adds, “Operative word, was. Magnus begged me for weeks for that book. We came to an agreement just a few days ago.”

Magnus scoffs. “You would’ve given it to me regardless but you do so enjoy making me sing for my supper, don’t you? Your price was ridiculous,” Magnus seethes.

Amused, Alec looks between them and asks, “What was the price?”

“That’s something you don’t need to worry about, darling. Just enjoy your present and leave me to my friends who’d like to fleece me for everything I have.”

Raphael just rolls his eyes with Catarina and Alec laughs before letting it go. He pulls Magnus in for a quick kiss before he’s smiling too much and leans back. He opens his eyes just to see Magnus already watching him, gaze happy and warm.

“Thank you,” he whispers in the space between their lips. “I love it.”

I love you.

Alec bites back the words but barely. It’s not the time nor the place for that sort of declaration. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to hold them back but he figures when the moment’s right, he’ll know it.

The rest of the night passes in a bit of a blur. Towards the end, when Clary’s taken a drunk and stumbling Jace back to her place and Maia and Izzy are safely in a cab, Alec finds himself on his back, Magnus looming over him, as they play what could only very loosely be called a game of Twister.

Cat, Ragnor, and Madzie had left a few hours ago and Alec laughs up at a beaming Magnus.

“Kiss me,” he demands and Magnus whispers something too low for him to hear before acquiescing.

Slowly but surely, everyone else leaves after that and Alec thanks Luke profusely for calling a cab for him and Magnus.

Luke just waves him off. “If I let you two stumble your way home, I’d never hear the end of it from your mother. Drink water when you get home and let me know you made it back safely. I’ll see you in the morning for brunch.”

He jerks his chin towards the front door. “Now get out of here and leave your mother and me to clean up.”

Alec pulls Luke in for a hearty hug and they slap each other on the back just a hair too hard. “Thanks, Luke. You’re the best dad I could ask for.”

Luke tightens his grip before standing back and ruffling his hair in a move Alec remembers with fond exasperation. “And you’re the best kid I could’ve asked for but you’re shitfaced right now and keeping me from getting ready for the morning rush. Out of here, you two.”

Alec and Magnus obey-- after saying their goodbyes to Maryse-- and they manage to get themselves in the taxi and all the way up to his apartment with a minimum of fuss.

Closing the door behind him with a sigh, Alec leans against it as he looks down at his shoes, morosely wondering how the hell he was going to get them off.

While the party had been lowkey, he’d had a lot of wine-- not to mention those fucking shots Jace had insisted on-- and he’s more than a little buzzed.

Without warning, his head’s being tipped up and he smiles guileless at Magnus. If he were a little more sober, he’d probably notice that Magnus wasn’t quite as steady on his feet as he’d like everyone to believe.

“Happy birthday, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice is low and in the next moment, they’re kissing. It’s messy and drunk and everything Alec wants right now. His back hits the door with a thud that he barely hears and he moans as Magnus buries a hand in his hair and latches onto his neck, the dull ache the only thing he can focus on. His hands go under Magnus’s shirt to land against his hips, fingers digging in when a particularly sharp bite has him keening.

He’s just reached down for Magnus’s fly when his boyfriend pulls back unexpectedly. Left gasping and confused, Alec’s eyes fly open just to see Magnus watching him with heated eyes that almost seem to glow gold in the low light of the foyer.

“What’s going on,” he asks hoarsely. “Why’d you stop?”

“My darling Alexander. Did I forget to mention? Your birthday present might have a part two.”

Eyes blown wide, Alec’s gaze dips down to Magnus’s jeans. He licks his lips unconsciously. “Oh?”

Magnus laughs and it’s an inelegant snort that he’d deny ever making when sober. “Yeah, oh.”

He steps back and Alec’s focus is seared onto the way Magnus unbuttons the rest of his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders gracefully just to let it fall onto the floor. He takes another few steps backward, until he’s in the living room. He looks up at Alec and meets his eyes with a smirk.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Alec breathes and Magnus’s laughter rings out in the empty apartment as they stumble to the bedroom.

[javelon]

Crossroads Deal - Part 2

Marvin was the first to respond when he heard Henrik start babbling in German, his room being the closest to the doctor's office. It wasn't uncommon to hear Henrik start speaking in his native tongue when he was excited or upset or really frustrated with something he was working on. Unfortunately there hadn't been much to be excited about lately so Marvin was hoping it was frustration causing the doc's current meltdown and not something..worse.

Slowly Marvin eased open the door to the office, jaw dropping when he took in the scene before him. Henrik was babbling excitedly, dashing from machine to machine with his clipboard in hand. And talking happily with the doctor was a very awake Jack.

"Jack!" The magician found himself at Jack's bedside, his own excitement causing him to temporarily lose control of his magic and speed forward faster than the human eye could follow.

Jack and Henrik let out squeaks of surprise as Jack was enveloped in Marvin's embrace, "Oh my God, Jack! You're awake! You're actually awake!" Tears streamed down his face as emotions overwhelmed him.

Jack's arms tightened around him as he laughed, he laughed! Such a beautiful sound that Marvin had feared they would never hear again! "I'm awake, Marvin. It's so good to see you, my friend."

Marvin couldn't reply as he broke down in full on sobs, relishing in the feeling of Jack's hand rubbing his back, "Hey, hey it's ok Marv. I'm here now. Shhhhh it's ok."

By the time Marvin was able to compose himself, the other egos had come to see what all the commotion was. He jumped back next to Henrik just in time as Jackie hurled himself at Jack, earning the anger of the good doctor.

"Be careful, Jackie! You'll crush him!"

Jack laughed again as he hugged the crying superhero, "It's ok Henrik, I'm not made of glass."

Warmth blossomed in Marvin's chest as he watched Jack and Henrik banter back and forth about Jack's supposed frailty. Gods he had missed this so, so much. 

Out of the corner of his eye Marvin saw Jameson standing hesitantly in the doorway. Jack must have seen him too as he smiled up at the old timer ego and motioned him forward. "Hello! You're...JJ right?"

The egos looked at Jack in shock as he grinned, "I could sometimes hear you guys talking in the darkness. I remember hearing about the new ego JJ which must be you. I love the 'stache, bro."

Henrik and Marvin exchanged smiles at the joy on Jameson's face. They knew the youngest ego had been worried Jack wouldn't like him, despite reassurances that Jack would love him just like Jack loved them. They were family after all. And finally Jameson got to see for himself that they were right. 

"Did you...uh...hear what I said then?" Anti's voice from the back corner of the room made Marvin jump in surprise.

The glitch was standing against the wall as far from the others as he could be, digging invisible dirt out from his nails with his knife, pointedly not looking at anyone.

Marvin looked back at Jack in concern. They knew Anti felt true remorse for his actions but that didn't change the fact that the glitch was still the one who had put Jack into a coma in the first place.

Relief filled him when he saw the gentle smile on Jack's face. "I heard every word, Anti. I'll admit at first I was worried it was a trick." Jack held up his hand when Anti's head shot up, "But I heard the others talk about you too so I knew you were truly sorry. And I forgive you."

"Oh thank you God." Anti had slumped in relief before flushing red, ducking his head back down but not before light caught on the tears pooling in his eyes.

Marvin had never seen Anti cry before. Chase had told him once that he had found Anti crying at Jack's bedside a few times, stammering apologies to his comatose creator. But Marvin had never seen it for himself. He felt the urge to hug Anti like he would for the others when they cried but he knew the glitch wouldn't approve. They were still trying to get him used to spontaneous, kind touches but it was slow going. Chase was the only one who could hug Anti without the glitch immediately shoving him away.

Speaking of the father ego Marvin realized he was the only one not in the room. A tiny warning sounded in his head before Marvin shoved it away. There was no need to be alarmed. Chase was probably just in his room. It's where he usually was when he wasn't recording videos for Jack's channel or working after all. And his room was the furthest from the office so he probably hadn't heard all the noise.

The magician shook himself with a smile and slipped out of the room while the others filled Jack in on what he had missed. Chase would be so happy to see Jack awake! He'd really had the toughest time with Jack's coma, being the one who had been closest to Jack. Then having to fill in for Jack just made it worse. The young father had once confessed at Jack's bedsite that he felt like a fraud. Sadness washed over Marvin as he recalled when he walked by the office only to pause at the door when he heard Chase say that. He hadn't wanted to intrude at the moment so he had walked away. Sometimes he wished he had spoken up though. Did Chase know how much the others appreciated everything he did? Surely he knew...

The door to Chase's room was firmly closed so Marvin rapped on the door.

Knock knock

"Chase? It's Marvin. I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Silence answered him.

"Chase?" That tiny warning returned this time accompanied by a curl of concern settling in his chest.

Knock knock knock

"Chase?? I'm coming in!"

Marvin twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stopping when the door hit something. Peaking his head inside he sighed.

"Oh Chase."

The father was laying on the floor, blankets pooled around him, an empty whiskey bottle barely peaking out from under the bed. Sorrow tugged at the magician. Life had been so hard on Chase lately. He put on such a brave face but Marvin knew even without the empty alcohol bottle that it was just a mask. 

He slipped in the room and knelt down next to Chase, placing a hand on the father's shoulder. "Chase. Wake up, dude."

Marvin frowned when he didn't get a response. Chase must have drank more than he thought. Usually Chase would at least grumble in his sleep.

The magician gently shook Chase's shoulder, "C'mon sleeping beauty, up and at 'em."

That curl of concern turned into a stab of fear as Chase remained unresponsive. 

"Chase c'mon this isn't funny brother. I need you to wake up now." Marvin shook him harder.

Something was wrong. He didn't know what but Marvin knew something was very wrong. He turned Chase over and placed shaking fingers on the father's pulse point. Relief washed through him when he felt the tha thump of a heartbeat, only for fear to grip him again when he realized it was way too slow.

"Chase! Please Chase! Wake up!" Marvin cried, pulling him up into his arms, shaking him as hard as he dared.

"Marvin? Vhat ever is the matter?" Henrik's voice broke through the magician's fear.

Marvin whipped his head around, "Henrik help me! I can't wake him!"

Henrik's eyes widened and rushed forward to kneel next to them, "Vhat happened?!" He quickly took Chase's limp form away from Marvin.

"I don't know! I went to tell him Jack was awake and I found him like this!" A faint breeze started whistling through the room as the fear in Marvin grew.

The good doctor looked over Chase before looking at Marvin with a serious look though Marvin could see the fear in the doc's eyes, "Marvin I need you to levitate Chase to the office. He needs to be in a bed, preferably near my supplies."

Marvin quickly nodded, already pulling on his magic before Henrik had even finished speaking. As fast as they dared move, the two took Chase down to the office where the others had gathered in the doorway. Their eyes widened in shock when they saw what was happening.

"Everyone move! Out of zhe way!" Henrik yelled, causing the others to jump to the side.

"What happened?!" Jack cried, being the first to recover.

"I do not know and you should still be in bed!" Henrik growled as he hurried past to the 2nd hospital bed, gesturing for Marvin to place Chase there.

"Did he...? Is it the alcohol?" Anti asked, glitching next to the bed to get a look at Chase himself.

"Alcohol?" Jack looked around in confusion.

Nobody said anything for a moment. Chase's alcohol problem wasn't something talked about often but everyone had noticed. They hadn't really thought about the fact that Jack wouldn't know about it, having been in a coma before it all started.

"Chase...has been under a lot of stress lately. He...he didn't always deal with it in a healthy manner." Jackie finally spoke up.

Jack's face reflected the sorrow they all felt. The egos had all tried to help Chase in various ways. Unfortunately he had simply gotten better at hiding his pain. And it all led to this.

During this discussion Henrik had been working hard on Chase, only to suddenly stop as he looked over the readings of one of his machines.

"What is it?" Marvin hesitantly asked.

Henrik shook his head, a confused frown on his lips, "Zhis...doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't, doc?" Jackie asked, fear evident in his voice.

Anti looked over Henrik's shoulder, his brow also furrowing in confusion, "He...didn't drink that much."

"What?"

Henrik nodded in conformation, "He is correct. Zhe blood alcohol content iz not nearly high enough to explain Chase's condition. Then why...?"

He looked up at everyone, his serious expression sending more fear through Marvin, "I'm going to have to ask everyone to leave. Except Marvin. I will need your help. And Jack will stay on zhe bed."

The other egos started to protest only for Henrik to yell over them, "No arguments! I need silence to work out vhat's wrong! Now please, leave. I vill report to you all when I figure out vhat's wrong."

Reluctantly the others left, looking back before the door closes behind them. 

Henrik has returned to work by the time the door has clicked shut, paying little attention to Jack and Marvin hovering behind him.

Long minutes pass in silence before Henrik whirls around to face them, "Marvin I need you to cast your diagnostic magic on him. I need to know if my findings are correct. Jack please sit on zhe bed. I must examine you again."

Jack and Marvin exchanged looks before doing as the doctor asked. Coming to stand by Chase, Marvin pulled at his magic. The twinkling warmth of healing magic running through his veins had become familiar to him over the years. Ever since Jack had fallen into a coma Marvin had used it every day, trying to help speed up Jack's recovery.  Though the last time he had used it on Chase...

Marvin shuddered, the memory of Chase on the floor, a halo of blood pooling under his head, overwhelming his senses. That had been a dark time for them all. Nightmares of the day haunted Marvin still, and he was sure it haunted the others as well. 

Shoving the memory away, Marvin let his magic wash over Chase. Starting at the heart, the magician let each pump of blood help push the magic to every part of Chase's body, the veins glowing as the magic passed through them. The longer the magic flowed though the more confused Marvin became.

"Uh...Henrik..."

Slowly, almost hesitating, Henrik turned to face him.

"His scar...his temple scar tissue...its gone." Marvin looked up to Henrik, his alarm obvious to all who looked at him. "But...there's old scar tissue on his neck..."

The doctor scrubbed a hand over his face, "I was afraid of zhat..."

Jack and Marvin looked at him confused. Henrik sighed and motioned the magician over, "Jack, may Marvin cast zhe same magic on you?"

Jack nodded and Marvin pulled at his magic again. Several moments passed in silence as Marvin's magic worked through Jack's body. When finished, Marvin's jaw fell open.

"Wha...how is Chase's old scar tissue now on Jack??"

Shoulders slumped, Henrik gave him a helpless look, "As our resident magician I vas hoping you would know. Zhis is nothing natural thus outside my are of expertise."

Jack's hand crept up to his temple as he looked between the two, "Wait...if I have Chase's...if I have his scar...then the neck scar..."

"It's the scar tissue from Anti's attack on you, yes." Henrik finished.

"And he also has all the muscle atrophy that you should have from being in a coma for so long." Marvin added softly.

A quiet gasp came from Jack as he realized what had happened. Somehow all of his injuries past and present had become Chase's including his comatose state.

"But...how?" 

Marvin sighed, "I don't know but I will find out." The magician looked over at Chase again before walking towards the door. Henrik followed after him, "And I have some egos I promised an explanation to." He fixed a stern glare on Jack, "You stay here and rest."

"I've been sleeping for months!" Jack protested.

"A coma is not zhe same as actually sleeping! You better be in zhat bed when I get back."

Jack shrank under the doctor's stare and pulled the blanket on his bed up to his chin. Henrik gave a brief nod in satisfaction before leaving the room. Marvin hesitated a moment before turning back to Jack, his heart breaking at Jack's own heartbroken look as Jack looked over Chase's still form.

"Marvin." Jack said softly.

The magician jumped slightly. He didn't realize Jack knew he was still there, "Yea?"

The broken shards of his heart cut deep into Marvin as Jack turned to him with tear filled eyes, "Bring him back. Please."

Swallowing hard, Marvin nodded, "I will. I promise."

Jack turned back to Chase and after a moment of silence Marvin left the room, determined to fulfill his promise and bring their brother back to them.