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chittaprint · 5 years ago

Text

Bad With Words

Paring: Hendery (Wong Kunhang) x reader

Genre: fluff, romance, comedy, mild angst

A late christmas present to the lovely @cherrysweettea !! I hope you like it! Hendery is such a sweet angel, and I really tried to do him justice with this story despite not usually writing for these genres. I hope it’s enjoyable

“You need to give yourself more credit! You’ve worked so hard. Honestly, nobody deserves this opportunity more than you do,” you lectured, lightly rolling your eyes at Hendery’s, your best friend, antics. He was always doing this, thinking lowly of himself. Unfortunately, this was quite the habit of his.

“Yeah, I know, but so many other people dedicate their whole lives just to get this opportunity and done…” Hendery responded, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m thrilled, don’t get me wrong, but I still can’t believe that I, out of the tens of thousands of people who auditioned, got picked…” he trailed off. So humble. Although he was facing away from you, you could tell that he was reflecting on everything that had happened all within a matter of months. Hendery often talked to you about his case of imposter syndrome, his belief that he wasn’t good enough to join the ranks of celebrities.

While it hurt you to see him constantly tear at his self-worth, it was nice to know someone who embodied so much talent and also such humility. Too many celebrities, in your opinion, understood that they were famous, that they were talented, and flaunted it as if it were some golden VIP card for superior treatment. Maybe it was different because you knew Hendery personally; he was one of your best friends and had never used his talent as a form of superiority. At heart, he really seemed just like an ordinary, kind boy.

“Exactly!” you jumped up out of the beanbag and extended your arms. Hendery’s dark eyes widened a bit in surprise and he stopped folding the shirt in his suitcase. “And SM is going to be so thankful to have an idol as hardworking and talented as you! Or at least he’d better be, or I’m going to fly to Seoul and fight Lee Soo Man on your behalf,” you declared, swiping your arms through the air dramatically. “Korean laws be damned, mess with my best friend and I’ll come for you – CEO? Secret assassin? Doesn’t matter.”

Hendery began to laugh as he crouched over his suitcase. He tried to cover his wheezy laughter with one of his hands, but he failed to mask the sound as per usual. It was also at this moment that he realized that he wasn’t going to get anymore packing done with you around, so he stopped and stood up. “Aw, but what if you get barred from our concerts?” He pouted. “What will I do without your support?”

You arched a brow at him and recoiled slightly in seeming shocked. Bringing a hand to your chest to feign disbelief and scoffing lightly, you replied, “have you forgotten that my acting skills are what got me accepted into our high school and my dream university? You’re talking to a future actress, here! If I received As on all my acting performances throughout high school then I can get past security.” It was all true.

Hendery laughed again, this time making no effort to hide his laugh, and you smiled. “Oh yes,” he pondered between laughs, “how could I forget. You really convinced Mr. Chen that he cancelled the quiz for that class, huh.”

A smile pulled at the corner of your lips in response as the fond memory resurfaced in your mind. Ah, junior year - that had been a particularly fun year. It was also the same year that Hendery had placed second in your school’s annual talent performance contest, which was no small feat considering you both attended one of the best performing arts academies in East Asia. “Only because you caught on and helped me,” you giggled slightly before sighing. “My point is,” you continued with an added emphasis, “you deserve this so much.” The smile grew on your face as his gentle eyes met yours, causing a small grin to swing up onto his lower face

Your eyes moved down to look at Hendery’s half-packed suitcase and the entire mood in the room seemed to shift somewhat. Whereas the space had seconds ago been filled light laughter and smiles, the atmosphere had no ebbed away into feelings of melancholy and unspoken uncertainties. Even the setting sun helped add to the effect. Hendery peered at you with a questioning look on his face, not quite sure what to think of your sudden change of attitude. That was until his eyes followed yours to his suitcase, and he understood everything; nothing needed to be said.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow...” the words escaped your mouth before you registered what you had just said. Just as quickly as the words had slipped out, you realized your mistake. Eyes widening and shoulders tensing, it took everything in your power not to slap your hand over your mouth or jump right out the window on your right. Oh, was it a tempting offer right now.

You dumb emotions! Why is now that you decide to show yourself and not when I’m on stage and need you? you shouted mentally. “I–sorry,” you stammered, glancing at Hendery and hoping that your cheeks were not a crazy mess of pink. “I just–” but the words would not come out, and in fact no more words formed. Instead, you were restrained to only being allowed to do weird hand motions. Oh god, how did you hate your own vulnerability and emotions.

You may be a skilled actress with superior command over each of your performances and personas, but you were still human. Like everyone else – maybe more than most, in your opinion – your inner emotions, thoughts, and worries you lacked control over. They were rampant and destructive, like a wild storm at sea, and you did not know how to keep them in check. To make matters worse, the storm always seemed to rage at the most unpredictable moments. And oh did you hate it. You hated it because you knew they left you exposed to everyone around you; you could be hurt by even those who had nothing but good intentions.

Nothing needed to be said, however. Hendery just smiled and pulled you into a loose embrace against his chest. You didn’t protest because admittedly you liked the feeling and this wasn’t out of the normal for the two of you. Being friends for so long, Hendery had seen you at almost all of your lowest points, and you’d seen him at his. Each time, you’d helped each other back to your feet and move past whatever obstacle had knocked you down. You quite liked the feeling of knowing that you had someone who would be there for you no matter what. But now that Hendery was leaving, were things still going to be the same?

“Ah, worried that you’re not going to be able to get into enough trouble without me,” he teased, still holding you close to him. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and it made your heartbeat quicken ever so slightly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you can get into trouble without–”

“It’s not just that,” you cut him off abruptly, placing your hands against his chest to step back slightly. You were so focused on the torrent of emotions in your chest and trying to control your heartbeat that you failed to notice Hendery change his embrace, and his hands rested gently on your waist.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

Do I really have the guts to tell him? You wondered to yourself. This question, again... It just loved to irritate you and invade your conscious at all the wrong times. “Yeah,” you let out a slightly shaky breath and refused to meet Hendery’s concerned yet curious eyes. “You know, you’re my best friend and I’m just a bit sad that you’re moving away from here,” you explained. Well, while it wasn’t the full truth, it wasn’t a lie either. While you were proud and ecstatic that Hendery was finally achieving a once-in-a-life-time opportunity, selfishly you were still upset to see your best friend go. Things were always like this; you could never fully express what you wanted to. Maybe being an actress and portraying fake personas was the only thing you were good at. Because while you immersed yourself in make-believe personalities and struggles, you failed time and time again to figure out your own troubles and express your own desires.

Of course, I don’t have the guts to tell him…

“You’re not going to get rid of me so easily,” Hendery clicked his tongue, almost as if he was scolding you. “I’m afraid to say,” he lifted up a hand close to your face, “you’re stuck with me,” he booped your nose. You stepped back a bit further in surprise, and Hendery’s grip on you disappeared. For a moment it seemed that something flashed across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Hendery quickly walked over to his computer on the desk and began to rummage through the papers, looking for his keys. As he rummaged, your eyes skimmed over all of the photos on his bulletin board. It brought a bittersweet smile to your face as you spotted several of the two of you. All of them were happy and joyous memories, but each one left a faint bitter taste in your mouth, like a splash of lemon, as they reminded you that such times may not be possible in the future. You rubbed your arms softly as you gazed at one of the photos, in which you were both smiling brightly at the camera behind massive cat-eyed sunglasses and frilly scarves. A few months ago Hendery had taken you to visit one of his friends in Hong Kong. His friend threw a small party and there had been a massive prop box next to a photo booth. Being the ridiculous duo that you were, you’d spent over half an hour taking dramatic photos together in a photo booth with a wide variety of accessories.

“Y/n, are you sure this is a good idea? Your parents think that you are behaving yourself, and what if a photo of their intoxicated daughter gets out onto the internet.”

“Yo, easy solution – the bigger my sunglasses and hat are, the less likely my parents will recognize me.”

The memory forced a smile onto your face, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, which were clouded with a layer of sadness. Like all good things, nothing this good could last forever, surely. This really was your last night with your best friend, but it was still nice that he was taking time out of his schedule to spend it with you. That had to count for something, right?

Beneath the billboard, you spotted a yellow envelope. There was nothing that unique about it but something about the small item still called to you. You found yourself reaching for it, only for Hendery to snatch it away.

“Hey, what was that for?” You exclaimed, pouting.

“Some things are not meant for strange, prying eyes, you know,” he explained as he tucked the card into his jeans’ pocket.

“You’re not going to let me see?”

His expression wavered for a moment from one of teasing disapproval to slight remorse. “Well, maybe later, but not right now.” Then he went back to looking for his keys, as you stood by and watched.

“Okay, I got them!” Hendery exclaimed, holding up his keys. He pulled his red jacket off the back of the chair and began to put it on. “Are you ready to go to the Thai place?” His question drew you out of your trance.

“Huh?” Your eyes whipped back to his half-packed suitcase and scattered clothes on the floor. “But aren’t you in the middle of packing? Don’t you want to finish before we go out?” You quizzed, turning back in Hendery’s direction.

He just shrugged and twirled the keys around his fingers. “Well it’s clear that I’m going to get nothing done with you around, so I’ll just finish after dinner,” he explained. Before you could take a step toward the door, Hendery had moved behind you and began pushing you toward the exit. “Now come on,” he persuaded with a soft smile. “Let’s go since it’s just going to get busier and I have to sleep before my flight tomorrow.” He paused after the sentence, and you turned back to look at him. He had a strange look on his face like he was thinking about something worrying, something personal. You wondered just what was going on inside his mind. But before you could ask, he cut you off.

“Do you still want to come to the airport tomorrow with me?” He asked, but the questioned wavered with uncertainty almost like he was afraid you were going to say no.

“Yes, of course, I’m coming” you reassured, pulling your signature half-smile back into place. “How could you think that I’d let you leave without saying goodbye. I’m bringing a massive poster and everything,” you trailed off with a small laugh.

Both of you knew that you were joking about the poster, but your reassurance seemed to bring some relief to Hendery. A small smile reappeared on his face and the creases of stress began to ebb away. “Okay, good,” he replied quietly and you weren’t sure if he was speaking to you or more to himself.

Why did it have to be so hard to tell him how you actually felt? Every time you mustered up what little actual courage you had and faced him with the intention of coming clean, your voice always failed and your emotions broke the dam that was supposed to keep them secure. Each time the world seemed to shake and it felt as if the sky was going to come crashing down. It was just a few simple words, just the honest truth. So why was the truth the hardest thing for you to say to him? You weren’t sure if it was because you were afraid to admit it or you were just incapable of coherent and adult conversation. While you were a skilled actress, you never had been good with personal things, and especially formulating your words. If you had any control over these feelings you would banish them because to you there really was nothing more tragically cliche than this.

Hendery took you by the wrist and began to tug you down the hallway after him, saying: “if you’re going to be this slow, then I guess I’ll just have to drag you to the restaurant.” Your heart jumped slightly at the action and that strange feeling that you hated so much somersaulted in your gut.

“Hey, you could act a bit more chivalrous,” you called out to him as you both burst out the front door into the busy, bustling night of Macau. All you got in return, however, was his usual laugh. Nevertheless, you still smiled.

Yes, there was nothing more tragic – tragically comedic? – than realizing that you were in love with your best friend, a best friend who was destined for great things that didn’t involve you. What a classic cliche modern tragedy.

•••

The loud bass of the club music was just a blurred hum in your ears; dimmed red and blue flashing lights danced across every inch of your figure and every bottle of alcohol that you were currently eyeing up from your barstool. There was something so tempting about alcohol; it was alluring and welcoming, but still dangerous and extremely destructive. Hah, it’s just like love, you realized. Your e/c eyes skimmed over each label with an intense focus as if analyzing something forbidden that you would never see again.

Lifting your glass, you downed the last of your drink. While it burned the back of your throat ever so slightly, you enjoyed even more the feelings of lightness and peace that the drink inflicted on you. You felt as if you were floating, as if the weight of all your responsibilities, worries, and unanswered questions had suddenly disappeared from your shoulders. You knew that it was only a temporary feeling paired with an unhealthy habit, but the sensation of freedom was still nice and you welcomed it.

You dropped your glass and beckoned to the waiter with your hand, immediately gaining his attention. “Yo, Eric, can I get another glass please,” you called out to him.

“No, actually she’s had enough for right now! Thank you, Eric,” Hendery spoke up next to you, dismissing the waiter. Eric, the bartender, lingered for a few seconds in confusion before several other young adults waved him over to take their orders. Meanwhile, Hendery stealthily moved your empty glass away from you.

You groaned and turned to look at him in your slightly drunken stupor. You pouted out your lower lip, slumping down on the bar. “Aw, and here I thought you were going to be more fun tonight,” you complained slowly. Spotting your drink in his hand you tried to steal it back, but Hendery just moved it farther with apparent ease. “Heeeenderrry, pleeease,” you whined, trying to reach for the glass. “I swear, I’m, like, totally fine right now. I–”

“Nuh-uh,” Hendery just shook his head and turned on his barstool to face you. “No more drinks for you, at least not for now,” he declared loudly over the beat of the music with a tone of authority. You just groaned and rolled your eyes in protest as he patted your back gently.

God, why was he always like this, so attentive, cautious, and caring? He was acting like a responsible older brother, keeping a careful eye on their more reckless younger sibling. You weren’t sure for which reason you hated his behavior more, because a destructive part of you wanted to get absolutely obliterated tonight or because he probably saw you as a sister, and you clearly didn’t see him the same way. Maybe – definitely – it was a combination of both factors.

You weren’t sure how long you had been zoning out, but you were suddenly brought back to reality by Hendery snapping his fingers in front of your face. You didn’t lift your head from the bar but shifted to look up at his face. “Do you want to do something or stay here and recover,” you think you heard him ask, but it was so loud in the club that you weren’t certain if you’d actually heard him or not. Maybe in hindsight, those three drinks hadn’t been the best idea. Hendery was still watching you with a mildly concerned expression, so you smiled at him through your drunk giggles. The pulsing lights decorated each angle and crevice of his face and neck, painting him like an abstract canvas. Maybe it was partially due to your tipsy state, but you remembered thinking about how special and handsome he looked in that particular moment.

Do you want to do something? The question echoed in the back of your mind, and you smiled slightly even though it was meant for yourself. If I was more capable of handling my emotions, I’d kiss you and tell you how I really felt, you idiot. But of course, you couldn’t. A part of you twinged with regret that you still couldn’t admit your honest feelings even in such a state. Weren’t people supposed to be at their boldest and most honest while drunk? Well, perhaps it didn’t matter. After all, you were with each other right now, and you both should make the most of your experience. That was good enough for you.

Slinking off your barstool with a drunk smile, you took him by the hands, pulling him along with you toward the raging dance floor. “Come on,” you called, looking back at him through hazy eyes. “Let’s go dance!”

•••

“Y/n, I have something really important that I want to tell you.” You never found out what Hendery wanted to tell you because you both got swept away by the dancefloor.

You couldn’t recall everything that happened on the dancefloor. You just remembered how loud and packed it was with young adults in similar if not more drunken states. The music had just been a blur in your ears as you moved your body to the rhythm. One thing you did remember though was holding on to Hendery’s hand the entire time to make sure that you wouldn’t get separated in the massive crowd of chaos. And as you smiled and danced next to him, he’d smiled and danced along too. For a second, everything felt normal; it was like you were the only two people on the dance floor, and the world didn’t exist around you; it had been almost the perfect reality, and you had wanted to live in that moment forever.

But then some other drunk accidentally spilled his drink all over your shirt, ruining the illusion. Like any good friend, Hendery had quickly pulled you off the dance floor toward the restrooms. There he insisted that you change into his jacket because there was no way he was going to take you home looking like that. Even drunk, you reasoned that it was better to not show up at your home smelling of alcohol so you accepted his offer.

I really do look like a hot mess right now, you mused to yourself as you tried to wipe away the smears of alcohol off your skin with a wet paper towel. You were aware that there was no feasible way that you were going to clean this all off, but at least Hendery had given you his jacket. Pushing your hair back, you zipped up the red jacket and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Well, at least you looked a bit more put together now. Behind the sharp smell of sweat and alcohol, the jacket smelled like him. Your eyes widened slightly. Whoa, hold on, now that you thought about it, wasn’t this something that boyfriends did with their girlfriends? Oh my god. At the realization, that familiar untamed feeling backflipped in your stomach, and you immediately shouted at the feeling to dissipate.

You shoved open the door to see Hendery standing against the wall in his white tank top, waiting for you. He straightened up as he spotted you exit, and for a second it looked as if he’d lost his breath. But you’d shared clothes many times before, so why was he acting this way now? It was a bit weird, but you quickly dismissed it and walked over to him.

The two of you walked outside and were greeted by the cool night air. While the night was still alive with rushing cars and bustling people, you felt a sense of peace. “Do you want to go home?” Hendery asked.

A smirk crawled onto your lips as you eyed him. “Trying to get rid of me already, huh,” you teased, laughing and punching his shoulder lightly.

“I didn’t mean it like–”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” you replied, tacking on, “let’s walk to the waterfront at least and then we can finally head back home.” Let’s just make this night as long as possible. After all, it would be your last one together for a while.

You and Hendery walked up the street, side by side, taking in all of the night festivities. Sign lights blinked, cars honked, and people bustled along the streets. You talked some, bringing up old funny and sentimental memories. While they were all sweet memories, there was now a certain bitterness to them as the reality of your situation hit you: you were scared of losing your best friend. You knew that in actuality you weren’t losing him, but the possibility of such a thing still terrified you. While the night brought a sense of peace, the storm inside your gut continued to rage, growing more vicious with each passing moment. Calm on the outside, everything was a whirlwind just beneath the skin. You only hoped that these feelings would dissipate.

But they didn’t.

And as you neared the waterfront, the dam containing your emotions broke and you lost control. Stopping in your walk, you drew in a shaky breath and Hendery turned to face you, seeming slightly concerned.

“Is everything ok–” he began to ask, but you cut him off before he could get a full sentence out.

“I–Hendery,” your words had become like putty in your mouth, intangible and incomprehensible. You could feel your heart beat rapidly in your throat, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the words coming out of your mouth. “I–ha, you know, like, I’m bad with words, but I-uh, I really want to kiss you right now.”

“What?” he replies just above a whisper, and the bewildered tone matched perfectly with how you were feeling on the inside. The way he said it though leaves you confused as to whether he didn’t understand what you had just said or was in shock because of that. But none of that mattered at the moment.

Feeling like a puppet in your own skin, you took a few steps toward him until you were standing right in front of him. You tilted your chin to look up at him, and the second you met his eyes you realized that he had his own storm raging inside of him. The look in his eyes revealed that a million thoughts and questions seemed to be rushing through his mind, but you couldn’t understand a single one of them. Your mind was elsewhere.

I’m such a hot mess, a rational realization surfaced in your mind that was still spinning at a hundred miles an hour. Yes, maybe you were a hot mess, but at least you were an honest one. You accepted the fact that you were scared of losing your connection with one of the people who mattered most to you, and you resented that you hadn’t been fully honest with him about your true feelings. And like people say, there is no time like the present; aided by the effects of alcohol, you reasoned that this was the best opportunity you were going to get to be open.

“You idiot,” you whispered as hot liquid built up in the corners of your eyes. You jabbed your finger into his chest. “D-don’t you see that I like you.”

You weren’t sure who acted first, whether you kissed him or he kissed you, but it happened. It was a soft and short kiss, but despite that you could feel the depth and emotions of affection and long-time longing behind the action. It was when you pulled away that the embarrassment of the situation finally hit your finally sobering mind.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry,” you pulled back and your hands flew to your face. While a large part of you was relieved that you had finally come clean, another part of you was burning with embarrassment. “I don’t know what overcame me. I just–you know–ha ha,” your explanation was no more coherent than your earlier statement, and you laughed half-joylessly half-embarrassed as you wiped a tear from your eye.

Only once your mind and gut began to calm down did you look up. Hendery was still watching you, and when you met his eyes this time you felt calm. It was strange because usually you felt the frantic wings of butterflies almost every time you were with him, but now that feeling was replaced by serenity. You weren’t sure why this was, but you weren’t sure you wanted to understand either.

“Oh, come here,” Hendery cut off your babbling by pulling you into an embrace up against his chest. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, but you didn’t resist. Rather, your body seemed to instinctively relax into the embrace. “I really like you, too,” he mumbled against the top of your head.

Like usual, your words failed you, and you weren’t sure how to respond so you just reciprocated the hug. Actions seemed to speak louder than words because as you stood there intertwined everything became clear; all your uncertainties disappeared, and your mind felt clear. You knew exactly what he meant, and he understood you.

After some time you began to speak again. “I would never guess you could love a mess like me,” you admitted, still smiling as you drew away from him. You both continued walking toward the approaching waterfront, but this time your fingers were just barely hooked around each other.

“Maybe I’m just drawn to destruction,” Hendery chuckled lightly at the comment. “You’re like a tornado, but a very cute and lovable tornado.”

That might have been the strangest compliment you’d ever received, but it still brought a large smile to your face and made sparks ignite in your chest.

You approached the waterfront and stared out at the open darkness. On the other side of the water, you could make out the lights aligning buildings, shops, and bridges against the night sky. You both used to spend a lot of time down by the waterfront together when you were younger. It felt sentimental coming back to it after all this time, but there was also a sense of closure.

“Um, I know you think you’re the only one bad with words here,” Hendery started, “but I’m pretty bad myself.” That caused you to turn and look at him. He looked a bit nervous, but there was still a small smile on his face, which let you know that everything was okay. Before you could ask what he meant by that, he pulled out the small yellow envelope from his pocket. It was the same one that you’d tried to pick up from his desk earlier that evening.

Hendery eyed it for a few seconds before he moved it in your direction. “I was going to give this to you later and tell you not to read it until after I left, but I guess that after this then it isn’t that important,” he explained as you took the envelope from him.

“What’s in it?” You asked without looking up.

“A few photographs and a letter...where I say I love you,” he admitted in an almost timid manner. He looked almost like a young boy shyly confessing to his crush, how cute.

You opened up the envelope and pulled out of the photographs. Another wide smile immediately manifested itself on your face as you looked down at one of the photos. You were both smiling widely at the camera in summer clothing as the waterfront rested just behind the two of you. Gosh, you both looked so young. You remembered this day. It was after your first day of high school, and you and Hendery had set off down by the waterfront to talk about your first impressions of the school and all the teachers. Now that you thought about it, you were standing in the exact same spot as that day.

Turning to Hendery, you declared excitedly, “let’s take a photo together!”

“Right now? In the dark?” He questioned, seeming confused.

You rolled your eyes and placed your hands on your hips. “Come on, it’s our last night together and I want it to be special with you. We might as well take a second to memorialize the moment,” you suggested, quickly adding, “plus, phones’ cameras have a flash on it.”

Hendery looked like he was thinking about it for a second before nodding his head in agreement and smiling. Excited, you quickly moved over next to him. Hendery smiled at your excitement and wrapped an arm around your waist, as you both looked up into the camera that you held. Behind you, the city lights reflected off the dark water. Just as you went to click the button, you felt Hendery kiss your cheek. You visibly blushed and couldn’t force away the smile on your face. You hoped that the camera captured the moment.

Yet, when you brought the phone close for your viewing, only the home screen greeted you. Wait, what?

“The app crashed!” You exclaimed in shock.

“See this is why you didn’t major in film and photography,” Hendery teased next to you, giving you a slight squeeze. “You don’t know how to operate a camera properly. We really need to buy you some professional lessons.” You knew that his teasing was all in good spirit.

“You think this is all my fault,” you gasped, turning on him. Waving your arms, you declared, “I take one photo of you and the camera breaks! You’re obviously cursed.”

“Only because I let myself be around you,” he replies as he pulls you into another embrace. You weren’t sure what would happen now or what would become of you in the future, but you were satisfied with the present and that is what mattered most at the moment. You knew that you were a bit of a mess, but that was okay because Hendery and others seemed to love that about you. And sometimes messes were necessary because you would not be able to discover things without cleaning them up. Because while your heart may have been a mess, at least it was an honest one.

“Looks like I’m going to have to hire the best security at my concerts, hmm.”

You smiled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

#Hendery #wong kunhang #hendery x reader #kunhang x reader #nct hendery #wayv hendery #wayv #nct #nct x reader #wayv x reader #fluff #writing #kpop scenario #kpop

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malecsecretsanta · 5 years ago

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Merry Christmas, @cardiamachina!

This was a real joy to write, mostly because it's a very different fic to what I normally do. I'm super hoping the light angst isn't too much as I know angst was a dislike!

I hope this exploration of immortal husbands makes for a satisfying Christmas gift. I always like to explore decisions and choices in my fic, so this was a really lovely opportunity for me to actually write some of my feelings on why - or why not - Alec and Magnus should be eternal.

Merry Christmas!

Read on AO3

******

A Malec Christmas Carol

Chapter 1: Christmas Eve

“Oh come out, you little bugger,” Magnus swore under his breath as he levered the Angelica out by the root. This would be much easier if he had Alexander by his side - the plant responded to Angel blood and practically leaped into his hands - but he’d nearly run out, Christmas Eve was the full moon and he couldn’t begrudge Alec spending this night with his family. Especially not as last year Magnus had whisked him off to Madagascar for some winter sun. And if he was honest, to watch Alec’s delight as lemurs cheerfully romped over them both, stealing fruit out of their hands. Magnus thought of it like an extension of their honeymoon.

But that indulgence last Christmas left him alone this Christmas Eve, collecting plants by the shore of Lake Lyn, bathed under the cold eerie light of the full moon. Absolutely fucking freezing as well, he thought ruefully. And no Alexander later in his bed to warm him up. Ah well, he would be back tomorrow and they would have Christmas together. Maybe a warm crackling fire and hot toddies and Magnus could conjure a fluffy rug to lay Alexander down on. Magnus grinned to himself and moved to the crop of Blessed Thistle growing out between two rocks. Planning and anticipation was really half the fun.

Two plants obtained, he placed them carefully in his herb pouch and stood, brushing dirt from his knees. It was a fair trek back to the loft in Alicante and Magnus contemplated a portal, but the combination of full moon and mildly holy plants on his person sometimes did funny things to his magic. He sighed, pulled his scarf closer about his neck, and set off, the light of the moon illuminating the way. It was astonishing, really, how bright the moon could be on dark nights, even with the rebuilt towers of Alicante twinkling like beacons in the distance. It was pleasant, really. Had he thought the light was cold and icy before? It seemed to glow now, warmer and warmer, golden round the edges.

Magnus became aware of several things at once.

One, the moon is not golden, nor does it give off warmth. So that was definitely not the damn moon. Two, there was a faint ringing in his ears, not like he’d been to a loud gig, but like thousands of bells and chimes were tangling and jingling in the distance. Three, there was an Angel suspended over Lake Lyn.

Magnus froze, eyes riveted to the vision in front of him. He felt detached from his body, so suddenly immersed in panic he’d come out the other side into a zen-like calm as the Angel opened his mouth and spoke his name.

His real name.

Magnus swallowed.

“Son of the Angel Asmodeus, former-prisoner of Edom. Or do you now prefer Magnus Bane,” the Angel continued, not really making it sound like a question.

“Lightwood-Bane,” Magnus corrected, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth and finding his voice. He wasn’t sure he could move any of his limbs, whether by the Angel’s doing or his own fear, he didn’t know. But Angels didn’t appear to Downworlders. Angels especially didn’t appear to the sons of Fallen Angels, Princes of Hell. His eyes adjusted to the light emanating from the Angel and he raked over his appearance, looking for clues as to his identity. Handsome, muscular, scarred - scarred - piercing blue eyes and a long spear with a fluttering white scrap of material clasped in his hand.

Michael then. General of the armies of Heaven. Banisher of his father. Banisher of Lucifer .

Magnus was in trouble. And he’d never get to tell Alexander goodbye.

“I come to you now to offer you payment.”

He blinked, then shook his head as if to clear his ears, chimes still tinkling somewhere. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Payment. Or a reward, depending on how you wish to see it.” Michael spoke in a slow monotone and Magnus failed to read any emotion in his words.

“What have I done that could possibly lead to a reward from the Archangel Michael?” Magnus asked, not trusting anything. This could be a hallucination. A trick from a demon. A prank of a Warlock, not that he was aware of any in Alicante right then.

And yet, he knew. He knew in his bones, in what passed for a soul deep inside, that this was Michael. The real Michael in front of him.

He tried to make himself remember that the Angels were cruel. They’d only just allowed Clary to return to them. Oh, fuck . The probability that this was bad news statistically rocketed when he remembered Biscuit was back in the Shadow World.

“You prevented the destruction of our people. You protected Idris and the mortal world with your blood. Your immortal life. When you had much to stay for, you sacrificed all.”

Magnus cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at the Angel.

“Ye-es,” he dragged out. “I did that over a year ago.”

“Thirteen months, twenty-two days, fifteen hours and eleven minutes ago.”

“Can you tell me the seconds too?” Magnus quipped before he could control his mouth.

“Magnus Lightwood-Bane,” the Angel intoned, his eyes narrowing slightly. Magnus felt a wave of energy swell over him, and he staggered against the sensation.

“Apologies,” he whispered, his mouth paper dry.

“We give to you the gift of immortal life.” Michael stopped, as if this was enough information.

Magnus waited for a few seconds and then opened his mouth, abruptly shutting it again. He did that a couple of times, before running on autopilot, shifting his weight to one hip and waving his hand around airily.

“I hate to sound ungrateful, but I’m already immortal. I know sometimes people can miss that because of the rest of the fabulous-ness, but that’s me. Living forever.”

There was a silence, slightly too long to be comfortable, and then Michael raised one eyebrow. Damn, Magnus was impressed by how sarcastic that one gesture was.

“Who said it was for you? It’s a gift. That you can give to someone else, if you wish it.”

All colour drained from Magnus’ face and he sat down on the earth, collapsing with a thud.

“No,” he whispered, staring at Michael with wide eyes. That couldn’t mean what he was taking it to mean. The Angels, they wouldn’t be that kind. His mind flashed to Alec, surrounded by his family when they’d moved to Alicante, hugging Izzy when she became the Head of the Institute, looking so proud and full of love. No, but they’d be that cruel.

“Are you… are you saying I have the power to make anyone immortal?”

Michael inclined his head once. “Yes. You would bind them to your life force, Magnus Lightwood-Bane. You would protect him with your life.”

“Him?” Magnus echoed hollowly. He hated that Michael could see right through him.

“We see all,” was all Michael replied, and Magnus shuddered. Great, voyeuristic Angels, that’s all his libido needed.

“You have until the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Day to perform the ritual,” Michael continued, and suddenly in Magnus’ mind the knowledge of how to do it, how to bind Alec to his own immortal life force, dropped in like it had always been there. Like he’d always known. It felt obscene, a violation, horrifically unnatural, and Magnus gasped, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple. His herb pouch grew heavier with the small Adamas dagger that the ritual required. They had thought of everything, which is why Magnus, after being tricked by Lilith and his father, was instantly suspicious.

“What’s the catch? Forgive my candour, but we haven’t exactly been used to the generosity of Angels.”

“No? Did Ithuriel not give his life for Clarissa Morgenstern? Have we not guided and protected your loved ones through troubles of their own making? Did Raziel not grant Clarissa’s wish?”

“And then erased her life because she saved hundreds of Nephilim, causing untold pain to those I care about,” he retorted.

“I am not compelled to justify our decisions.” Magnus could make out the beginning hints of colour high on Michael’s cheeks, his lips compressed into a thin line. “We move to God’s will.”

“You’re saying it’s God’s will that Alexander lives forever,” he scoffed, his scepticism rising. There was always something in return. Nothing was ever free.

“And we will not be questioned,” Michael continued as if Magnus hadn’t spoken, the light around him growing dim, the edges of his body beginning to blur and fade. It was a disconcerting effect, not least because it meant the Angel was leaving.

“Well, I’m going to question you anyway. What do you want from me - from Alec?” Magnus held out his hand as if he could entreat Michael to stay longer, aware his voice edged into pleading for answers.

“It’s a gift, Magnus Lightwood-Bane. You may choose to ignore it, and he will remain mortal and die in time.”

“And if I ask him to share my immortal life? Does he remain - is he still..?” Magnus trailed off, swallowing around the words. Despite Alexander’s ludicrous demand to become a vampire to join Magnus in Edom, Magnus had never been able to separate the Shadowhunter from the man. Especially when Alec had so recently been promoted and could finally begin to make real, systemic changes to the Clave.

“He will always be my kin,” Michael answered evasively, which honestly was not as reassuring as Magnus wanted it to be.

“As will you,” the Angel continued, which was possibly even more alarming. Michael’s form faded even further until Magnus could make out the woods behind him.

“Your ki… no, wait. Don’t leave!”

“Until midnight on Christmas Day, Magnus Lightwood-Bane, son of Asmodeus,” the Angel intoned and then winked out of existence as if he’d neer been there. Magnus sat staring at the spot for Lilith knew how long, frozen to the ground, unmoving until his leg cramped and jolted him out of his reverie.

“Ow, shit,” he hissed, digging his palm into the muscle of his calf. Magnus forced himself to his feet, brushing at his clothing, and then risked a look inside his pouch. Out of season lavender curled around the simple hilt of an Adamas dagger. There was a small pouch next to it, and Magnus lifted it out with trembling numb fingers. White Willow bark. Perfect for Moon magic and symbolising long-lasting love. It wasn’t necessary for the ritual - spell, he would say, but somehow instinctively knew the Angels would not want it called that - but it would strengthen the effectiveness, he supposed. They really wanted this to work.

Which meant they had some purpose for Alec to keep living.

Magnus walked home lost in his thoughts, snapping a fire to life in the fireplace automatically when he got inside. He placed the pouch carefully in his study and locked the door, not wanting Alec to find it. Not until he’d talked to him.

How the fuck was he going to talk to him? How could he spring something so momentous on his husband?

Would Alec even want to spend eternity with him?

Magnus shook his head and went back into his study, rooting around for Bearberry and Blue Sage, then threw the herbs into his cauldron. He added brandy because he might as well enjoy the drink, and muttered an incantation for guidance, appealing to the spirits to give him clear thought and a calm mind. Straining it into his mug, he tidied up and relocked the door, making his way to bed.

Even the brandy couldn’t fully mask the bitterness of the drink but he forced it down and prepared for bed, taking off his makeup and settling in for the night. Shooting a goodnight text to Alexander, he turned off the lights and prepared for sleep, hoping that his dreams would hold the answers.

Chapter 2: Past

“Tsk. Well at least you had some sense to ask for my opinion, seeing how well it served you last time. Come on, open your eyes you dramatic old goat, and have some more brandy. ”

Magnus frowned and blinked open his eyes. He was fully dressed, sat in front of a roaring fire in what looked like his old London townhouse, sharing a very good vintage from 1862 with Ragnor Fell.

“So. Not in Alicante, then.”

Ragnor snorted. “Still as quick as ever. Honestly, how you managed to become a High Warlock of anything with a brain as slow as treacle I’ll never know.” He settled back into the large Chesterfield and sipped from his glass, harrumphing into it.

“Slept my way to the top,” Magnus said automatically, falling back into their old banter before startling forward.

“ Ragnor .”

“What is it, you histrionic clothes horse?”

“Am I dead? Are you alive? Why am I in London? Where’s Alexander?” Magnus demanded answers in an increasingly belligerent tone. Ragnor thwapped him in the knee with one slippered foot and Magnus subsided, glaring.

“Because the higher powers have a terrible and literal sense of humour, I’m meant to tell you I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past. I like to think of it as me sensibly and altruistically preventing you from making a terrible mistake of course. Again. As per usual. Come on, get up.” He rose to his feet, brushing down his velvet trousers and smoothing his cravat.

“Mistake?” Magnus echoed, clambering to his feet. He looked at his brandy glass, debated putting it down and instead polished it off in one gulp. If he was going to have vivid dreams like this he was going to enjoy the free booze.

“In your love life, of course. I apologize for missing your first wedding, but I had to RSVP on account of being dead.”

“Ragnor,” Magnus said again, tears springing to his eyes as he pulled Ragnor into a hug. “My oldest friend.”

“Stop touching me,” Ragnor said, wheezing slightly from having his ribs squeezed. “This is very unbecoming.”

“I miss you, you grumpy cabbage,” Magnus grinned and gave him one last squeeze. “Why are you my Ghost of Christmas Past?”

“Because apparently you've forgotten the lessons you so painfully learned.”

“And what lessons might those be?”

Ragnor raised his eyebrows and beckoned him to follow, opening the door of the parour they had been in to the dining room. There in front of them, was himself - exactly as he had been, beautifully brocaded frock coat and laced cravat, rubies in his ear. His hair was parted low on one side and swept over with waved ends and he looked thoroughly, utterly miserable.

The explanation for his misery sat opposite, drinking blood from a wine glass.

The Magnus of the present turned to Ragnor. “Really?” he asked. “If we’re going to remind me of all my terrible love choices, could we not have gone with something a little less… vicious?”

Ragnor nudged him. “Shut up, Magnus. Just watch.” Magnus sighed and went back to observing himself and Camille.

“I was thinking perhaps we could take in a ballet. Or the theatre. Something festive for New Year’s.”

“Mmm,” Camille replied noncommittally, running a finger round the edge of her wine glass, not raising her gaze. “Could we not do something a little more exciting, darling? One does get so tired of the same faces at this time of year.”

“Perhaps a trip, then?” Magnus rose and held out his hand towards her and after a moment she acquiesced with a small sigh, rising to her feet gracefully and taking his hand, although she dropped it before they got to the settee. She tucked herself into the corner and ignored him in favour of inspecting her shoes.

“A trip? Well, I do so like to travel. New places, new people…”

“New opportunities for presents,” Magnus teased her and snapped a wrapped thin box into his hands.

Camille finally looked up and squealed, becoming the most animated she’d been. She held out her hand palm up. “Magnus! You shouldn’t have. We said we weren’t doing anything this year.”

“I know, my dove, but I do like to spoil you. And I know how much you had your eye on this.” Camille graced him with one of her wide smiles as Magnus handed her the box.

A stunning array of emeralds greeted her when she opened the box, tearing the wrapping greedily and then cooing at the contents. “Oh, Magnus.”

“Green to match your eyes. May I?” Magnus leaned over and delicately took the necklace from the box while Camille turned her back to him and smoothed her long hair off the nape of her neck, moving the heavy mass out of the way. Magnus secured the necklace around her and trailed his fingertips through the silky strands as he gently pulled her hair back into place, fingers curling through her ringlets.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

“Magnus, I haven’t even turned around yet.”

“I know you’re beautiful, my love.”

Camille laughed, that high tinkling laugh that now set his teeth on edge and finally rose, turning around. She was a vision, her hair half piled high on top of her head and ringlets curling down her back, her eyes clear and painted colour high on her cheeks. The low neckline of her burgundy dress perfectly complemented her pale shoulders, bare and glowing in the light of the fire. The emeralds sparkled and her green eyes shone.

Magnus leaned towards her, expecting a kiss. Camille ducked away from his embrace and ran straight to the mirror, laughing again when she saw herself, turning this way and that to catch the light in her new gems.

“Oh, we must go out!” she exclaimed. Magnus trailed after her.

“Camille, it’s Christmas Day.”

“Yes, which means there’ll be a party somewhere. Oh, honestly Magnus, stop being such a bore. I want to go out!” She ignored him and went to ring the bell for her maid.

“I thought,” Magnus started, his voice sounding hesitant. “I thought we could just spend tonight with the two of us. Have a romantic evening.”

From this angle, the Magnus of the present could see Camille’s mouth thin and her nostrils flare, before she put on a beseeching expression and turned back around.

“Oh my love,” she cooed again, her voice soft and wheedling. “But you’ve given me such a lovely surprise gift, how can I not want to go show it off? To show everyone how much you love me? You know how I enjoy making all those miserable people jealous of what we have.” She pressed her lips to Magnus’ cheek, taking his hands in hers.

“Just this once, Magnus, please? We’ll be home well before dawn and can spend the whole day in bed tomorrow, just you and I. I’ll wear nothing but this wonderful necklace.” She kissed under his ear and Magnus made a content noise.

“How can I ever say no to you?”

“I don’t think I ever want you to try,” she giggled and then clapped her hands with joy before turning away from him yet again.

“That’s quite enough of that,” harrumphed Ragnor and he waved his hands, the scene in front of them fading.

“And your point is?” Magnus drawled, surprised at how little seeing that memory again hurt. “I was content once upon a time to spend the rest of my immortal life with one person. My choice of person was not the greatest. I am well aware that Alexander is not Camille.”

“But he could be,” Ragnor said and Magnus looked at him in surprise.

“Do you really think so?”

“Immortality changes us, old friend. Love no longer seems so important if you know it is eternal.”

Magnus frowned. “You told me to chase love! And hold on to it!”

“When I felt you closing yourself off to even trying,” Ragnor countered. “You put everything into making Camille’s life happy with scant thought for yourself. I don’t want you going down that road again.”

He shook his head, wondering where this was coming from. “Camille and I had very different views on love. Yes, she and I were happy - for a long time. But it became a lie. I don’t think the same thing would happen.”

Ragnor spread his hands in the universal sign for ‘maybe’ and sat back down, crossing his legs. “Forever is a long time. How can you be so sure you won’t tire of him, or he of you?”

Magnus started to follow him but stopped still at his words. His hand flew up to grasp at his chest, trying to soothe the sharp pain that ran through him.

“I… I can’t.” Magnus licked his mouth, feeling suddenly faint. “I don’t know if he’d stay with me.”

“Are you so willing to risk your eternal happiness on someone you can’t trust to be there for you forever?” asked Ragnor, arching his eyebrows. “I’m trying to protect you, Magnus. So that you protect your own heart. Grieving and loving again is more healthy than losing your love and wallowing until the end of time.”

“I’d like to avoid both,” Magnus said sharply. “He married me. There was an oath. ‘Til death separates us.” And Alexander would never go against his word, he reminded himself forcefully. Magnus could always trust in him.

“So you think the only thing keeping him with you would be his oath? Aren’t you worried he’d come to resent you, Magnus?” Ragnor voiced Magnus’ greatest fear, and Magnus loved him for it. Wanted to kick him at the same time, but still loved him for his honesty.

“I disagree,” came a new voice. “If anyone could make eternity work I would have said it would be Magnus and his Shadowhunter love.”

Magnus startled and turned, his eyes widening at who he saw. “Dot!” He rushed over and embraced her. “Dorothea, my wonder! I miss you. So, so much.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” she told him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Ignore grumpy here.” Ragnor made an offended noise.

“Come with me. I’m here to show you why this is a truly blessed gift, Magnus.” Magnus stepped forward to join her, but then looked back at Ragnor. He darted back to embrace him one last time, pressing a kiss to his forehead as Ragnor swatted him away.

“Goodbye, old friend. May we meet again.”

“Stop pressing your lipstick all over me.” Ragnor pushed him away but a small smile curved the corners of his mouth. “You may call upon me at any time.”

“Thank you, my dear cabbage.”

“I might not answer, but you can call.”

Magnus was still laughing as Ragnor faded away.

“Well,” Dot said brightly. “Let’s put all of that negative nonsense to bed, shall we?” And she took Magnus by the hand and stepped forward.

Chapter 3: Present

“You can’t let your past dictate your future,” Dot reminded him as she guided him through what looked like a nicely upmarket fitting room.

“How many Warlocks do you know that are in blissful immortal relationships?” he asked her.

“Ok, fair, they’re rare. But if you were willing to marry Alec, with no guarantee that either he or you would stay together even over 50 years, then why can’t you have faith in your love for longer?”

He fell silent, thinking that over. Dot lead him into the bright lights of a store that he instantly recognised as the men’s section of Bergdorf Goodman. Magnus looked around, surprised. A few yards away he spotted a familiar head of hair, easy to see as Alec was so tall. Magnus’ face brightened instantly and he instinctively began to move towards him.

“He can’t see you,” Dot said, linking her arm with his and stopping him short. “We’re not really here, remember?”

“Do I have to just watch again?” Magnus asked, not bothering to keep the annoyance from his voice. He wanted Alexander - to hold him and talk to him and look into his eyes to find the answers he so desperately needed.

“What we share with those who’ve known us the longest - when we know they won’t hesitate to call us on our lies to ourselves - that’s a gift to be able to overhear.” Dot gave him a knowing look. “Like you’ve not wanted to know how Alec talks about you behind your back.”

“I haven’t,” Magnus protested, and then realised that it was true. He’d never wanted to know how Alec spoke about him, simply because he trusted Alec to be honest with him first.

“Well maybe that’s a lesson in itself,” Dot chided him and drew them closer as the siblings shopped.

“Why didn’t you do this earlier? This is pretty last minute, Alec.”

“It’s not like Alicante is teeming with stores like this, Iz. This is Spring Versace.” Alec shook the sleeve of the shirt for emphasis.

“Ok, who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Isabelle grinned and nudged him with her shoulder while Alec blushed and went back to looking on the rack.

“It’s important to Magnus. Therefore it’s important to me,” he mumbled while she cooed.

“Oh, shut up.” Alec rolled his eyes and pulled out an artfully ripped sweater in an alarming shade of crocus.

“No, brother dear.” Izzy calmly steered his hand to place it back on the rack and Magnus thanked her silently. “Definitely not. Anyway, I think it’s very sweet. Simon. Well, Simon isn’t exactly high fashion.”

Alec’s face took on that mixture of fascinated horror that appeared whenever Simon was mentioned in front of him. “Is, um. Is everything alright with you two?” Magnus could see the internal war inside Alec as he waited for the answer.

“Honestly? Yes. It’s wonderful. Amazing, even. He’s sweet and kind and funny and he loves me. He’s really good for me.”

Alec’s shoulders relaxed a notch. “Why is there a ‘but’ about to happen?”

“I want kids,” Izzy burst out and promptly looked horrified. Alec dropped the shirt he was holding and wheeled around to stare at his sister.

“What?!”

“Not right now,” she hastily reassured him. “But. Someday. I want a family.”

“He’s a vampire.” Magnus rolled his eyes. Well done to Alec for pointing out the obvious.

“Yes Alec, we’re aware of that.” Izzy mirrored Magnus and rolled her own eyes. She brushed her hair out of her face and concentrated on a pile of soft silk scarves. “We’re trying to find a way around this.”

“Izzy, don’t you dare think about taking the bite. Don’t you-“ Izzy stopped him by placing her hand firmly against his chest.

“Don’t be an idiot. We’re trying to find a way to make Simon mortal again, obviously.” Magnus’ eyebrows shot up when he heard that. Oh, well done, Isabelle. If anyone had the determination to make that happen, it was her.

“Angel above, Iz. Is that even possible?”

Her mouth set in a determined line. “I’m going to find a way, Alec.” He blinked at her and then Alec’s face softened in acquiescence and he nodded, turning back to the clothing. He browsed the rack for a minute in silence, rolling his lips together to try to hide a smile. Magnus watched as Alec cleared his throat.

“But does it have to be Simon? Really?”

“Oh, you dick!” Izzy smacked him hard on the arm as Alec burst out laughing and then held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m kidding! Well, mostly. Izzy stop hitting me!”

Izzy flicked her hair back and visibly shook off her indignance, the corners of her mouth trying to curl as she fought a smile.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want kids?”

“We try for them nightly,” Alec said dryly and Magnus burst out laughing, echoed by Dot next to him.

“You’ve had an influence,” she murmured to Magnus and he smiled at her.

“Alec!” Izzy swatted him again. “Be serious. There’s nothing stopping you. There’s always children, warlock kids or orphaned Nephilim that need parents.”

“We have the same issue as you two, I guess.” Alec was concentrating too hard on the print on a very nice shirt, and Magnus realised he was gripping Dot’s hand. He grimaced in apology and let her go. She softly smiled at him and took his hand again, and his heart ached with missing her.

“Magnus is immortal and I’m not. It makes it harder, I guess. He’ll outlive any mortal children we could have.”

“Would you want him to be mortal?” Izzy stepped closer and put her hand comfortingly in his forearm, forcing him to turn to face her. Magnus held his breath.

“No,” Alec shook his head. “Raziel, no. We went through that and it’s not. Just no. I want him to live.”

Magnus breathed again.

“Would you... want to be immortal?”

“I.” Alec blew out his cheeks and shifted his weight on his feet, avoiding her gaze and Magnus leaned forward.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane, you answer me right now!” Izzy hissed and jerked his arm sharply.

“Ow, Iz, yes, yes , ok? If I could. I don’t want to leave him. I want a family and I want him and I want to see more of the world, his world. God, Izzy, I love him. And there’s so much to him and so much I want to experience with him and I’m not sure one lifetime is enough. Yes, ok? If it was possible, I’d want to be with him forever. But it’s not possible. And so I don’t allow myself to think about it.” Alec closed his eyes as if in pain and Magnus became aware of a keening noise. He looked around for the source and realised it was coming from him.

“Dot,” he whispered. “Dorothea, why are you showing me this?”

“Because you need to know. It’s only your own fears from stopping your happiness.”

“You’d be ok with not aging? All of us dying?” Izzy gestured to herself, sounding more curious than annoyed.

“Iz, I’m going to have to watch you die anyway. Or I’ll die first, whatever, but. Me not dying won’t make a difference to my family and most of the people I love being mortal.”

Alec sounded so practical. Magnus frowned. There was a difference to knowing everyone around you was going to die and being forced to live through it and live on without them.

“Even if you do have kids? Alec, you went crazy when Max was injured.” Izzy sounded as sceptical as Magnus felt.

“It was my fault.” Alec set his jaw and met Izzy’s eyes again. “Max nearly dying… that was my fault, Izzy. I should never have trusted Jonathan.” Magnus ached to touch him.

“How could you know?” Izzy demanded softly, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. “He was wearing a different face. And I vouched for him. I was the one who brought him in.”

“He was going to come to the Institute anyway,” Alec pointed out and Izzy rolled her eyes again.

“Yeah, and even if you hadn’t shoved him on security he probably would have hurt Max. So if you can cut me some slack, you can do the same for you, big brother.”

Alec finally smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. Alright!” he protested when she poked him as well for good measure.

“Can we please get back to picking out the last of my husband’s presents?” he asked, turning back to the clothing. “Now, he’s often mentioned someone Cavelli. Cavalli? Does that mean anything to you?”

“I’m gonna get you a subscription to Vogue,” Izzy threatened under her breath and grabbed Alec’s arm to steer him to a different section. Magnus wanted to get in their way, to demand Alec answer her about how he’d feel watching his mortal children age and die. To ask how Magnus could possibly deal with that, even with Alec at his side, because Magnus couldn’t even fathom living through that.

Instead, he looked back at Dot, feeling lost. She tilted her head and gave him a sympathetic look.

“It’s alright Magnus. You’ll see. He loves you beyond anything and the two of you are stronger together. This is what you’ve always wanted. Someone who challenges you, and supports you and will explore with you - by your side, forever. I wanted to give you that, but I wasn’t the right person.”

“Dot -” he started to say, intent on preventing her from any self-deprecating sentences, but she shushed him with one finger and then smiled.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Magnus Lightwood-Bane. I had a wonderful life, and I’m more than happy with the time I had and my choices. My purpose here is to help you do the same - and not regret for the rest of your life.”

“What if Alec regrets it for the rest of his life, Dot?”

“I’m not saying it’s easy being immortal. I’m not saying there won’t be times where he has to be reminded about perspective and priorities and all the things he takes for granted being mortal. But I don’t think for one second he’ll regret living for you, Magnus. Not one second.”

“You two are sickeningly in love,” a new voice chimed in and Magnus jumped, whirling around to look at the newcomer. She looked... familiar but not - a tall woman with a well-shaped afro. He squinted at her and she laughed, putting her hand up to her throat. A moment before she pulled the scarf off, he knew.

“Sweetpea!” he exclaimed, and she flew into his arms, still laughing.

“Definitely too big for you to pick up, Magnus,” she told him. “Time for you to say goodbye and come with me.”

He untangled himself from her embrace and enveloped Dot instead, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Goodbye darling Dorothea. I hope you rest well and that I see you again one day.”

“Never stop fighting for love, Magnus.” She squeezed his hand and kissed him back. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he whispered as Madzie grabbed his hand and began to pull him away. Dot waved goodbye and faded from sight, so he turned back to Madzie, who led him… right to the front door of their loft.

Chapter 4: Future

“So I’m your ghost of Christmas future, yeah? What I’m going to show you isn’t set in stone. But it is what your path is right now, where Alec remains mortal. Don’t worry, you’ll forget the specifics when you wake up, time travel’s a bitch on free will.”

“Language,” Magnus said automatically and then covered his mouth. Madzie laughed, bright and sudden.

“Yeah, you don’t shake that particular instinct for about another seventy years.”

“Well that’s just embarrassing.”

“Hazard of immortality. Max has it way worse.”

“Max? Why?”

Madzie’s eyes went wide and she gestured hurriedly. “Oh, not Uncle Max. Um, other Max. Baby Max. Ah, fuck it, just look.” She swirled her hand in front of her and the door opens to reveal what looked like a very chaotic Christmas.

Two dark-haired children ran past Magnus giggling as he walked into the living room, followed by an older, red-headed teenager.

“I swear to Raziel, if you two don’t stop running round, I’m telling Uncle Magnus that you broke the vase at Thanksgiving.” The two kids screeched to a halt and slunk back around the corner the way they came before bursting out into laughter and running off again. The girl - Magnus assumed Clary and Jace’s kid, grimaced and made throttling motions with her hands, before an older looking Isabelle, her hair shorter than Magnus had ever seen it, walked into the room.

“If you want to swipe a glass of wine I promise to look the other way,” she told the teen solemnly. “I often tell Simon that the twins are the reason we get through so many bottles every week.”

“It’s ok, Auntie Iz. They’re just hopped up on sugar and also the living incarnation of Satan,” the girl said, yelling the last part of that sentence in the direction of the twins.

“It looks like someone needs a very diluted mimosa,” came Magnus’ own voice, and then his future-self swanned into the room, his hair longer and pinned up in an elaborate fashion. He snapped his fingers and handed a glass that looked like it was mostly peach juice over to the teenager and then promptly summoned a bottle of champagne and two glasses and handed one to Isabelle. She fell upon it gratefully.

“Celine, you’re doing a marvellous job keeping them in line,” Magnus continued and gestured to the couch for them to sit.

Celine shook her head. “It’s ok, Magnus. I need to make sure they’re not trying to get Max to turn them into something weird. But I think Hannah could probably use one of these as well.” Magnus watched himself hand over another mimosa.

“It’s ok, I don’t think Max has quite mastered that trick yet.”

“It doesn’t seem to stop them all from trying,” Celine replied dryly and wandered off in search of the kids and this mysterious Max.

“So how much of our home do Izzy’s children destroy?” Magnus asked Madzie who was still standing next to him.

“So, so much,” she said without a hint of teasing. “You keep saying they remind you of Clary, given that the Herondale children all seem to actually respect rules.”

“I’m sure Biscuit and Blondie just love that.”

“They settle down a lot,” Madzie told him with a small smile. “Alec asked them to train Shadowhunters. Clary specialised in improvised weaponry and tactics.”

Magnus threw his head back to laugh. “That would definitely suit her.”

The front door opened behind them and a silver-haired Maryse and Luke arrived carrying bags overflowing with gifts.

“Where are my grandkids?” Maryse called and suddenly the entire loft swarmed with children of varying ages, all crowding round them for hugs and all chattering at them. Magnus moved out of the way of them, mildly alarmed, as his future self simply conjured another table and more champagne.

“Reinforcements,” sighed future-Magnus and Izzy together.

More noise as Clary, Jace and Simon spilled out of the kitchen to greet them, and Magnus turned to look at Madzie when he noticed the runes on Simon.

“The Mortal Cup,” Madzie told him. “Isabelle said she’d find a way and she did.”

“That’s amazing,” Magnus said, so happy for them. And then he looked up as his husband, temples flecked with grey, came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, followed by an unknown Nephilim teenager. Alec looked as beautiful as ever, more lines round his eyes but still full of the brightness of soul that had drawn Magnus to him in the first place.

“Papa,” the boy said, and Magnus watched to see which adult turned around. He looked Hispanic and spoke with a slight accent. He must be an orphan taken in by one of them, he assumed. Magnus admired his dark painted nails. Bold, for a Nephilim. Probably Izzy’s child.

His future self turned. “Yes, Raf?”

Everything inside Magnus stopped. He felt frozen, blinking rapidly to try to work out what was happening.

The youngest child broke away from the crowd by the door and ran back to Alec who dropped and swung him up into his arms.

“Daddy, can we open our gifts from Grandma and Grandpops?”

“Of course you can, Max,” Alec said as he bopped the boy on his horns, the boy flaring a bright blue as his glamour dropped and Magnus clutched at the wall behind him.

“Papa, presents!” The child cried out victoriously at future-Magnus, who was deep in conversation with Raf.

“What.” Magnus said faintly. “What.”

“Breathe, Magnus.” Madzie said, not unkindly. “Did you not think that this was a possibility?”

Magnus shook his head, avidly watching the scene in front of him as if he could commit it to memory. "We have sons. We have sons." The Clave had allowed them to adopt a Nephilim, for Raziel's sake. And a Warlock. And everyone was acting as if this was normal.

Raf held his arms out for Max and Max jumped down from Alec’s embrace and ran to his brother. “C’mon Max. We’ll put the presents under the tree and you can make sure everyone has one and then we can open them together.”

Alec looked approvingly at Raf’s words and dropped a kiss to the top of his head as he joined them, casually slinging his arm around Magnus as if this was a everyday occurrence. Them, and their kids. Their family .

Magnus let out an astonished wheeze while Madzie patted his arm in consolation, looking highly amused.

“Rafael’s finished basting the turkey and it will be about an hour,” Alec said as the boys ran off to drag Maryse and Luke into the living room, both of them stopping to kiss Magnus and Alec. “So we have time for presents and then everyone has to wash their hands.”

“Yes dad,” Clary said impishly as she moved past them and Alec stuck his tongue out at her which she immediately returned, both of them smiling at each other in a way that would be impossible in the present.

“This feels like the Twilight Zone,” Magnus said, looking at Madzie with wide eyes.

“Clary and Alec get really, really close after Max - Lightwood Max, not Lightwood-Bane Max - nearly dies. Again.”

“What happened?”

“He was defending the LA Institute. You and Alec are very popular but there’s a small faction of the Downworld and the Nephilim that really don’t like the two of you together. Call you race traitors. They went after Alec’s family. Alec of course blamed himself, because he always does. But Clary actually did kill her brother. They weirdly bond and I think she helped him to see it wasn’t his fault.”

“But he’s ok?”

“Yeah. He’s not here this year because he and his wife are on duty.”

Magnus nodded, still watching everyone settle down around the Christmas tree, ripping into presents - or in his and Alec’s case, taking the opportunity to make out behind an open book Magnus held up in front of their faces.

“Ewwwwww,” chorused Raf, Celine and Hannah while the adults laughed, Jace throwing a wadded up ball of wrapping paper at them.

“That’s enough, you two.”

“We’re missing date night tonight,” protested future-Magnus, flicking the ball away with magic towards Max, who did the same thing back at him, making it smack against Magnus’ forehead with a giggle.

Magnus drew in a sharp breath. “Please tell me I’m the cool dad.”

Madzie laughed and shook her head. “Actually you’re the over-protective one. Alec lets them run wilder than you’d prefer. But then he’d been holding a sword since the age of six, so it’s understandable he sees nothing wrong with them going on adventures. You just want your boys around you. It’s sweet, Magnus. They loved you both so much.”

“I hate that you keep using the past tense.”

“I can only show you the future I know.” Madzie tugged on his sleeve. “We have to move on, Magnus.”

“But I don’t want to go. I want to see how the lunch turns out.”

“Raf’s a great cook. But that’s not why we’re here and you know it.” She made a circling motion with her fingers and the scene in front of them sped up so that Magnus could only see flashes of life in the loft. Him and Alec holding a baby with a proud Rafael beside them. Another family Christmas with more young children, streaks of grey in Isabelle’s hair. A soft morning for just him and Alec, a cane nearby, Alec writing furiously on a tablet and Magnus reading.

The scenery around them changed. A sombre crowd in white inside the main hall in Alicante, Clary’s faded head bowed with sobs. Their bedroom with Alec, thin and asleep with Magnus reading aloud next to him, stealing glances at his husband. Magnus in the same position, staring bleakly at an empty, neatly-made bed, with his book fallen to the floor.

“No,” he whispered, clutching at Madzie’s hand, squeezing his eyes shut so hard it hurt. “I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to know.”

“You have to face this, Magnus. You have to know why the Angels gave you this gift.” Madzie’s voice was firm but full of sympathy. She motioned again and the scenes continued.

He saw himself surrounded by his family, Raf older now while Max looked young still, faces drawn and sad. Then a new apartment, somewhere sunnier than Alicante, Madzie and Max and Rafe hanging pictures. A dinner with young people whose faces contained echoes of Magnus’ present. Another white funeral, Max propping up a grieving Magnus. Raf, Magnus guessed, his stomach churning. Then another new place, smaller, darker. Magnus in a bar, at first alone, then with Catarina, then with strangers. Never the same face twice. Max and Madzie again, arguing with Magnus in what looked like a study. Madzie again, alone this time. Then Catarina again. Then Magnus alone, staring out the window, his back to them as they watched. Fire messages came and there were sharp raps on the door, but he remained alone.

The image didn’t change and he tore himself away from the pathetic view in front of him and turned back to Madzie.

“What are you telling me, Sweet Pea? That losing people hurts? I know that one. That’s not a good reason to irrevocably change someone's life.” He tried to sound dismissive but his hands trembled by his side and he clasped them together before Madzie could see.

“We all know that, Magnus.” She fixed him with her gaze. “The Downworld and the Shadowhunters - we worked in harmony for a long long time. You and Alec were figureheads - the leaders, there to calm things down when tensions rose, there to fight for what was right and fair, not what was based on tradition. And with Alec gone… you locked yourself away from everyone. Even with darkness coming. You tried for a while. For Max. For us. But....” she trailed off and bit her lip.

“What, Sweetpea? You can tell me.”

“You became what you always feared - alone and untouched by anything. You simply faded.”

“No,” Magnus whispered, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t. I haven’t before.”

“You deserve so much happiness, Magnus. You deserve to be in the world. But it’s like you decided the world wasn’t worth it if Alec’s not with you. And our world needs you, Magnus.”

“That’s still not a reason to ask him to stay with me!” Magnus cried. “I want him to be with me because he wants to, not because without him I give up!”

“How are you going to know that if you don’t ask him?” Madzie shot back, folding her arms and looking unerringly like Catarina.

Magnus opened his mouth to answer her and realised he had nothing. He looked at her, shocked, his mouth hanging open.

“Well, damn,” he finally managed, completely taken aback at how well he’d been played. “I’m going to have to ask him, aren’t I? It’s the only thing I can do.”

Madzie broke into a huge smile, her eyes alight with happiness. “You’ve always told me to fight for the future that I wanted, Magnus. Finally you’re taking your own advice.”

Chapter 5: Christmas Day

Magnus woke up when the bed dipped, and opened his eyes to the wondrous sight of Alexander crawling into bed with him.

“Mmmmm, what time is it?”

“Nearly midday. You’re sleeping Christmas away.”

“Merry Christmas,” Magnus yawned sleepily and pulled Alec closer, burying his nose in his neck. “Brr, you’re all cold.”

“Yes, it’s December,” Alec replied dryly, and then started to laugh as Magnus began to tug off his clothes.

“That’s not going to help me warm up.”

“Oh no?” Magnus grinned, and kissed him thoroughly. “Challenge accepted.” He proceeded to demonstrate exactly how wrong Alec was about that, kissing every patch of cold skin revealed until Alec’s fingers were twisting in his hair and begging Magnus in a broken voice. He drew him into his mouth, only stopping when Alec was a spent sweaty mess, panting against the sheets.

Magnus flopped back onto the bed and stretched lazily, looking smug.

“Yeah, okay,” Alec said in a dazed voice. “Merry Christmas.” Magnus laughed and curled around him, watching with fondness as Alec’s eyelids drooped until he was sure Alec was asleep.

Then he got up and made breakfast. Well, summoned brunch. There was a lightness to him now, his decision made. He could only remember parts of his dream, the love of his friends filling him with a buoyant warmth, the sheer delight at the possibility of having a future together. A long future.

He could recall enough to know that he had to ask Alec. Ask him if he’d stay with him. It was Alec’s choice, and while everything inside Magnus twisted at the thought Alec would say no, somehow he knew that Alec wouldn’t.

It was a feeling that made him merrier than usual over brunch once Alec woke up again, pulling him into the living room and dancing with him to old Rat Pack Christmas Songs as Alec laughed and stumbled over his own feet.

“I missed you,” Magnus told him and Alec rolled his eyes but smiled.

“I was gone for a night.”

“Still missed you.”

And then there were presents and a perfect Cavalli jacket Magnus assumed Izzy had picked out, even if Alec assured him he had seen it first and she’d only approved, and a little later Magnus conjured a traditional Christmas feast for the both of them and got Alec quite tipsy on a delightful Cabernet.

In the dwindling light, as the glow of Alicante grew outside their window, Magnus summoned a fire and a large, fluffy sheepskin run big enough for the two of them in front of it and beckoned Alec closer, his nerves growing.

Alec went willingly and wrapped his arms loosely around Magnus’ waist, pressing a kiss to his lips and then leaning back for what Magnus presumed was a longer kiss, but Magnus stopped him. Alec looked confused and drew back.

“Magnus? What is it?”

Magnus cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "So I have one final gift. But I don't want you to think it's just for you. This is the most selfish gift I can give.”

Alec raised an eyebrow and threw a pointed - and unimpressed, which Magnus would take a moment to be unhappy about later - glance at Magnus’ crotch. He swatted him on the arm.

“Hush, this is serious.“

“The king-size fur rug suggests otherwise, Magnus.”

“Will you please let me talk?” Magnus huffed at Alec and felt better when he’d settled down and schooled his face into a least a facade of listening, taking Magnus’ hand in his own.

“Yesterday I saw an Angel,” Magnus started and then winced when Alec narrowed his eyes at him. He held up two fingers in front of Alec’s mouth. “No, I don’t mean - that’s not a weird pick up line or that I saw someone beautiful, I mean. Literally. The Archangel Michael was over Lake Lyn.”

Alec’s eyes widened and he grabbed Magnus by the shoulders, looking panicked. “Are you ok? What did he want? What’s coming? Do I need to get Jia?”

“No, no…” Magnus sighed. He was doing this all wrong. “Nothing’s wrong. He gave me a gift - a reward. For my closing the rift from Edom.”

Alec’s eyebrows drew together. “But that was ages ago.”

“I know. I’m very aware that this gift most likely benefits them in some way as well. But. I can’t ignore it.”

“What the hell is this gift, Magnus?” He was getting impatient; Magnus could tell by the ticking muscle in his jaw and he instinctively cupped Alec’s face to soothe him. His stomach flipped over and he forced himself to state it plainly.

“He gave me… he gave me a chance to make you immortal. To live forever. With me. If you’d want that.”

Alec inhaled swiftly, looking blindsided, while Magnus searched his face for some indication of emotion other than shock.

“What?” Alec asked faintly, his hand rising to grip Magnus’ wrist. “Wait, say that again.”

“Michael gave me a way that I can bind my life with yours. It would make you immortal. But we have to perform the ritual by midnight tonight.”

Alec remained silent, his eyes flickering over Magnus’ face as if he was expecting Magnus to start laughing and tell him he was just kidding. Magnus’ heart sank.

“Alexander?” Magnus prompted. “Please say something.”

“Is that… no, wait, why would they do that? What do they want in return?”

Magnus frowned. That certainly wasn’t what Alec was originally going to ask. “I don’t know, but it’s safe to assume they’ll have a use for you or us in the future.” He thought about mentioning his dream again, but that on top of an angelic visitation was probably pushing it. And the way Alec was reacting… suddenly he was seized by the conviction that Alec would say no, that he’d rather be normal and mortal than be with Magnus and be seen as something different.

“Does that matter? I know you probably need time to think about it, or speak to your family. Or the Clave, they would probably have something to say about it. I can give you space if you need it -”

“Do you want this?” Alec asked abruptly and then winced, running his hand over his face. “I mean,” he continued in a softer voice, “is this what you want? I can understand if you don’t want an eternity with one person. Or - that’s probably presumptuous, right? That you would want to be with me forever even if I was immortal.”

Magnus all but melted, smoothing his arm around Alec’s neck and pressing close.

“Oh, Alexander. I meant it when I said this gift is a selfish one. I want you by my side for the rest of my life, not just the rest of your mortal one. You’re everything to me.”

“Are you sure? You can’t take it back.”

“Alexander.” Magnus was very firm as he looked up at Alec’s face, holding his worried look. “I can honestly say there is nothing I want more in this life than to have you in it for as long as I possibly can. I vowed to love you as long as I lived and I don’t think I can ever break that vow. It’s just not possible.”

“Magnus,” Alec said, his mouth working but nothing else followed, his gaze flickering over Magnus’ face as if he was a puzzle to be solved.

“Live with me,” Magnus said in a low voice, just above a whisper, his hand tightening on Alec’s neck. He willed him to see how much Magnus wanted this, willed him to find it in his eyes. “ Live with me, Alexander. Please.”

“Yes,” Alec finally said, his voice like gravel. “God, Magnus, yes. Yes. Always. I mean it. You have no idea…” he trailed off and to Magnus’ horror, shaded his eyes and let out a shaky sob, rubbing his hand over his face to wipe away tears. He groped around blindly to find the arm of the couch and then slid onto it gratefully, burying his face in his hands. Magnus followed him, nervously twisting his rings around his fingers. Saying yes but then crying wasn’t the exact response he’d anticipated.

“Fuck,” Alec said shakily after a moment, taking in a deep breath. “Magnus, you have no idea how much I want this, do you?” He finally looked back up at Magnus, his eyes wet and bright, but - oh, but his smile was wide and breathtaking. Something inside Magnus loosened and relaxed as Alec spread his arms open, inviting Magnus over. He promptly sprawled himself on Alec’s lap, causing him to laugh, and wound his arms around Alec’s neck, his nails scratching at the soft skin at the nape of his neck.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “You’ve never told me. It always was an impossible dream, Alexander, one I still can’t quite believe has been simply given to us.” He bit his lip when Alec hugged him closer and buried his face into Magnus’ shoulder, his fingers stroking through his hair.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to try to talk me out of it with tales of what a burden immortality can be and how it changes your views on everything?” Alec responded, slightly muffled by Magnus’ cashmere.

Magnus suppressed a small grin and looked at the fire, feeling a certain sense of deja vu from his dream. “Well. Yes. Not talk you out of it, but definitely warn you. You have to know what you’re getting yourself into. Watching most people you love die. Having to continue on. Then there’s putting up with the rest of the immortals - you’ll be sick of us. Sick of me.”

“Never,” Alec said immediately, pulling himself back up. “Magnus, look at me.” Magnus reluctantly pulled his gaze from the flames back to Alec.

“Magnus, I could never get sick of you. Frustrated, yes. Annoyed, sure. Sometimes I still don’t understand you. You’ve lived for centuries and I barely know you and at the same time, know you better than anyone that doesn’t share my soul.” Alec cradled Magnus’ face in his hands and brushed his thumb against his cheekbone, wiping away the tear Magnus hadn’t been aware of.

“I want to stay with you. I want to experience everything with you - yes, even the pain of loss, because we’ll at least be together for it. You make the dark days a little brighter, enough to get me through, and you make the ordinary days completely dazzling.”

Alec wasn’t helping to prevent Magnus from crying more, the reality of the gift finally crystalizing into something definitive in his mind.

“Really?” he asked again.

“Now and for all time,” Alec said solemnly, quoting the traditional Warlock wedding vows. Magnus made a small choked noise and buried his face in Alec’s neck, squeezing him tight. The impossible man who always continued to surprise him.

“I love you,” he whispered into Alec’s skin, and could feel Alec’s smile.

“I love you too.” Alec kissed his forehead and then the side of his face, tracking down until he reached his lips, sharing the sweetest kiss with Magnus that he felt down to his toes.

“And we need to do this now, right?” Alec continued in a business-like tone when he pulled away. “Because I believe you and I have plans for that rug that might take longer than midnight.”

Magnus laughed and brushed at his eyes to wipe away his tears, clambering off Alec as he snapped his fingers for his bag. “We have instructions.” Alec made a pleased sound and started digging through the pouch, pulling out the necessary elements for the ritual.

Magnus caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and wheeled around, ready for anything, for Angels to try to retrieve the gift, anything at all - and only coming face to face with his reflection in the living room mirror.

But he wasn’t alone. Behind him were Ragnor and Dot and even Madzie, all smiling at him - or at least in Ragnor’s case, not scowling. Madzie gave him a thumbs up and Magnus laughed, looking over his shoulder at nothing, and then back at his friends in the reflection of the room.

When Magnus laughed, Alec looked up from arranging things on the coffee table.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Magnus said, turning back and smiling at Alexander, his soul soaring as he looked at the best decision he’d ever made, ready to start their eternal life together as soon as possible.

“I was just thinking we need a toast.” He summoned two glasses of champagne and handed one to Alec, clinking their glasses together and then reaching out for Alec’s hand, his heart brimming over with joy.

“Merry Christmas to all.” His gaze flicked back to his friends in the mirror’s reflection. “And to all, a good night.”

#cardiamachina #malecsanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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an-account-in-time · 6 years ago

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#38 - Avengers as gen z/teens

Peter- run’s an avengers misquotes account with things they actually said, fast learner, will teach them self an obscure skill late at night and not tell anyone, results in fun surprises at random times, constantly needs a hug, wants to be tony

Loki- shows love in strange ways, extra, loves tea, reads Shakespeare, quotes fancy sounding memes, really good writer on the sly, runs a blog about all the dumb shit he sees, theater kid, dramatic gay

Thor- great with kids and dogs, looks like he could kill you, choose to hug you, always happy, constantly defends Loki, can’t keep a secret, doesn’t understand memes, protects the lesbians

Nat- all the secrets, hold food without looking up from laptop, always on phone, uninterested, cool than you, works out with period cramps, will survive the Apocalypse, really good at video games, stolen sweaters and starbucks, doesn’t give a single shit, would buy tony a leash for Christmas, good with kids, will steal all your food

Tony- extra, sarcastic 24/7, exclusively listens to 80s rock, never sleeps, a n x i e t y, makes spicy memes, probably definitely needs a therapist, gives away money for no reason, just wants to be loved, hates school

Steve- the MOST petty bitch, runs a defense blog about Bucky, goes to all the marches all the times, hates trump with the power of a thousand suns, self righteous, posts on twitter all the time, stuck up reputation, never followed a rule in his damn life, will randomly show up at your house, too old for this, art hoe

Bucky- poplar anonymous shitpost blog, secretly soft, everyone thinks he hates everyone, eyeliner disaster, greasy hair aesthetic, gen z humor queen, loves plums, is the bane of Sam’s existence, is always confused, needs a nap

Sam- sticks magnets to Bucky’s arm, reluctant mum friend, his house is the place, great at making jokes, life of the party, lil shit, spams Steve with memes, will play Frisbee with the shield, hates children

Feel free to add more

#Avengers #Avengers assemble #avengers4 #Avengers infinity war #Headcanon #marvel headcanons #gen z #text post

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logancreatesworlds · 8 years ago

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Like a Mars Bar (J’onn J’onzz x Black!Reader)

(Another JJ x reader story, but this time - she’s a dark-skinned beauty! Hope you all like it!)

Damn, working with aliens and superheroes at the DEO was much more difficult than you had originally thought! Your friend Kara had turned out to be Supergirl (which didn’t surprise you but rather explained why you both looked freakishly alike), you had to get used to your younger brother James being around crime and helping to fight it and most importantly - your boss and crush, the badass Hank Henshaw was actually a damn alien named J’onn J’onzz. You were lucky enough to woo your way into his good graces, and even luckier to see what he truly looked like.

He actually was kinda cute in a sort of ethereal, science-y way: tall, muscled, green and he had a unique set of red eyes which you just adored. He wasn’t half-bad. His personality was pretty nice too. When he wasn’t masquerading as Hank Henshaw and giving order to DEO subordinates, you two were spending more and more time together. He told you simple things at first: His favorite color, “red - like the Martian sands”, his favorite food, “Oreos - the original ones, not the copies” and even his favorite kinds of movies, “I like sci-fy for some reason. The human attempt made to understand the deep recesses of science in order to mix it with fiction is fascinating to say the least.” But you two never made the motion needed to take your flourishing relationship to the next level. However, that soon changed.

It was on a hard day that everything became different for you and J’onn. You were a DEO agent, so you and a few others had been called to wait in a clearing and to meet up with Supergirl later. Kara had landed in the clearing along with him. He was in his true form, and he was carrying Alex, but he looked pissed for some reason. “Okay, I know he got away but we can still catch him if we follow my plan,” you heard Kara say. Ouch, baddies getting away? J’onn hates that. You watched J’onn quietly as he silently listened to Supergirl. His mouth was in a hard line. Oh yeah, he was pissed. But damn, he was sexy when he was pissed. Mm, look at this Martian with his sexy ass...lookin’ like a big, green delicious Mars bar. I’d like to see how he tastes.” You quickly looked in another direction when he spared a glance at yours. When you finally mustered up the courage to look at him, you saw this his attention was once again back on Supergirl like nothing had happened. You breathed a mental sigh of relief of that at least. Good thing he wasn’t a mind-reader.

Later, he, Kara and Alex had caught whichever bad guy who had been dumb enough to plague the city. Still, everything didn’t feel so resolved for you. The man who you were interested in still didn’t know that you were...well, interested. It was poetically cruel that was you wanted was so close, but felt so far, as if blocked by a hard, iron wall. It sucked even more, for the wall keeping you from your man was no wall at all, but rather - your own fear of being rejected. Of course, not many could blame you if they knew the truth. You had had a crush on a this cute white boy back in eleventh grade - Austin was his name. Handsome, blonde hair, blue eyes, Senior - he was everything a girl could want and did want at the school, and he knew it. However, unlike the other girls, you were actually dumb enough to confront him about how you felt. All the romantic movies and magazines that you had went though came back to bite you in the ass when Austin and everyone at lunch laughed you out of the cafeteria. You went home crying that day. Jamie, the ever-loving younger brother had offered to kick his ass, as he was pretty big for a freshman, but you declined. Even after all that he put you through, you still liked Austin and couldn’t bear to see him hurt. And due to your love, you let him and his friends torment you until graduation. You still have regrets about skipping prom because of him. So yeah - you had a fear of rejection. God, if only you could break it-

“Miss (Y/LN), please come into my office.” You were shaken out of your reverie to see the subject of your romantic stress a few feet away. “Y-yes...of course Mr. Henshaw.” You got up and swiftly followed J’onn to his office. Breathe bitch, stay calm. Breathe, stay calm. You kept your eyes down and clenched your shaking hands together. Keep your eyes down. Once you were inside, you stilled in front of his desk, though you didn’t sty from taking a spare glance at the office. No windows. Well, Martians must like privacy. “Thank you for coming, (Y/N).” “Such is the nature of my job J’onn. I had no choice.” “As long as I am near, you always have a choice.” You smiled and J’onn gave you a small grin of his own, “thank you.” “You are welcome, but that is not what I called you here to discuss,” J’onn said, his face once again turning serious. “Well...what did you want to talk about?” “Earlier today,” J’onn spoke, “at the clearing. You were radiating some thoughts that were of interest to me.” You eyes widened, “You...can read minds?” J’onn’s serene red eyes blinked and he answered, “Yes (Y/N)...since my powers came in when I was a little boy.” Your eyes teared up and you looked to the ground, no longer able to meet his eyes, “J’onn, I am so sorry. I promise I’ll quit if you-” Before you could continue, a long green finger hushed your lips, and then the hand that they belonged to gently lifted your face back up to its owner. J’onn, in all his Martian glory, stood there. “(Y/N),” he spoke, his voice now more ethereal than ever, “I am not angry or upset. I am rather overjoyed actually.”

...Well damn. “R-Really?” J’onn smiled, “Yes. These past few months, you have grown closer to me. Still, you seem to forget that I have the utmost pleasure of growing close to you. I feel an attraction to you for which I have never felt for another woman in a very long time. Every single time that you walk into the doors of this building, you capture me and my attention, and my am I glad to be your slave.” Your brown skin was probably bright red by the time he had finished, but alas, the Martian was not done with his tirade. J’onn slowly turned around and looked around his office, as if admiring it for the hundreth time. “I love the way you walk, and how your beautiful legs carry you in a glorious physical symphony. I adore how you talk and laugh, your voice like ringing silver bells on - what is it called? Ah yes, Christmas eve.” You briefly chuckled at his adorable misstep, and J’onn smiled. “I revere how you act, so perfect yet so humble. Every woman on this earth should envy your flawless grace. In short dear (Y/N), I want you. I want us.” “Why would you want me?” You asked. It was a fair question. Why would he want you? “Your perfection is not reason enough?” “What perfection J’onn?!” J’onn’s confused frown turned into a look of understanding. He knew the problem, but he allowed you to speak.

“I’m hideous, J’onn! Look at me! I’m dark, my hair is messy, my eyes are too big, my nose is too big, my stomach is too fat-” “Enough.” You eyes widened at how angry he sounded, and he looked just as pissed. “You are to never say those words again, do you understand me?” You nodded. “By the gods (Y/N), is that what you truly think of yourself? Because if so, you are sadly disillusioned.” You remained silent as J’onn walked closer to you. “You are the most beautiful woman not only on this planet, but in all the solar systems, galaxies and universes combined. You eyes are so deep that I could almost swim in them if physical boundaries prevented did not prevent me. You skin is so brown and beautiful that the sun itself smiles because it is lucky enough to be absorbed by your beautiful melanin. Your hair? So black and wild, it as if all the depths of the deep, dark space we live in have taken shape upon your perfect head. If you need any pep talks for your body, then you more than welcome to come to my apartment tonight. I will personally show you how much your stunning form deserves to be worshiped.” Your mouth dropped at what J’onn has just said. You could feel your eyes tearing up. J’onn frowned, “Did I offend you?” “No uh...just the opposite,” you responded, wiping your tears with a sniffle, “So...where do we go from here?” J’onn stepped as close as he could, it was closer than we had ever been.

“Let’s start here,” he said. J’onn gently grabbed your face in his large green hands and smashed his lips to yours. The moment your lips touched, it felt like someone had taken a thousand fireworks and smushed them to your lips. It was perfect. Soon, the kiss grew deeper and before you knew it - you and the man of your dreams were exchanging tongue. The kiss grew hotter, heated. J’onn broke from your lips with a happy breath and then pushed you into a soft lounge chair. Still, you didn’t care much if you were in a chair or in a bed, as the man you had held in very high esteem was unbuttoning your shirt. In a couple seconds, he had slipped it off of you and tossed it behind him. You didn’t care though as J’onn leaned over you and proceeded to kiss you some more.

Still, you couldn’t catch a break. Someone opened the door. “Hey J’onn Alex and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got another case-” Kara gasped as J’onn swiftly got off of you, while you covered your black lace bra and hid it from her view. Kara, being the sweetheart that she was, had the decency to look away and shut here eyes. “Whoa, sorry to interrupt you two. Uh J’onn...Alex and I need you. There’s another case.” Dammit, you thought. “No matter, my love. We shall definitely finish this later.” “Wait. You can-” “Telepathy, darling...I shall explain later.” J’onn cleared his throat, turning back into Hank Henshaw, “Of course, Kara. I will be down in a moment.” Kara, still with closed eyes, gave an awkward thumbs up and closed the door. You and J’onn sighed in unison. “Dammit,” you huffed. J’onn smiled and leaned down, planting a kiss on your lips, “I promise, we will finish later. Let me go take care of this, and we can meet at my place later. Take a short break, and be down to join us when you’re ready. I will let you know if anything changes.” You nodded and J’onn planted one last kiss on you before walking out of the door. You sighed in both joy and impatience. Oh well, you thought, At least I got my Mars Bar.

(A/N: I know, I know - not the best, but I tried dammit! XD Seriously though, please comment or message me so I know how you guys like my work. If you do, it’ll motivate me to write more! Thanks for the support! And feel free to send me requests n’ stuff!)

#j'onn j'onzz x reader #martian manhunter #supergirl #cw #dc x reader #romance #martian #aww #i did my best #don't judge me #I tried dammit!#really tho #dc #dc comics

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boardwalk-absurdist · 6 years ago

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All the numbers! 😊

Aaahhh thank you~ I haven’t done one of these in forever but I love them, so let’s go (under the cut)!

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs~ I have one standard reliable water bottle that I carry with me, but I love me a clever/cute coffee mug.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Chocolate bars, natch.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy~

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? Usually stuff like energetic, bubbly, and smart. They used to say gifted but around 4th grade they weren’t allowed to say that anymore.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? None of the above, I don’t drink soda. The bubbles hurt my tongue.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? Oh man this is an eternal struggle tbh. I think I usually dress a bit more grunge or boho, but I want to be pastel and goth as well? The others I could take or leave.

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuds, as long as they aren’t those Skullcandy kind with the squishy part that you jam in your ear canal. I hate those.

8. movies or tv shows? Depends on my mood and how much time I have.

9. favorite smell in the summer? This may be weird, but like…sun sweat? You know when you’re laying out comfortably in the sunshine and there’s a nice breeze and you sweat a lil but it’s like just warm? Also the ocean, I love the beach but I live nowhere near one.

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Uh, avoid competitive people as much as possible by running in the opposite direction from the ball? Walk laps rather than play the game? I did not like gym class.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Nothin’. Sometimes I’ll have a donut or poptarts or pain au chocolat but usually it’s a lotta nothing.

12. name of your favorite playlist? “Players musicals”, a spotify playlist with songs from the 4 musicals my college theatre group did while I was there. Or on my iTunes, I have one called “Power Up” that is all my pump-up jams.

13. lanyard or key ring? …both? I have a keyring on my lanyard.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? Ooh, the Haribo gummy frogs. With like the white part on the bottom? Idk what that shit is but I love it.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. I know it’s a play but we did read it, and I loved it. Alternatively, maybe Brave New World? I found that one fascinating.

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Curled up sideways in an armchair or with my legs thrown over one arm and my back against the other.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? In the summer, I always pick one pair of sandals with a fun pattern so I get cool tan lines on my feet. Otherwise, Merrell Mocs 5evr.

18. ideal weather? Sunny and dry, maybe with a light breeze, and in the mid- to high-70s. Either that or clear, sunny, and between 15 and -15 for like a perfectly brisk day.

19. sleeping position? I usually sleep on my side with my top leg flung out so I’m like half on my stomach. But I can’t actually sleep on my stomach cuz I have titties and they are Not Comfortable.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Literally anywhere and on anything. I doodle and write on p much any surface I am given.

21. obsession from childhood? …uh. There were several. But I guess Jerry Lewis was the biggie/most embarrassing.

22. role model? That’s a tough one. Probably Bonnie Bassler.

23. strange habits? I eat most foods around the outside and save the center for last. Like poptarts, waffles, sandwiches… I also have a tic where whenever I have my car in neutral I jiggle the stick shift back and forth to like prove to myself that I am in neutral. I’m sure there are more that I’m unaware of that I just think are normal, so hey, if you know me irl and you know of a weird habit that I missed, send it my way.

24. favorite crystal? Idk. Does tiger’s eye count? It’s my favorite semi-precious stone.

25. first song you remember hearing? LORDT I have no idea, probably a Bruce Springsteen song.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? Lay in the sunshine. Or swim outside.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? Play in the snow.

28. five songs to describe you? These are more songs describing what it feels like to be me, but: “Fear and Loathing” and “Teen Idle” by Marina and the Diamonds, “I Wanna Get Better” by Bleachers, “Yo Girl” from Heathers, aaaand “Carmen” by Lana Del Rey.

29. best way to bond with you? Work on a show together.

30. places that you find sacred? Difficult to say. I guess anywhere that feels like a liminal space.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Ooh okay so I have this black cropped sleeveless hoodie that says “never trust the living” on a tombstone and has a skull, I like to pair that with some burgundy high-waisted short shorts and tights with embroidered skulls and butterflies. Then those go with my platform black and white sneakers or my 6 inch platform boots with flames on the heels.

32. top five favorite vines? rOaD wOrK aHeAd?; I AM THE SAND GUARDIAN; …wow; “little diddy”; and either happy crismus or WELCOME TO BIBLE STUDY

33. most used phrase in your phone? Probably “fair enough”

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? “if you needed brain surgery, would you go to a general practitioner? No? THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL BUYING FISH FROM THE GENERAL STORE” fishtopia may finally be dead but that fucking commercial lives on

35. average time you fall asleep? Like midnight?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? I can has cheezburger?

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Depends. If it’s just for a few days, duffel bag. But I prefer to travel with a suitcase for anything longer than a week.

38. lemonade or tea? Lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Uh I guess lemon cake?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Oh! One time this girl tackled this dude allegedly cuz he wouldn’t share his beef jerky. The school was put on a code yellow while the security guard separated them.

41. last person you texted? Myself, to send some gel pictures from my phone to my laptop.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets. I have shitty girl pants pockets.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? why must you hurt me in this way. I have a denim jacket that I adore, so I guess that one? But I really appreciate the aesthetic of bomber jackets.

44. favorite scent for soap? Irish Spring. am cermet

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? I guess sci-fi.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? I sleep in my underwear.

47. favorite type of cheese? Cheddar or Gruyere.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? No clue. Strawberry, maybe?

49. what saying or quote do you live by? “Once you’re in it, it’s okay.” - This is How, Augusten Burroughs Alternatively, “How unlikely! Yet here we are.” - Spaceman of Bohemia, Jaroslav Kalfar

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? An inside joke with the Brit, I think.

51. current stresses? oh the thousands

52. favorite font? Currently I’m really feeling Book Antiqua.

53. what is the current state of your hands? Uh, fine? Clean? My nails are Ready for some new polish.

54. what did you learn from your first job? How to scoop ice cream.

55. favorite fairy tale? I don’t think I have one.

56. favorite tradition? So in my family, we have a routine for putting up the tree (we have a fake tree that we use every year). My dad puts the tree together, my mom rearranges and bends the branches to make it look more realistic, my dad puts the lights on, and then my little brother and I decorate it with all the ornaments. It’s a lot of fun and my favorite part of Christmas.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? An abusive relationship, getting help for depression/anxiety, and my mom’s attempted suicide.

58. four talents you’re proud of having? I’m a p good writer, a decent swimmer, I can do cross-stitch/needlepoint, and I am very good at taking tests/learning.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? “Eat an entire ass.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Slice of life goofy high school comedy. Like Ouran, or the lighter parts of Fruits Basket.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? There’s a line in @scifigrl47‘s fic “Hollow Your Bones like a Bird’s” that has really stuck with me over the years: “It is the farthest from death that I can get, to decide, second by second, not to jump.” In a similar vein, the line “I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spat it out” from the original Avengers movie really made an impression. On a funnier note, the lines “I’ve frequently not been on boats” and “One can hardly eat cucumber sandwiches in an agitated manner” from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and The Importance of Being Earnest respectively never fail to make me laugh.

62. seven characters you relate to? Lordt that is so many. Okay. Alissa Meson from the Truth series, Chidi Anagonye from The Good Place, Lee Fiora from Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld, Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket, Shiloh Wallace from Repo! The Genetic Opera, Augusten Burroughs in his memoirs (not technically a character but I relate so hard), and Bo Burnham’s stage persona (it COUNTS dammit).

63. five songs that would play in your club? “1, 2, Step” - Ciara, “Night Fever” - The BeeGees, “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)” - Journey, “Chelsea Dagger” - The Fratellis, and “Damn You Look Good And I’m Drunk (Scandalous)” - Cobra Starship

64. favorite website from your childhood? Quizilla, RIP

65. any permanent scars? Several on my hands (they used to be cat scratches but I picked at them so much they scarred up), two punctures from my cat biting me on my right inner forearm, and one biggun on my left asscheek from when I fell out of a tree and had to get 6 stitches.

66. favorite flower(s)? Poppies, lavender, fireweed, and forget-me-nots.

67. good luck charms? Not really? I have jewelry that I wear every day but that’s more a habit/ritual rather than for luck.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? LORDT okay so I worked at an ice cream shop two summers in a row, right? There was this DISGUSTING cranberry stout flavor, and a p gross ginger one, plus every time someone ordered a weird milkshake we’d make a little extra so we could try some. One time someone got like a large stout (the regular, not the cranberry, which was still nasty) and pumpkin milkshake with malt. It was horrid.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes as much pressure to bite through a human finger as it does to bite through a carrot.

70. left or right handed? Rightie.

71. least favorite pattern? Uh. I guess paisley? It doesn’t really do anything for me.

72. worst subject? Organic chemistry or physics.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? Oooh so nutella and honey is DELIGHTFUL if you’ve never tried it. Also those parmesan bread bites from Dominos taste real good dunked in the icing that comes with the cinnamon twists.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? Like a 4 or 5.

75. when did you lose your first tooth? I genuinely do not recall.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Scalloped potatoes with cheese.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? Idk I kill all my plants. I have a lil sempervivum that I’ve kept alive for a few months though~

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Grocery store sushi.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Lmao they both are bad but I’ll say driver’s license.

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Are they not the same thing? I call them fireflies.

82. pc or console? PC. I grew up without a console so I lack the intuitive understanding of their control mechanisms that most people seem to have.

83. writing or drawing? Writing.

84. podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts.

84. barbie or polly pocket? Barbie I guess?

85. fairy tales or mythology? Mythology.

86. cookies or cupcakes? …cookies.

87. your greatest fear? Disappointing people who took a chance on me.

88. your greatest wish? If I tell you, it won’t come true.

89. who would you put before everyone else? My little brother.

90. luckiest mistake? Not applying for summer internships. Instead I just talked to the one microbiology professor and she offered me a summer job in her lab and it’s because of her that I’m at the school I’m at for grad school and have experience and all that.

91. boxes or bags? Uh. Bags I guess? Easier to carry.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight.

93. nicknames? My parents call me Squirrelle. Some people call me T (my real name starts with a T).

94. favorite season? Spring, I think. It’s so nice to come back out of the cold.

95. favorite app on your phone? I guess fb messenger, I use it the most.

96. desktop background? It’s a colored collage of Jareth and Sarah from pika-la-cynique’s “Girls Next Door” massive crossover series on dA.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? I dunno, like a handful? Some are totally useless.

98. favorite historical era? Probably the 80s.

#Anonymous #carmen answers #meet the blogger #thank you!#these are so fun

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