#i debated trying to find a decent quality one of him with cat ears but i thought this one would be funnier

[vagueconfusion]

help this idea came to me while at work and Would Not Leave

Also bonus one with runes

[wordsablaze]

(6) At Least The Fatigue Is Real

Stubbornly In Love Magnus and Alec are two beautiful souls that both happen to be in love, heartbroken, and painfully stubborn. An angsty malec fic prompted by this lovely soul, chapter 6-10 done as part of the Malec Big Bang! Enjoy!

A/N: Help out? Posting week is here so I’m back! Mostly thanks to my astonishingly wonderful beta @zeejade88 as she went above and beyond with tolerating me and making everything better <333 Check out the incredible art that @dmsilvisart made, I am honoured to have worked with her for this fic and to have received such magical artwork! <3

It’s a good thing Alec’s tears aren’t the source of rain because otherwise the entire world would be flooding at an alarming rate.

He can’t think past Magnus and how he’d left. Of course, he knows Magnus had only left because Alec had asked, but that doesn’t make it any easier for his heart. There’s a part of him that wishes he could just go back, back to when he didn’t know Magnus and when becoming the head of the Institute was his biggest concern, but he knows that’s impossible no matter how much he wants it not to be.

But, on the other hand, he doesn’t want to think about Magnus right now because he’s having dinner with Maryse in less than a quarter of an hour and the last thing he wants is for her to find out they’ve broken up, which is why he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom mirror and breathing heavily, trying to persuade himself that he’s okay.

“You can do this. No big deal. All you have to do is pretend everything’s fine. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. You can do this.”

His reflection seems unconvinced; he’s tempted to punch the helplessly truthful mirror.

Glaring at himself doesn’t seem to have the same effect as when he glares at others so he gives up on it after another minute, just sighing and running a hand through his hair instead. Almost immediately, he groans, opens the tap, wets his hands, and tries to make himself look like he hadn’t only changed clothes because of this family dinner. Somehow, the whole thing takes ten minutes so he’s only just satisfied with his appearance when Izzy bursts in, radiating concern.

“What if I’d been naked, Izzy?” Alec asks, rolling his eyes at her fearless behaviour.

Izzy scoffs. “I’ve seen much worse than you, get over yourself. Now, if you’re done preening, we have a mother to entertain.”

“I was not preening!” Alec argues as she tugs on his arm, then all but drags him to the front entrance.

Oh no.

Maryse is armed with a bottle of wine and a giddy smile, which can’t be good. The last time she’d turned up in this kind of state, Magnus had been the only one who could keep up with her and coax her away from drinks and towards mindless chatter and rest instead.

“Izzy…” Alec murmurs, his tone saying everything he’d rather not. That and the fact that Izzy seems to have an inbuilt Alec-translator means she perfectly understands what he’s thinking in a heartbeat.

Izzy swallows but blinks away her frown. “We can do this. Come on, where’s that stupid determination of yours? I bet you Clary’s next brownie batch that she’ll hug you first.”

Alec makes a face but then they’re too close to Maryse for him to say anything without being overheard so he plasters a smile onto his face and takes the bottle from her hands. “Hey, Mom.”

“My children!” Maryse smiles brightly before hugging them both in turn, Alec first just as Izzy had predicted, the scent of coconut flooding through the door as she walks through.

“We made stew!” Izzy tells Maryse as they walk towards the room they’d turned into a dining room a couple of weeks back since nobody ever used it for anything else and family time had suddenly become much more common, to everyone’s pleasant surprise.

Not wanting Maryse to reply with something borderline insulting and spark yet another nostalgic debate, Alec adds: “Don’t worry, it’s the new and upgraded version.”

“Oh, thank the angel,” Maryse breathes in relief.

Izzy makes an indignant sound. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad!”

She gets only a hum in reply but, thankfully, they reach the dining room before they can start another argument over the quality of their childhood attempts at cooking. Alec opens the door and lets the other two in before following them, shutting the door behind him to keep away prying eyes or nosy ears.

The first round of stew is accompanied by flickering conversation topics that Alec mostly tunes out. It’s only when they refill their ridiculously small bowls – the size of which is the only reason that they’re having more than one serving in the first place – that things go slightly south.

“So, Alec, how’s Magnus? Busy with a client, I presume?” Maryse asks, a smile on her face that Alec really doesn’t want to sabotage.

Naturally, he does one of the things he’s best at: he keeps pretending. “Yeah, it was an urgent request. In fact, I forgot to tell you, he sends his apologies for not being able to make it.”

Izzy gives him an odd look but doesn’t contradict him, going with it. “Good thing too, he’d probably have stolen bigger bowls with the excuse of being fabulous and gotten us in trouble again.”

“Again?” Maryse echoes, raising an eyebrow and sipping her drink.

It’s not a secret that Alec himself occasionally indulges in and appreciates alcohol but, right now, he couldn’t hate it more. He just really wants to stop talking about Magnus and pretend that this is just another casual dinner rather than the only reason Alec is talking to anybody else in the first place.

“Well, there was that time we had a stray cat problem and, instead of helping relocate them, all Magnus did was magic us some bowls and cat litters,” Izzy says, rolling her eyes and effectively covering for Alec’s internal distress.

Maryse just laughs, throwing her head back as she imagines the scene. Alec offers a small chuckle as Izzy takes the lead in their conversation, the two siblings fully shocked when Maryse starts to tell them her own stories about Magnus. Alec listens with a troubled interest, not sure whether he should listen to the tales of his boyfriend- no, his ex-boyfriend’s adventures after jeopardising their relationship’s ability to fix itself.

Regardless of his ever-growing guilt, he listens and finds himself smiling at the crazy things Magnus has done. It makes him want to go and see Magnus’ mannerisms for himself, to go and build his own stories with Magnus, but, mostly, to just go, go away from this situation and cry in his room again.

“Alec, are you alright?” Maryse asks, apparently finally seeing through his pretence.

He smiles as brightly as he can, not wanting to worry her. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a little tired, it was a long day.” And he’s not exactly lying. It was a long day and he is utterly tired, just not for the reasons Maryse is probably thinking.

“You can say that again,” Izzy says under her breath, smirking a little.

Maryse smiles at him, then waves a hand. “You can go and rest if you need to. It’s been a while since Isabelle and I have had some quality girl talk anyway…”

Izzy genuinely snorts, then covers it up with a cough, but nobody could miss the shine in her eyes at those words. It’s been halfway to forever since they’ve had anything close to girl talk and Alec really wants to be happy for her, he does, but he can’t pull his mind out of the time he’s spent with Magnus. He still smiles, though, yawning to authenticate his fatigue and just about managing a decent wave before he leaves, walking faster than he’d thought he could.

By the time he gets to his room, he’s too tired to change his clothes so he just pulls his socks off – a habit he’d picked up from seeing Magnus remove his socks before bed so many times – and flicks the light he’d left on earlier, off. His happiness, patience, and concentration might have been fabricated but his lack of energy is genuine and even he knows he can’t fake his way out of that one.

“Nnnggghhhhh,” he groans after taking two more steps, promptly flopping onto the mattress face-down; pretending is way more tiring than people can ever know. And if he falls asleep cuddling his pillow as if it’s a certain warlock, well, nobody will ever know that either.

like/reblog but don’t respot, thanks!