Oh geez, I hope you’re not going to do that to every single one of my posts, I don’t have the sort of time on my hands to reply. But just this once, why not.
I’m well aware that Shadowhunters want to fight demons. I mean that it’s a life fighting and risking your life. It’s easy to want that until you’re actually doing it and/or have lost people to it. Besides, them being indoctrinated doesn’t mean I have to agree with the doctrine.
I’m going to take a wild guess and say that you’re purposefully ignoring certain elements. Even if you didn’t know what homophobia was, am I really supposed to believe no one ever used “gay” as an insult (or slurs) around you, for instance? Not in your family, not at school, not even in your entertainment? Especially considering Shadowhunters are supposedly homophobic (even if we never see it anywhere), she’s been exposed to it.
I’m well aware that the Institute only looks like a ruin to mundane eyes. But…that’s precisely my point. When there’s a ruin in the middle of a city, people generally do something about it. They don’t just leave it there. Maybe it’s a security hazard and we want to get rid of it, or maybe (considering the view that is described) someone wants to buy the terrain and build something else on it. It doesn’t matter if it’s an illusion, since people don’t know that it’s an illusion. Also, that quote from the wiki comes from the Shadowhunter’s Codex (the Shadowhunter wiki puts references in all their articles). I’m reviewing TMI. If the books can’t explain their own rules, it’s bad writing.
I said myself that I may be overly harsh to complain about it…but still. It bothers me because it keeps happening. Throughout the entire series (as well as TID), women are repeatedly kept away from the action. I’m pointing it out every time it happens to better highlight that it’s not a one-off issue but a systematic problem. So yes, it’s justified here, but it still fits into the pattern. And, you know, Clare’s the author. If she wants, she could come up with equally justifiable scenarios that don’t fit this pattern. It’s all in her hands. So no, I won’t let her off the hook for it.
I didn’t aspect you to answer me, but thank you anyway for your time. I like listening to others’ opinions.
First of all, you’re right. I didn’t say that you have to agree with them—I just pointed out the fact that it’s totally IC for her to want to fight demons. You said, “She has no idea what she’s talking about,” but her family died while hunting, so I believe she does know what she’s doing and what she wants to do.
Even if there’s the possibility that I can’t recall any of these moments, maybe because I was too little, I have to say that if I can’t recall them, then maybe they weren’t important or didn’t affect me in any way. But I do understand what you’re saying—Shadowhunters family tends to be homophobic. But there is a small possibility that Emma wasn’t exposed, or just doesn’t care about it. I’m not saying it to defend Cassandra Clare, but to defend people in general. I do believe that people can have their own opinion about different topics. And I want to think that Emma does have one of her own about homosexuality. (But, again, in books everyone interprets words in different ways, because of their own story or mindset. Maybe we won’t ever agree with this topic, and I think that’s okay anyway.)
The ruins are like Hogwarts’. The magic of the place keep people away. You can’t explain magic with human’s rules. People stay away from the ruins because magic keeps them away. You don’t need any other explanation, because this is fantasy, not science fiction. And also for the quote, I linked the Wikia because my books are in Italian and Italian-to-English translation it’s a little difficult. But, if I don’t remember wrong, Jace explained to Clary how the glamour works in the first book.
And for the last point, I agree with you. I haven’t got much to add, you’ve already said it all.
It’s interesting that you should mention Hogwarts bc the glamours on the institutes are clearly inspired by it, except C forgot the key elment that makes the magic work within HP: the muggle-repelling charms. Or whatever they’d be named in TSC verse.
In HP, magical places don’t rely on one technique to stay hidden, they use:
Illusions, to make them look like places you don’t want to be in
Spells that causes people who come near to go ‘oh geez, I really need to be somewhere else atm’ (thereby preventing them from wondering what that ruin is doing here in the first place)
Unmappable spells, preventing people from, well, sharing the location of a certain place
On occasion, a Fidelius charm, preventing people from disclosing said location.
In TMI, all they only have the illusion and, as Talys pointed out,it’s not enough to keep people away. so if CC wanted her Institutes to work like Hogwarts, she should have specified it and said in the bok that there were spells keeping people away, but she didn’t–she just said the Institutes looked like ruins and that was pretty much enough to keep people out, which is a logic fail.
I had high hopes for Kingsman: The Secret Service. There are gifsets of it all over Tumblr. Everybody said
it was great and fun and refreshing. Even my beloved Foz Meadows praised it as
‘a biting debunk of the James Bond franchise… it takes all of Bond’s hallowed
trappings – the spy gadgets, the sharp suits, the suave badassery – and
explicitly removes both the misogyny and the classism that traditionally
underpins them.’ So, having grown up on the Bond movies, I was eager to witness
it for myself. And indeed I spent most of the film half-convinced that I liked
it, or at least that I was going to,
any minute now.
But despite the excellent direction,
choreography, and clever humor, I was left wondering what the hell everyone else had been watching when they said it was progressive.
Okay, here I’ve thought about Alec and Magnus being at a party and deciding to make out because ‘let’s try it and what happens at a party, stays at the party, right?’ (original AU-post)
Now I thought, that this party was a college party and Alec refused to take Izzy with him, which is one of the reasons he got up the nerve to even ask Magnus that question. I don’t think that I have to mention that it turned into quite a make out session and in the end they sat in the car together (Magnus drove them) silently next to each other, each of them going ‘I am so screwed’.
They decide not to tell Isabelle because it’s nothing serious yet and they don’t want to involve Izzy too much into something that they aren’t sure yet. (They pretty much decide not to tell anybody.) But of course, Izzy has her friends in college who she calls and they mention something like “Yeah, and by the way, I saw your brother making out for hours with some guy, but I only saw the guy’s back and-” “HOLD ON!”
Isabelle finds out by the next morning or the next day who the other guy was and innocently asks Alec during breakfast:
“So, dear brother, how is your hangover going?”
Alec didn’t bother to look up from the bowl of milk-soaked cereals he was eating. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep because his treacherous mind had kept replaying what had happened between him and Magnus and … yeah, not the thoughts for the breakfast table.
“I don’t have a hangover, Iz. Only had like one beer, not everybody needs to get completely wasted at these parties …,” he muttered with a sigh because he had to get to work today and he so wasn’t emotionally ready yet to face the task of ‘being friendly to strangers’. In hindsight he probably would have noticed that certain tone in his sister’s voice which usually was a clear sign of a trap. He also would have seen the broad grin on her face, had he bothered to look up.
“So, you don’t have any blackouts?” “No?”
A short silence followed and Alec was already hoping that the conversation was over with that, but even if hope died last, it still died.
“So, you would totally remember if you … maybe had your hands up some really cute guy’s shirt or if it was the other way around maybe … sometime during the night?”
Alec froze. The spoon with too much milk and not enough cereal anymore stopped halfway to his mouth. He swallowed heavily not daring to look up yet, but he could feel the teasing smirk of his sister burning a hole in the top of his head.
Alec takes literature as his major and he and Jace end up roommates much to Alec’s delight because he was already nervous as hell at the prospect of sharing a room with a complete stranger.
Alec is still a little insecure about his sexuality. He came out about 6 months before and though his mother seemed okay with it his father was angry and said some very unforgivable things to him. Alec is glad he is leaving for college.
Alec and Jace leave for college and they are unloading boxes from the car and carrying them upstairs.
Alec carries too many boxes at once and he takes a wrong turn and gets lost..
He panics because he has no idea where he is and this is exactly why he hates new places.
The door opens and a boy emerges. He’s tall and handsome. His hair is spiked up and he’s wearing glitter around his eyes. He registers Alec’s confusion and grins and okay Alec’s heart is beating fast in his chest.
‘Lost?’
‘Uh, looks like it. I have no idea where I am.’
Alec is sheepish and Magnus finds it adorable. Magnus introduces himself and he keeps calling Alec blue eyes until
‘It’s Alec.’
‘I prefer calling you blue-eyes.’
‘Sounds exhausting.’
‘I can never get tired of calling you.’
And Alec is blushing.
Magnus helps Alec set up his room and deliberately brushing his arm against Alec’s and loving the way Alec is shy around him.
He leaves his number on Alec’s arm with a blue glitter pen. Alec is blushing the whole time and okay he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to breath.
Alec is wearing a shit eating grin when Magnus leaves and he can’t believe the cute guy gave him his number. He sobers up the minute Jace enters the room. Jace ofcourse keeps asking about the number
‘Who wrote that?’
‘I-I did?’
‘Why would you write numbers in glitter?’
‘Because it’s….shiny?’
‘You hate glitter.’
‘How do you know I hate glitter?’
Jace loves teasing him about it.
Alec definitely does not hate glitter. In Fact he comes to his room at night with his hands covered in glitter (makeout session *cough*) which is very hard to remove.
Magnus gives him his makeup remover for it.
Jace finds the makeup remover
‘Cross dressing? I didn’t think it was your thing.’
‘Shut up, Jace.’
Their first date is at a coffee shop. Alec drinks too much coffee because he is nervous as hell.
Jace knows everything and he’s so happy for his brother because he has never seen Alec so happy and so carefree with anyone except for his siblings.
Alec and Magnus conversing about books and exchanging them. They fanboy over their favorite characters and Magnus writes him erotic fanfiction which Alec reads with a very red face at night, under a blanket.
Alec introducing Magnus to Izzy and they share fashion tips.
Alec letting Magnus experiment on him with clothes and make up and stuff. He helps Magnus with his projects.
Magnus giving Alec great ideas for his writing
‘You should be a literature major.’
‘Nah, I don’t have the talent like you do, sweet pea.’
Magnus and Alec having candle light dinner and being cheesy. It ends up with Alec knocking over the candle and setting the table cloth on fire because why should they have a one normal date oh my God.
Izzy coming over to visit and they are in Magnus’s room and
‘Your brother is so dreamy.’ Magnus sighs.
‘I’m right here, Magnus.’ Alec deadpans.
Raphael kicking Magnus and Alec out of the room.
‘DIOS! Get a room!’
‘We are in a room.’
‘Well, you’re not anymore.’
Magnus and Alec staying up all night for finals. Bringing each other coffee and draping blankets around each other and making sure the other one is sleeping enough. Alec ofcourse takes care of Jace too. And Raphael. He leaves aspirin on Raphael’s bed when Raphael is having a headache because he knows how Magnus feels about Raphael and also because Alec is a mom.
Connor’s about to leave and Oliver is standing there half-blocking the exit, babbling on and waving his hands around in small circles. He’s holding a small key in one of them.
“You don’t have to. Don’t feel like you have to.”
“Oliver.”
“I just thought… Since you’re always here anyway. Wouldn’t it make more sense if you could…?”
Connor narrows his eyes, suspicious. Oliver’s nervously worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He’s pushed up his falling glasses three times now – no, four – in this thirty second conversation.
“It’s stupid, though. You probably don’t even want… It’s too much. I’m being too much. Just – go. Go, and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You’ll come by tomorrow?” Without waiting for Connor’s reply, Oliver steps in a kisses Connor’s cheek. “It was… You are…” He coughs. “Nice seeing you.” Then he darts out of the room – actually runs! – and disappears into the kitchen.
Connor’s ready to go. He’s got his shoes on and his coat. His bag is in his hand. But this doesn’t feel right. Something’s obviously going on. Nice seeing you? What the hell was that? It’s Connor’s duty as Oliver’s boyfriend to find out what that is, right? It helps that he doesn’t want to go home yet. He hates his empty, Oliver-less apartment.
So Connor chases Oliver into the kitchen. He finds him in the corner, his face buried in his hands.
Has anybody ever thought about a ‘Ten things I hate about you’-Malec AU?
With Alec being the ‘Bad Boy’ and Magnus as Kat, but I don’t know yet who to take for Bianca. And with Magnus’ mother as ‘the strict dad’.
With the scene that after a proper build up of sexual tension and frustration between Magnus and Alec and a bit of mean teasing from Alec, he ends up going to Magnus’ house when everybody else is out and it’s raining like hell. Alec’s drenched with water and pretty much running on adrenalin, stress and sexual frustration. Magnus is still mad at him for whatever happened at school (but also mad at himself because he can’t get rid of that stupid crush on the guy in black) and when he opens the door he simply rolls his eyes and says:
“What’s up, Lightwood? Are you here to make more fun of me and my ‘stupid priorities’?”
Last day of Malec Week 2015! I’m almost sad it’s over, but I’ll jump straight back into my queue of prompts tomorrow (or at the latest on monday 😉 ) Thanks to last week I found like a bunch of amazing blogs, really cool writers and artists.
The last day is Scene you’d like to see in the TV-show that isn’t in the book–Day. I have a lot of those actually, some I already wrote. I feel like I’d need to re-read the books and consider this a while, because I would have loved so many more Malec scenes. (Essentially, I would love any additional Malec scene. As in any at all.) So what I decided to do is give you little moments that I like to believe happened somewhere in-between the rest of the storyline… I might expand this in time. With a tiny bit melancholy: Here is my last Malec Week Entry. Enjoy!
—
Missing Scenes [?] (These seem all about comfort? So I guess I want more comfort?)
“Can I?” Magnus asks, an extended arm reaching for Alec who is standing entirely still in the middle of the entrance area of Magnus’s apartment. Where a moment ago he had been surrounded by his siblings, he stood on his own now and looked smaller than before. The warlock considered this very strange young man in his living space with a heart that was half-hope, half-despair and suddenly doubted his own decision trade Alec against his parabatai.
The feeling was not routed in self-doubt as Magnus wanted the nephilim here, enjoyed having Alec to himself. No, the warlock just feared that he had put Alec in a position right in this second which the nephilim might not apprechiate. Magnus thought that the other might jump and run at any sudden movement, if the tenseness in the line of his shoulders was any indication. (I’d tell you that I’d never hurt you, but it isn’t me that you fear, is it? It’s the rest of the world.)
It was the oddest thing, really, the way Alec seemed to tether between crowding him against a door and installing something like a safety distance between the two of them. (Because he’d done the former before, too. It was a situation with mixed signals.) Magnus was torn between screaming and laughing but did neither in the end because it hardly mattered how the nephilim behaved, his very treacherous heart had decided long ago that it was him and only him.
Alec blinked at his outstretched hand and Magnus took a leap of faith then because he stepped forward to embrace the nephilim in a slow and deliberate gesture (giving Alec all the time in the world to move away). But the nephilim melted and when Magnus made their foreheads touch, the other’s eyes slid close with a sign. There was a little frown on his face, one that the warlock knew was not about him at all this time. “They’re going to be just fine”, he told Alec and the corner of the nephilim’s lips twitched upwards for just a moment. Magnus began to see the inner workings of the mystery that was Alexander Lightwood.
***
They were both soaking wet and kneeling on the car’s roof, barely kept afloat by Magnus’s magic that was wavering in his hands and starting to dry out. The warlock felt the source of his power shying away from his reach as if in pain with overuse, he was tired and drained, but the only thing he felt for a second was relief when Alec looked at him with clear blue eyes. Not dead, not drowned. The emotion turned sour, then soft again and when the nephilim offered his hands Magnus was stunned.
“Alexander”, he whispered, feeling warmer than before by the sheer words of the nephilim. The other shuddered, entwined their hands by himself, but it was Magnus who pulled him in by the contact, pressing both of his hands against a place right over his own heart. With the knuckles of his free hand he touched Alec’s cheek, saw nothing like determination in his eyes then. (The warlock knew he was gone for good. This was it. A single word of Alexander Lightwood could bring all the joy or all the agony in the world.)
The blue glow between them was reflected in the nephilim’s eyes which lowered to their entwined hands, looking in wonder and curiosity. There wasn’t a bit of fear in them and Magnus wondered idly if their emotions had become mirrors and their attraction to each other something far more profound. But he couldn’t quite decipher all of the Lightwood boy yet.
While Magnus’s own fog of tiredness lifted, he felt Alec sag forward slightly and steadied him with an arm wrapped around his side, their legs shifting awkwardly around for another moment before settling in something that wasn’t quite comfort. “I have you”, Magnus said almost to himself. “Just rest, everything is going to be just fine.”
Alec surprised him again, when his voice was completely steady where his body seemed to fight against sleep: “I know.”
***
The first time Magnus took Alec to bed was something like a spurt of the moment, but accompanied by the nephilim’s repeated confirmation: “Yes. I want this. I promise I do. Yes, yes.” His shaking hands betrayed him, his stuttering breath. So, the warlock was determined to make this slow, to give Alec every out he could possibly need. (But it took quite some effort to uphold his new-found morals. Magnus moaned against Alec’s shoulder when they had finally stumbled down onto the sheets, trying very hard to clear his head and very nearly beyond any reason.)
When Magnus woke later, in the middle of the night, the other side of the bed was empty. His fuzzy mind took a moment to catch on, but there was some light illuminating a corner of the floor where the bathroom door stood ajar. The warlock found Alec leaning over the sink in the bathroom and grabbing the porcelain, very nearly hyperventilating.
“Shh”, he found himself hushing the other, turning him with gentle hands on his arms. Alec didn’t resist him at all, arching into the contact subconsciously. But his breathing remained harsh and irregular for another minute and every time he tried to take a breath to explain the words caught in his throat instead. “It’s okay. Shh. Just breathe.”
It broke the warlock’s heart she that look on his face, but he knew when Alec grabbed for him, wanting him close still what this wasn’t. He’d figured out Alec’s loyalities a while ago, understood how he only wanted to make his family proud and how he was so very scared of everything that their connection meant.
Something of the panic in the other’s eyes washed away, but it was still there. Magnus found himself promising something, he’d sworn himself he’d not promise, because it wasn’t fair to himself. It wasn’t fair to Alec either, even if the nephilim might not realize that right now, but with the sweet boy fraying so badly and trying so hard, Magnus felt he’d give him the world: “No one needs to know. Shh, it’s alright. We don’t need to tell anyone.”
***
After everything, the missing pieces between them seem to start falling into place, smoothing over the jarring edges that had made them break apart. Magnus was reminded of the breaking oak (because they’d always been strong, just the stubborn kind maybe) and the bending reed (he hoped that they could be that, that they’d learn and grow together).
Alec had found something, not in Magnus but in himself, that made him settle more easily into his body. Into Magnus’s apartment, moulding himself into the warlock’s side on the couch. (A thing that gave him confidence in his braveness, for the latter had been there all along.)
A gentle smile draw the nephilim’s lips apart when he leans up to kiss Magnus; he does it again and again, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep in his throat and it’s like music in the warlock’s ears. (It’s such a sappy though, Magnus is sure he’d whack himself if his hands weren’t around Alec’s waist.) He traces the bone just below the nephilim’s eye and wonders aloud without meaning to: “You look happy. It suits you.”
Alec’s smile doesn’t waver, if anything it expands when he tells him very simply “I am” and seals it with another kiss like one might a promise. “Are you?” he asks quietly against Magnus’s lips and there those insecurities shine below the brave heart that has finally taken flight. But that’s Alec and the warlock wouldn’t want it any other way. (If anything it makes him prouder of Alec.) He answers just as simply, finally out in the open and maybe with a bit of the fearlessness of the nephilim in his arms: “Yes.”
Connor smiles down at his sleeping boyfriend, with Oliver’s head pillowed on Connor’s chest. One arm wrapped around Oliver’s shoulders and the other popped under his head, Connor kisses the top of Oliver’s head and gives the hammock another push with his foot to keep them gently swaying.
“There’s even a hammock,” Oliver had said with bewilderment when Connor’d taken him on a tour of the Walsh lake house earlier in the week.
“Yeah. Why?” Connor asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hill to the lake where the rest of the family was gathered on the dock.
“Nothing. It’s just-” Oliver smiled. “This place really does have it all.”
Connor grinned at that. “We aim to please,” was all he’d said at the time but he vowed to get Oliver on that hammock before the week was out.
It had taken nearly that long but here they finally were. Spending the last of their lazy afternoons taking a nap on a hammock by the lake.
Settling in once more, Connor closes his eyes, getting ready to fall asleep too when a noise interrupts the calm. He lifts his head to watch his nephew come barreling down the hill.
“Hey Unca’ Connor!” Sam shouts. When he sees Connor lift a finger to his lips, Sam instantly slows down. “Sorry!” The whisper-yell carries but Oliver stays asleep as Sam picks his way down the rest of the hill.
The best advice Oliver ever received was from his mom: never trust a man with too much charm.
Red flags pop up into his head when Connor first shows up. He gives him a witty smile as he leans closer. Oliver can smell the cologne on him – probably the price of his nicest suit. When Connor’s eyes gaze over the room and he threatens to find someone else, Oliver jumps in despite his better judgement. There is something irresistible in the lilt of his voice and mischievous in his eye.
The first time Alec Lightwood saw Magnus Bane was in his first-year potions class. It wasn’t a case of Magnus drawing his eye the moment he walked in. At that time, at the age of eleven, Magnus could almost pass for utterly mundane. The only hint of his later flamboyance was his well-styled hair.
But, dressed in plain black school robes like everyone else, Magnus drew everyone’s eye. He was funny, outspoken, charismatic, and knew exactly what he wanted. And he didn’t care what anyone else thought.
Alec found the Slytherin a painful reminder of the fact that he was so very different. Shy, reserved, and nervous, Alec very much stayed to himself. He flushed practically every time anyone spoke to him, and couldn’t even begin to imagine making the snarky comments Magnus and his friends did.
For that first year, while Alec brooded over just why he’d been put in Hufflepuff, for god’s sake, when his entire family had been Gryffindors for as long as anyone could remember, the only person who could really get Alec to open up was mild-mannered, kind-hearted Jem Carstairs.
So in his second year, Alec began to open up. He watched his sister, Isabelle, and adopted brother, Jace, get sorted into Gryffindor. Though he felt a slight pang, he clapped along with everyone else.
But he’d never grinned so broadly as he did when Jace told him that he’d been picked for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Astounded, Alec had watched Jace play the brutal position of beater brilliantly, with all the strength and snark and speed of the fifth year he played with.
And, really, that was how it all started. Going out late to practise with Jace, playing constantly during the holidays, even convincing Jem and Isabelle to play with them, Alec found a strange, unexpected love for the sport.
The first time Alec Lightwood spoke to Magnus Bane was in his third year, after the Hufflepuff quidditch trials. By this time, Alec was just beginning to struggle with the realisation of his sexuality, whilst Magnus was out experimenting very openly.
Alec had just been told that he would play as a chaser. He’d stood, dumbfounded, by the side of the pitch, when the Slytherins began to leak out of the building for their own trials.
“You looked shocked, Lightwood,” was the first thing Magnus ever said to him, stood a few feet away, broom in one hand, a lazy smile on his face. “Don’t. I may actually have to focus to hit the bludger at you. You fly fast.”
Alec stared at Magnus. Magnus knew his name? Magnus had watched him? And Magnus was freaking talking to him about it?
Magnus quirked an eyebrow at him just a little. Alec averted his eyes. “Thanks,” he said. He’d seen Magnus play before. He was good. He wasn’t amazing, per se – Jace was far better, though they both employed the tact of snark and sarcasm to distract the other players – but he was good.
“Magnus!” Camille Belcourt, the Slytherin captain, barked. “If you want to keep your place on the team, stop chatting and get over here!”
Exchanging a few words with Magnus after games became an almost customary thing for Alec. As he grew into himself and his sexuality, as he found his pride for his house and for himself and for what he stood for, as he accepted who he was and his emotions and his dreams, his confidence grew.
Magnus, in comparison, changed outwardly. Alec was sure he’d never seen him in the same outfit twice, save his school uniform, and even Isabelle had commented on how tasteful the guy’s make-up was.
Alec didn’t realise how much he looked at Magnus, how much he liked Magnus, how attractive he found him, until he saw Magnus kissing some guy heatedly near the Whomping Willow at the beginning of their fifth year.
And that was how he found himself sitting in the Hufflepuff quidditch stands next to Jem in the freezing November rain, eyes determined to linger on a certain Slytherin than pay any attention to the rest of the game. Really, he should have been focusing on praying that Slytherin won, because Gryffindor needed to lose some points if Hufflepuff were to have any chance of winning the cup this year. And it was Alec’s final year. He’d be damned if they didn’t get the title.
“You know,” Jem said, not tearing his eyes away from the blurs of green and scarlet streaking across the pitch, “you’re really becoming quite pathetic.”
Alec turned to his to glare at him. “Thank you, James.”
Jem grinned a little. “Look at Jace. He decided he wanted Clary, so he asked her out.”
“She said no,” Alec pointed out.
“At first. But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“That if you like Magnus so much you should just ask him out.”
Alec huffed, and turned his attention back to the game.
Slytherin won the game by a very fine margin, thanks to a spectacular catch from their seeker. While Jace complained and ranted to Clary and Jem about how appalling the Gryffindor seeker was, Alec felt a presence behind him and warm breath stirring the still November air.
He turned around, trying to ignore the blush that Magnus always evoked. “Hi.”
Magnus smiled one of his gorgeous smiles. There was no way his hair could still be that perfect after a quidditch match unless he’d magicked it into those spikes. “Hello, Lightwood.”
“Well done,” Alec said after a moment’s silence. “We were rooting for you.”
“Tactical,” Magnus replied, grinning. “My dilemma is that I can’t decide whether I should be supporting Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff next match.”
Alec glanced at the score Slytherin had racked up during the game, and raised his eyebrows after doing the maths. “Ravenclaw. If we win we go to the top.”
“Exactly. But you fly for the other team.” Magnus dropped him a wink, and Alec’s cheeks heated up.
Alec was at once very aware of three things. One, that this was one of the longest conversations he’d ever had with Magnus—they usually exchanged brief congratulations or condolences or jokes and went their separate ways. Two, Magnus was standing so close that he could see each individual sparkle of glitter just accenting the edge of his eyelids. And three, Magnus had just insinuated that he wanted to support Hufflepuff, just because that was the team Alec played for.
He felt unsure as to where he stood with Magnus Bane. They didn’t talk away from the quidditch pitch, they called each other by their last names, and even when they had the same classes they didn’t exchange so much as hellos.
And yet, that sentence was either friendly or flirtatious. Alec wasn’t stupid. The glittery wink that had accompanied it seemed to rule out the first option.
Two years ago, Alec might have closed the conversation and run away, never to speak to Magnus again. But this would quite possibly be Alec’s only chance to see if anything could come of his unrequited-crush. He’d take it.
The only problem was that he had no idea what to say.
Magnus, though, spoke first. “Can I ask you a question?”
Alec nodded. “Of course.”
“Do you deliberately ignore me?”
Alec stared at him for a long few seconds, dumbfounded. Ignore Magnus Bane? Nobody ignored Magnus. He was loud and brash and outspoken and flamboyant and completely gorgeous. Alec knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
It took Alec a full minute to find his voice. “I don’t ignore you. I always talk to you after quidditch—”
Magnus waved a dismissive hand. “After quidditch matches, for thirty seconds. It doesn’t really count, Lightwood. You never talk to me off the pitch.”
“You never talk to me, either,” Alec retorted.
“I keep trying to catch your eye,” Magnus said, a slight edge to his voice. “All the time. At meals, in the corridors, in lessons…”
Alec didn’t know how to respond. Maybe he did ignore Magnus, inadvertently. He’d certainly never noticed Magnus trying to catch his eye from across the corridor. He just heard Magnus’ voice, calling out to his friends, laughing, joking, being himself.
“You always avoid looking at me.” Magnus’ voice softened.
Alec wanted to look away from those unique green eyes, which faded to gold around the pupil. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He kept looking at Magnus, heart aching at how close they were, and yet how much distance was between them.
“I’m sorry,” Alec said. “I didn’t mean to. I never meant to. But—” He bit his lip. He couldn’t say that.
“But?” Magnus promoted him. Alec noticed his grip on his broom handle tighten, turning the soft brown skin of his knuckles almost white.
“It’s easier to not look at someone at all,” Alec murmured, averting his eyes, “than to look once and not be able to look away. Especially when they don’t have any interest in looking back.”
He felt fingertips under his chin, encouraging him to glance back at Magnus. His breath caught at the gleaming, passionate look in the Slytherin’s eye.
“I think,” Magnus said in a low voice, breath washing across Alec’s face, “that we’ve just established that I do have an interest in looking back.”
And then Magnus’ lips were on his, soft and slow and tender, contrasting to the way Alec was grasping at his robes and Magnus had one hand fisting in the back of Alec’s sweater; Alec wondered how he could have spent so many years fantasising about this when it could have been reality.
When Magnus pulled away, he cupped his long fingers along Alec’s cheeks, a smile on his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured.
Alec smiled. “Trust me,” he said, “I do.”
Magnus ran his thumbs along Alec’s cheeks. “Your brother is staring at us.”
“You mean Jace?”
Magnus nodded.
“Ignore him.” Alec licked his lower lip. “Magnus—” He swallowed. He’d never called him that before. Sure, he always referred to him as Magnus, and he always thought of him as Magnus, but he’d never called him that to his face.
Magnus just smiled. “Yes, Alec?”
Alec swore his heart nearly burst right out of his chest when Magnus said his name like that. “I… Oh, never mind.”
They kissed again, standing at the side of the quidditch pitch, the smell of sweat and grass and some pleasant scent that Alec couldn’t place coming from Magnus. His lips tasted sweet, and were smooth against his. Alec could feel his own hands shaking, and he hoped that Magnus didn’t notice.
“Hogsmeade,” Magnus said when they broke apart for a second time. “There’s a Hogsmeade trip soon. Come with me?”
Alec looked at the Slytherin, barely able to believe what he was hearing. “Okay. I’d like that.”
Magnus smiled widely. He squeezed Alec’s hand, kissed his cheek, and murmured, “Don’t avoid me, Alexander,” before walking away, back into the castle, leaving Alec feeling as though his every wish had just come true.
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