Magnus has never felt this sort of connection so quickly, so suddenly. He knows Alec feels it too, recognizes it in his eyes when he looks at Magnus from across the room, can see it in the way he lowers his head to peer through his lashes, the way he’s so clearly savoring the view.

Magnus knows he’s giving the man a damn fine view, too.

(Not that Alec isn’t doing the same, entirely unintentionally as far as Magnus can tell. He’s just incidentally that attractive all on his own, which is both wonderful and terrible, and Magnus isn’t sure he’s ever wanted to just... pounce on anyone as much as he wants to ruin Alexander Lightwood.)

Alec’s lips are so damnably tempting, such a warm contrast to the cool pale tone of his skin, like rose petals in moonlight, and dear fucking hells, what is wrong with Magnus that he’s thinking something that ludicrous.

(The problem, of course, is that he doesn’t just want to kiss Alexander. He wants to kiss him, and then he wants to keep him, wants to tease him about cleaning when Magnus could use magic again, wants to see those large hands wrapped around a coffee mug in the morning as contrast to a martini glass at night, wants... wants, and he can hear the echo of it in Alec’s voice, can see it in the tension in his shoulders, and even if they can’t figure out how to make it something that could last, he just wants Alec to admit it. To himself, to Magnus, even if it never goes any further than that, never gets admitted to anyone beyond the two of them.)

He wants Alec to confide in him, he wants just one moment when they’re that them, instead of a him and a him, separated by the hands-breadth of air between them, by the centuries of Magnus’ life, by the twenty years’ of Nephilim superiority building a closet around Alexander.

He almost got it, is the thing, he saw it, the words rising up in Alec’s throat before he swallowed them back down, and Magnus doesn’t know where he stepped wrong, where he pushed too hard, where or when or how he scared them away from even the tentative progress they were making.

He knows this is as difficult for Alec as it is for him, knows Alec has made his choice anyway, has decided on duty and expectations over the risk of his heart, and he gets it, he does. He understands, even as he hates it.

So why can’t he stop trying, can’t stop asking, even when they both know the answer? He keeps telling himself he’s done, but then the ache builds in his chest and he can’t let it go.

He can’t let them go... even if they’ve never been a them. They could, they could, and wouldn’t that be something?

Wouldn’t that be everything?

WHAT, all of them?!? You’re the worst. (ILU)

☾ - sleep headcanon

well, this one’s easy, they’re all sleep deprived :D

Tomboy Countess Ksenia actually used to have a very good sleep schedule, she’d wear herself out every day and go to bed and sleep like a log and jump up to do it again the next day; the Summit is stressful enough she doesn’t sleep as well and definitely requires extra tea every morning as she moans her way upright. 

Princess Theodora of Arland is too well trained not to get up with the sun; she doesn’t manage a proper lie-in until her honeymoon, tbqh, when Lyon introduces her to sleeping in. (He also introduces her to morning sex, but that is an entirely different ask and answer.)

One of the most difficult parts of getting married, for Nathalie of Revaire, was getting used to sleeping alone after her husband went back to his own room for the night. (She was used to sharing with her siblings, to never ever being alone, and now, she almost always was entirely isolated, and in the middle of the night it was cold and too quiet and she became prone to restless nights and nightmares. 

“Captain” Maristela of Hise developed the sailor/soldier knack of falling asleep whenever and wherever she could, because sometimes you only have that half an hour before something goes wrong, so you better take it.

Lady Hanako of Jiyel is a night owl. She hates mornings. Nothing should ever happen before noon unless you stayed up all the way around to get to it from the night before. 

Alessandra of Corval hates letting her guard down (reasonably enough, considering) and sleeps terribly if she doesn’t have a locked door (with the only key next to her) between her and the rest of the world.

/the Summit is not restful, on several levels 

☆ - happy headcanon

They’re all very happy post-Summit! No angst-monsters here! 

Theodora and Lyon build book forts, Hana and Hamin travel, Alessandra plots, (and her husband stays out of her way; she doesn’t marry any of the known NPCs, but she and Woodly stay in touch for the rest of his life), Ksenia loves Skalt almost as much as Ana, and Maristela realizes she doesn’t have to be either her mother’s heir OR her father’s daughter, but that she’s always been both, and that’s ok. (She and Cordelia have a lot in common, even if manifested in very different ways; they’re close for the rest of their lives.) Nathalie steals all her siblings away from her parents after she’s married, (and then also has children of her own) and is DELIGHTED ON SEVERAL LEVELS by both these things. No longer supporting her parents is perhaps a petty joy, but she loves it nonetheless. 

 ☮ - friendship headcanon

I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT ALPHA SPOILERS

uh

They all adore Cordelia & Penelope because I like them too much not to be polite and nice even when I have to do some finagling to make it fit their characters *laughs*

BothIsGood.gif! [shipping meme] 

there’s something there about a pirate as a werewolf, recognized for being dangerous and not for being free, and how knowledge can be used to trap and find and control rather than uplift...

so uh, Hamin is a lovely beautiful werewolf and Hana is a surprisingly effective hunter for how waif-like she usually appears.

So apparently Jiyel is for Hunters? Lyon refuses to hunt people. Or things. Which he thinks are people even if no one else says so. He’s supposed to, obviously, but he won’t. 

And there is something very satisfying about a Princess who is only recognized for a certain sort of value, always being locked up and looked at and never trusted, that resonates with the best sort of werewolf myths.

Hamin would be very angry if we didn’t let him be the sailor, and Hana is delighted at the thought of being able to swim everywhere and anywhere with the flick of her own shimmery tail.

Lyon dislikes this question immensely and refuses to cooperate.

Theodora wants to be a mermaid because that means Constance might get to be a mermaid too, some day, and that is such a better future for her than where she is right now.

Hamin promises to be a very Nice Kitty and Never Interrupt while Hana is researching new spells.

(They both know he’s lying.)

Theodora isn’t even going to pretend, she will knock all Lyon’s books off all their shelves if he forgets to eat.

Again.

Hamin makes everything except coffee just to make Hana yell. It’s hilarious.

(He knows he’s gone too far when she pours iced berry tea over his head. Everything is red for forever.)

There is not enough coffee in the world to keep Lyon up for as long as he thinks he ought to be able to stay up.

Theodora really does try to pour that much though, just for him. :D

I’m sorry, Lyon is already the professor, obviously. (And both adorable and supportive about it. I wish I’d had a few teachers like him.) 

The other three are all TA’s, and are varying degrees of helpful and chaotic, depending on their moods. :D

Theodora never wants to be just a Princess ever again, and Hamin thinks Knights are deadly dull, so I think they’re going to run away and join the circus instead. (Hana is absolutely coming too.)

Lyon will begrudgingly agree to sit in the audience, but he quite enjoys supporting Theodora so no one quite falls for the grumpy face.

Oh no, any combination of them I’m tempted to think those poor children *laughs*

Lyon is a lovely teacher again though? I think he’d be patient with children in a way he refuses to be for adults who should know better. He is slightly better with the older kids who can engage in something more like a conversation though; Hana’s pretty great with the younger kids, she insists they all learn by playing as much as possible.

(I think I just made Hamin & Theodora both single parents? They put on brave faces for their kids, but they’re both very sad in the middle of the night when no one can see them. 😭)

Lyon is a very good editor. Hana & Theodora are both decent writers, Hamin refuses to take any suggestions ever about anything.

/but he also seldom writes, and prefers finding nice things and telling everyone else how brilliant his friends are for writing than doing it himself.

5: Would an authority be concerned about your current search history?

already answered

11: How many hours did you spend researching a type of shoe the other day, only to realise no one cares except you and maybe one other person?

but that one other person will really enjoy it!

I don’t actually get lost in the research spiral too often, I mostly write missing scenes and codas, those usually only require a tiny bit of research, like, how long a broken arm takes to heal usually, or dates for events I might want to reference. 

(I’m sure there’s a good exception to this, but I can’t think of anything in particular at the moment?)

13: Where is your favourite place to think up great plot ideas and then not write them down because you’re sure you’ll remember this time?

In the SHOWER

/I really should get some bath crayons, they’re fun :D

14: If you could take one word and publicly shame it for having inadequate synonyms, which would you choose?

can I be entirely NSFW and say it’s hard to write sex scenes when the only word you’ve got for female genitalia that isn’t clinical is deeply vulgar? Like. Cock and Dick and Cunt are not all on the same level in terms of how people will react to them or the tone they impart to the fic at all. 

Nathalie hadn’t slept the night before her wedding; she didn’t get much sleep the night after, either. Or really for the next fortnight, what with the whirlwind tour of Namaire combined with adjusting to her husband’s nightly expectations. 

She’d stayed up for days with sick siblings. She’d ridden in a cheap and rattling carriage overnight in order to present herself flawlessly to Court the next morning to repair the family’s reputation after her parents’ latest gaucherie.

Despite it all, she didn’t think she’d ever been this tired.

She’d thought she’d been prepared for the Summit. She’d thought she was prepared for her marriage, too. It was going better this time? Not that that was saying much. It was going a lot better? Still not a very high bar, but she’d take it.

She’d done everything she could, and now she just had to wait. Wait for visitors, wait for invitations, for answers, wait to see who was still willing to sit next to her come dinner-time.

She hated waiting.

She lifted her head at a knock at the door, and found herself smiling as Jasper ushered Clarmont inside, the line of her spine relaxing whether she’d willed it to or not. She lifted a hand and he bowed over it, shooting her a grin through his bangs. Her breath felt too warm in her chest, and she tugged him closer until he sat beside her. 

“Hello there.” She was smiling like a loon, entirely too honestly, and despite her best intentions she leaned in a little closer, her arm against his side. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Clarmont went very still when she brushed against him, but before she could pull back he’d looped an arm carefully behind her waist, just close enough to comfort without applying any pressure. Nathalie sighed, and let her head keep moving until it was resting against his shoulder. 

She could hear his breath catch in surprise, but he stayed still as she settled. 

“It’s been a long day.” His voice was soft, his words delicate and precise, just as carefully placed as his arm. 

“It’s been a long... everything.” He huffed out a breath in agreement, and his arm tightened into something that was almost an embrace. She closed her eyes to hold in something she was afraid might be tears. She swallowed, made sure to keep her voice steady. “Stay for awhile?”

“Of course.” 

She felt what was probably his cheek against the top of her head, followed the shift of his shoulders as he adjusted his position slightly, and managed not to think of anything at all as her breathing slowed and the knot between her shoulders faded away. 

“Sweet dreams, Nathalie.” 

She hummed, hoping he recognized the sound of her gratitude, and let herself rest.