#shadowhunters oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

x-ceirios-x · 2 months

Text

warlocks

magnus arrives home from the fight on valentine's ship to unexpected guests.

cw: alcohol consumption

Magnus sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment, thinking he needed a very strong drink and a several-day-long nap. The shadow world was safe, for now, after Clary’s new-found rune powers destroyed Valentine’s ship. However, his magic was severely depleted after spending so much time holding back the demonic wards. It was all he could do to stay awake in Luke’s truck and keep that above water. Until Alec came, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. He borrowed his strength when he offered, though, and it helped him get back to shore safely. Both of them.

When he walked into the living room, he was both shocked and confused to see the lights on. He could have sworn he turned everything off before he left—no, he knew that was true. As he walked through the living room, he noticed the smooth jazz coming from seemingly nowhere and quiet chatter from the kitchen. He armed himself with a small ball of magic, though he knew he wasn’t up for a fight right now. Slowly and silently, he stalked into the kitchen–he turned the corner quickly, arm raised and prepared to attack whoever it was.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when he walked into his kitchen, but it certainly wasn’t two warlocks, one sitting on the stools to his island counter and the other sitting on the counter itself, swinging her feet. He lowered his arm and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Eleanor,” he said with a sigh.

“Magnus!” The girl slid off of the counter and ran to him, embracing him quickly and tightly. Shock wearing off, he relaxed into her arms, happy to see an old friend even if it was in strange circumstances like this. He leaned his head against hers for a moment, enjoying the familiarity after the day he’d had.

She pulled away just as abruptly as she’d embraced him. “Oh, where have you been?” she asked, hands running over his face quickly, inspecting him for injuries. He assumed he didn’t look as extravagant as he did usually when he had company. “You’re not hurt, are you? You look pale, would you like some tea?”

“Eleanor.” The other warlock spoke this time—Eleanor’s twin brother, Desmin. He placed his glass on the counter next to him and shot her a half-hearted glare. “You're smothering him.”

She perked up, processing his words for a moment, then pulled her hands away from him. “Sorry, dear,” she said with a cheery smile, spinning on her heel. She reached under the island, where he kept his alcohol, and pulled out two glasses filled with a shimmery, pink liquid. He liked her drinks when she made them by hand, not by magic, but he wasn’t one to complain. She was one hell of a bartender. “Cosmo?”

He nodded, eyes a little wide at the offer. “Please,” he said, taking a seat next to Desmin. He raised the glass in a small thank-you, then downed half of it. She chuckled and he saw a hint of a smile from Desmin as well, sipping his own drink. He hoped it wasn’t his good whiskey but knew better—both had expensive tastes.

She took a sip of her drink, then broke the silence. “We brought takeout, I hope you still like shrimp lo mein.”

He nodded and she slid a takeout box across the counter at him—after the night he had, the takeout sounded amazing. He wouldn’t have cooked if it would have saved his life, he was too tired. Despite not being up for company, he thought the twins being there was some strange kind of miracle. With them, came a little chaos, some alcohol, but a warm, familial feeling he could never pass up.

“We showed up around nine,” she explained as he ate. “I convinced Desmin to go out clubbing because I heard there was a neat little place called Pandemonium around here. Then you weren’t here, so we just decided to hang out until you got home. I got worried after you didn’t answer your phone.”

Magnus swallowed the bite of food he had in his mouth and gestured to Desmin with his chopsticks. “I think the strangest part of that is the fact you convinced Desmin to go clubbing.”

“I go clubbing,” he said. “I stand in the corner with my one drink of the night and watch people make fools of themselves. Very entertaining.”

She rolled her eyes. “God, Magnus, you should have seen him a few weeks ago. We took a trip to Prague and he met this fae—“

Desmin’s eyes flew wide open and his cheeks reddened. “You promised not to talk about Prague!”

“It’s Magnus!”

“I need to hear about this,” he said, moderately impressed that there was some story he was so embarrassed about he forbade Eleanor from talking about it.

She smirked. “I have never seen so many hickeys on this guy in my life—“

“Eleanor!”

They both broke out into laughter at his embarrassment. It was all out of love, of course, but he heard a few colorful, choice words under his breath. “I need another drink to deal with you two,” he said sarcastically, gesturing for Eleanor to hand him something. She pulled the bottle from under the counter and slid it to him, where he proceeded to pour several shots worth of his good whiskey. He must have noticed his shock and he shrugged. “We’ll pay you back for it. Always do.”

His eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t stop the smile on his face. “You’d better.”

Eleanor sat on his other side, picking a piece of shrimp from his dish and popping it into her mouth. He elbowed her arm for it. “My dinner!” he argued.

“I paid, let me have a little shrimp,” she said, settling next to him. “Where have you been all evening, though?”

He sighed. “It’s a very long, long story. I’d rather talk about that later.” She nodded in agreement, though he could tell she was still worried about him. He gave her an encouraging smile, slowly feeling the energy come back to him as he had something to eat. “Where have you two been? It’s been…what, thirty years?”

She shrugged, glancing past him to Desmin, then back. He noticed the little shimmers of purple in her eyes as she looked around—he always thought it was pretty. He’d never seen either of the twin’s warlock marks, but he assumed that was part of it. “A little bit everywhere. Rome for half the nineties, but we got bored of things there so we tried Barcelona for a little while, that was fun. Back to London in ‘89–“

“Back to London?” he asked. “I thought you said you’d never go back there after the whole…incident.”

Desmin scoffed. “That’s what I said. But no, she insisted on getting on West End.”

Magnus gasped. “That was you? I thought those pictures looked familiar!” he grinned at her. “You put on a hell of a glamor, dear. Who knew the great Allison Everett of West End was going to end up sitting in my living room.”

She gave a small, yet dramatic, bow from her seat and chuckled at his comment. “Let me say, those years of ballet training paid off. I played some good things, though. Maureen, in Rent, for one.”

He nodded. “I remember hearing about that. It sounds amazing.”

“I think if I had to hear her practice La Vie Bohème one more time, my ears would bleed,” Desmin muttered, receiving a slap on the shoulder for it.

“We were up in Flushing until a couple weeks ago. Heard through the grapevine that my favorite little warlock was the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” she said teasingly, pinching at his cheek and shoulder.

He laughed and swatted her hand away, rolling his eyes at her antics. “Alright mom,” he said sarcastically, though he noticed the way her smile softened. In short, Eleanor and Desmin were the closest thing he had to parents, though they were very good friends.

“She wanted to see you more so we decided to move a little closer. Got a nice place a few blocks away,” Desmin said. “When we’re done unpacking, you should come check the place out. Upper west side is pretty nice.”

“Look at you two being all fancy. Living the high life?”

Eleanor chuckled. “Exploiting a couple mundanes here and there, sure. Summoning demons, enchanting things, spells, whatever. And I got very good with investments in the past few years. I do all the money management so Desmin can work on his novel.”

“Still working on the same one?”

“Oh, no.” He shook his head, finding the question almost amusing. That one got published ages ago. I’ve got a pretty good running series. I just don’t do public appearances and no one seems to mind.”

Magnus nodded. That was very like Desmin—public wasn’t his thing anywhere. He preferred to keep to himself and hated speaking in front of large groups of people. It was something that couldn’t have made him and Eleanor more different; she loved to entertain and be the one in the spotlight, sometimes literally.

There were many things like that about them both; Desmin was cold, unmoved, a steady force that never wavered in his actions or motivations. Eleanor wore her heart on her sleeve and cared very deeply for the people she surrounded herself with. Neither were superficial by any means. He believed they were honest. However, he also had a suspicion they were much more complex under it all than they liked to let on. Eleanor always told him not to worry—they had each other, and that’s all that mattered. He wished they were a little more open with him, sometimes, but he understood. He didn’t have an exact age, but he knew they were old, much older than himself; when you spend so much time with one person, they become the only person you trust. He wished he had that level of companionship with someone.

He finished his dinner and pushed the plate away, turning towards Eleanor. “I hate to do this to you since you quite literally moved closer to see me, but I’m incredibly exhausted and in need of sleep.”

She shook her head with a smile. “I will take care of everything, don’t worry your head about it,” she said, taking his hand with both of hers and squeezing gently. “If you’re alright with it, we can crash here and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. Someone—“ she glanced at Desmin— “is pretending to be much less inebriated than he is. That’s why he’s so quiet.”

“Quit revealing my secrets,” Desmin grumbled, though he didn’t deny it.

“Of course. I told you before, you’re always welcome here.” Magnus stood and gave Desmin a polite nod, then Eleanor another quick hug. She kissed his cheek as he leaned in, squeezing him tight. When he pulled away, she huffed, blowing her bangs out of her face. “You know, I’ll never forgive you for getting taller than me.”

He laughed. “You’ve been on about that for three hundred years.”

“And I will continue to be on about it!”

Magnus rolled his eyes and returned to his room, changing into his pajamas. He looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting his face as he cleared away his makeup with magic. He looked a little better than he assumed he did when he got home—less sickly, at least. The color returned to his cheeks but his tiredness was catching up to him. He got comfortable in bed, about to turn off the lamp next to him when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said, sitting up.

Eleanor walked in, holding a mug in her hands. She handed it to him and sat on the edge of the bed, closing the door behind her with the wave of her hand. “I put a little spell on it to help you sleep,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’ll help protect you from bad dreams, too.” She was incredibly excited earlier—happy to see him, no doubt—but her expression changed. This was softer, more muted but vulnerable. He rarely saw her like this, but he certainly wouldn’t complain.

“What would I do without you?” he asked, mostly teasing. They both knew he’d made a good life for himself, but he owed a lot of it to the two of them. He struggled as a child and they helped him more than he could ever repay them for. Since then, they randomly appeared, never staying long—he’d noticed they never stayed long anywhere. It was one of the many mysteries of the Rige siblings he never cracked, and there were many. However, while they were here, he always felt more loved than he did at any other time in his life.

He drank a bit of the tea and laid down again, comfortable in quiet between them. She reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair, fingers scratching over his head. This was what she used to do when he was a young child, when they first found him—play with his hair soothingly, sitting with him until he fell asleep. Sometimes she’d sing or tell him a story, but she usually left the stories for Desmin.

“I’ve heard things around—gossip, mostly,” she said softly, fingers raking through his hair. His eyelids felt heavy, but he fought to keep them open as she spoke. “But things are changing. I know they are. I…most of the reason we came was to make sure you were okay,” she said, a combination of fear and happiness on her face. “I don’t know what happened tonight. But if you ever need anything, Magnus, Desmin and I are here.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said, voice half in a whisper as sleep slowly dragged him away. He fell asleep with a faint smile on his face, the last hung he remembered being her leaning in to place a small kiss on his forehead, then the sound of his bedroom door clicking closed.

There were many things about the twins he still didn’t understand, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. However, he knew that at any time in his life, whenever he needed something, they miraculously appeared and managed to fix it all. He only hoped that would be the case this time, though he had his suspicions things would be much more complicated in the coming weeks.

10 notes · View notes

x-ceirios-x · 1 month

Text

warlocks, part two

after months of back and forth, alec and magnus are finally together and at a place where their relationship isn't so awkward. magnus decides it's a great idea to introduce him to his oldest friends.

dw: alcohol consumption, mild cursing

It’ll be fun, Magnus had said. I met your whole family. You might as well meet my friends.

But it wasn’t fun, this was nerve wracking as hell. He and Magnus had only been officially dating for a week or so, and granted, he was right about meeting his parents several times now, but that didn’t make him feel any better about this.

Either way, he went without argument. It would make Magnus happy, and Isabelle insisted on dragging him out shopping to give him something nice to wear.

Alec knocked on the front door of Magnus’s apartment. Through the door, he heard muffled music , then someone squealed and Magnus yelled, both of which sounded like they were laughing at the same time. The door opened in front of him a moment later, revealing a rather good-looking guy. He wore a black button down shirt and similarly colored and neatly-pressed pair of slacks. He noticed his very dark hair and very gray-blue eyes—everything about him made him suddenly a little insecure.

He smiled slightly and stepped aside, allowing him to come inside. “You must be Alec,” he said in a smooth voice, with a slight accent he couldn’t quite place. Something European, he figured.

Alec shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the stand near the door. “I am,” he said, turning back to him.

The warlock stuck his hand out for him as he introduced himself, which he shook. “Desmin Rige,” he said with a slight smile. The guy was charming, too, which bothered him a little. Rowan described the feeling as ‘skeletons syndrome’—no one can be perfect, they have to have some skeletons in the closet somewhere. He wasn’t sure about this guy, he looked pretty perfect. “I apologize in advance for my sister. She’s…eccentric.”

Alec smirked. “More than Magnus?”

He gave him a challenging look that implied she was much, much worse, which would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so nervous.

He didn't have much of a chance to reply, though, because Magnus suddenly whisked into the foyer. Desmin gave him a little wave and walked off, but his attention was mostly on his boyfriend. “Alexander,” he said cheerfully, a smile spread across his face. He leaned down slightly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek—that was something new, the casual affection, but he didn’t mind it. Actually, he enjoyed it. “I have already asked these two to play nice tonight. Not for your sake, actually, but for mine.”

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

Magnus shook his head. “No, no, I wouldn’t. I’m just nervous because they have…stories from over the years.”

“I think that sounds entertaining.”

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “I’m desperately trying not to embarrass myself in front of you,” he admitted.

Alec smiled slightly and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “After everything it took to get here, nothing they say is going to change how I feel about you, okay?” he asked, looking up, into his eyes. “Promise.”

He watched Magnus visibly relax: his shoulders slumped forward slightly, no longer held taught by anxiety, and he smiled. “Thank you, Alec.”

A voice coming from the kitchen cut through the moment, catching both their attention. “Magnus, if you don’t get in here and introduce me to your Shadowhunter boytoy, I’m not bartending your next party!”

He turned and called, “coming!” He smiled at Alec, his hand still laced in his. “That’s a worse threat than you think. She may be a warlock, but she’s magic with alcohol.” With that, he led him into the kitchen, where Desmin was sitting at the island, talking to a red-haired woman he assumed was the one who called them.

When they walked through the door, her eyes focused on him. She had a very pretty, friendly face, dotted with freckles on the tops of her cheeks and nose. What put him off was her cold, blue eyes—she looked like she was trying to read into his soul. Desmin cleared his throat, and with some sort of silent communication, she knew what he meant and rolled her eyes. “He’s pretty, Magnus,” she said, her tone curt. She smiled and walked toward them both, extending her hand for him to shake. “Eleanor Rige. Lovely to meet you, my dear.”

He shook her hand without hesitancy, though he noticed how her smile didn’t reach her eyes. He saw the same look from Isabelle when she was flirting with people for information, not fun—she wasn’t happy to meet him, despite what she said. “Alec Lightwood—likewise,” he said. He noted the wide-eyed look Desmin shot him before he quickly turned away, finding the granite counter suddenly very interesting.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Lightwood, hm?” she asked, looking at Magnus expectantly. “Interesting.”

He looked at each of the three of them, then turned to Magnus. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Like a lightswitch, her demeanor changed. Rather than the borderline hostile attitude he witnessed when he walked in, she was peppy and energetic, a real smile clean on her face. “Not at all. I’m just familiar with the family—several generations back, of course.” She returned to her place on the other side of the island and pulled a few bottles from the cabinets underneath, then a few glasses from a different one across the kitchen. “Care for a drink?” she asked over her shoulder.

He looked at Magnus, who sighed deeply. “Sorry,” he muttered, taking a seat at the island.

He joined him, sitting between him and Desmin as Eleanor prepared drinks for everyone. He took whatever Magnus had, which was very pink and very fruity, with a slight shimmer to it that he didn’t know if it was magic or sparkles. It was fine; Jace would probably be laughing at him if he saw him drinking anything like that, but it wasn’t half bad.

Alec glanced at Desmin, who was paying attention less to the conversation and more to the pocket journal he was scratching something in. “What’s that?” he asked, and added quickly, “If you don't mind me asking.”

He put the pencil down and closed the book, wrapping the string around it. “Oh, nothing important. I do a lot of writing in my free time—when an idea hits, I jot it down so I can work on it later.”

Magnus smiled slightly. “Don’t be modest, Desmin—he’s got several published books that are hits in the mundane world. What’s your latest pen name?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Lionel Davis,” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes at him. “Not that many people know that, though.”

Alec thought for a moment when it suddenly clicked. He knew where he remembered that name from—Rowan had read them a few years ago. It was all they’d talk about for months. “Oh, the Remnant prophecy series, right? I think my friend read those.”

Magnus looked at him curiously. “Who?”

“Rowan.”

His eyes widened all of a sudden. “Why the hell was Rowan reading those?”

“Is it bad?”

Eleanor started laughing, holding the edge of the counter. Desmin’s cheeks turned a little red, he noticed, and he averted eye contact. Magnus was the only one willing to speak. “It’s…graphic.”

“And we don’t need to elaborate,” Desmin said, giving him a mortified but warning look.

Alec cracked a smile—he decided then he’d keep that to himself and not ask too many questions. And probably not read the books, considering he didn’t think Desmin would ever be able to look at him again.

Eleanor composed herself and turned toward him, looking much more relaxed than she had a few moments earlier. “Unrelated to any of that—” she gestured to Desmin, who still looked dejected— “but I hear there was trouble stirring in Idris? I haven’t been in a few hundred years—all I got was an SOS fire message from Magnus saying he needed a way out of a party immediately, which was strange knowing how much he likes to party.”

He looked at her strangely. “You weren’t there? I thought all the Downworlders in Brooklyn showed up for that battle.”

“Almost.” She smiled as she spoke, but the level of cheeriness put him off. “We prefer not to get involved in Clave affairs.”

“It wasn’t just a Clave issue, the entire population of Downworlders could have been wiped off the Earth—”

“If Valentine Morgenstern scared me, dear, you would have seen me. When you’re as old as I am, a prick with a god complex doesn’t do much for you. Been there, seen it.”

He gave Magnus a slightly wide-eyed look, though he cut the conversation in the direction of her original question to save face. “I sent that message when you were busy with your parents and I’d just finished talking with Rowan’s father. Which was single-handedly the most awkward conversation I’ve had in the last century, but at least that party had gin.”

“I don’t think either of these two know how to go to a party without a drink,” Desmin spoke up, muttering under his breath. He quickly hid the comment behind his own drink, looking at Eleanor out of the corner of his eye.

“Says you,” she said, looking at him in the way Isabelle very frequently looked at himself when he said something stupid. “The last time I brought you to a real party, back in Prague—”

He nearly spat out his drink and very quickly buried his face in his hands. “Do you not understand the phrase shut up about Prague?”

Magnus leaned against his shoulder and muttered, “They still won’t tell me what happened in Prague, don’t ask.”

The rest of the evening went on fine. Alec noticed that Eleanor backed off quite a bit from how she’d acted early in the evening, rather enjoying the evening of the four of them swapping stories. He learned a lot about how warlocks simply lived. As a Shadowhunter, he’d never really given it a lot of thought, other than when they had to get involved because the warlock was doing something illegal. But this wasn’t the case at all—Eleanor liked to dance, so much so that she’d ended up on West End several years ago. And Desmin, who he found to be very similar to himself in his mannerisms, was clever and even funny, sometimes. He liked to teach but had taken a break from the profession several years ago. Instead, he chose to start working on another book series that had to do with royalty, magic, fairies—different than the ones in their world—and romance that Eleanor remarked was much more PG than what he’d done in the past (to which she received a death glare).

They left after a few hours, deciding to head home before it got too late. Eleanor blamed it on her brother being an early bird, though behind her back he silently insisted it was her idea. Then it was just him and Magnus left in the apartment, slightly tipsy, sitting together on the couch more relaxed than he ever had been. So much pressure came off his shoulders when he kissed him in Idris, when he finally stood his ground and said he wasn’t willing to hide part of himself or the person he loved. If he was a man, if he was a Downworlder, it didn’t matter. Not to him, and not to anyone he cared about and cared about him.

He kept thinking, though. That night, at the party, he found himself in a conversation with Aline and her parabatai. Things had calmed between the Penhallows and Lightwoods since they realized Sebastian had blind-sighted all of them and Jia and Patrick had as much of an idea he was an intruder as his parents did. She was cheerful and dressed nicely, just as everyone else was. For one night, they could pretend devastation and grief didn’t exist and be happy it was over. He didn’t know Lian well, but had met him at the party they’d thrown when they first arrived in Idris—it all felt so long ago.

Aline had walked off to go get herself and Lian another drink, and he turned the conversation around. That was brave, what you did. Kissing the warlock, he’d said. When he corrected him and said his name was Magnus, he could tell it flustered him and it wasn’t what he intended. I just meant…I don’t know. It made me feel a little less alone. Like, maybe there’s hope for me out there, too, despite that. Someday.

He reassured him with a smile, there will be. And he’d followed his gaze to his friend, the bleached-blond boy with the ripped jeans at the party that even Alec thought was effortlessly suave and a little cute. He was talking with Isabelle, a smile on his face that he only recognized from the way Magnus looked at him recently—utterly enamored and lovestruck. Maybe his chance wouldn’t be with Tony, but if Alec was certain of anything, there was a new generation coming into power—theirs, that would start changing things.

“You’re quiet,” Magnus said, sitting up slightly. He ran his hand through his hair affectionately—unlike a few weeks ago, when he would have been terrified of such a tender gesture, he leaned into his touch, allowing him to wind the black strands through his fingers. “Did the twins scare you that much?”

He cracked a smile and shook his head when he pulled away. “No, not at all. It was… enlightening.”

“No, really. Eleanor is terrifying, you can admit it.”

They both chuckled, though Alec knew he wasn’t entirely kidding. He’d told him in preparation for the evening that the Rige twins were older than him and each was more powerful than him, though he didn’t know by how much. Let alone how strong they were together. They seemed to be good people, though.

“I’ll give you that.” He thought for a moment. “Can I tell you something, though?” Magnus hummed in response. “When were you going to tell me Desmin was a hotter version of me, or was I just supposed to figure that out myself?”

Magnus froze for a moment, staring at him incredulously, before he broke out into a fit of laughter. Alec laughed too—that was part of the point—though there was a bit of seriousness in his tone.

It took him several moments to calm down, but when he did, he wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s like…god, Alec, Desmin’s more like my dad than anything. That’s so weird to think about and I’d rather not do it again.”

He chuckled, though looked at him curiously. “You never told me that.”

He waved it off. “They found me when I was a child. Eleanor has always apologized and told me they would have raised me longer if they didn’t have other things getting in the way—what, they won’t tell me, but I learned to live with the secrecy. But they’re the closest thing I have to parents, in their own, weird way.”

Alec nodded as he spoke. “That’s sweet, actually. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like me. Thinks I’m not good enough for you.”

He scoffed. “If Eleanor didn’t like you, you would have been a toad on the floor in a matter of minutes. She thinks you’re fine, she just doesn’t like your family.”

“What did my family do to her?”

“A young woman, nearly a hundred years ago, named Anna, broke her heart. Desmin told me it was nasty and she doesn’t like to talk about it. She’s always been distrustful of the Nephilim, but that seemed to have solidified her prejudices.” Magnus turned toward him, his hand finding his like it was the most natural thing in the world. “She cares very deeply about people, though, especially those she lets into her very small circle. Eleanor is a giver in her heart—the day she asks you for something, you know you’ll have gained her trust.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?”

“Don’t break my heart—she’ll probably turn you into that toad I mentioned.”

Alec laughed softly. “I don’t plan on it.”

Magnus leaned into him and kissed him, gentle and slow, his hand never leaving his. Despite what he thought, this was the most natural thing in the world. Because after everything, things felt right with Magnus. It took a while for him to realize how much he meant to him, but all the little things he did solidified it in his mind. It felt right, more right than anything else he’d ever done in his life.

7 notes · View notes