#mlmshadowhuntersource

[oikyskau]

a perfect match

[bussanbaby]

The Institute has never been a home for Alec.

He’s been born into it, the cold cathedral walls of order and humility, the black and white reality. His childhood has been a soldier’s stance, his mother’s sharp tongue and discipline still ingrained into him to this very day. Between the blue-tinted corridors and occasional trips to Idris, his whole life has played out without his input, because the eldest child wears the heavy crown of responsibility.

His life has been endless hours of studies and twice as much time spent training, until breathing burned his lungs and his knuckles turned into a kaleidoscope of bruises beneath the shattered light in the colors of the stained glass windows. His childhood was never truly his own, instead it belonged to his parents, stern-faced and cutting cold, because ‘mistake’ was not a word he was allowed to speak.

At first it stung, but with years passing, the ache was duller, something Alec learned to ignore in favor of trying to be the leader, doing the impossible, being good enough. His brother and sister listened alongside him how their lives were never worth as much as the cause, since the ends always justify the means, don’t they?

The Institute has never been a home, it’s been a base of operations and a fleeting place of stay, a temporary stage between birth and death; the Nephilim know their fate is a short life in the glory of misplaced priorities.They follow a path carved by the ones before them, even if it feels wrong, because to stand against the only thing you know is to be brave, stupid, or both. So Alec keeps his mouth shut, his emotions locked deep inside and his true self tucked away.

Each day used to start in a bedroom without windows, filled with dark and militant colours, then a breakfast eaten in silence, before they were briefed and sent out into the world. Alec has always enjoyed New York, the bustle of it drowning out all those nagging thoughts like dark clouds over a blue sky. The crowds allowed Alec to lose himself, become anonymous and free from all of the obligations weighing down his shoulders; the sound of the Institute doors closing behind him always made it easier to breathe.

So, when Alec is finally off duty, he immediately heads for the exit. His steps become more spry, and the stressed scowl semi-present on his face turns into a pleased half-smile at the very thought of what’s ahead. People say their goodbyes as he passes them, answering with nods, but his mind is already elsewhere.

Even though it’s only around five in the evening, the sun is low in the sky. The last rays of peach and amber sun are ricocheting against the New York skyscrapers, accompanied by the long strings of colorful fairy lights hung up in the leafless trees lining the sidewalks. The pathways are clear of snow, dark concrete dusted with sand and it’s as crowded as it gets. People are already making preparations for the upcoming holidays, taking advantage of all the kitschy and loud advertisements, their hands full of stuffed bags and faces lit up in excitement.

The winter chill bites at Alec’s gloved fingers as he swiftly makes his way through the throng of bodies, pulling the dark suede coat tighter around himself. While December weather is a pretty and nostalgic setting, Alec doesn’t appreciate the temperature dropping, his nose constantly red at the tip and his hands numb no matter how many layers he has on. Keeping that in mind, Alec runs his errands quickly, stepping in and out of a few mundane shops, runes and weapons glamoured.

At the end, he’s got a couple of plastic bags hanging around his wrist and tapping against the side of his thigh as he makes his way to Magnus’ loft. It’s a bit of a trek to the nearest subway station, so by the time he rounds the entrance and bounces down the steps, he can’t feel his toes anymore. On the upside, the subway car he picks is relatively far from packed and kind of clean. Foregoing the invisibility glamour, he tucks himself near one of the doors, a perfect vantage point for people-watching.

Usually, Alec would tip his head back and close his eyes, burying himself in his own thoughts and imagination, but now, he observes. To his right, a mother is rocking her sleeping daughter, the small girl curled up in her lap with a teddy bear. The woman lifts her head from where she has her mouth pressed against a freckled forehead, meets Alec’s gaze before smiling at him; he smiles back.

Alec’s never had that kind of warmth in his early life - his familial relationships were all quite distanced aside from his siblings and he’ll never forget the way they hugged him in a reassuring gesture of camaraderie. But it’s never been that heart-melting sweetness of love outside of blood-bonds, that feeling of belonging in someone’s arms and knowing their heart is your own.

Then, Magnus came along, took Alec’s hand and tugged him down a less-walked path to Eden on Earth. At first, it was all tentative and new, but slowly they learned to speak the same language and bend in compromise when needed. They shared secrets, bared their flaws and made memories clearer than any photograph. What they have has gone from a dance among eggshells to something sure and inextricable.

Home is a safe haven, a place to hide from storms, a bay to return to each evening with a smile on your face. Alec thinks of it as a place where he can be vulnerable and soul-bare, let down his guards and rest his head in his lover’s lap; where he’s allowed to just be.

The subway slows around a bend, jostling everyone inside the car and Alec watches dim lights flee past dirtied windows. An old couple sits beneath one of them, their hands wrinkled and colored with time, but still holding onto each other tight. Next to them sit two teenage boys sharing a pair of headphones, their eyes closed and heads tilted towards each other.

Home is a place where love is unapologetic and unconditional, where there’s no shame in heritage and past, where promises are kept and time doesn’t matter, because there’s never enough of it. Home is acceptance and respect, support in difficult decisions. It’s a forever hand-in-hand with the one Alec will hopefully marry one day.

He’s not sure what brings these thoughts out. Perhaps it’s the near-Christmas atmosphere, where the families shown on the TV gather around tables and sing carols in unison. Everyone sits and eats together, talking about happiness and love. Shadowhunters are traditionalists by nature, so normally they don’t celebrate Christmas, considering it as something mundane. Yet ever since the first time Alec has spent winter holidays with Magnus, they’ve taken to organising a small get-together for their friends and family, a pleasant relaxed dinner filled with laughter and delicious food made with care.

The speakers above Alec’s head announce the correct station and he blinks himself back into reality, following people outside the station. He stops for a moment, tilts his head towards the sky and lets his eyes dip closed as massive snowflakes float down from the navy and purple sky, little melting kisses landing on his cheeks and forehead, catching in his hair and eyelashes.

He’s tired and the world keeps turning too quickly, but it’s okay; for once, it’s okay.

The path to Magnus’ loft is ingrained in Alec’s brain by now, feet leading him on their own. The sweet smell of mulled wine from a vendor outside follows him into the elevator up to the last floor and to the penthouse doors.

Warmth welcomes Alec as soon as he crosses the threshold, enveloping his aching body in familiarity and a sense of calm. The lamps in the living room are off, but there’s a stripe of light coming from underneath the entrance to Magnus’ study, meaning he’s still working on something.

Alec tugs off his snow-covered boots and sets them neatly aside, adamant to not be one of the people traipsing all over the precious Persian rugs in dirty shoes. Then, off goes the thigh holster with the Seraph blade inside, set against a table in the hall. As Alec starts to unbutton his coat, he moves towards the office, the hum of New York a quiet ambiance in the background.

Everything feels still, yet lived-in at the same time. Subtle pieces of everyday life are scattered throughout the space - a fuzzy blanket neatly folded over the back of the blue armchair, a book left out on the coffee table, a bracelet abandoned on the arm of the couch.

Alec pushes the doors with the tips of his fingers, letting them slowly swing open to reveal Magnus sitting at his desk, bathed in the honeyed glow of the lights. He seems deep in thought, chin propped up on the back of his palm and a pen tapping rhythmically against the edge of an open book. The whole mahogany surface is taken up by aged volumes and sheets of paper filled with Magnus’ elegant handwriting. On the far edge of it, Alec can spot an empty whiskey glass, which is just more proof Magnus has been working for a while.

Alec doesn’t want to interrupt and break Magnus’ concentration, but before he can back away, Magnus lifts his head, tips it to either side in a stretch before he senses Alec’s presence, eyes catching on his form in the doorway and a slow smile blooming on his lips.

“Hello, handsome,” he says, putting down his pen with a sigh. His gaze slips from Alec’s face and down his body, stopping on the plastic bags still hanging from his wrist. “What do you have there?”

“I bring offerings for the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” Alec replies, stepping closer and setting the parcel in Magnus’ lap, who rifles through the contents. “I got chinese on the way home since you were craving some yesterday. Also some red velvet cupcakes, just because I could.”

When Magnus looks up at him with fondness and gratitude, Alec offers a lopsided smile. Sometimes it’s the simple things that count the most. He leans down for a hello kiss and Magnus cups his face with warm hands, thumbs running along his cheekbones. Alec’s smile widens into a pleased grin and he’s sure the redness in his cheeks isn’t only from the cold.

Magnus sets the bag aside and turns back to his previous task as Alec comes to stand behind him, hands absentmindedly kneading the tense muscles in Magnus’ wide shoulders.

“What are you working on?”

Magnus scratches at the side of his goatee, leaning back into Alec’s touch as he shuffles through the papers, organising them into neat stacks until only thing that’s left in the center is the book that looks like it’s going to fall apart at any moment, filled with erratic scribbles almost swimming before Alec’s eyes.

“I’m trying to crack the code on this ancient spell book. I feel like the answer is staring me in the face at this point,” Magnus’ voice sounds weary and worn, betraying the way he feels beneath the layer of affection. “I’m done with it for today, though, and dinner with you sounds amazing right now.”

Magnus stands up from the swivel chair and picks up the food still waiting for them, before heading towards the living room. “How was your day, Alexander?” He calls from the other room. Alec follows the voice, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the rack on his way there, along with a woollen scarf he was gifted by Magnus.

“Same old, same old, saving the world and stuff,” he answers nonchalantly, turning back to find Magnus staring at him with a raised brow as he’s setting out all of the containers on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Sent three packs of Ravener demons back to where they came from and somehow survived an hour long meeting with the Inquisitor herself,” Alec puts on a nonchalant tone, theatrically rolling his eyes as Magnus hums in sympathy. They both know how bad that experience is, especially considering Imogen Herondale’s stance on their relationship.

“All in a day’s work,” Magnus quips back as he summons a couple of beers, the brand recommended by Maia one time Alec swung by the Hunter’s Moon to pick up something for Luke.

“Well, the meeting would’ve gone smoother if someone didn’t send me silly selfies.”

Giddy and definitely guilty laughter bubbles up in Magnus’ chest as he tries to hide a smug smile behind his ringed fingers, shoulders shaking with mirth. He already looks a little less tired, his eyes crinkled in the corners and bright. Alec feels a surge of love crest like a wave inside his heart; this is something he will never tire of, laughter and freedom and tenderness.

His mind runs back to those pictures, the first one coming in just as Alec walked into the conference room. It was a simple picture of Magnus smiling and winking (and is currently Alec’s new phone background), but then it went downhill in the best of ways - each picture becoming more and more ridiculous. Alec had trouble keeping his stony expression on when Magnus was pulling random faces, somehow still adorable despite the triple-chin.

“I knew you’d appreciate my works of art. I had to keep myself sane as I was working,” Magnus says, the lilt of laughter still audible in the pleased tone of his voice and his shoulders falling into the motions of a flirtatious shimmy.

“The Inquisitor caught me smiling at my phone and she looked ready to leave this plane of existence.”

Magnus continues to laugh as he sits down on the couch, sinking into the array of pillows thrown all over it; Alec joins him, stretching his legs and throwing an arm around Magnus’ shoulders. He doesn’t even try to look chastising, because there’s no point to it - she may be Jace’s grandma, but she’s an awful person and if making fun of her is all they have right now, then Alec will take it.

With a snap of his fingers, Magnus opens the beers and hands Alec one, then kisses him, all warm mouth and solid body. It feels right to be there, with snow falling outside the windows and familiar fingers resting at his thigh.

“Miss Herondale can stick it,” Magnus announces and they clink the dew-covered bottles together.

They dig into the food and Magnus puts on Brooklyn 99 from where they left off, but Alec feels his attention drifting away from the witty banter and towards Magnus. He keeps tapping a slow rhythm against Alec’s leg, eyes blinking slowly and mouth quirked up at the corners. He’s beautiful and perfect and he’s everything Alec ever wanted from life.

The food and the drinks are long finished and somewhere between episodes, they lay down, both of them sleepy in the subtle bluish glow of the television screen. Alec finds himself squished between the couch and Magnus’ side, cheek pillowed on his chest and fingers tucked into the space between the buttons of Magnus’ shirt, settled against smooth skin. The steady rise and fall of Magnus’ torso is lulling Alec to sleep, the warlock already dozing off, his palm settled against Alec’s back and his whole body relaxed.

Outside, the snow continues to fall.

For some, home isn’t even a place. For Alec, it’s a pair of elegant hands, a kind soul and a heartbeat.

[oikyskau]

Malec + The Internet ∞/∞

[oikyskau]

Malec + The Internet 

[bussanbaby]

When Magnus wakes, the first thing he’s aware of is the annoying ringing of his phone’s alarm, the vibrations shaking the entire bedside table. He groans, swiping his arm blindly until it quiets and only then he opens his eyes, blinking a couple of times to bring everything into focus. It’s early, way before 7 a.m. and Magnus is groggy, his eyelids still heavy and drooping, but he’s missed feeling like this – missing sleep, wanting to sink back into his bed and stay there until it’s time to have dinner.

 After that one evening, it’s been slowly getting better – not having to hide himself away, instead leaning on Alec when he needed to, let Magnus begin the healing process. It’s not easy, nor is it quick, but he’s getting there and this morning feels like another step in the right direction: he managed to sleep through the night and there’s the subtle feeling of pride curling beneath his sternum, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

 He lays still for a moment, listens to the tiny snores Alec’s making on his side of the bed, long body curled into the fetal position with his arms tucked in near his face. Magnus has a client in an hour or so, the only thing pushing him out of the warmth of the sheets, as he sits up on the edge and takes his phone to check all of the notifications. There’s a couple emails, along with a text from Catarina and Magnus is already thinking about all the things he’ll have to do today, when he feels an arm sneaking its way around his waist.

 “Don’t get up yet.” Alec’s voice is sleep-broken and slow and it’s so hard not to give in immediately, especially when Magnus twists around to see Alec still has his eyes closed, but there is a subtle smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

 “I have to get ready, Alexander.”  He sighs, the fondness in his voice spilling over into the chuckle that escapes him.

 “15 minutes, please? I don’t get to see you often enough lately.”

 The words are simple and uninhibited, painfully honest in the trickling morning light and they tug at Magnus’ heart, his resolve crumbling piece by piece. Just as Magnus is about to answer, the phone in his hand starts its shrill song again and Alec uses the couple of seconds of distraction to stage an attack, his fingers sinking into Magnus’ side, tickling him. He lets out a surprised yelp melting into loud laughter as he falls back against the bed, struggling for a moment until he’s able to capture Alec’s hand in his with a noise of victory amongst his breathless chuckles.

 Somewhere during their little play-fight Alec managed to grab Magnus’ phone, who now has a wonderful angle of his boyfriend holding the forsaken thing above his head, arms stretched up and muscles shifting beneath the runed skin.

 “I’m setting the snooze for 15 minutes.” He says and puts it down on the nightstand before flopping down onto the pillows, head tilted down to watch Magnus settled against his chest. They hold the stare for a minute before Alec breaks the silence again. “Will you cuddle me now?”

 Magnus rolls his eyes, a burst of laughter bubbling up in his chest. Feigning exasperation, he pushes up onto his elbows, one eyebrow cocked up and leveling Alec with a Bane-patented look.

 “When did you get so needy?”

 “When you spoiled me with love and affection, probably.” Alec’s reply is dripping with sarcasm, but one of his hands comes down to leave feather-soft touches along Magnus’ exposed collarbone.

 It’s the gesture that does Magnus in and he relents, lifting himself up onto his knees and motioning towards Alec.

 “You win. Now, give me the butt.”  

 Alec shifts until he’s lying on his right side, back turned to Magnus, who slots into the free space, fitting himself along the curves of Alec’s body. With a firm tug, he pulls Alec back until they’re skin against skin, both barely in their underwear, and Alec chuckles, clearly enjoying himself, which only serves to amuse Magnus. Intentionally, he drags his fingertips along Alec’s torso, feels the shadowhunter’s abs contract as he passes over them, teasingly drawing out the touches.

 Alec makes a sound in his throat, twining their fingers together and pulling Magnus’ arm around his chest until they rest against his sternum and Magnus can feel a slow, but strong heartbeat. By now, his response is only half-conscious, breath coming out of his lungs in a breezy sigh and mind quieting as he presses his mouth against the complicated rune on Alec’s shoulder blade, earning a pleased noise.

 “You do more of that, mister, and we will be here much longer than fifteen minutes.”

 “Is that a challenge?”

 Magnus feels more than hears Alec laugh, his chest moving underneath his palm. Magnus presses a soft kiss just beneath Alec’s hairline at the back of his neck, breathes in the familiar scent of a woodsy shampoo.

 “Oh, shut it, now you’re just bragging.”

 “Maybe I am.” Magnus’ voice sounds teasing, but the smile falls, leaving behind something soft as he pushes his face into Alec’s back and holds him just a little bit tighter.

Life’s not perfect and Magnus is still hurting, will be for a while, but moments like these make it easier. One day, he will never have to wait for sleep to come to him. One day, he will be free of his past and of his grief and of his pain. One day, he will heal fully.

  But for now, he’ll take life on one day at a time, with Alec by his side and mornings like these to keep him steady.

[bussanbaby]

imagine robert coming back from idris to check up with the institute.

he’s heard alec has been named head, so he goes to congratulate his son; he knocks and opens the door to alec’s office to see him sat behind a grand desk littered with papers, but he’s not alone - magnus is there with him, dressed in dark, regal colors, but smiling at alec from where he’s perched at the edge of the desk. both turn their heads at the sound and their flirtatious laughter quiets into an awkward sort of impasse where nobody moves, until it’s robert who shatters the moment. 

“alec, can i have a second with you?” he says and alec nods, his eyebrows pulled together. 

as he rounds the desk, alec’s hand comes up to grasp at magnus’ elbow and he leans in for a kiss, short but affectionate - they exchange a couple of hushed words, robert catches something about lunch and he watches his son, someone usually so stonefaced and closed-off, break into a bright grin that doesn’t last - when alec closes the door with them standing outside, he already looks wary, searching robert’s face for clues. 

he hesitates, slightly taken aback by what he has just witnessed.

“i see you’re still... involved with that warlock, magnus.” he starts, the congratulations pushed back and discomfort present at the very centre. it’s not that he doesn’t want to see his son happy, but he’s sure this is only going to end up in heartbreak. alec crosses his arms, shoulders squared, his whole body coiled for a fight. robert tries to amend, palms placatingly held out in front.  “i am just worried for you. i told you, he’s quite a player when it comes to people’s hearts.”

he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth; alec bristles visibly, eyes rolling with indignation.  there’s a hint of a knife-sharp smile tucked into the corner of his mouth as he steps closer, an accusing finger pointed at the oldest lightwood. 

“i am not involved.” he throws the word back, like it’s offensive and stings his tongue. “magnus bane, the high warlock of brooklyn, mind you, is my boyfriend.” 

shadowhunters pass by them and robert tries to quiet alec, wants to keep the next words private, since this doesn’t feel to him like something that should be discussed publicly, but alec pushes past that.

“i love magnus. i would do anything for him and i know that he is one of the most faithful people alive. unlike you.” 

heads turn and robert feels shame and anger spike inside in equal amounts; alec smiles, sharp and wolf-like with satisfaction. he doesn’t feel like his son - this person before him is not a soldier, but a warrior, venomous and proud.

“yeah, mom told me. told us. you don’t deserve her.” alec steps closer, jabs the offending finger at robert’s chest. “and you don’t get to tell me who to love.”

alec takes his hand away, straightens up with his hands clasped behind his back. “now excuse me, dad, i have a date with my warlock boyfriend to go to.” 

left without words, robert watches his son turn and close the door behind him. the corridor feels empty, whispers echoing in the corners. there’s something heavy hanging above his head, maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s something more. 

the congratulations are forgotten.

[bussanbaby]

The darkness inside the bedroom is heavy and still, curtains keeping out the shattered city lights and moon’s glow reaching  up into the windows. It’s almost too quiet, too serene and something pulls Alec from his sleep, but he tries to fight it, buries his face in the pillow with a soft grunt, arm reaching blindly out for Magnus to pull him back, because without his body pressed against his own skin, Alec always feels  cold.

 Once again, there is only empty space and the phantom of a body, the pillow laying askew and the sheets thrown back as if in a hurry.  Alec’s heart sinks in his chest and he feels infinitely more awake right away, eyes blinking rapidly to get used to the lack of light. He slips out from the bed, pads over to the door left ajar, no sign of life anywhere to be seen. Alec keeps his steps as quiet as possible, bare feet over wooden panels and multiple kinds of rugs until he stops by one of the pillars in the living room, leaning his shoulder against it, grainy brick sharp on his skin.

 He can make out Magnus’ silhouette against the balcony doors with the curtains pulled back, silver and watery moonlight falling around him like a halo, catching on the edges of his muscles and the wrinkles in the pajama pants he’s wearing. He’s standing completely still, a marble statue in a dark room, if it wasn’t for the movement of his chest with each and every measured breath.

 “Magnus?”

It all sounds too loud and Magnus startles, hands forming into fists at his sides, but when he turns and sees Alec, his posture falls as if he expected to see someone else. He immediately looks a little guilty, eyes darting over the furniture as Alec steps up to him, taking Magnus by the elbows.

 Only then the warlock tips his head up, slowly and hesitantly and there’s a deep-set weariness etched into the lines of his face that seems to become visible only after sundown, as that’s when the ugliest thoughts come out, dark corners of his home a reminder of old memories that linger around like dust motes.

 There have been ups and downs in their recent past and tonight seems to be another dip in Magnus’ mood. His hair is ruffled in the way that indicates he’s been repeatedly running his fingers through it and his eyes are shimmery, as if there were tears that were not allowed to fall.

 “Did I wake you?” Magnus asks, voice worn and raspy and Alec tightens his grip a little, thumbs pressing against soft skin and veins on the inside of his arms.

 He shakes his head, eyebrows drawn down with determination, but eyes kind.

 “No, but you should’ve.”

 It hurts Alec to see Magnus like this and to not be fully able to help him, instead limited to standing on the sidelines. If he could, he’d take all of those memories, share Magnus’ suffering, chase away all the ghosts tugging at his sleeves and shield him from anything the world throws at him. He would, but he can’t, because this is a path Magnus has to walk alone, it’s his grief to bear after all, so Alec just hopes what he can do is enough.

 “I know. I just-“ Magnus closes his eyes, swallows sharply, mouth thinning out into a straight line as he grinds his teeth together, a battle raging where it can’t be seen. “It’s been so good lately and I didn’t want to worry you. Tonight, I dreamed about my mother and since I woke up, every time I look at my hands they’re covered in blood.”

 Something colder than ice curls behind Alec’s ribs as he slides his fingers down Magnus’ forearms and grabs his wrists to bring his hands into a shaft of bright moonlight. There’s no blood, there’s nothing but warm skin and long fingers curling loosely in. Alec traces the lines inside of Magnus’ palms and the small crescent indents left behind by his nails; when Alec kisses Magnus’ hands with reverence, he hears him sigh tiredly from the bottom of his chest.

 “It was just a dream, Magnus, it’s okay.” Alec moves to embrace Magnus, pull him against his chest and something cracks in his heart when the warlock sags against him, letting down all of his walls.

 Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s neck and presses their cheeks together as tears fall quietly from his eyes, every now and then a hiccup wrecking through his body, something strangely dignified about his pain. Alec holds him as tightly as possible, rocking them from side to side. Time doesn’t feel fleeting then, instead heavy all around them as Alec brushes soft kisses against Magnus’ temple and cheekbone, words falling from his mouth in hushed tones.

 “You’re doing so good.” He says. “I’m here. You have me. I love you.”

 Alec will repeat those truths until the end of time if necessary, because while there’s no way to put out the fire, they will walk through it together, shoulder to shoulder, because for Alec that’s what it means to love someone – to hold them in times of need and to stay faithful by their side, no matter whether it is a bright day or a middle of the night.

 They stay there until the sun rises, bathing them in warm tones, golden and bright and hopeful as a new chance starts before their eyes. Magnus’ tears have stopped, but they’re still wrapped up in each other, two heartbeats in sync as they stand and watch the world come alive through the glass. In that very moment, Alec promises himself that as long as he’s breathing Magnus will never be truly alone ever again.

[oikyskau]

prompt: magnus + alec + 22

Malec + “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Now, wait… wait. Just another step.”

The night was warm, a summer breeze softlycaressing their bodies as Alec led a blindfolded Magnus onto the roof of theirloft. It was still two hours until midnight, but both Alec and Magnus had beentoo impatient to wait any longer, the night a long awaited one. Still, the airwas filled with serenity, not anxiousness, and they felt the everlasting lovegently burned into their skin.

Hands resting on Magnus’ shoulders, Alecpressed a small kiss to his cheek. He had always known their love for eachother was endless. It had just never occurred to him to take it quite asliterally until eternity had been presented to them. A few more steps, and Alecwas facing Magnus, anticipation boiling hot in his gut.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Magnus’ voice wasimpatient, eagerly so, and Alec noticed the movement of his fingers, the desireto use his magic. With a chuckle, he took one last look around, before steppingcloser again.

“Yes, Magnus. Open your eyes.”

Without preamble, Magnus snapped hisfingers, and the blindfold disappeared. Slowly, he opened his eyes, theirbeautiful brown full of light, and immediately fixed them on Alec. Anothersecond and Alec watched him take a deep breath as he noticed the rest of theroof décor.

Decorated with fairy lights and deep red flowers, italmost looked like a garden. Warmth settling in his bones, Magnus was remindedof a night many years ago.

“Are you trying to propose again,Alexander? I’m pretty sure we are already married.” The words were teasing, butthere was nothing but fondness in Magnus’ voice. However, that quickly turnedinto amusement when he noticed the sheepish smile on Alec’s face.

“I, um,” Alec began. Moving closer toMagnus, Alec took hold of his hand with both of his, “I wanted this to beromantic so— “ Interrupted by Magnus’ snort, Alec shot him a serious look. “WhichI can be if I try, you know this.”

“Of course, love, I apologize,” Magnus saidwith faux seriousness, “Do go on.”

“As I was saying,” Alec continued, “Iwanted this to be romantic. I wanted to—It’s been 100 years since you marriedme. And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life. It hasn’t beeneasy, especially recently.” Stopping briefly, Alec took a deep breath, Magnus’hand coming to rest on his chest. “But being with you gave me the strength Ineeded and- thank you, so much. You are my husband, the father of my children,the love of my immortal life. You mean everythingto me, Magnus. I love you with everything that I have, and I will continueloving you with everything that I have, if you allow it. So, will you, Magnus Lightwood-Bane,marry me, Alexander Lightwood-Bane, a second time? For another 100 years byeach other’s side?”

There was a beautiful smile blooming onMagnus’ face, and Alec released his hand to wipe the tears from his husband’seyes. Giving a sweet laugh, Magnus leaned in and pressed a short kiss to Alec’slips. “Of course I will marry you again, Alexander. But maybe we should stopfooling ourselves and just call it forever by each other’s side?”

“Forever sounds good,” Alec murmured,pressing another kiss to the edge of Magnus’ mouth. And another, and another,until both were overcome with giggles and never-ending happiness. And they didn’tstop, until well into the morning light.

[bussanbaby]

182 + malec

182. “Stay the night. Please.”

send me a prompt?

„Did I ever tell you about the time when Catarina andI stumbled upon the ruins of a lost city when we were exploring the Amazonianjungle?” Magnus’ voice carries easily through the loft as he moves ahead to themain living space and Alec stops in the hall to set all of the shopping bags aside neatly.

After that, he follows further in, pauses in thedoorway – the golden light from the chandelier above their heads reflectsagainst the crystals sewn onto his coat, lights up the streaks in his hair andsimply makes Magnus look exquisite; Alec’s stuck staring as the warlock shrugsoff the coat one shoulder at a time and glances over at Alec when no replycomes for a moment too long. It’s very late on an evening and they’ve had a fewdrinks with their dinner, so Alec’s mind is a little hazy. He wants to sinkinto the ambiance of the flat, keep the last few hours in a jar like fireflies,as he never wants this day to end.

“No, you didn’t. I’d love to hear about it, though.”Alec replies, his voice a low hum, as he reduces the space separating themenough to reach out and place his hands against Magnus’ chest. He’s dressed ina well-fitted three-piece suit, black and smooth beneath Alec’s fingertips. Acoy smile plays on Magnus’ lips while something entirely else flickers in thosegorgeous eyes and Alec wants to kiss him so badly.

It’s their 8th date, yes, he’s counting. He’llstop one day, hopefully lost in numbers too big to keep track of, but theirrelationships still feels like a precious novelty and Alec wants to savor everysingle second of their time together. Magnus snaps his fingers, effectivelypulling Alec from his thoughts, blue sparks glinting off of Magnus’ rings andthe doors onto the balcony open without a noise.

“It was about a century ago, I’d say. Originally, wewere searching for a plant with healing properties…” As he speaks, Magnus takesAlec’s hand to pull him along and outside into darkness, his movements elegantdespite the alcohol in his system.

The cool night breeze does nothing to chill Alec’s heatedskin as he takes a deep breath. The sky is clear, spotted with bright starsdespite the light pollution; at first they stand by the balcony railing withelbows resting against the concrete, watching cars move across the Brooklyn Bridge,but gradually they drift across to the wicker sofa and settle into it. Thestories slow down and peter out into a drowsy silence; they’re sat side by sidewith Alec’s head resting on Magnus’ shoulder, the warlock’s arm around him andfingers tracing shapes through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, as his jacketwas discarded at some point during their earlier conversation.

It feels warm and safe and Alec could stay like thatforever, but there’s something deep in his chest, insistent and pulling and it’sthe want to kiss Magnus, tug soft little noises from his throat, feel hisstrong hands against his ribs. It’s been there since they crossed thethreshold, only growing in power with time until it feels that he’ll die if hedoesn’t do what his heart tells him.

Alec picks his head up, tongue darting out to slipacross his lower lip, fingers gently pressing against Magnus’ thigh to get hisattention. He hums, gaze moving from the helicopter in the sky to Alec’s eyes,dipping down to his mouth for a split second.

“Can I kiss you?”

A smile curls along Magnus’ lips and he cups Alec’sjaw with his free hand, thumb dragging against his lower lip before he leansdown and closes the distance. It’s sweet and tender and slow at first, every touchsparking electricity beneath Alec’s skin. They haven’t been too adventurousyet, still growing comfortable with touching each other, so with kisses comewandering hands and Alec finds himself pushing into Magnus’ lap, settling downagainst his legs, pressing closer until they’re chest to chest and breathingthe same air.

The wind has quieted down and all Alec can hear is hisown heartbeat and the sound of their kisses, while Magnus’ palms travel up histhighs and over his ass to settle around his waist, firm and steadying as Alecdeepens their kiss and there it is, the noise – a little nh sound that makes heat coil low in Alec’s stomach.

They stay like that for a long while, mouths movingtogether, Alec’s fingers working on undoing the buttons of Magnus’ shirt andfinding their way beneath the expensive fabric to settle over hard muscle. It’ssimple and at once it’s so much more – bated breath, hearts racing, losingthemselves in the feeling of skin against skin.

Alec’s phone chirps and he lifts up his head fromwhere he’s eagerly mouthing at Magnus’ Adam’s apple, but before he can make anysort of move to get up, to return to the world of rules and cold Institutewalls, Magnus presses a line of kisses from underneath Alec’s jaw right to hisear, sending shivers through his entire body.

“Stay the night. Please.”

Some truck honks loudly down the street, but all soundfeels underwater and Alec can focus only on Magnus’ arms wrapped tightly aroundhim and the way those words make him feel – pleasure, love, hope, all of itmixing together into something wonderful. He wants to promise he’d stay as longas Magnus wants him to, but his voice is lost in his throat, so all he can dois nod, nose along the sharp line of Magnus’ cheekbone and pray his messagecomes across clear.

He feels Magnus smile more than he sees it happen andthe phone is quickly forgotten, duty ignored in favor of his t-shirt tossedaside and a hungry mouth against his collarbone. Alec stays that night andevery night following, sleep always finding him in Magnus’ arms, lips red andheart full.

[bussanbaby]

165. “Why did you choose me?”  for anon (human au)

Send me prompts?

The city is dark and quiet, night weighing it down like a thick blanket. Sparse lanterns illuminate empty streets and half-finished buildings, blinking red lights of cranes looming over wooden skeletons and stacks of bricks. This is the kind of district you don’t want to find yourself in after dusk, populated only by stray dogs and garbage trucks, where every shadow feels like a nightmare with eyes at your back, ready to jump and take your wallet before taking your life as well.

  Apart from the distant hum of busy highways, cars rushing like blood through urban veins and sirens singing a song of crime, there’s a rumble of cheers and chatter coming from one of the lit up warehouses near the river’s edge. Off-white cigarette smoke rises in wispy plumes towards the high ceiling criss-crossed with beams and holding cheap halogen lights that make every face look hollow.

 The metal sliding door opens just as a limo stops in front of the building, a wave of cacophonous noise pouring out onto the concrete. A tall figure steps out of the car, all sharp lines, black coat and a black hat with a wide brim shrouding most of his face in mystery. Even though the space is crowded shoulder-to-shoulder, the sea of bodies parts before Magnus as he makes his way up the staircase and into the VIP area, the electronic music bouncing against his ribs in an erratic beat. Between the tables and chairs half-naked girls with smiles stuck to their faces carry trays laden with bottles and glasses of expensive alcohol, as well as with packets of white powder for the more exotic tastes.

“Father.” Magnus greets as he sits down, setting his hat on the table and running fingers through his hair to fix the couple of flattened strands. Asmodeus – a smartly dressed, older man with dark slicked back hair and a gaunt face nods in return, sipping on his half-emptied glass of whiskey.

  They stay silent for a moment as Magnus surveys the scene, the chainlink octagon cage in the middle of the space and men of almost every age gathering around it as the time for the main event comes closer. A hand adorned with the family signet falls heavy onto his shoulder and Magnus barely resists the temptation to roll his eyes.

  “Gentlemen, I see you’re all settled in.”

  Magnus tips his head to the side and watches his cousin take a seat by his father’s left hand and their eyes catch, a cutting smirk surfacing on Azazel’s face which Magnus answers with one speaking of confidence. There has always been a touch of rivalry between them and it shows once again, bets placed on two opposing fighters that are about to compete.

  Azazel leans back comfortably in the chair, one leg crossed over the other and hands weaved together in his lap, a picture of decadence paired with the dark suit and glittering cufflinks shaped like wasps.

  “I’m sorry to say this, dear cousin, but your fighter won’t last.” He says, a challenge thrown like a glove at Magnus’ feet.

 “You would know, wouldn’t you? From what I recall, you’ve lost the last two duels tragically.” Magnus feigns nonchalance, fingers coming to rest again his goatee as if he was trying to remember something. “Ah, how much money was that? Near a million, right?”

 Azazel visibly bristles, but keeps his calm, lighting a cigar instead of replying, but Magnus knows the words dug into his ego; yet, Magnus truly hopes he is not wrong on this. He has chosen to patron his fighter, which means bringing him into the more advanced circuit of bloody glitz and glamour, where victories build the path to stardom in this rotten world of illegal brawling. A loss often equals a new position three feet beneath the cold soil, so for the fighter the stakes are much higher than a few rolls of laundered bills.

 Magnus is pulled from his thoughts when the crowd roars, a bald presenter stepping into the octagon with an old-fashioned microphone in hand.

 “Let us welcome tonight’s fresh blood!” He calls, causing the noise to double again, drunk warlords and drug dealers enjoying themselves a bit too much for Magnus’ liking. “On the right, we have Marco Southerland also known as Vigil!”

  A tall, blond man steps into the cage, doing a fistpump above his head before shucking his t-shirt into one of the corners. To Magnus’ careful eye, he doesn’t seem like much of a challenge – rather slender build, the lack of surety shining in blue eyes and a boyish face, but there is always a possibility of a hidden trick that nobody expects.

  “On the left – Alec Lightwood, our new rising star, the ferocious Wolf!”

  Cheers get even louder, threatening to burst everyone’s eardrums when Magnus’ fighter walks into the arena. He’s already shirtless, hands wrapped in boxing tape, skin covered with tattoos, dark hair sprawling the expanse of a muscular chest and stomach. Jaw tight, brows pulled together and calculating, he pays no attention to the public; focused on the goal, his hazel eyes trace the nervous movements of his opponent.

  Magnus feels a tug of nostalgia in his heart, where there was a boy laughing once, there is now a man with only one wish. With nostalgia come questions and with questions comes guilt, but it’s foreign, trapped behind thick walls, as this is not the time nor the place for deeper thoughts.

  10 minutes, 250 thousand dollars at stake, one life to be lost.

 The gong sings a tune, the battle starts.

 At first they only circle around, light on their feet and guards up; Alec tries out a couple of jabs, quickly becoming the leading force of the battle, the one pushing forward with aggressive attacks. For the first couple of minutes, Vigil only minimizes the damage, lets himself get backed up against the fence multiple times and pummeled ruthlessly by Alec; Vigil’s eye is swelling up and there are multiple bruises forming on his body before half of the time is even up.

  There are no breaks, no rest and soon they’re both breathing heavily, droplets of sweat running down their faces and bodies. Then, the unexpected happens. Vigil charges forward, grappling Alec around his middle and bringing him down onto the bloodied mats with a breath-taking thump. There’s a moment of struggle, where they both fight for dominance, elbows and knees going to work, everything allowed not to let yourself get pinned to the ground.

 Magnus feels tense, his palms half-consciously gripping the armrests of his chair. It can’t end like this, it can’t be over before they even got to talk. Attention focused on the two wrestling bodies, Magnus notices Vigil’s arm reaching beneath the band of his shorts and something glittering in the dead light.

 Absently, his mind recognizes a cheap blade. 

(There are no rules for poor man’s gladiators.)

 A blade.

 Azazel chuckles, his eyes hot on the side of Magnus’ face as he stands up and walks over to the railing, leaning heavily on the rusted metal. Anxiety races through his every nerve ending, but he remains stone-faced, heart hammering in his throat. When Vigil’s fingers wrap around the hilt, the entire world goes slow-motion.

 “Alec! Look out!” He calls loudly and somehow it carries over all of the commotion.

 Alec glances up, eyes searching for the source of the voice, widening when they fall on Magnus. The seconds they share feel like forever and Magnus sees a kaleidoscope of emotions pass over Alec’s face starting with confusion, through recognition and shock  to determination. There’s an almost imperceptible nod, Alec’s throat working to swallow as he gathers his strength.

 With a vicious kick to his gut delivered by Alec, Vigil is on his back and gasping in pain, his secret weapon clattering to the ground far out of his grasp.  The crowd roars in delight, claps and chants in Alec’s name. The fluorescent lights hold his eyes in the shadows, glinting off of the ruby red coating the lower half of his face.

 With a snarl, Alec lunges at Vigil, sitting atop of him, fists driving down over and over and over. There’s no jury, just the thirst for blood of everyone gathered, Alec with his teeth bared and anger present in every hit. It stops being a brawl at one point, instead turning into a personal vendetta on the world, each punch a call for justice for the ones on the wrong side of the scale.

 Magnus doesn’t pay attention to his father laughing in delight at all of the chaos, doesn’t acknowledge Azazel’s quiet exit, stays frozen against the railing and watches Alec beat the everloving shit out of the other guy until someone pulls him off and announces him a winner. Vigil is breathing, but doesn’t move from the octagon, his face swollen and bloody and bearing close to no resemblance to the one Magnus saw nearly 10 minutes ago.

  The main event of the evening is done, bookmakers start milling around the crowd as Magnus says goodbye to Asmodeus, accepting his congratulations with an appropriate smile before he makes his way over to a tiny room tucked into the opposite corner. It’s dingy, with a sink and a cracked mirror above it, a couple of metal lockers and two benches, one of them currently occupied by Alec.

 Magnus closes the door behind his back, locking out most of the noise, leaving the two of them in somber silence, a minefield of questions with no answers. Alec picks up his head from where it was resting in his hands and looks at Magnus, the smile on his mouth a little bit crooked, something bitter sitting underneath.

 “Why did you choose me?” He says, voice raspy, eyes following Magnus’ every movement as he sits on the bench opposite of Alec, a small bit of space between their knees.

  So many answers come to Magnus’ mind at once and he chuckles.

  “I did my research on you – strong, resilient, tenacious… You had good chances.”

  At that, Alec snorts loudly, wiping at his face and wincing when his palm brushes against his nose. “That’s all?”

  “You know it’s not.” Magnus sighs, reaching out for Alec’s hands. There’s a fondness lingering between them even with the years that divide them and Magnus feels his heart leap painfully for the things they had.

 “I’m not a charity case, Magnus. I don’t need your pity.”

 “I’m not pitying you. We’ve promised each other something.”

 They fall silent as Magnus starts to unwrap the boxing tape pulled tight over Alec’s skin, revealing purple and green and yellow bruises bleeding into black-ink tattoos, knuckles marked with scars. Magnus runs his thumb along the lines, Alec’s fingers twitching in his grasp.

 “After you left, it-“ Alec pauses, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Everything went to shit after that summer.”

 Magnus nods. “Is that why you’re a fighter now?”

 “I have to pay back my parents’ debts. God knows they can’t.” Alec laughs, but it’s a hollow sound, devoid of its old mirth.

 So the gossip that went around was true, big money borrowed from the wrong people, misguided decisions and mishandled deals leading to revenge and children turning into orphans.

 “What about-“ Magnus starts, words sticking to his throat.

  “They’re fine. Alive.” The answer comes out rushed, a half-truth that Alec seems to reconsider. “Jace’s in jail, but… we’re okay.” He adds, finding Magnus’ eyes, who nods.

  They lapse into silence again and Magnus moves onto unwrapping the other hand. He feels as if they’re alone in the world, sat in their little bubble, trying to figure each other out. Magnus can sense Alec’s eyes on him, a curious gaze like warm fingers against his jaw.

 “Do you ever wish we could go back?” Magnus almost misses the question, vulnerable and quiet, but he meets Alec’s eyes, finally taking a moment to take in his face from up close – it’s much sharper around the edges, the once patchy facial hair of a teenager a fully-fledged stubble now, but Magnus gets caught on the shape of Alec’s lower lip, the faint memory of it dragging against his skin still tangible.

  He smiles, letting the crumpled tape fall onto the floor. “Every day, Alexander. I wish I’d never left.” Leaning back against the cold wall, Magnus watches Alec move to the sink and wash away all of the blood meticulously until the water runs clear again. Their eyes meet in the mirror, Alec’s reflection distorted by the cracks.

  “We’ve had something good.” He says then moves to grab a duffle bag and pull some clothes from it before starting to change. Magnus closes his eyes and goes back in time; memories like movie frames passing before him – bright smiles, hands tangled together, shy kisses behind the lockers and much braver kisses in the privacy of their rooms, long conversations stretching until sunrise.

  “We have. Do you remember that weekend that we drove far out of the city and had a picnic on the hood of your dad’s car?”

  Alec’s laughter rings out and it’s a song Magnus missed listening to.

  “Oh, I remember another thing that happened on the hood of that car.”

 They both snicker at the innuendo and Magnus pulls himself together with a sigh, brushes off some invisible lint from his coat. Alec’s dressed now, the bag slung over his shoulder and an unreadable expression on his face. They stand opposite each other, two sides of the same coin forged in different worlds.

  It’s strange to feel this sort of familiarity again; after everything they’ve gone through, they’re still pulled together like magnets, until there’s only a couple of inches left and Magnus can count all of the specks of green in Alec’s hazel eyes. Their fingers brush tentatively together, like they used to years ago, when they still had golden futures, before they had to grow up too quickly.

  “You were my first everything.” Alec whispers, voice breaking over the last word.

 They’re both touch-starved and hopeful, too soft-hearted for the world this cruel, but Magnus has never loved anyone more than the one before him, has never felt more at home than with his Alec by his side for so many years. And maybe it was all fate’s doing, to keep them apart for so long only to let them find each other again, to make the dreams a reality once more.

 “I’m still yours if you want me.” Magnus whispers back, pressing closer until they’re kissing and it feels steadying, like finding land after being lost at sea. It’s warm lips and warmer bodies and Alec’s quiet gasp when his back hits the wall. The duffle bag drops to the floor and Alec twists his hands into the fabric of Magnus’ coat; they breathe with cheeks pushed together, and simply hold on even when the closest they can get doesn’t feel close enough. 

Years back, they promised each other forever and Magnus intends on keeping that vow.

[oikyskau]

The night was laden with electricity, cracking over the asphalt. The air heavy and burning, still reeling with the screams of the dead as darkness encroached the world and their lives. The battle was still going strong, circle members littering the long walkways within the garden. Charred flowers were left in its wake, and Magnus couldn’t help but mourn the destruction of such beauty.

Still, he thought as his fingers sparked and the skies roared, there was no time to dwell on the concept of mortality. Raising his hands, he threw the approaching circle member, a man slowed by the arrow sticking out of his leg, against a low barricade, satisfied by the sound of breaking bones. Another arrow flew past him, the sound somehow loud despite the screams of pain all around him. Magnus knew that Alec wasn’t supposed to be here, having been assigned to the other shadowhunters within the building. A smile played at his lips when he imagined Alec’s glare as he listened to Imogen’s words, the ever present war of head against heart raging fiercely. It was clear which one had won this time.

Jace had been here too, a moment ago. Throwing a thankful nod in Magnus’ direction after they had briefly fought together. Jace’s words were still ringing in his ears, the boy standing in his loft with guilt ridden eyes. I know nothing I say will make this right. But I’m here if you need me, Magnus.

It was really no surprise that he had found both brothers at his side when the battle had begun. Another unsurprising thing had been Alec’s concerned look, coupled with the respect he had always shown him, as they had stood together, a single sphere of calm. Alec hadn’t touched him, but waited for Magnus to press his lips to Alec’s cheek, a be safe whispered into the air. With a sigh, Magnus had turned away, only for Alec to gently grasp his fingers.

“I love you,” he had murmured, gaze heavy.

“I know,” Magnus had answered, “I love you, too.”

Now, chaos was raging, and this had always been a place which made Magnus feel more than welcome. At this point, he was hanging on by a single thread. Emotions kept spilling over the edges of the walls he had built anew after regaining his own body, pretending to all that he was fine. But his past was catching up to him, his reflection blurred in all mirrors he passed. It was inevitable really, his own breakdown. Nevertheless, it would come on his own terms. And thus, he built and built just as the magic built in his hands as he stood on the burned grass. This was the one thing he could do, channel his emotions into power until only wrath remained.

Without preamble, he slammed his hand onto the ground. Black smoke rose from his body, encircling the three people who had the audacity to attempt an attack. It scratched at their legs, moving up until it could bury right into their hearts. Soon, only ash remained, and Magnus moved on.

He could feel his magic snap at its next opponent, just as outraged as him. It had been violated, used in ways it didn’t want to be used, and now it was ready to destroy all those who had made that happen. The air turned thick, the temperature rose. Magnus was prepared to fight every single person standing in his way until he reached Valentine himself. They dared to challenge him? Hell was his kingdom, and they would feel its presence in their souls. He wanted to make sure that no one would ever suffer the way he did, and if this meant punching a few circle members? All the better.

Suddenly, an arm grabbed his and promptly let go, the smell of burned flesh strong in the air. Magnus turned, and stopped the oncoming seraph by the blade. He saw his opponent’s eyes widen, but before she could comprehend his powers, he drove the sword back, burying it in her shoulder. Blood spattered, and he delivered a kick, but his advance was stopped by an arrow hitting her face.

Alec’s presence was felt in his bones. Just as the presence of half a dozen circle members following him. Sensing his boyfriend at his back, his head turned slightly in his direction.

“Have you brought me a surprise?”

“Yes.” Alec’s voice shook with the thrill of battle, “I hope you like it, babe.”

“Alexander,” Magnus scoffed, “we’ll have to talk about your gift giving skills when we get home.”

Before Alec could respond, their opponents moved. Magnus heard Alec’s seraph blade being activated behind him, their energies feeding off one another. With a shout, Alec charged, and Magnus threw his hands forward at the same time.

His magic filled the air with static, its red colour bleeding into everything it touched. Still, Alec moved between its destruction, the sparks dancing around him, settling on his skin when a circle member came too close. Magnus was stunned momentarily by the easy way they fit. He had always known that Alec and him were two parts of a whole, but feeling his magic accept this as truth was something different, something more. The well of emotions within him threatened to overflow once again, and Magnus intensified his magic, hoping to distract himself from the revelation burning in his veins.

Soon enough, they were left standing alone. Blood was pooling on the ground, the grass black and wet. With a frown, Magnus turned his gaze to the bodies lying on the grass, and it only cleared slightly when he noticed Alec moving to his side.

“Are you alright?” Alec’s hands hovered over his body, clearly revealing Alec’s need for an answer. Magnus gave a nod, and Alec breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t you have to report back?” Magnus asked, and the scowl on Alec’s face almost made a laugh spill past his lips. Almost.

“Jace already knows where I am.” There was bitterness coating his tongue, one which Magnus knew just too well, “He’ll tell Imogen what she needs to know.”

“I don’t think that will help your standing with the clave, Alexander.” It was one thing for Magnus to swear off the clave’s judgement, but Alec had always wanted-

“I just-” Alec cut into his thoughts, his jaw tight, “I don’t care about that right now. I don’t- They’ll never stop hating me because I’m-, well, I’m too gay for the clave, after all.”

“And your boyfriend is too much of a downworlder.”

“And my boyfriend is too much of a downworlder,” Alec echoed, “It’s just.. I’m the most qualified person to lead this Institute, I was raised for this, and still.. it’s not enough. I don’t even know if I still want it after all this. A part of me just wants to tell them to go fuck themselves and let them figure out how to keep anything together without me.”

“Sometimes, things like these seem hopeless, and you don’t know what to do.” Magnus could feel his words running ahead, saying more than he wanted to, and his heartbeat hammered against his chest. “There will always be people who hate you, but in the end all that matters are those who don’t. Maybe you want to show those who do that they’re wrong, work twice as hard and swallow the disappointment when even that is not enough, just to prevail, bloody but victorious. But if the goal is not want you want most in the world, is pretending really worth it? It’s not an easy decision, and it requires a lot of introspection.” Taking a deep breath, Magnus forced an easy smile onto his face. “I suppose you have to follow your heart, Alexander.”

Alec’s eyes were piercing, even as a small smile grew on his face, “You’re right,” he said, “we have to do what we want, what is best for ourselves. Thank you.”

Magnus felt too hot suddenly, like the smile on his face was burning his skin. Was pretending really worth it? There was a choice, lying heavy on his mind, one that was still his to make. He could pretend, hide everything away until he forgot again, let the hole in his chest grow, but was that what he truly wanted? Magnus felt the ocean within him rise, up his body, up his throat, up and up and up until it lay right on the edge, and this time he opened the lid.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore, Alexander.”

Alec’s eyes snapped back up to him, all attention on Magnus. His hand was still hovering over his arm, and Magnus leaned into it, allowed himself to lean on Alec in a way he hadn’t before.

“Okay,” Alec said softly, hand slowly running over Magnus’ skin, “whatever you want.”

“Let’s go home.”

Moving away, Magnus caught Alec’s hand in his, and opened the portal.

Telling him about his past would not be for Alec after all. It had to happen for Magnus himself, be a way for him to finally work through it without simply forgetting, he knew that now. And maybe, hopefully, he had finally found someone who would simply listen and hold his hand while Magnus did just that.

Hold my hand, Magnus thought with a smile as he intertwined their fingers, and lend me strength for the journey ahead.

[oikyskau]

Alec has no chill

[oikyskau]

you should write magnus and alec making dinner for themselves after a long day and dancing to pop songs and they can't even kiss each other properly because they keep laughing and giggling (i feel you on this writer's block curse)

Alec didn’t quite know how he found himself here. Here, in his home, caught in this rainbow-coloured feeling, this all encompassing glow of happiness.

The day had begun like a whirlwind. Awoken to a soft press of lips, Magnus’ sleep heavy voice murmuring about a whole day of appointments as he made to leave, Alec had known right then that he’d be deprived of rest very soon. He had held Magnus’ hand a second longer, groggily inquiring about their plans for dinner. Another kiss, and he had been alone, taking a short moment to turn his face into the pillow and willing the scent to stay with him until he came back in the evening.

The Institute had proven his suspicions right. Multiple demon attacks, a new shadowhunter arriving from London, and never ending stress were the things that awaited him once he stepped out of his office again. Additionally, his break had been filled with Clary’s voice, which he didn’t consider relaxing in any capacity. Once he managed to send Magnus a short message, work had been calling again. When he checked his phone 2 hours later, Magnus’ answer had filled him with so much longing, he could hardly breathe.

I’m guessing she’s not invited to the next dinner party then? Sadly, I’m too busy to talk, I’d call you otherwise. Don’t overwork yourself. See you at home, baby.

Hours later, he had arrived to an exhausted Magnus, sleeves rolled up and smile blinding as he began cutting the vegetables. Darkness had already fallen, and his silhouette had been draped in the soft light of the loft. Alec couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but the sight made his heart stutter and chest fill with warmth.

They had cooked, exhaustion soon turning into a soft high. Alec had just raised his spoon to Magnus’ lips for a taste, when the beat of the radio changed, and he was momentarily struck by the fact that it was indeed familiar to him. Magnus’ eyes had widened and-

“Magnus, no.”

“There’s something about you, that makes my skies blue,” Magnus sang, the grin easy on his face. And as much as Alec wanted to remain stoic (meaning not at all), he couldn’t help but let the laughter overtake him when Magnus twirled him around the room.

Which is how that feeling found its way into his chest.

Soon, they were both singing, giggles between words, any attempts at kissing fruitless and interrupted either by their own laughter or by shouted words delivered with false seriousness. And as the song trailed off, and they were both idly swaying in the living room, chests still shaking, foreheads resting against each other, the light caught on their forms, colours flowing down their bodies. Their eyelids dipped, and the look Magnus gave him sent a pleasant shiver down Alec’s spine.

“How was your day?” he breathed.

“Exhausting.” Magnus’ voice came as a whisper, “Better now that I’m with you.”

Magnus’ hand dragged down his back slowly.

“Are you still?” Alec asked, voice scratching against his throat, “Exhausted, I mean.”

“Yes.” Magnus pressed his lips to Alec’s cheek. “But not too much.”

“Is that so?”

Alec felt Magnus’ answering hum in his bones.

Then, bathed in this feeling, that look, the smell of food in the air mixed with that scent that was so very Magnus and, not surprisingly, Alec’s own. And as the golden light illuminated Magnus’ deep brown eyes, Alec recognized the warmth in his chest for what it was.

The feeling of home.

[mlmshadowhuntersource-blog]

I apologize for us not being active with posting other than the big bang stuff, but Life keeps happening to both of us. So, if you want us to see your content we track the tag mlmshadowhuntersource. We reblog all types of original content as long as it contains either a mlm ship or a male character/actor (let’s be real all of the sh male characters are mlm). 

- Ira