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axelsagewrites · 6 years

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Magnus Bane*Foster Kid Pt4

Trigger Warning - This contains racist and homophobic comments. It also talks about abuse.

None of these things are okay. I don't stand behind any of the comments in the chapter but they're needed for the story.

Also, the address in the story is completely made up so who knows, maybe I guessed where you live.

Magnus X Platonic!Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Magnus X Platonic reader —- Mentions of Malec

“For the record, this will be incredibly boring,” Magnus warned me as we walked up the steps to the institute.

“Duly noted,” I say but my eyes are too busy wandering the place to care. It's just some old cathedral. That doesn’t mean Magnus turned down his outfit. If anything it’s turned up to annoy the shadowhunters. A shiny blue shirt with only a few buttons done up, white ripped jeans, and covered in jewels isn’t really a business look. Unless your Magnus.

Since I’ve been living in my original outfit, PE kit, and one of Magnus shirts for the past few days I don’t look as put together like him. Just some black leggings and a white shirt that one of Magnus’s ‘friends’ had left. Luckily it’s not stained and my size. “Well if your taking notes remind me to get your clothes. Not that I don’t appreciate a…simplistic look, but I know you can look even more…fabulous?” he tried.

I shook my head “I look a mess. Don’t lie.”

“You said it not me,” Magnus said before stopping, “Just wait. They come to us,” I nodded and double checked the bag Magnus gave me “Don’t talk unless you need to, stick by my side, and don’t touch anything with runes on it.”

“Cool,” I said. The bag he gave me was black, not helping my ‘simplistic’ look, and had a notebook, pen, and a bottle of water in it. Well and glitter. “Can’t you use magic to take notes,”

“Probably,” he shrugged.

Before he could reply some people dressed in all black walked out of the cathedral. “Who is this?” They asked.

“Hello to you too,” Magnus rolled his eyes. They glared in response, “This is my assistant,”

“No one said you could bring an assistant,” The woman crossed her arms, her eyes scanning over me.

“No one said I couldn’t,” he countered. “And I do believe you asked for my help since you were incapable of doing it yourself,”

“I wouldn’t say incapable,” she scoffed. I really get a bad feeling off her.

Magnus smiled “Well in that case my services aren’t needed,” He turned to walk away.

“I suppose we need your help,” she forced out. “We will let this assistant business slide for once. Follow me,”

The lady led us in the cathedral. I hid my shock as we discovered the cathedral wasn’t run down but in fact filled with tech and antiques. I mouth damn to Magnus who just winked at me.

Honestly, I have no clue what's being said. I’m not even going to try to make sense of it. Luckily schools the same so I still know how to take notes.

I flick to the next page of the notebook to start writing about some demon thing I can’t even spell when I hear an annoyed sigh “Does she really need to take all this down?” An older man asked, cutting Magnus off mid-sentence.

Magnus glared “My assistant is just doing her job. Like I and everyone else in this room is trying to do.”

The shadowhunter scoffed “Well I believe you're very familiar with the demon so why doesn’t she go get coffee while we talk about him, ”Magnus' eyes flickered to me, we shared a nervous look, “What type of assistant can’t make coffee?”

Magnus turned to the man, Alric I think, “It’s the fact you are telling my assistant what to do. If you wanted coffee all you had to do is ask. Would you mind?” Magnus turned to me.

“I don’t know where the kitchen is,” I whispered.

“Up the corridor to the left, 5th door on the right,” I jump when Maryse speaks. “And get me one too,”

Damn runes. I curse in my head. “Anyone else?” I ask without thinking. I’m used to be kicked around anyway. Whenever I got their coffee wrong before they’d spill it down my legs. I need to see if Magnus magic could heal it one day.

Turns out the notebook was more useful to write down the coffee orders. Magnus gives me a supportI’ve to look before I leave the room.

When I walk into the kitchen I freeze. Theirs already 4 teens in there. “(Y/N)?” Alec says, snapping me from my fear.

“Uh yeah,” I mutter, not knowing what to do.

“Is Magnus here?” I nod weakly. “Okay. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve to get coffee,” I don’t like new people, especially when it’s 4 strangers with the capability to kill me or lock me in the silent city. Whatever that is.

He nods and moves, revealing the coffee maker. I walk over and look around for everything. Alec opens a cupboard revealing the mugs. “Thanks,” I mutter.

I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I grab the mugs. “Who are you?” One of the girls asks. I glance at her to see it’s the one that looks like Alec. His sister I assume.

“Magnus assistant,” I try to cut the conversation short.

The girl shrugs and the rest of them return to there conversation. “Do I know you?” I freeze yet again.

I turn to see it was the other girl, a short ginger wearing an oddly colorful top, who spoke. I shrugged in response.

As I loaded the cups onto a tray I could feel her gaze on me “Hey, you went to my school! You’re that kid who always sat alone…” she trailed off when she realized.

“Yeah well. Yeah,” I don’t know how to respond! “Nice to see you I guess,” I pick up the tray and go to leave. Alec opened the door for me and I nodded as a thank you.

“Wait, if you went to her school, that means you’re a mundane?” The blonde said.

All 4 looked at me, I looked at them, “Um not exactly…gotta go,” I rushed out the kitchen.

I rushed back into the room and the shadowhunters looked at me for a second before ignoring my presence again. Handing out the coffee’s, I returned to my notes, visibly shaken. Only Magnus seemed to notice.

The meeting dragged but eventually we were free to go. Magnus said he’d do something or make some potion. I dunno since I was zoning out and thinking about school again. God, I hope I never have to go back.

Magnus let us stop at a café to grab lunch. “Order anything you like,” he told me as he notices my eyes scan the prices first.

Still, I chose the cheapest thing on the menu. Magnus looked discouraged but said nothing. As we ate he asked “Did something happen at the institute? I’m surprised you didn’t spill coffee on anyone.”

I shrugged and looked down, “Nah. Just bumped into some rude shadow hunter,”

“They're not the kindest breed,” he hummed, “Hot but mean,” he shook his head and took another drink of his, for once, non-alcoholic drink, “So when are we going to see your foster family?”

Swallowing my drink hard, I glared at the table “Family is a strong word. And I’d hoped never,”

“What about your clothes? School stuff? Stuff stuff? Surely there something you want back?”

I sighed and began playing with my food. “Dunno,” I shrugged. “I’m normally packed pretty light. Plus I’d be surprised if they didn’t chuck it already,”

“We’re going,” My head snapped up in protest, “No ifs and or buts. You’re going to get your stuff and I’m going to check out my competition. I’m sure I’m a much better non-family roommate,”

“Magnus, you’re the closest thing to family I’ve had since my parents,” I confessed.

He frowned slightly, “Darling you’ve known me maybe a week,”

I shrugged “Didn’t say I was a happy story did I,”

Unfortunately, unlike everyone else in my life, he kept to his word. I couldn’t even bring myself to knock on the door. Magnus sighed and did it himself. He was some sort of magic to cloak him from mundanes apparently. Honestly, I don’t know anymore.

The door opened and the plain look on my foster mother's face was replaced with disgust, “You’re back,”

“I just want my stuff,” I mumbled, looking at the ground.

“Look at me when you speak,” she snapped. I snapped back into her mold, shoulders back, straight posture, no personality or emotion to be seen, “Better but still awful. You have 5 minutes then I’m calling the police. And don’t even think about touching anything,” She stormed away.

I let out a breath of relief before taking a step into the house. It wasn’t an unhappy looking house with a creepy atmosphere and children's bones. The most disturbing part was it looked like a normal suburban house.

Magnus followed behind me as I darted up the left side of the stairs, sticking to their instructions. When I got to the top hall I grabbed the stool and reached up to open the attic. Magnus looked confused as he saw me bring the ladders down.

“I thought that was your room?” he pointed to the white painted door with a cheap amusement park photo with me and my foster parents on it. All 3 of us had smiles on our faces.

Not turning to look at him, I said “So does my social worker,” before beginning my climb into my room. If you can call it that.

Boxes filled the attic. They were filled with all your usual stuff, old photo albums, junk you forgot about, their biological kid's stuff. My small corner with a mattress and old chest of drawers fell into the junk you forgot category.

Magnus scrunched his nose up when he saw my corner/bedroom. “It’s not much,” I said “But it’s a step above Harry’s cupboard,” I tried to joke.

“Is it?”

I sighed but got to work. The chest of drawers was an old piece of furniture they let me use. Inside was my other 2 pairs of jeans, 4 tops, underwear for a week, and a few other things. Magnus summoned a plastic bag for my stuff. The clothes took a bag up.

The next bag was a little more personal. A couple books, a small nail polish set I got when I first moved in, a cd I got as an apology from my last family after they kicked me out, a few old notebooks/diaries/sketchbooks I had acquired.

The last bag was barely half full as I put my spare trainers and an old teddy I’d managed to hang onto in it. I held the old bear in my hand. The once light pink bear was now a dull grey, it’s button eyes had been reattached a few times, and there was a bit of muck on it. “I know it looks like junk,” I told Magnus “But Misty’s been with me since, that night,”

He nodded as I put her in the bag. “Is that everything?”

“Mostly,” I shrug “Everything else was in my school bag. There is one thing though,” I said. Quickly I moved the bags off the mattress and lifted it up. I fished around under the bed till my hand clasped around a small, cold, metal object.

I pulled it out and went to stuff it in my pocket to hide it, “What is that?” Magnus asked.

“Something more personal than Misty,” he nodded, not pressing any further, “We should go. We've almost been here 5 minutes,”

“You really are terrified of them,” he whispered.

I didn’t look at him but nodded as I grabbed the bags and rushed to the ladders. As I began the descent down the ladders I noticed the ground get closer till “Ow!” I whined as I hit the floor with a thud.

“Did you think I was kidding when I said 5 minutes?” She crouched in front of me.

“No ma’am,” I rushed to my feet. She slapped me “No ma’am,” I spoke up. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You realize how lucky you are?” She yelled “You ungrateful brat! People like you wish-“

“That’s enough,” Magnus jumped down from the attic with the elegance that only a cat could have “Do you realize how lucky you are that I don’t bitch slap you into next week?”

“Excuse you! Who are you?”

“Her social worker,” He smirked. I cocked an eyebrow but held back a laugh as her face drained of color. Kinda like how she drains my soul, “Exactly. How do you think the police will feel?”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement?” she purred, leaning onto Magnus.

He looked beyond disgusted, “I think I just vomited in my mouth,”

She recoiled “You're not exactly a ten either! With your chink eyes and gay face!”

Magnus recoiled, eyes filled with fury. Without thinking about it I lunged at her. We began wrestling on the ground, Magnus moving to block the stairs so we didn’t, you know, die. Eventually, I managed to get on top of her, pinning her down.

Her makeup was smudged, she was panting, a bruise was already forming on her forehead and nose, and she just looked pathetic. “Wait till the police get here,” she panted.

I couldn’t help but let out a half-hearted laugh “Wow. What is it you always said to me? Oh yeah, the door hit you, didn’t it?” I got off of her but she only scrambled away from me, “Fuck you Debbie,” Was all I said before grabbing my bags and walking down the stairs. She just looked at me but said nothing.

Magnus and I left the house silently and began walking down the street “I’m so sorry for her behavior,” I told him.

“It’s not your fault,” He shook his head, “I’m used to it by now. I was alI’ve when it was a lot worse,”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” His head hung low, “And it is my fault. It’s my fault I didn’t hit her harder,”

He laughed a little “I just wish I could get revenge without breaking any accords,”

I froze at his words, “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Wha-“

“Give!” I told him. He fished it out his pockets and I handed him my bags. I punched in 911 and told them “103, crescent drive, Belhaven, Brooklyn. The cupboard under the stairs in a green bag labeled 2013, under the photo album. You might wanna get their quick. Her husbands got a temper and an unlicensed gun and I’m pretty sure she’s trying to flee that house soon,”

Before the dispatcher spoke I hung up, handing Magnus back the phone. “What in the hell did you do? What in the hell did they do?” he asked as I started walking again.

I looked at him “They exploited the foster system, they're not exactly stand up people. Besides, how do you think two low paying corporate people pay bills. It’s not fake snow in the bags,”

Magnus, somewhat understandable concerned, demanded I tell him everything. That night I did. He didn’t even have time to start his work for the shadowhunters. Instead, he listened as I told him about all 9 different foster families and 3 different homes id been in.

I told him about my main abusers and skimmed over the normal ones. He found out everything and said he did have a potion to heal my scars.

He also asked about the thing under the bed. I took it out of my back pocket with a sigh “It’s a locket.” I turned it over in my hand, looking at the swirls imprinted on the golden heart locket, “When my parents died I was immediately put in the system. I only was allowed to pack one bag. Misty, a few pairs of clothes, a couple other toys that got stolen. This had been on my parent's dresser. They said I couldn’t take anything that wasn’t mine but I grabbed it when they weren’t looking.” I held it up by its chain and let it drop into my hand “It’s all I have left of them. Unless you count Misty.”

Instead of hiding it or shoving it in a pocket like I normally do I handed it to Magnus. He looked at me, asking permission to open it and inspect it further. I nodded.

He easily opened the locket and looked at the tiny photos. A small black and white photo of my mum and dad on one side, on the other, was some family photo with people I didn’t recognize. A lock of black hair was in the locket as well.

Magnus face contorted. He closed the locket and flipped it over, looking at the design. “What did you say your last name was?”

“(Y/L/N),” I said, brows scrunched together “Why?”

He shook his head “Then why does your families locket have an L on it?” He opened the locket again and summoned an object with magic. “An enchanted monocle,” he told me as he held the glass to his eye. “Well looks like we don’t need those potions anymore,” he looked up at me and said “You’re a lightwood,”

#shadow #shadowhunters #shadowhunter cast #shadowworld #shadowhunter imagine #shadowhunter preference #Magnus Bane #MagnusBane #magnus x reader #magnus bane imagine #magnus bane x reader #shadowhunters imagine #tmi imagine #tmi #the mortal instruments #platonic magnus

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ocbungou · 6 years

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Thank you, Fiddles, for submitting your application! Two mods have gone over it and accepted it for approval into the ring. Please have your blog ready by November 21st.

COUNTRY: APH SPain

NAME: Antonio Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí Fernández y Carriedo. Prefers to just go by Toni or Tonio.

PRONOUNS: He/him

AGE: 25

ALIGNMENT: The Guild

APPEARANCE: Antonio is probably the poster child for a classic Andalusian Spaniard – tanned skin, curly hair, clear-cut features and a nice smile, complete with dimples. His frame is lean and well-muscled, but not too well-muscled; a bit like a swimmer if it had to be compared to anything, long legs and a fantastic pair of glutes. His eyes are green, not a particularly striking color, but definitely attractive on his face. Occasionally he’ll grow a bit of stubble if he gets too lazy to shave, which isn’t often. The hard-partying lifestyle has aged him up a bit though, and he looks more late twenties, early thirties than 25 – his looks aren’t helped by the fact that he’s almost constantly hungover.

PERSONALITY: Antonio is an outwardly cheery and charismatic person, but you don’t have to look very far to see the rotten parts of that apple; while not a liar, per se, Antonio isn’t afraid of withholding pertinent information to get what he wants, and a good 99% of what he does only benefits himself in some way. He’s hot-tempered, selfish, and slightly unreliable – but even despite all of this, people seem to find him inexplicably charming at first glance. It’s probably the dimples.

Antonio is a very “my pace, my way person,” and will do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to do it; this has lead to more conflicts than he’d like to bother to count, and a bit of a problem with authority, but he’s willing to set aside his independent spirit (with a bit of grumbling) if it keeps him rolling in cash and in the lap of luxury – which, coincidentally, is his primary motive for pretty much everything he’s ever done. He has a bit of an obsession with James Bond movies, to the surprise of absolutely no one at all, and often prefers to spend his days re-watching every single one of them when he’s not throwing heckin’ wild parties and integrating himself with the rich and famous.

Strengths:

Oddly considerate sometimes – other times, just does whatever the fuck he wants

Charismatic

Free-spirited, independent thinker who don’t need no authority figures

Weaknesses:

Manipulative

Self-serving

Hot-blooded

ABILITY:

Miguel de Cervantes – Don Quixote

“Tilting at Windmills”

The definition of tilting at windmills is “to attack imaginary enemies,” which is fitting. Antonio’s power allows him to, by maintaining some kind of physical contact with a person or one of their belongings, cause them to hallucinate relatively mundane objects as horrific monsters. A pen could be a millipede with teeth for legs, a relatively large potted plant could be a horse with weird eyes, and a store mannequin would stay a store mannequin because those things are creepy as-is. The horrors come in all shapes and sizes – sometimes they take the form of phobias taken monstrous shape, other times they become things rooted in someone’s deepest insecurities. Think Silent Hill, but significantly less physically dangerous.

The drawbacks are that his powers require a tether – either the person themselves, or an object associated with them, like a piece of jewelry they wear often. They’re also incapable of being used on more than one person, due to both the nature of personal tethers, and the migraines that result from overusing his ability. He also experiences his own hallucinations as his victims are experiencing them, leading to some interesting results – he’s learned to not be particularly disturbed by anything anymore. Except Viktor.

BACKGROUND: Born in a small down in Churriana, Málaga named Alhuarín el Grande, there wasn’t much to do for a young boy of Toni’s age besides visit the many historical sites the town had to offer; but, being Toni, he never had much of an interest in history if it didn’t involve old action movies. Naturally energetic and prone to being destructive when bored, Antonio’s parents tried desperately to enroll him in some kind of constructive activity – being fans of art, they would have much preferred their son to take up something like acting, but Antonio was as much a fan of artistic pursuits as he was academia, preferring soccer and baseball to museums and paintings.

Sports worked as an outlet, for a time, until puberty when he discovered two things: he really hated team sports, he had the oddest ability to make people see things that weren’t there, and that was much more interesting than sitting the bench at a soccer tournament. Over time, and after several years of honing his abilities on his poor classmates and teachers, who were all convinced their high school was haunted by demons and had the place blessed more than once, Antonio dropped sports and academics altogether, preferring to (unsuccessfully at first) live the lifestyle of the rich and famous he’d seen so often in movies, and using his ability to achieve that. His parents were not pleased. His peers, however, managed to figure out that once Antonio left the school, so did the odd happenings and hallucinations.

Convinced Antonio was some kind of possessed, the residents of Alhuarín el Grande “persuaded” Toni pack his bags and take his “demons” with him, through some not-so-very-nice means that resulted in several hundred euros worth of damages to his parents’ house; and, much as they annoyed him with being sensible human beings who found his behavior frankly disturbing, they were still his parents. He’d rather not put them through more grief than he already had. So, at some point, Antonio slipped out of Churriana and Spain entirely (someone, somewhere, probably muttered “finally” under their breath when they’d heard the news the Fernández boy had skipped town) and ended up in Port City, with no cash, no prospects, and no idea where to start. Thankfully (or maybe not) he’d heard of The Guild and the money they could afford to shell out for his expensive hobbies. The rest is history, and can also be conveniently summed up as “poor Roderich.”

SAMPLE WRITING:

Parties were never Dmitri’s thing, exactly. They involved people, which Dmitri preferred to avoid at all costs despite being required to attend some sort of social function at least once a month.

Informal parties were another beast altogether, however, and Dmitri figured that he hadn’t actually attended a friendly get-together like this since the late 1800s at least – but his friendship with their mutual host forced him to half-heartedly participate, if only so he could hang back near the table where the food and drinks were set up so he could get well and truly sloshed off of cheap vodka and Fireball. Although, to be fair, he felt far more at home in a room full of well dressed strangers who expected him to be cool and aloof, rather than a close-knit group of friends who thought he was – at best – quiet and kind of a jerk.

Suffice to say, he was already half-way through his fifth (maybe?) glass of whiskey by the time he stumbled his way out onto the front porch for a smoke, leaning against the railing for support. At least out here the cool night hair would help him achieve some vague sense of sobriety, away from the loud music, cramped space, and boozy people. And hopefully the door would stay firmly shut behind him, and he could enjoy his newfound solitude without someone interrupting it and forcing him to either interact with them, or sit there in awkward silence until he was chased back inside.

#accepted #aph spain

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