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At first, everything seems normal. Just past eight p.m., Alec trudges through the loft door with tired steps, trying not to drip sticky demon ichor on the carpets as he calls out a hello to Magnus. The answer he receives is muffled by the doors leading to Magnusā apothecary, a little stilted and late, but Alec makes nothing of it, chalks it up to his boyfriend being too focused on his work to pay much attention to anything or anyone else, as it has been known to happen.
He showers, letting the scaldingly hot water take away all the aches and stresses of the day, then pulls on a pair of cozy sweatpants and one of Magnusā t-shirts to sleep in. The strip of light beneath the closed doors of Magnusā study doesnāt waver, so Alec sets about making himself a snack before bed to prevent a growling stomach from being the thing that wakes him at the crack of dawn. He tells himself to check on Magnus after heās eaten, to make sure the warlock actually gets some sleep instead of slaving over a potion or a spell.
A plate of cheese toast later, Alec finds himself in front of the door, hesitating. He canāt hear any sounds coming from inside, no shoes shuffling, no glass containers clinking against wood, no humming, no anything; itās almost like Magnus isnāt even there. Alec swallows, his curled fingers hovering over the wood, frozen mid-knock.
He opens the door slowly, then steps inside.
The ingredients table stands untouched and nothing is brewing in the iron cast cauldron off to the side; everything in the same place it was when Alec stopped by on his way out to the Institute to wish Magnus a good day and get a kiss goodbye.
Magnus himself is sat at his desk, unmoving, like one of the marble statues lining the Institute roof; the tabletop lamp to his right is casting dark shadows onto his face and reflecting fractured light in the glass of whiskey nearby, barely a sip missing from it. The second hand of the clock ticks twice before Magnus realizes Alec is in the room and it takes him another moment to pull the mask of contentedness over the heavy sadness that was there before.
Alec knows that look, knows what it means - itās not the kind of nostalgic melancholy that comes with reliving old memories or even the tiredness seeping into bones after a hard day, but the vulnerable, hurting sorrow Magnus had felt after Valentine and all the torture he had to endure in his body. Alec can still recall it picture-perfectly, burned into his memory - a hollow gaze, eyebrows pulled together and lips tight, Magnusā entire body slumped down where he always sits tall.
With a feeling of deja vu, Alec watches Magnus stand up too quickly, overeager in his want to hide all evidence of weakness; thereās a tight smile in the corners of his mouth as he beelines for Alec to greet him with a kiss. Itās short and sweet and Alec gives into it because heās only so strong, but it doesnāt sit right with him.
āAlexander, is something wrong? You look worried, darling,ā Magnus says, his voice smooth and palms warm against Alecās chest; worry roots itself inside Alec as he runs through the list of things that couldāve caused Magnus to feel like this. As far as he knows, Magnus only had one minor client meeting set up, then a warlock party he was invited to, a congregation in the wake of recent events.
It mustāve been that, if Alecās gut-feeling is anything to go by. He smiles reassuringly at Magnus, putting his hands over the ringed fingers tapping out a subtle pattern against the fabric of his shirt.
āIām fine, but what about you?ā
āWhat do you mean?ā Magnus feigns ignorance, but Alec knows better than that, has watched Magnus for so long that he can easily spot all the cues - the shift from foot to foot, the nervous bob of his throat.
With a gentle hand cupped over Magnusā elbow, Alec leads him back to the swivel chair he got up from, then perches on the edge of the desk, careful of all the things already on it, especially the framed picture of them from one of their dates in Europe.
āYou seem off. Did anything happen while you were at that meeting?ā
Magnus glances down at his lap, where his hands are folded together, fingers worrying a ring, turning it restlessly. The edges of his jaw harden and anger flows over, acidic in all the words he throws next.
āLorenzo Rey happened. Youāll meet him at the next council, since I wonāt be there.ā
Alec doesnāt understand. He shifts, brows drawn down and head tilted.
āIt wasnāt a party, but an almost business meeting. The community voted for a new High Warlock due to what Lorenzo called ācrucial lapses of judgmentā,ā Magnus sighs heavily, bitterness joining all the emotions already trapped beneath his ribs. āAnd while some wanted to have me stay in the position, the majority voted for Rey, whoās been always against me and my ways of living. So, heās the new High Warlock of Brooklyn now.ā Ā
Silence falls across them as Alec mulls over the information, shocked by what heās just heard. At first, his brain canāt catch up, associating the title with Magnus since he can remember, but then, it all clicks and righteous anger lights up Alecās veins. He wants to stand up and go find this newcomer, shake him by the lapels and take whatās Magnusā, yet itās not as simple as that.
Politics are never an easy ground to walk and both sides are somewhat right - while Alec would love nothing more to fight for Magnusā honor (even though Magnus can do that himself, the thought is nice), he can see why warlocks have taken the steps they have, with how their relationship is viewed and Alecās connections to the Clave, how Magnusā decisions could be seen as influenced, skewed by a Shadowhunter. Still, he canāt help but feel cheated alongside Magnus.
It all depends on the point of view, because when people make a decision, they judge by their intentions and not by actions, whereas others see it the opposite way. Magnus had chosen his own kind, had wanted another Downworlder to protect his people from frankly inevitable trouble in the form of the Soul Sword, over a militarist organization that had abused and betrayed him many times before. He couldnāt have predicted that the Queen would turn on them and side with Valentine; he had done his best in the very difficult situation heād found himself in, trapped between two important fractions of his life.
āThatās⦠Magnus, Iām sorry,ā Alec murmurs, at a loss for words.
Magnus barks out a bitter laugh, eyes trained on something in the middle distance.
āNo, donāt. Maybe it was the right thing to do.ā He licks his lips, presses them together into a thin line against his teeth. āLuke and Raphael warned me, told me there was a different way to go about this, but I didnāt listen, lost in my pain and fear. You lying to me about the sword, the threat of my children ending up hurt or dead, the entire Shadow World in danger⦠I couldnāt think straight. Especially after what happened with Azazel and Valentine.ā
Guilt flares up like a red-hot brand in Alecās heart, but he tamps it down - heās been forgiven, this is not about him. Him betraying Magnusā trust was the last drop that broke the dam, released all of that pent-up hurt and anger, everything heās been holding onto for a long while. They both thought theyād done the honorable thing, picked the proper path to walk on.
The discussion about all of this could last for hours on end, different factors changing outcomes like butterflies in effect, and the conclusions would be still as grey as the fog that hangs over New York on cold and wet mornings.
āYou did what felt right.ā
āI did. Still, it was ultimately their choice. Itās justā¦ā When Magnus falters, Alec reaches for his palm, cradles it between his own in reassurance; heās listening, he cares. āIāve had this title for so long, itās become a part of my identity, something I relied on to remind me of my strength in moments of doubt. Iāve always been Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn.ā
Magnus smiles a hollow smile, eyes flickering up to meet Alecās. āNow, itās just Magnus Bane, a warlock. Maybe not even a good one.ā
As soon as the resigned words leave Magnusā mouth, thereās that anger again; it flows through Alec, tasting like refusal on his tongue. He knows Magnus doesnāt truly think that, instead lets himself feel the harshness residing deep, left behind from all the times heās been beaten down and made to think heās less than the powerful being Alec and the world see him as.
āMagnus, donāt -ā Alec pauses, shuffles from the desk down to the floor, resting on a bent knee. Other hand still tangled with Magnusā, Alec sets his free palm on Magnusā thigh, finds his wandering gaze and holds it steady. āYou know thatās as far from the truth as you can get.ā
Alec squeezes Magnusā fingers gently between his, the only sounds around them the creak of the leather chair underneath Magnusā weight and the rhythm of their breathing.
āYouāre kind and thoughtful, always offering your home and your heart to people in need, always risking everything to protect your people. Without your input, weād probably never solve half the cases we have, I hope youāre aware.ā
Magnus allows a small chuckle at Alecās words, nodding his head in smug agreement despite his gloomy mood. Relishing in that sliver of warmth on his boyfriendās face, Alec continues, āYour knowledge keeps surprising me each time I get to hear your stories, each of them showing how wise you are, how much you understand. You survived wars and ends of the world as we know it, lived for centuries, yet you still have that gentleness in you that so many other people are missing.ā
āBut youāre not all brains and heart and no brawn, no. You wield your strength and your magic with pride - Iāve never met anyone else more powerful than you, because all it takes is one swipe of your arm to annihilate Circle members and you perform impressive spells like nobodyās business, not even breaking a sweat. Youāre stronger than a title, still as capable as you are without it.ā
When Magnus wants to interrupt, Alec doesnāt let him oppose the truth.
āYouāre an extraordinary person, a great leader, the most wonderful lover and friend - anybody who says otherwise is either blind or in denial.ā
Magnusā palm fits itself around Alecās cheek, soft fingertips against the edge of his jaw. Alec smiles, leaning into the touch.
āIām not saying any of this just because I think you need to hear it. I mean all of it, every single word.ā
Heās seen it all with his very own eyes, witnessed all he just described - he was there after all, when Magnus saved Lukeās life, putting his own in danger; when he saved Alec, more than once already. Magnus has helped Clary on multiple occasions when there were other things on his mind, assisted the Institute, even though he didnāt have to. He fought valiantly against people who looked down upon him and all those that did wrong, like Iris. Thereās so much more to tell, not enough hours in a day to sing all of Magnusā praises.
Thumb swiping a metronome rhythm across Alecās cheek, Magnus stays quiet, his expression neutral except the upward quirk of his lips, like a peek of sun from behind stormy clouds. He seems to be reflecting on what he just heard, until that smile blooms and he stands slowly, pulling Alec up with him until theyāre face to face.
Magnusā careful hands slither up Alecās arms, waking shivers in their path until they come to rest on broad shoulders. āThank you,ā he says, earnest and quiet, before he presses his forehead against Alecās who tugs him even closer, until thereās no space between them. Their eyes dip shut, eyelashes fluttering against cheeks as they breathe each other in, surrounded by calmness of the loft, the quiet familiarity of their touch.
āIām here for you and I love you. Remember, youāre not alone in this,ā Alec murmurs, lips brushing against Magnusā with each syllable.
āI love you, too,ā Magnus hums, slipping his hands around to grab at the back of Alecās shirt, then rests his cheek against Alecās shoulder; heās not holding on for dear life, but for comfort, like he understands this isnāt temporary. āI do know that, but sometimes itās difficult to take my own advice.ā Magnus chuckles to himself, but Alec feels it more than he hears it, Magnusā breath sweeping over his skin.
āI feel like I will go crazy, just standing on the sidelines,ā Magnus confesses and Alec tightens his hold, rubbing soothing circles against Magnusā back; heās not going to let that happen.
Their daily lives keep getting more steeper and more demanding, but that means nothing against Alecās love for Magnus - their short separation was more than enough to show Alec that leaving Magnusā side is impossible; heās here for good, and heās here to do better, to make up to Magnus for all his past mistakes. Relationships may be still new to him, but he knows how much support means when troubles are ahead, how loyalty and honesty and affection are the base for a love that can withstand any storm.
āTake this break to focus on yourself, then. Youāve gone through a lot recently, so find your balance, then take the council by storm.ā Alec presses a soft kiss to the side of Magnusā neck, searching for that ticklish spot that never fails to make Magnus laugh. Bones warming at the sound, Alec adds lightheartedly, āI can already hear Lorenzo shaking in his fancy boots.ā
Magnus taps him on the shoulder in mock chastisement with another giggle escaping his chest, but then sobers, leaning back to look Alec in the face.
āWhat would I do without you, huh?ā
Alec smiles innocently, eyes flickering up and away.
āYouād probably mope around all night, drink some expensive alcohol and maybe magically egg Lorenzoās house, but since Iām here, we can go to our bed and then figure things out tomorrow. How about that?ā Alec asks, already taking a step back towards the doors, one hand extended between them as an invitation.
As Magnusā fingers slide against Alecās, he answers, āSounds like a plan.ā
big s/o to kris @saltyalec for the amazing banner!! thank u!!
days of dark ( magnus/alec | pg13 | 2/? | 20k+ )
Alec canāt wrap his head around whatās happening. Itās insane, and yet somehow makes perfect and total sense.
He crawls to one of the walls and moves down it before backflipping off it and landing perfectly on his two feet. Heās doing things heās never dreamed of before, and yet everything in his body is telling him that this is right.
Alec looks at his palms again and grins. He can hear the buzz of the city in his ears, and smells the air from the sea not too far away.
He flicks his hand up and presses down his middle and ring finger to his palm, causing the webbing to shoot from his wrist. Alec climbs it and swings back and forth, getting some momentum before shooting another web and swinging from that one, cheering throughout it all.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Okay, is nobody going to talk about how Asmodeus is usually cited as the demon of lust?
Like not only is that funny, but imagine Magnus when he found out. Imagine him questioning his identity and personality and bisexuality and wondering if that was all because of who his father is. Imagine Magnus being concerned with obtaining enthusiastic consent from all his partners, even if itās something as simple as kissing or touching, because he doesnāt want to be his father, he can accept being half-demon, but he will never be a monster.
it's a memory of a day he spent with ragnor and catarina. it's sometime in the late 20th century about thirty years ago. late enough that the memory of etta and what they had no longer leaves him with a bittersweet feeling. camille hasn't been back to haunt him for half a century. the clave hasn't been on his case for a while (and after what happened last time, he's pretty confident that it'll be a while before they'll be back). for the first time in a long time he feels at ease, for the first time in what feels like centuries he feels more than just content. it's the memory of the home-cooked meal he prepares together with his two best friends. it's the taste of that one type of red wine that all three of them agrees on. it's ragnor's dry humour and the glint in his eyes when magnus gives him one of those "i can't believe i'm friends with you" looks. it's the sound of catarina's bubbly laugher and the way she throws back her head, dark curls bouncing at the movement. it's the unconditional love, the feeling of home, of safety, of warmth spreading throughout his body with happinesssend me a character from one of my fandoms and iāll tell you what happy memory they think of to conjure a patronus