#but yeah absolutely delighted that you had the association with my fic! genuinely made my night

[overnighttosunflowers]

Heyyy last anon here again.. all of that tracks honestly I really just hadn’t thought about that locket in forever and it being mentioned again took me out… really I fluctuate back and forth between which of them I think will propose pretty much every time I think about it…

My most favorite pet theory on a Laudna-initiated engagement is a potential resurrection/Delilah banishment.. she’s alive and not tied to Delilah anymore and euphoric in that and she gets Imogen alone and blurts it out (I do feel like maybe you wrote something similar to that too actually ?? Maybe.) Because I feel like of all the canon couples, Imodna ending the campaign with a proposal is the one instance that wouldn’t be forced or out of the blue at all.

YEAH no you get it!!!! honestly my two big hopes for BH post-campaign one shots are: 1) egg hunt extraordinaire, obviously, and 2) imodna wedding one shot BUT specifically with the framing of: they're getting married! but laudna wants to do one last thing first! she's decided that after some time in the puppetmaster seat, what she wants isn't to be in control of delilah anymore. she's ready to be rid of her. so they go perma-yeet delilah. and then get married :)

[dreamcatcherfication]

Midnight is When I’m Most Honest

Ah yes, here we have sad Cathy Parr hours. I absolutely love writing Cathy Parr, so I’m glad I finally got around to finishing one of these fics. I also don’t see too much Kitty/Cathy friendship, so I figured I’d rectify that. Have some hurt/comfort, my specialty. Apologies for any grammatical errors. Comments are gladly accepted. PLEASE DO NOT POST OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR.

Please send in requests, I’m bored and I have no imagination right now, I need something to do. I’ll try to get them done as soon as possible.

Writing Masterpost

Trigger Warnings: Allusions to sexual abuse, insomnia, negative thoughts

Cathy Parr was an insomniac, simple as that. She didn’t know if it was her own fault she could never sleep, or if her body had some deficiency, but rarely did she find herself comfortably asleep. So she figured she’d make use of her time. If she couldn’t sleep, why not work and be productive. She swapped her pillow for a cup of coffee, her pajamas for a computer screen, and settled in for the night.

Sure, she’d find herself feeling and acting like a zombie the next day, but what was the point of attempting to sleep and still getting the same result? To be honest, sometimes Cathy didn’t even know what she was doing on her computer screen. More often than not she’d find herself searching for information on her Mary, praying that someone, one person, would have any idea what happened to her. Instead, she only dug up more on Thomas, the man she thought she loved.

Of course she knew Thomas wasn’t perfect, but his flaws were what made him so attractive to Cathy. She loved him for not giving up on her, for supporting all her beliefs. He wasn’t perfect, but it took time for Cathy to realize that he was much farther from perfect than she ever imagined. The things he did to Elizabeth, the things she let him get away with. If she had been a little stronger, she would’ve been able to protect Liz and her own daughter but… she hadn’t been. Instead, she had left them alone with that horrible, horrible man, and - well history told the rest of the story pretty well.

It made Cathy feel absolutely terrible, singing about Thomas every night. The queens had all agreed to write the show from their perspectives before researching what history said about them, and Cathy couldn’t help but regret that decision. Everyday she told the world how much she loved Thomas, how good he was for her. She was painting a devil as a saint and never even realized it.

The worst part was that some of her still denied it. She couldn’t associate the modern version of Thomas with the man she knew. Cathy believed all the articles she read, she believed that Thomas did what they said he did but… part of her ached to forgive him. She still loved him, and that was what hurt the most.

Cathy wondered if this was what Jane felt everyday.

As proud as she was of their show, as much as she cared for the queens and the ladies in waiting, Cathy longed to be back in 16th century England. At least then, she would be ignorant. At least then she would have her daughter. At least then she wouldn’t regret loving anyone.

A knock came from her door causing Cathy’s neck to dart quickly to the side. She slowly got up and approached the door, waiting to see if there would be another knock. Indeed, a second knock against the door, followed by anxious shuffling noises on the other side. Opening the door, Cathy was greeted with Kitty on the other side, wrapped in a pink blanket, swaying side to side nervously. Her head was pointed at the floor as she refused to make eye contact with Cathy as she spoke. “I just - uh - everyone else was asleep. I didn’t want to bother anyone but - but your light was on so - so I just thought. I can go if you’d like,” as she rambled, Kitty started to back up and move away from Cathy’s door.

“Hey, Kitty, you can come in if you’d like,” Cathy offered. With all her internal turmoil, the writer could use the company of someone else. Looking hopeful, Kit waddled her way into the room with her blanket still wrapped tightly around her body. She plopped herself on Cathy’s bed, the aforementioned woman returning to her desk.

The two sat silently, the only sound being the click of Cathy’s keyboard as she typed in a new query into google. Kitty watched the older queen, not saying anything at first. Eventually, she broached the silence with, “What are you looking for?”

Pausing her search, Cathy turned around so she and Kit could talk face to face. When they made eye contact, the younger queen’s eyes dropped to her lap as she fiddled with her hands. Cathy was used to Kit’s nervous behaviors, especially at night when they came from nightmares. Usually it was one of the other queen’s who helped the teenager out, but Cathy didn’t really have that option. “Just doing some research, nothing much,” Cathy responded lightly, hoping to coax Kitty into soft conversation. “Why are you up so late?”

Kitty ignored the question and asked, “What were you researching? You’re very focused. Is that why you’re still awake?”

Cathy sighed. She didn’t want to explain to Kit that it was her insomnia keeping her up, so she tried to go for a more simple approach. “I’m not tired, and I have a lot of work to do, so I decided to stay up late. Just for tonight.”

“But it’s not just tonight,” Kitty frowned. “Whenever I have a nightmare, I always see your light on. And you always look so tired. Cathy, when do you sleep?”

There was a moment of silence as the two queens looked at each other. Cathy was taken aback by Kit calling her out, and Kit just seemed genuinely concerned. “I sleep plenty, don’t worry about that.”

“But I do worry,” Kitty said. “I know I’m not like Aragon who always checks up on you, or Annie who always has your back but… I care too.” There were tears in the corners of Kitty’s eyes, and Cathy wasn’t quite sure if they had been there from the moment she walked in the door.

Softening her gaze, Cathy moved away from her laptop to sit next to Kit on her bed. She opened her arms and let the younger queen rest against her chest. “And I care about you too, Kitty. You can always come to me if you need someone. My door is always open.”

Sniffling, Kit replied, “Thanks Cathy.” The two sat together on the bed for a little while, enjoying the silence of the night. “But…” Kit said once again, “What were you researching?”

Cathy froze up, but then relaxed. “Nothing important really, don’t worry about it, Kitty.”

“If it’s not important, why can’t you tell me?” Kitty asked. Then wincing as she realized how she sounded, the teen reiterated, “I just wanna know so I’m not worrying.”

Kitty’s pouting is what finally broke Cathy into telling the truth. “I was searching for Mary.” At Kit’s frown, she elaborated, “My daughter Mary.” The younger queen nodded and encouraged Cathy to keep talking. “History doesn’t know anything about her. As soon as I died, she disappeared. And I wish there was anything I could find about her. Good or bad, at this point, I don’t care. Anything is better than not knowing.” Tears started to pool in her eyes, but suddenly Cathy couldn’t stop herself from letting everything out. “All I ever find is about Thomas. The man I thought was good and loving. History only talks about all the terrible things he did, to Elizabeth, to Edward. I don’t want to believe any of it, but deep down I do, I know it’s true. And yet I still love him. What kind of person am I to still love a monster?”

“For the longest time I thought I was in love with Dereham,” Kitty spoke up.

“But he-”

“Yeah, he did.” Kitty’s eyes were once again in her lap. “He was so kind to me, I thought it was love. It took a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that even if I had feelings for him, that didn’t mean it was my fault. Most of what I remember of Francis wasn’t horrible. There,” she shivered, “there were horrible moments, yes, but I still thought it was love.” She brought her eyes up to look at Cathy. “Loving Thomas isn’t your fault. Maybe it’ll take some time to see the Thomas you remember with the Thomas he was, but one day you’ll realize that you don’t need him in your life. To - uh - to paraphrase a line, ‘You don’t need his love.’”

Cathy let the words sink in before she pulled Kitty closer to her in a tight embrace. “Thank you, Kit,” she whispered. “That means a lot.”

Giggling, the younger queen shrugged against Cathy. “If I’ve learned anything about the 21st century, it’s that you gotta live in the present. So let’s watch a movie or something Cathy!”

Lifting up the teen as she stood up, Kitty squealed in delight as Cathy carried her to the door. Cathy was probably the weakest of the queens, but she did her best to entertain the youngest by carrying her down to the living room. So what if her muscles ached, it was worth it to see Kitty laughing with joy. “What do you want to watch?” Cathy asked as she scrolled through all the movies they had.

“Frozen,” Kitty said determinedly while staring at Cathy.

Chuckling, she asked, “Why that one?”

“Because Anna and Elsa don’t need any man, they just need each other.” Cathy felt herself melt a little when Kit spoke so passionately. The two queens shared a grin and sat together on the couch and let the movie play. They sang along to the songs they knew, shushing each other when they got too loud. Although they had already seen Frozen multiple times, this time the movie seemed far better than either of them remembered.

When morning rolled around and Jane came downstairs to make breakfast, she was surprised to see the last two queens snuggled together on the couch. They were both sound asleep under Kit’s pink blanket, arms around each other with smiles on their faces. Without saying a word, Jane grabbed a second blanket and laid it on top of them before resuming her morning duties.

Needless to say, Cathy Parr’s insomnia didn’t seem like such a burden anymore.

[ferusaurelius]

Nihlus Fic Headcanons

My latest fic, The husbandry of victory is blood (on AO3), is basically a Nihlus Kryik and Mass Effect mercenary/batarian culture headcanon backstory where @expertmakodriver reacted by asking me to ... please translate w/e I was on about.

So here it is! The English translation of my Nihlus Kryik worldbuilding art project.

In reality, this type of character sketch is something I would normally keep private. But since we need more Nihlus content, both it and the headcanon basis are all public and free to use and/or transform as you see fit without attribution.

Please, I’m begging anyone who might want to use any of these ideas in whole or in part: write it and save me from having to do it myself. You do not need to credit me, but I would appreciate a link to your work so I can promote it! :)

Tfw you actually need to annotate your own fic...

Long post - everything is under the cut!

Organized by the order each element is referenced in the fic, with the divided sections labeled as [NUMBER] on the left.

Edited 5/28/2021 because I forgot some things.

[Title] “The husbandry of victory is blood” - Taken from “Sparta Says No” by A.E. Stallings. I actually thought about using this as an alternative title for another fic, but I figured this background sketch for Nihlus more aligned with the themes. I strongly suggest you go and read the poem without taking my word for the following interpretation: the contrast between growth and destruction, and civilization built through conquest or through agriculture. I enjoy the high-level commentary on society. The metaphorical encounter between farming and war is something I wanted to bring to my work, and I wanted the title to color the tone of the epigraph from Virgil’s Georgics. On a more personal level -- my grandfather joined the military in part to seek out opportunities he wouldn’t have had if he’d stayed on a farm, and I decided to draw on that experience for Nihlus.

[Epigraph] - Virgil, Georgics Book I (tr. H. R. Fairclough) - I picked a public domain translation of the poem and went hunting around for a line that had juxtaposed farming and war imagery. It’s a fairly common classical motif! Wars often stopped and started based on the seasonal harvest and the necessity of feeding the community and supplying the troops. You can’t fight a war and gather in wheat at the same time. Digging up the weapons pf the dead in farm fields is a powerful image. My take on Nihlus draws on the tension between fighting and negotiation that I also connect to the symbolic opposition between agriculture and warfare. The Georgics are also just really neat.

[1] Half-face markings - I could write a whole headcanon post on turian colony markings and how mercenary modifications fit in with them (and I will at some point). You’ll see in this fic that I regularly use terms for how much ‘real estate’ the colony markings cover. My HC is that there are variations of colony markings that can be worn as minimalist (smallest critical details), half-face (upper or lower, may include simple full-face designs without a lot of paint), full-face (both, usually more elaborate), and full-crest (what it sounds like on the tin). These are all just different styles and up to personal preference, though there are a few cultural connotations or stereotypes about people who choose which version. Plus I felt really bad for people who might have super-complicated full versions of markings and wanted to give them something more aesthetically lightweight that would have the same meaning. 

[1] Batarian trader patois - An evolving lingua franca with many dialects. Nihlus is uncannily fluent at the one spoken in the Terminus, which is mutually intelligible with the dialect spoken in the Attican Traverse. This is a language without a formal codex that sounds a little strange even to batarians born into the Hegemony. Since batarians have been around and in contact with the Citadel and council races for ~1000 years longer than turians (true if the timeline on the wiki is correct, but I haven’t done the backdating myself), I HC that batarians have a more refined and developed spacer and trading culture. Traders and smugglers are infamous for liking to be beyond Hegemony control and when their government withdrew from Council space, they just kept up with business as usual. Many of them have a shared religion based on debate and argument over the meaning of the Pillars of Strength and the way to live an honorable life.

[1] Terminus languages - They exist, both with and without formal linguistic codexes available to ordinary citizens of Council space.

[1] Hierarchy basic - The common turian colonial language spoken in Hierarchy space. Nihlus was born outside turian space, so he had to learn it from his parents and from educational videos. While he has only a vague accent, certain words and phrases he uses come off as very strange to turians who were raised in Hierarchy space.

[1] Draughts - A popular ancient board game dating back to before the Romans. Pieces move by sliding on the board or jumping over each other to capture. I originally wanted to use river stones as a metaphor, but Nihlus at that age had never seen naturally flowing water. I figure everyone has a version of a capturing/marker/stones sort of game.

[1] Amma and appa - Batarian words for grandmother and grandfather. Nihlus is a bit of a ‘surprise’ baby for his parents. This nice older smuggler couple are longtime associates of the mercenary group and, while they have never done fighting themselves and have no children of their own, they are friends of his mother and father and are absolutely delighted to “adopt” him. He is their smol spikey grandson, they teach him to speak and act like a proper young batarian, and anyone who argues with them about how exactly he is related will end up on the wrong side of an airlock.

[1] Vatar - A canon planet in the Mass Effect universe with a cold and inhospitable environment, located a short relay hop away from Omega (“downtown”) in the Terminus Systems. Mercenary groups have outposts dug into the surface. I rolled with it. 

[1] Falx - The turian name of the mercenary group Nihlus is born into. A falx is both a Roman entrenching tool and also the most overhyped Dacian curved blade weapon you’ll see in ancient art and literature. In essence? The word has been used to refer to both weapons and farming tools for a very long time. The group is a batarian-lead mercenary company with a very long history of turian cooperation, which enjoys stable political ties to other such batarian splinter groups. Traders and smugglers often form the links between them. The batarian word for members of this same group translates as “harvesters” or “reapers.” HAHA. And you thought this was a no-Reapers AU…

[1] Truce customs - A batarian mercenary outpost thing. If you’re friendly and in mechanical distress, or if you have something to trade, it’s not unusual to head to a known group of mercenaries and ask for truce on tightbeam broadcast to get someone to meet you or actively flag your ship with their ident codes (aka: make you temporarily register in local space as belonging to their ‘fleet’). This is usually for medical essentials, emergency mechanical trouble, and also serves as an informal way for Terminus merchants and traders to make a living without having to worry about being boarded every time they deliver the groceries. It’s considered a grave breach of etiquette to violate truce terms and those who do are hunted down as examples to the rest. Truce terms make “ordinary life” possible for outposts that are otherwise on the edge of traveled space.

[1] Trade-cloth - A canon quarian cultural object. Mentioned in the the fandom wiki and probably part of a quarian codex somewhere. Intricately patterned cloth is common on the Migrant Fleet, but the personal cloths are seldom given to outsiders. Nihlus’s gift is one used in trade, but displays a pattern with more ‘friendly’ cultural connotations than something that would be sold and mass-produced in a shop. It was made special for him by his childhood quarian friends. It’s something that it would be appropriate for him to wear like a scarf on formal occasions when he’s dealing with quarians, or when he’s invited to quarian parties or festivals.

[1] Colony crescents / Falx sickles - Yeah there’s some repetition here, but it’s mostly to contrast the two. I HC that Nihlus’s base colony markings are already curved. “Sickles” are embellishments which add a cutting or combative edgeline in some places and very overt stylized weaponry to standard colony markings. They are additions or alterations that are unique to mercenary groups and may read as “flamboyant” or “aggressive” because they are noticeably different in appearance to Hierarchy turians. This is more or less on purpose, and is a bit on the taboo side. One does not wear these additions or draw their markings in these styles without genuinely belonging to one of these groups -- the patterns are not easy to reproduce correctly or in the right places, and they are generally a source of stigma in Hierarchy basic training.

[1] Sand-bath - How you clean a turian when water is scarce and everyone has to share it.

[2] Draw and fire from retention - The shooting-sports specific term for “shooting from the hip.” Kinda. This breakdown of a scene from Collateral, one of my all-time favorite Michael Mann films, will give you an idea. All of the referenced gun techniques are also more or less real, and lining up your body posture so that it helps with aiming and putting the rounds where you want them to go is a real thing.  Nihlus has a great deal of practice in shooting as self-defense and was training alongside professionals from a young age. Going to the range is one of his hobbies (but not mine, I’m lame and that’s loud).

[2] Triginta Petra - A canon Mass Effect world that is a dustball home to hardscrabble turian farmers. Kavala Kryik’s family were some of the first colonists and they’ve been scratching a living from the surface since she was nine years old. They are very proud of this fact, since it gave them opportunities they wouldn’t have had on their native Oma Ker (also a canon turian world).

[2] Laskaris - Nihlus’s mother’s original family name. Kavala Laskaris. While I don’t have any particular headcanon about whether or not turians do the whole ‘changing surname’ thing when they marry or pair off or whatever, Kavala really liked both the alliteration and the overall aesthetic. Joked with Inaros Kryik, her husband and Nihlus’s father, that she only married him for his pretty colony markings.

[2] Lupulin - Literally, hop acids and the essential oils that you get from ‘hoppy’ beer. A direct reference to hops (Humulus lupulus) and brewing, because why not? Actually is a mild sedative and produces a bit of a chemical high.

[2] Stiletto - A pistol from Haliat armory (turian weapons manufacturer).

[2] Blooded sickles - Worn only by mercenaries who are full / fighting members of Falx or their direct allies. Batarians have their own culturally-coded marks, some of which have been adopted and/or adapted by their turian members as embellishments to colony markings. I HC that newer “commercial” groups like the Blue Suns and Nyreen’s Talons, without a shared cultural background, are imitating this style of marking rather than the other way around. Merc-born turians with old-style batarian trade connections tend to recognize each other through these symbols, which are used most often outside of Council space (i.e. the Terminus Systems and the Attican Traverse).

[2] Pillars of Strength - Canon batarian religious artifact. I treat them as a text or a particular philosophy that values free will and independent action as the signifiers of ‘strength.’ While I don’t have a fleshed out or specific HC for what the ‘tenets’ are, I do know that slave implants are treated as anathema.

[3] Struthious - A reference to Earth ostriches. Some kind of chicken-like prey animal that turians like to cook and eat. Mostly because the thought of Nihlus running around like a chicken to entertain his sisters made me laugh.

[4] Cutter - Bigger than a personal clipper and better armed, with living space for a crew. They come in various sizes and are smaller than frigates.

[4] Cup of mourning - A turian funerary ritual. On Taetrus, performed with a distinctive form of dark ale. Different colony groups have different cultural traditions.

[4] Thalia, Tomyris, and Traian - Nihlus’s three turian siblings. Thalia and Tomyris are his younger twin sisters. Traian is the youngest and his baby brother. While they’re only hinted at in this fic, I do plan to make some references to them in the Air Needing Light arc at some point. There’s also a chance they’ll get their own short!fic appearances.

[4] Hierarchy military grants - A HC pool of money that the Council races put up to fund large-scale basic training for anyone (turian or another client race) completing compulsory citizen service.

[5] Talons and suns - Generic references to other symbols that are common incorporations for mercenary groups. I HC that these were adopted and color-coded by the Blue Suns and the Talons rather than conceptually created by them! 

[5] Fuck the cause, we’ll die for a drink! - Profane versions of the turian Hierarchy anthem are popular drinking songs among the merc-born. If it’s a patriotic and well-known song, you can pretty much guarantee turian mercenaries have parodied it.  Awkward for colony-born squadmates who find these renditions hilarious and catchy—but also a little horrifying.

[6] Optio Sideris, 85th Atrax Legion, Fifth Cohort Operations Section - A one-off turian Blackwatch OC I may bring back in another fic at some point because I ended up liking her. The Hierarchy military organization borrows from the HCs I use for the Air Needing Light AU: 85th Atrax Legion is a joint special forces organizing legion made up of six cohorts. The 5th Cohort is informally known as Blackwatch, while the “Operations Section” is a generic term used by intelligence operators. Optio is a mid-tier leadership rank.

[6] Batarian body language - Batarian language and manners are highly dependent on physical cues according to the Mass Effect canon. I took this one step further with a HC that Nihlus is essentially a native speaker of turian-adapted gestures that translate successfully into batarian social patterns. This physical vocabulary is most refined and most present in culturally batarian mercenary and trading groups with a strong history of turian association and recruitment. While older turians can learn and approximate the gestures, they are best learned and absorbed in childhood. Nihlus “speaks” a form of gestural batarian that places him as a native of the Terminus Systems.

[6] Interrogating batarian prisoners - No torture involved! Optio Sideris trains Nihlus in a more practical form of intelligence gathering that involves building rapport, establishing trust, and remaining consistent. Even pirates or smugglers who would not normally give information to a Hierarchy patrol flotilla can be convinced to—if not speak—occasionally offer hints about the locations and activity of slavers. Nihlus is notable for actually being conversant in traditional batarian moral interpretations of the Pillars of Strength, as well as being able to walk the fine cultural line between guarded respect and abject deference. 

[6] Merc Red - Nihlus’s batarian nickname among the patrol flotilla’s prisoners. A sign of individual respect, since it contains no profanity and is just blandly descriptive.

[7] Broken weapons - A traditional sign of thanks between two non-allied mercenary groups when one has agreed to truce terms. Mostly symbolic.

[7] Tattoos - The permanent marking method of choice when turians are full-grown and have developed a strong preference for the color and personal style of their colony markings. Nihlus decides on a complex ‘full-crest’ Taetran colony pattern embellished with Falx blood sickles. This is more or less him being loud and proud about both his colony origins and his mercenary background, as well as putting them on an even footing by tattooing the entire pattern: mercenary symbols and all.

[wordsablaze]

(10) Acceptance Is Endgame

Stubbornly In Love Magnus and Alec are two beautiful souls that both happen to be in love, heartbroken, and painfully stubborn. An angsty malec fic prompted by this lovely soul, chapter 6-10 done as part of the Malec Big Bang! Enjoy!

A/N: Help out? *waves* Last mbb chapter! A final thanks to my legendary beta @zeejade88 who's just an absolute delight to know and work with! Check out the incredible art that @dmsilvisart made, I am elated to have her pieces for my fic! I would have taken muuuch longer to finish this without them if i ever did, - especially since wips are rarely finished with me - and I can’t thank them enough <3 So, huh, I guess I’m done and it’s over, et voila?

Magnus is fed up with lying.

He'd been lying to everyone lately, even more than the usual fibs about his age and where he’d gotten his outfits. He'd lied to Catarina when she'd asked him if he'd wanted something to help him sleep, he'd lied to Madzie about why there was no answer from Alec yet, he’d lied to his wine bottle when he’d said he’d only take one small sip and, worse, he'd lied to himself about why his heart was still aching.

But he couldn’t lie any longer, not now that he’d found out about this emergency cabinet meeting.

Part of him doesn't want to go, of course. That part of him doesn't have the courage to face Alec and keep a poker face, that part of him isn't in the mood to discuss rogue demons when the ones inside him are rioting, and that part of him is going to have to suck it up and deal with it.

He sighs to himself as he takes another small sip of the wine he'd poured for himself.

The taste of grapes and rose petals is the only thing that keeps him going through the night. Well, that and an endless spiral of self-destructive thoughts, but the unique taste of this wine is definitely the better one to credit.

He's still holding his empty glass when sunlight spills over the horizon and beautiful colours fill the sky like an artistic alarm clock.

“Time to go,” Magnus says to himself, setting the glass down and making himself look rested and composed within the blink of an eye.

For a split second, he debates on stopping by Raphael’s place so the two of them can enter together and avoid any awkward encounters, but he squashes the thought before it can fester, putting his energy into creating a portal.

Of course, he portals to just outside the Institute, brushing dust that may or may not be there from his suit as he walks to the entrance. It’s not a long walk but it’s long enough for him to think about how Alec must be hating him, wanting him not to show up, and the thought is almost enough to make him turn around. Almost.

Izzy nods at him as he walks into the Institute, a soft, pitying but not judgemental look in her eyes, one that only she could be capable of giving. He nods his head at her in return, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before continuing, wishing that he could absorb some brightness from the glowing lights above them and turn it into confidence for himself.

And then he sees Alec.

He can’t help being impressed at how professional and powerful Alec looks in his immaculate suit, with that polite and firm, but welcoming smile on his face. He takes a moment to remember the time when he’d have been able to give Alec a coy smile and compliment him, both of them knowing it had nothing to do with the suit, but what lies underneath.

“Mr Lightwood,” Magnus greets as warmly as he can manage, offering his hand.

An unreadable expression flickers across Alec’s face before he smiles, the action surprisingly echoed by the shine in his eyes. “Mr Bane. Thank you for coming,” he says, his voice quiet, oddly sincere.

Magnus nods despite his slight confusion, the two of them letting go of each other’s hands with none of their old lingering touches. He’s already stepped back when he says: “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

It’s easier to avoid thinking about Alec after that. He just throws himself into the demon situation and works with the other warlock there - who’d been invited for a first-hand explanation of the problem - to figure out a plan of action. Using the guise of taking notes, it’s not hard to keep his gaze away from Alec altogether and genuinely focus on something that could be the distraction he needs from his love life, or potential lack thereof.

He can’t say he doesn’t miss the subtle flirting or the small glances they used to share but he can say he doesn’t let it consume him. Sure, that’s only because the problem is genuinely serious and he feels that protecting those who place trust in him is far more important than his own problems, but it’s half a success and he’s giving himself credit for it.

Once the meeting is over and everyone slowly trails out, Magnus included, he lets out a sigh of relief. Said sigh of relief is quickly cut short when his phone rings with Catarina’s tune, which can’t be anything good.

“Heads up for Madzie,” Catarina says as soon as he answers.

“What?” He walks along the corridor a little, confused.

Catarina sighs, obviously rolling her eyes at him. “She figured out you’d be at the Institute and she’s on her way to ask about cookies or something.”

Magnus groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning on the wall, knowing that he has no excuse to avoid facing her now.

“Thanks for the warning,” he says, meaning it, and hears Catarina hum in response before she hangs up.

No less than ten seconds later, he hears the unmistakable footsteps of Madzie, followed by an innocently smug: “Uncle Magnus!”

Painting a smile on his face, Magnus whirls round and kneels down. “Madzie! Hello, little one, what are you doing here?”

Madzie’s arms around his neck are warm and loving and Magnus has to hold himself back from crying at the feeling. He lets Madzie take her time pulling away before she takes his hand. “Follow me!”

“Where are we going?” Magnus asks.

“Aunt Isabelle showed me where she keeps the spare ingredients for potions yesterday so we’re going there, come on!” She smiles impatiently so he does as she says, letting her lead him into what seems like a forgotten storage room.

He kneels down in front of her as she leans on a table, folding her arms. She frowns at him questioningly. “Did you give Uncle Alec my cookie?”

Oh. Straight to the point, then.

Magnus nods. “Yeah, of course I did.” He winces to himself as he thinks of what Alec had said about him lying but ignores it. “He said it was the best cookie he’d ever tasted in his life.”

“So he feels better now?”

Somehow, Madzie manages to sound adorably hopeful and slightly patronising at the same time. It sends Magnus’ heart into a dizzy spiral of shame but he forces himself to nod, smiling up at Madzie. “Yeah, of course. Who wouldn’t feel better after your baking?”

Madzie giggles a little before looking at him with a level of serious she should not be able to reach. “So he’s coming to my party, right?”

At Magnus’ silence, she narrows her eyes. “Uncle Magnus?”

Curling his fingers into fists, he sighs. “I’m not sure, sweet pea. He’s said he’ll try to make time but he’s gotten really busy lately so he might not be able to come.”

The light above them flickers dangerously before Madzie stamps her foot, frowning again. “You’re lying! You promised you’d give him my cookie and then he’d feel better enough to come! You didn’t do it! You lied!”

“Madzie…” Magnus swallows the lump in his throat. “He does feel better, really. It’s just that there’s been another demon problem and he might be busy with it.”

“No!” Madzie glares at him. “You lied, you lied, you’re just like him and you lied!” she declares before running past him, out of the room.

He doesn’t move at first. By ‘him’, she, of course, means Valentine. Magnus might be a lot of things, but he’d never imagined being similar to Valentine would end up being one of them. And it stings, it stings to be associated with a man who’d done nothing but hurt and use Madzie, it stings more than he thought it could.

And because it stings to much, the only reason he doesn’t get lost in his own mind is that he hears Madzie talking to someone from outside the storage room. Shaking his head, he pulls himself to his feet and goes to see who she’s talking to, his lungs freezing as he sees Alec kneeled down in front of her, a thousand bad endings to this scene playing out in his head.

Madzie seems to nod solemnly before turning back and running to Magnus, hugging his legs so hard he has to place a hand on the wall to avoid toppling over.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Magnus,” Madzie says, her voice a little muffled, “Uncle Alec explained that you were keeping it a surprise for me, I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Keeping a hand on her head to steady them both, Magnus looks over to Alec, who has a gentle, apologetic smile on his face. He’s more than surprised that Alec hadn’t told Madzie the truth but he doesn’t let that stop him from gently prying Madzie away from his legs and kneeling down so he’s at eye-level with her.

“It’s okay, little one, maybe I just should have lied better, right?” He asks, knowing it’ll make her smile.

She grins, looking between him and Alec before saying: “I’m going to go home now. Will you and Uncle Alec come to play before the party?”

Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, Magnus looks up at Alec for an answer, waiting until he sees Alec, thankfully, nod before smiling at Madzie. “Of course. You’d better practice your tea-making skills so we can impress Uncle Alec, okay?”

Madzie nods at him, still grinning, giving him another quick but no less lovely hug, then doing the same to Alec before running off, obviously having been told exactly what to do by Catarina.

The two of them stand up as soon as she turns the corner and Magnus nods at Alec, once again already starting to walk away as he says: “Thank you.”

“Magnus, wait, please?” Alec’s voice is so desperate, so similar to the voice inside Magnus’ heart, that he stops walking, biting the inside of his lip as he waits.

Alec fiddles with his hands before taking a quick breath. “Magnus, I think- No, I need to apologise.”

“I won’t stop you,” Magnus says, leaning on the wall again, watching as Alec blinks in surprise before nodding, mimicking Magnus’ pose, apparently without realising.

“I’m sorry I said the things I did, we both know none of them are true. I wasn’t thinking clearly and I’m sorry I hurt you-”

Magnus, despite himself, holds up a hand, unable to stop his scepticism. “Are you? Or are you just saying that because Isabelle convinced you to?”

Alec freezes for a moment but he shakes his head fast enough for his face to blur a little. “No, no, no, Magnus, I’m not just saying any of this for her. Look, I’m not the best at relationships but even I know what we had- have, what we have is… incredible. Lucky. A gift. I’m sorry for what I did, I shouldn’t have pushed you away again.”

Sighing, Magnus lets his eyes shut for a second. All he wants to do is accept this and pull Alec close but he can’t, he can’t blindly rush into things and make the same mistakes. “It’s like you never even stopped pushing me away. What we had was incredible but it won’t last long if this sort of thing keeps happening.”

“I know,” Alec replies instantly, clearly having thought about this. The thought warms Magnus’ heart just a little as Alec carries on: “But it won’t happen again, I’m sure of that. And, if it does, I swear to you, I won’t push you away. I don’t want to lose you, Magnus, I don’t think I could bear it. I know I’ve messed up, I’m so sorry for everything, but please, please give me another chance.”

“Alexander…”

Alec shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and exhaling shakily. “Magnus, I can’t un-say the things I said but I want to take them back, I want to fix this and try again, do better. I’m sorry I was so… so cruel, I wasn’t thinking straight and I don’t know why I ever thought I could live without you. You don’t have to forgive me right now but I’m ready to do whatever it takes for us to be together again.”

Magnus opens his mouth to say something but finds he can’t, he doesn’t know what he should tell Alec anymore. He closes his mouth again, simply staring at the sincerity in his favourite hazel eyes and letting himself smile ever so slightly.

A ripple of relief washes over Alec but he makes no move to step forwards, repeatedly nodding. “I really am sorry. Being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t want to throw it away.”

“We were never throwing anything away,” Magnus points out, shaking his head. “Alexander, I can understand how daunting it is to be in a relationship with an immortal who’s had more experience, I really can, and I’m sorry for our circumstances but that’s not an excuse to downplay everything I say just because you assume it’s all a part of my routine.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking at it from your perspective, I was just worried that I didn’t mean- that nothing I did would be enough to impress you and convince you we could stay together,” Alec admits, clearing his throat.

At that, Magnus sighs sadly, shaking his head. “You never have to do anything to impress me, you’re already the most impressive Shadowhunter I know, and I’ve met a lot of them. I know it’s hard for you but you have to promise not to just push me aside at every doubt you have.”

He wants to say more, he wants to tell Alec so much more, but he can’t do it, his throat won’t work, the English language has failed him entirely. Fortunately, Alec nods, seemingly understanding what he’s saying.

“Yeah. Yeah, that seems like a good plan. I’m sorry I acted so immaturely. Can we… Can we restart? Not entirely, of course, but just this argument. Actually, no, forget that, can we use this to move on instead?”

Magnus raises an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face after what seems like an eternity of smile-free sorrow.

Alec’s eyes widen. “No, I meant, move ahead, not like…”

When he sees Magnus is holding back a smile, Alec smiles and lets out a small chuckle, sighing with relief afterwards. He then seems to decide the gap between them is too much because he tentatively steps forwards, licking his lips in what Magnus knows to be nervousness.

Since he agrees with Alec, he meets him halfway, the two of them pausing before just lunging forwards, closing the distance between them and wrapping their arms around each other with a determination full of love and apology. Magnus shivers at Alec’s touch but pulls him closer, his palms flat on Alec’s back, holding him securely, letting his eyes fall shut. He feels Alec’s hands fist in his shirt as Alec’s head drops onto his shoulder and he takes a slow, deep breath, inhaling their embrace as if it’s more important than oxygen.

He’d laugh but Magnus is doing the same, breathing in the scent of stiff chairs, lavender, and a terrible but familiar cologne. He’s hauling in the warmth that radiates from Alec as if his life depends on it and he’s not even slightly embarrassed, proud of being the one to receive such a beautiful hug.

“I missed you,” Alec whispers next to his hear, sending shivers of happiness down his spine.

“Likewise,” Magnus replies, a few tears falling from his eyes before he can stop them.

They stay like that, wrapped around each other in an embrace stronger than any other, until they hear the sound of someone turning into the corridor before apparently making an immediate U-turn, their footsteps disappearing faster than they’d arrived, both Alec and Magnus promptly realising where they are.

They pull back, leaving only the smallest gap between them, and Magnus sees that one of Alec’s tears has escaped so he reaches up and gently wipes it away with his thumb, smiling. “Let’s never cry over each other again.”

Alec laughs and takes one of Magnus’ hands in his, biting his lip for a second before he gathers the courage to ask: “Only for the good reasons, right?”

Magnus nods. “Right. We should probably move though…”

“We should definitely leave this corridor,” Alec agrees, sounding a little tipsy, as if just touching Magnus had been a powerful method of intoxication.

Magnus takes a second to think about what he wants to suggest, coming to the conclusion that he might as well try after all they’ve just said before he squeezes Alec’s hand. “How about we go home?”

There’s a pause before Alec shakes his head and steps forwards, cupping Magnus’ face with his free hand. “I’m already here.”

And that’s enough to make Magnus smile, fully, genuinely smile so hard that his face immediately hurts from the intensity. Alec returns his smile and rubs his thumb under Magnus’ eye, catching an eager tear and brushing it away before leaning down so their foreheads are touching and they’re close enough to feel one another’s breathing.

“I love you,” Alec murmurs, his voice so quiet Magnus barely hears him.

The emotions Magnus had been trying so hard to keep in check come undone and he’s abruptly filled with happiness and relief and joy and contentment and a fierce, fierce love. As he gazes up at Alec, whose eyes are blazing with a similarly ferocious love, he feels as though everything can be right once again, as though their lives can comfortably entangle once more, and as though the two of them can grow from this and their relationship can blossom into something he couldn't even have dreamed of before they’d met.

“I love you too,” Magnus breathes before leaning up, tilting his face to the side just a little.

It’s softly explosive when their lips meet, when they both open their hearts and let the love they’d been so adamantly holding back and pushing down finally go free. They’re both still smiling so it’s hard to maintain the kiss but they stubbornly keep going, wanting more of each other, needing to wordlessly promise one another that they won’t give up, that they’ll give this relationship everything they have and more in order to keep it burning, in order to let their love flourish.

They can both feel the pull from their hearts and they’re more than happy to follow it, more than happy to indulge it, because it’s the best thing they’ve ever known, it’s something they can share, something they can feel together, and it makes sense when they do.

They share a breathless laugh as they finally break apart so they can breathe, staring, no- almost comically gazing at one another with a dizzying sense of relief and comforting happiness. Magnus has honestly never felt so exhilarated and reassured in his entire life, he’s sure that being with Alec is the best thing he’s ever done.  

Of course, nothing is fully fixed yet, they have more to talk about, they have things they need to work out, and there are definitely other obstacles they need to overcome, but all of that is easy when they choose each other, when they accept their flaws and turn them into stepping stones for a stronger future, and when they stop being so stubborn and just let themselves be in love.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

[gurguliare]

so apparently the last flareup of elwing discourse was in july, which i know because emma and i then proceeded to have a fantastically involved conversation about maglor and maedhros’s babysitter qualifications, in the six months before gil-galad came to pick the twins up

now seems as timely as ever.

Emma: i feel about maglor and the kidnap twins the way that i feel about shakespeare plays Emma: .... Emma: that’s one of those sentences you instantly regret

Emma: what i meant was Emma: there are some specific shakespeare plays i read in an abridged version when i was like ten Emma: and instantly and vividly created this FULL INTERNAL FANDOM for Emma: which are not (1) very good summaries of the plays themselves Emma: (2) based on any real production that i could ever see Gogol: wait so tell me more about your damn kidnap twins fanon though Emma: THE THING IS I DON’T KNOW. IT JUST PLAYS ON THE INSIDE OF MY EYELIDS Emma: i don’t know i feel like— i worry about it too Emma: but just, consider that caveat hovering over it, that i worry that my attitudes about this are not great, but Emma: i tend to believe the text when tolkien says that a love grew between them Emma: so i like all the ones quite a bit where elros and elrond are plotting his murder but that’s not what i imagine… i figure them as… well Emma: kids! who maybe Emma: especially elrond Emma: internalize at first that something went wrong, and maybe maglor had to do this? to take them away from their parents? so Gogol: oh my god………. baby .... Emma: i like the idea of elrond’s vast understanding or whatever and deep worrying about the future coming in part from this— unconscious need to placate and then to actually help this very troubled MOTHERFUCKER WHO KIDNAPPED HIM Emma: ok, i’ll just— figure out what’s best. because you don’t know what’s best? and your brother is a creep? so like, we’re going to… work this out? together? you made some mistakes, but wh ohasn’t made some mistakes Emma: ha ha! aren’t we all noldor here! Emma: and it taking him a while to intellectually get to “no… we were kidnapped…” Emma: like the twenty year, very serious version of the "WAIT." comic Gogol: fuck Emma: and at that point the war is happening and they have other concerns Emma: and i also like the idea that elrond never totally got out of it Emma: like, in his subconscious Emma: that if you ask him he’s like “no it’s fucked up they stole me from my home and family” etc but, well, he’s still like “but… you know… the noldor aren’t ALL bad… those greatly harmed can do great harm… :(“ Emma: and that requires a maglor who isn’t like, discussing which of them they’ll kill as the unnecessary hostage Emma: with maedhros, although i like those fics quite a lot Emma: at this point my elros characterization is just “em’s elros” so w/e assume i just said that a bunch Emma: “the most christian elros imaginable" Gogol: i feel like em's elros is my actual fingon headcanon Gogol: no that's a joke Gogol: it's not completely a joke. Gogol: also, has troubling implications Gogol: but yeah. I LIKE YOUR VERSION better than some of the maglor’s malice ones i'm Gogol: contemplating Gogol: i was thinking definitely before you'd even started in on details that like. … yeah, i mean, i prefer to take the text at face value in those instances where it DOES give rare emotional insight, and also idk if you read simaethae's elwing meta today but Emma: nooo Gogol: one sec Gogol: this paragraph: - only Elwing lives, and finds her husband, and they sail West, the first people to manage it in centuries, and they find the Valar and Earendil, the longed for that cometh beyond hope, persuades them to intervene and win the War; and this time the twins live too, and not only do the Feanorians let them live but love grew after between them, as little might be thought - Gogol: which is like, yeah, the reason i genuinely love the … texture of the voyage of earendil chapter, where the sheer barren scraped-cleanness of the landscape makes hope a sort of inevitable weed Gogol: anyway so Emma: RIGHT Emma: there’s nothing ELSE Emma: you HAVE to be with each other Emma: everyone else is DEAD Emma: of tuor and his coming to gondolin is like that too! Gogol: YEAH although tuor has much more of the actively numinous quality i associate with luthien and beren, where it's not only… hope against darkness but also like… i don't know, wonder and delight, for some fucking reason--earendil's voyage and the war of wrath by comparison are both so curiously Gogol: not "secular" but like… delimited by practical necessities Gogol: to get back to maglor and elrond i was just going to say that like, definitely that caretaker role unfortunately on elrond's part Emma: yes yes yes yes Emma: you are right abt tuor and the wonder and delight—that last unexpected stream of water is no joke! Emma: as opposed to the fens at sirion. Gogol: YEAH Gogol: i mean beleriand after gondolin is really like… right, every water source is tainted, but the sea Gogol: but fuck that was what i was going to say actually was one thing i was picturing re maglor elrond and elros was like, maglor and maedhros literally MUCH MORE OUT OF THEIR FUCKING DEPTH Gogol: than they often are in fic... Gogol: like, no joke, struggling to survive against terrible odds for absolutely no motivation Emma: y e sssss it's Emma: i don’t know i fthis makes mechanical sense but i always pictured them like Emma: ... Emma: camping on the really barren parts of, like, bodega bay Gogol: flakdgjalKJGLS:GJ Gogol: YEAH Emma: where it’s just volcanic rock and seagulls Emma: “want to go fishing” “ummm" Emma: “do the children we kidnapped know how to fish” “YOU can ask them that question" Emma: for forty YEARS Emma: in the distance the CONTINENT EXPLODES! Gogol: i'd also be really interested in seeing a… more engaged and frustrated and possessive-of-his brother maedhros honestly like a maedhros who almost wakes up with the last kinslaying Gogol: but in the worst way Emma: ohhhh my god Emma: yeah Emma: not the gentled miserable murderer Emma: but the one who’s determined to keep maglor, and only maglor, alive Gogol: like does he care about the KIDS, no, but is it a way to get at maglor or occasionally to get maglor up, OKAY Emma: and even if elrond and elros did not totally pick up on this, Emma: he wouldn’t be ashamed of just doing it directly Gogol: i can't tell if this is genuinely hotter than fanon standard or if i'm just flipping the dynamic for novelty. w/e i guess Gogol: i do think this version is easier to reconcile with endgame maglor without completely unrolling him Emma: i just still love the rules lawyering of Emma: “listen we can just… WAIT" Emma: “maybe it’ll go AWAY" Emma: “the oath says not” it does sort of fucking imply that though maglor. Emma: you big desperate baby Gogol: y es Gogol: … i don't know. the problem is i like their last convo so much AS like, the first conversation they've had in two hundred years, it's hard to game that for a substantive prior relationship, even though i know they must have done THINGS Emma: ... Emma: is it though Emma: remember that the other convo we have for them is “isn’t that a silmaril” “you know i’ve been meaning to mention to you that i think that would be a good thing" Emma: "[crushing silence]" Gogol: lkJALkjdg Gogol: I MEAN IT'S NOT hard for me to PICTURE but then it's like Gogol: kind of a conversation… ender… in terms of… "what were they talking about and doing in bodega bay" Emma: yeah. Emma: tru. Gogol: i was going to say i kinda still am picturing barely-verbal maedhros in a LOT of contexts, just like, you know, whenever maglor's not looking/conscious, suddenly Gogol: "elros take his legs" Emma: you know what i also like is Emma: maglor and maedhros— well they wouldn’t intend it anyway because like, intending things takes too much effort Gogol: WAY too much effort Emma: but not being aware of how… childlike elrond and elros are Emma: and how much they’re asking of them Emma: because, peredhil. Gogol: oh yeah absolutely lol Emma: so, elrond and elros like, Growing Up Fast in a way that they both assume is their elvish heritage Emma: when actually it is just SUPER fucking human Emma: and elrond never ever figures it out, and elros does at age like 600 Gogol: also like, maedhros and maglor grew up in a household with seven kids..... Gogol: "unnecessary compounding misconceptions" the feanorion party game Gogol: also like. being frustrated with elrond and elros's developmental slowness in some areas and reassured by their accommodating intelligent 'maturity' in others :\ Emma: y e p Emma: i was going to say something about maglor’s almost-scientific curiosity as to their human heritage Emma: shared with the kids Gogol: UH HUH. elrond like, oh good, i………. fooled him into thinking i'm competent another day…. Emma: tomorrow is another opportunity to keep doing that! Emma: joke’s on you you get 2000 more years Gogol: LMAO Gogol: GOD. ELROND. WHY DID HE NOT MAKE NARN ARWEN AH ARAGORN CANON Emma: i know poor child Emma: this is one reason i’m super enamored of celebrian who grew up with the exact opposite pressures Emma: a mother who just assumed that she would never grow out of being 30 and biddable Gogol: i overseriously don't know that i would say OPPOSITE pressures but also: yes and i love them Gogol: by which i just mean like, biddability prized in both cases but. functional vs decorative Gogol: but it's not like maedhros and maglor wanted elrond and elros to be ADULTS Gogol: just, USEFUL children Gogol: whereas galadriel probably wishes celebrian were more impressive but at the end of the day has to admit she likes celebrian's mild patience best of all. they're both being very understanding of each other she feels Emma: oh my fucking god Emma: yeah. Emma: why are there people who don’t want dirtbag galadriel Gogol: nooooo ideaaaaa