in which alec has something important to ask his sister.
“Look, Alec, I know you have something about getting here at the ass crack of dawn every day, but don’t make me do it with you.” Isabelle’s voice is sour as she enters Alec’s office and stands in front of his desk, hands on her hips and with a scathing look on her face.
“Figured you’d say that.” Alec says, gesturing to the steaming mug of coffee sitting on his desk with his sister’s requisite one sugar, one creamer already mixed in.
She huffs, but picks up the mug and takes a giant gulp anyways, before setting it down. “So what’s this all important thing you just had to talk about before my brain cells have had the chance to wake up?”
Alec smiles at her. “I want you to take over.”
“Take over what? Simon’s training? Because you know that I’ll just get distracted and it’s been good for Jace because it takes his mind off Cla–”
“No, Isabelle.” Alec says, watching with a fond smile on his face as Izzy lowers her previously gesticulating hands to her sides and narrows her eyes at him in suspicion.
He crosses to the other side of his desk where his sister is standing, the suspicion in her eyes growing with every step he takes towards her.
“I got a call from Alicante last night.” He begins, pausing when the suspicion in Isabelle’s eyes disappears, replaced by a look of surprise.
“What did they want?”
“Me.” He says, unable to fight the giant grin that takes over his face. “They want me to be the new Inquisitor.”
Isabelle’s mouth falls open in shock in a comical, perfect ‘o.’ She’s silent for just a second before she lets out a shriek of delight that nearly has Alec jumping out of his skin.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” She yells, before throwing her arms around his neck and enveloping him in her signature, bone-crushing, asthma-inducing hug.
“Alec! Oh my God! That’s amazing!” She shrieks in his ear, but Alec really can’t bring himself to care because he’s laughing and hugging his sister back with just as much fervour. The same indescribable joy and excitement that had flooded him last night when he got the phone call from Jia Penhallow courses through him now, made even more incredible by his sister’s infectious excitement.
When she lets go of him, the smile that lights up her face warms his heart. “You’re going to take it, right? I mean of course you are. Wait –” she pauses, the smile slipping just a little, “That would mean you’d have to move to Alicante. What about Magnus?”
“That’s the other thing.” Alec says, grinning and leaning against the edge of his desk. “Jia said a lot during the phone call. One of the things she said was that it was way past time for the Clave and the Downworld to work together. I mean, if it hadn’t been for Magnus, the Shadow World as we know it wouldn’t have existed.”
Izzy nods as Alec continues, “Which is why, Magnus is coming with me. They want him to be the High Warlock of Alicante.”
Isabelle’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as the smile stretches itself across her face again. Her hands come up to her mouth. “No way.” She whispers in delight.
Alec nods. “Yes way.”
He recalls the smile that had played itself over his husband’s lips last night when Jia had offered him the position. Magnus had been quiet for a while, simply listening to Jia outlining the position as his smile had slowly grown wider. When he’d accepted, his voice had been hushed, a quiet affirmation.
“I never thought I’d see this day.” He’d said quietly to Alec, when Jia hung up. “In all my years, I never thought this day would come, Alexander. A day when someone like me could become someone like this.”
“I don’t know anyone more perfect for this.” Alec had murmured against Magnus’ temple as he pulled him into a hug. Magnus had relaxed against his frame, arms coming up wrap tightly around Alec’s middle. Alec felt his heartbeat against his own as Magnus sighed. “I’m so proud of you.”
He looks up at Isabelle now, and notices with a slight pang in his heart that her eyes are swimming with tears.
“That’s really it, huh.” She says, voice thick with emotion. “You’re really leaving.”
“Don’t say that.” He says firmly, taking his sister’s hands in his, “I’m only a portal away. You say the word and I’ll be there. One of the perks of being married to the person who invented the portal.” He grins.
Izzy lets out a laugh, cocking her head to the side and regarding him. “What are we going to do without you? What am I going to do without you?”
“You’ll do exactly what you were meant to do.” Alec says, “That’s what I meant by wanting you to take over. I want you to be the new Head of the Institute.”
Isabelle’s tears finally fall as she sucks in a sharp breath and closes her eyes. Alec feels his own eyes burn. When she opens them, she lets out another laugh, shaking her head.
“What do you say?” Alec asks his sister.
“You really mean that?” She whispers, and all of a sudden, Alec is transported back to the countless nights he spent by her crib as a child, watching intently as her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, scared that if he looked away for even a second, this wondrous new creature that suddenly held every particle of him would stop breathing. He remembers making a promise to her, her tiny fingers wrapped around his slightly bigger one, that he would always be there for her, no matter what. He remembers making the same promise to her, albeit not aloud, every time she came to him over the years, whether it was for advice, or to cry, or to simply hug him, that his presence was always going to be unwavering.
“Of course I do. There’s no one else I would rather have.” He says softly, bring up his hand to her face to wipe away the tears from under his eyes.
“Then yes. A thousand times, yes. I’ll do it.” She grins, laughing as Alec pulls her into another hug. And in that moment, as the scent of her perfume envelopes him, Alec wonders what miraculous thing he’d done to deserve a sister like Isabelle.
“I love you, big brother.”
Alec smiles, hugging her tighter. “I love you too, Iz.”
also known as the ‘magnus bane & ragnor fell reunion special’ unknowingly inspired by ‘I Fought The World For Your Hand’ by @magnusbicon 💜
read on ao3
---
“Charming little scrapbook you’ve got here.”
Magnus let the door shut behind him, falling back onto it as though the ground had been pulled from beneath his feet – which, given the sight before him, might as well have been the case.
“You could have at least sent an invitation.”
Magnus tilted his head, pushing himself off the door with staggering footsteps. “You could have at least told me that you weren’t dead.”
Ragnor took a long sip, his fingers curled delicately around a teacup from a set he’d bought Magnus at least three hundred years ago. Magnus had hidden them away after Ragnor’s … well. After he’d thought he’d seen his best friend die. Apparently he’d been wrong about that.
“Should I have called?” Ragnor let his cup clink against its saucer. “Or just dropped in out of the blue, somewhere between the defeat of Valentine and Lilith’s uprising? Or simply crashed your wedding, as a memento of nostalgia?”
Something warm flared and then settled in Magnus’ chest. Ragnor’s ghost would have been far kinder than this.
“A letter by pigeon would have sufficed.” Magnus let his coat fall from his shoulders, casting it towards his wardrobe. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
Ragnor summoned a matching cup, the ornate teacup floating through the air to fill it and his own. “Oh, quite a lot I imagine, but I’m not here to get philosophical. I’m here for you, my friend.”
“I’m fine,” Magnus settled into the seat opposite Ragnor, taking the offered cup with a nod of gratitude. “I’ve been told that I’m positively glowing.”
“Married life certainly seems to be treating you well,” Ragnor inclined his head toward the photo album, open to a two-page spread on Magnus and Alec’s first dance as husbands. “I am sorry I could not attend, I had some loose ends to tie up before I could return. I would have liked to see your happiness in person.”
“Fortunately, it hasn’t run off on me yet.” Magnus took a slow sip from his cup, letting the heat course through him. “There is a joke in there, but I’ll refrain from pointing it out.”
Ragnor raised a curt eyebrow. “How generous. No jokes about my complexion, how I’m positively green with envy?”
Magnus grinned behind the rim of his cup. “Not yet, but if you give me enough time, I’m sure I could try my hand at a couple, mon chou.”
“Heavens,” Ragnor rolled his eyes, pouting slightly. “I even missed your nefarious puns.”
Magnus reached over, squeezing Ragnor’s hand – though in affection, or assurance, it wasn’t clear, not even to him. He believed that Ragnor was truly here, but cementing that knowledge wasn’t as easy as accepting it.
“I had to protect you.” Ragnor explained, after a moment, both of them complacent with the moment, with each other. “If Valentine found out about you, that you were helping his daughter and the rest of the Shadowhunters, that you’d hid so many warlocks out of his reach? I hoped, if he thought I was dead, it would feed his ego enough for you to make a safe escape.”
Magnus twisted his wedding ring around his finger. “I’m afraid escaping wasn’t my focus.”
Ragnor scoffed inelegantly. “Yes, I can see that. I have to say, when I projected into your life, insisting that you chase after love, I didn’t see this coming. I thought the Lightwood boy would be good for you, but this…”
“Before Alexander, I would have agreed with you. But he’s … something else. Something special.”
“Then I’m glad you fought for it.” Ragnor knocked at Magnus’ foot with his own. “He’s good for you. I’d be disgusted by the sheer depth and force of it all if I wasn’t so happy for you.”
“I’d love for you to meet him.” Magnus smiled, unbidden, at the thought. “I think you’d get along like a house on fire.”
“Well,” Ragnor leant forward, placing his cup on the tray next to the teapot. “If you don’t mind the company, I was hoping I could stay a little longer. Not terribly so, I know better than to get between newlyweds, but I feel … quite dreadful, for tricking you the way I did, and for so long.”
Magnus reached out and squeezed Ragnor’s hand, soft knuckles and coarse fingertips, wisened from centuries of magic and just as warm as they’d ever been. “Forget minding, I insist upon it. We’ll make a whole thing of it.”
“I wish I could have told you.” Ragnor whispered, far more sensitive than he’d usually allow. “I couldn’t put you in any more danger than you’d have found yourself, but staying quiet while you held me, thinking I’d died … Magnus, I promise you, I will never put you in a situation like that again.”
“Valentine is dead, my friend, Lilith is no problem of anyone’s, my father is floating in limbo somewhere, and not even the Clave can touch us now. I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, or that I didn’t mourn you, because I refuse to lie about something so important, but I would never hold any of this against you. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now, and that’s what matters the most.”
Ragnor shook his head, his eyes glistening defiantly. “You insufferable bastard.” He curses, lifting one of his hands to scrub the back against his eyes. “I should have known you’d be so understanding. Always seeing the best in others, dismissing their misgivings as though it was no slight, honestly. Catarina would have backhanded me if her little girl hadn’t been standing right there, I saw it in her eyes, but you-“
Magnus waved the teapot and cups back to the kitchen and leapt forward, wrapping his arms around Ragnor’s neck, squeezing tight. “I am just happy to have my oldest friend back.” He smacked a loud kiss to Ragnor’s cheeking, delighting in the low grumbling that follows. “It does not do to dwell on the past, remember? Best to focus on the future. Ours has gold-leaf tiramisu in it.”
“Magnus?” The front door creaked open. “You’ll never believe what I found out happened at our wedding, I can’t believe we – oh.”
Magnus looked over Ragnor’s shoulder, unwinding one arm to wave cheerfully at Alec. “Hello, darling. We’re just having a moment, don’t mind us. It’s not often one of your best friends returns from the ‘not-quite-dead’ you know?”
Alec nodded, slowly, as though hearing Magnus’ words but not quite understanding them. He dropped his briefcase on the nearby armchair, shrugging off his heavy jacket and laying it on top, realisation slowly dawning.
Magnus just squeezed Ragnor tighter. He said he understood, and he did, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get him back a little.
“You must be Ragnor Fell,” Alec guessed, skirting the armchair until he could see Ragnor’s face.
“Unfortunately.” Ragnor bristled. “I’d shake your hand, but this git is trying to pay me back for faking my own death, and I find myself unwilling to deny him that.”
Alec laughed, breathy and bright. “I won’t pry you away. It’s nice to finally get the chance to meet you, I’ve heard great things.”
“And not so great, I’m sure.”
Magnus scoffed, finally pulling away. “You wound me, Ragnor, thinking I’d speak ill of somebody who was not there to defend themselves!”
“I mean, you did tell me he once locked you in your own townhouse so that you couldn’t meet Camille for dinner, but I personally think it was a pretty nice move.”
Magnus fluttered his hands, one at Ragnor – who was beginning to smirk like a smug cat – and the other at Alec, who looked far more pleased with himself than he had any right to, really.
“We don’t need to get into that right now. In fact, we should do the complete opposite, and never talk about it, ever, again.”
“I can’t stop Ragnor talking about it.” Alec pointed out, slyly. “That’s up to him. But I can promise that I won’t bring it up within the next twenty minutes, at least.”
Magnus frowned. “That’s oddly specific.”
Alec shrugged, bending forward to quickly kiss Magnus a belated hello, one hand resting on his chest. “I have to shower. You enjoy the catchup, it’s certainly long overdue.”
“You might want to dress nice, love, we’re going to dinner. And before you ask, yes, all of us.”
“I’m quite intrigued by your ability to capture Magnus’ heart so sweetly.” Ragnor admitted. “He’s quite certain that we’ll get along, and perhaps despite my better judgements, I find it hard to believe he’s wrong. Certainly not about you. He wouldn’t marry just anybody.”
“I count myself lucky to be the one.” Alec squeezed Magnus’ shoulder, and pulled back, heading to the bedroom with the slightest skip in his step.
“Oh, he is quite the charmer.” Ragnor relaxed against the back of his chair. “I see how he swept you off your feet. He treats you well?”
Magnus shakes his head in disbelief. “Like I’m the only other person in the world. Some days it feels like more than I deserve, but I’ve never had reason to doubt his love.”
“Good.” Ragnor smiled, tiny and real. “You deserve it, a love without fault or question. It’s good to see you so happy.”
“Yes, well,” Magnus tapped Ragnor’s foot with his own. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Alright everyone, listen up! We have a slight change to the submission process for the Literary Magazine this semester!” Clary calls out, gathering the attention of everyone in the classroom.
Magnus, with more than a few papers already tucked away into an envelope for his own submissions, listens with a worried look on his face.
“After a few troubling submissions last year, Mrs. Penhallow has decided to err on the side of caution and require that all submissions have a name on them, and be turned in personally to a club member by the writer. Nothing can be turned in entirely anonymous - but if you wish for it to be printed anonymously, we can still do that! To keep them as anonymous as possible there will be one person unaffiliated with the club assigned to reading through them, just to make sure they fit the guidelines before taking the names off as long as you aren’t doing anything stupid like sneaking bomb threats in, or threatening to hurt anyone.”
Magnus tenses. He has some pretty personal submissions, some… well, honestly, they could be quite embarrassing if anyone knew they were from him. Not because he’s ashamed of them - quite the opposite, they’re some of his best writing in his own humble opinion - but because if someone read them with him in mind as the author they might be able to piece together who they’re about. And the last thing he needs is for word to get out that his muse this year is his unrequited crush on Isabelle’s brother. Even Isabelle doesn’t know, despite the increasing frequency he makes excuses to hang out with her while he knows Alec will be around the apartment the two siblings share with their other brother, Jace.
They’re friends in their own right at this point. They follow each other on social media, text more than Magnus texts with anyone else, even Catarina, and usually spend most of their little group hang-outs gravitating towards one another to catch up on life, and school, and everything in between. But it’s been the majority of the year now and after an attempt or two at flirting that fell flat Magnus wonders if it’s entirely one-sided, and he isn’t about to risk their growing friendship to find out. Not when he can just dump his feelings into his writing instead.
Anyone who knows him might connect the dots. But a stranger reading them, and then keeping them anonymous from there? He doesn’t love the idea but it’s better than the alternative of Clary reading them, or someone else in the club. And what can he really do about it other than not submit what he’s been working on for weeks now, and that simply isn’t an option. So Magnus nods in agreement along with the rest of the group before scrawling his name on the bottom of every sheet in the folder previously marked only with the word ~Anonymous, before handing it over to Clary.
With the folder in hand Clary holds it up, grinning from ear-to-ear. “This is pretty thick,” she observes. “You’re going to be half the magazine at this rate.”
“I’ve got a lot of inspiration this year, what can I say?” He smirks a bit before shrugging. “And they probably won’t all make it, anyway. You know how it goes.”
And with that he leaves the rest up to fate, and forgets all about the writing submissions for the rest of the week.
---
The following Thursday he shows up a few minutes early, catching just Clary in the classroom re-arranging the tables into a circle.
“Need some help with that, Biscuit?” he asks, shrugging his messenger bag off of his shoulder and tossing it to the side of the wall by the door.
“Sure you wanna risk messing up that perfect manicure of yours?” Clary quips, and Magnus laughs as he grabs a table without waiting for permission or acceptance.
“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” He asks, and the hopeful tone of his voice must give away the answer he’s hoping for because Clary shakes her head.
“We’re not voting yet,” she says, and Magnus sighs.
All the submissions for the magazine are typed up without names, read aloud to the group, and voted in by a points system. Everyone gets a vote, and the 30 submissions with the highest number of votes gets in. Not all of them are from people in the magazine, either, so it’s really a mixed bag of submissions every semester. But it’s fair, since they’d obviously be biased towards each other’s if they knew which was theirs.
“I wanted to do it this week, but I couldn’t get them back in time from our apparently too-busy-to-finish-in-one-week volunteer reviewer,” she explains with an eye-roll.
“Really? I mean, I know it’s not their job or anything, but there weren’t that many to read through, were there?” Magnus wonders who could be so busy they can’t set aside an hour or two to read through some poems after an entire week.
“Yeah, well, I gave them to my girlfriend’s brother so I can’t exactly be rude about rushing him--”
Magnus drops the chair he’s carrying, paying it absolutely no attention when it tips sideways onto the floor. His eyes are wide and he’s certain he isn’t breathing. In fact, he can’t remember what air is as his entire brain seems to short-circuit because Clary is dating Isabelle Lightwood.
“What? He’s finishing them now, so don’t worry! They’ll be done by next week.” Clary’s trying to make him feel better, as if his reaction is to the news that they’re still being worked on, and not over who is working on them.
“Clary - and I cannot stress how important this is - which of Izzy’s brothers did you give them to?”
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you know the Lightwoods, too. Why does it matt--”
“CLARY, PLEASE.” Magus is pleading now, and he feels about five seconds away from throwing up. He and Clary aren’t very close outside of the club, and she and Isabelle just started dating a few weeks ago, so of course he doesn’t expect her to remember that he’s friends with them, too. He doesn’t blame her, he isn’t upset with her, he’s just upset.
“Are you alright?”
“CLARY.”
“Oh my god, alright already! Alec volunteered to read through them when he overheard me complaining to Izzy about the new rule, but I don’t see what the big deal is-”
Magnus takes several steps backwards to lean against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in frustration. No no no no no no no, he thinks, and doesn’t realize he’s also saying the word over and over again out loud, too, until Clary gives him a look like she fears for his general sanity. She might not be too far off after tonight, if he can ever show his face on campus again for her to notice.
“Magnus, what’s wrong?” Clary keeps her distance, eyeing him carefully during this burst of erratic behavior.
“I have to go.” Instead of answering the question he turns and leaves, pausing only a moment to grab his messenger bag off the floor.
“Magnus?!” Clary calls after him, but he doesn’t stop or turn around.
The walk to Izzy’s apartment isn’t far from the classroom he’s at, but every step seems to drag on for a lifetime, even as he speeds his pace up to something not quite a run, but pretty damn close. Paying little mind to the people around him he bumps into the shoulders of more than one student while he punches a number into his phone and brings it to his ear.
It rings, and rings, and goes to Alec’s voicemail. He sends a text (‘Hey. This is going to sound strange but if you haven’t read the Literary Magazine submissions yet could you wait, and call me first? It’s important.’) but it stays unread and unanswered. Of course it can’t be that easy.
Okay, that’s fine. He can try a back-up plan. A few seconds later another number is dialed and ringing, and this time an eager, “Hey!” greets him through the phone.
“Isabelle, darling, please tell me you’re at home.” He tries to keep his voice even but there’s a clear edge to it, an underlying panic. Izzy being home to try and stop her brother before he gets to Magnus’ submissions is his last hope.
“No, I have class late on Thursdays, remember? Why?”
Magnus groans, face dropping after the moment of hope he mistakenly felt after she picked up.
“Damn. Right, well. I’m going to your apartment to try and stop Alec from reading about half a dozen poems I wrote about him, so if you never see me again it’s because this went about as mortifyingly as I’m anticipating, I’ll have to transfer schools so I never have to face him again, and it was really nice knowing you.”
“Ma-” Izzy barely starts to say his name when he hangs up on her, much the same way he walked out on her girlfriend only minutes before.
He doesn’t want to go to their apartment because if he does, and Alec already read the poems, he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s going to do. But he has to risk it on the off chance that luck is on his side and maybe Alec just told Clary he was getting around to them now, but he was really pushing them off again. Please, he silently pleads with the universe, be on my side this once.
It only takes ten minutes for him to reach the apartment, but another 4 of pacing the hallway outside the door before he finally knocks.
There’s the sound of shuffling behind the door, soft footsteps that grow louder before a lock clicks and the door swings open.
“Oh, hey Magnus!” Alec’s clearly surprised to see him.
“Why do you even own a phone if you never have it with you, Alexander,” Magnus tries to joke, but he’s too nervous and it shows.
“Oh, sorry,” Alec looks a little sheepish. “Probably left it in my room. Uh, if you’re looking for Izzy she won’t be back from campus until late, it’s Thursday.” Alec points out. It occurs to him that this is the first time the two of them are actually alone, without Izzy or Jace or another group of friends along to go out or watch movies with. His heartbeat picks up speed at the realization, even if this is far from how he imagined finally getting some alone time with Alexander.
“I know. I was actually hoping to talk to you, if that’s alright. You didn’t happen to--”
But Magnus pauses when Alec shifts in an obvious attempt to block Magnus’ view of the living room. Shifting just enough (because Alec is tall and imposing when he needs to be, but he isn’t big enough to block the entire doorway) Magnus glances past Alec to the table that’s in his line of sight, and sees what Alec is trying so obviously to block.
He’s too late. The table is covered with papers and a familiar envelope with Magnus’ name on it sits open at the top.
Alec knows. He read the poems and he knows and there’s nothing Magnus can do to take that back. He’s ruined everything - the dynamic they all had when they hung out together, any chance he had of maybe flirting with Alec properly and asking him out one day - now he just looks crazy, like he does nothing but stare at Alec and those gorgeous hazel eyes and soft smile and those little crinkles around his eyes when he laughs that just beg to be admired in poetry.
Which, to be fair, isn’t entirely off-base. He does spend a lot of time sneaking glances Alec’s way. It just isn’t something he planned on exposing yet. It isn’t the right time, and now it never will be.
“--you know what, nevermind. You’re right, I was here for Izzy but I totally forgot about her class, so I’ll just… go. Yeah, I have to go. Sorry.”
Magnus turns around and takes several steps down the hallway when he feels Alec’s hand on his shoulder.
“Wait.”
It’s a simple request and yet somehow actually stopping instead of taking off in a sprint down the hallway is the most difficult thing Magnus has done in recent memory.
“Magnus, I-” Alec starts, but stops again.
Magnus takes a deep, steadying breath before forcing himself to turn around. “It’s alright, you don’t have to say it. I know you only hung around with me because I was friends with your sister. It’s cool, really.” Giving his best, fake-confident ‘I’m fine, really’ smile.
“That isn’t what I was going to say.” Alec frowns.
“No, of course it isn’t. You’re too nice to actually say it,” Magnus shakes his head. He can’t do this, not here, not now. He can’t stand there and listen to Alec let him down easy until he wants the ground to swallow him whole. They were just starting to become better friends and now he ruined even that, and he’ll never forgive himself for it. “I’m sorry. I can’t-”
“Will you come inside for one minute? I want to show you something.” Alec looks nervous. Why would Alec be nervous? “Please?” When Alec repeats the request, practically begging this time, Magnus knows he can’t say no to that look.
“Alright.” It’s a reluctant agreement but he finds himself following Alec back into the apartment. When the door shuts behind him it leaves Magnus feeling strangely claustrophobic.
“Just… wait here. Don’t leave.” Alec instructs before disappearing down the short hallway that leads to his room. Magnus can’t help but wander over to the table, picking up his poem from the top of the pile and glancing over some of the words he wrote of a trip they took with Izzy and Cat and a few other friends to hike and picnic a month ago.
‘We watch the sunset from the mountain top
Hand-crafted by deities, perfected over centuries
To be mesmerizing
To be awe-inspiring
But nothing in heaven or on earth could compare
To the enchantment I feel
Watching hues of green and chestnut and gold
Light up like fireworks when he laughs’
It was a perfect day. A perfect memory. Why did he have to go and ruin it?
When Alec comes back Magnus drops the paper back onto the table like it burns to the touch.
“Seriously, Alec, I’m sorry… if I thought for a second Clary was going to give these to you I never would’ve-”
“Listen, Magnus, I know words are your thing and all, but if you could just stop talking and listen for five seconds.”
Magnus winces at Alec’s exasperated tone, attention finally drawn to the paper Alec holds out. It’s covered in Alec’s handwriting from top to bottom.
“What’s this?” Magnus asks, taking it when Alec doesn’t reply right away, instead just holding the paper out stubbornly in front of him.
“It was meant to be anonymous, too. But since I read yours it’s only right that you get to read mine.”
Magnus looks from Alec down to the paper in his hands, and begins to read. It isn’t a poem, more an uninterrupted stream of consciousness. The prose takes the form of Alec observing someone in the fading light of the sun’s last rays. Of a moment on a mountaintop, with wind-blown hair and friends and wine… and about how Alec wished it was just the two of them instead of a group outing, instead of his sister sitting between them on the blanket they shared.
Magnus has to read it a second time to be certain before allowing himself to speak.
“...you wrote about me?” Magnus asks, dumbfounded.
“I know it’s probably awful, I tried the whole poetry thing but it was total garbage so I just sort of rambled instead, but… that isn’t the point. You’re asking if it’s about you, and yeah. It is.” Alec smiles, not the big kind that give him those explosive laugh crinkles but a small, reserved twitch of his lips that’s barely noticeable unless you’re looking for it.
And of course Magnus is looking.
“I thought there were some signs, but then I wondered if you were just being nice to me because I was Izzy’s brother,” Alec admits. “So I figured if I sent this in, and it wasn’t just me…” he shrugs. That’s clearly as far as he got with his plan, but it’s more than enough.
“It isn’t just you.” Magnus confirms, smiling for the first time since Clary told him about Alec.
“So now what?” Alec prompts.
Magnus considers for a moment before the perfect idea comes to mind.
“I’m free Saturday for another hike. You drive, I’ll pack the picnic?” And then, just in case he isn’t clear enough, adds, “Just us this time?”
Alec’s entire face brightens at the idea. “Sounds perfect.”
...maybe the universe wasn’t as out to get him as Magnus first thought.
“If any of you try shit today, I will make all of you smash eggs on your heads and take blockers for the rest of my life so you can’t get revenge,” he mutters under his breath as he approaches the vegetables. It’s an empty threat and they all know it, but he wants it to hang in the air anyway. He’s been known to scare people unintentionally in the past, and this is very, very purposeful.
Something wonderful from Romaine Calm by @magnusbicon.
Hello all! As our beloved show is coming back (or may even be back by the time you read this!) we are now opening up invitations to the Shadowhunters 18+ Chat! This is a fun and welcoming space for older fans of Shadowhunters to gather to discuss the show, the fandom, and everything else. Fans of the book series are welcome to apply as well, but the primary focus is on the FreeForm original show Shadowhunters. We are a vibrant group of fans, many of us content creators, who value having a place to chat with others in the fandom who are close to us in terms of age and experience. This group is open to everyone, provided they love Shadowhunters and eighteen or older! We have a few rules and requirements, but other than that, we are a laidback group of people who are hoping to open up our chat and expand our circle now that Shadowhunters is back for a little while! Feel free to come and scream, cry, laugh, and chat with us about the upcoming episodes of Shadowhunters.
The lovely head admin of the Shadohuwnters 18+ Chat is Mere ( @merelore), and the wonderful mods are Elle (@bytheangell), Megan @magnusbicon, and I (Rhi/@magicmagnus). If you have any questions, feel free to send a message to any of us, and if you’re interested in joining, please fill out this quick and easy application here: https://goo.gl/forms/Kr0i1kFzfWfRxARB2
Feel free to reblog to spread the word! We’re excited to meet you.
"You shot me," Alec gasps out, fingers pressing into his abdomen as he lets out a groan of disbelief. Magnus rolls his eyes, not taking his eyes off of the tv screen as his boyfriend dramatically slumps sideways on the couch. "You already respawned."
so dramatic, so lack of context saknjkdjkas
send me a 3 sentence fic based on my url and/or tumblr
