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Merry Christmas, @royaltybane!

I hope this is to your liking and accurate. This was fun to draw and I had to much fun with Magnus makeup XD I could not find any accurate images of what ampelos suppose to look like but I hope I got it right. Merry Christmas!! And have a good one <3

#royaltybane #malecsanta20 #*art20 #*gifts20

[magnuslightwood-bane0414]

I didn’t participate in Malec secret Santa this year because this has been a surprisingly busy holiday season for me but wow wow wow whenever I get some free time I’m going through these stories and all of them are fabulous! I don’t know if I have any followers who participated, but if you did then thank you for giving me some happiness during this holiday season! These fics make my heart so full! What better way to celebrate than with Malec?!?

#malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #malec fanfic #malecsanta20

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Merry Christmas, @nancyloumm!

#nancyloumm #malecsanta20 #*fanvid20 #*gifts20

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Merry Christmas, incorrect-malec!

For @incorrect-malec. This is the first part to a larger fic which will be updated sometime after the reveal, as the plot ran away from me! I tried to incorporate as many of the proposed likes as I could to make this an interesting and fun gift! Happy holidays, dear giftee, I hope you sincerely enjoy your present ❤️

Minor content warning for some cursing and small mentions of blood.

*****

find me here (amidst the chaos)

“Mr. Lightwood-Bane? You have a special visitor.” 

Alec glances up from the spread of ridiculous red tape sprawled across his desk. An antique grandfather clock nestled in the corner behind him ticks away the idle seconds. 

“Ah.” Alec leans into the high-backed support of his office chair. “Mr. Lightwood-Bane, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Magnus glides into the room, shutting the ornate door behind him with a heavy thud. “You forgot your lunch. I assumed it was all a simple ploy to trick me into bringing some for you.”

“A reasonable assumption.” 

“I probably shouldn’t be indulging in such skulduggery,” Magnus skirts around the desk, his magic tidying the paperwork into neat piles off to the side. “Alas, it has been some long six hours since I last saw my husband, and I’m little other than a fool for love.”

Alec stands and sways into Magnus’ space. “It is known to be a great weakness of yours.”

“Love?” Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s neck, soothing his fingers against the nape. “Hardly. Love is too often fleeting. You, however?” He brushes the ghost of a kiss against the corner of Alec’s mouth. “You have always been my greatest weakness.”

Alec kisses Magnus, because it says more than words ever could, because there are no words in any language that he knows which could be enough to express how he feels, how his core is alight and burning hot, how he can’t get close enough without knocking them both over, and even that wouldn’t soothe the ache.

“You didn’t even bring any food with you,” Alec points out, pressing a fleeting kiss to Magnus’ temple, lest he kiss any lower and come away with a shimmer upon his lips. His hands are broad and firm against Magnus’ hips, drawing him close until the ornate buckle of his belt is nestled against Alec’s belly button. He’s slouched, relaxed and calm. 

“An easy fix.” Magnus pecks the very tip of Alec’s nose, grinning easy at the way it scrunches. “What are you in the mood for?” 

“I really want to visit Sky,” Alec sighs, his shoulders drawing up. “I miss their chebureki. I’m craving their chebureki. But I have to file through this paperwork, or the Clave are going to be breathing down my neck.” 

Magnus traces the love rune against the nape of Alec’s neck. “I mean this with every breadth of my soul.” He pulls back, drawn to the mirth that draws Alec’s brow together before staring into hazel eyes which have always held his own gaze with such resolve it’s a wonder he ever questioned them. “Fuck the Clave.”

Alec laughs, hearty and full. Magnus kisses the lines of his eyes, warmth cloaking him like a homemade blanket. This, right here. This is all he needs. 

“Is that a proposition? I think I have a form somewhere for interdepartmental relationships, I’d be happy to sign it for you.”

Alec feigns to pull away, his hands falling to his sides. Before he can even turn his body, Magnus takes both of Alec’s hands in his own, kissing the space on his ring finger above his wedding band and the ridges of his knuckles while the other intertwines their fingers, squeezing tight and holding their joined hands against his heart - or, rather, a rough estimation of where his heart is, hidden beneath his unbuttoned silk shirt and floral blazer. 

“Burn it.” Magnus insists, resting his chin on the back of Alec’s hand, still held tight within his own. “Or shred it. Do you have a paper shredder? We can start a recycling plan! Saving the planet is really something the Clave should care about. Maybe they can investigate that, and then while they’re busy saving the world - I know that you Shadowhunters love that - we can steal away and pretend you never insinuated that I would ever break our sacred marriage vows for the Clave.”

Alec leans back, tapping the side of Magnus’ sleek ankle boots. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even joked about it.” 

“I wouldn’t break our vows for anything.” Magnus pulls a face. “Suggesting I would do it for the Clave is just insulting, Alexander. I have far better taste than that.”

“Is that so?”

Magnus hums, turning Alec’s hand to kiss down his wrist. “I’m pretty sure I have a certificate somewhere that proves it.” He murmurs, tilting his head into the cup of Alec’s palm against his cheek. “Unless that’s how you tested out your paper shredder? We haven’t cleared up whether it exists yet.” 

“Your environmental concerns are heard and are being considered by the Inquisitor at present” Alec teases, before adding. “I’m pretty sure that Aline has a paper shredder in her office. It’s definitely the kind of thing that Helen would have gifted. Probably wrapped in a bow, too.”

“That does sound like our Helen.” Magnus steps forward into the gap of Alec’s thighs. “I’m afraid that all I am hearing is that there is in fact no reason why you can’t take an extended lunch break.” He leans forward, teasing a kiss along the cut of Alec’s jaw. “Perhaps we can even enjoy it in the comfort of our own home.” 

They would have, Alec prepared with a half-hearted protest that Magnus would just as quickly swallow, bending the pretence of Alec’s revolve before whisking them away in a portal that would have to be created on the balcony to protect the furniture. They would have enjoyed a lovely meal, and each other’s company, and Magnus would have sent Alec back with a sweet kiss and a promise of reservations for some late night ponchiki, conveniently forgetting to mention that he’s missed a button of his shirt. 

Unfortunately, none of that happened. 

“Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane? High Warlock Lightwood-Bane?” 

Magnus rolls his eyes and steps away from Alec, although his hand skims Alec’s hip. The shadowhunter at the door seems familiar … Montclair something, maybe … yes, Eva Montclair. A sort of glorified P.A for various members of the Clave. Her sudden appearance in Alec’s doorway is not a terrible thing by nature, but Magnus has a feeling given the tightness of her knuckles around the hilt of her seraph blade that it is not good news that she couriers this time. 

Eva inhales deeply, her shoulders curled in defensively. “I was told to come and tell you both immediately, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything.” 

“What’s wrong, Eva?” Alec asks, kind but firm.

“There’s been an instance near Piccadilly. A warlock appears to have recently come into their powers and is struggling with gaining control over them. The Head of the London Institute called them ‘rogue’, but I personally don’t think that’s fair. From the descriptions received all the magic seems to be defensive rather than offensive. The High Warlock there is currently unavailable but suggested that you, Mr. Lightwood-Bane, would be a … ‘fitting substitute’ in his absence?”

Magnus fixes a pleasant smile even as a laugh hiccups in the back of his throat. Ragnor truly says the kindest things. “If this is as you describe, Eva, I’m sure there won’t be any further problems.”

“Please alert the London Institute that we are on our way.” Alec requests. “And please make it clear to them that they are under no circumstances to harm the young warlock. This is no longer any of their concern.”

The hint of a smile toys at the corner of Eva’s mouth, and it’s then that Magnus remembers that she’s married to a warlock herself, and in fact he has met Mars on a few occasions as part of the Downworlder council. Small world. 

“Absolutely.” Eva nods, curtly, and ducks out of the room. 

Magnus nods towards the balcony doors. “Portal?”

Alec sighs, reaching for Magnus’ hand. “This has to be the fifth call this year alone. I’m starting to think those pamphlets aren't working.”

The balcony doors swing open with a flick of Magnus’ hand. 

“Maybe the Institute Heads are just environmentally conscious.”

---

“Angels,” Alec whispers, when they come through the other side of the portal onto a wet cobblestone side-street, the air heavy with unshed rain. “They’re so young.”

The warlock couldn’t possibly be older than eighteen. Their torn jeans are stuffed into worn and muddy old boots, their denim vest is missing sleeves, torn at the shoulder, and the faded band tank underneath looks far too thin for a London evening. Thin, white lines stand out against brown skin, forming stars on their arms like tattoos of varying size, a mark unlike any that Alec has ever seen before and given the slight furrow to Magnus’ brow, it’s not a common one. Their hair is cropped short and pink, which could be a warlock mark, although Alec has his doubts. 

“Their mark is glowing.” Magnus comments. “It pulses, see. It’s directly connected to their magic.”

“Is that unusual?” Alec asks, casting an eye around for anything to gain the warlock’s attention without spooking them. “Your eyes glow.”

Magnus drops his glamour. A point is being made, but it isn’t Alec’s. “The pulse is frantic, like their magic, their emotions. Their powers are so new that they haven’t figured out how to control any of it yet. Warlock marks, although rare, do sometimes come with the magic itself. That’s a lot to discover about yourself at once. No wonder they look so frightened, poor dear.”

Alec’s throat tightens when the warlock grips their head and folds over. “We have to help them. I don’t even know how but … we have to help them.”

Magnus grips the back of Alec’s neck, turning him until they’re facing each other. “We will.” Magnus says, firm but kind. “We are their best hope right now, Alexander, and we will help them.” He grazes his thumb along the column of Alec’s nape. “We’re good at this.”

Alec nods, rolling his shoulders back as Magnus’ hand falls away. Magnus gestures and Alec follows his gaze, towards a portable store sign advertising 25% off coats and knitwear - it’s not terribly wide or tall, but if he’s careful he should be able to hide behind it, if temporarily. The last thing they need is for the warlock to feel as though they’ve been trapped, so letting Magnus talk first and providing support without being obvious about it is their best chance at this point in time. 

The first time they talked a warlock down Alec had gotten his eyebrows singed off for getting too close, too fast. 

“Excuse me?” Magnus has procured a coat, probably from the store behind Alec, his hands shoved into the pockets. 

To the unassuming eye, he probably appears to be a concerned citizen, his eyes glamoured once more, although there is an undeniable electricity to him that couldn’t be mistaken by those who know for a thunderstorm. There is a chance that the warlock, although presumably new to their powers, will be able to sense it as well. If that’s the case, their reaction is anyone’s guess. Alec tightens his grip on his bow.

“I’m Magnus Bane.” The warlock glances up with lightning speed, their arms wound tightly around their chest, as though doing so would keep everything in place. Alec is familiar with the feeling. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I’m like you, see?”

Magnus must have dropped his glamour, for the warlock takes a step back, but they lose some of the tension around their shoulders. “May I ask for your name?” He asks, rocking back on his heels.

The warlock hesitates, the stars on their arms pulsing even faster. “Nova.” They say, after what feels to be an hour. Alec lets out a heavy breath and relaxes onto his haunches. This is good. 

“Hello, Nova.” Magnus flattens his palm against his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions? You don’t have to answer any that make you uncomfortable. My only motivation is helping you if I can.”

“What makes you think that you can help me?” Nova spits out. They’re shaking. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me. The other day I was fine, I was normal and then I woke up yesterday and I have these weird tattoos on my arm and today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts - and none of it makes any sense! None of it!” 

Magnus takes a lone step forward, but Nova doesn’t appear to notice. Alec feels a chill crawl down his spine. “You don’t know me, so what I’m about to ask of you probably goes against every instinct you have. Nova, I need you to trust me.”

“Why?”

Magnus takes another step. The hairs on the back of Alec’s neck stand to attention. “Because I’ve been where you are.” Magnus explains. “Lost. Confused. Angry. I was a child when I discovered my magic, what I could do with it. I didn’t have anybody to help me, and I always vowed that I wouldn’t let that happen to others, if I could help it. I want to help you.”

“What am I?” Nova furiously shakes their head, gripping at their elbows so tight little pinpricks of blood skate down their arms. “Why is this happening to me?”

“I prefer to call myself a warlock. Many of us do.” Magnus explains. He holds out his palm, letting a blue flame collect in the centre. “You can refer to yourself however you like. You can just be Nova, and nothing more, if you want.”

“But the magic … that won’t go away?”

Magnus shakes his head. “No. Take my word for it, you will only cause yourself more harm if you try. It’s not all bad.” The flame in Magnus’ hand turns into a cupcake, with a small sugary rainbow on top of the cream white frosting. “Once you learn how to control it, the things you’ll be able to do are incredible.”

“I lost a mug.” Nova laughs, a fragile thing. “It’s so stupid. I just threw it at the wall, but it didn’t smash or anything it just … disappeared. I looked for hours. It’s not even important, it was a quid or something but it … it’s gone. I did that. I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me. What if - what if I do that to somebody? Make them … disappear.” 

“I don’t think so.” Magnus is a few feet away now if that. “The kind of power that takes is … astronomical, not to mention the technical restraint. The worst you might do is cause some minor injuries, but even that is rare.”

Nova’s stars are glowing steadily. “Have you ever made someone disappear?”

“Not without the intent to do so.”

The answer seems to appease Nova. Alec stays hunched down, it doesn’t look like Magnus needs his support, although it would be nice to stretch his back soon, although he still trains from time to time, he isn’t exactly as young as he used to be. 

“Magnus Bane. Step away from the rogue warlock at once. This is no longer an issue for the Downworlder Council to handle, this has become an Institute matter and will thus be handled by Shadowhunters. Your services have not proven useful, and this warlock must be subdued before any harm is caused.” 

The electricity in the air gets sharper. Alec hesitates but eventually rises slowly from his crouched position. He catches the minute the Institute Head, Stephen Highsmith, sees him and the flood of blood to his cheeks and forehead. A second later, his head whips towards Nova, who is clutching at their head, their wide eyes caught between the three of them. Alec doesn’t have the time to search for the Shadowhunters positioned around them, knows on instinct that they’re surrounded, that the only way out is through talking and, if that fails, a little violent liberty. 

“The warlock is a child.” He states, stalking out from behind the sign. He grips his bow tight and positions himself diagonally from Magnus, firm in his defence. “Surely you have higher morals than that, Stephen.”

Highsmith, a weasely man riding the coattails of his family name, sneers and draws his seraph blade. He’d never been too good as a Shadowhunter, from all accounts, but power is a currency and money talks. “It was very honourable of you to leave your post and flock to my streets, Inquisitor Lightwood, but I’m afraid your presence is simply not necessary. My men and I have it handled.”

“I’m sure you’re very capable of handling precarious situations, Mr. Highsmith.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Magnus’ mouth. “However, as High Warlock Fell is currently out of the country and has given permission for Alexander and myself to fulfil his duties in his place, I do believe it is a case best left to us. We don’t intend to intrude upon your delicate sensibilities, I’m sure you’re a very busy man who has much better things to do than to waste your time on such a small affair.”

“For the record.” Alec smiles with no heart. “It’s Lightwood-Bane. A simple mistake, I’m sure, but an important thing to rectify. Names carry a lot of importance and weight, you know.”

Highsmith splutters. “I do not have time for this!”

“Neither do we.” Magnus stalks closer, until he’s within arms distance from Highsmith. Alec inches closer to Nova, now bent over with their palms pressed against their eyelids. “This is a matter for the Downworlder council, and as it’s representatives, we will take care of it. The longer you argue and fight with us over this, however, the longer it will take until we are out of your hair.”

The back of Alec’s neck prickles with heat. Magnus continues to admonish Highsmith. “Neither Alexander nor I will budge until Nova is safe. Believe me when I tell you that there is nobody more equipped to handle this than us, and if you don’t take your leave quietly and with what little grace you can summon, you will be responsible for whatever harm or damage is caused.”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Highsmith’s face is blotchy and red. 

“Quite easily.” Magnus twists his fingers, a white-hot blast landing at Highsmith’s feet. His shoes turn into fluffy bunny slippers. The ears flop when he pounds his feet. “Respect is earnt, Mr. Highsmith, and quite frankly you have done nothing worth receiving mine.”

A low muttering draws Alec’s attention. Nova has sunk onto their knees, the heel of their palms digging into their eyes. Alec quietly side-steps closer, holding his bow behind his back so as not to terrify Nova even more. 

“I just want to go home. I just want this all to end. I want to go home.”

Alec sneaks a glance towards Magnus, still holding defence against Highsmith, who has acquired shocking green hair and a yellow high-visibility vest alongside the bunny slippers. Perhaps it won’t go as smoothly as if Magnus were the one talking Nova down, he can connect with them in a way Alec never would, but he can offer support - just as long as he can calm Nova down, draw them away from the conflict, that’s all … then they can dismiss Highsmith because there would be no ‘warlock problem’ and Nova’s safety and comfort could once again take priority. 

“Nova?” Alec crouches down, rocking back on his heels. “My name is Alec. I’m a friend of Magnus’. We’re going to do our best to get you home, okay?” 

Nova starts rocking back and forth. Their tattoos glow brighter than before, a luminescent blue that pricks at the back of Alec’s eyes. “I want to go home.” They continue to murmur, in a voice that takes on a warbled effect, as though they were speaking underwater. “I just want to go home.”

“Where do you live?” Alec asks. “Do you live in London?”

Nova falls to their knees. In the distance, Alec hears Magnus’ tone getting sharper, although he can’t make out exactly what is being said, it doesn’t fill him with much confidence that a productive conversation is being had. Nova keeps rocking, folded over into themselves. Blood streaks down their forearms, small droplets collecting behind their ears from where their fingers had dug into their scalp. 

“Enough is enough!” Highsmith shouts. Shadowhunters spill out from the dark, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons, seraph blades and a few staves, the odd throwing star attached at the hip. Archers are scattered across the rooftops around them, arrows notched and aimed. 

“Highsmith.” Magnus’ hands crackle as blue flame licks at his fingertips, wrapping around his arms. “I’ve made an attempt at civility, but you are clearly not interested in politics. Fine. Take this as a warning. Recall your soldiers. Stand down. I cannot guarantee everyone’s safety if you do not heed this warning, and the dangerous consequences your refusal could inflict are limitless. This young warlock is frightened. Let us look after them, and I assure you, nobody will get hurt.”

“I have had enough of your whining.” Highsmith spits. “This is now Shadowhunter business. Perhaps a few days in a cold cell will teach this young warlock how to control their powers.”

It all happens in a flash. Literally, an actual flash. 

Alec rushes forward to protect Nova, futile as it might be, his bow poised towards the nearest threat - a Shadowhunter only a few feet away with a seraph blade drawn and pointed at the back of Nova’s head. A static roaring fills his ears, but he pushes through, hardly aware of his own body as an arrow is sent flying into the Shadowhunter’s shoulder. His skin starts to prick and burn, from his hands up to his neck and rushing down to his ankles like a wildfire coursing through a forest. His heart beats in tune with Nova’s words, I want to go home, thud thud thud thud thud. 

Alec shuts his eyes against a luminescent white light, stumbling as the ground falls out from beneath him and an echo calls out for him, a desperate plea of his name shouted underwater.

Magnus? 

I just want to go home. 

---

Alexander? Alexander!

---

The air smells like metal and thunderstorms. Magnus whirls on his heel, angry tears racing down his cheeks. Hell, hath no fury like a warlock scorned. 

“Listen to me you weasely git.” Magnus spits. “I’m done playing civil. My husband is missing because you wanted to play hero for the first time in your poor, forsaken life. Sad you never got to play soldiers with the big boys? Well, guess it’s your lucky day. I am going to take Nova with me back to Alicante, and while I’m there, I’m going to ensure that my lovely friend Consul Penhallow is updated with everything that occurred here today. Unfortunately for you, her wife has family in the area, some of whom I am sure wouldn’t mind stepping up to keep an eye on you. I’ve seen how you conduct yourself, and if it is any indication of how your Institute is run, I guarantee it is not a position that you will retain for much longer.”

Magnus raises a hand. The Shadowhunters flanking Highsmith sheath their weapons. “Withdraw your forces and go slinking back. This is not a request. You did not heed my warning, but you will weather the consequences.” 

He turns, uninterested in sparring Highsmith another second of his time. Magnus didn’t see the flash, but he recognised the sign of a portal, although … there’s something about this one that is bugging him. 

Today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts … I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me … what if I do that to somebody? Make them disappear? 

“Fuck.” 

Nova is sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at their hands as though they’re something alien. Magnus collapses in front of them, a mirror-reflection. They’re shaking, tremors like the ground before an earthquake. 

The earthquake has come. This is the aftershock. 

“I don’t know what happened.” Nova whispers, harshly. “I just wanted everything to stop. I kept wishing that I could go home, and everything got really muffled, like I was wrapped in cotton or something, but I was still here and there was so much noise, so much shouting and I was so scared-”

“Might I reach for your hand?” Magnus asks. Nova glances up, their cheeks stained with dried tears. They nod, wordlessly. Magnus turns their palms over, tracing the lines with his fingers where they glow intermittently, as though a light was shining from beneath their skin. 

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” Magnus’ smile is a little thin, a little bittersweet. “Not at you. I know that Alexander is okay, wherever he is, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Nova shakes their head. “He could be dead, I could have-”

“You didn’t.” Magnus assures them. “I would know if he was, as sure as you knew when your magic appeared. Which, if I recall correctly, you said was behaving volatile today?”

Nova’s fingers curl against Magnus’. “That flash. I felt like an exposed wire. I felt…” Nova frowns. “Right as it happened, I felt really calm all of a sudden, but also … like my magic? I guess? Was being pulled out of me. I wasn’t scared anymore, though, I felt … comforted. Safe? But then I opened my eyes, and everything was the same, and all that fear came flooding back.”

Jagged pieces are coming together in Magnus’ mind. It’s a working theory, and a weak one at that, but it’s something and that’s enough for him to cling onto, to keep his sanity. 

“Nova. I don’t mean to pressure you, so please do not take it that way, you are of course free to go wherever you please - I promise the Shadowhunters, the lot dressed in all black with their pointy egos, won’t cause you any harm, but … if you’re willing, I could use your help.”

“My help?”

Magnus wicks a portal into existence. The wind around them picks up leaves and twigs but in the little bubble he creates for them, they are safe. “This is a portal. I sort of invented them. I have a feeling that what you did is not all that dissimilar, but I need your help to figure that out. I hope that I’ll be able to help you better understand your own powers, and get my husband back, but only if it is something you are comfortable with.”

Nova stares at the portal in wonder. They nod, hesitant at first and then firmer with every movement. “Whatever happened … it was my fault. I know you don’t blame me, somehow, but if I can help … I have to. You and your husband were willing to do anything to help me, it’s the least I can do.”

“It only takes a word, if at any point you want to bow out, or you don’t feel comfortable or safe, your commitment ends. There’s no obligation here, okay?”

Nova nods. Magnus stands gingerly, wiping the dirt of the back of his pants and extending a hand to help pull them up. “You’ll need to keep tight hold of my hand.” He instructs. “Don’t let go until I say it’s safe, otherwise I could lose you too.”

Nova squeezes Magnus’ hand. “We’ll find him.” They promise.

“Of course, we will.” Magnus smiles, wishing he could even half-convince himself. 

---

Alec focuses his landing on the balls of his feet, leaning back to distribute his weight to his heels to cushion the impact. It’s fortunate that, despite the length of time he’s spent behind a desk instead of in the field, he’s managed to keep up with his training. That fall could have wiped him out. 

He takes a few seconds to focus on what he can hear, smell, see; the floor beneath him is a dark mahogany, freshly polished, the sunlight leaking in from the north facing window between drawn burgundy curtains. Outside the window echoes a busy street, tolling bells and warm chatter and … horses? 

“Quite a grand entrance. Most people just use the doorbell.”  

The voice, familiar in the wrong ways, sweeps under his feet and knocks him backwards, scattered along the floor. It’s only magic, which he recognises beneath its coldness, that saves him from knocking over a beautiful porcelain vase sat precariously atop an equally beautiful, engraved end table. 

“Then again, I’m not sure I would have invited a Shadowhunter into my home.” 

The voice belongs to Magnus, but he is … not himself. At least not the one that Alec knows. It’s rather like seeing a distorted mirror image for all that stands out to him as wrong. 

The hardened glaze of Magnus’ glamoured eyes. The sneer of his mouth. The white of his knuckles curled around the top of a hardback novel. The muted colours, from his hair to his makeup-free face, to the dark pants with thin silver lines and matching suspenders over a plain black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The line of his body along the gilded lounge is carefully constructed to suggest a nonchalance which is betrayed by the tension Alec can see in the rigidity of his limbs; he’s poised to attack. 

This is not the Magnus that Alec recognises, this is a stranger with his husband’s face, his history, and his memories but not his present - or, rather, as Alec is quickly coming to suspect, his future. 

“I’m sorry.” Alec tries to stand up, but as soon as his hands touch the floor, they become stuck, as though someone has glued them to the wood. His feet too are rooted in place. 

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologise. It’s not as though you barged into my home, my private sanctuary, with no warning.” Magnus purses his lips. “You did not pull a weapon on me. I will admit that is a nice change.”

Alec can’t feel along his back for his quiver, but he’s fairly certain his weapons hadn’t travelled with him. Magnus had cloaked them to appear when he needed them, but it’s unlikely they were spelled in preparation for a situation such as this. Not that he is 100% clear on what this even is. 

“Who are you?” Magnus waves a hand dismissively. “Please don’t say ‘Shadowhunter’, I am quite aware of that much, even if your runes weren’t visible only child soldiers hold themselves with such rigid arrogance. I will concede the outfit is quite out of the ordinary, however.”

Alec clears his throat. He has to be delicate about this. “My name is Alexander.” He shifts his weight and draws his shoulders in as best he can. “Alexander L-uh, Wayland. Alexander Wayland.”

Smooth.

Magnus hums, folding his book and letting it fall onto the glass table in front of him. “I had suspected for a fleeting moment that you might have been a Lightwood. No matter.” He elegantly sweeps his legs over until both are flat on the ground, his hands clasped between his knees as he leans forward with a seamless, lethal grace. “The real question I need an answer to would be how a lanky Nephilim such as yourself made it past my wards to crash into the very room in which I had been trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. London isn’t exactly known for such these days.”

“London?” Alec echoes, without quite thinking much of it. 

Despite his foolish hope that he might have been wrong, the evidence was insurmountable and quite literally staring him in the face - however it might have happened, when he’d moved towards Nova he’d been sent falling and inevitably crashing into 1884. Magnus had only stayed in London for a year, hadn’t been back since, and Alec has seen the photos of him, Ragnor and Camille, recognises the darkness in Magnus’ gaze as when he first talked about Camille, and how she had torn him to pieces, discarding him without a thought after she was no longer satisfied with him. 

“Magnus, Archibald has two extra tickets for tonight’s - oh. I do not recall you informing me that you were intending on having company for the night.” 

A tall, slender blonde man hovers in the doorway, staring at Alec with equal parts vague intrigue and thinly veiled distaste. Everything about him exudes taste and elegance, but there is a familiarity to his features that itches at the back of Alec’s mind. He knows the man’s face, has never met him, he doesn’t think, but knows him in the distant way that one knows legends and heroes.  

“The tickets are all yours, Woolsey.” Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off Alec. “I am afraid it appears I will be a little preoccupied, I have some unexpected business to take care off. Enjoy the play on my behalf.”  

Woolsey Scott. The founder of the Praetor Lupus. 

This isn’t funny anymore. 

“Of course.” The corner of Woolsey’s mouth ticks up. None of the documentation around him could have ever come close to capturing the real thing. Magnus had mentioned him a few times, off handed, but Alec can see how they would have gotten along. “Don’t wait up, my dear. I certainly won’t be.”

Just as quickly as he had come sweeping in, Woolsey is gone, and Alec is left to sit glued to the floor while Magnus picks him apart by gaze alone. After a few uncomfortable minutes where the distant ticking of a grandfather stirs Alec a little mad, a chair slides across the polished floor, coming to a stop seamlessly next to Alec. The magic around his hands and feet disappear. He can wiggle his toes again. 

“I kindly suggest that you take a seat.” Magnus states in a tone that leaves no room for a refusal. “I have a few questions that need answering.”

TBC on AO3

#incorrect-malec #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[malecsecretsanta]

The Malec Secret Santa 2020 Big Reveal Post

Ho Ho Ho!

It’s time to conclude the fifth edition of the Malec Secret Santa :)

Hope you’ve all had a lovely Christmas and that you’ve enjoyed all the amazing gifts that were posted!

May these gifts be little lights of distraction during these difficult times for everyone <3

The fantastic @cakelanguage​​, @sivan325​​ and @whatanexcitingfewdaysithasbeen​ deserve extra love and gratitude for being wonderful Christmas Angels this year in helping me out to create last minute gifts, making sure no one would be left empty handed this year! Thank you darlings, I really appreciate that you wanted to help me out in a pinch! <333

If you’d like, you can still add your works to the AO3 Collection! Just poke me if you do, and I’ll add the link to the Tumblr gift post as well. You can also repost your gift(s) to your own Tumblrs now, of course :)

That’s all from me in terms of service announcements, see you all again next year! #MalecForever, after all.

-x- Leonie (leetje)

*****

Are you all ready to find out who your secret santas were? :D

Most of you should know the drill by now. The list is in alphabetical order. The easiest way to find whom your secret santa was, is by hitting Crl+F and then search for your own Tumblr name :D

@aceon-ice made a gift for art-in-the-sunlight - gift here

@adaline-blooms made a gift for tobythewise - gift here

@adhdposterchildoftheyear made a gift for liminalmess - gift here

@antisocial-af made a gift for magnus-the-maqnificent - gift here

@arialerendeair made a gift for sivan325 - gift here

@arsistiel made a gift for starsdahb - gift here

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@magnus-the-maqnificent made a gift for cardiamachina - gift here

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@moonlight-breeze-44 made a gift for im-better-than-chocolate - gift here

@mostlyvoidpartiallysass made a gift for adhdposterchildoftheyear - gift here

@myulalie made a gift for lalelilolusworld - gift here

@nancyloumm made a gift for starsarefallinglikerain - gift here

@ninwrites made a gift for incorrect-malec - gift here

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@skylar102 made a gift for facialteeth - gift here

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@starsdahb made a gift for royaltybane - gift here

@suchawannabe56 made a gift for lillytalons - gift here

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@the-ghost-of-william-heronadale made a gift for sian265 - gift here

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@tobythewise made a gift for secretphilosopherwitch - gift here

@whatanexcitingfewdaysithasbeen made a gift for forensicsisabelle - gift here

@whatanexcitingfewdaysithasbeen​ made a gift for mostlyvoidpartiallysass - gift here

Go forth and tacklehug your no-longer-secret santa! They definitely deserve some loving!

#malecsanta20 #malec #malec forever #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @kohdono!

#kohdono #malecsanta20 #*art20 #*gifts20

[malecsecretsanta]

HO HO HO

This upcoming Holiday season there will be a FIFTH edition of the Malec Secret Santa gift exchange, to make Christmas a little extra special for us all, and in these strange and difficult times we could all use a little more joy and happiness in our lives. What better way to spread love and kindness by the act of gift-giving :)

How it works

You MUST have a Tumblr

Sign up with what you want to make ( e.g. fic or fanmix)

Also list what you’d like to receive (e.g. gifsets, drawings)

Sign ups are done via a form

»» Sign Up here! ««

SIGN UP DEADLINE: SUNDAY OCTOBER 25TH (Midnight Pacific Time)

After that assignments will be send out to everyone by email on October 26, and then you’ll have seven weeks to make gifts for the person assigned to you :)

Gift Giving Guidelines

Just in case it isn’t clear to anyone, all the gifts have to be MALEC-related!

You can sign up to create & receive one or several of the following options:

Fic/Drabbles

Drawings

Edits/Manips

Gifsets

Fanmixes/Fanvideo

>> Read the full guidelines here

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: SUNDAY DECEMBER 13TH (Midnight Pacific Time)

On Christmas Eve/Day all the gifts will be posted for everyone! On Boxing Day it will be revealed who made gifts for whom, then after that you’re of course free to post the gifts you made to your own Tumblr :)

If you still have questions, don’t hesitate to ask them!

So what are you waiting for? Sign up now! Gift someone a Very Malec-y Christmas this year!

Please help signal boost this post, it would be much appreciated :)

|| Sign Up || Guidelines || Follow || Ask ||

#malec #malec forever #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malecsanta20

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, cuubism!

For @cuubism. I tried to put as many of your likes into this as I could! I hope you enjoy this little sort of case fic <33

Read On AO3

*****

The Curse or the Cure

Magnus and Alec are halfway home from an impromptu trip to the pizzeria around the corner when Alec’s phone rings.

“Hello?” Alec answers, fishing the phone out of his pocket. He’s supposed to be off the rest of the day, the only people who’d be calling him would be Izzy or Jace.

“Alec.” Sure enough, it’s Izzy on the other line.

“Is everything okay?” Alec asks.

Magnus raises a silent questioning eyebrow from where he’s walking at Alec’s side.

“We just received a distress call from the patrol out in Brooklyn.” Izzy tells him, “I’m heading out with a team but you’d get there faster.”

Alec puts up a hand to get Magnus to stop walking, listening to Izzy rattle off an address right around the corner from where they’re at.

Alec is about to hang up when Izzy’s voice changes.

“And Alec, be careful,” she says, voice sounding unsettled. “It sounded bad. I don’t think it was just demons.”

“I’ll be careful Iz,” he murmurs, “promise.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies, “I’ll meet you there.”

When Alec hangs up Magnus sends him a small smile. “Off to save the world on your day off?”

Alec huffs a small laugh, unsheathing his seraph blade, “demons don’t take a day off.”

“Portal?” Magnus asks, already summoning magic to his fingertips.

“Actually,” Alec says, “would you come with? Iz said it wasn’t good.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, sweeping his hands down and creating a portal. “Darling, if you thought I was going to let you walk into a patrol gone wrong without backup, you don’t know me well enough.”

Alec laughs, grabbing Magnus’ wrist as he steps though the portal.

The laugh quickly dies in his throat when they step out into chaos.

The street is flooded with screams of pain and writhing Shadowhunters. It is unlike anything Alec has ever seen before. None of the patrol is left standing.

Alec hurries closer, Magnus on his heels. He kneels down next to Dominic, the patrol lead, Magnus doing the same on his other side.

“What the hell happened?” Alec demands while Magnus places a hand onto Dominic’s chest to try and heal him.

“Ambushed,” Dominic gets out between pained groans, “a warlock.”

Shit. A rogue warlock willing and strong enough to take out an entire team of Shadowhunters did not bode well for them.

Alec sees Magnus’ hands still at Dominic’s words. When Alec meets his eyes there’s something he can’t quite read warring there.

“It’s poison,” Magnus says, voice ragged. He gets to his feet, taking several steps away from Dominic’s body.

Are you sure? Alec starts to ask but cuts himself off when he sees genuine fear flit across Magnus’ face for a brief second.

He wants to reach out to Magnus, to do something to reassure him, but Alec doesn’t know what the hell is going on here and if this is poison, they likely don’t have the time for comfort.

“Do you remember anything about the warlock?” Alec asks, turning away from Magnus with some difficulty, “defining features.”

“Tattoos up his arm,” Dominic gasps out, “slight Italian accent.”

Magnus freezes again, voice hard when he speaks, “Angelo. The bastard. He’s banned from the Western Hemisphere.”

“We need to find him,” Alec says.

Magnus shakes his head, “We need to get these people back to the Institute first. This poison,” he falters, “it’s slow acting but extremely painful and dangerous. We need the antidote. Quickly.”

***

Even once Izzy arrives with backup, it takes them a good half hour to drag the entire patrol through a portal to the Institute infirmary.

Alec stands in the hall outside the infirmary, arms crossed, watching his Shadowhunters writhe on the beds. Medical staff flits from bed to bed but they are of little use. If this is poison like Magnus had said, the only thing that is going to help them is the antidote.

Magnus is pacing the hall Alec is standing in, on the phone with Catarina. Alec tries not to eavesdrop, but Magnus has seemed off since they found the patrol.

“I thought I’d gotten rid of it,” Magnus was muttering down the line, hands gesturing wildly, “I know—I—yes, I have everything at the loft. But—“ Magnus cuts himself off when he sees Alec watching him.

There’s a split second where Alec thinks about looking away and pretending he wasn’t listening. He doesn’t.

“Just go to the loft,” Magnus says into the phone, hanging up and then looking at Alec carefully.

Alec takes a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

Something flashes across Magnus’ face, too fleeting for Alec to understand what it means. He doesn’t answer the question.

“Cat is on her way to the loft,” he says instead. “We have the ingredients to prepare the antidote for the patrol. But we need to find Angelo. There’s a good amount of hideouts he could be squatting at—“

“Give me the locations,” Alec cuts him off.

This is a deflection method Alec has grown used to from Magnus. He starts moving a thousand miles a minute and doesn’t stop for air. Alec isn’t sure why this is hitting Magnus so close to home, but it obviously is.

“Alexander,” Magnus starts and then trails off. His voice loses some of the tension it had when he says Alec’s name but he still looks wound tight, fingers rubbing together absently.

“Magnus, you can’t do two things at once,” Alec says gently. He wants to reach out and still Magnus’ hands, to twine their fingers together and ask Magbus if he’s okay and get an honest answer. He knows that won’t happen though. “I’ll call you when we locate him. I promise,” he says instead.

Magnus seems to deflate just a little bit and nods. “Okay,” he snaps his fingers and a paper appears in his hand. He hands it to Alec.

***

Alec puts the whole Institute to work with the list of locations Magnus had given him so he’s not surprised when it only takes them a couple of hours to locate Angelo.

“We’re pretty sure he’s at the safehouse in Queens,” Izzy says, sidling up beside Alec and handing him the paper with Magnus’ list.

Alec takes the paper, folding it and putting it in his pocket. He can’t get Magnus’ panic out of his head.

He almost wants to just put together a team and go get Angelo himself, but he’d promised Magnus he’d call him. And from the way Magnus had said Angelo’s name, it seems they know each other quite well. Logically, Magnus is the only one of them who knows what they might be walking into. Despite that, Alec still wants to protect him.

He sighs and pulls out his phone, “Start getting a team together,” he tells Izzy, “I’m going to call Magnus and let him know.”

“Alexander.” Magnus’ voice sounds distracted when he answers the phone.

“We found him,” Alec says, “he’s still in New York. Queens.”

Alec hears Magnus put something down on the other line, “Of course he is. The man’s always been dramatic. He’s probably waiting for a fight.”

So Alec had been right. They do know each other well.

“Magnus,” Alec starts carefully, “about Angelo. It would be nice to know what we’re getting into here.”

He doesn’t voice the part about how Magnus had looked scared of Angelo. He’s not sure Magnus would appreciate Alec pointing that out.

There’s a tense moment of silence in which Alec almost regrets asking the question.

“We were friends,” Magnus finally says, “but that was a long time ago.”

“And he’s looking for a fight?” Alec prompts.

Magnus chuckles dryly, no humor in the sound. “Let’s just say that our friendship didn’t end on the best terms.”

“Did it have to do with the poison?” Alec asks before he can stop himself.

Magnus goes quiet on the other line. Alec can hear what must be Catarina moving around in the background of the call.

“The poison,” Magnus finally says, “is my fault.”

“What?” Alec asks, pausing his pacing in the hallway.

“I developed it,” Magnus says, voice hard.

“You developed the poison Angelo used,” Alec repeats slowly, brain trying to catch up with the implications of the statement, “that’s why you knew what it was so quickly.”

“Yes,” Magnus confirms, voice barely a whisper now. Alec can hear the guilt in it even over the phone.

It is at odds with the kind of person Alec would imagine would develop a poison that was slowly and painfully killing Alec’s people in the next room. It isn’t at odds with the kind of person Alec knows Magnus is though. Here and now.

“Magnus—“ Alec starts, only to be cut off quickly.

“It was a mistake.” Magnus says. “And I—we don’t have the time to talk about this right now. The Shadowhunters need to get the antidote in the next few hours if we want them to survive and I haven’t got a clue what Angelo’s plan here is but I’d rather not find out.”

Alec bites his lip. It’s only been a few hours since Alec last saw Magnus but he sounds so tired .

“We can go in ourselves,” Alec suggests even though he already knows Magnus isn’t going to agree with that.

“Cat’s got the rest of this antidote handled. I’ll meet you in Queens,” Magnus says, ignoring the offer, and Alec sighs internally.

“Okay,” he agrees even though it’s not.

***

Magnus is dressed to kill when he meets with Alec and his team. He has on the same shirt he’d had on earlier but he’s exchanged the plain black blazer with a studded mauve coat and an overabundance of jewelry that he hadn’t had on before.

His face is hard when he steps through the portal but he sends Alec a thin smile when he sees him looking at him.

“There are wards up,” Alec tells him as he walks over.

“Not a problem,” Magnus says, “Angelo was never very good at wards.”

Alec wants to ask what Magnus and Angelo used to do together, dealing with poisons and making wards for safe houses but now is not the time.

Magnus turns to the team of Shadowhunters Alec had brought with him for the mission. Jace, Izzy, and Clary stand at the front of the group. Magnus looks at them and then to Alec.

Alec nods at him. Magnus knows by now that Alec doesn’t mind when he briefs his Shadowhunters but he always asks permission first.

“As soon as I bring the wards down, Angelo is going to know. I’m going to try and block his magic as fast as possible but we have to be careful. The poison is magically administered. If you see magic coming at you, get out of the way.”

Magnus’ gaze flicks back to Alec’s for a brief moment and he looks like he’s going to say something but he just lets out a breath instead. Alec realizes beltatedly that Magnus might be worried about him .

Magnus walks by Alec and up to the building. Alec lets himself reach out and brush a hand over his back as he walks by. Magnus’ seems to let himself relax into it for a touch of a second.

The next second he’s stepped out of Alec’s space, every inch the powerful high warlock. Alec watches as he makes a downward motion with his hands, similar to the way he brings down the wards at the loft.

There air ripples with electricity and the ozone smell of magic and then Magnus drops his hands. He doesn’t wait, just walks straight into the building without hesitation.

Alec goes after him, motioning for the team to follow behind.

“Do you have a plan?” Alec asks quietly, adjusting his grip on his bow out of habit as they walk a narrow hallway into the safehouse.

“Does getting the bastard the hell out of my city count?” Magnus asks. Alec doesn’t fail to notice that there’s poorly hidden fury in his voice.

Before he can reply Magnus is yelling “duck!” and pushing Alec down. Alec drops quickly as a burst of magic whizzes over their heads.

Magnus stands quickly, hand glowing blue and throwing his own burst of magic in the direction the other magic had come from.

Alec stays crouched on the ground. “Everyone okay?”

“We’re good,” Jace calls from behind him and Alec nods to himself, standing.

“Well he’s not hiding, at least,” Alec says.

Magnus lets out an amused huff, the first thing that has sounded even near positive since he’d gotten here. Alec sends him a small smile.

Magnus starts forwards again, this time more cautiously. Alec follows his lead, muscles tense and ready to spring into action.

The hallway opens up into a large room. It’s mostly empty save for a shelf against one wall. It’s obvious Angelo hasn’t been here long at all.

The man in question stands in the center of the room. Both his hands glow red with magic. His mouth turns up into a slow smile when he sees them, sending an uneasy feeling into Alec’s gut.

“Magnus Bane,” he says, voice echoing in the room, “What a lovely surprise. Did you enjoy my little gift? You’ve always enjoyed a bit of poison haven’t you?”

Magnus falters next to him and Alec clenches his jaw, torn between wanting to protect Magnus’ honor and not knowing the full story.

“They’ll be dead soon,” Angelo goes on. He ignores Alec and the rest of the team in favor of speaking directly to Magnus, “But you already know that. You—“

Alec doesn’t hesitate this time. He might not know the full story, but he does know that revealing Magnus is behind the poison in front of a team of Shadowhunters who had just seen their friends in unimaginable pain back at the Institute is not going to end well. Alec trusts Magnus, knows the kind of person he is. His Shadowhunters will take any excuse to vilify him. He steps swiftly in front of Magnus, letting an arrow fly.

Angelo’s sentence is cut off by a sharp cry of pain as the arrow lodges itself into his leg. It gives Magnus enough time to recover and he’s hurled a binding spell at Angelo before Alec can make another move.

Tendrils of magic wrap around Angelo’s body, rendering him immobile and unable to use magic. Alec freezes but doesn’t let down his guard.

Angelo just smiles despite his current state. “Is this any way to treat a friend?”

Magnus ignores his comment. “I told you if you came back here that I’d send you straight to the Spiral Labyrinth.”

“Oh dear, so dramatic.” Angelo replies.

“What do you want?” Alec demands.

Angelo turns to look at him, only now acknowledging he’s there. “It’s very simple, Shadowhunter ,” he says, a hatred in his eyes that has Alec holding his breath, “I just want to remind Magnus that he can play nice with you Nephilim all he wants.” His gaze cuts over to Magnus, who is standing stock still, “But he’s still one of us. Always will be.”

Anger lights like fire in Alec. He imagines pulling his seraph blade out and  stabbing it straight into Angelo’s side, no mercy. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to go through with it.

Magnus acts in the same moment, reaching out and conjuring a portal that Angelo disappears through. When the portal closes, Magnus quickly sends a fire message and then brushes his hands off theatrically.

He spins on his heel to face the team of Shadowhunters standing behind them and grins. “Well I think that’s done, why don’t we go save your friends?”

It isn’t until everyone turns and starts shuffling back out of the safehouse that Magnus’ posture betrays his true feelings.

He looks like a puppet whose strings have been cut, shoulders slumping and hands balled into fists.

Alec walks up to him and places a careful hand on his shoulder. For a moment, when Magnus turns to look at him he looks heartbreakingly fragile.  

Alec opens his mouth but Magnus has already pulled away, following behind the line of Shadowhunters.

Alec lets out a silent breath and follows him.

Later. They’ll talk about it later.

***

Once Alec has briefed the Institute on the situation he makes his way down to the infirmity to check on the patrol.

Magnus and Cat had administered the antidote while Alec had given his briefing so the infirmary is quiet when he gets there. He stands in the doorway, watching Cat flit from bed to bed along with infirmary staff. Shadowhunters are sitting up in bed now, chatting across the room or sleeping soundly.

It’s a much better atmosphere than it had been only a few hours ago when all of them had been screaming in pain.

“Hey boss!” Dominic calls out when he notices Alec in the doorway.

Alec smiles, stepping into the room. “How are you feeling?”

He pretends not to notice Magnus watching him from the corner of the room.

Dominic leans back into the pillows in the bed. “Exhausted, but alive.” He gestures to where Magnus and Cat stand, “all thanks to them.”

It’s a win, Shadowhunters in his Institute acknowledging the Downworlders who save their asses time and time again. When Alec turns to share the moment with Magnus and Cat it’s to see Magnus hurrying out the door.

He excuses himself from Dominic and makes his way over to Cat. It’s interesting, their relationship. Alec respects Cat and he hopes she respects him as well. But it’s more than that. They share a common trait in that they love Magnus Bane.

“He said he told you,” Cat says without preamble when Alec walks over.

Alec sighs. “A little.”

Cat smiles sadly at him, “take him home.”

Alec nods.

***

Magnus goes straight for the drinks cart when they get back home. Alec watches the tense line of his back for a long moment before he walks up behind him.

“Magnus.” Alec waits until Magnus turns to face him and then brings his hands up to cup both sides of Magnus’ face. “It’s okay. Everyone is okay.”

Magnus shakes his head minutely between Alec’s hands. “It’s not okay.”

“Talk to me,” Alec murmurs, sweeping his thumbs over Magnus’ cheeks and searching his eyes. “Let me help.”

Magnus releases a shaky breath, turning his head so Alec’s hands fall from his cheeks. “Damn you,” he mutters. Alec isn't quite sure he’s supposed to have heard it.

Magnus places his glass loudly back onto the drinks cart. He doesn’t look back at Alec. “You can’t help.”

Alec feels helpless, both wanting to step forwards and gather Magnus into his arms and being worried he’ll be pushed away even further if he tries.

“Okay,” Alec says quietly. It’s hard, realizing that sometimes he can’t fix things. It’s what Alec does. He fixes the problem. It’s how he’s taken care of Izzy and Jace all his life. But with Magnus he’s found that sometimes fixing something isn't an option. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Alec reaches out and slips his fingers between Magnus’. He tugs only slightly but Magnus jerks forwards suddenly. Their joined hands get crushed between their chests and Magnus’ forehead falls to Alec’s shoulder. His free hand smooths up and down Magnus’ lower back.

They stay like that for a long time. Magnus isn’t quite crying, but he takes small shuddering breaths into Alec’s shirt that break Alec’s heart.

When he finally lifts his face, he looks wrecked. Alec isn’t sure what to say so he brings the hand still tangled with Magnus’ to his lips and kisses Magnus’ knuckles.

Magnus shudders but doesn’t pull his hand away.

“God, I—I’m sorry,” he gets out quietly.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alec says just as softly.

“I almost got half of your Institute killed. Of course I need to apologize.”

Alec is shaking his head even before Magnus can finish the sentence. “ You didn’t poison them. In fact you caught the guy who did and saved everyone with the antidote.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if I hadn’t made the damn thing in the first place,” he says bitterly, “I was young and I was angry. And I did things I’ll never forgive myself for.”

“Magnus—“ Alec starts, but it seems like some sort of dam has been broken in Magnus because words keep spilling out.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I wanted my father’s approval. I wanted so badly for him to think I was worth it. For someone to be proud of me for once.” Magnus lets out a laugh that holds no humor, “And he was. Fuck, he was proud of me. And that’s when I’d realized what I’d done.”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Magnus’ hand.

“But it was too late,” Magnus says, “I'd been working on it with Angelo so he knew about it and he refused to wipe out all records of it like I wanted.”

“So you came up with an antidote instead.” Alec guesses.  

Magnus nods. “I haven’t had to use it in years. It caught me off guard. Reminded me of a past I’d rather forget.” He finally looks at Alec for the first time in the conversation. “A past I’d have preferred you didn’t know about.”

There’s hesitance and something like resignation in Magnus’ face now. As if he’s ready for Alec to hate him. As if that was even remotely possible.

“Magnus,” I don’t care about your past. I love you. Here and now. I know who you are. I see it everyday.”

Magnus scoffs but Alec isn’t finished.  He’ll be damned if he doesn’t show Magnus what everyone else sees when they look at him.

“I watch you choose good every single fucking day. You saved my people today. Hell you’ve saved us hundreds of times. You help every person that shows up at your door. You made a mistake. That doesn’t define you.”

Magnus’ eyes are wet by the time Alec finishes and he’s blinking rapidly. This time it’s Alec who is pulled into a hug by their joined hands.

“I love you.” Magnus mutters into Alec’s chest and Alec presses a kiss to his temple. He’s not sure he’s convinced Magnus but this is a start.

“I love you too.”

#cuubism #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, antisocial-af!

For @antisocial-af: (HAPPY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!)

*****

Why did I even agree to this in the first place?

Alec wondered to himself as he checked his watch again for the tenth time in the last five minutes.

His date was late, exceedingly late in fact, and he was beginning to feel pathetic; the waitress had been giving him a look of pity for the last half an hour.

Alec had begrudgingly agreed to be set up on a blind date by his sister.  It had become the general consensus among his siblings that he needed to get out and finally meet somebody.

“You need to get laid big brother.” Isabelle had said with a smirk as Jace had laughed.

“She’s right man.” Jace had agreed wholeheartedly. “At the very least it’d lighten you up a bit.”

Alec had been incredulous.  “This is really none of your business and I don’t think—”

“I know someone!” Isabelle piped in suddenly with a grin.

“See!  Problem solved Alec.  We’ll get you laid soon enough.” Jace had said clapping Alec on his back.

Why he had eventually agreed to the blind date was anyone’s guess, even Alec himself was questioning it, especially since the guy had apparently decided not to show.

“That’s it.  I’m—”

“I am so sorry I’m late!”

Alec looked up startled.  In front of him was what had to be the most uniquely beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on.  His hair was swept up in an elegantly wavy coif with blue highlights, his eyes were traced in black eyeliner with some kind of shimmery eyeshadow that helped bring out the beautiful bronze of the man’s eyes.  His lips were plump with a slight pink gloss to them, which Alec wanted nothing more than to kiss.

Wait…what?

Alec shook his head and closed his eyes.

Get a hold of yourself Alec.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, finding his blind date looking at him with wide eyes.

“Look, you’re probably angry with me, which I totally get, but I have a very good excuse I swear—"

The man stopped rambling as Alec held up both his hands indicating that the other man should stop.

“You’re here now, which is all that matters, right?” Alec said straightening up and focusing his attention on his date.

The other man smiled softly at Alec and gently nodded his head.

“Right.  Let me formally introduce myself, I’m Magnus, Magnus Bane.”

“Alec.”

The two men shook hands and neither one could keep the smiles off their faces.

“Wow, Isabelle really hit the nail on the head with you.” Alec couldn’t help but say, feeling himself blush as his own words hit his ears.

The other man, Magnus, was quiet for a moment, looked unsure before a Cheshire grin spread over his face.

“Can’t say I heard as much about you, but I don’t think words could do you justice Alexander.”

Alec paused a moment, his full name coming from the man in front of him causing a shiver to radiate up his spine.

I like that.

Alec chuckled and smiled back at the man who seemed like such a force of nature, all he wanted was to try and contain it just for himself.

So, the two men chatted and laughed and drank together for the next couple of hours.  The waitress who had previously been looking at Alec with pity was now looking on at him with envy.  It felt really good he had to admit to himself.

Magnus was an impressive man.  He owned his own night club (he’d been helped out with a loan by his grandmother), but he’d been the one to turn it into a successful venture.  He was also an artist; painting was his main forte, but he also enjoyed writing poetry every now and again.

“Maybe one day you could show me a piece of your work.” Alec had said nonchalantly.

Smirking Magnus had replied with, “Maybe one day I’ll let you see my piece.  I’ve been told it’s quite impressive.”

Alec had nearly choked on his food at that.

“I didn’t—That’s not—”

“Alexander, relax,” Magnus had said reaching forward and clasping his hand over Alec’s. “I’m just flirting with you, no need to get flustered, though I must admit you’re even more adorable now than you were ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry gentleman, but we’re closing in five minutes.”  It was their waitress who did have guilty look on her face.

Magnus swiped the check from her before Alec even had a chance.

“It’s on me my dear Alexander.  I was late after all.”

Alec couldn’t stop the stutter that made its way out of his mouth as he tried to protest, but it was a losing battle.  The man before him had bewitched him.  Everything about Magnus Bane left him feeling hungry for more.  His sister sure knew how to pick guys.

They ended up exchanging numbers, promising each other to text when they made it home safely.

Magnus took Alec’s hand in his and placed a gentle kiss to the top of it.  Alec’s eyebrows were up to his hairline as Magnus looked up meeting his gaze.

“Goodnight, sweet prince.”

And in a flourish Magnus Bane was gone.

Alec was in a daze most of the way home.   He also had the biggest smile on his face.  Izzy definitely had outdone herself.

His phone rang suddenly, and he answered without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Alec?”

“Hey Isabelle, what are you—”

“Did Jason show up?”

Alec looked at his phone in confusion.

“Um, who’s Jason?”

“Shit, what an asshole, I should have known.”

“Iz you really need to figure out what you’re saying because I just had the best date I’ve had in years, and you’re kind of freaking me out here.” Alec said stopping.

“Well, I don’t know how that would have been possible Alec, because the guy I fixed you up with turned out to be a total prick and decided not to show.  I had been so scared you’d just sat there all night alone…"

“Ok Izzy wait a second.  So, if the guy who you set me up with didn’t show then who the hell did I have dinner and desert with for the last two and a half hours?”

“Oh, Alec I—I’m not sure.  Two and a half hours, really?  That’s Amazing!”

“Not the point Iz.” Alec said impatiently trying not to freak out.

“What was the guy’s name?”

“I don’t think that matters—”

“Alec just tell me the guy’s damn name.”

Sighing Alec shook his head.  “Magnus Bane.  That’s his name.”

There was a moment of silence before Isabelle started to scream on the other line.  Alec had to hold the phone out from his ear.

“Iz? Isabelle?  Can you stop screaming I kind of need my hearing.”

Laughing Isabelle stopped her yells and took in a few deep breaths.

“Alec, Magnus Bane?  He’s only one of New York’s most prominent eligible bachelors.  He frequents bars, restaurants, and night clubs sometimes. And he, Oh!  He must have seen you were a damsel in need of rescuing and decided—”

“Isabelle, I am not a damsel.”  Alec interrupted, feeling all the hope and excitement from the date drain from him.

There was another moment of silence before she answered.

“Alec listen, I didn’t mean anything by that.  Magnus Bane has very high standards when it comes to those he takes interest it, he might have a reputation of sorts but he really is a good guy, at least from what I understand.”

“Iz if you think that’s suppose to make me feel better—”

His phone buzzed and he noticed a text message from Magnus.

“Not home yet, but I can’t stop thinking about you.  Tonight, was fantastic, but I have a confession to make.  I wasn’t your blind date.  I saw you sitting there looking absolutely stunning and the idea of leaving you alone seemed cruel to me.  So, I took a chance and I am glad I did.  If you forgive me, I’d like to see you again.  What do you say?”

Alec felt the wind knock itself out of him, and he actually smiled.

“Isabelle, I’ll call you later I have a text to respond to.”

And without letting her respond he hung up.

#antisocial-af #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[malecsecretsanta]

"Different, Not Broken"

Merry Christmas, @emma-arthur!

It's fanart for your fic, map out a world. Hope you like it <3

#emma-arthur #malecsanta20 #*art20 #*gifts20

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, facialteeth!

For @facialteeth <3

When your soulmate loses something it gets sent to you and vice versa. For almost 400 years Magnus thought he would never have a soulmate until one day a pacifier shows up in his loft.

Read On AO3

*****

Who Are You Really?

Magnus stares at the pacifier in his hand. He doesn’t recall anyone bringing a baby to his loft recently. He doesn’t take in as many clients due to his position as High Warlock. He’s pretty sure he would remember a baby being in his home.

Thinking nothing of it, he sets it down on the side table in his living room and goes back to work. The Circle may be disbanding and shadowhunters are getting arrested, but there are still attacks happening in New York and the Institute has asked for his help in tracking the remaining Circle members.

Magnus snorts at his own phrasing. The Institute more so demanded that he help them. He of course made sure to set his price high for what he expected in return. The new Heads weren’t going to make him bend the knee to their every request. He was going to make life extremely difficult for the Lightwoods. They may have been forgiven by the Clave, but Magnus will never forget what they did. 

Without looking up from his cauldron, he reaches for an ingredient on his shelf, and instead of touching the vial he knows is there, a soft fabric brushes his hands. He whips his head up from the cauldron and stares at the blanket draped over the shelf. Not just any blanket, a child’s blanket- no an infant’s blanket. 

Magnus stares at the cloth for so long that his brewing potion is now ruined. He doesn’t care though, not when there’s something more important to focus on. With a shaky breath and hand, he grasps the blanket. It’s so incredibly soft in his hands, the fabric is perfectly suitable for a baby. Not just any baby though Magnus realizes, his soulmate’s. His soulmate must have just turned two, when most soulmates start to receive their partner’s lost items.

A sob escapes his lips and he presses the blanket to his face. 

Four hundred years, it took four hundred years for his soulmate to be born. Magnus had lost hope such a long time ago of ever getting one. Each year that passed with nothing showing up around had him made him lose hope. And after everything Camile did to him, the manipulation, the gaslighting, stealing his items, and pretending that they were soulmates, Magnus swore to never open his heart again.

Now here is this pacifier and blanket in his loft, letting him know that love will not be lost to him. That there is someone out there that is made for him. He scrunches his face at that thought. His soulmate is a baby, he shouldn’t be thinking like that, not yet. He still has many years to go, but Magnus will gladly wait as long as it takes to meet them.

“Oh god my soulmate is a baby and I’m a warlock,” he says out loud to no one. He glances in horror at the state of his apothecary. Everything is everywhere, the minute he forgets one thing it’s going to teleport to a baby. 

Potion forgotten, Magnus starts to clean his apothecary with precision, making sure that everything is labeled and in a proper place that is easy to find. The last thing he needs is to kill a baby, let alone his soulmate. 

“You better not die because of me,” he demands, glaring at the pacifier and blanket now resting in a case in his bedroom.

The first six years are filled with anxiety on Magnus’ end. His friends made fun of him at first, thinking he had finally gone mad. When he showed them the items, they rightly shut up and even occasionally helped him if he was looking for something for a potion. None of them wanting to be responsible for the death of his soulmate. This is the happiest they have seen him in a long time, if it means portaling at ungodly hours of the night to help him find something before it disappears then so be it.

Magnus did have fun “accidentally” losing toys for his soulmate to have and play with. He has no idea if his soulmate actually uses anything that he finds, he hopes that he does. While Magnus is sure that his soulmate’s parents spoiled their child to no end, Magnus was never one to not spoil someone important to him.

Somehow Magnus knew that the exciting thrill was never going to last. His soulmate would be eight now. He glances at the calendar on the wall, a big red circle around September 12th. Magnus had made sure to mark the date after he got a hold of his emotions all those years ago. 

He’s debating on what to send an eight year old child on their birthday. He’s been good about getting gender neutral toys for his soulmate, not knowing if they are a boy or girl. He’s going through a catalog on his phone when he spots a piece of paper on the coffee table. It's flipped upside down but Magnus can see some dark ink on the other side of the paper.

His soulmate must be doodling or drawing and forgotten something they made for their birthday. Magnus reaches out and grabs the paper flipping it over to inspect the drawing.

The paper bursts into flames by his magic.

No that- that can’t be right. Magnus just saw the paper wrong, he must have. There’s no possible way that was what he thought it was. He gets a second chance to see when another paper appears on his coffee table. He feels himself starting to fall apart as he reaches for the sheet and flips it over. He recognizes the marking anywhere.

Iratze

The paper once again catches fire from his barely contained magic. Magnus feels his throat tighten and his breath getting shorter. Shadowhunter. His soulmate is a shadowhunter, his mind provides. He feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. Of all the people living on this earth, his soulmate had to be of the people who have hunted and killed his kind for hundreds of years. 

Magnus barks out a wet laugh, immediately summoning a drink from his cart and downing it in one go. The glass is already refilled as he watches more papers appear on the table, more runes scribble on them. He doesn’t know how many times he refills his glass, but he got the desired effect he wanted: numbness. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s stared at those papers, drinking his pain away. He can barely sit up at this point with the alcohol flowing through his system. He can’t remember the last time he got this drunk. He’s been better since Camille, not wanting to go that far again. He hears the door to his loft open. Was he expecting guests? He doesn’t remember, doesn’t care. The intruder could rob him for all he cared.

“Well you look awfully dreadful,” a familiar British voice says. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring my calls and I had to take the long way in?” 

“Ragnor,” Magnus slurs, he tilts his head towards his friend. The small movement makes him nauseous, it takes everything in not to immediately stumble to the bathroom to throw up.

“What is it this time?” His friend sighs dramatically. Ragnor glances around the room, glaring at something out of his field of view. “Obviously something has upset you enough to drink almost your entire cart. Did Camille try and reach out to you?”

“No,” he says too quietly. He can already feel the emotions he’s tried to lock down start to bubble up. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Ragnor, his friend doesn’t need to worry about him. The man always has more important things to deal with than him. Still, his arm has a mind of its own and points to the coffee table.

“What, you were studying runes and decided that getting drunk would be easier?” Oh, he truly loves Ragnor, the old fool knows how to make him laugh even at his lowest of lows. 

“Not mine,” he manages to get out before tears start to fall. 

“Oh, old friend,” Ragnor whispers. He’s happy that he doesn’t have to explain more, his friend understanding what the papers mean. 

The couch dips beside him and an arm wraps around his shoulders. Magnus doesn’t even try to resist, he’s just so tired. He rests his head on Ragnor’s shoulder and cries. Damn the universe for dealing him this deck of cards. 

As his soulmate grows older, the less stuff they seem to misplace. Magnus would find it strange that he’s practically getting nothing, but at this point, he doesn’t care what the shadowhunter does with their life. 

He does, though, care about the number of arrows he’s been finding in his loft. 

Magnus glares at the vase he designated for arrow disposal and sees that it’s full. He has five more wrapped in a cloth in his hands. With a sigh he snaps his fingers and summons another vase, tossing them in. He doesn’t know why he’s keeping them, there’s really no point except to dump them at the Shadowhunter’s feet when they meet. Maybe even throw a few at them, he considers. 

There’s nothing on them so he figures that the shadowhunter is training. Though Magnus almost shudders at the thought that a child is already practicing how to use a weapon. His soulmate is only ten years old, surely Nephilim society would wait until their children are at least thirteen before making them train for hunting. 

“Stupid Nephilim, not keeping track of his arrows,” Magnus grumbles. “That’s almost thirty arrows in the past two months! I would like to think that a shadowhunter would at least know how to put arrows away after training and not leave them everywhere.”

“Do go easy on them, Magnus,” Ragnor snorts from the other room. “It’s not like they had a choice in what family and life they were born into.”

“They still have the option to run away,” he grumbles, knowing he’s being irrational.

“Surely you don’t want them to be homeless at ten years old?” Ragnor says, entering the room with two cocktails, handing one off to Magnus before plopping down on a chair. 

“Maybe,” Magnus whispers, he looks over at his friend and sees the raised brow. He rolls his eyes, “Okay I don’t, not really.”

Magnus knows he’s being unkind to his soulmate. But after everything in recent years with the Uprising and the Circle, it’s hard not to associate all shadowhunters into the same category especially when so many members of the Circle turned tail and came crawling back to the Clave. And the Clave willingly brought them back into their ranks with a slap on the wrist. Magnus rolls his eyes at the thought of Robert and Maryse Lightwood being allowed to look over the New York Institute as their punishment. Those two should have been put behind bars for all that they did for the Circle.

“Don’t you think you are being a bit dramatic?” Ragnor asks as Magnus takes the seat across from him. 

“Me? Dramatic? Hardly, my dear Cabbage,” he says dramatically, hand on his heart. 

“Right,” Ragnor snorts. “Just a gentle reminder that you are getting upset at a child for being born into a life he had no power over just like you with Asmo-”

“Don’t,” Magnus snaps, his glamor flickering for a moment. “Don’t ever compare my upbringing to that of a shadowhunter.”

Ragnor doesn’t say anything else which he kinda feels bad about. His friend also knows better than to talk about his father in such a casual way. The two fall into a tense silence as they go through the books scattered on the table. He sighs, glancing over at the two vases of arrows that he’s put in his library. Ragnor is probably right, but he’s not going to tell that to the old fool’s face.

Magnus will apologize later, right now he wants to focus on the spell they’re working on and not about the shadowhunter.

The day they do meet is not by fate, no, more so Clarissa Fairchild, who Magnus had almost forgotten about. It’s been a couple of years since her mother brought the frightened child to his doorsteps to wipe her memories. Seems the girl has fallen into shadowhunter hands after her mother goes missing. He wouldn’t put it past the rogue Circle members that were in his club a few nights ago to be the reason.

As he examines the ruby necklace, a memento of another time in his life, a shout echoes across the basement and something whistles past his ear. Turning around he sees a Circle member fall to the ground dead with an arrow to the heart. 

Magnus feels his own heart stop as he turns to watch the archer descend the staircase and make his way to the corpse, to search for life. Magnus feels his skin turn warm and start to tingle, like a lego piece snapping into place. A whisper of a no slips past his lips. The shadowhunter must feel the same as he stands from checking the body he stands straight. Hazel meets brown as the man, the shadowhunter, stares at him in shock.

It’s him.

Magnus doesn’t wait for the man to reach him. He summons a portal, ignoring Clary’s cry to wait, and steps back into his loft. His breathing is erratic and it feels like his heart is about to explode. 

His soulmate is here, in New York. What is Magnus going to do? He can’t leave his post as High Warlock, not with Circle members making a reappearance. His people need him to protect them. Over the blood pulsing in his ears, he hears a cry, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. Reaching out with his magic he feels that his hideout has been infiltrated. Dammit, he shouldn’t have left this place for that girl. 

Magnus can worry about the ache in his chest later, his people need his help. 

He doesn’t even wait for the Circle members to notice him, magic blasts out of his hands attacking any person who dares to enter this safe haven. When he finds out who leaked the location, he’s going to ban them from New York. He doesn’t have use for someone who would rat out his own people. 

“Your magic is strong, warlock,” the Circle member taunts. “Much stronger than that horned warlock I killed this morning.”

“Elias,” he says solemnly. He throws a ball of fire at the man who easily dodges it. They circle around each other, the man’s grin never leaving.

“So that was his name, lucky he sold you out before I took his warlock mark,” the man laughs.

Magnus knows he shouldn’t let his anger get the best of him, but he still finds himself lashing out at the Circle member, trying to disarm him. The man's grin turns even more sinister and something in his stomach tightens.

“Cats eyes,” he points out. Magnus didn’t even realize his glamor had dropped. “Would be a nice addition to my collection.”

Before Magnus can reply an arrow sings past him and lands in the man’s leg making him stumble. Magnus doesn’t wait for him to recover and deals a finishing blow. The Circle member collapses on the fallen bookshelf and Magnus feels like he’s frozen. That feeling in his stomach wasn’t from the Circle member, it was from him.

Magnus spins and sees the same shadowhunter from the club stand there, bow still raised, panic in his eyes. The man releases a breath and lowers his bow, eyes rake over the Circle member’s body before turning to Magnus. Magnus steps back, magic sparking at his hands ready to fight. 

The man opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something but nothing comes out. His eyes show only concern and worry, but that can’t be right, no shadowhunter would ever look at him like that. He glances at Magnus’ hands and the look disappears to something more neutral, closed off but not before Magnus catches a glimpse of pain.

“Alec!” A male voice shouts from down the hall, Alec glances behind him taking his eyes off of Magnus. The man must have a death wish for taking his eyes off of him. Magnus could easily take him out now, but his body won’t let him. “That’s the last of them.”

The shadowhunter, or Alec, nods his head and turns towards Magnus again, “We should go join the others.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Shadowhunter,” he bites back, hoping to get a reaction out of the man, but Alec doesn’t even flinch, just nods his head again.

“Apologies,” Alec says, turning around and leaving the library but halts, looking at something on his left. Magnus follows his gaze and realizes he’s looking at the multiple vases of arrows he’s kept over the years. Alec’s face stays blank but the grip on his bow tightens before he continues his way out of the living room.

Strange, Magnus thinks. He thought the shadowhunter would have demanded Magnus listen to him or even drag him to where everyone else is. Instead he’s letting Magnus choose to go with him, giving him the option to run tail if he wanted. 

Of course, Magnus won’t do that, he realizes with a sigh. He doesn’t know how many of his people made it out alive, all of them probably scattering the second the Circle members entered the hideout. He’ll need to notify friends and any families of the fallen here. 

With a wave of his hand, Magnus rids the loft of any dead circle members and teleports their bodies to the ocean. Let the sharks have their fun with them, he doesn’t care. In another wave, he teleports the bodies of the fallen warlocks to another safe haven he has in New York and a fire message to Catarina about what happened and where she needs to go.

When Magnus enters his living room he catches Alec with his head down and a girl with long dark hair rubbing a hand up and down his arm looking at him with concern. Something in his chest aches and presses a hand to his heart. Is that what Alec is feeling? He hates it. He doesn’t want to feel what the shadowhunter is feeling. 

He must be projecting his emotions because Alec flinches, pressing a hand to his chest and looks up at him. Again the pain that he sees disappears by that blank look. The girl catches Alec’s change and looks over at him and sends Magnus the most heated glare he’s ever received. 

He doesn’t have time to deal with that. He puts on his High Warlock persona and makes a show of his magic. Clary, to no surprise, is as stubborn as her mother and refuses to leave without getting her memories back. So he tells them what they all have to do to get them back. None of them argue to his surprise, though the blonde boy tries but is stopped by Alec with a hand on the shoulder. 

The summoning goes off without a problem. All of the shadowhunters listen to his explanation of how the ritual works and that they must not let go of each other’s hands. When Magnus explains that they must hold hands, the sister, Isabelle, moves into a position that forces Alec and him to hold hands. Magnus tries not to let his frustration show and accepts the positions. 

The second he and Alec’s hands touch, it’s like the final piece of their connection is sealed. He hears Alec let out a gasp and the hand in his grips tight before loosening. Magnus looks at Alec and the shadowhunter is not even glancing at him, he continues to stare at the wall opposite of him. Magnus feels an incredible sorrow fill his chest that makes him want to curl up and cry. 

Alec shows no outward sign of what he’s really feeling and something pokes at his heart that this is not the first time that Alec has had to mask his emotions. He shakes off the feeling, looking away from Alec to see everyone else staring at him waiting, though Isabelle is still glaring at him. 

The demon asks for a memory of the ones they love the most. Of course, his is Ragnor, his oldest and closest friend. Jace, who he finds out is Alec’s parabatai, and Isabelle’s are of Alec, which warms his heart or well maybe not his, he looks over at Alec and sees the soft smile on his face as the shadowhunter sees himself reflected in the tornado of smoke in the center. He doesn’t even catch what Clary’s memory was, too enraptured by the kindness shining in his soulmate’s eyes.

When the summoning is over, Clary collapses and is caught by Jace. He scoops the unconscious girl and leads her out of the loft with Isabelle, a quiet thanks as they pass him, leaving Alec and Magnus alone in the room. Alec hasn’t looked up from his hands since they let go, rubbing the hand that was entwined with his.

“Thank you for helping us,” Alec speaks softly. 

“I didn’t do it for you,” he says.

“I know.” Alec finally looks up from his hands and there’s a small smile on his face. “I’ll let you be. Have a good night, Magnus.”

The shadowhunter doesn’t wait for his response and rushes out the room to catch up with his family leaving Magnus alone. 

Alone.

Something that Magnus has been used to for decades now. His heart had been protected under a lock and key for so long and then Alec, this shadowhunter, his soulmate had to barge in and rip the lock off the cage. 

Magnus doesn’t want to feel like this. He liked it better when he was alone and didn’t have a soulmate, when he didn’t feel this much in his chest. The people he knows who have met their soulmates have told him about how they felt butterflies the first time they met their other half. That it felt like they were whole for the first time. Magnus doesn’t feel whole, he feels rage at the universe for giving him a shadowhunter as his soulmate.

Magnus doesn’t care how kind Alec may or may not be.

He will never fall in love with a shadowhunter.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time he saw Alec. He made it clear that he was not interested in getting to know the shadowhunter and thankfully Alec respected that. Again throwing Magnus off about his view of shadowhunters. 

Now Jace definitely fits that shadowhunter personality. Brash, rude, demanding, following red heads around like a lost puppy. Magnus rolls his eyes as the blonde’s gaze never leaves Clary’s as she word vomits in his living room fretting over Luke. Luke, who is in the state he’s in because of Clary, and Simon who couldn’t listen to simple orders. 

One would think that the girl would take her time to recover after getting all of her memories back. It seems that when she discovered the location of the cup, she snuck out of the Institute and met up with Sherman only to get kidnapped which led to a fight between a Beta and an Alpha werewolf which led to a new leader to the New York pack and-

Lilith, Magnus needs a drink.

He sends Simon and Jace off to fetch ingredients for him to help with the potion that would save Luke. Which leaves him and Clary to wait for them to return. Magnus focuses on the potion to make sure it doesn’t turn sour.

“So,” Clary says. “You and Alec, huh?”

Magnus almost drops a vial in the cauldron. “I beg your pardon?”

“You two are soulmates right?”

“And what gave you that idea?” He grits. 

“The stuff in Alec’s room,” she shrugs, wandering around the apothecary. “He has a whole bookshelf full of trinkets and vials exactly like the ones in here.” Clary pokes at the vials on his shelves, he almost snaps at her to stop. “It’s really incredible, you can tell he took great care of them all.”

“Is that so?” 

Clary nods, smiling as she picks up a vial off his table, inspecting it. “Yeah, he got really upset with me when I tried to pick up one of the items. Even went as far to wipe my finger prints off the thing. You can easily tell they’re his greatest treasure.” Clary’s smile turns to a frown. “Though last time I went to talk to him, he had put a bed sheet over the shelf.”

Oh. That information does something to his heart, like something has a vice grip around it now. Magnus shakes his head, clearing himself of the feeling, and goes back to the potion.

“Maybe he’s upset that he realized I’m a warlock,” he snorts.

“No, that wasn’t it. When I first saw it, he had this soft, delighted smile on his face. He had said that he hadn’t met the warlock who was his soulmate yet, but that he was eager to meet them. Said that he hoped his runes wouldn’t scare you away and that he could prove that he would care for you the way he cared for the items he got from you through your connection.” 

The vial that was in his hand drops to the table. Clary jumps at the sudden sound and turns to him in surprise.

Surely Alec didn’t think that way about him. He was an abomination with demon blood, Alec was a shadowhunter with angel blood. There’s no possible way they would work and yet, Alec knew his soulmate was a warlock before he even laid eyes on Magnus. Had a bookshelf full of the items he had lost over the years.

“Why?” He mutters quietly. “He’s a shadowhunter whose soulmate is a warlock. We’re not exactly the perfect match.”

“Why should that matter?” Clary asks. “It is clear that Alec doesn’t care that you’re a warlock. His mother is a different story though.” Clary rubs her arms up and down her arms like a shiver passed through her. The accurate reaction when talking about that woman. “I don’t understand how he just stands there while she speaks to him like that.”

“Like what?” His mouth feels dry, the blank face from a few days ago makes sense now. With a mother like Maryse Lightwood, finding out your son has a warlock soulmate probably didn’t go over well. He’s positive that Alec’s other siblings didn’t get that treatment, especially Clary and Jace who discovered they were soulmates. 

“Like he’s inferior for having a warlock as a soulmate. The first thing she did when she stopped by his room was berate him for still having that bookshelf, like he should be ashamed of himself for displaying who his soulmate was so openly and that she thought she told him to toss out anything that wasn’t useful.”

Magnus feels like there’s no air in the room. He leans forward on the table and stares into the bubbling concoction. 

With each new thing he learns about Alec, the less his view of him is so harsh. 

“That’s when he had covered the bookshelf,” Clary whispers, biting her lip. “Ever since their mother came back to the Institute that spark in Alec’s eye is gone.”

“Maryse does have the personality of a brick,” he chimes in hoping to lighten the mood. 

Clary doesn’t take the bait and instead looks at him with sympathy. “I don’t remember much about when we came here last, my memories are still a bit jumbled, but I know that when I woke up, no one knew where Alec went. Jace said to let it go, that he gets that way sometimes, but I couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right. When I found him he was on the roof, shooting arrows, one after the other until his hands were bleeding.”

“Why are you telling me this,” he rasps. His heart is beating out of control. Was Alec that hurt by his rejection? He was a shadowhunter, he should be relieved that his warlock of a soulmate doesn’t want to be with him. It wasn’t like Magnus would be upset if Alec left. Something about that thought makes his heart stop. 

“Because you both deserve happiness,” she says. “And I think Alec at least deserves a chance before you kick him to the curb.”

Magnus doesn’t know what to say to that. What could he say to that? For centuries he’s kept away from shadowhunters as much as possible and now he was fatefully connected to one. Why should he be the one to make that step? It wasn’t like Alec was taking the first step.

That’s because you rejected him before he could, his mind unkindly reminds him.

Magnus doesn’t get the time to ask more questions about Alec as Luke starts to seizure on the couch. He tells Clary what still needs to be done with the potion as he rushes over to Luke and pour his magic into the werewolf’s body to slow the spread of the poison. 

He loses track of time, just focusing on making sure that Luke makes it through this process. Just as he starts to feel his magic flicker, the door to his home bursts open and there’s a warm body catching him as he falls back.

Magnus huddles closer to the warmth, clasping his hand around the one that takes his. 

“Use my strength,” a voice whispers in his ear. “Take what you need.”

Magnus doesn't waste a second, siphoning magic from the person behind him. It’s like being shot with adrenaline, the other person’s energy practically shoving its way into his body. It’s definitely a first for him. Anytime Magnus has asked to share strength with someone, there is always a tug from the other person, not fully trusting Magnus to not abuse the power the other is giving him. Magnus feels no resistance from whoever he’s taking magic from. For someone to trust him that openly and blindly that they just give him their very essence brings tears to his eyes.

He’s going to have to thank whoever it is once he’s sure that Luke won’t die on him. Maybe even take them out to dinner as a thank you. As if they heard his thoughts, Jace and Simon rush through the living room and hand over the last ingredient to Clary who tosses it in the cauldron. Moments later, the trio are rushing over to the couch and pouring the potion down Luke’s throat.

The reaction is practically instant. Luke is no longer seizing on the couch and the dark veins around his wounds are receding. Magnus stops his constant flow of magic and drops. Or would have dropped, if the person behind him hadn’t caught him preventing him from making a fool of himself.

He just settles into the person’s arms and closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing. He used more magic than he had planned tonight and he feels exhausted. Not as exhausted as he thought he would be he realizes. That’s when he feels the hand still in his squeeze down and rub the back of his hand with their thumb. The person he’s leaning against begins to speak to Jace.

He jolts at the person’s voice, realizing just exactly who he is resting against. He opens his eyes and whips his head to Alec’s. Alec who is staring down at him with concern and worry that makes his heart ache. Magnus hurriedly lets go of their entwined hands and finds the strength to stand up. He doesn’t look back at Alec.

He asks Jace and Simon to help carry Luke to the guest room, ignoring the heat in his cheeks and the quick beatings of his heart. He hastily follows the men into the bedroom, making sure Luke is comfortable. He’s not ready to address that whole situation waiting for him in the living room.

As he gets Luke comfortable, his mind wanders back to Alec. He wonders if one of the others called Alec for help, but no, there would be no reason for them to notify Alec that he would need assistance. None of them but Clary knew about Luke’s deteriorating state and she was too busy making sure the potion was good to go when the others returned with the missing ingredient. 

He pauses fluffing Luke’s pillow and presses a hand to his chest as it aches. He had been so focused on healing Luke that he didn’t even notice his connection to Alec was so open. He doesn't feel much from Alec, but he understands now, why Alec knew to come to the loft. Magnus must have called out to him and Alec came running to help.

He doesn’t understand the Shadowhunter. Magnus couldn’t have made it more clear that he wasn’t interested in getting to know him. Yet, he still showed up, saved his life twice, helped Clary get her memories back and even assisted him in saving Luke, all without Magnus asking him to. He held Magnus close to his chest and let him practically drain him of his Nephilim energy to save Luke. The part of him that he kept under lock and key for so long slowly pours out and a warmth spreads through him at the fact that someone would do that for him without him asking, begging them to do so. It’s what he always wanted in a partner.

Why should the fact that him being a shadowhunter change that? Clary’s words from before also ring in his head, that Alec kept everything he lost and displayed them proudly in his room and told others about him, other shadowhunters. 

He’s hit with a yearning in his chest that makes him want to try. To maybe get to know Alec a bit and see what the shadowhunter is like. He’s never given Magnus a reason to think that he’s hostile. If anything, Alec has been giving him the space he’s asked for and was only dismissed when Magnus told him off. It’s Magnus who’s the one that’s been hostile. He should fix that, go talk to Alec. He should start by saying thank you.

Magnus excuses himself from the room and goes back out to the living room. Millions of thoughts race in his head, wondering what he should say, how he should say it. But when he reaches the living room, Alec is nowhere to be seen. Magnus steps towards the couch and looks at the entrance to his loft and doesn’t see the shadowhunter. 

His foot hits something on the floor. Magnus’ breath catches as he finds a small trash bin filled with bloody rags. He looks at his couch and sees that the blood stains are gone. 

Alec cleaned up the mess for him. Alec probably felt how depleted of magic he was and didn’t want him to exert himself anymore. The smell of lavender waffs through his living room, getting rid of the metallic smell of blood and decay.

He doesn’t know why that makes his eyes water. Alec did all of this without being asked to. He was being kind again, like he has been since he and Magnus first crossed paths. Magnus was just too stuck in his past to realize it. 

Not anymore, he decides, clenching his fists. He’s not going to let his past dictate his happiness anymore. He has a chance to be happy with the man who the universe has chosen to be his soulmate and he’s going to make the most of it.

Magnus is going to make this right, he has to.

#facialteeth #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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Malec Soulmate Instagram AU

In a world where everyone gets a Mark every time true love, platonic or romantic, comes in your life, Magnus Bane, famous actor and fashion icon, decides to adopt a cat as the holidays near. As his Mark comes in next morning, Magnus spends a truly magical holidays with his dorky soulmate, filled with smiles, love and happiness.

Happy Holidays @aceon-ice!

Hope you like it <3

#aceon-ice #malecsanta20 #*art20 #*gifts20

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Merry Christmas, eternallysilvermagnusandalec!

For @eternallysilvermagnusandalec. I hope you like it :)

Read On AO3

*****

Learning to Speak

The first time he sees Magnus, the first time Magnus turns to look at him, Alec loses his ability to speak.

That's never happened to him before. And it's not as if he always tells people what he's really thinking—he has secrets after all, very necessary secrets—but that's a calculation, a choice.

With this—Alec isn’t sure he could say anything to Magnus even if he wanted to. Not anything real, at any rate.

Magnus looks at him like he knows. And Alec wonders if, for all his flirtations and brash declarations, Magnus is holding something back, too.

Alec can’t know for sure. All he really knows is he wants to see more of him, so he can find out.

*

Alec knows better than to be here.

This is dangerous. Magnus’s loft is dangerous. Not because of Magnus, but because of what it means. The unraveling of a carefully walled-in life.

He’s about to say as much—well, not that, but some excuse as to why he has to leave before the aching in his heart can keep him here, when Magnus raises a finger to his lips.

And everything in Alec stills for the first time he can remember.

He can hear his heartbeat pounding louder in his ears, but everything else is—quiet. His vision narrows in on Magnus, the glitter under his eyes, the subtle vibrancy of him. And suddenly, he can’t remember why anything else is supposed to matter.

It’s quiet. It’s never quiet.

And Magnus is the opposite of a quiet person, but still everything in Alec settles before him. He thinks he might stop breathing if Magnus were to actually touch him.

Magnus doesn’t touch him. He does, however, watch Alec rather knowingly as he invites him to stay.

And Alec wants to stay. Here, in Magnus’s orbit. He knows he shouldn’t give in to that want, that it could tear out the cornerstone of everything he’s so carefully built.

He stays anyway.

*

Magnus is a flurry of sharpness and blue, his grace tempered by anger. Alec can’t tell if Magnus is angry at him or at the world or both. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

What does matter: Magnus is a sharply-moving thing that sets him alight. Alec so rarely feels alight. What matters even more: under Magnus’s quickfire anger is a deep distress that brings all of the lines of him into relief. Alec wants to hold him until he softens again.

Magnus stalks closer to him, the silk of his shirt shifting over his shoulders. His eyeshadow is dark and hollowing, his eyes glint in the dim light of the loft. He has such a natural grace to him, an ease of being that Alec’s admired since the first moment he saw him—though Alec’s starting to suspect that it’s not actually ease at all. Rather, Magnus’s existence is hard-won and tenuous, an act of continuous strength and balance and delicacy.

Alec admires him all the more, knowing that, feeling that, because his own life has also been built against a current, different from Magnus’s but precarious all the same.

And Alec can’t tell him—any of that. He can’t tell him that he’s so beautiful it makes Alec’s chest hurt. That the thought of leaving the loft, going home, leaves an aching cavern under his ribs. He can’t tell him, because this—him, Magnus, them, if there even is a ‘them,’—is the precarity threatening everything.

Magnus circles around him, leaning in close. Alec can smell his cologne, and has to close his eyes for a second to get his bearings. He feels Magnus’s magic brush his neck, so like a flame but cool to the touch. It feels like mourning for something they should have been able to have.

What about love? Magnus challenges.

And Alec thinks, despairingly, what about it? What about it, Magnus?

*

What about it.

Alec looks at Magnus at the far end of the aisle and thinks, I could love you. He’s never thought that about someone before, not in that way. He’s not sure he ever will again.

When he walks toward Magnus, his vision tunnels. All he can focus on is Magnus, the details of him: the streak of red in his hair, the velvet of his jacket, the glitter under his eyes. Everything else is so bright and loud—the shocked gasps, the murmurings, the very air.

When he kisses Magnus, it’s quiet. It feels like the first time he saw him, the first time he stayed the night in Magnus’s loft: that sudden clarity that shears through everything he’s constructed in his head. This is what matters: the way Magnus leans into him. The realness of his chest under Alec’s hands. The kiss feels like a declaration—of everything he hadn’t been able to say before, of everything he’ll want to say, someday.

So when he finds Magnus afterwards, it rolls so easily off his tongue, this simple request that seems to mean so much, that harkens back to their first moment together, and an Alec who had to stay silent for his own protection—but no longer.

“You wanna go get that drink sometime?”

*

It’s shockingly easy, once he starts doing it, for Alec to tell Magnus how he feels about him. It’s like the words spill forth from his mouth almost unbidden, like they can’t hide in the darkness any longer, and he wonders how he didn’t choke on them, before, when he was unable to speak.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve been with,” he says, almost started to find that it’s true. He doesn’t care about any of the complications. All he cares about is Magnus now, and how he feels about him, which is—well, he sort of still doesn’t want to think about just quite how big that feeling is.

Magnus looks sort of shocked, but allows Alec to kiss him, leaning up into the touch. And Alec says what he wanted to say when he first saw him, what he’s wanted to say every time after:

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Magnus melts, looking away over Alec’s shoulder with a sort of pleased embarrassment. “Flatterer.”

“I’m only stating the truth,” Alec tells him.

“Yes, you always are, aren’t you?”

Alec isn’t entirely sure what he means by that, but Magnus is looking up at him with a gentle, warm smile on his face, so it must be good.

Alec leans in to kiss him again.

*

Magnus is holding the omamori charm like his hands have forgotten how to hold. Like this is the first thing they’ve really needed to hold. Alec is starting to get concerned by his silence when Magnus looks up at him and says, “You got this—for me?”

Alec nods. “It’s supposed to bring you luck and protection.” He thinks he might have been embarrassed by it, once, this gross sentimentality, but he isn’t now. He knows there’s no functional utility to the charm. That isn’t the point. He wants Magnus to carry a piece of him with him, and just hopes that isn’t too much to ask for.

Magnus tentatively closes his fingers around the charm like it might vanish from his grasp. “I— thank you, Alexander.”

Alec pulls Magnus close to kiss him, feeling his chest light up when Magnus hums into his mouth, reaches up to twine a hand in his hair.

“No need to thank me,” he says when they part. “Just let it do its job, okay? Let it protect you.” And then, because he feels almost compelled to say it: “I couldn’t handle it if you got hurt.”

Magnus hums again. His hand is still on the nape of Alec’s neck, and he strokes softly at his hair.

“I will try.”

*

It turns out Alec’s the one who needed the protection charm.

Though what he really needs protection from is himself, because he’s always thinking about Magnus. Including, and especially, when he’s in the middle of a fight and a demon is coming at him.

He cuts it straight through with his seraph blade, but not before it gets him in the side, claws cleaving through his gear. Alec hits the ground hard, and at first he thinks, maybe it’s not so bad.

Then he tries to push himself up, and his vision shatters into a million colors, and he thinks, oh, right. Venom.

He’s vaguely aware of Izzy crouched over him, yelling into her phone, but whatever she’s saying is too far away to hear.

*

It’s startling, to come to in Magnus’s bed. Because it’s not that they haven’t shared a bed before, but they don’t do it regularly, and Alec’s always a little wary of encroaching on Magnus’s space, pushing too far.

He stretches out on the sheets, trying to come back into his body. His side is sore, but less than should be expected, even from an iratze. And as he pushes himself to sit up, his hand closes over something that was sitting in his palm.

The omamori charm.

“This was meant to be for you,” Alec says before he can think about it.

And Magnus, who’s sitting beside him, dead quiet, staring off into space so intensely Alec’s not even sure he’s heard him, startles and looks at him.

“Alexander,” he says instead of addressing Alec’s comment. His voice is quiet, disused, grief threading through it. He leans over to help Alec sit up with gentle hands. “Shh, don’t move too much, you’re still not fully healed.”

Alec groans as the act of sitting up aggravates the scar tissue in his side. “What happened?”

Magnus looks away again. His hands twist into each other. He looks very tired, Alec notices suddenly. “Venom. Don’t worry, I extracted it. It will take another few days for the wound to heal completely, though. You’ll have to take it easy.” He rubs at his ear and still doesn’t look at Alec.

It hurts, to see him looking so distant. Alec tries to call out to him. “Magnus.”

No response.

“Magnus.”

When Magnus stays looking away from him, Alec reaches out and takes his hand. He places the charm back in his palm.

Finally, Magnus looks at him. There are tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

“This was meant to protect you,” Alec says, closing Magnus’s fingers over the charm.

Magnus looks down at it. “You needed all the help you could get,” he says. And then, looking back up at Alec, “You worried me.”

It seems to pain him a little, to admit it.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says.  

“No.” Magnus shakes his head. “No.”

And they’re still sort of new, they still don’t really do this. But still Alec tugs on Magnus’s sleeve, pulls him in close. “Come here.”

Magnus follows his pull, climbs into bed with him, and Alec pulls him close. Magnus hesitates, then tucks his face into the curve of Alec’s shoulder, pressing up close to him.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” Magnus murmurs, ever wary of Alec’s wounded side.

“Never,” Alec promises.

*

Don’t let me hurt you, Magnus had said. Don’t let me hurt you. As if he could ever.

Alec, on the other hand…

He’d yelled at him. He’d yelled at him, and now Magnus is missing, missing in an Institute full of dead Downworlders, he could be lying somewhere hurt, or dead, and does he even know? Does he even know that Alec loves him?

The rising sun should be a blessing after one of the darkest nights the Institute’s ever seen. But it means less than nothing to Alec, not without—

“Alexander—”

Alec spins around and crushes Magnus in a hug, effectively cutting off anything else he might have been going to say. He can’t breathe for the relief crashing through him, but he manages to say into Magnus’s shoulder—

“I love you.”

He can’t bear for Magnus to go another second without knowing it.

“Magnus, I love you, I— by the Angel.” That’s all he can say, the rest is swallowed by the relief of Magnus’s presence.

Magnus pulls away to look at him. He looks sort of startled. “I—” he tries to say, and has to pause to center himself. “I love you, too.”

Alec hugs him again, because he’s so overwhelmed with feeling that he has to, and Magnus hugs him back, shaking a little.

“I thought I lost you,” Alec says, clinging to him.

Magnus shushes him. “I know.”

*

It’s even easier, after that, saying it to him. Even when Magnus is struggling, and has a hard time accepting it, Alec will say it to him.

When Magnus comes home after a tough client—

“I love you.”

When Magnus is going through one of his spells where all he can manage seems to be sitting out on the balcony, smoking cigarette after cigarette—

“I love you.”

When Magnus is shaken and hurting after the incident with Azazel, barely able to handle anything from Alec at all—

Quietly, and from a distance— “I love you.”

Alec tries not to feel hurt when Magnus doesn’t always say it back.  

*

It’s hard not saying it to him, when they’re broken up. Even harder than not being together is this: not being able to let Magnus know how loved he is.

Standing in the alleyway outside the Hunter’s Moon, looking at him, the words get caught in Alec’s throat. He’s not sure he can handle it if Magnus doesn’t say it back.

Magnus watches him, arms wrapped around himself. God, he looks so tired, Alec thinks. So tired and stressed beyond belief. And Alec realizes that however much Magnus may have stood by his decision, this has been incredibly hard on him.

Alec steps closer, grateful when Magnus doesn’t move away, but actually seems to soften as Alec approaches.

“Magnus…” he takes another step closer, “I love you.”

It feels like breathing again, to say it.

Magnus softens further. “I know,” he says, and then, “I’ve missed you.”

How Alec’s missed him, too. They’ve been working so closely together recently that it shouldn’t be possible, but he’s missed him.

He gets close enough to pull Magnus into a hug, and Magnus lets him, going boneless in Alec’s arms, like he’s been putting so much effort into holding himself up that the moment the opportunity comes to let it go he can’t help but collapse.

Alec holds him up, keeping himself upright solely on the warmth and solidness of Magnus in his arms, the relief of having him there.

“I love you,” he says again, into Magnus’s hair, and Magnus lets out a sort of whimper against his throat. “I love you.”

*

Magnus struggles with saying it, is something Alec’s realized. And it’s not that Alec doesn’t feel loved; Magnus shows him. He magicks hot drinks into Alec’s hands when he comes in from the cold. He gives him a hug when he can sense Alec’s feeling down and doesn’t know how to ask for it. He’s always there when Alec needs him, before Alec even realizes he needs him. But saying it aloud, committing to it—Magnus rarely does it unless Alec does it first.

So Alec tries to say it as much as possible.

He comes up behind Magnus when he’s working in his apothecary, wraps his arms around him, presses a kiss into the side of his neck. “I love you.”

Magnus tilts his head up to look at him, offers him a smile and a kiss on the check. “I love you, too. Now shoo before you distract me and I accidentally blow up the apartment.”

“Mmm, might be worth it.”

He comes to find him when Magnus gets lost in his thoughts, when he’s standing on the balcony, staring out over the city, a drink in his hand but not sipping from it.

Alec stands beside him, leans against him, letting Magnus support himself on him.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking about,” he says, “but I love you, you know.”

Magnus leans his head on his shoulder. “I know, darling. I love you, too.”

He wakes him with a soft kiss on his lips, runs a hand through his hair. Magnus always melts into it, wakens to look at him with unglamoured eyes.

“I love you,” Alec tells him, wanting it to be the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

And Magnus looks at him with this soft wondrous expression, always caught off guard by it.

“My darling,” he says, pressing a hand to Alec’s cheek.

Alec will keep saying it first until Magnus believes it.

*

If Alec has to have last words, he knows what he wants them to be.

Magnus comes careening down the alleyway toward him, skids to his knees in a way that must tear up the fabric of his pants, never mind hurt. “Alexander—”

Alec takes Magnus’s hands from where they’re hovering over him and holds them in his own. “Magnus—”

“Shhh, don’t talk, you’ll—” Magnus swallows harshly. “Save your strength.”

And Alec knows he doesn’t have long, but he has to say it to him, even if, especially if, it’s for the last time.

“I love you.” The words are broken and jagged, pushed out around the arrow driven through his lungs. They shear right through Magnus, his expression crumples, his hands on Alec’s chest fluttering desperately.

“No, no, don’t, please, darling—”

But Alec’s already fading, satisfied that at the very least, he’s told Magnus what he needs to.

*

Afterwards, when the hole is gone from Alec’s chest, and Magnus has a new one carved in his, Magnus lies down beside him in their bed, tracing a finger back and forth over the scar tissue on Alec’s heart. He’s wearing one of his silk robes open on his chest, and Alec can’t help but think that Magnus should have a scar, too, anything to show how he’s actually feeling inside.

“I love you,” Magnus says, still quietly dragging his finger across Alec’s skin. “I should have said it, before.”

“Before…?” But Alec thinks he already knows what Magnus is talking about.

“Before,” Magnus insists. “When…” you were dying. “I should have said it back to you.”

“No, Magnus, it’s okay—”

“It’s not.” Magnus lets out a sigh. “I suppose I was thinking—oh, I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. But the point is, you deserved to hear it. You always deserve to hear it. I’m sorry that… I have a hard time sometimes. Saying it.”

He sounds so sad about it. Alec doesn’t want him to feel that way, especially not now, when things are already hard enough.

He takes Magnus’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “It’s okay. I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Magnus’s gaze is searing and very sad. “Do you really?”

“Yes.” Alec tugs him in until Magnus is lying pressed against his side, his nose tucked in against Alec’s neck. “You show me, don’t you? I know that you love me. I always know.”

Magnus still seems unsettled, but he stays against Alec’s side. “You’re good at that,” he finally murmurs after a long silence.

“At what?”

“Just— saying how you feel.”

Alec supposes it’s true, though he wouldn’t phrase it as the statement of fact Magnus seems to think it is. While it’s true that he’s never exactly been known to mince words, growing up he doesn’t think he was ever truly honest with his feelings with anyone. Not before Magnus.

“Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know.”

“You are,” Magnus insists. “It’s something I love about you. I can always count on you to be honest with me about how you feel.”

There’s something almost wistful in his voice, and Alec pulls him closer, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Okay,” he concedes. “How’s this for honest feelings? I love you. And it’s going to be okay.”

They haven’t talked about his magic yet. Alec’s not sure if this even counts as “talking about it.”

Magnus sniffles. “How?”  

“I don’t know,” Alec says, and he really doesn’t. “But it will.”

*

It doesn’t get better. Alec doesn’t know how to make it better, not when Magnus won’t let him.

Or, rather—he does know how to make it better. But not in a way either of them is going to be happy with.

Magnus is staring at him like he doesn’t even know who Alec is. Like he’s been transported to a darker world, one where the few truths he still holds have been turned on their heads.

Alec hates that he’s brought him to such a place, hates that it was necessary. He hates himself for the things he’s saying to him, terrible things, hates watching them embed themselves in Magnus’s chest. The spark in you is out for good. I’m not in love with you anymore.

And—Alec’s never lied to Magnus like this. He lied about the Soul Sword. But he’s never lied to him about his feelings for him. Not ever.

He wonders if Magnus can catch the disingenuousness in his tone, or if his feeling that he doesn’t deserve kind words is too deeply ingrained to allow for it.

Apparently it’s the latter. Magnus doesn’t try to follow him as he walks away. The slump in his posture isn’t just grief, but resignation.

It makes Alec’s chest want to cave in, the knowledge that some part of Magnus has just been waiting for this moment. Maybe that’s why he never pushes, never asks, never says anything first.

But it’s too late for Alec to try and remedy that now.

Magnus probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.

*

The last thing Alec expects is for Magnus to storm into his office the next day, magic flaring along every inch of his skin. Some part of Alec thrills to see it, that spark back in his eyes, even if it’s now mainly anger, and directed at him.

“How—” Magnus starts after he’s slammed the door shut and locked it. He stays over there, not coming any closer to Alec. “How dare you—”

It’s evidently too late to try and hide the deal from Magnus. Alec can only hope that this won’t invalidate it.

He raises his hands in self-defense, respecting Magnus’s wishes to stay on the other side of the room even if all he wants is to be closer to him. “It was the only way—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I don’t care that you summoned Asmodeus.”

Alec blinks. “You… don’t?”

Magnus crosses his arms. “Well, that was incredibly stupid, Alexander. But quite frankly, it’s secondary.”

Alec’s about to ask, secondary to what? when Magnus stalks closer to him and he figures he’s about to find out.

“How dare you—” Magnus is clearly trying to maintain his composure, but his voice starts quivering, and there’s a catch in his throat when he speaks— “say those things to me? Those awful things, I— I thought you loved me.”

Alec tries to swallow around the pain in his throat. “I do,” he says quietly. “I had to make you believe it.”

“Oh, I believed it.” Magnus turns away as if he can’t bear to look at him any longer. “For a moment, anyway. But then I thought, you’ve always told me how you feel. If you had been feeling those things all along, why wouldn’t you just say so?”

“Magnus—”

Magnus practically hisses at him. “Let me finish.”

Alec lets him, taking a step back for good measure.

“I didn’t deserve that,” Magnus says, as if he’s convincing himself of it as he says it, “those things you said to me. I didn’t deserve it.”

And despite the perversity of the situation, Alec can’t help but be sort of proud of him, for saying that.

Magnus deflates, then. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

Alec wonders if he’ll leave, wonders what he could possibly say to keep him here, but instead Magnus just backs up to the wall, slides down it so he’s sitting on the floor, puts his face in his hands.

Alec comes cautiously around to the front of his desk, sits on the floor with his back against it so he’s at Magnus’s level.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean any of it.”

Magnus huffs out a weak laugh into his hands. “I know, that’s the worst part.”

After a long moment of hiding his face, Magnus finally looks back up at him.

“How is it fair, Alec?” he demands. “How is it fair that you’re the one who’s hurt me, yet the only person I want to go running to about it is you?”

Alec thinks this is probably more honesty than he’s gotten from Magnus in a long time. He tries not to think too deeply about that.

“It’s not fair,” he says.

At that, Magnus pushes himself back up, straightening himself out. A jolt of panic runs through Alec at the idea that Magnus will leave, leave before Alec can make it right.

But Magnus just says, “I have to go deal with my father. And I should probably ensure Lorenzo is no longer a chameleon while I’m at it. Will you meet me at home tonight?”

Alec scrambles to his feet. “No longer a what? Wait, you got your apartment back?”

“Yes… please don’t ask how. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes,” Alec says, hope starting to banish the despair that’s been overtaking his chest, “of course.”

Magnus nods once, and then he’s gone, and it’s only after he’s left that Alec realizes exactly what he said:

Meet me at home.

*

When Alec gets to the loft later, Magnus is sitting on the couch with a drink, looking vaguely singed and unsettled.

Alec sits down tentatively beside him. “You okay?”

Magnus nods, reaches up to touch the tips of his hair. “It’s just a bit of smoke.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Magnus sets his drink down abruptly. Alec’s ready for anger, accusation, can’t help but feel he deserves it.

What he isn’t ready for is for Magnus to sigh and say, “This was all my fault.”

Alec tries to protest. “No, Magnus—”

Magnus raises a hand to stop him. “In a way,” he clarifies, “because I don’t think I—” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never been honest with you about how I feel. That’s what led to all of this.”

Alec shifts tentatively closer to him. “Magnus… it’s okay. I never want you to have to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

But Magnus just shakes his head. “One can’t grow that way, Alexander. I’ve gotten too used to… not growing.”

Alec isn’t sure this is really the moment for Magnus to be berating himself over his perceived weaknesses, but neither of them has ever been any good at that sort of timing.

“You’ve been living one way for a long time,” Alec says gently. “It’s okay to have trouble with changing, all of a sudden.”

“It’s not just that, I—” Magnus has let Alec get closer all this while, and Alec manages to reach out and grab his hands. Magnus sighs at the touch. “I’m not used to someone like you, someone who won’t… take what I say as reason to leave me. Whether what I say is good or bad, love or suffering, someone always takes it as a reason to leave.”

Like I did last night, Alec thinks with a wrenching pain in his chest, but doesn’t say it.

“And so, I’ve gotten rather good at not saying it,” Magnus finishes, lips twisting.

“You deserve to be honest,” Alec says, “and not have it held against you. If someone has a problem with that, that’s on them.”

Magnus nods. “That’s the advice I’d give someone who came to me with this issue,” he agrees. Then he looks down at their joined hands. “And yet, difficult to put into practice.”

“So, let’s practice it,” Alec says. “Tell me how you feel. Don’t hold any of it back.”

Magnus lets out a small laugh. “I think I’ve already told you off well enough today.”

“That’s okay.” Alec squeezes his hands. “Say it anyway.”

Magnus looks back up at him tentatively. After a moment, he says, “It hurt me, to hear you say those things. I’ve heard it all before, mind you, but it hurt more, hearing it from you. I know you didn’t mean it,” he adds quickly as if he thinks Alec will jump in, “but it hurts all the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, heart squeezing, even if he’s honestly not sure he wouldn’t make the same choice. Magnus does have his magic back, after all.

Magnus nods. “I know, darling.” He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative. “I’m sorry, as well. I wish I was the type of partner who was as open with his affections as you need.”

“You think you’re not? You think I don’t—” Alec flounders for words—“feel loved?”

Magnus raises a challenging eyebrow. “You felt you were dispensable to me. Or am I wrong?”

Alec starts to deny it, but realizes he can’t. His behavior’s already made his feelings clear on this matter.

“And besides,” Magnus continues firmly, “it’s also something I want for myself.” He says it like the sentence doesn’t quite fit in his mouth. “Starting… now.”

And he turns to Alec and takes his face in both hands. “I love you.”

Alec pulls him close and kisses him with all the desperation of having recently thought he’d never get to again. He kisses him with all the pride he feels for this man, who wants so much but asks for so little, finally taking something for himself.

When Magnus pulls away, he tucks his face into Alec’s shoulder, and Alec draws him down so they’re lying on the couch, Magnus resting on his chest.

“I expect lessons, Alexander,” Magnus says.

“On what?”

“Emotional bluntness. I want to know how you do it so easily.”

Alec runs a hand through Magnus’s hair. “It wasn’t always easy.”

“Somehow, I can’t imagine even a young Alexander Lightwood tiptoeing around anything.”

“Not tiptoeing, but— I don’t know. There were a lot of things that I just—never told anyone, before I met you. Never thought I would be able to tell anyone.”

Magnus doesn’t lift his head from Alec’s neck, but Alec can tell he’s listening carefully.

“Being able to tell you that I love you…” For the first time in a while, Alec struggles to find the words. “You can’t overestimate how… powerful that is to me.”

Magnus does look up at him then. His gaze is soft, fond with a tinge of melancholy.

“It feels powerful,” he says.

Alec cradles his face between his hands. “It’s okay if it takes you a while to get the hang of it. You have a lot of history to work against.”

Magnus laughs quietly. “That’s an understatement.”

“It’s okay,” Alec repeats, “because I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Magnus nods. “And neither am I.”

He puts so much weight into it that Alec knows he’s serious. About trying. About being vulnerable. About being honest with himself.

Alec vows to himself that he’ll do better, too, try to meet him halfway instead of jumping forward without him.

“I love you,” Magnus says, and okay, maybe Alec did need to hear him say that more often, because everything within him blooms to hear it.

He pulls Magnus close and kisses him.

*

Coming home to Magnus has always been a blessing. But there’s a new sort of warmth in Alec’s chest when he sees him now, now that they’re married, now that Magnus is settled.

Magnus is on the phone when Alec gets home, so he busies himself making drinks. He still can’t do it as well as Magnus, but he’s working on it.

Magnus flings his phone across the room when he sees Alec is finished with the drinks. Alec’s not sure if he actually hung up the call or not.

“I see my workday is finished!” Magnus says as he comes over to him.

Alec hands him a drink, rolling his eyes. “Not sure it’s much of a workday if it falls apart at the slightest distraction.”

“Oh, but what a lovely distraction.” He throws Alec a wink, which is relatively unsuccessful given he’s trying to take a sip of his cocktail at the same time.

“Acceptable?” Alec asks once Magnus has tasted it.

Magnus beams up at him. He smiles at Alec differently now, with the full force of his emotions, not holding anything back. There’s an exuberance to him now that Alec had only caught glimpses of before, this riot of color and energy in his heart, now fully on display.

Alec loves him so much.

“It’s perfect, darling,” Magnus says. “I love you.”

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