#my shadowhunters fic

[loki-nightfire]

Family time

When Maryse decided to have a look on the baby-boy, she found all three of her boys sleeping, the little one finally full and snoozing peacefully, hugged by dads

Meanwhile the cats dialogue:

- look, they got a kitten! soft and sweet and smells of milk - i, for one, smell trouble and double trouble. you'll see, Meow, you'll see.

Illustration following Silent Alec fanfiction series

more art on http://boosty.to/grizzlyhare/

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Shadowhunters

Enthrallment by smilebackwards

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic.

Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

DC

temporal fraternity by envysparkler

Damian clears his throat. “I require your assistance.”

The words come out easier with the benefit of practice and the knowledge that no one will remember them tomorrow. Today. Tomorrow-today.

The Umbrella Academy

cut me open and i still bleed red by aletterinthenameofsanity

Part 1 of the odds were never in our favor

Ben knows his fellow mentors pretty well, for how long he's spent here, behind the screens of the Games, watching as his tributes die.

Allison, from District One, has a way with the sponsors. Just a word placed here or there, stealthily dropped into conversation, and she can get her tributes the shit they need.

In his time as a Mentor, Klaus has developed a habit of drinking to get through the Games, and through the rest of his life, really- anything to avoid the truth of what's happening, the ghosts of the children he and Ben have sent to their deaths.

Very few people remember what Five’s name was before the Games. Caesar Flickerman and the Gamemakers nicknamed him that when he took out the entire Career Pack on his second day in the Arena.

Vanya’s the newest Mentor, the victor of the Seventy-Third Hunger Games.

Diego’s one of Ben’s oldest not-quite friends. A Victor from District Ten, he’d gone into the Games knowing how to kill an animal.

All the other Mentors Ben knows try never to get attached. Luther, on the other hand, doesn't forget a single name.

(A story of seven victors of the Hunger Games and the lives they live as Mentors.)

Danny Phantom

The Promised Land by redrobin1989

Danny Fenton has been running for years, from his abusive parents, from Vlad's experiments, from his freakish powers. He expected to be running his whole life until he found his way to a small town that felt like the home he'd never had.

M!ik

Study Dates Are Not Real Dates by StormySteady

A very important exam is coming up, and Asmodeus is trying his hardest to get Iruma and Clara to study for it. But his soulmates have other ideas.

Star Wars

Starlight, In All Its Forms by Soap_And_Lye

When Luke was eight, he was taken from his home on Tatooine and delivered into the hands of the emperor and his right hand.

When Luke was sixteen, he overheard the emperor's plans to steal a tiny Force sensitive child and saves him first, before being caught and dragged back to his masters' keeping.

When Luke was eighteen, he finds that same child on Gideon's cruiser, and spares both him and his family, including a silver clad Mandalorian.

And when Luke was twenty-four, he is captured by the Rebellion (captured or did he just let it happen? Really up for debate) and secretly sent as a prisoner to Mandalore, where Mand'alor Din Djarin rebuilds his planet and raises his son.

And the rest was history. Or the beginning.

Clone Wars

will you be an anarchist with me? by a_alene

Once the Kenobi floodgates are opened, they cannot be closed. Cody has apparently been keeping an itemized list of disagreements, and he is determined to tell Rex each and every one of them.

Kenobi refuses to listen to Cody’s input. Kenobi throws himself into battle with no regard for previously established battle plans. Kenobi uses the Force so recklessly and obviously that every undercover assignment is blown within the first few minutes. Kenobi is a hypocrite who berates Cody for sidestepping protocol, but flouts it himself at every opportunity.

CT-7567: bet you wish you had skywalker now

CC-2224: I wish for nothing but the cold embrace of space

Right. And he says Kenobi’s dramatic.

(Marshal Commander Cody and High General Obi-Wan Kenobi of the 212th cannot stand each other. Rex doesn't know why this is his problem.)

poetry is what you find (in the dirt in the corner) by fivecenturiesverse

(In which Cody becomes an anonymous poet after the war and his brothers find out.)

Rex launches forwards immediately and so does Bly, because he can admit to himself that he likes gifts. He likes gifts a whole lot more than Cody and Wolffe, anyway, who both act like martyrs who don’t need any material love. “Poetry, vod?” Bly asks, incredulous. “Cody’s right, you are going soft.”

“It’s by a clone,” Fox says, defensively, “it’s quite good, actually. For poetry. It made Sergeant Hound cry at the service.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

looking back on the fic I've written in the last few years and my own sexuality journey has made me realize that there is an argument that poly folk and ace/aro folk process love in a lot of the same ways, like the idea that you can have significant, life-defining relationships with different people and you get something important and sometimes even a similar flavor from each relationship but each one is still fundamentally different and significant in its own way and sometimes you don't want sex but you do want hugs and your partner may be having sex with their other partner but that does not make your relationship any less important because they come back to hug you and having more hearts bound up in your own is never a bad thing, because being loved no matter the form is never a bad thing, you are lovable and you can love so many people and having a heart overflowing with love for other people and things and the universe just means that you're healing and finding the people who fit you in whatever way that comes and there will always be someone cooking in the kitchen filling your heart and stomach no matter what and in this essay i will-

[half-bakedboy]

This artwork was created for the Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2024: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver.

I was lucky enough to work with Cor who created this adorable story to go along with my art.

over the horizon by Cor321

Magnus and Alec were about to embark on the biggest adventure yet, taking a road trip together, camping and most notably parenthood. Or Alternatively Magnus and Alec go on a babymoon before the arrival of their first baby.

[stormkpr]

Dropping in 3 days...."I'll Have What You're Having" Malec, Wesper, 5,000 words, rated Explicit

[alexanderlightweight]

You know what I rarely see? In the show after wooing Alec, Magnus is not shown as overly invested and it always appears as Alec reaching/apologizing/moving the pair along. Which was definitely a writing/directing choice. But what I’d like to prompt if it suits you, is Magnus being the one to apologize or to reassure Alec that he is important and not temporary-I’m team immortal but this convo certainly should happen. I liked the way you had Alec be angry in that prompt fill about his birthday and Magnus had to own up to that. If this isn’t your thing no big deal! Hope the weather is nice where you are and nightshade has enough pets and treats for the day!

i believe in 'no partner is perfect' and while i don't tend to write the angstier couple stuff 'i like my malec happy' i don't mind occasionally dipping my toes into partner angst (with an immortal happy ending)

this particular fic isn't about about immortality but it's about haing two people who have fundamentally different lifestyles having a miscommunication that devolves and while the argument is based on the show scene, it doesn't follow it perfectly. nor is the actual argument written. just the aftermath.

my thoughts are that magnus tries to spoil alec in season two still but it's more intimate and offscreen and he sort of in season 3a but magnus relies heavily n his magic to spoil alec and he kind of is spiraling all of season 3 tbh. they just really were sprinkling angst on malec like it was salt and they realized the show was bland.

all they did was get oversalted content which got salty fans, since they forgot to add actual herbs and spices.

it's a bloody hot day okay. i love the sun as much -nevermind apparently this is a lie-

so i don't hate the sun okay. i enjoy sunshine in specific environments. the sun is not a tyrant devoid of compassion.

anyways i live in a desert because its whats best for the people i love but give me mist and foggy days and give me winters of waist deep snow i can fall in. oceans so cold your lips go blue and rivers so deep and clear and still cold with melting ice.

if people are going to send me 8-10 feet to the bottom of the lake because they lost their electronics. it better be cold and clear. not warm and murky. (this has only happened 3 times but i have a preference).

So I made Say breakfast and nightshade breakfast and then I made @saeths breakfast a few hours later so i made an extra egg for nightshade to tempt him to eat another bowl of kibble.

so i fed nightshade twice and forgot to make any eggs for myself ^_^ so he is plenty spoiled (don't worry his egg was made without cheese and salt).

also the reason i'm awake is because he needed snuggles and after that he wanted to play in the pool and then i was too awake to bother

but that's our wednesday so far and i'm getting my work out of the way so i can focus on writing and house things.

<3 lumine

-

Magnus is ready with another quick retort when Alec’s face goes blank for a moment.

The argument fades from Magnus’ mind in an instant, because while this is the perfect moment to land another barb, the words die and his sentence stops, ending with a snide comment he doesn’t really mean.

“That’s fine Magnus.” Alec says and he’s not angry, which is worse. He sounds tired and yet professional. His manner restrained and placating in the way he does when he no longer has any fight left and he just wants to retreat and lick his wounds.

Wounds that Magnus caused.

“Alexander—” Magnus starts, because he didn’t intend to get so upset but Alexander just shakes his head.

“You’ve said your piece, Magnus. I get it.” Alexander sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he shuffles. “I messed up, again.”

Magnus winces, because he’s begun to feel more like a scolding mentor than a partner.

“I need to get to the Institute—” which makes sense, the argument started as they both got ready for their days. “I’ll—” and Alec hesitates and then shrugs, “I’ll see you tonight.”

—

Magnus waits until it’s dinner time and then portals to the Institute, already preparing words to once again explain that it’s not Alexander, it’s just not time yet.

He opens the door to the office without knocking and steps in.

“Alexander—” Magnus starts and then he hesitates.

Because for once, Alexander’s eyes don’t soften when they meet his. They remain cold, devoid of the warm ardor they normally contain but once again, without anger. Only an empty tiredness that Magnus longs to chase away.

“Do you have an appointment today, Magnus?” Alexander asks, setting down his pen and turning off his tablet with a sigh. Even upset Alexander will still give him his full attention and Magnus steps closer to the desk when Alexander continues, “because I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for a meal, or a conversation if it’s not official. So, if you don’t have an appointment, it needs to wait until I’m off.”

Alexander doesn’t mention coming home like he normally does, and Magnus suddenly misses it, with a deep lonely ache.

It also reminds Magnus that despite how often Alexander drops everything to join him, his boy is being worked to the ground and also driving himself to his limits in his pursuit of building a better Institute. Alexander is struggling to create ties between an Institute and local downworld leaders that would be revolutionary, with a sincerity that is unmatched by anything Magnus has ever seen.

Of course, he’s exhausted, and Magnus feels hollow now, remembering their fight all over again with a new clarity.

“No darling, it’s nothing official. I’ll see you tonight—” Magnus pauses, wanting to offer to summon Alec something to eat or drink, but it feels too much like an emotional bribe with how shuttered his boy is. Alexander nods and gives him the same perfunctory, polite smile he gives his siblings when he’s too exhausted to deal with them and doesn’t know what else to do.

It cuts Magnus to the heart to have that same expression directed at him, when he’s supposed to be safe for Alexander.

Magnus can’t handle the idea of reaching out only to be shied away from, so he runs from the possibility and instead summons a tiny flower to land by Alexander’s pen when the door shuts.

No one in the Institute seems to notice anything is wrong. Magnus gets a few strange looks, but he quickly realizes that it’s because everyone expected Alexander to be leaving with him, like his boy usually does.

Magnus feels cold and it’s with determination that he sends out an emergency message.

—

“I became stagnant in my old, single age.” Magnus bemoans, “I spent so long on my heartbreak that now, with a man I adore over every living being, I keep pushing him away.”

“Truth potion?” Catarina offers but Magnus shakes his head. Alexander deserves Magnus explaining this without the aid of something to help his thoughts form, even if it’s a trick Magnus has used continually and without remorse on himself.

This is different though because Magnus wants to become aware of what is wrong, not rely on a potion to figure it out.

“He wants to move in.” Magnus starts, about to launch into it when Cat laughs, interrupting him.

“What do you mean he wants to, he already has. Or did you just move him in on the sly and forget to ask him if he wanted to?”

“Cat—” Magnus says hesitantly, “he’s never moved in. He’s the one who brought it up. I told him no.”

Catarina pauses and then she sighs, and she summons her favorite, light summer beer and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Start from the beginning, Magnus. I need details.”

Magnus does, realizing things that he missed as he’s explaining so many details that he just assumed and took for granted.

“I did wonder that the Loft hasn’t changed much. It seems more like Alec’s an addition to your things rather than his own person.”

It’s that comment that drives Magnus into a frenzy the moment he’s home.

Magnus doesn’t go overboard; Alexander wouldn’t want him to. Also springing this on his boy after the prior rejection will be too much like whiplash.

So, Magnus starts very small.

He finally creates the foyer he promised himself and Alexander he would make.

Alexander’s never pushed but Magnus remembers the tightening of his shoulders and the way Alexander will be too tired for anything but cuddles — rarely even hungry — after barrages of people through the loft.

The kitchen he only summons when Alexander asks, which is rare, so he makes it a permanent fixture and makes sure to hang an apron with little angel wings up. It’s with a pained smile that he sighs and wonders when he got so old that he forgot to enjoy life, and instead spent all his time focused on the past, just like Ragnor always warned him about.

Magnus doesn’t want to regret any time with Alexander, and he finds that he already does.

Not the time spent with his boy, but the time he could have focused on him more.

Magnus has spent so long protecting himself from losing Alexander, that he hasn’t noticed that he’s pushing him away, stopping him from coming too close.

Except Magnus has also bound him tightly.

Alexander sleeps more often in Magnus’ bed than his own. He’s rerouted his own schedule so he can take the last patrol before shift change, come to Magnus’ loft, write his report there and send it in, and be in bed for Magnus to return to.

Except for work, Alexander spends the majority of his daily life either in the loft, or with Magnus.

There are signs of him, all over the loft, but Magnus can’t look at a single piece and think, “Alexander picked that out.”

It aches in way that is almost visceral, because now that Alexander isn’t here, it’s only more obvious.

Magnus is chest deep in a drawer when he becomes aware of his boy stepping slowly into the bedroom.

“Is this a bad time?” Alexander’s tired voice asks. “I noticed there was a new door and tried to knock but the door just opened.”

Magnus wants to say something except he’s furious with himself and everything and the idea that Alexander saw a new door and knocked instead of walking right in, tears something in him.

They stare at each other for a moment, Magnus with his hands still wrist deep in the dimensional dresser, sure he’ll eventually find more than the sparse offering of Alexander’s clothes that he has.

“Where are all the clothes that you leave here?” Magnus asks instead of answering because he genuinely doesn’t know, “I was cleaning, and I couldn’t find them.”

Alexander sighs and Magnus just knows that he’s gearing himself up to — once again — explain to Magnus that it’s not about the clothes, before his boy visibly gets too tired. Instead, he just shrugs and potions to the paltry pile that Magnus has found.

“You have more than that!” Magnus exclaims, frustrated because he knows Alexander does. “That green shirt I got you that you loved. And those pants, the black ones with the umber stitching. The cream sweater I adore you in! That suit I had tailored for you in Milan and the other one in Hong Kong.”

Alexander sighs and he rubs a hand over his face, the stubble he normally shaves away in Magnus— in their bathroom, shadowing his face.

“Magnus, those don’t exist anymore.” Alexander doesn’t seem upset, if anything his face softens into an almost reluctant fondness, “you tend to vanish all the clothing you get me, some way or another. Mostly before fucking me. I tried to ask you one time where they went and you waved a hand and said, ‘another dimension, nothing to worry about’.”

“Surely that’s not all I said.” Magnus protests weakly.

“Well, you proceeded to fuck me unconscious so no, it wasn’t the last thing you said. But it was the last thing you said abut clothes.”

Magnus gives a flat chuckle and then sighs, snapping his fingers to clean up the mess.

“Have you eaten?”

“I figured I could grab something from the cafeteria when I head back. It’s fine.”

It most certainly is not fine, but Magnus doesn’t think coaxing Alexander into eating is going to work this time, which means that Magnus has accidentally undone weeks of effort.

Magnus doesn’t press, doesn’t remind Alexander that he can here. Or that, if by normal standards Alexander stays until he usually leaves Magnus, it would be the early evening of the next day.

“So, you were cleaning.”

Alexander is looking around, voice faltering but face devoid of actual emotions.

“I realized some things, after this afternoon.” Magnus admits slowly, “you’re the first person I opened my heart to, Alexander. In a very long time, I’ve told you that before.”

Normally, explaining things is easier but all Magnus can think is he’s not explaining it correctly.

“I know. But Magnus, you’re the first person I’ve ever opened my heart to.” Alexander interjects and he sounds raw and broken, like he’s been torn apart. “Doesn’t that get to mean anything too, to you? Because I don’t know what I’m doing, and you told me that there was nothing wrong with that. That I had nothing to feel ashamed about but now, it doesn’t feel like that.

"It feels like I can’t do anything right and I thought, I hoped something was coming together with us but now—” Alexander gives a heavy sigh and shrugs. “Now I don’t even know what I am to you anymore. Where do I belong, in your life Magnus? If you tell me where to fit, I’ll make it work.”

And that breaks Magnus’ heart, because Alexander was never meant to feel like he had to cut off pieces of himself to ensure Magnus loves him, that he has a place in Magnus’ life.

“Oh darling, beloved.” He murmurs and Alexander flinches, like it was a knife to his side. “You belong. The entirety of you. You belong in my bed because it’s no longer just my bed. How can I say it’s my bed when I lay in it without you and can’t sleep? When I reach for you in the night and can’t find you?” Magnus moves across the room with slow, purposeful steps and then reaches out to carefully — only because Alexander allows it — cups his face.

“Alexander, I have no excuses. My heart is old, and it is scarred and it is a wonder that you love me with all the cracks you’ve seen exposed. I don’t fear men or demons or angels, Alexander. I fear my heart being torn from my body and leaving me alive, an empty hollow cavern where it should be in the shape of you.

“I’ve always been too much, Alexander. I put my own fears on you, not that you deserved any of it, sweetheart. You’re right. I am your first relationship, and you grew up and live in a shadowhunter society. The relationships you've witnessed aren't similar to ours at all.

"You trust me to guide our relationship but I’m always encouraging you to ask me for things and you rarely do. I’m sorry, that you finally trusted me enough to ask me for something and that I broke that trust.”

And Alexander breaks, his eyes filling with tears and he coughs, scrubbing over his eyes because he hates being emotional during talks like these. As if Magnus will use the crystal sorrow streaking his face against him.

“I don’t understand.” Alexander murmurs against Magnus’ shoulder, “I thought this was already my home, here with you. I don’t know what I did wrong, I’m sorry Magnus.”

“Oh sayang.” Magnus whispers, eyes stinging because his heart is lanced every time Alexander apologizes. “You did nothing wrong. My heart was too scared to admit that you already were home for us, I pushed you away because I panicked. I’m sorry, my darling.”

Magnus is as tender and sincere as he can be, because he doesn’t want Alexander internalizing anything over this. Especially not when he realized that for Alexander, the loft already was home and he just wanted permission, for it to be official.

It’s endearing and sweet and Magnus presses a kiss to Alexander’s temple, softly and then harder when Alexander pushes into the caress.

"This is already your home. Where ever I am, will be your home." Magnus promises, "that will never change, my love. This is our space, for us to grow together and live together in.

Instead, Alexander tackles him to the bed and just lays there, pinning Magnus to the comforter as he snuggles into Magnus.

"Alexander?"

There is no answer, just a soft, exhausted snuffle and Magnus wonders how upset Alexander's been, thinking he was deprived of the home Magnus gave him.

He uses magic to change their clothing. More conversations and decisions can be made after rest and well, Alexander certainly isn't going anywhere and neither is Magnus.

[thousand-winters]

TWP FIC RECS???

I was about to say I haven't read anything about TWP but that's a lie, actually, I did have a Hot Second in which I was craving fics so bad. I just never took them out of my "hey, comment on this" folder because I haven't done that yet...

Now, my memory is bad and I have gotten through a bunch of fandoms since reading these so I can't speak too much of the plots but here goes:

Effortless (Or, the time Kit almost earned an A-Level) by amchara: I think this was the first TWP fic I read and oh, goodness, it was a good choice because the narration is so smooth and fun to read, the characterization is on top and while I don't remember the exact details of the plot, I remember jumping to read whenever this updated because it's so enthralling. I probably should give it a reread too sometime.

Guide You Home by Fyrefaux: Love me some Kit and Ash having a bond and in this one, they're established parabatai already. Once again, it's been a while but I remember falling in love with the descriptions and plot from chapter 1.

Choking on Love by Fyrefaux: Hanahaki fic so if that's not your thing, you probably shouldn't go for this one. Heavily focus on the platonic relationships once again and I'm just so incredibly soft by how Kieran is so soft for Kit in this one. Plus we got some exploration of Kit's past, which was very important to me because sometimes I feel like people forget he went through child abuse and neglect.

Bronze for Wicked Powers by Fyrefaux: Admittedly I haven't finished reading this one because the fixation for other fandoms hit when I was in the middle of it and by now it's finished, but I just know it's good. The subplot with Ash and Janus was killing me a little in the best of ways.

I swear by Fyrefaux because while you do have the romance aspect of it, the familiar bonds and friendships feature heavily in their fics, which is the key with these characters, I believe. They do not exist in a vacuum and they have so many issues when it comes to family and friends that I just adore when that importance is acknowledged. Bless.

[thiawen]

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

The Blessings of a Curse

“No. Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would rather die.” He vowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” He frowned. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

[greentealycheejelly]

My art for to be protected (is to be loved) by the lovely @thatnerdemryn - go check it out! 😄

This art was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by @malecdiscordserver

[cr3sswellsgf]

boxes of clementines | w. herondale

will herondale x fem reader, no mention of shadowhunter stuff, established relationship, husband!will, fluff!!!! so much fluff!!!!, cross posted on ao3 under @/kvohru

‘There are boxes of clementines in the kitchen and the thing is that I love you again.’ — Alessia Di Cesare, The Side Effects of Eating Too Many Clementines

Despite it being a December morning, it was surprisingly warm in your home— for a wintry London day's standards, that is. The sun was up, for one thing, its delicate rays filtering through the clouds and into your kitchen.

Perhaps it's the fact that you live in the countryside? you thought idly as you put away your groceries. Maybe that's why it was sunnier today? Well, regardless, your warm friend was still a welcome guest any day.

Seeing as how it was the weekend today, neither you nor Will had work, so you took it as a chance to get caught up on some housekeeping chores like groceries and such. Well, you had been out getting groceries while Will—who was set to return by the afternoon—was out doing… other things. (He was out replacing something or the other, you weren't quite focusing when he had told you about it the other day.)

And so you went on, adopting a tranquil rhythm, sorting boxes into cupboards and washing all the fresh produce you'd bought. Apples, strawberries and cucumbers were left to soak in the sink while the boxes of clementines were left on the kitchen counters.

You let out a contented sigh. It was a good morning.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It was well past the afternoon when Will was walking up the stone walkway to the quaint countryside home. In fact, the sun was already starting to set by then, the pale blue sky quickly turning a warm orange instead.

He trudged up the steps to the front porch, adjusting the large bouquet in his hands; a brilliant arrangement of flowers that he didn't think twice about buying when he passed by that florist he often frequented for you.

He shifted the bags he was carrying along with said bouquet to his other arm, freeing up his right to dig into his coat pocket for the keys. “Cariad?” he called as he walked in, toeing his shoes off and placing them neatly beside the door.

It was a few seconds before your reply, which came in form of a Hm?, could be heard. He set all the bags down. A few more seconds where he could hear your feet padding across the wooden floors before you finally, finally, came into view.

“Will!” After all these years, you still had a way of seeming utterly excited when seeing him. I mean, he could practically see the almost cartoonish glimmer in your eyes from across the room.

“Hey, darling,” he greeted gently, his whole body instantly relaxing at the sight of you. It was as if simply being around you worked all the knots from his shoulders and eased all his muscles.

The smile wholly transformed your face at the sound of the term of endearment, the corners of your eyes crinkling adorably and your lips splitting instantly into a wide smile.

The setting sun cast long shadows on the ground, the slanting rays giving a warm orange tinge to the earth, the sky and everything in between.

Your eyes finally left his face and travelled down to his body, where you finally spotted the bouquet balanced on his elbow. He had thought it'd be the first thing you'd notice when he walked in, seeing as how it was almost as big as his torso, but you hadn't.

You'd been too transfixed on his face, on him, to notice anything else.

Your face instantly softened, an almost infinitesimal shift in your expression that would've been impossible to notice if it were anyone else looking at you. But Will noticed. He always did.

It was like it was happening in slow motion, that change in your expression. From the previous childlike joy at seeing your husband to the look of pure, unadulterated love in your eyes.

“Oh, darling,” you breathed, almost to yourself, as you walked closer. You gingerly plucked the bouquet out of his arm, instantly pulling it up to your face to smell it. It really was a gorgeous arrangement; from the roses to the carnations to the peonies, and the tiny pieces of baby's breath sprinkled throughout.

And the part that made it all the more precious to you was that you knew Will had taken time out of his day to put it together. You knew it wasn't prearranged, and the image of your husband standing at the florist and meticulously putting together an assortment of flowers for you warmed your heart to an immeasurable degree.

“Will,” you breathed again, and… were you getting teary-eyed? You looked up at him, and yep, those were definitely tears lining your waterline. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth lifting at the sight. “They're so beautiful. You're so beautiful. Thank you so much. I love you.”

You were gushing your praises and gratitude now, and it wouldn't be long before—

“Wait,” you mumbled, a look of realisation (which looked more like horror than anything) falling over your face. You whipped your head around, your ponytail smacking him in the chest from the force of the motion.

He barely contained his amused scoff. You were and would always be incredibly and adorably predictable. Not to mention incredibly easy to read, too.

“No occasion,” he said, interrupting your Oh No Did I Miss An Important Date?™ scanning-over-the-calendar routine. You let out an audible sigh of relief, your whole body slumping forward with the motion, and this time Will couldn't hold back the smug grin.

You set the bouquet down and looked at him, suspicious despite your relief. He could practically hear the question in your gaze (refer back to what I said about you being incredibly easy to read), and he was sure it went something like this: A bouquet this big for no reason?

He sighed dramatically and leaned closer, his voice taking on that classic teasing lilt of his, “What? Can't a man surprise his wife with flowers in peace?”

“But why?” you insisted quietly. Clearly, you were incredibly worried you'd somehow forgotten about an important date. Because what if you had and Will, being the ever so gracious (debatable) man that he was, didn't want to embarrass you by reminding you?

“Just because.”

“But it's so big.” Your worried gaze met his, and his grin split even wider.

“Not the only big thing I can—”

You smacked him lightly on the arm to shut him up. “Come on!” he complained, forever the melodramatic man that he was, “You practically walked into that one!”

You rolled your eyes, but the gesture held absolutely no heat, especially not when you were smiling despite yourself. “Thank you,” you said sincerely, rising up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, and hoping he could sense the extent of your gratitude in that kiss.

“Of course, my love,” he murmured softly between kisses, the teasing leaving his voice entirely and being replaced by an insurmountable amount of love.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

A while later, after he had changed and joined you back in the kitchen, the two of you could be found sitting at the kitchen island, sharing a clementine.

[steamworksfairy]

Thinking about how the silence between Kit and Ty has to be the loudest thing Ty has ever heard. He can handle crowds and the heat of battle because he has his headphones helping to filter the noise out. But they can't help him with Kit. Not when all there is is silence and waiting for the day that Kit forgives him...

(And Kit wishing he could 😭😭😭😭😭)

[loki-nightfire]

Genie Magnus and magic bottle. Fic illustration

Read here

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

pez dispenser debris by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

Young Izuku nods. He’s still pale, with a careful blankness to his face, and his shoulders tremble slightly when he moves. In a small, sure voice, he says, “I’ve thought about what you told me, and what I’ve seen. And there’s only one explanation: I’m dead.”

“Ah,” says Mirio.

Izuku rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. “We should probably just call Mr. Aizawa.”

---

There are versions of himself that Izuku wishes he could bury.

Marvel

the first step of kintsugi by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

Frank breaks into David’s house and shakes him awake. When the screaming finally stops, he tells him, “I need you to help me find Spider-Man."

DC (Batman)

Batman, go grab your Robin... Wait, wrong Robin! by IzzyMRDB

im just wanted to go trick-or-treating as Robin this year. He had been working so hard on his costume and it looked so authentic, he really just wanted it to be appreciated.

How did he end up being kidnapped by Batman?

AKA: A sleep-deprived and lightly concussed Bruce grabs the wrong Robin when heading home from Halloween Patrol.

Clone Wars

To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) by Batsutousai

As a Jedi Shadow, Obi-Wan hadn't expected to have much to do with the clone troopers. Until, suddenly, he does.

Shadowhunters

Dona Nobis Pacem by lawsofchaos (+ podfic)

"When Alec kneels before you on that dais, Magnus,” Jace keeps going, “he’s telling every person present that it is your judgement, your respect, that he places before all others. In you placing that rune on his neck, Alec is publicly proclaiming that it’s your blessing and your judgement on him and on his reign as Head that gives him the right and the authority to uphold the Covenant.”

Magnus' throat is too tight to speak, but there’s a distinct shimmer visible in his suddenly unglamoured eyes.

[banesapothecary]

My first @malecdiscordserver By the Angel Bingo prompt fill! (yes i know i really waited for the last minute)

Prompt: Forehead kisses

trouble's always gonna find you, baby (but so will I)

Magnus is sleeping when Alec hurries into the guest room with a bottle of water from Lake Lyn. It’s a testament to how sick he truly is, Alec thinks grimly, that he could sleep so easily in an Institute. He’s slept in a few over his many years, Alec knows, though recently always with Alec at his side, and sleep was hard won for Magnus even then. It’s gotten better over the last few years, but even so.

“Baby,” Alec says, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through Magnus’s hair. It’s free of any gel or spray, loose and soft and a little sweaty. His skin feels clammy, and Alec’s heart seizes in his chest as he clutches the bottle a little tighter. “Magnus, can you wake up for me?”

Magnus’s eyes didn’t open, but he made a noise of protest.

“Just for a minute, baby,�� Alec says. “It’s important. Just for a minute, and then you can sleep again, okay?” He leans down to kiss Magnus’s forehead. “Please, Magnus.”

This time, Magnus blinks, his cat eyes half-lidded and hazy as he peers up at Alec. “Alec?”

read on ao3

[lurafita]

TWI prompt

In the inverted world, the world had been demon free for many years. Enough that Magnus hadn't had use for his magic. Enough that shadowhunters stopped training new generations. Enough that maybe, there weren't actually many downworlders left. Werewolves have human lifespans, and without continuous infection, weres would cease to exist. Vampires might have gone a similiar route, maybe some of them choosing final death. Same for warlocks. Especially as there would be no new warlocks, as there would be no demons going to earth to impregnate mundane women. Now imagine that this dimension hopping and that demon that got to the inverted world, messed with the balance there. Suddenly long dormant wards are being attacked. Suddenly the barrier between the mundane world and the hell dimensions seems to weaken. And Magnus knows it's only a matter of time before the first rift opens up, and his newly reawakened magic might not be enough to confront whatever might pop out. His plan is to contact whatever downworlders are still alive, to help prepare for a possible fight. He doesn't quite know what to do with the pretty party planner with the angel blood running through his veins. Or his equally nephilim and no idea about it siblings. But it seems Alexander is determined to get to know Magnus. All of him.

[carelessflower]

veiled fate

Sun set, sun fell, Idris and Edom proposed a truce. The ever-lascivious King Asmodeus had folded, more than willing to open a new trade road between the kingdoms for the eldest Lightwood’s hand in marriage.

So now, Alec simply awaited his fate, watching impassively as servants and tailors fluttered around him like ants and bees, making sure he turned up to be the perfect bride.

A willing sacrifice.

His siblings tried to reject the proposal at first- anyone in their sane mind would, Asmodeus wasn’t known as a kind lover. All six of his wives had died painfully, some during childbirth, or the dangerous politic of the harem, or the king’s sadistic play. He took and took and took, until spring blooms cried to desserts, and he left to conquer another land.

Alec had no illusion he wasn’t the next victim. Better him than Izzy, that was.

“You can’t do this.” Came Jace’s whisper. “Please, there’s still time, run away, don’t let this marriage ruin your life.”

Alec was glad he was hiding behind the wedding veil, separating him from the desperate, sad expressions his brother must have on his face. “There’s no other choice.” Their kingdom needed this allegiance, and King Asmodeus wanted a new plaything. “It’s my duty, and I suggest you respect my choice, Jace.”

There was no other protest after that, just sounds of Jace pushing over everyone when he stormed out. He wouldn’t be far for long, he was in charge of leading Alec’s carriage to Edom.

The journey was tedious, exhausting even. Alec felt layers upon layers of silk and brocade weighing him down. The two kingdoms had spared no expense for this wedding to happen, especially with the wedding veil. While Edom gave away their precious lace, Idris tailors spent days and nights stitching pearls and crystals to every mile of the fabric.

An excessive cage, trapping Alec to his doom.

In the carriage. In Edom. In the ceremonial hall. Alec bowed and made the vow before the gods with his new husband, his heart growing colder by the second.

When servants had sat him down in the private chamber, Alec was numb from it all. Here he was, waiting for his brute of a husband to swoop in and take him, hands clenching in his lap.

The door creaked.

Alec's husband had come.

Tick. Tick. The water clock rolled. Alec heard footsteps coming closer.

Then there were hands lifting Alec’s veil while he remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the ground, one hand reaching into his sleeve, twisting the gold bangle. It was a gift from Izzy, and it cheered with the final chance to prove its usefulness.

Alec uncapped a secret hidden underneath the bracelet and felt a hefty weight on his hand, sharp and dangerous. He struck when the king got closer, lunging forward with his dagger, fighting with every last breath. Unfortunately, the king did the same, and in the end, victory didn’t smile upon Alec.

His back hit the bed below hard, anger and dejection seeping through his veins.

“Kill me if you want.” He spat out. “But as long as I live, I would never submit to you.”

“Oh darling, why’d I kill my bride?” The king smiled, his green golden eyes flickered in the dim light of candles, and Alec was annoyed the portrait sent to him hadn’t done this man justice. He was younger, and more approachable, though still carried similar striking features in the painting.

Alec breathed heavily, confusion rolled off in his throat. Asmodeus seemed more willing to play with his victim than he thought.

“Tsh– Look at me forgetting my manner.” Magnus leaned down, one hand pinning Alec’s hands above his head while the other used the prince’s dagger to slice off buttons on his fancy attire. Alec whimpered, feeling the coldness danced against his skin. Soon enough, the once lavish robe turned to ribbons, hanging desperately on Alec’s body. “There’s been a change in management, I’m Magnus Bane, and your new husband.”

Taking advantage of Alec’s stunned silence, Magnus took a step further, throwing Alec's legs over his shoulder. Alec moaned out loud, the first of a long night.

“My king–I, ah.”

“You’re so good for me, my darling consort. Say my name, say it.”

“M–Magnus, Magnus.”

for @pocketoffeels keep feeding us with ur chaotic genius