#maiaphael fic

[normal-thoughts-official]

Thawing From the Middle

Raphael Santiago didn’t like to define himself by his hatreds, but this, he had to admit - he fucking hated the cold.

Good thing Maia’s so warm - and he can be, too, when she needs it.

Read it on ao3

Relationships: Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago, Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago/Simon Lewis/Meliorn (mentioned)

Characters: Raphael Santiago, Maia Roberts

Rated: T

Additional Tags: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Daylighter Raphael Santiago, Past Abuse, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Autistic Raphael Santiago (implied/referenced), Abuse survivor Maia Roberts, Pack leader Maia Roberts

Raphael doesn’t like to think of himself as a man defined by his hatreds, even if he knows some people can think of no other traits to define him.

(Only if they don’t know you at all, he can hear Meliorn’s voice saying in his head.

We all know he’s a softie at heart, Simon and Maia had agreed.

The memory makes him smile.)

But this, he has to admit - he fucking hates the cold. It’s as much a part of himself as his own name.

It was the thing he had immediately despised about New York, as soon as he set foot there. In New York, 20°C - sorry, 70°F - was warm. Summer was so short it was less of a station and more a fluke. There was snow.

It was nothing like Guadalajara.

Guadalajara was burning, and loud, and colorful, in all of the best ways. It was hot, and the food was spicy, and midday was filled with the smell of the meals of the whole neighborhood.

New York was cold, like a sensory deprivation chamber. He felt trapped, and numb, and alone. The first few weeks there felt more like death than when he actually died.

And when he did die, well - cold was less of a state and more of a constant, for him.

He’d leave his clothes out on the Dumort roof, during the day, while he slept. They were all black, so they could keep the heat as much as possible; even the few red or green pieces had black cloth underneath, courtesy of Magnus’ tailor.

It did very little to help.

Besides, that’s another thing he’d always hated about the cold - having to wrap himself all around, being barely able to move, the textures all wrong and painful and keeping him sealed from the world, this depriving kind of too much.

It might be why becoming a Daylighter had been such a blessing for him - if he’d never had proof that God was by his side before, this one he couldn’t deny. Being able to feel the sun on his face again - to really feel warm - after almost a century… He could cry just from the pure sense he got that he wasn’t hated, wasn’t renegated, hadn’t been abandoned.

It might also be why he hasn’t taken a jacket with him, today. But that one he has to regret a little bit.

Even under Maia’s very generous pile of blankets, he is shivering. It’s not like they could do much for him, anyway; he has no heat for them to keep.

In his defense, it was warm when he left. And he works in a kitchen, so it’s always a bit too hot in there.

Your job isn’t just cooking and you know it, he can hear Maia say just like she did as she slapped him lightly with a towel, as the both of them finished closing Taki’s for the day. Just bring a jacket with you, she had finished, the annoyance leaving her tone in a single huff, making room for worry - and the painful kind of understanding that made him avert his eyes from her big, beautiful ones.

“Stop looking so miserable, you’re under, like, 10 blankets right now,” Maia says, laughing, in that way that lights her up until even he feels a little warmer.

“Doesn’t help a lot when there’s barely any warmth for them to keep,” he answers.

“You know, I’ve always admired the way you can mumble full sentences like that,” she answers, that same smile still shining in her eyes, and he swears that he can see it even on the little bounce of her hair as she finishes taking off her pants. She’s so lively, every little part of her body bursts with it.

“I didn’t mumble,” he mumbles, flopping his face down on the pillows.

“Sure,” she says easily, in a way that’d be more frustrating than some witty argument, but he can’t even complain because she finally turns off the light and lifts the covers to lay alongside him.

“Jesus Christ, you really are freezing,” is what she says as soon as her body even lightly touches his.

“Sorry,” he answers automatically, trying to keep his distance so he doesn’t freeze her.

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine,” she says, easily, like her skin didn’t break out in goosebumps the second it touched his.

Raphael huffs. “I promise I’ll bring a jacket next time,” he says, sitting up so he can rub his own arms in the hopes he can get some heat. “I’ll just-”

Maia sighs. “I get it, you know,” she says, honestly. “One time I almost froze up because-” she bites her lip.

Raphael turns to her, immediately, a weird sense of protectiveness overtaking him even as he knows she’s fine. “Because of what?” he asks, holding himself back from touching her with his icy hands.

“Because I didn’t want to Turn,” she says, not looking at him. She has one finger playing with one of her curls, twisting around like it’s cuddling with it. Her voice sounds the kind of soft that makes you feel hollow. “The wolf form is very warm, you know. Fur and all that. Way warmer than human,” she says. Then she turns to look at him, the force of her eyes always taking him by surprise for a second, so honest and so deep, “did you ever see me Turn, back when Luke was the Alpha?” she asks quietly.

“I think so,” he says. Him and Maia weren’t particularly close, at the time; never truly were until he had started dating Meliorn, and Simon, and helping her out at Taki’s, until suddenly she felt almost as much a part of her life as the place itself. He fights to bring the memory back, “it was like… you were breaking out of your body,” he says.

It’s true, too. Most werewolf transformations were smooth, almost instant. Maia’s was long, her whole body snapping and twisting like her body was fighting itself. It was painful to watch, and felt even more painful to remember, now.

“It felt like that, too,” she admits. “It hurt a lot. I felt like I was always fighting it. Even when I decided to Turn… It’s like a part of me didn’t want to acknowledge what was happening,” she admits.

Sometimes he forgets that Maia felt like a monster, too. He never got it. Sure, she was a werewolf, but that didn’t matter, in the same way that becoming a vampire never made Simon any less human. It wasn’t really about - the condition.

She nods like she knows what he’s thinking, and takes his hand to plant a kiss on it. It’s ridiculous, but it makes him feel a little less cold. “I didn’t feel like I was in control,” she admits, quietly. “Every time I Turned, I felt like it was being forced. Like it was proof that I still… Belonged to Jordan,” she finishes, quietly.

Raphael hisses, and he doesn’t even mind it. Jordan will always bring out the worst kind of hatred in his heart, pretty much like Camille did. He’s glad they’re both dead, unable to hurt the people he loves anymore.

She smiles again, like she’s thankful for his little display, for how automatically it comes to him. Her hand lingers on his, the both of them drawing comfort from the random patterns their fingers leave on each other’s skin. “After he died, things changed a little bit. I’ve been trying to reclaim my wolf. Make it mine. It brought me too many good things for me to let It belong to him,” she says.

Raphael nods. He can understand that. There’s still a lot he misses, but at the end of the day - he built a family after being a downworlder. Magnus. Cat. Madzie. His clan. His partners. The regulars at Taki’s. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost them, now. And he wouldn’t have had them if he hadn’t been Turned.

Maia sighs, like the words are tiring her out. “But I get it. I get that need to- pretend it won’t happen. The cold.”

“Thank you,” he says, even if that doesn’t sound like the appropriate answer; it’s the one he feels like he needs to give.

Maia smiles. “It’s come to mean a lot to me, to be able to Turn, and not fight it,” she continues. “And it’s really warm, too.”

He hums for a second, and then it dawns on him. “Is that an offer?” he asks, unable to keep the smile off his face, that wide one that’s just on the edge of laughter.

Maia, who had looked a little drawn, smiles back to him, relaxing back into the conversation. “If you don’t mind that we won’t be able to talk,” she says.

He shakes his head. “I don’t really feel like talking today, anyway,” he says, truthfully. He’s tired, and there’s that buzzing on his head that makes him feel like talking is too much of an effort, sometimes. Like it’s taking him from himself.

“You could have told me,” Maia says, not unkindly, getting up slightly and removing the top she usually wears to bed.

“I can handle it,” he points out.

“I know you can. I’m saying you don’t have to,” she fires back. Her tone is kind, but still cutting in that no-bullshit way only Maia can do. It’s one of the many things he loves about her; she’s very direct, when it matters.

He nods, and doesn’t say anything. She smiles, shimmying out of her panties, which earns her a snort that she fights back with nothing but a swat in his general direction. It’s a testament to how close they are, that Raphael doesn’t mind seeing her like this. It’s always a little terrifying, looking at someone and wondering what it would be like to want them, and feeling his stomach churn just at the thought. But Maia knows it doesn’t mean anything; and it doesn’t mean anything to her, either.

Besides, she’s beautiful, her skin almost as brown and shiny as her hair, making she look like the beginning of a starry night. She’s soft, too, and there’s just something about her that radiates warmth, and safety.

She’s the opposite of Raphael. All light and softness, but with the power to be sharp, and strong, lying underneath.

And then she Turns, and it’s like the midnight sky. Her transformation is smooth now, and mesmerizing to watch. Her fur is darker than her hair, her eyes glowing Alpha green - he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the brown, so much more real and beautiful and sweet; but somehow her Alpha green doesn’t look threatening when she’s like this; more like welcoming, and protective. Her fur is just as shiny as her hair, except not as curly. And she’s bigger too, bigger than Raphael - not that that takes a lot, he thinks bitterly - and yeah, she was right. She feels like a furnace, radiating heat.

She wastes no time either, immediately making Raphael lie down again - with a soft nudge of her paw over his shoulder, delicate and careful in that way that fills him with endearment. Then she lies on top of him, carefully so he gets adjusted to her weight. Somehow, looking into her eyes, he knows she’s smiling.

As soon as she settles, he wastes no time, his hands running to her back so he can stroke her beautiful fur. It’s nice that her fur is straighter than her hair, because they can both get the best of both worlds; the careful way he can squeeze her curls and run the tips of his fingers over her scalp, and the longer strokes alongside her fur. He feels warm in a second, the heat radiating from her making him feel full, and real, and home. He closes his eyes, and there’s the faint smell of the spices that still linger on both of them after so many hours at Taki’s, and the warmth from her body, and the perfect texture of her body. He’s enveloped in her, not like he’s trapped, or sealed away; but like they overflow with each other, simple and content.

He sighs, and she nuzzles his neck slightly, and he’s so happy he barely knows what to do with it.

“It’s an honor that you’re comfortable with me like this,” he says, because it’s true, and he wants to say it. He knows how far she’s had to go in order to even be comfortable in her wolf form by herself, much less with other people. “I love you.”

She wags her tail, completely disrupting the covers on top of them, and letting out an embarrassed whimper afterwards. Raphael can’t help it; he laughs.

“It’s ok,” he says, too tired of words to elaborate, but knowing that she knows what he means, anyway. Soon it would be too hot, with the covers over them like this. He barely feels an ounce of cold anymore, and it hasn’t even been a minute.

She nuzzles his neck again, settling against him for real this time, and soon her breaths even and she falls into peaceful, happy sleep. It looks like she’s smiling, and despite his tiredness, Raphael finds himself actively fighting the sleep so he can keep running his hands alongside her, watching over her sleep, enjoying her warmth.

Raphael Santiago hates the cold. But he never wanted to be defined by his hatreds. Not when love beats so loudly inside of him, thrumming with happiness and purpose.

When he wakes up the next day, sunlight hitting his face and a half-awake Maia mumbling because she forgot to close the window, he feels better rested than he has in years.

Centuries, even.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Sunshine

Read on AO3

Maia Roberts is up to something; he can tell from the mischievous grin on her face and the bounce in her step as she walks into the room and Raphael glances her way.

She drops her backpack by the door and almost skips over to him where he stands by the kitchen counter flipping through the morning’s newspaper. He’s well aware half the news is old by now but with the evening edition’s he once relied on no longer in print he takes what he can get.

He’s an old soul, in some respects still stuck in the ways he once had favored when letterman jackets were all the rage and soda hops were still a thing. He loves the feel of the paper between his fingers, the ink stains the pages leave behind and the smell, not getting his news from a 24-hour news cycle of nonsense on tweet book or whatever people are using nowadays. It’s one of the few old school things he can still hold onto.

Something that being a vampire hasn’t totally affected and changed.

Maia plucks the paper from his hand and he gives her a sharp not nearly as annoyed as he wants it to be look. She just smiles cheekily at him folding the paper up and pushing it aside.

“We are going somewhere special tonight,” she says downright gleeful.

Raphael raises an inquisitive eyebrow. His night is nearly over, the sun will be up in an hours’ time and he values his rest.

“I know, I know,” she says reading his mind in that way that would be unnerving if she were anyone else. “The sun’s almost up, blah, blah, blah. Don’t worry about it, just trust me and grab one of your fancy jackets so we can go.”

“Okay,” Raphael says without question and does just that. Maia smiles at him and grabs his hand as soon as he’s slipped on a gold lined bomber. She pulls him out to the street and tugs him along not bothering to hail a cab.

“Where are you taking me?” he says a little nervously already seeing the sky start to shift. He trusts her implicitly, but the edges of the sun peeking over the horizon always give him pause, especially ever since the incident with Heidi. If it hadn’t been for Isabelle he wouldn’t have gotten to be here now with Maia, his arm about to be pulled from the socket while she eagerly drags him down street.

“You’ll see,” she says dragging him down a few more blocks in silence. She stops in front of a large building that looks abandoned and beams.

She lets go of his hand pulling at the lock on the front door, the chains breaking underneath her strength.

“Oh, so you brought me here to commit a crime,” Raphael says as Maia holds the door open beckoning him in. He goes, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as Maia blocks the door with an old chair.

“No I did not,” she says taking his hand once again pulling him through the darkness and up some stairs he questions the stability of.

“So, this is where you kill me then,” he says as he hits a particularly questionable stair that makes a deafening creaky sound. He’s certain that it will fall out underneath him and is stunned when it doesn’t.

Maia giggles skipping over a step that Raphael chooses to follow suit and do the same.

“No, I am not here to kill you either,” she says her head shaking fondly.

They reach the third-floor busting through a door Maia kicks open with one foot and Maia steps away again flicking a single low light lamp on.

This room is completely different from the other’s the walls actually painted, the floor properly boarded and the windows cleaned. Maia slips a hand to his lower back and guides him forward towards the window.

“Umm, Maia,” he says watching as the sun starts to slip up above the buildings painting the city in tones of orange and yellow.

“Trust me,” she whispers before rushing over to the light to switch it back off. She steps up next to him again twining their fingers together as the sun gets higher in the sky.

If Raphael had a heartbeat he knows it’d be getting faster and faster right now, both from having someone who truly understands him and loves him for all that he is close by and from the twinge of fear he feels as the sun he once loved to feel on his skin gets higher and higher in the sky.

The light starts pouring in on the hardwood floor at their feet and he instinctively takes a step back his fangs showing, a hiss slipping from his lips.

Maia holds tight to his hand keeping him in place and keeping him calm.

“It’s okay,” she says calm and clear. The sun touches his feet and then continues to move up and up until it’s touching the bare skin of his hands. He doesn’t flinch this time trusting Maia’s hold on him.

He stares down at where the sun touches his hand in disbelief. Before he can even question it the sun has fully risen, the light touching his neck, his face, his hair.

He can almost, just almost feel the warmth of it on his skin. Can almost remember the touch of a sunrise with little Rosa sitting at his feet asking him all about the beautiful face she believed lived inside the sun.  

He stares out the window for a moment, then turns his eyes to Maia who’s already looking at him a smile on her lips the sun bouncing in her warm brown eyes and catching on the little silver clips in her tight braids.

She’s as transcendent as the sun itself.

“How?” he asks in awe.

Her smile just grows wider. “UV windows, they’re technically still in the experimentation phase and haven’t been fully approved by anyone, but I called Magnus and he called a friend who knew a guy, who said he could put one in for him as a tester.”

Raphael turns back to the window stepping closer tentatively lifting a hand and laying it on the glass.

“He’s a mundane so we couldn’t exactly explain the situation and he’d only do it somewhere non-commercial or residential like this since it’s kinda illegal, but he still got it done,” she says leaning up against the glass beside him. “Now since marine biology is my science of choice, I don’t get it exactly, but I know the UV rays can be seen, but can’t pass through. They’ll keep you completely safe.”

He turns to her again a smile on his face, his hand still pressed to the glass.

He never thought he’d feel the sun again, not like this, not in a safe way. Not with her by his side. He always thought the closest he’d come to sunshine again would be her smile.

“Maia, I-“ he doesn’t know what to say. I love you. I can’t believe you made this happen. I can’t believe Magnus managed to keep it a secret. I feel human again in moments like this, in moments with you. It all feels like too much and not enough so he just settles for pulling her close tipping his head to her temple affectionately and pressing a kiss to her head.

“We can come back for the sunset too, or we can stay here all day and just bask in it,” Maia says leaning her head on his shoulder. He keeps one hand tight around her shoulders the other still pressed at the glass feeling just a taste of the warmth of the sun through the thick pane.

“Thank you,” he whispers eyes staring into the brightness not caring if it starts to hurt. Not caring if when he turns away he’ll see little sunspots everywhere.

“You’re welcome,” she whispers back wrapping both her arms around his waist, keeping him as warm as the sunshine can. They stay there comfortably quiet, pressed close to one another with the sunshine beaming in.

[thesorrowoflizards]

TUMBLR FIC YEAR IN REVIEW

oh boy haha did i even fucking write anything this year

thanks for tagging me @rai-knightshade-art (sorry i have to keep tagging your art blog instead of your main. thanks for being useless, tumblr)

Number of fics completed this year: 5, including the maiaphael twilight princess au half-fic that was more meta blob than actual fic

Total Word Count: 45,452 (10,133 without the maiaphael twilight princess half-fic, whoa)

Fandoms Written in: Shadowhunters and The Mentalist (and technically the Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, as that fic incorporated the setting/plot of that game + some characters) 

Did you write more, less, or about what you expected this year?: less, I guess? I just have been so busy and exhausted. Although I did write more of non-sh fic than I expected, even if only two.

What's your favorite story of the year, personally?: Well, I’m really proud of the maiaphael twilight princess au but kiss her hand :) is really funny.

Did you take any writing risks this year?: Well, I did write non-sh fic, and for a fandom I’ve never written for before and that I knew no one I know cared about. Plus, that maiaphael twilight princess au was basically just made for me and like two other people. It’s not only an obscure and absurdly specific au, but it’s for a rarepair few care about (although Magnus also gets a focus--but like, again, that’s still three characters of color, so it was never gonna get wildly popular) so even though I knew no one but me and a few friends would care, it still hurt when it got basically nothing.

Oh, and also, the whole mess with the demon alec/SWAK au. All the hate/transphobia I got in that survey, which I guess was a stupid idea (I was blinded by my love for polls!!) just fucked me up so much that between that and 2020 in general, I haven’t even started rewriting them. They’re still up as empty on ao3, so I hope they don’t get taken down before I decide what to do. Still have no idea what I’m going to do there.

Do you have any fanfic goals for the new year?: I have several AUs both continued and new that I really want to write, but my schedule next semester is going to be incredibly crowded since I took an extra class and I’m still doing a language so that’s going to take up hours of homework time every day, and like, generally, I have no idea how that’s going to work out. But I hope to work on some of those AUs and have fun with them. If nothing else, maybe a few oneshots? Who knows, I might also explore some other fandoms (and by that I mean writing fic for them and staying far, far away from the actual fandoms on tumblr and all). 

Most popular story of the year?: 

Going by kudos: the most popular is by far “that look in your eyes” with 432 kudos. Then in order: kiss her hand :) with 30, just to show you the difference, then deep waters, red hands, maiaphael twilight princess au with 6 kudos comes in last

Going by comments: the most popular is once again “that look in your eyes” with 37 comments. Then it’s maiaphael au (which consists solely of 3 people, 1 amazing person who left 14 of the 16 comments), which is tied with “kiss her hand :)”. Then deep waters, then red hands (with 2 kudos).

Going by bookmarks: most popular is, you guessed it, “that look in your eyes” with 68. Then kiss her hand :) with 6, maiaphael au, and deep waters and red hands tied in last with 2.

Going by hits: that look in your eyes (3537), deep waters, kiss her hand :), maiaphael au, red hands (148).

So, overall? “that look in your eyes” by far, apparently. Which checks out, it’s the most broadly appealing to the fandom’s tastes as it’s more balanced as malec and not a rarepair, and not in a mostly dead fandom lmao. 

(Rather than linking them all individually, if you’re interested in any of these fics, see here.)

My most underappreciated story: MAIAPHAEL TWILIGHT PRINCESS AU GOD DAMN IT 

Most Fun story to write?: not to sound like a fucking broken record but THE MAIAPHAEL TWILIGHT PRINCESS AU. It combines my love for Magnus, Maiaphael (and Maia and Raphael individually) and THE LEGEND OF ZELDA AND ZELDA LORE. And I worked super hard on it. So hard. Dude, I watched two hours of Twilight Princess cutscenes. (I would have replayed the game but finding and dusting off the ancient wii u sounds like a bad time, and anyway, I wanted to get it done soon not in like several weeks or something.) 

Biggest Disappointment?: Well, I’ve got 3. 1) Even though I knew it would happen.... MAIAPHAEL TWILIGHT PRINCESS AU DAMN IT. I was really disappointed that only friends gave it a chance. I mean, I’m super glad they did and very grateful for them, but I wish someone who didn’t know me looked at that and thought “huh. looks interesting” you know?? 2) The responses to my SWAK poll. I got some really nice replies, but I also got some really nasty ones and I have no idea what I’m going to do with the series going forward. My feelings are very conflicted about it, I guess. 3) That I didn’t write more of the stuff I had planned. I have some cool fun AUs in the back, but I just... haven’t. Also, I kind of wanted to write some X-Files stuff, but I got distracted while watching it and I’m nowhere near finished lmao oops 

Biggest Surprise: That I got anything done at all, tbh.

Tagging: THE WHOLE GANG. I’m not tagging every single one of you I’m LAZY and I just know I’d end up tagging someone who doesn’t actually write fic because I’m stupid. But you know who you are. 

And also you, @poisonousquinzel. You’re not that in that particular gang but YOU’RE STILL IN “THE GANG” AKA MY FRIENDS. SO. 

Also, even if you don’t know that I’m talking to you, if you want to do this, go ahead! Tag me! I’d love to see it. 

[maiaphaelsource]

anon’s great cornucopia of maiaphael prompts, part 16

ANYONE CAN FEEL FREE TO SEND THEIR OWN THOUGHTS ON THIS PROMPT

Or the whole death thing just being a huge, painful misunderstanding and Raphael gets the chance to introduce Maia to his grumpy British uncle/grandpa cause ragnor would absolutely adore her

not to self promo but i lowkey wrote a fic about that and “ragnor thought that magnus knew that he was faking his own death” is a headcanon that i love. especially if ragnor just walks back in there like “surprise bitch, i bet you thought you’d seen the last of me”

like not really but the mental image sure is funny. he just waltzes into scene and one day and everyone is like... hmmm????? ragnor???? you know

but anyway.... cue endless crying and screaming and mess and ragnor being just like “i thought you knew i was faking it?” and magnus being like NO YOU DINGUS and both him and raphael just being all wide eyed and doing the thing where they keep grabbing at him to make sure that he’s real and it’s just... aaaa

and ragnor being all like “i missed you, raphael” and raphael choking up an “i missed you too” and later crying and praying and thanking god for giving him this miracle, for bringing his family back to him again..... i’m in a rosa mood so thinking about him hoping against hope that this would mean that rosa could come back too, one day... 

ugh and hopping off that last ask like the fact that he told maia so much about him and now he gets to introduce them!! and god yes ragnor would adore maia. soon enough he would be like, inviting her over for tea. it’s funny because they both have similar sarcastic vibes but like, in opposite ways. ragnor is all british and posh about it, and maia just doesn’t care about trying to play a game that’s set up for her to lose. but they get along so well. maia mentions that she punched jace (twice! good for her!) and ragnor is all like “ah yes, i’ve only met him briefly but i found him quite dreadful” and maia is like “I KNOW RIGHT??” and it’s like they’re speaking different languages and it’s so entertaining to watch

also ragnor hears that maia is into marine biology and he’s all like “ah yes, i have plenty of books on the subject, you are free to take them” and maia’s eyes are huge like “really???” and he’s like “of course. anything for a friend. even more so for a friend of raphael’s”. and she’s so fucking excited and he shows her his messy as all hell but also meticulously organized in its own way library. and all the books he has on the subject are from like centuries ago and wildly inaccurate (at least the european ones) but maia eats that shit up all the same because learning about the history of marine biology is just as fascinating and those are gems. she’s just there all damn day. sometimes she shows up with raphael when he visits just to be all like “i’ll leave you guys to talk.... i’ll just go to the library meanwhile...” and raphael snorts and she throws him a stinky eye and goes there to read being all happy and aaaa

and ragnor is super kind so he lets her take the books (”if i ever need them again, i can magick them back. do be warned that this means they might disappear without previous notice”) and her eyes are just shining. she gets ragnor to watch sci-fi movies, which he hates deeply, and his absolute dread is incredibly entertaining to both raphael and magnus. magnus is just like “i didn’t think that would be possible but i like maia even more now”. raphael just smiles and kisses her cheek

[luxxmagnus]

I'm too depressed to make content but i want maiaphael so it's my turn to nag u i guess. what kind of dates do you think theyd like? also do you think they would pull pranks together (the correct answer is yes) and what would they do

Ily Lêx and I hope you feel better I would crush your depression if I could ahgdhd anyways aaaa I'm flattered for this ask. MAIAPHAEL DATES AAA YES LET'S GO. So personally I feel they are so comfortable around each other and I feel that sometimes they might not even realise that simple things they do together count as dates. For example a day when Raphael comes to pick Maia up from Takis helping her clean the place they both comfortably talk about their days they may even sit down and Maia makes a quick snack for them both because they both realize that they haven't had anything to eat etc., Taki's lighting is low they are laughing holding each other's hand while they talk and they realise "oh! This counts as a date". Example number 2: Maia is helping Raphael to make food preparations for a local shelter Raphael is helping with the next day. They both love being in the kitchen Maia wants to copy Raphael exaclty in the recipe and he keeps encouraging her that she's doing an amazing job and that he appreciates the help and again the things they do together with the ambiance around them definitely screams "this counts as a date."

As for my top date ideas for them:

they're both foodies I believe it so much. I Feel like they will always be on the newest restaurants and the latest food trends? They'd be all over that just to see if the current "food hypes" are worth it. Remember in the finale where Raphael mentioned he stood in line for the cronut shop in NY? They would do exactly that! Plan accordingly rate whether the experience was enjoyable or not etc.

My most favorite type of date for them and we've talked about this before, I feel would be when they cook for each other but make it a contest. So both of them cooking at home and them trying to get a "peek" of each other's dish and the kitchen would just be filled with their laughter and "don't look! It's a surprise!" Which always leads to them enjoying their time together maybe even dancing to their favorite music while cooking, just doing what they love the most cooking and of course both enjoying what the other cooked for them.

STARGAZING DATES cliche but I'm never going pass the opportunity of Raphael comparing Maia to a beautiful night sky, calling her his moon etc. Defibitely telling her how beautiful the moon and stars reflects in her beautiful eyes because he would.

Ok ooof your fic gave me the most warming imagery of them cuddling together with 10 blankets covering them I instantly thought of those blanket forts?? I feel like Maia would surprise Raphael with that one day because she knows how much Raphael loves the feeling of just feeling warm, major cuddles would ensue just them loving the feeling of being near one another and sjgdud yeah.

As for Pranks (shsdg I fail at this completely):

Gosh aaaaa let's go, I don't know why I immediately thought of those pranks where people make a specific food but make it look like something else entirely? I feel like they would do that to confuse the other especially in their infamous cooking cook off date nights. The next one wouldn't feel as a prank but skdh Maia opening up Takis one days and finding small hand written notes in random places with things her and Raphael would know maybe like inside jokes they have etc. Even random sappy ones like "i bet you look gorgeous right at this very moment" etc. Maia thinks it's ridiculous because 1. When did Raphael have the time to do this and 2. She secretly finds it endearing.

[shadowhunterspolycule]

Tag list

Regarding characters: all characters will be tagged as their full names. The exception to this is Meliorn, who does not have a last name, and therefore will only be tagged “meliorn”

Regarding relationships: Romantic relationships will be tagged as their own names. The possible romantic relationships within the polycule are: saphael (simon x raphael), raphaeliorn (raphael x meliorn), maiaphael (maia x raphael), saia (simon x maia), melia (meliorn x maia), siliorn (simon x meliorn), isabeliorn (izzy x meliorn), clizzy (clary x izzy), claia (clary x maia), maiabelle (maia x izzy), saiaphael (simon x maia x raphael), saphaeliorn (simon x raphael x meliorn), maiaphaeliorn (maia x raphael x meliorn), saialiorn (simon x maia x meliorn), claiabelle (clary x maia x izzy), saiaphaeliorn (simon x maia x raphael x meliorn), and shadowhunters polycule (the whole mess at once). Posts that feature two ships with the same character but are not in a three-way dynamic (for example, clizzy and isabeliorn) will simply be tagged as both ships. Platonic ships will be tagged as Character A & Character B, with characters sorted by alphabetical order

Regarding content: Explicit stuff will be tagged “smut”, explicit stuff that mentions trans people’s bodies/genitals will be tagged “trans character smut”, explicit images will be tagged “image smut”. Potentially triggering topics will be tagged as “(content) tw” and you can ask for any tw to be added. Otherwise, general tags as found on ao3 will be used to sort content (such as “fluff”, “crack”, “humor”, “hurt/comfort”, “angst” and others)

Regarding type of post: fanfics will be tagged “fic”, fanart will be tagged “art”, memes will be tagged “meme”, headcanons will be tagged “headcanon”. Gifsets will be tagged “gifset”, text posts “text”, image posts “image” and so on. 

Regarding headcanons: if you wish to search for posts that include a specific headcanon, they will be tagged “(characteristic) character”. For example: “autistic maia roberts”, “trans raphael santiago”, “nonbinary meliorn”, “lesbian clary fray”, and so on. “Asexual raphael santiago” is canon, not headcanon, but will also be its own tag for people who want to find posts that specifically go into that, although raphael is always asexual and sex-repulsed in every single post written in this blog, whether it mentions it explicitly or not. The same applies to Simon’s jewishness, which will also be a tag

[alecmagnuslwb]

Poison

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Twenty-Three

Read on AO3

Maia doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the sound of Raphael’s head cracking on the ground as fell after taking that damn drink. She knows she’ll hear the deafening sound in her nightmares waking her up for months to come.

She reaches out holding Raphael’s hand as he still slumbers, praying to a god she knows he believes in for him to wake up.

Fucking Camille. Maia only ever met her face to face once, and had been completely dismissed by her during that single encounter, and in this moment she’s fairly certain she could knock Alec out of the top spot of hating her. Maybe they could start the opposite of a fan club after this. Camille’s been dead for over two years now and yet somehow one her little loyalists was still sneaking around in Raphael’s clan just biding his time. Tonight he had his moment sitting out the pitcher of blood that he was certain would seal Raphael’s fate and get revenge for his long dead leader.

Maia was sitting there her feet kicked up studying for her biology final on Friday, Raphael quizzing her as he paced around the room when he poured himself a glass. One sip was all it took to take him down, the poison working fast and before she could even react he was hitting the ground. A fractured crack of his skull landing hard on the cold, stone floor. She froze for no more than a second and then reacted instantly, her protective pack nature kicking in.

She was already dialing Magnus while shouting for Raphael’s guards to go after the vampire in question and do whatever it took to bring him in. She hadn’t left Raphael’s side for a moment since then staying just far enough away while Magnus got to work, but she had her own private victory party in her head when she heard the vampire had been captured.

She just wished there was footage of Isabelle wrapping that long whip of hers around his neck tightly, knowing that she wouldn’t be kind to someone who threatened a friend, before handing him over to Raphael’s second to deal with internally.

The poison that was running through his veins is gone now entirely thanks to Magnus’ arduous work, but a waiting game of when he’ll wake up is what she’s playing now. Magnus has gone home drained from the healing process even with Alec’s help and the rest of the clan are graciously giving their clan leader space, giving her space to stay sentry by his side.

She’s always felt welcomed in the walls of the Hotel Dumort by Raphael’s vampires for the most part ignoring the whisper here and there that he was always quick to shoot down with a single look, but tonight she feels respected not just as the Alpha of the New York werewolf pack, but as Raphael’s partner as well.

She can’t believe she’s here, not really. She and Raphael had been completely unexpected. For years they’d had a healthy respect for one another, a distant friendship at best. Then the war with Jonathan happened and everything after was a ripple effect of change.

Taki’s became her passion outside of the pack and unexpectedly Raphael offered his helping hand. They both bonded over a love of community of the way’s food can bring people together, Raphael going as far as becoming a silent partner in her restaurant offering his resources and his secret family recipe for tamales.

And then one night while he was teaching her how to make said tamales things had shifted and like that they weren’t just friends or colleagues, they were more.

He doesn’t ask her for more than she’s willing to give and she gives him the same respect in return. It works between them almost flawlessly an ebb and flow of understanding, of affectionate touches and of shared values.

He supports her in all things, be it her school work, the pack or the restaurant and she in turn gives him the space to be his own leader and follow his faith even if she doesn’t share it all the same.

Things with Raphael work better than any other connection she’s ever had, the best boyfriend she’s ever had by far, even if the term seems a little silly to describe him.

And now sitting here watching his still form she knows she doesn’t ever want to be apart from him, that this is it for her.

Raphael’s hand moves under hers and she sits up straight watching as his eyes flutter open.

“Maia?” he says his voice sounding a little hoarse from misuse.

“Hey, you scared me there for a bit,” she says softly trying to ignore the catch in her throat as she speaks.

“I’m okay,” he replies quietly squeezing her hand he’s still holding onto. “The vampire who did this,” he starts already moving to sit up. Maia cuts him off shoving him gently back down.

“Caught by Isabelle and handed over to your second, they’re just waiting until you’re at 100% to decide what to do with him,” Maia says running her fingers over his cheek softly for a moment. “No moving until you hit that 100%, alright?”

He smiles lightly saluting her playfully. “Yes ma’am,” he says knowing that for all his stubborn streak, Maia’s protective one is a mile wider and there’s no arguing here.

She places a light kiss on the back of his hand then lays it back down on the bed not letting go.

Raphael’s lips turn up slightly at the gesture. They stay quiet for a while just softly gazing at one another.

“No more getting poisoned, okay,” she whispers into the silence around them.

“I’ll try my best,” he says tugging at her hand. “Now, where’s your book and notecards you have a final to ace in two days.”

Maia smiles and shakes her head pulling away from him to grab the book and notecard stack sitting on the bed side table. She’d attempted to study while he slept but couldn’t focus, abandoning the books instead.

He grabs the notecards as soon as she rests them on the bed jumping right in to quiz her on the hardest stuff, not because he wants to trip her up, but because he knows she knows it.

Another little proof that he gets her, that he respects her in all things. Another proof that tells her she couldn’t bear to lose him.

[normal-thoughts-official]

A relationship’s true nature

5 times Luke tells Magnus about him and Alaric, and the one time Magnus finds out what their relationship is truly like.

Alaric/Luke, Luke&Magnus, some Maia

Read it on Ao3

1.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” is the first thing Lucian says as soon as he gets inside the loft.

“It’s never a bother,” Magnus answers easily, making a dismissive gesture with his hand that also serves to put the books he was reading back into place. He can research some other time. “Although I can’t say I’m not intrigued. What brings you to my loft at this time?”

It’s not late, per se, but it’s not Magnus’ working hours, either, and he knows for a fact Lucian would usually be with his pack at this hour, if he weren’t at work.

“I just- needed a place to clear my head.” Lucian has this way of hesitating while still sounding resolute, the little pause in the phrase not affecting his steady tone in the slightest. He looks at Magnus, and the pleading he sees in his eyes is dignified, more of a question than anything. “I didn’t have a lot of places to go.” He shrugs, keeping eye contact with him.

“Ah, I see. Well, good thing my loft is always open for the wanderers of the world,” Magnus jokes, opening the door for him, and Lucian huffs at his antics. The door closes behind him softly, and Magnus feels himself relax just a bit at this barrier between him and the outside world. “I assume you're having issues with your pack, since you don’t seem to want to go there," he says, allowing the gentleness to slip into his voice.

Lucian almost smiles. “I suppose it doesn’t take a detective to figure that one out.”

“No, but my great intelligence does help,” he winks. Lucian laughs, so he takes that as a win. “Drink? You seem like the whiskey type,” he says, extending his hand and magicking a glass into it. When Lucian doesn’t take it, he tilts his head and adds, “but I’ve been wrong before.”

“Not wrong,” Lucian shakes his head, smiling, and finally taking the glass from Magnus’ hand. Magnus tries not to let his pleasure at that show too much. “I just don’t know if it’s the smartest idea. I haven’t eaten yet,” he admits.

“We can fix that,” Magnus shrugs. “Any preference?”

“Teriyaki,” Lucian answers immediately, then seems to catch himself. “I’ll pay.”

“No need,” Magnus waves him away, “beef?”

Lucian’s eyes shine, and Magnus laughs as he magicks him a generous bowl. He also changes Lucian’s whiskey to sake, just for good measure. The man seems like he needs a good meal. Lucian smiles and shakes his head, almost fondly, but doesn’t comment, so neither does Magnus.

“So,” Magnus says as he finally sits down on his seat, crossing his legs slowly, “pack problems? The kind everyone should be worried about, or the ‘Russell is driving everyone crazy again’ kind?”

“It’s more my problem than the pack’s,” Lucian admits, taking a bite of his meal. “Alaric and I fought.”

“Ah, I see,” Magnus says, “so he sent you out to sleep on the couch and you came here instead?”

“Something like that,” Lucian smiles, and he would look amused by the situation if it wasn't so clear how tired he was. “It was nothing serious, just work stress. He wanted to follow a lead he found, I thought we had a better shot talking to a witness first. It- escalated.”

Magnus hums and stays silent, urging him to continue.

“He called me a stubborn asshole, then we split up. And now our shift is over, and I’d have to head back home, but…” He only pauses for a second, then shrug, that same resoluteness making its way back to his demeanor. “I found myself heading the other direction.”

“I see,” Magnus says, playing with his earlobe, trying to hide his nervousness. He really shouldn’t be out there giving relationship advice, he thinks. Not when all he has to show for himself is a heart broken to pieces by rejection and humiliation. Not when just the thought of a fight like that, tame as this sounds to be, makes him flinch like he’s about to be shoved against the wall by hands he hasn’t felt in decades.

And yet.

“Forgive me if this sounds insensitive, but this doesn’t sound like a very serious fight. I’m sure he’ll come around,” he says. “And it’s probably best for you to talk.” Magnus is a firm believer in communication. He is. Even if he also knows how hard it can be.

Besides, Alaric is the one who’s upset. Lucian should probably talk to him.

“I know,” Lucian says, shaking his head. “But he said that he was tired. That I didn’t trust him. That I thought he wasn’t good enough.” He sighs, then rubs his face in his hands, and suddenly he looks very, very old, older than he should. “I can deal with ‘stubborn asshole’, I know that I am. But him thinking that it’s got to do with me not trusting him…” he shakes his head, sounding sad. “I don’t know how to fix something like that,” he admits, playing with his cup lightly, watching as the drink swishes in his hand, but not drinking anything. It occurs to Magnus that this might be the first time he’s seen Lucian lose his warrior stance.

Magnus forgets he used to be a shadowhunter.

He considers his words carefully. “Sometimes, during fights like these, our worst insecurities break out,” he says. “It doesn’t mean that he truly believes, deep down, that you don’t trust him. It might just mean that he wants you to show that more. Reassurance is always important,” he says, keeping his tone as soft as possible. Like Lucian is going to scoff at an idea so ridiculous, throw something at him, and leave.

Instead, he sighs again, seemingly fitting back into his body. “I know. But I feel like I failed him.” He finally looks up from his drink, his eyes meeting Magnus’, and there is fire there, some sort of force that moves him forward, but seems to be mostly directed at himself. “I don’t cope well with that.”

“Shadowhunter upbringing will do that to you,” Magnus says, tilting his head slightly, eyebrows raised. His voice comes out like a long sigh, and Lucian flinches.

Magnus softens. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. You probably already get a lot of that,” he says. Lucian is still settling into being a downworlder, and even as it’s been a few years, well, the history is hard to ignore.

“I do,” he says, matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” He looks at his sake again, then dives in for some more teriyaki, clearly taking the time to consider his next words. “I think that’s also why I feel like such a failure. I’m trying. I don’t want to keep acting like I’m - superior to anyone.”

Magnus almost answers, then don’t, the sourness at the words settling in his tongue. He swallows it, though, knowing that, at the moment, Lucian is more vulnerable than any of them. He lost everything, and he’s trying to build himself back up. And he’s trying to do better. Surely all downworlders understand what that’s like, don’t they?

Besides, who is Magnus to judge?

He shoves that thought to the back of his head.

“Change is a hard thing,” is what he settles on saying, “and if you really want it, then you have to listen,” he gives him a pointed look, “and talk to him. Of course, there are also your-” he makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, “personal problems into that mix, and that in itself should be enough for you to want to talk to him. But besides that, if you really want to do better- to undo all that’s been built into you, then you also need to listen to the people who are willing to call you out.” There’s a little pause as he considers how to continue. “You need to bare your heart,” he says, like he isn’t the world’s biggest hypocrite, like the mere notion doesn’t terrify him to the very core, like he can’t hear the well deserved snicker he would get from that. But he keeps going, “make him feel listened to. Let him know you care. It’s painful, but it’s the only way forward.”

He knows that. He does, deep in his heart.

Just because he chose to be stuck, doesn’t mean others should, too.

It’s not like he has a choice, anyway. He is stuck. Lost in time, forever.

Lucian swallows. “You’re right,” he says, oblivious to Magnus’ internal turmoil. The glass is still in his hand, and he’s still looking up at Magnus. “I guess this is the last thing I’ve ever been trained to do.”

“Well, isn’t that exactly the problem you’re trying to fix?”

“It is,” Lucian nods, suddenly standing up. “Thank you, Magnus.”

“Anytime,” Magnus says.

Lucian closes the door behind him, and Magnus flops back into the couch with a sigh. He drinks Lucian’s sake, just for good measure.

2.

It’s only a few weeks later that Theo calls Magnus in to update the pack’s wards. When he gets there, Lucian and Alaric are sitting together at a table, Alaric’s arm extended casually on the backrest around Lucian’s shoulders.

“Hello, Alaric, Lucian,” he nods in their direction. “Glad to know everything is alright.”

Lucian smiles up at him, and Magnus gets to work.

3.

A shadow world murder has fallen into the radar of the mundane police, and Magnus is called in for help.

It’s Luc- Luke, he reminds himself, it’s what he’s asked to go by now - who makes the call, which surprises him. Usually, it would be the shadowhunters, the first few years, then Theo himself. It’s the first time Luke calls him directly. Which he supposes saves them some time, and he takes this change in routine with the same pleasure he did as when he got Theo’s first call, saying that Luke had referred to him instead of the Lightwoods this time.

Apparently, now Luke trusts himself enough to do it without mediators.

Or Theo does.

Either way, Magnus is pleased.

He portals in an alleyway, then does his best impression of walking into the crime scene like someone who used mundane ways of transportation. Luke smiles up warmly at him, and Magnus is a little taken aback. They haven’t properly talked in a couple of years.

Not that that’s a lot of time for Magnus, but he supposed it would be for Luke.

Something warms settles into him as he realizes that clearly, it’s not.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he says, offering him a mug of coffee.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Magnus says politely, waving it away with two fingers.

“Right. More of a tea person. Alaric, do we have black tea?”

“Why would we have black tea?”

“Well, we have coffee, it seems fair.”

“This is a crime scene, Luke.”

Magnus laughs. “It’s alright, don’t be bothered,” he says, “I did just eat, anyway.” Well, that’s a lie. He was about to eat, when he got their call. But it doesn’t matter. “And I’d rather get to business. Demon attack?”

“Forsaken,” Alaric corrects, and Luke nods beside him. Magnus makes a little grimace.

“Ah, nasty little ones. The victim?”

“Mundane,” Luke says. Oh, fantastic. Magnus thanks his lucky stars that Luke is already past calling the shadowhunters for backup in these situations. They would have a field day trying to use this as an excuse for something.

“There’s not much to do. Mundane police won’t be able to identify what killed him, will probably write it off as an animal attack. But he’s going to go into the morgue very soon, so…” Alaric trails off.

“Best to conduct a proper investigation while we can,” Magnus nods, kneeling by the body and inspecting it with his magic. He concentrates on the body, finding the usual magical trails of a forsaken attack; demonic magic so faint and pointless Magnus can't help but feel a little sad. The victim had type 1 diabetes, a healthy liver, smoked a few times in their life but was overall healthy for a 40 years old. They had the usual with them - wallet and phone, no missed calls. They would be able to identify the victim easily, despite the mess it was made of their face. There’s also hair near the wounds, which he takes from the body as delicately and respectfully as he can.

When he turns around, he sees that Luke and Alaric had been keeping an eye to make sure that no one sees him. Right.

“Sorry about that,” he says easily, “I get a little lost in it, sometimes. But," he raises his hand to show them the hair, "I did find this.”

“Hair,” Luke says, crossing his arms. Alaric easily falls into step beside him, and Luke steps aside so they’re both in the same proximity to Magnus. The gesture seems deliberate, and Magnus can see that Alaric gives him a little pat on the shoulder. He can’t help but smile, trying not to let his longing show. They’re really coming around. Luke is- changing. And they seem to be happy. Both of them.

He tries not to dwell on that. “That it is,” he says. “Definitely from the Forsaken’s. We can track them now, and find whoever’s responsible for this.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alaric says.

“It’s my pleasure. Well," he pauses, trying to give it some timing, "not really, but you'll forgive me for that". Alaric huffs, and Luke laughs.

“Let us know what you find,” Luke nods at him.

“Of course.”

*

The Forsaken turns out to be a shadowhunter’s doing, apparently with a really bad plan to show the clave how bad downworlders are.

He is also not the greatest fighter Magnus has ever taken.

They subdue him fairly easily, then endure his anticlimactic villain speech. When he snickers at Luke, Alaric gives him a punch in the face.

When he laughs and spits in Luke's direction for having one of them defend him, it’s Luke who does.

*

After they hand the shadowhunter over to the clave, Magnus heals both of their split hands, free of charge. If anything, because the punching ordeal was entertaining to watch.

He heals Alaric first, just in time for him to have to pick up a call from the station and politely go to another room.

Magnus smiles up at Luke. “I wouldn’t expect two police officers to be this bad at throwing a punch.”

Luke shrugs. “We have more of a desk job. And usually, when we fight, it’s in wolf form.”

“‘We’, huh,” Magnus says, eyes catching light. “You guys seem to be more of a team than ever.”

Luke seems taken aback, but pleased. “We are,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the grin on his face. “I’ve been making sure of that.”

“It’s working,” Magnus says, patting Luke’s now-healed hand. Then, in a moment of unexpected vulnerability, he adds, “it’s inspiring to watch.”

Magnus has been- trying. Hard. So hard. But it still feels like the abyss between him and the rest of the world is too big, like he’s too much. Seeing the safety and companionship between Luke and Alaric - it hurts almost as much as it gives him hope.

Maybe there is some payoff in baring your heart, after all.

4.

“Hello, Luke,” Magnus says as he opens the door. It feels a lot like the first - and last - time this happened all those years ago; the way Luke shows up unannounced, late at night, looking as lost as he usually allows himself to be. But it also doesn’t; last time, Luke had been miserable, and now, even as he’s biting his lip and shifting a little in nervousness, he looks anything but - there’s a glimmer of fire and hope and even excitement in his eyes. He doesn’t look like a man who doesn’t know where he’s going; he looks like one who is, but isn’t quite sure what to do to get there.

He looks like someone who’s actively reaching out for help.

It’s inspiring, Magnus thinks, an echo of a previous sentiment.

“Hey, Magnus,” Luke answers curtly, raising his hand in an almost wave. He closes the door swiftly behind him, and Magnus settles into his couch, summoning himself a martini. This looks like it’ll be a long talk. “I’m sorry for barging in.”

Magnus shrugs. “Perks of being the High Warlock,” he says, gesturing to his couch. “Besides, I don’t mind. Just make sure you get me some more of that Moo Shu,” he adds, almost an afterthought. He throws in a wink for good measure.

Luke looks like he would be chuckling, but is a bit too lost in his own head for that. Magnus sighs. “But you have my attention. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We have a new member in our pack.” Luke answers, the words leaving him all at once.

“Oh.”

Magnus pauses for a second, and Luke just stares at him as he finally starts putting himself to motion.

He stands up. “Are they alright? Hurt? Do you need me to heal them, or someone else? Or- is this a feral situation? You could’ve called me-”

“No, no, no,” Luke says, making calming gestures with his hands. “Sorry, I should have led with that. No, uh, we rescued her a while ago. Well- I did.”

Oh. Magnus sits back down, very slowly, then gestures for Luke to do the same. “I see,” he says, slowly, even if he had more questions than before. What does Luke need him for, then? He’s been known to assist when new downworlders are found, of course, but usually people want him to help with the- more emergencial parts of the job. “And are you having problems?”

“No, not at all. She’s doing pretty well, actually,” he says, running a hand over his neck absentmindedly. “But she’s just a teenager, you know?” His voice sounds soft, almost a sigh. “She had no family. And I took her in, and it feels- different.”

Magnus frowns, and Luke chuckles.

“Last one to join the pack was Alaric. That was- years ago. Things are different now. I already knew him from the station, even if we hadn’t been friends before that. And… Well, I was a little new, too.”

“A year is hardly new,” Magnus says.

“You know it is,” Luke counters.

He smiles, humourlessly. “I do.”

“And I felt lonely, too. The pack didn’t trust me, for obvious reasons. I was drowning in guilt and I was lost, and helping Alaric settle into being a werewolf- it helped me settle, too. And helped the pack trust me, when I helped him. Well, I’m sure he also made a point to tell them to include me,” he chuckles slowly, “But the thing is, I was also figuring myself out. Now it’s different. I’m older. I’ve found my place with them. She’s my responsibility.”

Magnus supposes he understands that. Luke had been alone most of his life. The closest he had to family was the Circle, and that- didn’t end well.

Magnus understands what that feels like.

But also- “Not just yours,” he says, softly. “You have a whole pack with you.”

“I know,” he says, “It’s what I told her. The pack is a family. We’re all on her corner. But I found her. It took her a while to even agree to go to Jade Wolf with me and Alaric. She’s looking up to me, now. And I don’t want to let her down.” He pauses, looking up so his eyes can meet Magnus’, and Magnus realizes that Luke had been hunching over, “What the pack gave me- a chance at a new life, a chance of redemption. A family like I’ve never had before. Not based on blood and hatred, but on care. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“And you want to give her the same.”

Luke nods. “Yes. I want her to feel as grateful- as happy as I feel now, looking at the pack.”

“That’s a beautiful sentiment,” Magnus says, looking down at his glass. “I think that in itself is more than enough to make sure you are on the right path.”

“You can’t do well enough with just sentiment,” Luke argues.

“No. But you definitely won’t if your heart is on the wrong place.” He raises his eyebrows at Luke, just for emphasis. “And you’re clearly trying to do good on that feeling, if you came to me in the middle of the night just for that.” He pauses, “Although, other than reassuring you of that, I’m not sure how else I can help you with that.”

“I just figured you’d have a few tips,” he shrugs. “I know you’ve been on that situation, too.”

Not the same situation, Magnus thinks. He didn’t have a family to back him up already.

Then he thinks back. Thinks of how Ragnor and Cat and even Dot were there for him and Raphael. Thinks of how the two of them built their own little family in each other.

It has to start somewhere, doesn’t it?

Magnus stops, opens his mouth. Then pauses, takes a sip of his drink. Luke just stares at him, still looking open and so hopeful, and in that moment Luke looks younger than he ever has before, to Magnus.

“Also,” he adds, rubbing his own neck again, “she told me she’s trans, too. It’s, uh, why she didn’t have a family before.”

“Oh.” Magnus says again, a little dumbly.

“It’s not the only reason I came to you, but I figured you could help me, make sure I don’t miss the mark with her?” It sounds more like a question than an affirmation, and Magnus chuckles.

“It’s okay. It just took me by surprise, is all,” he takes another sip of his drink, “Just try not to make assumptions, I’d say is the most important part. Ask her what she wants. Make sure you respect that,” he shrugs. “Let her know you’ll be by her side should anything happen, that you wouldn’t blame her. Support her. You know. The usual deal with having kids.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“Fair enough,” he raises an eyebrow, “but just because you haven’t raised any kids before, doesn’t mean you don’t know the basics. We want what everyone else wants. To belong.” To not be alone.

He pauses. “I can talk to her, if you want. I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable knowing she’s not the only one in the shadow world. But really, Luke, I think you will do just fine.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Magnus moves to say something else, but there’s a knock on the door. So what he ends up with is, “hold that thought.”

He moves to answer it. It’s only polite.

“Magnus,” Alaric says, sounding scared, almost pleading, “is Luke here?”

“He is.” Alaric moves right past him in a haze, and he sighs. “Safe and sound, I might add,” he calls out, a tilting of annoyance in his voice, which Alaric thoroughly ignores, but that Luke shoots him an apologetic look for.

“Luke,” Alaric says, his voice sounding like a comfort, and Magnus suddenly feels like he’s the one breaking in. “What happened? I woke up and couldn’t find you anywhere, I thought-”

“I just needed to clear my head,” Luke interrupts. Then he adds, as softly as he can, “I’m sorry.”

Understanding downs on Alaric’s face, easily, like Luke's feelings come to him as second nature. “Is this about Maia?”

“If Maia is the newest werewolf in your pack, then yes,” Magnus says, pouring himself another drink.

Alaric nods. “She is. Has been glued to Luke over here ever since he found her. I’m surprised she wasn’t the one to notice.” There’s something almost like a challenge there, a callout that Magnus doesn’t miss, and neither does Luke, judging by the way his posture stiffens. But there is also gentleness and care, “I left a note saying we went out to visit Magnus.”

“How did you know he was here?” Magnus is genuinely curious about that. Luke and him are friends, but Magnus is not exactly his closest friend. Although, now that he thinks of it, he might be, if you disconsider the pack.

Alaric shrugs, finally turning to look at Magnus. He does look apologetic, at least. “It’s not like him to disappear in the middle of the night like this. I figured he needed help. And you are-”

The High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus thinks.

“Someone we trust,” is what Alaric says.

“Oh,” Magnus answers again, trying to hide his smile behind his cup. These two are really set out to surprise him, today.

Alaric turns back to Luke, brushing off the moment casually. “You could have talked to me, Lukes.”

“I didn’t want to burden you with that. And Magnus here has experience with downworlder kids, you know.”

“Technically, Raphael was a young adult when I found him.”

“Technically, so is Maia,” Alaric shrugs. “But Luke. You know it’s not like that. The only thing you could possibly burden me with was going out trying to look for you at fuck o’clock in the middle of the night.” He reaches out to cup Luke’s face with his hand, and Magnus suddenly realizes that Alaric kneeled so him and Luke could be on eye-level. The movement was so swift none of them noticed.

Luke laughs, and the motion makes him turn a bit to meet Alaric’s hand, a hidden kind of nuzzle. “I didn’t expect this to be the one night where you weren’t completely passed out.”

“I don’t pass out.”

“I once threw a bucket of water on you and you didn’t flinch.”

“I had been shot that week.”

“You snore like a damn stereotype-”

“Luke.”

Luke sighs.

“Like i said. I’m sorry. I just needed to clear my head.”

Magnus looks at the pair of them, and sighs. “You put too much weight on your shoulders,” he comments. “Whatever you do, you’re clearly not doing this alone. So..." he shrugs, suddenly feeling sheepish, "don’t act like you are.”

Alaric looks up at Magnus, and smiles. “See? This is why I knew he’d have come to you.”

Then he turns back to Luke, “he’s right, you know. You’re not alone.”

It’s Luke’s turn to smile. “I know.”

There’s an uncomfortable beat, and they just look at each other.

“Well, now that Alaric has come to collect you, I do believe you should both head back to the Jade Wolf. Maia will probably want you two around, and contrary to popular belief, I do sleep sometimes.”

“Sorry for that,” Luke says, but his smile is too bright for Magnus to really mean it, “All the Moo Shu you could possibly want is yours.”

“Oh, I’m counting on that.”

5.

Some years later, Theo steps down from being a leader, and Luke is appointed the new Alpha. Unsurprisingly, Alaric is his second-in-command.

There’s a party going on at Jade Wolf, and well- Magnus is usually not one to miss those. When he gets there, everyone is already considerably drunk, and he suddenly regrets his choice of bringing some whiskey with him. Especially when it’s immediately taken away by an over-excited Russell. At least he hands it straight to Maia. Magnus knows, by this point, that she can be trusted with anything, specially expensive drinks.

Her eyes are glinting and she smiles as she starts making someone a cocktail, and Magnus gives her a little wave that she answers enthusiastically.

She’s so bright. She looks nothing like the girl Magnus had met all that time ago, silent and scared. But she looks like the girl Magnus knew she could be - there was that same gentle fire in her eyes, strength and compassion and love for life even after everything she went through.

She lets the scars she once did everything to hid show, like she’s proud of who she is, and Magnus almost envies her.

But really, he feels too happy to.

Especially so when he bumps into Raphael.

“My boy,” Magnus smiles, and Raphael does too, even as he clearly looks a little put off by all the lights and noises in the place. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Raphael shrugs, like it’s no big deal that a vampire is at a werewolf party. “Thought it’d be good to come. You know, diplomacy and all that. Marcos and some of the others were here, too, but they already left.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Oh, I’ve just been talking to Maia. She’s the bartender. Luke’s protege. She’s nice.”

“She is,” Magnus answers, aware of the way he softens.

Raphael does a little self deprecating chuckle. “I wouldn’t know. We had been at war for a long time, with- well, you know. This is actually the first time I’ve ever been to Jade Wolf, even after I became clan leader.”

“First time, huh? And what do you think of it?”

“Currently? It’s noisy.”

Magnus laughs, and it’s Raphael’s turn to soften.

“But it’s nice. I think I might be able to take some tips with the wolves, figure out how to bring the clan together again. I remember they were in a pretty rough shape some years ago.”

Magnus melts. He can’t help it. “They grow up so fast,” he jokes, otherwise he’d get way too emotional for the occasion. Raphael rolls his eyes, but there’s no mistaking his smile. “No, really,” Magnus adds, something like nervousness settling into him with the admission, “I’ve missed you.”

Raphael takes his hand almost on instinct, and Magnus relaxes just slightly. “Me too. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the clan, but you know I wouldn’t want to push you out.”

Magnus breathes. “I know.”

“Sorry about that. Theo wanted way too many cocktails, so I had to tell him to calm down. Oh, hey, Magnus,” Maia says, slipping to the booth in front of Raphael like that had been her place the whole night.

Raphael laughs, turning a bit to her. “It’s okay. I know he isn’t exactly easy to negotiate with.”

“When are they ever?”

Raphael’s eyes light up with amusement, and Magnus feels some of his worry slip away. “I should go find Luke,” he decides, patting Raphael’s shoulder lightly.

He’s surprised when Raphael turns to him fully before he can leave. “I’ll go visit you tomorrow,” he says, with finality.

“Okay,” is all Magnus answers, but there’s no hiding his grin.

*

Luke has his arm draped over Alaric’s shoulders, and both of them are definitely drunk. They’re also holding huge glasses of beer. “Magnus!” he says, waving at him over Alaric.

“Hello, Luke,” Magnus says, amused, “I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you!” Luke smiles, gesturing for Magnus to take another cup. Magnus conjures himself a martini instead. “You’re going to offend Maia.”

“Then don’t tell her,” he winks.

“Fair enough,” Alaric responds, smile broad and carefree, and then he shrugs when Luke turns at him, still not taking his arm off his shoulders. “What? It’s true.”

“He should have some of Maia’s cocktails.”

Luke makes almost offended gestures to emphasize his point, and Magnus can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, I will. I’m just giving her some time first. She’s been busy today.”

“She’s a great bartender.”

Magnus laughs again. “Oh, I’m well aware of that. Best Sangria I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve had a lot of Sangria in my lifetime.”

Luke beams. “See!”

“Stop being so dramatic, you know I’m as proud of her as you are. I just said the kid deserves a break,” Alaric rolls his eyes, but there’s no mistaking the affection there.

Magnus takes a sip of his martini. “Either way, I just wanted to say congratulations, Luke. You’ve done well to deserve this position.”

“Thanks,” Luke answers, suddenly seeming to sober up. He looks up at Alaric, his eyes soft and shining in a way that has nothing to do with the lights. “I never thought I’d get here.”

They look at each other, small smiles on their faces, like their success is one and the same. And Magnus supposes it is.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” he says to both of them, and leaves them to it.

+1

“I was getting used to not seeing you in my doorstep,” Magnus says in lieu of a greeting, opening the door without moving from his place in his seat. “I don’t suppose this is pack business.”

“No, sorry. I’m just- kind of freaking out.”

His voice sounds a bit too calm for someone who’s freaking out, so Magnus frowns at him. “Did something happen?” he asks, finally closing his book. Who was he kidding? Of course he wasn’t going to be able to read it.

“Not really. Except it did. I’m just- I don’t know, you’re the only bisexual person I know, and I thought-”

Magnus’ frown deepens. What does that have to do with anything? “I’m afraid I’m not following,” he says sincerely, trying to look as open as possible.

“I just…” Luke bites his lip, then straightens his shoulders, and tries again, “I think I’m bisexual, too. And it’s probably late to be realizing that, I know. And I feel so blind and stupid that I never realized it before, but- well, it makes sense. But also, realizing that came with realizing that I’m in love with Alaric, and I don’t know what to do with that part. We’ve been partners for so long, and I’ve always had him in my corner, and I guess I just settled into it. And that’s fine. But now I feel like I might ruin that, maybe already have just from realizing it, and I don’t know what to do with this anymore, and I know you’re probably just going to tell me to tell him like I know I should, but well. I figured you might have something to say that I haven’t thought of. Also, this is the first time I tell anyone. There is that, too.” He exhales. “Sorry. That was probably a lot.”

Magnus blinks. Once, twice. Opens his mouth. Then frowns yet again.

“Wait,” he says as slowly as he can, while his brain finishes connecting all the dots. “You and Alaric aren't married?"

[normal-thoughts-official]

Morning News

Raphael and Magnus make it a tradition to have breakfast together on wednesdays.

It's Raphael's preferred time to tell Magnus about his love life.

Read it on Ao3

Relationships: Magnus Bane & Raphael Santiago, Meliorn/Raphael Santiago, Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago, Isabelle Lightwood/Meliorn (mentioned briefly), Raphael Santiago & Madzie Loss (mentioned), Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (mentioned)

Rating: T

“So, you’re dating Meliorn now,” Magnus says, casually, as he adds criminal amounts of sugar to the leaves for his morning tea. Usually, he conjures it up, but there’s a secret little pleasure in making his own tea sometimes, one that he finds himself wanting to indulge in when Raphael comes over for breakfast. Maybe because it feels like a normal routine with his family, and he knows it’s important for the both of them to be able to touch and make their food sometimes. Maybe because Raphael always looks at him like he’s committing murder as he does it. It’s anyone’s guess, really.

“That’s disgusting,” Raphael says, almost automatically at this point, as he also pours sugar and cinnamon into his coffee water. It’s not sugar, it’s piloncillo, Raphael’s voice answers automatically into Magnus’ head, even as neither of them say anything. And I don’t leave it at the bottom of the cup, I just put it in the water. What’s even the point of leaving sugar at the bottom?

It changes the taste, Magnus would say. Bullshit, Raphael would answer, before going on a rant about how he needed to make his coffee in a clay pot or else it would be pointless.

Family traditions. They did them both good.

“If you find that disgusting, I’d suggest that you don’t date them, then,” Magnus jokes.

Raphael rolls his eyes. “I’m talking about your weird sugar leaf thing.”

“It’s called tea.”

“Is it, though?”

“So judgy,” Magnus mumbles, “One would think you’re the black coffee, no sugar type. Instead you’re pouring entire blocks of sugar into your coffee water.”

“It’s piloncillo.”

“That’s a block of sugar.”

“No.”

“It literally is.”

“Besides, this coffee is way stronger than black coffee.” Raphael continues, like Magnus hasn’t just made a great point. “But it actually tastes good. It’s the best thing to lift you up in the morning. Tea doesn’t do anything.”

“That’s black tea,” Magnus argues. “It has caffeine.”

“As in, the substance that comes from coffee?” Raphael asks, utterly unable to stop a smile from breaking out.

Magnus huffs and resists the urge to throw something at him. It’s hard to be mad when Raphael’s smiling so wide, big and carefree like Magnus barely got to witness before. When he got to Magnus’ loft today, he practically had a skip on his step, visibly straining not to move around the house at superspeed like a fledgeling struggling to control themself. He burst all the windows open, as he always did, basking in the sunlight as he brewed his morning coffee. For three years he had been a daylighter, and it still seemed to be just as exhilarating to feel the sunlight.

Magnus can’t blame him.

Besides, he’s only recently become able to drink again - thanks to Madzie and a potion she had designed for that specific purpose. It isn’t perfect; it only allows him to drink, and a limited amount per day, and the addition of solid foods like piloncillo could make him sick if he wasn’t really, really careful about dissolving them. Still, the first time he managed to make himself café de olla, he cried to the point of shaking in Magnus’ arms.

I used to be a morning person, he had told Magnus once. The early sunlight and café de olla used to be what got Raphael to start his day, made him feel alive. He had lost both of them.

And now he had them back.

He watches Raphael as he laughs to himself a little longer, sunlight covering his frame and making it look as if it's Raphael himself who shines. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he says.

Raphael’s laugh turns into a smile, soft on every edge like he can’t get enough of it. “Yeah,” he says.

“Does Meliorn have anything to do with that?” Magnus asks teasingly as he takes the first sip of his tea.

“Maybe,” Raphael hums. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Magnus sits on his chair, takes another sip of his tea, pretends his smile is just because it tastes good. “Tell me about it,” he says.

Raphael looks unsure, in the way he always does when he has to put feelings into words, even when it’s just him and Magnus. Magnus has a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t know how to do it when he’s alone, either. He signals towards the chair, and Raphael smiles gratefully, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing in content.

“I trust them,” he says after a few moments of uncertainty. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but… I haven’t trusted someone like that in a long time.”

Magnus hums. “You can’t have a relationship without trust.”

“I know,” Raphael says. “It’s, it’s almost weird. In a good way, I suppose. With me, they’re always so- honest. I know they can’t lie, and I also know that they can deceive, and trick, and that they’re good at that. But with me, they’ve always been. Straightforward. But open. You know what I mean?”

Magnus nods. “It’s the seelie way. Once they trust, they don’t see any reason to hide their meaning.”

Raphael smiles again, looking warm in a way that has nothing to do with the coffee, or the sunlight. “I suppose.”

“Trust me. I’ve been in relationships with them before. The wordplay, the twisting… It’s a way to protect yourself. Truth can make you vulnerable, and seelies are tied to that vulnerability. If they choose to let go of those… It means a lot to them.” He pauses, “it’s not really that different from the rest of us.”

“It isn't,” Raphael says.

“So do you trust them to see your truth, then?”

Raphael pauses. “I’m trying. Words aren’t- I’m not good with them.”

Magnus hums again, understanding in a way that’s almost too real for Raphael to handle. “Words aren’t the only thing you can use to speak, my boy. I’d say they might be the least important one.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I’ve tried- flowers. I know that they mean a lot to seelies. I picked them by meaning, but I tried to make a pretty arrangement, I kept them all healthy. Meliorn liked them.”

Magnus thinks it would be a shame to hide his smile behind the teacup again, so he doesn’t. Raphael looks a little sheepish, but not really embarrassed; more like he can’t believe that he’s enjoying all of this. “And what flowers did you choose?” Magnus asks.

Raphael bites his lip and looks away, and Magnus is sure that he would be blushing if he could. But he answers without any more prompting. “Peony. Happy life. Fern; sincerity, magic, and bonds of love. Hydrangea - gratitude for being understood. Cornflower…” the next words leave him in almost a whisper, “be gentle with me.”

Magnus whistles involuntarily, reaching out to grab Raphael’s hand on the counter. Raphael lets him, opens his palm and lets Magnus’ thumb draw circles over it, even if he’s still not looking at him. “That’s a powerful combination. I’m proud of you.”

Raphael scoffs, and that won’t do, so Magnus continues. “I mean it. It’s very honest. Very vulnerable. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to hand someone a bouquet like that.”

“I know,” Raphael says, “but I wanted to.”

“And for that, I’m proud.”

Raphael smiles again, but once his eyes meet Magnus’ again, it’s morphed into a serious expression. “Thank you,” he says.

“Did Meliorn answer?”

“Not immediately,” Raphael admits, “said they wanted time to make something worthy in response. But they took them. Said, I’m touched. Kissed my hand.” He mumbles, “they do that a lot.”

“At the risk of squealing like a schoolgirl at your answer, what did they give you in return?”

Raphael smiles again. “Fennel. Flattery. Jonquil. Affection returned. White lily. My love is pure. Yellow tulip.”

“Sunshine in your smile,” Magnus can’t help but finish. It’s one of the deepest expressions of affection for seelies. It’s also secretly one of Magnus’ favorite flower meanings.

Raphael smiles, and so does Magnus. He can’t help it; Raphael glows. Meliorn is definitely not far off the mark with that flower.

“Stop looking so giddy,” Raphael says.

“How could I? My boy is living a romance!”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Some old-fashioned courtship, hand kissing, flower trading. The new generation isn’t completely lost after all.”

“Oh my God-”

“One could say you’re living a real life faerie tale.”

Raphael groans, and Magnus laughs, joyful and free. Raphael pulls his hand away and hides his face in his own arms, but it’s worth it for the way his eyes shine when he peeks back up at Magnus. Magnus will get him to admit that he likes his puns one day. He will.

Silence covers them once Magnus stops laughing, refreshing and comfortable like bed sheets on a summer night. He doesn’t mind it at all, and he knows that neither does Raphael, but once he puts his cup of tea down, he can’t help but sober up.

“And what about… Isabelle?” he asks, a little uncertain. It’s still a topic he’s unsure how to broach. He’s too close to it from too many sides, and he always feels like he’s running through a shooting when he approaches it. Even now, almost six years after it happened, after they both had time to heal, after it had been established that it wasn’t Raphael’s fault… It still felt way too sensitive to touch.

He knows it’s true too, from the way Raphael sighs. “It’s fine. I haven’t really seen her,” he admits. “We’ve been keeping our distance ever since. And Meliorn understands.” He sighs, “they have time to see us both separately.”

Magnus hums. “You know you won’t be able to avoid her forever, right?”

He expects Raphael to look mildly annoyed, but he just sighs. “I know. They built some kind of a net together, the whole dating group. They meet up every once in a while, this kind of super date. Meliorn invited me to come. They’re not pressuring me, but-” he pauses, rubbing his fingers together.

“You want to.”

Raphael nods. “It’s weird. I barely know Maia and Clary, and Isabelle and I should keep our distance, and it’s been so long since I’ve last seen Simon. But I feel like I could be part of this. Meliorn makes me think I could.”

“I thought Simon and Isabelle weren’t together anymore,” Magnus frowns.

“They aren’t. Simon and Maia are.”

“Ah. Awkward situation for Simon,” Magnus says, making a face. He feels a little guilty that he’s so out of touch with them. He’s been trying to keep in touch with New York - and being a warlock, it isn’t hard. His and Alec’s loft is both in New York and in Alicante, thanks to a little wormhole trick he did with his magic. But most of his professional life is in Alicante now, and as such, he ends up only seeing New York when he wants to be see his closest friends there - either visiting Catarina and Madzie, or having his breakfasts with Raphael - well, for him they are afternoon tea, but it doesn't matter. “Do you want to see her?” he asks after a pause.

Raphael stops, like he’s really thinking about it. “I don’t know,” he admits, “But I feel ready to see her, if that makes sense.”

Magnus isn’t sure if it does, so he gestures for him to continue. Raphael sighs, running a hand through his hair in the way he does when words fail him, like he's trying to scramble the inside of his head through the outside.

“When Izzy and I first met, I was in a more delicate state. I knew I was about to lose my sister. The world was at war. I had just started leading the NY clan, and there was so much pressure, and I was lost. Of course, shadowhunter blood is addictive on its own. But by that point… I craved anything that could bring me some relief.”

Magnus shudders like he’s been punched. “I’m sorry,” he says, almost automatically.

Raphael reaches for his hand, swiping his thumb over Magnus’ hand in a reedition of what Magnus had done to him just moments ago, and Magnus feels like a mortal father being hit with the realization that he’s old. The gesture is like Magnus’, but isn’t; it’s Raphael’s own, adapted by him. He feels a little humbled by his relationship with this boy, a boy he didn’t actually raise, but who still felt so much like Magnus himself. They were so similar and different, and Raphael had taken a lot from Magnus, but he had also made everything his. And right now, he was comforting Magnus, something that was unimaginable a few decades ago.

“It’s not your fault,” Raphael says, seriously. “It wasn’t easy for you, either.”

Magnus looks away. “I didn’t throw myself into addiction. I didn’t even notice-”

“That wasn’t your job,” Raphael cuts him off, his voice leaving no room for argument, dry and challenging and also similar to Magnus’ own. “You were there for me, Magnus. There was just - too much.”

They look at each other, Magnus feeling shattered and Raphael looking resolute. It’s a weird battle of wills, because Raphael can’t quite outstubborn Magnus’ sadness, but Magnus can’t really blame himself when Raphael leaves no room for argument like this.

Raphael draws back. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s different now. We’re relatively peaceful. Things are looking up. I’m more settled into being clan leader. They’re my family. The Dumort is a home, not a lair. I have you, and Catarina, and Madzie. And Meliorn too, now. I’m not about to risk anything, of course, but I don’t think I’d have that terrible call, that need for a hit, just from seeing Isabelle. I’m not saying it isn’t delicate, but I can manage. I have a good support network. And I know she does, too.”

Magnus snorts. “Three partners just in the romantic sphere, at this point she better.”

Raphael chuckles, then immediately freezes like he’s surprised at himself. Magnus frowns. He wasn’t expecting that reaction.

“What is it, my boy?” he asks, as comforting as he can.

“I. I guess I just thought this would be weird for you to talk about. You know, one soul at a time and all that.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “I’d never judge you over something like this, Raphael,” he says, sincerely. Or anyone, for that matter; but especially not Raphael, who felt almost as much a part of him as his own magic, and for whom the soft morning lit loft felt like home as much as it did to Magnus.

Raphael shakes his head, and takes another sip of his coffee, like he’s embarrassed at himself. Soon he’ll reach his intake limit at this rate, Magnus knows, and holds back a comment. Raphael can take care of himself. Besides, he’s too stubborn to listen to Magnus, when it comes to things like these.

He just has to trust he won’t go over his limit.

“I know that,” Raphael says, sincerely. “But this feels so new, even to me. I was just surprised that it came so naturally to you.”

Magnus holds back a smile at that comment. Just when he was telling himself that Raphael was an adult, now. “I keep forgetting how young you are,” he says, amused.

Raphael scowls so fast Magnus almost gets dizzy. “And what does that mean?” he says, in the threatening tone of someone who’s considering throwing a pea at you.

“Nothing bad,” he says with a dismissive hand gesture, “it’s just that, when you’ve lived long enough, you’ll see a little bit of everything. Know many cultures. See many times, and many paradigms,” he explains, “and you’ll see these paradigms get broken and die, and give place to new ones, and once the new ones emerge, people will say, well, it’s always been like this. When really, it feels like just last week it was the exact opposite,” he chuckles. “Where I was born, many people weren’t monogamous. As I grew up, I got to visit so many places, see so many different cultures. We call monogamy ‘traditional family’, but it really hasn’t been around for all that long. I couldn’t be unfamiliar with it if I tried,” he says sincerely.

Raphael’s smile is tentative, shy, like he’s simultaneously thinking himself an idiot and not daring to believe. ��I guess. It just always seemed so… Set in stone, to you.”

“Well,” Magnus pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. “For me, yes. I’ve always been- dedicated, when it comes to love. It isn’t always a good thing,” his eyes run away from Raphael’s at these words, almost on instinct, and he makes the effort to look at him again, “But it is a choice, above all. I choose to keep one relationship at a time. I choose to follow this model. I think it’s what fits me the most, really. But I’m not everyone. And I’m definitely not you.”

Raphael might be a part of Magnus, but that doesn’t mean he belongs to him. It only means that Raphael’s happiness is as much of Magnus’ happiness as his own. And as similar as they are in every other aspect, Magnus knows that their relationship with love is very different - with Magnus giving it away almost unhealthily, and Raphael holding it so close to his chest it threatens to suffocate him, wanting to be let out, yet scared to.

“So, it doesn’t feel weird to me. Your partner could have a hundred others, I wouldn’t care. As long as it does you good, that’s all that matters, cariño.”

Raphael’s response to the term is immediate, and fills Magnus’ chest with warmth. A wide, happy smile, that he doesn’t try to hide, that crinkles the corners of his eyes and has his shaking his head slightly, happily.

“And it definitely is doing you good,” Magnus decides. It’s no secret to him that Raphael likes it when Magnus speaks spanish to him, even if it’s just the little “dear” - it’s what family feels like, Raphael had said, and Magnus had to pretend he wasn’t bursting from joy and flattery at the comment - but it’s definitely new to see him be so unguardedly appreciative of care.

“Yeah,” Raphael answers, and that’s news, too. “I think it is, kasih.”

Magnus smiles big and wide, and the rest of the morning passes by with them gossiping, happy and home.

*

It’s bordering on two years later when Raphael brings another update.

Well, that’s not exactly true; he’s heard a lot about his other dates with Meliorn, about the first few times he joined the ‘polycule’ game night, about how he slowly started to attend more and more, slowly making a new family for himself there. He’s been there to listen to Raphael talk about the hard conversations he’s had with Izzy, and see them slowly grow to support each other, although from a distance. He’s seen her apologize to him, and Alec, too, for assuming it was his fault, and seen him accept the world’s most awkward hug from Alexander for precisely ten seconds. They aren’t close, and Magnus doesn’t know if they’ll ever be, but they’re okay, and that’s enough. He’s recently become Maia’s right-hand at Taki’s, adding a bit of mexican cuisine and culture to the place, and using it to cook for the homeless at night. Him, Meliorn, and Izzy have been alternating with helping her with her studies when necessary, too (Clary and Simon are not a good combination for that). Him, Simon and Maia are also working on a specific vampires-werewolves alliance, which’s been blossoming. The NY clan is looking more beautiful than ever, with a real living room with games and couches and space, and a lot of colorful decoration to make up for the lack of sunlight, thanks to Raphael’s best efforts. He’s been building family out of everything he touches, he’s been planting their own ingredients for Taki’s, and there’s always a new flower whenever Magnus visits him.

Okay, so he’s had a lot of updates. And all of them are important, and special, and fill Magnus’ heart with joy and pride, that his wonderful boy is building such a happy life for himself.

But this one has him particularly excited. He’s a romantic. Sue him.

It’s Raphael who brings it up, a little dazed as he goes through the steps of making himself pan dulce. It feels familiar, but not; he’s made it many times over the last few years, but never here, in Magnus’ loft, much less for himself.

“So,” he swallows. “Madzie perfected her potion.”

Magnus ceases all movement. “I know,” he says carefully, relaxing his stance and leaning against the counter, close to him. He already knew it, of course, having helped the little girl make her present for her “big bro”. But he also knew what that meant for Raphael. He could eat solid foods now, of any type, as much as he wanted; as long as he took the potion beforehand. For the last year, Raphael had rejoiced in being able to drink, but he knows Raphael’s fondest memories are related to food: to the spices that he grew so carefully at Taki’s, that Maia had caught him smelling longingly more than once. To the crunchy texture of the chicharrones de harina he and his sister used to steal from each other’s plates; to pan dulce in the morning, and pozole in the cold nights. He knew it was overwhelming, and that he had spent the last two weeks - Magnus had missed their weekly breakfast the previous week due to an emergency in Alicante - cooking and eating everything that he could, like he was afraid it’d be torn from him again.

So, Magnus knows it means a lot, and wants to take it seriously.

He puts a hand on Raphael’s shoulder as soon as he puts the pan dulce in the oven. Raphael turns to him, his eyes full of so many things Magnus can’t think to describe them.

He knows it’s not bad, though. Tentative, and vulnerable, but lively.

“I tried it for the first time with Simon,” he says, “we cooked together. It was - nice.”

Magnus nods. “I imagine it was overwhelming.”

“It was,” Raphael answers almost immediately, fidgeting a little with his hands, not looking at him, “but good. Even… Fun.”

“I’m glad,” Magnus answers, honestly, waiting for whatever it is to come out.

It does. “Simon and I are dating now.”

“Ah,” Magnus says, smiling wide, “well, I’m not shocked.”

Raphael huffs. “I’m starting to get tired of this reaction.”

“I can pretend to be surprised, if you want,” Magnus offers, eyes way too innocent.

“No, you’re a bad actor.”

Magnus stares at him in open shock. Raphael snorts. “Well, then,” Magnus says, “I’ve always known. It was a matter of time, really. From the first time you laid eyes on each other-”

“Oh, stop it,” Raphael says, swatting a little in his direction like he’s trying to smother him. “There’s no way Simon and I could’ve been a thing with all the-” he makes a disgusted gesture, “shitstorm that was going on.”

Magnus smiles, but relents. “I know,” he admits. Times weren’t kind when the two of them met each other. “But I’m glad things are better, now.”

Raphael’s lips twitch. “Yeah,” then his eyes meet Magnus’ again. There’s joy there, and something that looks almost like pride. “He’s grown up a lot, you know.”

Magnus laughs. “He better have, if he wants to date an 80 year-old.”

“I thought I was young?”

“Oh, you’re a baby,” Magnus says, his voice just hinting slightly at a talking-to-dogs tone.

Raphael scowls, and Magnus can’t help his stupid giggles. Because he’s stubborn and also nowhere near as mean as he’d like to pretend to be, Raphael crosses his arms and waits until Magnus is done to continue.

All it takes is for Magnus to straighten up and do a little sign with his hand, and he’s back where they left off. “He annoyed me, because he was so - self-centered. He didn’t understand what was at stake, and he didn’t care to. He almost got me killed.”

Magnus hums, suddenly somber, urging him to go on.

“He’s apologized for that, and he’s - there’s this thing, about him,” Raphael confesses, “he’s observant, and he cares, and he worries way too much, but he also forces me to be honest with myself, and he’s there for me as I do it, and it’s- freeing. And he understands, and he likes all that stuff from when I was a kid, and he’s so-” he stops, pressing his fingers together.

Magnus takes Raphael’s hands in his, trying to give him some of the comforting pressure he needs. He seems to relax a little, and smiles at him, grateful. “I know,” Magnus says.

“I’m- really glad, to have him.”

Magnus smiles. “Me too,” he answers, and it’s one of the most truthful things he’s ever uttered. Their entire group has done wonders for Raphael. He’s nothing if not grateful for how they’ve welcomed his kid.

“Tell me how it happened,” Magnus says, when it becomes clear Raphael is struggling to find other things to say. He lets one of his hands go in favor of leaning a bit against the counter again, but otherwise keeps stroking his hand with his thumb, and Raphael lets him.

He still grimaces, though. "Can't we do that after we eat?"

"We both know the pan dulce is going to be in the oven for another half hour, so no." Magnus chuckles, "don't look at me like that, you played yourself here."

"Fine," Raphael grumbles, even as his eyes turn soft. “We had agreed that we would try the potion together, so I went to his apartment. I didn’t want to tell the clan before I had a chance to test it, and disappoint them. And I didn’t want to try it alone, and be disappointed. So I wanted to be with someone who understands,” Raphael exhales, “Besides, I know he misses food, too. We all do.”

Magnus just nods, letting Raphael tell the story at his own pace. They both know he knows that. He also knows that Raphael’s been making the potion all but by the bulk in the Dumort, making sure everyone in the clan gets to have some. In his first “feast,” he cooked for all of them. It also comes with every meal a vampire orders at Taki’s.

“I was so nervous,” Raphael continues, “Meliorn tried rubbing my shoulders before I went, which was nice, but stopped working the second I left.” He tries not to smile at the memory, now that the nervousness is gone and everything worked out. He had worried, in the past, that he’d never be able to love, to be loved, because he wasn’t interested in sex, or kisses, and because he had such a hard time with words. What form of love is left, he had asked himself.

He was reminded of the answer to that whenever Meliorn rubbed his shoulders, hugged him from behind and kissed the junction of his shoulder and neck. Nothing to it but it.

It was everything.

“Why didn’t they come with you?” Magnus asks, interrupting his musings and raising his eyebrows at him.

“It didn’t feel fair. Maia couldn’t be there for Simon, because she had a test, and Becky too,” Magnus makes no comment on Simon’s sister being Becky to Raphael, “And Meliorn- I don’t want to say they don’t understand, because of course they do. They’ve survived massacres, seen cultures die, species end, seen the Seelie realm become isolated as a result of it. But the food thing is so specific, and Simon gets it.”

Magnus nods, a little pained at Raphael’s words, knowing this is a pain he could never quite help Raphael with. “Of course. He’s been through it, too.”

“No. Well, yes,” Raphael shakes his head. “He knows what it’s like to lose food, but he also understands what it means to have it. He’s told me about the day his mother taught Becky how to bake Challah, how nervous she was. And he’s told me about the tradition of gifting food, and Purim, and all the foods that are associated with holidays, and I know that he knows. Food is family. Food is love,” then, almost in a whisper, but still meant for Magnus to hear, “it meant a lot to me to cook for him, too.”

Magnus keeps stroking his hand. “What did you make?” he asks.

“Is it weird that I chose pozole?” there’s an almost self deprecating smile on Raphael’s face, but it edges more on humor than on pain, and Magnus feels proud of him, “Simon made hamantaschen. It’s holiday food. I mean, he can eat when it’s not a holiday, but it’s,” he makes a vague hand gesture, “fancy. Pozole is just soup.”

“No, it’s not,” Magnus says, seriously.

“No, it’s not,” Raphael sighs. It was always his favorite dish. His mom used to make it to him when he was down, and once they came to the United States, he made it for her and Rosa whenever they were tired, or needed cheering up. He even made it for Magnus, a few times, when Magnus first brought him home. The first time he did it, Magnus knew that Raphael really, truly saw him as family. “But it’s still everyday food. Simon used to wait all year for Purim just so he could have hamantaschen. I ate pozole so much when I was a kid I got tired of it sometimes. But when Madzie told me about the potion, it was all that I wanted to eat.”

“There’s nothing wrong with missing the routine,” Magnus says. Raphael had always liked to follow tradition. Keep routine close to his heart. Let it ground him, and keep him close to what he wanted, and where he came from. “Simon missing the holiday food isn’t that different. Tradition is also in the extraordinary,” he points out.

“I know,” Raphael smiles.

A small silence envelops them, light and filled with understanding. Raphael looks glowing and tan under the sunlight, and Magnus relishes in watching him be so open. Call him biased, but to him his boy looks almost as warm as the sunlight. His happiness carries life.

That doesn't stop him from shattering the moment in favor of gossip. "Well then, go on," he rushes him, something akin to mischief in his smile.

Raphael doesn't snort, but it's dangerously close. "You won't let this go until I tell you every detail, will you?"

"My dear, I vow not to."

Raphael still doesn't snort. He doesn't. "Fine," he says, lips twisting up, eyes moving around like he's trying to replace the current scenario with the one he has in his head. "I don't know. I was so tense. It had been such a long time. I kept cooking after I was Turned, of course, but I couldn't taste it, and I was so scared I'd lost my touch. And that I wouldn't find it again," he confesses. "I couldn't breathe."

Magnus makes a wounded noise. Vampires don't have to breathe, of course, but almost all of them do it anyway, out of habit and muscle memory. Helps them keep themselves centered, too. And feel human.

"It's alright," Raphael assured him, squeezing his hand back in reassurance, and Magnus feels silly for being the one to be comforted here. "But at the time I was… tense. I wanted to do it right. And Simon had made most of the hamantaschen the day before, so it was already on the oven, and suddenly it was so hard. And Simon just pulled these weird jalapeño snacks, and told me we should have some."

Magnus laughs at the mental image, and Raphael smiles fondly at the memory.

Did you choose jalapeño because I'm mexican?, Raphael had asked, amused.

I chose it because I love it, amigo, Simon had answered, handing the bag in his direction and looking at him with that wide, unwavering stare of his, as if daring Raphael not to take one.

"It's nothing like chicharrones de harina, mind you," Raphael continued, "but he started eating them at superspeed, and we ended up competing over who could have the most snacks, and it felt like it did with Rosita. I felt home. And it wasn't so hard anymore." For all Simon's criticized for being tone deaf, he's actually very observant, and socially smart. Raphael's always known that, from the beginning when he managed to get Raphael tongue tied with his unnerving honesty and attention. But it was particularly obvious, and nice, now that they were on the same side. "He helped me make the pozole. Joked the whole time. Touched my shoulder when I tasted it, as I cooked, and it felt overwhelming. I don't know."

Magnus hums, and doesn't say that yes, he does. Raphael might struggle with verbalizing what he feels, but he's always been acutely in touch with it, to the point of being unable to hide away. But that's a talk for another time.

As if proving Magnus' mental point, Raphael continues, "I already knew that I cared for him. Like I said, food is love. Eating pozole with him, trying his hamantaschen… It was special to me."

"Did he like the pozole?" Magnus asks, curious.

Raphael practically glows with pride. "He had three servings." He's stupidly pleased with himself, and Magnus doesn't need to ask if he liked it, too. "It felt like it did with my family. It was perfect."

Raphael had told Simon about it, too, as he cooked, and as he served the both of them. How he made it for his family, for his sister, how it was calming, to him.

If café de olla was what gave him energy to start his day, pozole was what brought him peace at the end of it. It was filled with the kind of precious memories that soothed him at his darkest, the kind that he was reluctant to share.

It was a deeply emotional moment, way more than he cared to put into words.

"And the hamantaschen?", Magnus asks.

"I'd never had it. It was good. Very good." It was new, but felt like a tradition at its start, that instant familiarity and connection. Felt like Simon did.

Simon was the one who cried, and it hit Raphael with the sudden realization that he'd never seen it before. He'd seen Simon stressed, and terrified, and even begging, but he hadn't seen him cry. For all of Simon's vulnerability, he also struggled to share, to choose to share. Raphael understood that better than he wanted to.

I've spent the last 7 Purims alone, he'd said. Becky was always too caught up with the rest of the family and couldn't visit him. It was a tradition that was all about people, about sharing, and he'd been locked away from it. That, too, was something Raphael understood.

He had hugged Simon, and kissed his forehead, and cried a little too, in grief, wonder, and shock, at being able to revisit and rebuild their traditions together. He has no idea how long they stayed like that, hugging and feeling, until eventually they started talking about lighter topics, and sharing laughs.

By the time Raphael let him go and sat down next to him again, their hands had already found each other's, connected by the pinkies, the casual closeness Raphael had been hoping for for so long. It wasn't a promise, but it felt like one.

But Raphael's not going to tell any of that to Magnus. He knows a secret when he sees one, even if Simon, always trusting, didn't ask him to keep it.

Instead, he says, "I was there for a long time. I wasn't planning to tell him that day, not when I knew it was going to be so emotional for both of us. But once it was over, it felt so light."

"And?", Magnus prods, feeling just like Alec always described Izzy as when they were started their relationship.

"And I asked him out," Raphael answers, short, but amused, and definitely affectionate.

Don't feel pressured to say anything. If you want to, I'll leave, Raphael had said, but now that we can eat again, would you let me take you out on a date?

Yeah, Simon had answered, a little in awe, like he was expecting this to come, but not from Raphael. Don't feel pressured to say anything, either, but can I kiss your cheek?

Yeah, Raphael answered, and in that moment, everything felt simple.

"And did you take him yet?" Magnus asks, very composed, but also feeling like his magic is going to burst and break something at any minute.

"We went on a few."

He can't help but gasp. "You've been keeping your cards from me!"

"We didn't have a chance to talk before!"

"There's always a chance if you try hard enough."

"Quit being dramatic."

"And what would I do with my life, then?"

"Don't use your shallow persona on me, you know that I know you better than that," Raphael points a finger at him.

"Such a heavy accusation," Magnus counters.

"You know it's true, dad," Raphael rolls his eyes.

Magnus' heart flutters. "What did you just call me?"

"The pan dulce is ready."

"Oh, don't be like this!"

They bicker for the rest of the morning, and the pan dulce tastes just like it used to.

*

Raphael bursts into the room confidently, absolutely beaming, and says, “I am more bi than you.”

Magnus splutters indignantly before he even processes what he just said. “No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am,” he says, with a little tilt of his head and eyebrow raise that’s absolutely infuriating, “I’m dating a boy, a girl, and a nonbinary person. I have the complete set. You’re only dating a boy.”

“I’m monogamous,” Magnus counters, and Raphael just shrugs in response.

“Not my problem,” Raphael answers easily as he opens Magnus’ fridge and starts taking out ingredients, like he can just burst into Magnus’ home, declare himself the winner in a competition Magnus wasn't even aware of, and then take his things. Magnus idly wonders if Raphael is going to kick him out once their breakfast is over. Maybe he’ll take Magnus’ shoes too. As a treat.

Magnus crosses his arms and glares at him, and says, “besides, there are several non-binary genders. You’ve only been with one. I’ve been with plenty over my life.”

Raphael stops halfway through his rummaging. “You had hundreds of years of a head start. It doesn’t count.”

“Of course it counts!,” Magnus answers, and Raphael has the nerve to laugh at him. “You can’t just disregard my whole life and history.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “Fine. But I will win eventually. I have all eternity, and you will spend it on the same relationship.”

Magnus sighs, uncrossing his arms, and Raphael raises an eyebrow. “I won’t spend eternity on this relationship.” Then, in an even smaller voice, “Alexander’s a mortal.”

Raphael has to actively make himself keep moving to hide his surprise. That is decidedly not the status things were in, last time Raphael had been called to help Madzie and Catarina finish their potion. Alec was beaming over his notes and books like Raphael had never seen before, and looked like he could barely hold his excitement back long enough to talk to Magnus before downing it.

He briefly wonders why Alec hasn’t told Magnus about it yet, before deciding that, whatever reason Lightwood has, it’s disgusting and ridiculous and he doesn’t want to know about it. He also makes a quick mental note to tell him to stop being a coward if things haven’t changed by next week.

“Sorry,” Raphael says, reaching out for the tortillas and salsa he had pre-made the previous evening. He could just buy some, of course, if he had no respect for anything.

Magnus’ shakes his head, knowing that his smile is still a little tight. “It’s alright,” he says. He’s being ridiculous. Alexander is barely thirty, Magnus shouldn’t feel like he’s already mourning him every time the subject is brought up. Then, eyeing the tortillas, salsa, and eggs Raphael has put on the counter, “huevos rancheros?”. Not Raphael's usual choice.

“Chilaquiles,” Raphael answers, and Magnus raises an eyebrow. Even less of his usual choice.

He only made it at Taki's when there was a special event - the kind that would have all tables drawn together and last for the whole evening. This is the kind of food that you share, Magnus, he had told him once. That you eat from the same plate.

He knew for a fact there would be only the two of them this morning - wednesday breakfast was sacred in that sense. Besides, there was no more than enough for two people (well. by Raphael's admittedly loose standarts, at least). So Raphael was in a mood. A sharing mood. A party mood.

"A girl," Magnus says, only barely resisting the urge to slap his forehead. "You're dating someone new."

Raphael smiles at him. "Took you long enough."

"I was slightly sidetracked by your sudden accusation-"

"I wasn't accusing you of anything, just singing my victory."

"-That I had somehow lost my touch," Magnus finishes. "Can't blame a man for not focusing on the juicy gossip when he's being attacked."

Raphael rolls his eyes, but he also smiles, and it looks like it fits his face more and more the longer time passes. Magnus' chest sings. "I wanted to see how defensive you'd get," he shrugs.

Magnus' face twists in a grimace. "I don't like this new trickster side of you that Meliorn's been planting," he says, even if he knows it's not really new or planted at all. Awakened, maybe. But doesn't mean he has to like it. "So. Is it Maia?" he asks.

Raphael sighs, but it looks lively, not tired. "Just once I wanted to make an announcement that would actually be a surprise," he says, cutting the tortillas into triangles. Magnus would help, except Raphael refuses to let him and is also not deserving it right now.

"I wonder how you'll pull that off," Magnus all but sing-songs, deliberately playing with his ear, "considering you're an open book."

Even Alec had noticed the way they seemed to find comfort in each other, last time he had gone to meet with the downworld cabinet in New York, and Alexander isn't exactly known for his people-reading skills. They had spent the entire night gossiping about it in bed, Magnus asking for every detail and Alec looking all too happy to indulge him, even if he had no reason to be invested himself.

"Besides," he says, a little more softly now, the teasing tilt in his voice gone, "you were never the type to fall in love. You soar. It isn't fast and sudden, it's built, so I get to watch it unfold."

Raphael's eyes widen a little, and he pauses through his cutting for a second. But Magnus knows he's pleased. "You have a point," he admits quietly, "Maia and I didn't even ask each other out. We just… Realized we were dating," he admits.

Magnus raises his eyebrows and leans on the counter, silently signaling for him to continue. He does, “It’s weird. A few years ago, I barely knew her. Now I can’t picture my life without her.” Between co-running Taki’s, the Downworld Cabinet meetings, and the werewolves-vampires alliance meetings, Maia was definitely the person that Raphael saw the most in his life, even among the rest of the little cluster. And that’s saying something. “We’ve built so much together, it’s like half of my life is tied to hers.”

Magnus nods. He knows that’s new for Raphael. He’s always given so much, but he’s rarely ever shared, and Taki’s might be the first thing Raphael’s ever built for himself, for his love of cooking, of bringing people together. And Maia was an integral part of that happiness - it meant the same to her, after all.

“And she’s so passionate, Magnus,” Raphael says, pausing through his cutting. “It’s amazing to watch. She handles so much at once, and she does it with so much love, and fierceness.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Magnus points out, and Raphael smiles at him as he pours the sauce on the pan. He shakes his head, as if in disbelief, awe. It’s not self deprecating, and Magnus likes it.

“She’s something else,” he says, smile still on his face.

“She is,” Magnus agrees, easily. “So, tell me how this happened.”

Raphael hums as he starts to fry the tortillas. “I don’t know,” he says, honestly, “we were closing up. She asked me how things were going with the Clan, and I told her that I’d be leaving Farha in charge next week.”

“Why?” Magnus asks, furrowing his brows just like Maia did upon being asked. Raphael had always liked to share his leadership with the rest of the Clan members, taking decisions together instead of on his own; it’s a matter of both principle and practicality, considering he has a lot on his plate. But he keeps the matters of the Clan very close to himself; he prides himself a lot in his position, and he wants to be there to help guide the clan through whatever problems they face. It’s not like him to hand over the position and leave someone else in charge, even if temporarily.

“She made that same face,” Raphael points out, amused. It’s not exactly true; Magnus tended to look a lot more serious than Maia, and she did that little nose wrinkle along with the brow furrow. But the sentiment was the same. “Because she has her exams next week, and I’m not going to be able to balance Taki’s, the clan, and helping her,” he says.

“Won’t Bat be there?”

“Yes.” He makes quick work of getting the tortillas out of the frying pan, and putting them to dry, “I’m leaving most of Taki’s up to him, too. But when her exams come up, Maia can forget to eat, or sleep, or get too stressed. I want to be there for her,” he shrugs, like the gesture is obvious, “besides, I’ve heard her talk about her subjects enough to help her a little with studying. And Meliorn knows a lot about sea animals, so they’ve been helping me a little, too.”

Magnus smiles, warm everywhere, like it’s him that Raphael is doing all of this for. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he says.

Raphael shrugs, so Magnus puts his hand on his shoulder, delicately. “It is. That’s a great gesture, my boy.”

“It’s her passion. I want to help,” he answers, looking at Magnus with something almost like confusion in his eyes.

“I know,” he answers easily, letting go of his shoulder, and Raphael gets back in motion like the touch had but put him on pause, “That’s why it’s a great gesture.” He stops for a moment, watching Raphael carefully break the first egg, throw the shells away, sprinkle some oregano on it. He knows Raphael likes to focus on this part. “What did she say?” he asks quietly, as the egg sizzles.

“She asked me what we are,” Raphael answers, not taking his eyes off the frying pan. His gaze is steady, focused, but there’s something dancing in his features, like moving candlelight. Beautiful, controlled, amused.

He can remember her, sitting at the bar stool at Taki’s, head tilted like the question was born more out of curiosity than expectation. Like it was just a formality.

He had looked at her, halfway through drying one of their last cups, and knew exactly what she meant. Whatever you want us to be, he had answered. He had never given the question any thought; not because it didn’t matter, but because it was obvious. He knew that he loved her, and that he cared for her, but somehow, he didn’t really realize what that meant until she had asked him like that: like having to ask was weird, when the answer was right there, in the way that they looked at each other.

Magnus was right. He didn’t fall for her. Not like a person who jumps off a cliff. If he ever fell, it was like a plume; so gracefully and naturally there was only the faintest hint of surprise when he, oh-so-gently, hit the ground.

I think I could do with being your girlfriend, Maia had replied, something like laughter in her eyes, casual and joyful and absolutely everything.

He didn’t have to explain to her that that wouldn’t entail anything new for them. She already knew it. And he knew she wouldn’t mind, like Meliorn didn’t, like Simon didn’t.

He was so damn lucky.

“And?” Magnus had asked, impatient, joyful, like he was about to burst.

“And we agreed that it’s romantic,” he shrugs. “Like I said, it was more realizing than actually asking each other out.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“For what?” Raphael asks, something like amusement decorating his features even as he takes a piece of tortilla and puts it in his mouth. Magnus hadn’t even realized that he was done.

“For allowing yourself.”

Raphael smiles at him, bright and beautiful.

“Come on, give me some chilaquiles.”

Raphael wordlessly hands Magnus the plate, smile still shining all over him, eyes soft and happy and bright.

Magnus is getting more and more used to it.

[normal-thoughts-official]

The Same Old Tale

Summary: One would think an asexual person wouldn't be very easily swayed by a siren.

They would be wrong.

Read it on Ao3

Relationships: Raphael Santiago & Rosa Santiago, Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago, Meliorn/Raphael Santiago, Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Luke Garroway & Maia Roberts

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Autistic Raphael Santiago, POV Raphael Santiago, Daylighter Raphael Santiago, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Hurt Raphael Santiago, Hurt Maia Roberts, polyamori - Freeform, Open Relationships, Nonbinary Meliorn (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Meliorn uses they/them pronouns

It looks just like her.

Not like she did the last time he’d seen her - she looks younger, her skin healthier, not pale and wrinkled from old age and too many years with only a few hours out in the sun. Her eyes are bigger, and shine bright with intelligence, her hair is long and black and she has that mischievous, private smile that she would give Raphael sometimes. She looks like the girl who would glare at anyone who looked at him funny when he started playing with his hands when they were kids, who got him books on astronomy when he was obsessed with the stars and everyone else thought it was weird. He can almost see her reaching out to steal his chicharrones when he pretended he wasn’t looking, the old familiarity of that same old routine soothing and thrilling all at once.

She was so bright. He’d never forget how bright she was, how deep she shone, not when her light never even dulled. Even as she was old and greying, she always looked like she was full of future, not past.

She’s perfect.

She’s perfect, and his whole body aches with emptiness, and longing, and the kind of hurt that burns through his lungs. He feels her loss everywhere; in his shaking, trembling hands that have unlearnt how to play and bring him comfort without her to glare at the people who’d hurt him for it; in the weakness in his legs, wobbling and hurting like they want to lunge towards her and can’t wait another moment; in his aching ribs, sharp and tight like they’re about to snap him from the inside out; in his eyes, which burn hot and prickling like they’re about to be crushed, trying to hold back tears.

“Raphael,” she says, and her voice is musical and sweet. Even when she was serious, it always sounded like it was singing with laughter.

“Rosita,” he chokes out, his tongue heavy and lost in emotion.

She looks just like she did the day he lost her, really lost her. Not when she died all those years ago, but right before he left home before being Turned. She even has the same dress, the orange one, with big, red flowers. It makes a weird combination with the sea under her feet.

“I’ve missed you, Raphael,” Rosa says, and he shakes.

It’s only the fact that he needs her to know that gives him enough strength to manage to say, “I’ve missed you, too. So much.” Then, when she looks at him curiously, as if assessing his words, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head, getting up, and she smiles. “It’s not, I- It’s not to me.”

She nods at him, like she’s listening, really listening, and he’s always loved that about her, too - how she always heard what he said, didn’t look for hidden meanings, didn’t ask him to shut up about the damn stars, and didn’t ever ask for him to speak. “It’ll be, then,” she decides, “just come with me.”

He’s already up, but something in him feels frozen in place, like his body is too overwhelmed to know what to do with itself. “Where?” he asks. Rosa rarely ever asked him to go anywhere. She ran to him, took his hand, and led him there.

“You don’t want to see me?” she counters, taking a step back, and he takes three forward just on instinct, almost tripping on the loose, burning sand.

Don’t go, he wants to tell her, desperately, with the kind of ardor he doesn’t think he would find for anything else. Please, don’t go.

“Don’t leave me,” she says, an echo of his own thoughts, as in tune with him as always, and God, she’s like a part of him, and he’s lacked it for so long it’s almost overwhelming to have it again.

He chokes out, “I won’t.”

Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and he wants to run, run, reach out to her and hug her, take her home and hold her tight, protect her from the bullies at school, show her the stars, make her pozole and tell her stories about their neighbors in Guadalajara until she feels okay again. His arms hurt with how empty they are, and he’s frozen in place, and his vision is foggy, foggy with tears, and she says, in a broken, hurt, almost rough voice, “but you already did.”

She looks like she’s fading, retreating into the sunset, so fast, too fast, faster than he could ever reach her, and she’s going to be gone and she doesn’t know, he hasn’t told her, that he never left her, he could never, he wouldn’t. That he took her with him wherever he went, that he wanted to protect her, that he looked out for her. That he knew about her husband and how she couldn’t have kids, of her work at the school, of the little restaurant they had kept until he died and she had to go to the asylum. He bursts out, screaming or crying or running, all at once, he doesn’t know, because she can’t leave, she can’t go without knowing, he needs her to know, and a hand grabs his arm with the kind of force that could hold an unhinged vampire, and screams, “Raphael!”

He hisses automatically, turning to the voice like he’s trying to tear it into pieces, and it’s Maia, beautiful and wide eyed and worried, and he stops for just a second, just enough to blink and think about how his sister is leaving, before trying to get rid of her grasp.

She feels like she’s holding him with her claw, her grip strong no matter how much he fights, unflinching at his hisses and screams and even his tears, because she knows he won’t hurt her, but he wants to get away, he needs to get-

“It’s a siren! Raphael, it’s a siren! It’s not her, Raphael, it’s not her, it’s not-”

She’s standing over water, and she’s too close now, looking at them with the kind of hatred Rosa never had, and Maia is holding him, still terrified and screaming, and he’s still fighting, because for a second, he doesn’t care.

A siren. A siren. It’s not Rosa. And God, it looks just like her, healthy and happy and like all of the future that he never had, all the future she held in her eyes and shine even as her years ran out, all of the life that he didn’t get to be a part of, because he was dead, and dead without her, and she still doesn’t know.

“It’s a siren!” Maia keeps screaming, and she’s strong, but not strong enough to hold him back, and he can’t see her, because of the tears, because he can’t tear his eyes away from Rosa, close and crying and missing him, like she did all those years when he would see her running over the few pictures they had at night, on the altar that she made for him every year without fail after the third year without news from him, the biggest, brightest one in the neighborhood.

“Won’t tell if you won’t,” the siren laughs at him, teasingly, with that kind of delighted mischief that she used to have, and God, he missed her so much. He still can’t break away from Maia, but werewolves are still not as strong as vampires, and he’s gaining ground, and she’s going to let him go eventually, she won’t go down with him. “I’m still just like Rosa. Don’t you want to talk to her? I promise it’ll feel just the same when I touch you,” she smiles, and he really doesn’t care, because he’d take a knockoff right then. He would.

“Simon!” Maia screams, still not letting him go, and there’s a few seconds of struggling and then a loud hiss in the air, and Simon’s grabbing his other arm. Simon wasn’t even at the beach, he had left for groceries, Maia was at the house, and he can’t fight the both of them off at the same time, but he screams and thrashes anyway, and Rosa frowns at Simon.

“They’re vampires,” another voice says, and Rosa turns, confused, and her hair is wavy, and that’s wrong.

“There’s daylight still,” she says, no trace of smile on her face, her eyes dull and annoyed, and Raphael wants to scream, should be screaming, because she’s disappearing all over again.

“Daylighters,” the voice answers, calmly, “still don’t make good prey for sirens. Besides, the Queen would be really unhappy if you took them.”

The siren frowns, and Raphael stills, so quickly the three of them almost fall back from the sudden change.

“You know it’s the truth, a Seelie is telling it to you,” Meliorn says, still calm as ever, even if Raphael can see it burning in their eyes, the unmoving rage that they’ve always had. “Besides, you’re close enough to smell it now. Let them go.”

The siren grimaces, ugly and deformed, and just like that, disappears.

*

“Thank you,” Simon says, his voice strained, “we’re sorry to- bother you.” Meliorn hadn’t come with them to their vacation, having had some business to solve in the seelie realm, and their visit was completely unscripted.

“You did not,” Meliorn answers, going right past him, holding Raphael’s face in their hands. “Are you alright?”

“She’s gone,” he croaks out, and it doesn’t answer Meliorn’s question, except they all know it does. He knows it’s a siren, he does, and he’s surrounded by almost all of the people he loves the most, and he still wishes he had gone with her. He still wishes he had gotten his chance to explain himself, no matter the consequences.

It should be terrifying, but it’s just humiliating. He hates crumbling in front of anyone, but particularly them. Meliorn and Maia are the strongest people he knows. Simon is so resilient, and resourceful, and bright.. And Raphael- Raphael was supposed to take care of them, and he didn’t.

But at his words, Meliorn just nods, their understanding tender and soothing and inescapable like the ocean. They bring their foreheads together, slow, calm, and Raphael feels shielded, with their hands in his face, their forehead against his, their eyes closed so Raphael’s tears aren’t for anyone to see, not even them.

“I wish-” he says, but doesn’t finish it, choking up on the words and emotion and his own fear of letting it go again when he was so close to- to losing everything, he realizes. Everything he’s built for himself, everyone who ever counted on him, gone in a smoky haze of past, lost in exchange for what he can’t recover.

“I know,” Meliorn says, and God, Raphael knows that they do, and it’s almost unbearable.

He feels a pressure against his back, and only realizes that it’s a hug, that it’s Simon, that it helps, when he says, “We’re here for you.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly unable to face them when he’s so overcome by his own emotion, and lets it wash over him, inescapable and slow.

*

“Sirens fall into the Seelie realm,” Meliorn says calmly once Raphael’s steady again on his feet, wiping the tears off Raphael’s face. “I’ll make sure to bring this forward to the Queen.”

Raphael shakes his head slightly. “It’s what sirens do,” he says, weakly, “it’s in her nature. It’s not like she can help it.”

“Perhaps,” Meliorn agrees, still wiping Raphael’s tears, and it’s the soothing movements of their thumb that make him realize he hasn’t quite stopped crying, “but it’s in mine to protect the people I love.”

Raphael nods weakly, and Meliorn leans forward to place a kiss on his forehead. It punches a laugh out of him, sharp and self deprecating. It’s the kind of comforting touch he’s supposed to give, not receive.

“I’ll make sure they know all of you are off-limits,” Meliorn completes. Raphael nods again, bringing them in for a hug, silently crying on their shoulder just like he didn’t want to. Meliorn doesn’t mind, though, they never do, just run their hands through his hair, slow and strong strokes that make him feel just a little safer.

*

Raphael is sitting down, hugging his knees. Not to protect himself, not to hide away, but to hold himself together, to feel in control. The air is easier to breathe, like this. Maia is by his side and so is Simon, who looks decidedly lost, and has Meliorn’s hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says.

“No need to be sorry,” Maia answers, rubbing his shoulders, “I’m just glad that I saw what was happening.”

She was inside the house when Raphael decided to watch the sunset, waiting for Simon to come back so they could make dinner. She must have seen them through the window.

“How did you know?” he asks, face hidden in his knees.

“It looked like Luke,” Maia answers, shrugging, something that feels almost like an apology in her ever sympathetic eyes, “but I was just talking to him on the phone.”

Turns into the person you want to see the most in the moment. Of course.

No matter what happened, how long it had been, that would always be Rosa, for him. Always.

It’s inescapable, a story that keeps retelling itself, branded into the world like the legends that they embody.

There’s a moment of silence, and he doesn’t dare look at them, or even move at all. It’s Simon who speaks, tentative, soothing, like someone who approaches a small animal. “Who did you see?”

“Rosa,” he says, like he’s breaking.

“Oh.” Simon answers, and he knows, without looking at him, that his eyes are wide. “I’m s-”

“Please don’t,” Raphael interrupts, because he can’t hear it. “Not now,” he says, an echo of something said many years back, and this time, Simon listens.

No matter how much he loved Simon - and God, he did love Simon, and right now, painfully so - this would always be a stain. Rosa was always a sensitive topic, and usually, he was able to share that with him, but right now, he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says.

“It’s okay,” Simon answers, unbearably understanding, as he always is, calm and storm all at once. “I’ll just, finish packing up the groceries,” he says, and then leaves in a blur, agitated.

There’s a beat of silence, then Meliorn sighs. “Is it alright if I go with him?”

Raphael nods. “It’d be- less overwhelming,” he admits. Rosa is too raw, the kind of wound that leaves his guts out, too ugly to share, too humiliating to show. It’s all of his insides, twisted, exposed, and he can’t breathe, not when there’s people looking at it.

“I understand,” Meliorn nods, and leaves a kiss on the top of Raphael’s head. Tentatively, he reaches out to touch their hand, their fingers intertwining slowly, even as Raphael refuses to move his head from where it rests against his knees. He feels so, so weak, but right then, he doesn’t care.

Meliorn goes, and he misses them even as it helps him breathe a little easier.

And Maia stays.

“You can go, if you want,” he says.

“I’m fine here,” she answers quietly. Her hand reaches out to touch his back, very slowly, just the tip of her fingers at first, then the spread of her palm. Raphael finds that it’s a little easier to breathe with the pressure grounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the words rolling off his tongue easily like they live there.

“What for?” she counters, and he knows, without looking, that she’s raising her eyebrows at him.

“All of this,” is all he answers. Then, as he stills, “oh God, did I hurt you?”

She scoffs. “Gonna need more than some thrashing to hurt me, big boy,” she says, smiling, just on the side of mirthful before turning soft and tender and real. “There you are.”

He didn’t even notice he was looking at her. Then again, he was terrified.

“I know you didn’t lash out on me on purpose,” she says.

“I wasn’t thinking,” he counters, something like stubbornness in the way he refuses to accept her words.

“And even then, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He says nothing.

He was just expecting her to let him go eventually. He might have had to drag her, but eventually, she’d let him go. She wouldn’t let herself be taken down because of him, she’s too smart for that, too much of a survivor. But he doesn’t say that, just buries his head on his shoulders again, because that shame is better if he keeps it to himself, even if it eats at his insides and leaves him to rot.

“It’s all right, Raphael.”

“It’s not,” he answers, “The way I reacted, I- you were not like this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, “It wasn’t talking to me, Raphael,” she says, “I don’t know how I’d have reacted if I had been caught by surprise, like you were.” Another beat, then her voice comes out soft, like she’s telling a secret, the kind of secret you only tell someone with your head down and your eyes away, “For a second, I even thought he might have come to surprise me, before I noticed he was standing over water.”

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says, reaching out to rub her back, an imitation of what she had been doing moments ago. Unlike him, she melts into the touch, letting her head rest on his shoulder slowly. Her eyes still look far away, though, and holding immense sadness.

“It’s okay,” she says, but it’s a lie she puts no effort in. Even the little shake of her head is too subtle, too small, too meaningless. Raphael reaches for it, carefully petting her head, small movements over the curls of her hair. He’s always loved Maia’s hair. It feels perfect, even as he has to handle it carefully so it doesn’t get tangled up. “It’s just- I keep waiting for this big gesture, and I hate myself for it,” she confesses. “I know it’s not coming.”

Raphael thinks carefully of something to say, rolling her words over in his mind as if searching for an opening. She doesn’t seem to expect any particular response, but he wants to give her one. The perfect one, the one that will give her an answer and take away that emptiness that’s all over her movements.

“Maybe Luke just isn’t the grand gestures type,” is what he settles on, “that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

She shakes her head, more vigorously this time, and he knows that this time she means it. It breaks his heart. “No. I mean, yes, but- not enough,” she sighs. “He’s like a father to me, but I’m not like a daughter to him. He cares, but… Not in the way that I want.”

She looks up at him, eyes shiny with tears, and that’s the only kind of gleam he doesn’t like seeing on them. He reaches out and wipes them carefully, like he’s afraid his touch will break her skin. Even if, right now, he feels way more breakable than her.

She might not be breakable, but she’s tarnishable, and he’s the monster that desecrates good things.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, painfully lost of any other words. Family has always been a tricky thing for Maia; her parents renegated her, and Luke never stopped being a shadowhunter at heart. It’s not something he understands; he loved Rosita fiercely, deeply, but she always loved him right back. Sometimes, he feels like that made it worse - maybe if she loved him less, he wouldn’t feel like he betrayed her. If the pain was all his, maybe he could move on from this guilt, this debt he’d always have with her, with the life they’d promised each other in the quiet laughs when they were kids.

“No, I’m sorry,” Maia sighs, “you are the hurt one, we shouldn’t be talking about me.”

“We can both be hurt,” Raphael argues, reaching out for her hand when she leaves the spot on his shoulder, like she wants to stop being comforted, and he couldn’t let her if he tried. “Besides, it helps. To have someone I can take care of.”

She does something that’s between a scoff and a snort, and yet still doesn’t feel condescending, only genuine, “You can’t keep focusing on other people to forget about you,” she says, not unkindly.

“I know,” he shrugs, “It’s not that. Well,” he amends at her unimpressed stare, “not just that. I feel like I failed Rosa. I abandoned her. I feel- so powerless,” he hates the little pauses, hates the way he struggles to come up with words to express his feelings. He’s usually not bad at this, but sometimes they run from him, and it’s like he’s way too tired to truly chase them, “so to have people I love… Be there for them. It helps. It feels like I can be close to her as well”

“Okay,” Maia sighs. “But only if you let me be there for you, too.”

“I’m letting you,” he says, a trace of a smile scratching its way through his face.

“You better,” she says, even as it falls a little flat. She squeezes his hand, though, and that counts more; they might not be fully themselves right now, but they’re finding their way back together.

*

“Do you want to come inside?” She says after some time, the kind that can’t be counted in seconds or years, the kind that fits too much and too little, endless lifetimes and the span of a moment, “It’s getting cold pretty fast.”

He hadn’t noticed, but now that she mentions it, he realizes she’s right. Once the sun sets, the beach starts to freeze up, and it’s always a bitch for a vampire to get warm again. “Yeah,” he replies, stretching his legs and getting up slowly, feeling like his body is just coming back to him. Like it hadn’t been his for the last few minutes. “Maia?” he says, when she gets up as well.

“Yeah?” she answers.

“You were right before,” he says. “I wouldn’t hurt you. And I won’t leave you, either.” He looks down. He had been about to do just that, he knows, but- he was caught by surprise. This, here- it’s family, too, and he’d be a fool to let them go. “I promise.”

She smiles at him, and it finally looks genuine. “You better,” she answers, squeezing his hand, close to him as they head back inside.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Sparkle

Read on AO3

“Why exactly are you making me watch these films?” Raphael asks settling on the couch his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed.

Maia settles in next to him and throwing her legs over his and snuggling up close. Three days ago Maia came to the Hotel Dumort and declared proudly that Raphael was going to watch all of the Twilight Saga.

“It’s imperative as a vampire that you finally understand why people make all those sparkling jokes about you,” she said leaving no room for argument, plastering one of those bright smiles on her face that Raphael can never resist.

So here he is now settling down for a five-movie saga. Saga implies epic, but if Simon isn’t lying to him these movies are far from epic.

“Because I think it’s funny,” she says finally answering his question once she’s settled. She makes grabby hands for the bowl of popcorn that sits on the empty cushion beside him. He grabs the bowl handing it to her and rolling his eyes at her response.

“This better be worth it,” he grumbles as she selects the first movie on the tv.

The movie starts and Raphael is fairly certain that the blue, grey light filter is going to give him a headache, he’s also certain that he’s never seen two straight white people less compatible for one another.

But he keeps watching enjoying Maia’s colorful commentary on the films acting as if she’s never seen them before when he knows for a fact she was in theaters for each one.

“I have never played baseball during a thunderstorm, this is so stupid,” he says voicing his opinion for far from the first time since they started this viewing.

Maia chuckles. “It’s about the musical aesthetic, Raph, this is considered one of the most iconic scenes of all the movies.”

Raphael groans. “Ugh, if this is the most iconic scene I might not survive this binge.”

Blissfully the first movie ends and Maia excitedly claps like she’s watching high art theater, not melodramatic vampire romance.

“Movie two is all about the wolves, it’s incredibly stupid and fairly offensive, but it’s also trash at it’s finest,” she says with glee. She’s right about that, the second movie drops the blue filter which his eyes appreciate, but the story is something else. He wants to crawl into the movie and shake some sense into this girl literally not moving for months on end all because of a moody vampire boy.

He gets increasingly more into the movies as they go, not because he likes them, but because they’re so easy to mock and so easy to get frustrated at. He does not know how any of the people involved ever got to work again, but he’s fascinated by the world’s worst love triangle and how Jacob actually is kind of a bitch.

Maia seems delighted every time he speaks up and adds his own little commentary or joke. She’s obsessed with the fact he sees Jacob for who he truly is, a mean girl in jean shorts.

“This would be so much better if the sparkly vampire with the hair and the werewolf boy were in love with each other instead of fighting over this very dull girl,” he comments gesturing frustratedly at the screen increasingly more often now that they’re at the fourth movie. He can tell from the soft smile on her lips that Maia thinks it’s cute how into this he is now.

“Aw, you romantic,” she says loving that whether he meant it or not he’s choosing the werewolf and vampire romance just like them.

Raphael shakes his head furiously. “This is not about romance, this is about how every conversation they’ve had has been unnecessarily close quarters and that Eddy there seems to smile more around Jacob than the supposed love of his life,” he rants.

Maia chuckles. “I theorize the smiling is actually because Robert Pattinson got happier and happier as he got closer and closer to the end of making these movies.”

Raphael nods, humming in agreement his eyes never leaving the screen despite the insistence he doesn’t care about these movies.

“Why are her parents so cool with her marrying an extremely odd, pale boy she’s known for less than year two days after graduation?” he actually shouts pushing the blanket they’ve been sharing off his lap and sitting at the edge of the couch. He stays there sitting at the edge both engaged in and enraged at these movies.

“Oh thank god someone finally died, kill them all while you’re at it,” he grumbles as the Volturi lop off Carlisle’s head. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s all a premonition which they’ll end up preventing. When just that is revealed she’s glad she stayed quiet, it’s worth it for the furious ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ he lets out that she’s certain the entire hotel heard.

Eventually much to Maia’s dismay, because of how much she’s enjoying Raphael’s rants, and Raphael’s glee to be finally free of this supposed epic movie saga they reach the credits of the final film. He’s questioned everything from the romance to the vaguely incestuous relationships within the Cullen family to the music choices to why exactly Maia as a werewolf would want to enjoy these and seemingly he’s finally run out of steam.

Raphael drops his head into his hands rubbing across his face and sighing like a man with an apocalypse nigh not a man who just watched somewhere in the realm of ten hours of overdramatic love triangles.

“Why?” he says in almost despair lifting back up and looking at her. “Why?”

She laughs at him rubbing a hand across his shoulders comfortingly and a little patronizing.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun?” she says raising her eyebrows.

He grumbles, “Only because you were here with me.”

And oh, that’s not fair he can’t go and say romantic stuff like that when she’s trying to mock him for getting so into this little mini film fest of theirs. He smirks knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“Ugh,” she groans standing up from the couch and stretching. “How am I supposed to make fun of the fact that you love Twilight when you say schmaltzy, romantic stuff like that?”

“I do not love Twilight,” he says firmly standing to join her.

“You love Twilight,” she sing songs skipping away to the kitchen and out of his reach the now empty snack bowl in her hands.

“I do not!” he shouts following after her as she just giggles in delight.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Are you involved with any other fandoms/ships??

in theory, yes didndidndidd

this blog is multifandom and ive had it for over 10 years, so its followed me from a lot of phases. i also consider myself to be part of the fandoms for free! and tfatws which im currently watching (i even posted a stevesambucky fic the other day, which was my first non-sh fic on ao3 since 2016 lmao) but in practice i have one other fandom post per like, 50 sh posts, so jdndidndk. this hyperfixation got me bad

as for ships, i actually like and appreciate a lot of ships in sh other than malec, i just get less asks about them. i even have a sideblog for maiaphael (@maiaphaelsource) and one for the polycule which is a myriad of ships that i explain there (@shadowhunterspolycule). i am also HUGE on aluke (alaric/luke) it deserves so much love

but as u can see most of my non-malec sh ships are rarepairs, and all but malec are non-canon so i dont get to talk about them as much rip

[normal-thoughts-official]

Hey ever since u posted ur Maia x Raphael fic I've been hit with so much feelings for them so imagine my sadness when there's only your fic on ao3 that has them as a couple, also here on tumblr there's only 2 posts of them *insert sadangry emoji here*

you know what, I'm just gonna take this opportunity to

Why Maiaphael is a bomb af pairing that deserves all the love and content

A manifesto by me

Okay, so whenever i think of Maiaphael, i think of Taki's. Not (just) as the place, but as what it means for Maia, could mean for Raphael, and what that reveals about the both of them, and the absolute potential that a relationship between them has.

When Maia created Taki's, she had a very specific goal in mind: to create a place that could bring all kinds of downworlders together, where they could be safe and also build a real community together. This is explicitly said, and Maia's desire and even need to draw people together is mentioned many times, and arguably one of the core traits of her character.

She mentions how her relationship with Simon is important to her because it could bring werewolves and vampires together. She cares about and loves her pack, and wants to keep them together and safe.

Maia's been kicked out of her home, and survived abuse, not to mention she's black; she knows, better than anyone, the importance of having a strong, supportive community, and she works hard towards building one always. Taki's is a project that serves that purpose, while also allowing her to do what she loves (cooking, bartending, meeting new people).

On the last episode, they show Raphael at Taki's, talking to her, and look - we all know Raphael loves cooking, how much it means to him, and he has experience cooking for big crowds because of his volunteering. And the way that it fits is just.

First of all, we know that cooking serves pretty much that exact same purpose for Raphael. Cooking, for him, is about caring for others and bringing people closer together. This is shown by the fact that he made it a point to volunteer to cook for his sisters' elderly home, because he wanted to be able to give this to her; this is shown by the fact that when he fell in love with Izzy, the first thing he did was teach her how to cook his traditional dishes, which was clearly something very intimate and meaningful to him. This is shown by the fact that, once he's kicked out to Detroit, losing his Clan that is canonically like a family to him, he immediately started cooking at a shelter; it's a way for him to share his culture, history and feelings, and to bring people closer together, like at Taki's.

Family and community matter to Raphael as much as they do to Maia, that is very clearly what drives his character. And just the fact that he understands what Taki's is all about, what food is all about, makes Maia trust him to help her run the place. He's not only a great cook, he's someone who cares about the same things as she does, and who would pour their heart and soul into this project just like her, because he wants the same things out of it.

(Besides, doesn't hurt to have a werewolf and a vampire working together. That is half of the point, after all)

But also!!! This is so important to Raphael too, because, for so long, he's used cooking as a way to do something for others, and to repent. Food is a way to bring people together, but he does it in a way that leaves him at the sidelines. He excludes himself from the process, like he doesn't deserve the happiness it brings.

If Raphael started working at Taki's - that'd be different. Because he'd get to see the fruits of his work, to have a community he's a part of attend it, to be a part of this project. To enjoy the fruits of his labor, to see the results, to bring people together. To have a home.

I'm emo over Raphael and food again but anyway the point is that they could build such a great, trusting relationship as they worked together okay. From trying out new recipes to discussing decorations and even doing inventory, they have the same vision, they feel the same love, and they respect each other, fiercely. They're that kind of in sync where they work together without even having to look at each other, already knowing what they are doing. They handle the stress of running a restaurant together, and they enjoy it together, too.

And I'm just saying that it'd be so good for the both of them to have this kind of easy, trusting relationship? God knows Maia needs and deserves someone to trust, someone who wants her to achieve her best and get exactly what she dreams of, and Raphael needs someone as fiercely hardworking as Maia, who's willing to create the world she wants. He admires her, too, for how proactive she is, how she never gives up and does what's right. Maia admires how he can sometimes be the calm to her storm, how steadily he always steps and makes way to reach their goals. They complement each other, okay.

And speaking of complement I just gotta throw it out there that Maiaphael has huge sun/moon energy okay. In two different ways. Maia is fierce and joyful and beautiful and she shines and creates; Raphael is calm, and reliable, and through him her shine gains new, beautiful colors. Raphael is drawn to, and has been kept from, the sun. He loves it and basks in it and thrives under it. While the moon is usually associated with the sorrow of werewolves, but through Raphael, she reclaims it as part of herself.

But I can also see them the other way around - there's a melancholy about Maia, so much she hides and so much trauma she's been through, while there's a fierceness in Raphael, a neverending fight, and a room for that burning happiness that we got a glimpse of in the last episode that's been kept away. In that sense, he can also be the sun that shines through her, gives her his strength, and takes his place at the back, letting her do her own, breathtaking spectacle.

And how cool is that? They're complementary, but they're also complex, ever-changing, they rotate and create their own particular dynamic that allows them to find the best in so many sides of themselves. They can switch from one to the other when they're together, Maia can allow herself her slower, quieter days, and Raphael can find the strength to let himself shine bright, like he deserves. They get to be completely real with each other, to Contain Multitudes, and know that the other is just as vast and well equipped to support them in every role.

They're also both fiercely loyal and protective, and you know they'd do anything for each other, but they'd do it together. They'd do it side by side, not on each other's backs like we've seen so many times in the show with other couples. They'd build solutions with each other, not try to sacrifice themselves for each other. They have that kind of camraderie, and trust.

I mean, Raphael does have his self sacrificing tendencies when he gets in that mood (lmao) but that wouldn't fly with Maia. He'd try to solve a problem behind her back and she'd be furious, shove him, and tell him never to do that again, because she won't lose anyone else, and she won't have anyone trying to take the wheels of her life from her hands again. Anyone. No matter how well-intentioned. He doesn't get to decide this without her. He can't.

And Raphael apologizes, and wonder for a second how it never occured to him that he should just trust Maia to let him help her, when that's what they've been doing from the start.

And they're just so respectful of each other's boundaries in that way. Raphael knows not to try and take the lead from Maia, and he gives her space when she needs without her even needing to ask, and she does the same. She'd never pressure him to give her anything sexual, not even a single peck, and still be so undeniably affectionate. They would support each other without being overbearing, be able to allow each other their silence, their musings, their trauma and pain.

Raphael would also want fiercely for Maia to follow her dream of studying marine biology, I just know it, and support her through it in so many ways. Taking some of her responsibilities at Taki's when it's time for midterms. Helping her study. Going to hers with groceries, making sure she's eating, and drinking water, that her place is well ventilated and that she's okay. I have very soft images in my head of Maia sitting with her back to Raphael's chest, focused on her book, as he just strokes her hair, rubs her shoulders, and lets her study. It's good and nice and he is just there for her, silently helping make sure that she doesn't lack anything, that she can relax.

Also, as both of them are leaders of their people, there is so much they can share and understand about that, and even more beautiful things they can build together in that sense.

It's the kind of love that blossoms as steadily as their relationship, sure and deep and slow, with strong foundations, and infinite care. By the time they notice it's happened, they've already become an integral part not only of each other's life, but of each other's happiness. They come to care for each other, and trust each other, and be a part of each other, before they even realize what's happening. When the penny drops, it's almost funny, the both of them a little breathless by the fact that oh, they've fallen in love. And Maia asks, "what are we?" and Raphael says "something important," and Maia laughs and asks if that means he could be her boyfriend.

"Yeah," Raphael says, smiling, private but real and all for her, "yeah," and he takes her hand and kisses it. She kisses his hand back, and he's charmed, and happy, and their hands stay together over the table as they share nothing but joy and silence. The moment is steady and happy, just like them, and it feels perfect.

[thesorrowoflizards]

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[normal-thoughts-official]

at this point alec stans just want him to be a uwu soft boi who blushes when his husband simply looks at him while also being pampered hand and foot cause he's too scared to act on his own despite being hoti. they saw him "blush" one time (matt trying to not laugh) and just ran with the fact that he can't handle affection as if he didn't make the first move for sex-maiaphael anon

yeah that's exactly it and the worst part is that ur not even exaggerating cuz the amount of fics ive read where POST MARRIAGE alec blushed at the mere mention of magnus and acted like he didnt know what a dick was and could only remember when it was up his ass is truly fucking something

[thesorrowoflizards]

lkjdfg i admit only 2 kudos is a new record

but i suppose a combination of a rarepair (maiaphael) with focus on three underappreciated characters (maia and raphael, as well as magnus) AND it’s a not!fic aka a long blob? triple threat; enough to kill potential readers

not to mention the absurd length of chapter two lol