#tw homophobia

rapeculturerealities:

Nicaragua cancels legal status of feminist groups | openDemocracy

Nicaragua outlaws feminist groups helping vulnerable women

President Daniel Ortega’s regime has outlawed 267 NGOs since 2018, including 40 women’s groups serving vulnerable groups, according to the Mesoamerican Women Human Rights Defenders Initiative. Many of them were affected by a 2020 law that forced any group receiving funds from international donors to register as a “foreign agent”.

La Corriente refused to register, arguing it was against their right of association and the Nicaraguan constitution.

“It is a policy of sweeping away any form of organisation that is not under state control. Even though we don’t have a partisan perspective, they have declared us a mortal political enemy,” Blandón said.

Since its founding in 1994, La Corriente has provided inclusive education for women and LGBTQ youth, and managed development projects. It is one of the leading voices denouncing violence against women and LGBTIQ people.

Blandón said: “Women’s groups, like other civil society organisations, do work that the state does not do, not because it is not its responsibility, but because it has not been part of its priorities.”

With their legal status revoked, La Corriente and other groups were no longer eligible for international funding, so had to shut down operations.

The prospects for women and the LGBTIQ community are bleak without these groups working on their behalf. There is no legal protection for LGBTIQ people in Nicaragua, and sexism and homophobia are widespread. In the first four months of this year, the country has reported 22 femicides (there were 71 in 2021).

My parents think that the fact that I’m “no longer homosexual” is proof that being LGBTQ+ is just a fad and that people can change.

I’m still very much queer, I’ve just withdrawn from them and I’m only myself online. They think that cutting your child off from anyone supportive in their life, forcing them to do and wear things they hate, and forcing them to pray to change works. It doesn’t.

You can’t change who someone is - you can only hurt them and force them to spend this whole life hiding from you.

Love your kids for who they are.

Selfcare is not reading the comments under news articles about pride parades. Alas, I am Boo Boo the goddamn Fool.

Anyway: if your acceptance of LGBTQIA+ people depends on whether or not you are allowed to be racist towards other minorities instead, please feel free to:

- step on a lego
- scald your tongue on your coffee
- get an itch where your arms can not reach

Or maybe go off-grid like some of y’all so proudly proclaim “you were made for” and make society a better place by your absence. 

N — Natural [Shadowhunters Ace ABC]

Malec | Rated general | tw internalized & external aphobia and homophobia | Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alec Lightwood-centric, Developing Relationship, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, jace is a bit of an asshole at one point but he gets better, Asexual Character, Asexual Alec Lightwood, Gay Alec Lightwood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, character growth!, learning to accept yourself!, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Supportive Magnus Bane, Writer Alec Lightwood | Bingo Square: Forehead Kiss

Summary:

“It’s just unnatural,” Maryse said, shaking her head. “Everybody wants to have sex.”

“Well, not me,” Alec replied, nails digging into his palms to suppress an instinctive flinch at her words.

Or, Alec is ace and gay, Maryse is evil, Alec meets a certain Magnus Bane, and the road to self-acceptance is long and hard — but it’s a bit easier when you have friends and family to support you. (Ft. pining idiots and Alec writing books.)

A/N: The letter ‘N’ for the Shadowhunters Ace ABC, an event from the Shadowhunters Ace Mini Bang Discord.

This work was created for the Shadowhunters Pride Bingo presented by the Malec Discord Server.@malecdiscordserver

Many thanks to @hopesilverheart for beta'ing this for me!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

“It’s just unnatural,” Maryse said, shaking her head. “Everybody wants to have sex.”

“Well, not me,” Alec replied, nails digging into his palms to suppress an instinctive flinch at her words. “I don’t want to do any of that.”

“Alexander.” She sighed, levelling him with a disappointed look that would’ve had him flinching away if he hadn’t kept himself viciously still. “Think about the family — what will people say about us if you don’t get married?”

“I never said I wouldn’t get married, just that I don’t want to have sex,” Alec huffed. He still wouldn’t marry anyone Maryse approved of — his, ah, preferences ruled them all out — but he still dreamed, sometimes, about a man with a kind smile who’d stand at an altar with him and hold him close. Marriage wasn’t the problem; it was just — sex. 

“Sex is essential to marriage,” Maryse said, sounding scandalised. “How to you expect to consummate your relationship if—”

Alec cut her off, pushing down the guilt and self-hatred and shrinking, desperate pain that her tone caused. “Marriage doesn’t require sex to be meaningful.”

“Of course it does.” She shook her head, hands pressing to her temples. “Think about our family, Alec. It’ll reflect badly on all of us if you act abnormally.”

“I’m not being stubborn, Mother,” Alec said quietly. “I didn’t choose to be like this. If I could, I’d rather be normal, but I can’t.”

Maryse curled a derisive lip. “You could if you tried. You just need to actually do it, it’ll be far less daunting.”

Alec opened his mouth to reply, to protest, but she cut him off before he could speak. “I don’t want to hear any more about this. Go finish that social studies assignment.”

He left in silence. It wasn’t like he’d expected her to be perfectly okay with it — he knew well that she’d kick him out in a heartbeat if she knew he was gay — but for some ridiculous reason, he’d hoped that maybe she’d… try. Or at least not dismiss it all as unnatural and wrong.  

Really, though, he should’ve known — the Lightwoods were the perfect nuclear family, regardless of his parents’ secret estrangement and their children’s general dislike of the family law firm. If his parents had their way, Alec, Izzy, Jace, and Max would all grow up and join the firm, get married, and have as many babies as possible to continue the line. Asexuality did not fit into that. 

There was a creeping sense of guilt in his stomach, like he should’ve been better, should’ve been willing to swallow his distaste and be normal. Whatever was broken in him that he felt revulsion rather than attraction at the thought of sex, he shouldn’t let that rule his life — he should get over it. But how could he, when the mere thought of it had discomfort crawling up his spine?

Bad enough that he was gay, that he liked the wrong gender. Perhaps if he pretended hard enough, he could convince himself that he was what he was supposed to be. 

~

It didn’t work out like that, of course. Alec’s last year of high school passed in a blur of self-hatred and shame and failed attempts to convince himself that he was in love with Lydia Branwell; Maryse seemed pleased that he was doing his part, but he couldn’t work past the disgust that rose in his throat. Lydia was nice, kind, hard-working, pretty — why couldn’t he love her like he was supposed to? Why did he flinch instinctively away from the thought of having sex with her?

In some ways, leaving for university was a relief. He shared a dorm room with a rather annoying homophobic dick named Sebastian, but at least he didn’t have Maryse constantly peering over his shoulder and pushing him to work harder, work longer, never have fun — not that he was exactly going out to parties every night now that he was on his own, but it was nice to know that he could.  

He majored in English, with enough political science and law courses to set him up for law school but also with a creative writing course or two that he kept quiet about, because it didn’t matter that he’d long dreamt of becoming an author — he was a Lightwood, and Lightwoods were lawyers. His writing was nothing more than a hobby, a pastime that would be dropped when he no longer had enough time for it. 

The problem, though, was that he loved those creative writing courses — they were the highlight of his week (and not only because of the gorgeous guy who sat next to him with his shirt half-unbuttoned and makeup carefully applied around his eyes). The writing was just interesting, in a way that law wasn’t. 

(The gorgeous guy definitely helped, though.)

He met Underhill in one of the law courses, and Underhill flirted with him but stopped when Alec told him that he wasn’t out, would never really be out. He was still a friend, though, which was nice; Alec hadn’t really had his own friends in high school, only clung on to the outskirts of Izzy’s and Jace’s friend group. Underhill seemed to like him for him.

And Underhill was out. Not blatantly — not like Alec’s gorgeous neighbour in Creative Writing, who came to school with a shirt reading “I like my men how I like my women” in the colours of the bisexual flag, and that confidence was excessively attractive but Alec was resolutely not paying attention to it — but all of Underhill’s friends knew he was gay and didn’t care. His parents knew and didn’t care. He didn’t get a creeping guilty unnatural broken-glass feeling in his stomach when he thought about all the ways he was different.  

Alec — Alec wanted that. He wanted to be able to ask a guy out on a date (never mind that it’d never go anywhere when Alec said he didn’t like sex; that was a different problem), he wanted his parents to know who he was and not hate him for it, he didn’t want to spend his life wishing that he’d been born another way. 

So, when a guy named Raj asked him out, he said yes. He needed to swallow down the instinctive jerk of internalised homophobia at the thought of being out in public with a man, and the date didn’t go anywhere — by common consent, they decided there wasn’t enough chemistry between them — but Alec was glad he’d done it. He’d gone on a date with a guy. He’d been out, if only for a while, if only in one restaurant. 

But then, somehow, Sebastian — his homophobic roommate — found out about it and determined to make Alec’s life a living hell. At first it was nothing that Alec could report — a wet toilet seat and no toilet paper, something rotting in the corner of his room that was driving him insane with the smell of it before he found it, a few tears in his clothing that he hadn’t seen before — but one day Alec woke up with all of his clothes gone and a slur scrawled in Sharpie on his door. He showed up late to Creative Writing in the undershirt he’d worn to bed and a pair of jeans he’d been able to salvage to make shorts (it was freezing outside, a November cold snap, but it could’ve been worse; never before had he been so thankful that he didn’t sleep naked). The gorgeous guy sitting next to him had blinked in surprise and asked what had happened in a gentle murmur soft enough that the professor at the front of the room couldn’t hear, and to his surprise, Alec found himself telling the whole story — including that he was gay. 

The guy — Magnus, he introduced himself as — looked horrified at Sebastian’s behaviour and offered Alec his own jacket, which was blissfully warm against his skin. Magnus also suggested that Alec tell somebody about what Sebastian was doing, helped him deal with the university’s bureaucracy enough to file a harassment complaint, and even let Alec stay at Magnus’ own place in the meantime since his roommate was spending most of his time at his partners’ place — and suddenly Magnus wasn’t just a pretty face in Creative Writing, but a friend with a warm heart and a well of compassion that Alec probably didn’t deserve but was grateful for anyway. 

And, because of course, a growing crush. Alec hadn’t had many crushes as a child, but there’d been his temporary infatuation with Jace, and at least by that metric, what he felt for Magnus was much more. Magnus was beautiful — that was the first thing Alec had noticed about him — but he was also unfailingly kind, as the help he’d given Alec showed. He let Alec stay in his dorm while the campus investigation into Sebastian went on; he went shopping with Alec in the thrift stores Alec’s budget allowed for (because Maryse was stingy with pocket money and Alec hadn’t planned to lose all his clothing in the middle of winter); he became a studying partner, a roommate (if only temporarily), a friend. How was Alec supposed to not fall for him?

Not that he was in love with him or anything — it was far, far too soon for that, and bisexual or not, there was no reason for Magnus to be interested in Alec, and anyway there was no way he’d stick around once he knew Alec was ace — but there was something there, and Alec hoped almost desperately that he’d keep talking to Alec once Alec went back to his own place. He still sometimes felt that horrible guilt at the thought that he was gay, but Magnus was so brilliantly sure of himself and his sexuality that somehow, impossibly, he was drowning out the shame with his own light. 

Magnus’ half of the dorm was bright, his walls decorated with several pride flags, polaroid photos of various friends, a few surprisingly tasteful posters. Alec’s was, by necessity, much simpler — Magnus’ roommate had clearly all but moved out, and Alec didn’t want to bring over a ton of stuff that infringed on Magnus’ space. Or his sense of style, which was clearly superior to Alec’s. But also, Alec didn’t really have that much stuff, period — clothes, although he didn’t have many thanks to Sebastian’s interference; a few photographs of his siblings, which he left in a box. This was only temporary, after all, no matter how much Alec enjoyed Magnus’ company. 

Eventually, the inquest was over, with repercussions for Sebastian (not enough, in Magnus’ opinion, but Alec wasn’t too concerned; he wouldn’t go after Alec again), and then began the search for a new dorm room for Alec. Unfortunately, there was a scarcity of dorms for various reasons that a harried-looking secretary explained to him in a rather jumbled mess, and in the end, they told Alec that they wouldn’t have another room for him until after Christmas, when the semester was over and a general reorganising would fit him in somewhere. 

Magnus didn’t even wait for Alec to finish explaining the situation before informing Alec that he would be staying with him as long as he needed to. That was a relief, although Alec did insist that he pay half of the rent for the time that he was staying there — which meant that Alec needed to get a job, and of course Magnus promptly offered to help him find one. He ended up working in the coffee shop where Magnus himself, along with his friends and former roommate, all worked; it was owned by a history major named Ragnor who scowled at Alec but hired him on Magnus’ recommendation. The pay was enough for the rent and for the remaining bits of clothing that he’d skimped on due to a scarcity of money, and for once in his life, Alec felt a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Exams were upon them soon enough, and Alec lost himself in the blur of studying. Magnus was double majoring in English and Physics, so they’d study together for their shared English courses and then split off so that Magnus could drown in equations and Alec in Latin phrases and legalities. Magnus was brilliant, easily keeping up with both majors despite the impossible tangle of physics; he reminded Alec of Izzy in some ways, with her budding career as a forensic pathologist and an understanding of biology that he could never match. 

He decided to stay for Christmas — he really didn’t want to spend the holidays with his mother in icy silence. Magnus wasn’t going home for Christmas either (Alec didn’t ask why not, and Magnus returned the favour), nor were many of his friends. 

So Christmas arrived in a blur of good humour following the end of the exams and a party or two which Alec went to thanks to Magnus’ puppy-dog eyes and enjoyed more than he’d expected. Somehow, he’d ended up incorporated into Magnus’ group of friends — Catarina, who aimed for a med degree and was volunteering at a local hospital in the meantime; Raphael, who worked at the coffee shop and greeted Magnus with sarcasm though he obviously cared for him; and Tessa, Jem, and Will (the latter being Magnus’ former roommate), who were at the coffee shop as well and were all dating each other quite happily. Those three had been… confusing, at first; it’d taken Alec a bit to figure out that they were all dating each other, and then a bit more to work out that while he knew his mother would consider them as unnatural as Alec, he himself was aware that they weren’t — they’d found love for themselves together, and that was the most important thing. 

In the back of Alec’s mind was the nagging knowledge that he’d get moved to his new dorm after Christmas — on paper, Magnus still shared his dorm with Will, and he probably wouldn’t be willing to keep Alec on once there was no longer any need for it. The only reason he’d let Alec stay so long was because he’d taken pity on him; unlike Alec, Magnus definitely wouldn’t be wishing Alec didn’t have to go back. It’d be nice for him to have his own space back; Alec’s melancholy had no place here, and he did his best to swallow it down. 

Strangely, Magnus also seemed… sad, despite the general Christmas spirit. Alec wasn’t sure what to say to cheer him up — or if he should say anything; would Magnus want him to speak up? Would it be invasive? Bothering him? Were they close enough friends for Alec to bring it up?

Before Alec could quite make up his mind, however, Christmas was over in a blur of spiked eggnog and laughter and far more joy than any of the stiff, official family celebrations he’d had at home. Magnus’ friends were rather chaotic — even Ragnor, though he huffed and pretended to be dignified; especially Will, who had no such pretensions — but it was fun, and Alec really, really hoped it would keep happening, even after he moved back out. 

Halfway through Boxing Day, Alec made up his mind to corner Magnus and ask what was upsetting him — the cornering aspect of which was made much easier when Magnus sat down next to him with a huff. 

“You know,” he said slowly, “Will’s officially moving in with Jem and Tessa.”

Alec raised his head from the book he’d been reading — for fun; it was surprisingly good, and he’d quickly found himself engrossed — to look at him. There was a sudden hope growing in his throat. “Is he?”

“Yes.” Magnus shifted slightly. “And, well, that’ll leave me alone, so I’ll probably be assigned another roommate.”

The hope dropped away immediately. Magnus probably wanted Alec to get his stuff together, prepare to move out, so it wouldn’t be awkward for his new roommate— 

“But I don’t really want a new roommate,” Magnus went on, fingers twisting in his lap, oblivious to Alec’s emotional rollercoaster. “I mean, there’s a pretty good chance that they’ll be a homophobic asshole, which I’d like to avoid if at all possible, and there are some pretty weird people who I’d like to avoid, so if you want to, you could… stay?”

“I’d like that,” Alec said, grinning at him. He’d been dreading having to move out, and now, like magic, he didn’t have to. “Like you said — I don’t want to end up with another Sebastian, either.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Magnus said, sitting up sharply and clapping his hands together in an overdramatic gesture which Alec only found endearing. “You should unpack that box that’s been sitting in the corner, we can put through the paperwork later.”

In the business of the next few days, Magnus’ obscure sadness faded away, and Alec never did ask him about it. 

~

“—and honestly, Alexander, my Physics professor’s ties almost never match his shirt, he should just go without, in my opinion—”

Alec interrupted Magnus’ rambling with a thought that’d been spinning around his head for far too long. “You know, nobody else calls me that.”

Magnus blinked at him, pausing for a moment as he processed what Alec had said. “Alexander? Do you — not like it? Should I stop?”

“No, no,” Alec said hurriedly, because he definitely did not want Magnus to stop. “I don’t — I don’t usually like it when people call me that, but I like it when you do.”

A moment, Magnus blinking at him with his head tilted sideways and a grin climbing up his face. “In that case, Alexander…”

~

Suddenly, Alec had friends — proper friends, who cared about him and teased him and weren’t, you know, his siblings. Cat was usually the calm one, the “mom friend” who took care of the rest, but she had an instinct for chaos nearly as unerring as Magnus’; Will was probably worse, and Tessa and Jem generally went along with whatever harebrained scheme he came up with; Raphael and Ragnor were both sarcastic, caustic, and very good at pretending they didn’t like people, but both had a soft heart underneath. And Underhill, Alec’s first friend, had somehow joined them — bringing with him his boyfriend, Lorenzo Rey, apparently Magnus’ sworn enemy. (He wasn’t totally clear on everyone’s sexualities, but he was fairly certain that they were all some flavour of queer, and that was — well, breathtaking. With them, he couldn’t possibly hate himself for being gay, because that meant hating them.)

And, of course, there was Magnus. He was unquestionably Alec’s best friend, chaotic and occasionally insane and nearly as high-maintenance as Jace, and Alec loved it. 

He determined not to let his stupid feelings get in the way of their friendship, especially not when a relationship could never work out between them — and he was doing pretty well with that, until, in mid-February, Alec came to a terrifying (and also rather obvious, in hindsight) conclusion: he was in love with Magnus. 

With a man. Not a crush, not a temporary infatuation, but love.  

And he still didn’t want to have sex with him. 

Some deeply-buried part of Alec had been hoping that if he did fall in love, he might finally experience the attraction that he’d been missing out on. That maybe, falling in love could — could fix him, could repair what was broken, what was unnatural. That he just needed to find the right person, and then his asexuality would just — go away. Vanish in the night. 

But that hadn’t happened, and Alec was left with a guilty shameful knot in his stomach. Magnus was beautiful — he couldn’t deny that — and Alec should have been at least attracted to him, right? How could he be in love, if he didn’t want to do anything more than kiss Magnus?

Intellectually, he knew that there was nothing to be ashamed of in being gay — he was a man who liked men; so what? Magnus liked men, and there was definitely nothing wrong with him, so by logical, deductive reasoning, there was nothing wrong with Alec, either. Sometimes it didn’t feel that way — sometimes he had to fight against his mother’s voice in his ear, whispering unnatural wrong perverted — but he was getting better.  

Being ace, on the other hand — well. Maryse was right about it, wasn’t she? Wasn’t there something genuinely wrong with not wanting to have sex? Wasn’t he, really, just as unnatural as she said he was? 

Being gay was simply liking a different gender. Being ace was not liking any gender — at least not for sex — and somehow, that felt far worse. 

So: Alec was in love with Magnus, and while he was (mostly) fine with that, he was decidedly not fine with the fact that he wasn’t attracted to Magnus. Even though he was in love with him. Something in Alec was broken. 

(There was also the issue of, you know, unrequited love, because Magnus would definitely not look twice at somebody like Alec even if he weren’t ace, even if he were normal, and Alec was decidedly abnormal. Unnatural. The words bounced around his head like ping-pong balls except they hurt.)

He was on his bed, breathing coming faster than it should, his heart rabbiting away. Broken, unnatural, wrong, wrong, wrong — he could recognise the signs of an oncoming panic attack, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, only hope that Magnus didn’t walk in on him. 

It’s just unnatural, his mother’s voice whispered. Everyone wants to have sex. 

You just haven’t met the right person yet, he’d heard other people say, poisonous insinuations that he was delusional, mistaken, wrong, wrong wrong wrong—

Unnatural. Broken. Distorted. Misshapen. Wrong. Fractured, ready to shatter like glass, like the sharp shards that lodged in his throat. 

A voice, one he recognised, saying something, but from too far away. He felt like he’d been shoved out of his skin, like he was trapped somewhere deep inside with whispers that confirmed everything that he already knew—

Lips, on his forehead. Gentle. Hands on his arms, the voice murmuring again, and Alec caught hold of the sound that was so unlike the whispers. “It’s alright, Alexander. It’s okay. You’re okay. Deep breath for me, now.”

Alec obeyed, letting the air rush into his lungs and pull him back to himself. The feeling helped drown out the whispers in his mind — a little, at least. Enough to think around them. “Magnus.”

“Yes, it’s me.” Magnus pressed another kiss to his forehead, still almost unbearably gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Been better, but I’m fine,” Alec said, opening his eyes to meet Magnus’ gaze. There was kindness, gentleness, something almost tender, in it; Alec didn’t have the strength of mind to decode it right now. “I — I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to apologise for, darling.” Magnus smiled at him, still gentle. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Alec hesitated. Talking about it meant telling Magnus he was ace, and it meant, well, talking about it, which he wasn’t sure he wanted to do. 

But strangely, he found himself speaking. He trusted Magnus, irredeemably — he loved him, too, attraction or not — and the words spilled out almost without his volition. “I’m asexual. And I — I don’t — I’m not supposed to feel this way. I’m broken.”  

Magnus inhaled sharply, but before Alec could even begin to fear he’d turn away, he was shifting even closer with an arm curling around Alec’s shoulders. “Being ace doesn’t make you broken, Alexander.”

“Doesn’t it?” Alec shook his head, though his fingers found themselves tangled with Magnus’. “My mother, she called it unnatural. ‘Everyone wants to have sex’ — except me.”

“You’re not broken, and you’re not the only one who feels that way, darling,” Magnus insisted. Despite the circumstances, Alec noted the nickname and, blushing slightly, nearly missed what Magnus said next: “Raphael’s aroace, Ragnor’s asexual like you, and Catarina’s aromantic.”

“I — didn’t know that,” Alec said slowly. It made sense — he’d never seen any of them show particular interest in anyone, though it’d only been two and a half months that they’d known each other. More importantly, though, it was making his head spin because it was rearranging all his assumptions: neither Raphael nor Ragnor nor Cat was unnatural, not like he was, not like Maryse whispered in his ear. And if there was nothing wrong with them being ace — well, was there anything wrong with Alec?

“You’re not broken,” Magnus murmured again, still softly, still impossibly gently. He pulled Alec closer and Alec wrapped his arms around him to hug him back. 

~

It wasn’t that easy, of course. Some days, logic be damned, Maryse’s voice whispered unnatural until Alec couldn’t breathe around the weight of it; some days, he’d find himself wishing desperately that he’d been born a different way, any other way, any way that didn’t make him feel like he was wrong.  

But here’s the crucial bit: it got better. Magnus helped, and Ragnor who’d been willing to sit down with Alec and talk to him about it, and just knowing Raphael and Cat helped too — and slowly, those bad days got farther and farther apart. 

When summer came, Alec arrived almost reluctantly at the Lightwood mansion. (And a mansion it was — large and cold, dark passages in twisting patterns that Alec knew well, a butler and a cook and two maids living in the servant’s wing. Alec disliked being inside; Maryse had sighed, when he was younger, at his apparent dislike of doing his homework, but it was the cold dark inside that chased him out. He’d never shied away from hard work.) 

He missed his siblings, despite all the phone conversations and occasional visits they’d held throughout the year, but he decidedly did not miss Maryse’s disapproving stare or Robert’s coolly uncaring absence, or the dark cold damp that seemed to reside in every corner of the big old house. 

Maryse quizzed him on his studies, his GPA, his coursework, and — unexpectedly — his love life; when he admitted that no, he wasn’t dating anyone, her lips compressed into a white line and he understood that she’d hoped he’d “gotten over” his asexuality. 

Izzy and Jace, both regularly berated for too much of a love life — at least, they had been a year ago, and Alec doubted that anything had changed on that front — watched the exchange in surprise. Izzy had almost certainly guessed that Alec was gay, but never that he was ace; Jace was completely clueless. 

For the first time, Alec thought about telling them — about coming out, properly. Not just the half-worried, half-pitying looks that Izzy sometimes sent him, both knowing that the other knew but neither acknowledging it aloud, but coming out and saying hey, I’m gay.  

(Not that he was ace — not yet, not when unnatural might come to their lips as easily as it did to Maryse’s, not before he knew what they thought of him. Someday, though, perhaps he’d be able to say all the words he wasn’t yet ready for. Someday.)

But they wouldn’t judge him for being gay. Maryse would kick him out if she knew, yes — and Alec couldn’t afford that yet, not when he had nowhere near enough money to get into law school without her — but Izzy had been quietly supportive all these years and Jace was an asshole about most things, but not this. 

Decision made, Alec didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary. He knew perfectly well that Izzy and Jace would come piling into his room that night — they always did, when one of them was newly back from a trip or they were in need of comfort that Maryse and Robert would never provide — and sure enough, the door swung quietly open barely fifteen minutes after Alec had gotten into bed. 

The quiet stopped there, though. Walls were thick in the Lightwood mansion — thick enough that Alec couldn’t hear his parents arguing unless he was going downstairs at night for a glass of water — and with the door shut, they didn’t really need to worry about Maryse and Robert hearing. Izzy squealed loudly and threw herself into Alec’s waiting arms, with Jace not far behind. 

“We missed you,” Izzy mumbled, and Jace nodded. 

“I missed you too,” Alec replied softly. 

“But apparently not enough to come back for Christmas,” she returned, huffing, though fondly enough for him to know she wasn’t really offended. 

“Maryse,” he said in explanation. There was no need to elaborate; they both knew what he was talking about. 

Izzy nodded, shifting so that she was stretched out on the side of the bed opposite Alec with Jace sitting up between the two of them. “That’s fair. She’s always breathing down our backs.”

“It was particularly tense this year,” Jace added with a sigh. “Maryse and Robert are fighting again.”

“You say that like they ever stopped,” Izzy said, huffing. 

Alec shook his head. “They’re clinging to the semblance of normality for Max’s sake, but honestly I think he’d be better off if they weren’t constantly sniping at each other over his head.”

Izzy hummed agreement, and then there was a moment of companionable silence. 

Alec gathered his courage, hesitated, and then spoke up. “There’s something I want to tell you guys.”

Perhaps tipped off by the seriousness in his voice, Izzy turned on her side to face him properly and Jace looked down, frowning slightly. Both of them fixed their eyes on him, and Alec felt his nervousness mounting. 

He swallowed around his suddenly dry throat. “I — I’m gay.”

A moment of stillness, probably only about half a second in length but still enough for Alec to panic because what if I’m wrong, what if they hate me, what if they react badly—  

—and then Izzy threw her arms around him and Jace hugged him, too, and the worries ebbed away. He let himself sink into their embrace, their warmth and love chasing away the whispers in his mind. Maybe Maryse would kick him out for this, maybe even Robert, but Izzy and Jace wouldn’t, and that was everything. 

“I’m proud of you, big brother,” Izzy said at last, leaning back to speak. “College has been good for you.” 

Magnus has been good for me, Alec thought, but didn’t say anything, letting his eyes flicker over to Jace. He’d already known she’d be supportive; Jace, on the other hand… 

“I’d be pissed you didn’t tell me before, but I get it,” Jace told him quietly. “And — a lot of things make a lot more sense now.” 

Alec arched an eyebrow at him, and Jace went on. “You know, the way you and Lydia obviously cared about each other but had, like, zero chemistry, or all the times you laughed at me because of some stupid stunt I pulled for a girl—”

“I think that’s more you being an idiot than me being gay,” Alec shot back with a huff, but the last of his tension was bleeding out of his shoulders. 

“Enough of that,” Izzy interrupted. “I know you told Mom you’re not, but are you seeing somebody?” 

Alec tried to say no, but his blush gave him away, and she squealed again. “You are!”

“We’re not dating,” Alec mumbled, a blush still staining his cheeks. “He’s — well, we’re roommates, have been ever since—” and the whole story of Sebastian came spilling out, along with probably too many gratuitous details on Magnus. 

“I like him,” Izzy declared once he was done. “Also, you need to point Sebastian out to me so I can punch him.”

“I’m not going to help you get in trouble,” Alec said sternly, leaning back. “I’m sure you’ll do plenty of that on your own, but—”

“No changing the subject,” she interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “How come you haven’t asked Magnus out yet?”

“Because he doesn’t like me that way,” Alec replied quietly. He knows I’m ace, after all. Why on earth would he like me knowing that? 

“Then he’s an idiot,” Jace broke in. “Seriously, Alec, you’re a catch!” 

Alec swallowed around the asexuality-sized lump in his throat and rolled his eyes, feigning unconcerned ease. “He’s just not into me, Jace. It’s not a big deal.”

Something in his voice must’ve told them that he didn’t want to talk about it, because they — thankfully — let the matter drop, and the night whispered away in quiet conversations and unquestioning support. 

~

Summer passed in a mix of tense silence and laughter — an odd combination, but being home was a mixed bag for Alec. Maryse was always hovering, looking at him disapprovingly, obviously hoping he’d give in and say he wasn’t ace — highly unpleasant, but on the other hand, Alec had missed Izzy and Jace and Max and he loved spending time with them. 

Alec was surprised only by his own unsurprise at how much he missed Magnus. For months, Magnus had been his best friend, his roommate, the person he talked to the most — and suddenly they were only talking over the phone. And they talked a lot; Alec had half-expected their friendship to fall by the wayside once they weren’t in constant contact, but instead, Alec had found himself texting Magnus as much as possible, feeling a surge of excitement whenever his phone chimed with Magnus’ text tone. 

Izzy and Jace teased him mercilessly over it, though they stopped short of anything truly cruel. Maryse didn’t notice, which was a mixed blessing — she would’ve pried and insisted again that Alec wasn’t ace, but on the other hand, she hadn’t even noticed something that Izzy and Jace said was blindingly obvious. Even Max noticed — but not Maryse. (Nor did Robert, but Alec had grown used to a father who was only really present while arguing with Maryse many, many years ago.)

But at least neither Izzy nor Jace changed in their behaviour toward him since he came out. He’d been terrified of that — terrified that one or both of them would pull away, that Jace would become uncomfortable if he was left in the same room as Alec, that Izzy would look at him with unbearable pity. 

They didn’t. Didn’t flinch, didn’t falter, and Alec began to wonder if perhaps, perhaps, they’d treat him the same way if he knew he was ace. It was different, of course — everyone knew what being gay meant, and it was steadily becoming more unacceptable to be discriminatory against it, but Alec wasn’t sure if Jace had even heard of asexuality. And if he had, what would he think of it? 

Somehow, though, he found the words spilling past his lips. It was just the three of them, Izzy lying flat on the grass with Jace and Alec sitting beside her — the lawns and gardens on the Lightwood grounds were Alec’s favourite part of the place, and he spent as much time out here as possible. Silence had reigned since a brief wrestling match over who got the spot in the sun, which had ended in victory for Izzy. 

He didn’t try to build up to it, mostly because he feared he’d end up bungling it or losing his nerve. “I’m asexual.”

Izzy pushed herself up to meet his eyes; Jace was obviously confused, so Alec elaborated. “I don’t — I don’t want to have sex. I want to — to be in a relationship, with a man, but I don’t want to have sex.” 

Jace was still blinking at him, obviously caught unawares by the subject change. Alec had no idea what was going through his head; shock had masked anything else. Izzy was looking at him with wide eyes, also surprised, and Alec glanced away so he wouldn’t have to watch in terror whatever emotions they were feeling develop in their eyes. Would they, like Maryse, look at him with horror? Would they find him as disgusting, as broken, as unnatural, as he found himself? Or—

“I love you, hermano,” Izzy said, and Alec’s head shot up to take in the warm understanding in her eyes. “Ace or allo.”

But Jace was still frowning, and Alec knew that he, at least, hadn’t known what asexuality meant until now. Alec braced himself, but Jace’s next words still made him flinch away: “But how do you know you’re gay if you don’t want to have sex with anyone?”

Izzy spared Alec having to reply to that by punching Jace hard enough to make him yelp. “Love is about more than just sex, idiot.”

Jace shrugged. “Sure — I mean, I love you guys, right? — but what’s the difference between a platonic relationship and a romantic one without sex?”

Alec couldn’t suppress a second flinch. He wasn’t — he didn’t know the answer to Jace’s question, not really; he knew he wanted to kiss boys (specifically Magnus, his subconscious murmured) but not girls, but that didn’t seem like enough for a proper romantic relationship; shouldn’t he want to have sex? Wasn’t it unnatural, for him to dislike sex—

He only realised he’d said some of that aloud when Izzy made an irritated noise, punched Jace again and told him to get out before turning to Alec. “It’s not unnatural, Alec. Being ace is as natural as anything else. It’s part of who you are, and it’s definitely not wrong.”

“But Jace—” he began, but she interrupted. 

“Jace is a dumbass who says the first thing to come into his head without thinking about consequences,” she told him sternly. “That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

Alec swallowed hard, and tried to believe her. 

~

It became easier when Jace showed up that evening at Alec’s door, obviously chagrined. “I’m sorry, Alec.”

Alec looked up with a raised eyebrow and studied nonchalance that Jace could probably see through. “Izzy’s been talking to you, hasn’t she.”

“What? No.” Jace shook his head, still hesitating at the door. “She didn’t need to lecture me. I’ve been reading up on asexuality, I found some articles about it online, and I — I’m really sorry I said that. It was insensitive and dismissive. I’m sorry, Alec.”

Alec almost replied that there was nothing to be sorry for, but the memory of the ache in his chest at Jace’s words, along with a voice that sounded like an amalgamation of all the people he loved in his life, made him change his phrasing. “You’re forgiven. You didn’t know what it was.”

Jace huffed out a breath through his nose, finally approaching to sit down on the bed beside Alec. “I’m still sorry. Even if I didn’t know what it meant, I shouldn’t’ve started off by questioning you.” 

“Thank you, Jace.” Alec cracked a small smile, but Jace wasn’t done. 

“I did a lot of research, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re not — unnatural, or whatever you said, and your identity is completely valid.”

“Some people don’t think so,” Alec said quietly, the words slipping out his lips almost without his permission. “Maryse, for one.”

“Well then, she can fuck off.” Jace always claimed to be cold-hearted, but he showed that to be a lie whenever anyone insulted those he cared about — the immediate surge of anger in his voice warmed Alec’s heart. “She — and Robert, for that matter — know nothing about it.” Jace paused for a moment, head tilted to the side. “Magnus didn’t say that, did he?”

“No.” Alec huffed out a small laugh. “In fact, he’s been very insistent that there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Good.” Jace relaxed, leaning into Alec’s side as a smile grew on his face. 

~

Over the summer, Alec had almost forgotten how much he disliked law, and the first week of term was a harsh wake-up call. And he only had room for one more interesting Creative Writing course that term, which meant he spent most of his time bored. 

He was roommates with Magnus again — Izzy and Jace were together in another dorm, Izzy studying forensic pathology and Jace taking a variety of courses on anything that caught his attention — and he’d also nearly forgotten how beautiful Magnus was. Seeing him again was like a fist to his solar plexus, but he managed to hide it beneath an honest grin at Magnus’ presence. Magnus was beaming too as he pulled Alec into a hug, and Alec pushed his unreciprocated feelings to the side for now. 

Really, Alec shouldn’t be so irritated by the law classes — sure, he was bored and tired and frustrated and didn’t like law, but if he was going to do it his whole life, he’d better get used to it. And he was away from Maryse, which was nice, and with Magnus, which was arguably better; what did he have to complain about? 

He said as much to Magnus one day (minus the bit about how amazing it was to be so close to Magnus), but to his surprise, Magnus didn’t nod sympathetic agreement or try to comfort him. Instead, he met Alec’s eyes with a frankness that surprised him, and said, “Then maybe you shouldn’t do law.”

Alec blinked at him, taken aback, and Magnus went on before he could speak. “I know it’s the family business or whatever, but you obviously don’t like law, Alexander. You don’t need to make yourself do something you hate for your parents. Your siblings aren’t; why should you?”

Still blinking as he processed Magnus’ words, Alec caught hold of the last part of his statement. “But — I’m the oldest. And I’m not bad at law, unlike my siblings. Izzy’s a brilliant forensic pathologist, Jace basically excels at everything he puts his mind to — but what can I do, except… this?” 

“You can write,” Magnus said promptly. “You love those Creative Writing courses we take together, and I’ve seen some of the stuff you’ve written. It’s impressive.”

Alec shrugged. Sure, he wrote things, but they weren’t good — it was just… a pastime. Something fun to do. He remembered what Maryse had said when she’d found him, fourteen years old, scribbling down a story he’d dreamt up rather than doing his homework: You can’t make a career with that, Alexander. It’s a waste of your time. How will you become a good lawyer if you’re distracted this easily?   The words had been cruel, but she’d assured him it was for his own good — he needed a bit of harshness to keep on track. Eventually, he’d learnt to impose that harshness, that discipline, on himself; he couldn’t let himself be distracted with dreams of writing. The Creative Writing courses were an allowable rebellion; choosing them over the family law firm was impossible. 

Magnus looked at him sadly, a small frown marring his perfect features as he apparently read the train of Alec’s thoughts from his face. “Try, Alec. I really think you’re good enough to publish.”

Again, Alec shrugged, still unwilling — but the idea had taken root. 

~

When Alec started writing down a few notes on a short story idea, he didn’t bring it up to Magnus — neither of them had talked about their discussion, and he suspected that Magnus was as reluctant as Alec to bring it up. But those notes started shaping up into an actual story, and then the Google Doc he’d written it on was nearly twenty pages long, and suddenly he had a forty-thousand-word short story that he actually liked.  

At that point, he gave it to Magnus, who grinned at him with an absolute delight that definitely didn’t make Alec’s heart skip a beat and proceeded to read through it in silence while Alec did his best not to pace worriedly. It wasn’t a long story, and in a little less than half an hour, Magnus set it down with a grin slowly growing on his face. “Alexander, this is amazing.”

Alec’s head shot up in surprise. “It is?” 

“Of course it is!” Magnus beamed at him, the printed-out pages still in his hands as he began to gesture dramatically, his energy filling up the room like sunlight. “The characters are magnificent — you’ve managed so much character development here, even though it’s super short, but it still doesn’t sound awkward. They’re each dealing with their diverse sexualities in different ways — don’t think I missed the bisexual one — and I loved reading about their journeys. The plot’s entertaining and fast-paced, the relationships just work — you’re even better at this than I’d expected, darling.”

A blush travelled down Alec’s neck at the praise, the term of endearment, or both, but he ignored it for now. “So you — you think I should…” He trailed off, uncertain. 

“Publish it?” Magnus filled in. “Yes, certainly. I mean, if you’re comfortable with it; I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do—”

Alec quickly shook his head, cutting off that thought in the bud. “No, I think — I do want to do this.” If only to remind myself there isn’t a career there.  

Magnus’ grin brightened. 

~

One short story, published under the pseudonym “Gideon Archer”. (And a request from the journal’s editors for more, but — well, Alec had long-standing habits of thinking more poorly of himself than Magnus would say he deserved.) Then, a second short story, and ideas for a longer one as well as several more novellas that spilled out onto the page of their own accord and were happily published by the journal, and abruptly Alec realised that he was getting a solid salary between Ragnor’s coffee shop and the royalties. 

He wrote about a lot of things — some he knew of, some he didn’t. Stories of growth and coming out and liberty that Alec longed for. Gay subtext (or just gay text, if Alec were honest). Characters with twists and turns like real life, flaws that complimented their virtues, relationships that didn’t drown them out but buoyed them up. College students or knights in shining armour or witches or ordinary adults with jobs that tried and failed to crush them — Alec loved getting into their heads, figuring out how they worked. What drove them. 

Magnus supported him with a single-minded ferocity that surprised Alec. His parents had encouraged him, of course, if you could call repeated lectures that he needed to do better encouragement, but Magnus was different. Magnus didn’t say that he needed to do something, only offered assistance or tea or quiet or noise or a sounding board or praise or whatever Alec needed to keep pushing himself forward. He complimented Alec’s writing effusively, but gave good suggestions when Alec asked for them; it was obvious that he really did like Alec’s stories, though Alec suspected he would’ve pretended to like them regardless. 

That was simply what Magnus was like: unerringly kind, especially to his friends, which now included Alec. 

(Just friends, Alec reminded himself. Magnus was the brightest star in Alec’s sky, and the warmth in Alec’s heart was impossibly fond whenever he looked at him, and if Alec had his way, he’d spend all the time he could at Magnus’ side because he loved him — but Magnus didn’t feel the same way. 

It didn’t mean anything that Magnus sometimes looked at Alec with a light in his eyes that Alec could almost make himself believe was something more; Alec was ace. Magnus knew that. There was no way in hell that Magnus — beautiful, attractive, amazing Magnus — would want boring, blunt, gangly Alec who’d never want to, well, have sex.  The whispers of unnatural in the back of his mind were quieter now, thanks to Magnus, but he knew perfectly well that his asexuality would rule him out for most relationships. 

And Alec was fine with that. Completely, totally-not-lying-to-himself, actually-genuinely-truly fine.

If he told himself so often enough, perhaps eventually he’d believe it.)

~

Alec’s second Christmas with Magnus was somehow both better and worse than the first. He was more settled in his own skin, now, and (technically) a published author — but he was also desperately in love with somebody who wouldn’t love him back. 

Mistletoe hung over the doorways of their dorm room thanks to Magnus’ decorating spree, but Alec was careful never to stand under them for long, because if Magnus only kissed him because he was standing under the mistletoe, Alec didn’t know if he’d survive it. The only thing worse than being friends with his unrequited love would be if he wrecked that friendship by pressuring Magnus to kiss him. 

(Oddly, Magnus looked disappointed when Alec avoided every doorway in the dorm, but Alec pushed that thought aside in favour of throwing himself into the Christmas preparations — if only as a distraction from how cute Magnus looked in his various Christmas-themed sweaters.) 

~

“Izzy, please get out of the kitchen,” Alec said, attempting to usher her away from the stove which, in her hands, was more lethal than most poisons. 

“Fine,” she huffed. “I just wanted to heat up some soup!”

“I can make soup for you,” Alec replied, pulling a container from the fridge. It was the weekend, a useful break from classes, and Magnus was on a date with somebody he’d met earlier that week. Izzy, realising that Alec needed a distraction, had promptly come over and invaded the kitchen. 

She beamed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and helped him set the table while the soup was warming up. She didn’t try to talk to him as they ate, for which Alec was thankful, but his grace period apparently ended there because once the dishes were cleared away, she sat down next to Alec on the couch and began the interrogation. “So. Magnus.”

Alec arched an eyebrow, feigning ignorance of her point. “Magnus.”

She didn’t let him get away with beating around the bush. “You’re in love with him.” 

No point in trying to deny it. Alec swallowed down the ache that rose in his chest at the knowledge. “Yes.”

Izzy frowned, lips twisting sideways. “Are you sure he doesn’t like you back, Alec? I don’t know him very well, but—”

“He doesn’t,” Alec said, quickly and harshly to drown out her voice and the traitorous hope that bloomed in his heart like a rebellion. “He’s literally on a date with somebody else right now, Izzy.” And there’s no way he likes me the way I like him, not when he knows I’m ace. 

Worry in her eyes. There was really no need for it; Alec was fine — he pretended the lie didn’t sound false, even in his mind — and anyway there wasn’t anything she could do. “But—”

“Magnus doesn’t like me that way,” Alec bit out, unable to bear her comfort. “Not — not romantically, not the way I like him—”

Izzy’s eyes were suddenly wide, fixed on something behind Alec, and he turned as if in slow motion toward the doorway, where Magnus was standing. 

Panic rose in his throat like a tidal wave. If Magnus knew, it would be the end of their friendship; there was no way Magnus would still want to be roommates with him after this — “You’re back early,” he said, a desperate attempt to divert Magnus’ attention from what he’d just said — if only Magnus hadn’t heard his last words—

“My date was a self-centred biphobic bigot,” Magnus said absently, “and I’m an idiot.”

Vaguely, Alec noted Izzy slipping quietly out of the room to leave them alone, but most of his mind was taken up with Magnus and the heartbreak that he knew would be coming in a few moments. “Uh. You are?” 

“Very much so.” Magnus’ voice was soft, now, and a smile was beginning to curl up his lips; confusion was threading into Alec’s thoughts, but he still heard Magnus’ next words. “I’d have to be an idiot, not to notice that we’ve both been pining hopelessly after each other.”

Alec’s world ground to a halt, his vision narrowing to the man standing in front of him. The light that was expanding in his chest was too bright, too hopeful, but Alec couldn’t bring himself to care with Magnus’ words echoing in his mind. “…Both?”

“I definitely have been.” Magnus stepped closer, the smile burning brighter on his face, something that Alec had seen before but never dared to trust in making his eyes glow. “I’ve been in love with you for quite a while, Alexander.”

The sound of his full name made him shiver slightly, but not as much as the rest of Magnus’ sentence. Alec stepped forward to meet him, hand coming up to cup Magnus’ face. “I love you, too.”

Magnus’ smile was like an inferno now, and Alec wanted nothing more than to let it consume him, consume the equally brilliant grin on his own face because Magnus loved him.  

The rest of the world fell by the wayside as Magnus leaned in, gently, carefully, and kissed him. 

~

“I love you,” Magnus said quietly, a few hours and more kisses than Alec could count later. The words still made Alec’s smile brighten with the glow in his chest, despite how often he’d heard them by now. 

“And I you,” Alec returned, kissing him again, the only outlet for the love that was surging inside of him like a tidal wave. 

Magnus smiled, impossibly fondly. “I’ve waited a long time to hear that — I didn’t think you’d ever love me back.” 

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Of course I fell in love with you. Have you met yourself? You’re kind, you’re brilliant, you’re beautiful — you’re amazing, Magnus. If anything, it’s you who shouldn’t’ve fallen in love with me.”

A scoff, as though the mere idea was ridiculous, although a blush was staining Magnus’ cheeks. “You’re the amazing one.” He paused, then echoed Alec’s words from earlier, voice gentle and tender. “Of course I fell in love with you.”

“Even though…” Alec hesitated, oddly tentative. Magnus loved him, and yet Alec couldn’t help but fear that he’d leave if he realised all the implications— “Even though I’m ace?”

“Of course,” Magnus said again, though there was a sadder hint to his smile. “Your asexuality doesn’t change anything for me, sayang. It’s a part of you, and I love you.”

Warmth bubbled up in Alec’s chest, but there were still insecurities hidden away in the corners. “You’re okay with — with not having… sex?” 

“I’m more than okay with it,” Magnus assured him. “You are perfect, exactly as you are, sex or not.”

Alec let his shoulders relax as his lips curved up into a smile, and the insecurities vanished like the dark when the sun rose. 

~

There were still boring law courses with which Alec was getting steadily more fed up, and the fear of what Maryse would say if she knew all, and her voice in the back of Alec’s head that said he was unnatural, undeserving, wrong — but there were also a growing flood of stories that Alec wanted to write, and support from his friends, and Magnus’ voice that drowned her out to tell him that he was perfect, exactly as he was. I love you, he’d say, or you’re not broken, or I love you , or being ace is perfectly natural, Alexander, just like any other sexuality, or — again, always, most of all — I love you.  

I love you too, Alec said, and the future looked brighter. 

~

“What does it mean?” 

Magnus looked up from his Physics notes, blinking at Alec. “What does what mean?”

Alec was half-regretting speaking up so abruptly, but he went on. “That thing you call me. In another language. Sayang.”  

“Oh.” Magnus smiled, and if Alec didn’t know better, he’d say he was blushing. “It’s — well, it means something along the lines of ‘dearest’ or ‘darling’. It’s Indonesian.”

“Indonesian?” Alec tilted his head to the side, curious, though he didn’t want to pry. “Is that — is that where you’re from?”

Magnus nodded, and the evening spilled away in laughter and stories. 

~

Alec’s book — a proper, long story, not just one of the short stories that were apparently making the journal popular; he wasn’t sure how to take his apparent fame, so he mostly ignored it — was, finally, finished. It was, of course, longer than the others; he’d let some of his friends’ personalities bleed into it a bit. A friend with Raphael’s sharp sarcasm but Ragnor’s fashion sense. A nurse, sharp and cutting and confident as Catarina, in a relationship with two men who echoed Will and Jem. The main character’s love interest had a laugh like Magnus’ and an interest in physics that Alec eventually stopped pretending was just coincidence. 

(The main character was asexual. Alec didn’t use that word, but the reality of it was crystal clear, and when he wrote it down, he felt — right. Magnus beamed at him and hugged him tightly after reading it, and Alec felt happiness filling up his heart.)

He didn’t know if it was any good — okay, one journal liked his short stories, but would anyone actually want to publish a longer novel? Was he even any good at writing anything longer? He’d worked on the novel for months, now, and poured his heart out into it; only Magnus had read it, and he was unerringly supportive, but perhaps he was biased in favour of his boyfriend. 

(Boyfriend. Even months after they’d gotten together, the word made a smile grow impossibly broad on Alec’s face.)

But there was nothing to do but try, so Alec sent the manuscript — still under a pseudonym — to a publisher, and waited with baited breath. 

When the reply came back with an enthusiastic acceptance and numbers that made Alec’s eyes widen, Magnus only laughed and pulled him into a kiss. 

~

Alec took a deep breath, focusing on Magnus’ hand in his to calm his racing heartbeat. The Lightwood mansion loomed up in front of him, cold and dark and imposing; Magnus seemed caught between being a supportive boyfriend and awe at their surroundings (which, Alec had to admit, were rather impressive from an outsider’s perspective), although the supportive boyfriend part was winning out. 

Term was over, and Alec had already quit all of the law classes he disliked so much — he wouldn’t be going back. There was a first edition book with Gideon Archer along the bottom its cover in gold letters, in a bag at his side. The royalties were substantially more than his short stories had brought, though he was still writing those; his publisher had suggested making a collection of those short stories, and was definitely willing to publish another book if he came up with one. Alec knew that writing didn’t exactly bring in the largest paychecks, but he was set for now, and it was well worth it to spend his life doing what he loved: writing. 

Unfortunately, however, he still needed to tell his parents about his decision — a conversation he wasn’t exactly looking forward to, but it had to be done. Magnus had agreed to accompany him, thankfully, despite Alec’s warnings that Maryse wouldn’t take it well — wouldn’t take any of it well, but especially not the fact that Alec was dating Magnus. 

He stepped forward, Magnus still holding his hand, and knocked. The butler opened the door and gestured them inside with a bow; the servitude left both Magnus and Alec uncomfortable, but Maryse’s icy presence was far worse. 

“Alexander,” she began coolly. 

“It’s Alec,” Alec said tightly, and she scowled. It was clear that she hadn’t yet realised what Magnus was to him; Alec knew he’d be kicked out as soon as she figured it out, and he wanted to show her his book first. 

“Alec,” she said, relenting slightly, although she still didn’t look at Magnus — she’d dismissed him as lower-class with a glance, and anger was bubbling in Alec’s stomach. “Good to have you home.”

She had noticed Magnus’ presence, then — she was offering a greeting rather than skipping directly to the questions on his studies, to keep up the pretense of a warm, friendly family that worried about each other. Cared about each other, didn’t call each other unnatural. Alec ignored her mimicry of affection. “I’m leaving law.”

A blink, as she stared at Alec in frozen astonishment, and then the mask of amicability fell away; Magnus was forgotten in the fury that Alec could see in her eyes. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you will do no such thing!”

“I already have,” Alec said, implacable, emotions curled up tight in his chest where they couldn’t bleed onto his face. Magnus squeezed his hand tighter, but Alec didn’t look away from Maryse to search his expression. 

With an effort, she calmed herself — marginally. “Alec.” (He noted she didn’t call him Alexander, probably an effort to placate him.) “I’m sure we can get you re-enrolled in all the right courses. You cannot simply abandon the family business; we won’t pay your way any longer if you leave—”

There it was — the threat, wrapped up in a nice packaging of friendliness. Fortunately, Alec had recently gained sufficient fiscal independence to stare her down. “I don’t need your money anymore, Maryse.” He pulled the book out of his bag, pushing it across the table toward her. 

She stared down at it in silence. Gideon Archer — the pseudonym he’d chosen for himself — wasn’t hard to figure out; she’d just called Alec by his middle name a f

of colourful nails & the defeat of homophobes

Malec | Rated general | tw homophobia | Post-Canon, Nail Polish, The Clave Being an Asshole (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Alec Lightwood Against the Clave, Clave Politics (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Politically Savvy Alec Lightwood, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Married Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Soft Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood | Bingo Square: Painted Nails

Summary:Magnus’ nails glowed with every colour of the rainbow.

Or, Alec paints his nails and is politically savvy.

A/N: This work was created for the Shadowhunters Pride Bingo presented by the Malec Discord Server.@malecdiscordserver

Thanks to @springlily25 for beta'ing this!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Magnus’ nails glowed with every colour of the rainbow. 

Sometimes they’d be plain black, but more often they were blue, or gold, or red, or purple — whatever colour best matched his outfit of the day. Sometimes they’d be literal rainbows, or iridescent, or coated in glitter, or shimmery in the light. 

When Magnus used his magic, the strands of blue would twist around his fingers and the nail polish would glow or shimmer or shine in the light; when he gestured, dramatically as always, his nails would be streaks of colour through the air. 

Alec knew he used magic to avoid chipping throughout the day, since his nails had been less perfect during those weeks he’d spent magicless. It was during that time that Alec first offered to help him paint them; Magnus had hesitated, then accepted, and it’d become almost a tradition for them to sit down on the bed every morning, a towel spread beneath Magnus’ hands to catch any drips, and Alec would rub away yesterday’s colour to replace it with a new one. 

This first time, Magnus’ hands had shaken until he almost dropped the bottle and he’d been debating the merits of hurling it across the room (cons: he’d need to clean it up by hand; pros: it would feel good), when Alec had gently taken the bottle and brush from him. Magnus hadn’t expected Alec to know how to paint nails, let alone to be as good at it as he obviously was; Alec explained that while Izzy had loved painting her nails when she was younger, she hadn’t always had a sufficiently steady hand to manage it, and so Alec had learned how. (Magnus thought that was adorable.)

After two shirts were destroyed by streaks of colour from not fully dried nail polish, Alec had bought a quick-dry coating and refused to let Magnus move until they were dry. That was the only part of the routine that didn’t last once Magnus’ magic was back — drying the polish with magic was much easier and faster — but the rest of it remained, a quiet tradition at whatever early hour they needed to get up. Sometimes it wasn’t possible — Alec had an early patrol, or Magnus needed to meet with a vampire client, or any of the other little emergencies of their lives came up and interrupted them — but they managed it surprisingly often. 

It wasn’t until a solid seven months after the Lilith/Asmodeus/Jonathan/Edom disaster — not to mention their marriage — and two months after the move to Alicante, that Magnus asked if Alec would like him to return the favour. It was a rare relaxed morning — Alec had a meeting with the Council at noon but nothing else — and the sun shone lazily through the window, lighting Magnus up in gold. 

Alec blinked at him for a moment, considering — he’d never thought about putting nail polish on himself before, but it would clearly make Magnus happy and he could always take it off if he disliked it, so— “Okay.” 

“Really?” Magnus beamed at him, immediately twirling his fingers to summon several different colours, and Alec would have faced far worse than a bit of nail polish in exchange for that smile. “What colour? And please don’t say black.”

“Uh.” Alec hesitated, uncertain. “Blue?”

“Blue it is, darling,” Magnus replied with a smile. The bottle he selected wasn’t a dark blue, but it wasn’t neon, either; in fact, it was almost exactly the same colour as Magnus’ magic with barely a hint of sparkle. Alec offered his hands, and Magnus insisted that he close his eyes before he began for “maximum effect”. 

The touch of the brush was cold but gentle, and Alec relaxed into the sound of Magnus’ voice as he talked about a client he’d had yesterday, a Shadowhunter who’d asked him to do a complex bit of warding to keep out an abusive ex. 

Soon enough, Magnus was putting the brush back in the bottle and magic was licking up Alec’s fingers, drying the polish. “Open your eyes, sayang.”

Alec obeyed and held up his hands to the light, which caught on the shimmer in the blue. He’d half-expected it to look ridiculous, a frivolity on his callused hands, but he should’ve known better — it looked incredible on Magnus, after all. The blue polish was elegant, pretty, refined; Alec was grinning when he looked up. “I love it.”

“I love you,” Magnus said, and yanked him into a kiss.

~

Alec wore the nail polish to his meeting for three reasons: one, it made Magnus grin; two, it matched with his tie; and three, he rather wanted to irritate the Council. 

It took a few minutes for them to notice — Alec had set up his notes in front of him and prepared to defend the bill he wanted to pass, which would allow same-sex parents to adopt, before he caught Councillor Dearborn staring fixedly and offendedly at his hands. 

He’d wondered whether he’d say something, but Dearborn’s staring had apparently drawn the attention of Councillor Shadetree, an outspoken woman who should’ve retired three years ago due to old age but had insisted on remaining. She was logical and not particularly anti-Downworlder, which was rather nice, but she had strict notions of gender norms and it was unsurprising when she raised a disdainful eyebrow at him. “What is that on your hand, Lightwood?”

“Lightwood-Bane,” Alec corrected automatically, “and it’s—”

“I think your… warlock may have cast a spell on your fingers,” Dearborn interrupted, apparently encouraged by Shadetree’s intervention. 

“My husband painted my nails by hand, actually,” Alec informed him. “And it’s quite offensive to refer to somebody by their species, you know.”

Dearborn scowled, opening his mouth, but Shadetree spoke up before he could further display his bigotry. “I was under the impression, Inquisitor, that such decoration is generally worn by women.”

“I was under the impression, Councillor,” Alec returned, matching her tone, “that women and men are equal in Shadowhunter society.” 

She huffed, but Alec had done his research — she’d supported a bill to officially give women and men equal rights in Shadowhunter society. He went on to the main point of the meeting before anyone else could say anything. Dearborn and his followers dissolved into glares, but Shadetree, along with Jia and the less prejudiced Councillors, at least listened to Alec’s arguments. The Council was divided into three groups: Dearborn’s, a little less than half, composed almost entirely of old white men with powerful family names who hated Alec as much for having a husband as they did for his husband’s race; Shadetree’s group, much smaller, with some inherent prejudices but capable of being argued with; and the rest, Alec’s group, mostly younger Shadowhunters who actually wanted change. He knew he had the support of the last group, and probably nobody from Dearborn, but it was Shadetree’s bunch that he needed to convince. 

He’d fought and bullied and bartered same-sex marriage past the Council a month ago, and that served as a precedent to back up his case — if two men or two women could marry with the same rights as a man and a woman, why couldn’t they adopt children? 

Bigotry, that was why. “It’s unnatural,” Dearborn snarled. “Exposing children to such — such impropriety—”

“Same-sex couples are no less appropriate for children than heterosexual ones,” Alec said, tone still Alicante-polite. “We are in desperate need of parents to adopt the orphans created in the last year, and same-sex couples would be ideal candidates if there were fewer barriers to adoption.”

“We don’t want those children growing up like that,” Dearborn replied. “Alternatives—”

“There are no alternatives,” Alec hissed, a bit of the anger he’d been suppressing rising to the surface. “If you’d prefer the children died—”

“Of course not, but you have to understand how unnatural—”

“I understand nothing of the sort,” Alec said shortly. “All in favour of my bill?”

~

It passed. The Council argued it and debated back and forth until Alec’s head was pounding, but it passed — Councillor Shadetree’s vote, along with the majority of her group, had been decisive. 

Her eyes flicked disdainfully down to Alec’s blue-painted nails, but she didn’t comment again, and there was something almost respectful in her nod. Alec inclined his head in response, thanked her, and stumbled gratefully into the peace and quiet of the loft. 

Magnus had been working, but he came hurrying out when the wards detected Alec’s arrival, and he didn’t need to ask Alec what the outcome had been — Alec’s tired grin said it all for him. Magnus kissed him brightly, a smile against his lips. 

“You did it,” Magnus breathed, still smiling. 

“I had help,” Alec replied — Aline, Lydia, Jia, a young woman named Amita Anand. “And I think these” — raising his hands to indicate his nails — “served as a good-luck charm.”

“I doubt you needed it,” Magnus said, kissing him again for good measure. “You’re changing the world, sayang.”

Alec shrugged, half-uncomfortable with the praise despite the frequency with which Magnus bestowed it, and tugged him back into another kiss with nails glowing blue.

U — Understanding [Shadowhunters Ace ABC]

Malec | Rated general | tw internalised & institutionalised homophobia | Bingo Square: “Love is Never Wrong”

Summary:Isabelle realised that her brother was not straight when she was fifteen and he was sixteen.

Or: Izzy loves her brother, but some wounds go deeper than she can fix. (Ft. gratuitous light/dark metaphors, sibling antics, and angst with a happy ending.)

A/N: The letter ‘U’ for the Shadowhunters Ace ABC, an event from the Shadowhunters Ace Mini Bang Discord. Also for the Shadowhunters Pride Bingo presented by the Malec Discord Server.@malecdiscordserver

Thanks to @maplemachiato for beta'ing this for me!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Isabelle realised that her brother was not straight when she was fifteen and he was sixteen. 

It was shortly after Alec had become Jace’s parabatai, and that was also when she understood why Alec had hesitated so long on the day of the ceremony: he’d known that his feelings for Jace were not what a parabatai should feel. She hadn’t seen it at first — Alec was simply like that, far more interested in rules and politics than in romantic relationships; she’d long wondered if he was ace, or if it was just who he was. 

(As it turned out, it was a bit of both: Alec was grayromantic, but he also had responsibilities and a dutythat prevented him from dating. Until Magnus, that is, but now she was getting ahead of herself.) 

The realisation came as she watched them train. Alec was all pale skin and dark hair, while Jace was gold; both were shirtless, dripping with sweat and warm with exertion. They’d started with staffs but switched to hand-to-hand soon enough; she and Alec were the only ones who could stand against Jace for any length of time, but this time, Alec lost. His eyes flicked to Jace’s chest, only for a moment, and then away; Jace didn’t catch the glance, only the hesitation in his step, and Alec was on the ground in a moment. He got up laughing and immediately challenged Jace to a rematch, but there was something darker, pained, guilty in his gaze. 

Jace didn’t catch the glance, but Izzy did, and suddenly she understood it all. Alec’s lack of attraction to girls, his discomfort when Jace flirted with them, the looks he sent Jace. Alec liked boys, not girls, and it was tearing him apart. 

It wasn’t, Izzy knew, only about Jace. Yes, Alec looked at Jace in a way that was not brotherly, but it was more of an infatuation with the only good-looking boy he knew well, rather than anything else — with time, Alec would learn that what he felt for Jace wasn’t that kind of love at all. 

But this wasn’t just about Jace. Alec looked at other boys, too, a quick glance up and down that Izzy only noticed because she’d learned to pay attention; always, when he pulled his eyes away, there’d be that darkness in them. Guilt, for something that he could not control but blamed himself for anyway. 

She wanted to help — Alec had always protected her, whether it be from a skinned knee or the Clave’s wrath, and she wanted, just once, to return the favour. So she brought it up a few weeks later. 

Jace had left the training room already, and Alec was putting his staff away, that dark look in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Izzy when she didn’t follow Jace. “Iz? Everything okay?”

“No,” she said, but Alec immediately looked worried so she added, “I’m fine.”

“Is it Jace?” Alec inquired. 

“No, it’s you,” she huffed, looking at him insistently until he met her eyes. “Alec, I know you’re—”

A flash of understanding, quickly hidden beneath a harsh mask. “We’re not talking about this,” Alec said sharply, and turned to go. 

They both had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and this was one argument Izzy wasn’t going to let him win. She followed him, walking quickly to keep pace with his longer strides. “Yes, we are.”

Alec didn’t bother replying, only sped up until she was jogging to keep up. She didn’t let him get ahead of her, however; that would mean he could shut himself in his room and refuse to come out. Recognising that she wasn’t going to let this go, Alec changed course and headed for his office. 

He sat down at his desk — still sweaty, which, gross, but it was really her fault since she’d refused to let him escape her via taking a shower — and started working on a report. Izzy stood in front of him, silent. 

A minute. Two. This was a battle of wills, and Izzy would be damned if she let her brother off on this. 

Usually, he’d give in at the seventy-three second mark — sixty seconds as he waited her out, then a bit more time for him to be stubborn, and then he’d raise his head and ask what she wanted. Now, though, he continued working despite her presence, though he didn’t appear to be taking in anything he was reading. 

Three minutes. Izzy didn’t move. 

At the two-hundred-and-twelve second mark, Alec sighed, signed a report, and looked up as though they hadn’t just spent nearly four minutes sitting in silence. “Yes?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know,” Izzy said casually, sliding into the seat across from him. 

Alec raised an eyebrow in feigned ignorance of her point, but there was perhaps the faintest hint of vulnerability in his eyes — something visible through the dark. 

“Love is never wrong — it’s them, not you,” she said softly, pressing the advantage, but apparently she’d made a misstep because Alec’s eyes abruptly shuttered. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her coldly, eyes dark and hopeless as a pair of black holes. She felt her heart sink at the harshness in his voice, not really directed at her. 

She looked back at him, desperate and confused, and he almost faltered, but held strong. “They’re the ones who decide what’s wrong, Izzy-belle,” Alec said gently, heartbreakingly, and Izzy suddenly understood. 

It wasn’t that Alec hated himself, or that their society had pushed him to believe that he was wrong. It was that he knew, always, that loving men would be disastrous — that if he let that part of himself out, it would break down the life he lived. His career would be gone, yes; perhaps more importantly, his ability to protect her and Jace would be gone, and that was something that Alec couldn’t allow. Alec was gay, but that was nothing but a weakness that he had to suppress — not because he thought it was wrong, but because the world did. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, uselessly. Obsolete. The black holes in Alec’s face looked like they’d never light up again; he inclined his head toward the door, and she left in a silence that echoed in the dark. 

Alec’s future, she felt with a sudden, terrifying certainty, would not be happy. 

She could see it all happening, unrolling like a dire prophecy in her mind: years and years of this, of shame and pain and humiliation and self-hatred, years of suppressing himself for his siblings’ sakes — and then a marriage, loveless and joyless, to whatever woman would benefit the family the most. Alec’s own happiness, worthless. Not relevant to the equation. The dark in Alec’s eyes would never fade, never lighten. Black holes forever. 

She didn’t try to talk to him about it again; it would not help. He knew that she, at least, wouldn’t hate him for it, and perhaps that would be a weight off his mind; but by making him talk about it, she’d brought those black holes to the surface again, and she couldn’t bear to do so again. 

So the years unrolled as she’d hoped they wouldn’t and known they would: Alec grew older, shoulders broadening to accommodate his height, to bear the weight of an ever-increasing responsibility. He still looked at Jace, but he’d grown better at hiding it, better at keeping himself hidden away beneath the dark. He was Acting Head now, in name as well as in reality — really, he was more of a Head than Maryse or Robert had ever been, but that wouldn’t make him happy. 

Sure, there were moments of joy: on a hunt; when Maryse smiled at him proudly; when Izzy took down a Shadowhunter twice her size who’d dared to suggest she couldn’t fight in heels; when Jace grinned and told him that three come in, three come out — but it was only ever on the surface, a glint of light dancing just past the event horizon. Never a glow that meant Alec was happy.

Until Magnus Bane. When Alec looked at him, it was like he couldn’t quite hold in the attraction — like the light was spilling out despite Alec’s attempts to hold it back. That immediate infatuation was new; Izzy could tell that he liked Magnus more than he’d liked anyone else before (perhaps because he was grayromantic, perhaps simply because Magnus was like nobody else in their lives), and she hoped with a sudden desperation that he’d let himself go for once. The darkness abated, faded, almost went away—

—and then it was back, dark as ever, black holes replacing that tentative light as Alec told her that he was engaged to Lydia. 

It was what she’d imagined, what she’d never wanted, what she’d feared the most. A perfect political marriage, loveless lifeless lightless like Alec’s eyes. And it was all the worse because she’d hoped, for a happy golden moment, that Magnus Bane could chase that nightmarish dark away. 

That was why she sent him the invitation to the wedding. Alec wouldn’t make a move on his own; she couldn’t take that step for either of them, but she could open the door, let the light in and hope that they would step into it. 

When the door opened and Magnus came in, she saw the light burst suddenly into Alec’s eyes. Her brother stormed down the aisle and pulled a man into a kiss, and suddenly, the future seemed brighter.