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magnusbanewastaken · 2 years

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

CHARACTER STUDY / MOODBOARD

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 【ㅤ C A T S　】

Majestic creatures, cats truly were. In some parts of the world they were observed as divine creations and were treasured and groomed, sitting in the lap of luxury. He was no different.

Often draped in the finest silks and precious jewelries around his fingers, his hands, his arms, or his neck, Magnus enjoyed looking the part of royalty, drenched in opulence and the adulation of those he'd unsurprisingly catch the attention of. He had cat-like eyes, to captivate and entrance, catching anyone who meets his gaze with his charms and magical touch. And he moved ever so graceful and dignified, in his movements, and in the way he went about his life, like a cat effortlessly manoeuvring down a narrow ledge of a building as if he'd never fall.

Magnus was fierce as a cat in that way; big or small, cats do not easily succumb to fear in the face of danger or horrors the world throws at them. But when he does fall, he always lands on his feet—readily and steadily, he slinks back through the path worth nine lifetimes and beyond.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 【ㅤ G L I T T E R　】

Magnus was attracted to all the beauty and finery the world had to offer; fashionable and finely-woven clothes, coruscating gemstones, and shiny, precious silvers and golds. A sign of shallowness and superficiality to others, perhaps, but for all the centuries he had lived, there never seems to be a place for dullness and that kind of negativity in his life.

Naturally, the moment Magnus set his eyes upon the jar of sparkling substance on his dear old friend's desk, he was quick to be taken in by their simple yet fascinating appeal. As soon as he poured some of the glittering contents of the jar in his hand and saw the sight of its glimmering vibrancy against his brown skin, he had fallen in love with another potential show of superficiality. At that moment he could even imagine his entire body be stippled with a handful or two of those glittering grains and thought he would look beautiful.

He did not know then that it would become quite the integral part of his life in the years to come though he was sure his life was made the better for it. It was a tool meant for spectral creatures unseen by the naked eye be seen upon their touch, but for him it became a tool meant to physically reflect his already glittering personality.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 【ㅤ A C O R N S　】

In the language of flowers, acorns are said to bring good luck. Acorns are also associated to wisdom, potentiality, and immortality. For once such as Magnus, who had lived through centuries and every so often faced with the rollercoaster ups and downs of life, luck certainly seemed to be on his side as he continued to live life the way he does.

It was easy for people to become disillusioned by the prospects of a good and fulfilling life, and certainly there have been times when Magnus himself would fall to those bouts of uncertainty and pessimism as well—a problem those burdened with immortality usually faced, often leading to petrification. But living his days, always open to learning and not resisting change though they often make a turn for the unfamiliar is what gives him the motivation to look forward to all the tomorrows he would inevitably go through perpetually.

The many lifetimes he has lived certainly improved his mind with all the knowledge he could learn from them but knowing a lot did not mean knowing it all. What he already knows, he doesn't allow to interfere with him seeing the potential for uncertainties and all the other avenues and pathways off the beaten path he could continue tread on.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 【ㅤ H A N D S　】

In one's hands people can see, histories that the eyes and mind might have already forgotten. Wizened and weathered with age, sometimes rough and scarred from all the difficulties they've been through, sometimes soft and delicate, retired from all the troubles that no longer needed facing. But this was not so for the warlocks who never age and so whose hands never told the truth of their histories at first glance or first touch.

They were tools just as important to warlocks like any other man. They were not necessarily needed to cast their spells but it helped them greatly having a pair to concentrate their powers through them as natural foci. The hands, after all, were said to become playthings for the demons if left idle so warlocks make sure to always put them to work, leaving their infernal parents no room to take control.

The pair he owned were big and slender, his fingers manicured and painted, and always ornate and adorned in fineries. The size of them might seem intimidating at first but once he cast his spells and the familiar glittering blue essence of his magic would emanate from the tips of his fingers to the palm of his hands, the inviting and seemingly harmless movements of his hands and the magic he gives off could put anyone at ease—that is if he wasn't casting any offensive spell that could maim and hurt.

But setting aside his magic, his hands could be as kind as he truly was deep inside. His hands have been through centuries and centuries worth of difficulties, of comfort, and of hurt. But no matter how rough the patches he'd go through were, he was always ready to reach out and offer a helping hand to those in need and even those who weren't deserving of his concern. His hands were loving, gentle, and good just as he was, and could even be more to those fortunate enough to get to hold on to them, fingers intertwined, feeling the warmth of his adoration and affection.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 【ㅤ F O R G E T – M E – N O T S　】

If there was one thing that never fails to leave deep cuts and permanent scars for those who were immortal, it was, ironically, death. Though they were deprived of meeting Death should they not seek it themselves, that didn't mean they weren't constantly reminded of it, especially those who enjoy the companionships found in mortal beings.

Some understandably eventually give up on interacting with mortals altogether, no longer able to bear the pain and grief of losing them over and over when Death inevitably comes to claim them. But there were those like Magnus who has managed to entangle himself with the lives of many mortals. Some were great, some ordinary, though they all were to him, in their own ways, extraordinary.

It never really gets any easier with time, that kind of comfort and getting-used-to didn't apply when it comes to individuals who are never the same as the ones who came before them. Different people brought about different kinds of grief but the hurt remains constant even though some hurts may hurt more or less than the other.

The only thing Magnus could do for them once they were gone was to remember. It was an unspoken duty that those with immortal lives often take upon themselves to do. Death doesn't have to mean the end of everything especially for those who Magnus loved truly. Like the symbolism of forget-me-nots, years could pass and many other loves could stir his slow-beating heart, but his love and devotion for them will always be with him. No one deserves to be forgotten and forget them, he will not.

#magnus bane #the mortal instruments #river writes crap #magnus bane moodboard #tmi moodboard #raja gemini #the shadowhunter chronicles #the bane chronicles #dorian electra #moodboard

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magnusbanewastaken · 2 years

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original art by Cassandra Jean

#magnus bane #the mortal instruments #malec #alec lightwood #the bane chronicles #max lightwood bane #rafael lightwood bane #lightwood-bane #river makes crap #happy holidays #holiday greetings #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #christmas

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

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MALEC FLORIOGRAPHY | based on @cassandrajp’s illustrations

MAGNUS : Secret Tryst

Nutmeg Geranium - An Unexpected Meeting

Forget-Me-Not - True Love

Tuberose - Dangerous Love

Rosemary - Remembrance

Rose Geranium - Preference

Red Rose - Passion & Love

Pennyroyal - Flee

ALEC : Puppy Love

Lilac - First Emotions of Love

Forget-Me-Not - True Love

Bugle - Most Lovable

English Daisy - Innocence

White Azalea - First Love

Thornless Rose - Early Attachment

Hosta - Devotion

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #floriography #godfrey gao #kevin zegers #tmi #the mortal instruments #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #IT WAS HARD TO FIND THE EXACT FLOWERS USED HERE #ALSO CLEANING UP FROM OTHER PHOTOS BECAUSE THERE WERE NO TRANSPARENT PNGS FOR MOST OF THEM #river makes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

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ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyou have my heart

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 0:35 ──o───────── -4:23

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⇄ ㅤ ◃◃ㅤllㅤ▹▹ ㅤ↻ㅤㅤ

SUMMARY: Flowers can make the most beautiful poetry.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood

also @ ao3

Whenever Magnus takes a particular interest in something, it usually won't take him long to busy himself with it for months or even years. Whether it was playing the charango—which he would most likely not pick up an interest in again—or fancying himself as a mixologist or a detective, Magnus would alway yield to his perpetual curiosity and immerse himself with his fascinations. At the moment, it was floriography that has managed to stir his attention. It was not a new interest. About a couple of centuries ago Magnus had had his hand at the art of flower arranging, painting with the language of flowers. Although now, a certain new interest of his seemed to coincide well with his old hobby that somehow it felt right for a renaissance. And that's how Magnus's loft ended up appearing like a botanical garden that afternoon.

The loft's high ceiling was obscured by a canopy of cedar leaves, dangling down from branches that seemed to break out of the walls. Hanging from those branches were pots of orchids in whites and yellows draping over them like curtains. The portraits and paintings that were hanging from the walls were now replaced by bunches of wallflowers, in bright yellows and reds, pouring out its crevices. The floor, once covered in wooden floorboards were now covered with dirt and patches of purple milk vetch sprouting from the ground and around like an irregular fairy circle. That meant gone were the cushioned seats, the coffee table, and other furniture and electronics that occupied the center of Magnus's living area too. In their place were chiseled stones carpeting the floor, forming a patio bordered with hedges of diosma that were trimmed with rounded edges. Behind the hedges were bushes of vivid yellow furzes lining around the edges of the Magnus's pop-up botanical garden.

“Did you uproot a part the Seelie Court?” Alec asked after a long perusal and awe of Magnus's apartment-slash-botanical garden when he arrived from the Institute that evening.

“I don't think the Clave could just turn a blind eye if you did, even if you are the warlock representative,” Alec joked, in his usual straightforward and deadpan delivery. It wasn't always easy for others to know when Alec was joking, but Magnus would always catch it.

“Not even with my amorous entanglement with the Inquisitor's son?” Magnus spoke playfully before leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm sure I can work something out,” Alec replied in a low voice, breathing against Magnus's lips when they parted. Magnus kissed him again, briefly and lightly, before they pulled away from each other and return their attention back to the floral display surrounding them.

Magnus watched Alec as he continued to study the flowers around him. “What's all this for anyway?” Alec asked as he brushed the curtain of orchids, smiling a little as he felt its soft petals against his palms.

That smile would immediately disappear though as soon as a realization struck him. He then turned to Magnus and asked, “Oh, no. Did I forget our anniversary?”

“That's not for another few months, darling,” Magnus chuckled lightly seeing the look on Alec's face. “I just found an old book that reminded me of when I was enchanting Parisian nobles with flower language. I may have the tendency to be silver-tongued but I'm no good with writing or poetry—”

“Yeah, I remember the journal you gave me,” said Alec. Magnus winced. He didn't take it to heart but it did hurt slightly like a paper cut.

“Some parts of it were okay. I still can't believe you would talk about Camille's... err, bosoms, that way,” Alec continued with what Magnus thought was slander. Nevermind Camille, it was Alec thinking his writing was ‘okay’ that got to him.

“So I'm a terrible writer,” Magnus spoke calmly. At least he thought he did. He wasn't certain if that was how it came across or if he seemed constipated. “But I can make poetry with flowers.”

“Every flower has meaning, an idea or concept they symbolise,” Magnus continued, now somewhat recovered from Alec's unwitting attacks on Magnus's pride. “Even the cedar leaves above and the diosma hedges around us symbolise something.”

“When you arrange these flowers together in a bouquet it's like stringing together words to form lines and stanzas of poetry. But, of course, why would I settle for just a bouquet when I can make a whole garden,” Magnus shrugged and smiled somewhat smugly, feeling like he had recovered from the blow to his pride earlier.

“What does this all symbolise then?” Alec asked, looking at the flowers and then to Magnus.

Magnus smiled and simply replied, “My love for you.”

He held up his hands and a wispy wave of bright blue light wrapped around them. With a gentle motion of his hands, he summoned a slew of stemless flowers of purple, blue, and white. The purple flowers were known as viscarias and made up a majority of the summoned flowers, dancing around them like a wave of ribbons. Blending in between the purple flowers were the tiny blue forget-me-nots and specks of baby's breaths, trickling down but never quite falling to the ground. Instead they would slowly fade and cycle back, ceaselessly cascading like snow.

“These are viscarias,” he said as he let a few heads of the purple flowers land on his palm. “It asks the question, will you dance with me?” Magnus held out his hand towards Alec and he smiled, accepting the warlock's hand and releasing the viscarias to rejoin the flowers' dance.

#the malec mixtapes #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

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ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ...you wanna make out?

ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 0:35 ──o───────── -4:23

ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⇄ ㅤ ◃◃ㅤllㅤ▹▹ ㅤ↻ㅤㅤ

SUMMARY: Is this what the kids nowadays call "Netflix and chill?"

RATING: T

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood

also @ ao3

Magnus welcomed Alec home with his living room floor filled with colourful cushions covering up the large carpet sitting underneath. Alec still lived in the Institute but Magnus's place had also been, for quite some time now, somewhere he could come home to. It was almost midnight when Alec arrived but in his line of work it couldn't be helped; Magnus preferred to have him there with him around that time anyway.

Tonight they agreed on having a movie marathon. Magnus was in tight-fitting black boxers which had yellow gold floral detailing and a black tank top with a pop art style print of Siouxsie Sioux's face on it. He was holding a bowl of cheddar cheese popcorn over his stomach and was lying down with his back and head leaning against Alec's chest. Alec had changed into a comfortable dark gray sweatpants and Magnus's black, V-Neck shirt, printed with two hammers crossed like an ‘X’ in front of a broken white wall. He had one hand holding Magnus's and the other digging into the bowl to grab some popcorn.

They were a third of the way into their second trash movie that night. Alec wasn't really the kind to watch movies before, Magnus presumed he never really got much of an education on mundane media like most Shadowhunters, but Magnus was determined to introduce them to him. All the good ones, the bad ones, and especially the so-bad-it's-good ones. It was often the latter that they have found to be more entertaining. It's always good fun to bond over a mutual dislike for something and at least they had each other to suffer through them.

“Ugh, teenagers,” Magnus groaned as they watched the romantic leads makeout for the fifth or sixth time that far into the movie. “Do they even study? Where are their parents and why are they always making out?”

“Do you think people really do that?” Alec asked then sucked off some of the cheese dust that clung to his fingers.

“Do what?” Magnus replied without looking away from the screen. His face scrunched as he was still visibly frustrated at the romantic leads’ displays of affection.

“That,” he pointed at the screen where the leads were now singing along to the music playing over the radio as they were making out. “Do people really do that while music is playing,”

“I think so. You know folks back in the ‘60s did more than just that, and in live events no less,” Magnus chuckled as he remembered the wild concerts he had dragged Catarina to during the British Invasion. Ragnor at the time (all of the time, really) decided he was far too mature and sophisticated for fun, in other words, he decided to be a big boring bore during the height of fun in that era.

“Did you...?” Alec began, but he couldn't exactly put into words the thought that came to his mind. Magnus turned his head to the side and looked up at Alec with a smile.

“Nothing too crazy if that's what you're thinking,” he said as he pressed his palm against Alec's stubbled jaw. But Alec just looked at him with stern eyes, not believing a word he said, though Magnus knew Alec wasn't exactly serious. Magnus's mouth gaped looking at Alec as if he had been offended.

“What, it's true!” he said, then magicked away the bowl of popcorn on his stomach and set it on top of the coffee table just outside the cushioned area of the living room. He sat up then let go of Alec's hand as he turned his body slightly to face Alec properly.

“It was the ‘60s, and when in London, well, you know how it is,” Magnus shrugged, Alec raised his eyebrows and looked at him with eyes that seemed to say he was off the hook this time.

“Why'd you even ask?” Magnus looked at him, amused.

“Well... We like music...” said Alec, and he didn't need to say anything else. With a snap of Magnus's fingers their movie paused and with another snap, an upbeat music filled with high energy began blasting from the speakers instead.

“...you wanna make out?” Magnus teased with a mocking smile which was immediately wiped away from his face when Alec cupped his hands on either side of his face and pulled him in, burying deep, hungry kisses against Magnus's mouth.

Without breaking away from each other's face, Magnus turned his body so that he was now facing Alec and moved on top of him, straddling him as he burrowed his lips against his darling Shadowhunter. Alec's body slightly sunk lower as his upper back was pressed against the edge of the sofa. He brushed his hand at the back of Magnus's head while his other hand reached for the warlock's waist, bunching the fabric of his tank top in his fist before slipping his hand inside, wandering up his back.

It didn't take long before they got lost in each other's kisses and so lost in the music that they didn't even notice their movements have been matching the beats of the next couple of songs playing in the background. Were they on the third song already? Or was it the fourth? In any case, it was by that time when they managed to break away and get a bit of a breather. Magnus went on and left a trail of kisses and the wetness of his tongue from Alec's mouth down to his neck. Judging by the jerking lump he felt against his own as he sat on top of Alec, it seemed like he wanted him to keep going.

Even through the music, it was the sound of Alec's weak gasps as Magnus rubbed against him and softly bit on his runed neck that dominated the warlock's ears. He only stopped for a moment when Alec's wandering hands moved upwards to take off Magnus's top. Alec took of his shirt as well and as if on cue, the music started to slow down, giving Magnus time to marvel at Alec's scarred and beautiful muscular body. Alec looked away for a bit and felt his cheeks heat up; even now he still felt a little bit embarrassed whenever Magnus would just stop and stare at him. It was Alec who interrupted the tender moment when he stood up and took step back as he sat on the sofa.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispered, wrapped in a tone of worry, worried that he had done something wrong as he followed Alec and sat next to him.

Magnus was about to ask him whether he was alright or not when Alec smiled at him, his beautiful ocean blue eyes looking right at him. It caught him off guard. It wasn't until Alec was already leaning forward, his hand pressed against Magnus's chest as he kissed him did he snap out of it. Alec moved forward, making Magnus back away slightly. Alec pushed him down as he kissed him gently, tongues sliding against each other as Magnus slowly descended down on his back with Alec now on top of him. Magnus reached for the back of his head with both hands, one moving up, brushing his fingers through Alec's messy dark hair and the other moving down his back.

The warlock moaned as he felt Alec's mouth move away from his to kiss him softly against his neck along with the song's slow pace. Magnus's hand that was resting atop Alec's warm and sweaty back then went to his front, his fingers tracing down the muscular bumps on his chest down to his abs. Lower and lower his hand went until he finally slipped it down into Alec's sweatpants to feel him. He felt warm, warm like his whimpering breath against Magnus's neck as he reacted to his strokes and then . . .

#the malec mixtapes #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ i still love you, but it's over

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 0:35 ──o───────── -4:23

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⇄ ㅤ ◃◃ㅤllㅤ▹▹ ㅤ↻ㅤㅤ

SUMMARY: Coming back to his loft after walking away from Alec seemed to be more unbearable than Magnus had anticipated.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane

also @ ao3

It wasn't until he came back home the next day did it truly sunk in what Magnus had done, what Alec had done to drive Magnus to do what he did. Did he really walk away from someone he loved? Someone who actually loved him back the way he did, perhaps even more? This has never happened before, he's never done this before despite all the centuries he had lived and all the people he had loved. He has dumped people before, even ghosted them when the situation calls for it, but never when he loved them. He was fiercely loyal, he always stayed until they let him go, or when they no longer have the right to his heart, or until death takes them away from him.

It was easier to put an end to something already falling apart to rot and ruin, not when something was still shiny and beautiful and the latter was exactly the kind of love that had been growing between him and Alec. Magnus loved Alec. He had been sure of that even if there was a much longer state of confusion on both ends. He still loved Alec when he told him that it was over between them. He still loved Alec even now, he was certain of it, otherwise he wouldn't be hurting this much.

He sunk into his sofa and felt the prickling heaviness in his heart course through within him. There were no tears to be shed, not even false smiles or laughter to convince himself that he was doing fine, that he was going to be fine. Magnus just felt nothing. This was a situation he didn't like to be in, a feeling he didn't like to be feeling. He didn't like how a Nephilim would have that kind of power over him. But then again this was Alec, he wasn't just any other Nephilim. He had encountered the whole lot of them, but there has never been one quite like Alec.

Alec was the first of many things for Magnus, if anyone could believe that. It was confusing and difficult to navigate the kind of relationship they had—not even his past experiences could prepare him for Alec—but it wasn't a regrettable one, despite how it ended. Magnus convinced himself that this was probably for the best, for the both of them. Alec's first love shouldn't be someone like him anyway, he was too much of a complication for someone who just started his journey on finding himself, of accepting himself, of knowing what it's like to love someone and have them love you back. If he had been Alec's third or fourth boyfriend maybe they could have worked out, he began thinking, but quickly discarded that thought. He shouldn't be hoping. He loved him, and he loves him still, but it was over.

He looked around his loft and found it almost exactly the same as it had been before Alec came into his life. But now it felt strange without Alec's faded and tattered sweaters strewn about somewhere in his loft, it felt lonelier without Alec's presence in general. He sighed then turned and curled to the side of the sofa so he didn't see how empty his loft felt. With a snap of his fingers he turned up some music to hopefully drown out his thoughts away. But halfway into a familiar song the music came to an abrupt stop. Magnus destroyed his speaker system with a wave of his hand and decided then that he didn't like listening to music anymore.

#the malec mixtapes #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #malec #magnus bane #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤthe european countryside roadtrip, take two.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 0:35 ──o───────── -4:23

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⇄ ㅤ ◃◃ㅤllㅤ▹▹ ㅤ↻ㅤㅤ

SUMMARY: After all the unexpected shenanigans that almost ruined Magnus and Alec's European trip last time, it was about time for a do-over.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood

also @ ao3

Magnus had his right hand on the wheel as his other arm rested upon the side of the Maserati GT Convertible they rented. It was one of the luxury car rental's latest, so the attendant told them when Magnus asked for the finest one they had. It was an easy and smooth drive as they heading up north, to the countryside outside Paris. It reminded him of the time they went on the Italian countryside a few years back, although the car they had then was red unlike the sleek black one Magnus was driving at present. Black was more Alec's colour and his face practically lit up when they were in the showroom which Magnus took note of, for future reference. And thankfully, there was no third-wheeling cultist with them this time.

The roads were long and nearly empty, the air was fresher and the environment more peaceful as they drove further out. The warlock looked to his side and saw Alec, his eyes closed as his arm was resting on his side of the car. His eyes were closed as he felt the wind hit his face and as he listened to the playlist Magnus made for this drive.

Music, and listening to music together. That was something they seem to have grown fond of doing since the first playlist Magnus made for Alec for no other reason than the songs reminded the warlock of him. Some time after Alec would show him songs that he prepared for Magnus as well until it became a thing between the two of them. It was always satisfying for Magnus to see a smile on Alec's face, even more so if it was because of him and he could see that now as Alec bobbed along to the song playing through the car's speakers.

The warlock smiled at the sight of Alec. He pulled his left arm way from the side of the car and switched his hold on the wheel, freeing his right hand. With his free hand, he reached for Alec's which was resting on his lap. Alec gently opened his eyes as he felt Magnus's fingers slide between his. He turned his attention to the warlock and smiled at him as they locked hands together. Alec lifted his hand and brushed his lips against the back of Magnus's hand, a gesture that the warlock was definitely delighted by. Magnus squeezed Alec's hand as he looked forward to the road ahead of them.

#the malec mixtapes #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤto the light of my life

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 0:35 ──o───────── -4:23

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⇄ ㅤ ◃◃ㅤllㅤ▹▹ ㅤ↻ㅤㅤ

SUMMARY: Magnus gets a bad case of the earworm and starts to involve himself in an activity he once loathed, making mixtapes.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Catarina Loss

also @ ao3

On one completely ordinary Saturday morning, Catarina had decided to drop by Magnus's place after working late hours at the hospital. She was tired but wasn't too tired to head on home and just sleep and Magnus wasn't particularly busy for the rest of the day anyway. He made her coffee then the two chatted away, updating each other with the latest goings-on in their lives.

Their conversation went on until Catarina's hand casually wandered upon a slip of paper just sitting over the counter. She glanced upon it and saw words that seemed like names.

“What's thi–” Catarina was going to ask, but before she could finish, Magnus swiped away the piece of paper in her hand.

“Nothing,” he quickly spoke. Catarina stared at him in the eyes, tilting her head to the side a bit as if asking, really?

“Just some songs that I wanted Alec to listen to, it's nothing,” Magnus insisted.

“You've completely lost it,” Catarina shook her head. “THE Magnus Bane working on a mixtape? Never thought I'd see the day.”

“It's not a mixtape, it's just a playlist,” he replied indignantly. “I highly doubt Alexander even owns a cassette player.”

“Mixtape, playlist, same difference,” Catarina sat up with a big smile on her face and set her mug on the table; teasing Magnus seemed to be more energising than the coffee.

“I specifically remember you saying back in the ‘80s that mixtapes were lazy, that people who did it, and I quote,” she cleared her throat and purposefully did the worst impersonation of Magnus that she could, “‘Just suck at poetry and mask their ineptness in writing with their terrible taste in music like the failed pseudo-romantics that they were.’”

Magnus rolled his eyes, groaned in disgust at his dearest friend's accusations, then said, “I could write my dear Alexander endless poems and proses about my sincere love and affection for him, but right now I just wanted him to listen to some songs that remind me of him.”

Catarina coughed and in between uttered a word that very much sounded like, “Hypocrite.”

“Oh shut up.”

#the malec mixtapes #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #malec #magnus bane #catarina loss #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

ONE NIGHT AT MR. DRY'S

SUMMARY: Nothing ever happens on Wednesday. Well, there was always something happening, especially in New York, but those ‘somethings’ barely amount to anything worthwhile. Like cogs and sprockets within an automaton, everyone and everything just simply are, evermoving and existing in uninspiring mundaneity, especially on Wednesdays.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane

also @ ao3

Nothing ever happens on Wednesday. Well, there was always something happening, especially in New York, but those ‘somethings’ barely amount to anything worthwhile. Like cogs and sprockets within an automaton, everyone and everything just simply are, evermoving and existing in uninspiring mundaneity, especially on Wednesdays.

What was typically a place of raucous revelry and evenings filled with unbridled guilt, Mr. Dry's would sing a different tune that night. Despite the speakeasy only occupying a small space hidden behind a wig shop, enough for about twenty or thirty people moving and bumping into each other at a time, having it be occupied by no more than ten patrons almost makes it seem as spacious as the Plaza Hotel lobby. Most of the space was reserved for the dance floor and the stage, but there were no patrons wearing out the surface of the dance floor tonight. The band wasn't there either, save for the pianist playing a soulful, delicate tune to match the serene ambience of Mr. Dry's.

Connor Brannigan was a pale man with a long, severe face, and a mess of auburn hair like the autumn foliage in Central Park. He wore a lose-fitting dark grey three-piece suit and an untied bowtie hanging around his neck. He looked to be in his thirties but he was actually just in his early twenties and he had his stern and serious visage to blame for that. He was a difficult man to read at first glance but his eyes and hands, both gentle and passionate, would tell you a different story. He could play the liveliest upbeat melodies with the rest of his band on the weekends, one might even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face too, but it was on slow days like these when he preferred to play the most. He was practically playing for an empty room, but the pianist's demeanor and focus was the same as he would have any other night. Though he seemed to be quite a daunting person at first, he was not exactly a difficult man to connect with. Like any other man, he reacts quite well with the right kind of drink.

Behind the marble bar in the far side of Mr. Dry's stood its proprietor and only barman for tonight, Magnus Bane. He appeared to be quite the respectable young man with his perfectly coiffed hair, sharp bright eyes, and prepossessing smile, though no one would imagine someone who looked as young as he was would own the joint. He was wearing a gothic-style, midnight blue waistcoat over a white dress shirt that's unbuttoned just enough to expose his bare chest. The sleeves were rolled up to this elbows so it wouldn't restrict his movements as he mixed drinks. He filled in the shaker in his hands with ice then poured in some whiskey and a chilled, strong brew of earl grey tea. He capped off the open end of a shaker and shook it so that it all blends well together as he hummed along to the tune that Connor was playing. He poured out the light rusty brown liquid into a glass pint then topped it off with ginger ale and stirred it before setting it on a tray. He filled up another glass with just water and let it sit next to his cocktail concoction before putting up the countertop to get to the other side of the counter. He skillfully picked up the tray with one hand then made his way towards the stage.

“Your drink, sir,” Magnus called out with his most charming smile as he approached the pianist, setting his drinks on the coasters placed atop the piano. Connor turned his head to face him without interrupting his playing.

“Thanks, Boss,” he smiled and nodded at him in acknowledgement.

He kept playing, even with one hand, as he took a swig off the drink, inhaling the spicy scent of the whiskey cocktail. Magnus called it The Piano Man in his head since the colour reminded him of the pianist's red hair and the taste of his fiery yet firm passion when playing. Magnus hasn't exactly been a fan of redheads before or green eyes, but people who had a penchant for music and the arts in general have appealed to him. There was just something about the way they made him feel safe and loved even without saying a word. It's a shame what happened to his fiancée, but even after five years he has never taken his ring off. Magnus admired him for that.

As soon as Connor set down his empty glass and went back to playing with both hands, he smoothly segued into a slightly more upbeat and soulful tune compared to the slow and serene one he had been playing. The pianist's expression subtly lit up which made Magnus perk up a bit as well. No one was sitting by the bar right then as the few people in attendance were satisfied with the bottles of beer they had on the tables, so Magnus thought to stay with Connor for a moment. They didn't speak, if one could believe Magnus capable of not speaking for more than a minute, but he was more than satisfied with just listening to Connor play.

“Magnus Bane!” came a voice that echoed throughout the room. Magnus recognized it but did not want to hear it at all, not when it was one of the few quiet nights of respite he had at Mr. Dry's. Connor seemed to know who it was too as he simply said, “Good luck,” and punctuated it with a light chuckle.

After getting a pat down from the doorman, the young man who called out to Magnus followed him back to the bar area. He looked to be barely even legal to drink but he was very clearly made of money and people like him normally think they were above the law. His name was George Vanderbluff and was the shining example of the privileged. He had blonde hair combed neatly, parting towards the right. He also had bright, ocean blue eyes which Magnus would normally be enthralled by, but on other people, not George. He was wearing a loud, yellow, patterned full suit lined with jewels at the lapel and a vest to match but he did not wear any dress shirt underneath. He was adorned in fine gold jewelry around his neck and his hands and wrist and just generally stuck out like a sore thumb. If Magnus was going to be honest, he thought the young man was looking quite tacky even for him who, on special occasions, liked to be adorned in all things glittering and sparkling.

“Magnus, my friend, I see business is slow these days,” he spoke in an annoying, nasally voice with a terrible imitation of a Trans-Atlantic accent. Or at least that's how it sounded like to Magnus.

“It's a Wednesday, George, unlike you some people have jobs to busy themselves with,” Magnus replied as he returned to his post behind the counter.

“You wound me, Magnus, is this how you treat your customers?”

“Not normally, no, only with you.”

“I feel special.”

Magnus really disliked George. Not so much as loathing him but he did feel like he was a massive nuisance. He didn't like the way George would treat him. He was trying to be nice to Magnus which wouldn't normally be bad but not when George, just like any other bored elite out there, was currently into foreign exotic cultures. And Magnus being the closest “foreign exotic person” he could find, meant that George was very much interested in him. Despite all that, Magnus was in no position to have him be blacklisted lest he wanted to risk Little Georgie to run and tell daddy—who was quite close with a certain Officer McMantry—about Magnus's little speakeasy. And so he had to endure a little inconvenience, hoping George tires of his fleeting flights of fancy in the exotics soon.

“Will you be drinking or do you plan on wasting both of our time?” Magnus asked, his arms folded across his chest.

“Easy there, Mags, be nice,” said George as he leaned against the edge of the marble bar. “I brought the friend I mentioned before here tonight, see?”

True enough, he did bring someone along with him. Magnus completely missed him on account of his attention and ire have been directed towards George. Unlike him, this new person was dressed simply and sensibly in a white dress shirt and red tie underneath a brown blazer that was a little bit tattered around the edges, and he also wore black slacks and shoes. Thomas Wagner, George said his name was and he had chestnut brown hair, a lovely set of hazel eyes behind his square, thick-framed glasses, and an apparent burnt scarring on his neck and jaw, something Magnus wouldn't want to ask about, or until the third or fourth drink perhaps. Why a seemingly-ordinary young man was friends with George was beyond Magnus.

“Pleased to meet you,” Thomas smiled stiffly as he shook hands with Magnus. His grip was just as stiff as his smile and he felt a bit jittery, like he was nervous or something. It took Thomas a couple of seconds too long before he broke away from the handshake. Perhaps he really was nervous, Magnus thought, but for what, he didn't know.

“Give me the usual, Magnus, and one of your very best for my cousin.”

Magnus rolled his eyes shut immediately got to work. The sooner George gets his fill, the sooner he might stop talking to him. George's ‘usual’ drink was called The Prick's Drink in Magnus's mind, because he was of course a massive prick.

“George told me all about this fun operation you got here,” said Thomas.

“You do know that the main point of this ‘fun operation’ is secrecy?” Magnus was looking at George as he started mixing together equal parts of vodka and rum in a glass jar then followed it with a hefty amount of squeezed lemonade they had in stock.

“Oh, you don't have to worry about me, sir, I haven't any friends to tattle things to,” Thomas smiled. “That sounded less pathetic in my head.”

“And that's why I brought my dear cousin here to check out the place before throwing him here 'round the weekend. Fancy schmancy scientists like him ought to be going out more,” George spoke, but Magnus was barely listening, he was filling the jar with ice until it reached its neck before capping it off tightly to shake it and mix the contents until it looked frothy.

“So you're a scientist?” Magnus asked as he uncapped the jar and poured in the icy, frothy, yellow liquid into a glass goblet, and garnished it with a couple of mint leaves before sliding the glass towards George.

“A physicist, yes,” Thomas began and then he continued talking about the kind of work he did.

George laughed and looked at Magnus symapthetically thinking that he might get bored with Thomas's talk of quantum mechanics and equations but he was not. He very much preferred that than listening to another word coming out of George. Magnus would even throw in questions which the physicist was very much excited to answer. Suddenly, he felt grateful for actually listening to Ragnor and his Royal Society friends over coffee all those years ago.

Thomas did a lot of talking but unlike George, Thomas was actually quite pleasant to talk to. He even told him about how he got his scar from an experiment that went awry back in his university days. He was also genuinely interested in what Magnus was doing as he watched him fix him his drink which involved mixing together moonshine, spiced rum, and lime juice in a shaker. Thomas was amused when he saw Magnus also put in a couple of dashes of Tabasco sauce in there as well as honey. He didn't think any of that fit with alcohol but Magnus was more than happy to explain his methods. George would sometimes throw in a few quips here and there but they would remain largely ignored. After some vigorous shaking, Magnus poured in the lime green liquid in a pint glass until it was all in. He picked up the glass and put it under one of the taps behind the bar and filled the rest with a clear, carbonated lemon-lime liquid of Magnus's own making.

“Here you go,” Magnus spoke brightly as he set down the pint glass back to the surface of the marble bar then gave it a little stir before pushing it towards Thomas.

Magnus watched him expectantly as he gulped down from his pint, hoping that the physicist would react well to it. As he drank, his eyes widened and when he set the glass back down a smile formed on his face.

“This is really good,” said Thomas. “It's sweet but I feel it pack a punch and—woah, I think my head just throbbed a bit.”

“Let's call it The Quantum Punch then,” Magnus smiled.

The three of them talked more a bit afterwards, with George finally sounding a lot more tolerable now that he had a drink. By then some of the patrons who had been there on separate tables have started to leave, a few times calling out to Magnus just before they go and he would tell them that he'd be expecting them in a couple of days. Even Connor followed soon after and went home. Not long after that, George already had too much to drink. Thomas held on just fine though and they had the same amount and kind of cocktails to drink.

“We should get going,” Thomas said.

“Good, I can't stand your cousin anymore, and it looks like he physically can't stand anymore either,” said Magnus, looking at George, knocked out and slumped over the counter yet still somehow standing. As soon as he said it he almost regretted it not for George's sake but because he thought he might have offended Thomas. But Thomas just laughed and said,

“Sometimes I can't stand him either, but it's just the money talking, he's a good kid.”

He helped George out from literally slumping over the counter and flung his cousin's arm around his neck as he carried his weight beside him. George still had the sense to walk, or more accurately wobble, next to his cousin.

“See you around, Magnus!” Thomas called out without looking back. He faintly heard him say, “Morning, ma'am,” too and when he looked up from cleaning up the glassware there he saw a woman making her way towards the marble bar sporting a nurse's uniform, a black coat over her white dress uniform and a nurse cap still pinned to her hair.

“That funny looking blonde, was that your admirer?” she asked as soon as she reached the bar and leaned forward and rested her arms over the countertop. She wasn't blue—the literal shade of blue—today as Magnus had observed. She had skin of dark brown and instead of her silvery white hair, her hair was as black as a raven. That was her go to look when under a glamour for the mundanes.

“My greatest nuisance, yes,” Magnus replied as he took out a couple of fresh old fashioned glasswares and set it aside. “But he was kind of alright today, his cousin Thomas was quite nice.”

“Do you like him?” she asked as she unpinned the cap from her head, letting loose her raven hair, flowing like the invisible currents hidden deep in the ocean. Magnus was gathering half-and-half, condensed milk, instant coffee, chocolate syrup, and vanilla at the same time.

“I don't like every well-mannered pretty boy I see, Catarina,” he said as he began pouring in the ingredients he just gathered into an electric blender, mixing them at low speed for half a minute.

“No, but you'd think they're the bee's knees,” Catarina teased. Her elbows were perched on the counter and her hands joined together underneath her chin as she grinned knowingly at Magnus.

“Well, he was,” he replied as he filled the two glasswares he set aside earlier with ice. “How are things at St. Mary's?”

“Where do I even begin,” said Catarina then let out a heavy sigh of exhaustion before she got started on her story.

It wasn't an easy job being a nurse at a children's hospital, even more so when you were one of the few ‘coloured people’ working there since a lot of children of colour going in there don't get the same treatment and care as the white children. Helping those kids was one of the main reasons why Catarina decided to have her glamour be of someone who was a person of colour. She was already technically coloured originally and while her warlock mark wasn't specifically her point of prejudice, she was still someone who can sympathize with those mundanes, especially the children, who would experience a lot worse.

As Magnus was listening to her, he started pouring about an ounce of black coffee liqueur in each glass then filled the rest with sarsaparilla. He then topped off both glass with the crème liqueur he concocted in the mixer. He called this one The Graveyard Shift. He listened on to her as she recounted how her day went all while drinking with her. He would refill it every now and then with the black coffee liqueur and crème liqueur until the very last drop, most of which were served to Catarina since between the two of them, she was the one who needed to relax and let out her weariness.

Before the sun rose, it was finally time to close up shop. Catarina helped Magnus with cleaning up, both sneakily using their magic under the doorman's nose as they did. As soon as they were done, they all came out of the wig shop, which would be open for normal business in a few hours, and parted ways to go home.

Wednesday didn't turn out to be as uneventful as Magnus had originally thought, perhaps he was wrong in thinking that nothing ever happened on Wednesdays. It would seem that Thursday should be the one to take that crown, as he had experienced after opening up Mr. Dry's the next night. He couldn't hardly wait for Friday, he thought, that's when the fun begins and that's when Magnus—and the rest of his weary-hearted, wayward patrons—would begin to shine and live, there in the mundane world's own brand of Downworld.

#magnus bane #the bane chronicles #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

WHAT TO BUY THE SHADOWHUNTER WHO HAS EVERYTHING (And Who You're FINALLY Officially Dating... And More)

SUMMARY: In compliance with our roleplaying group's winter holidays special activity, following the prompt: “Someone has just become fabulously wealthy and is picking out gifts for their family.”

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Max Lightwood-Bane

TAG/S: rpgroup, writing challenge, romance, winter holidays, christmas

also @ ao3

Last minute Christmas gift-shopping was always a terrible idea. Either things would be out of stock by that point or nothing much of worth would be left on the shelves. Not to mention the surprising long lines that still exist that late into the holidays. Not to mention having to deal with ill-tempered customers in line with you and the frustrated staff who had to be stuck at work instead of spending the last few days before Christmas preparing for their own celebrations at home. But that's not always the case, not if you were like Magnus who knew exactly where to go.

Everywhere you looked in the Liberty Mall were a festoon of lights, ribbons, tinsels, shiny ornaments, and faux evergreens decked along escalators, archways, and guardrails. A massive Christmas tree that reaches up to almost the third floor of the mall, stood tall at the center of the atrium. This was the place to be in Manhattan for Magnus's quick, at-the-very-last minute shopping spree. All the shops were still open despite it being Christmas Eve already but there weren't a lot of people there compared to other stores and strips around Manhattan around this time in the afternoon. The reason for that most likely had something to do with the stores there being lavishly-priced luxury stores. And that was most unfortunate for him since he liked the attention and stares he'd get for the captivating outfits he usually wore.

Today he had on black leather pants, a studded black belt that looped around his waist twice, and a blood red wool overcoat open over a white wool deep V-neck sweater. A pair of gold thin rimmed sunglasses sat neatly over his coiffed hair and his face was subtly slathered with silver bits of glitter just over his eyelids and out towards the outer corners of his eyes. At least there were still some store managers to dazzle, he thought, perhaps he'd even get discounts as it sometimes often happens to him. Not that he needed any discounts. He had a perfectly wonderful yet complicated relationship with money that never really failed him even at times when he'd end up with nothing but the shirt on his back. He could get himself anything he wanted and anything anyone else wanted. Which is how he ended up going for a last minute shopping spree in the first place.

He didn't have to be there. Personally Magnus wouldn't really bother with shopping "traditionally" for anything. He could just conjure up anything from somewhere and compensate for them later, that is if he remembers to do so, and it was more reliable than online shopping. But now that he was practically sharing his life with Alec, some changes with his lifestyle had to be made. His roguish shopping habits weren't something Alec particularly liked leaving the warlock no choice but to oblige.

He sauntered through the marbled floors of Liberty Mall, going in store after store to pick out presents for tonight's party. It was a gathering at the Institute, mostly a Shadowhunter event despite other Downworlders like him being invited and despite Christmas not exactly traditionally celebrated among the Nephilim. It was an excuse to have a party for the holidays and a way to have their growing families gather together for a night. He wasn't in charge of organising this party, a mistake and a tragedy for them if you'd ask Magnus. He would've done it for free if they asked but the other people who aren't his friends and family that will be there were still predisposed into thinking Magnus would have turned it into a Downworlder rave. At least it was Isabelle helming the celebration, he could count on her to pull off something he would still enjoy despite the restraints of the ever-so-uptight Nephilim traditions.

It was easy enough to think of gifts for the women in his life since fashion was always the answer. He went to every big-named fashion houses at Liberty and was immediately entertained by store attendants, likely believing he might be someone important or famous with the way Magnus always carried himself. And if not that, it was the wads of cash he'd fan and flaunt to their faces, Magnus always wanted to do that. Isabelle was easy to give gifts to since she was always more than willing to try out anything Magnus recommends and her taste and style was to his liking. He simply got her anything he thought would look good on him if he was a woman. Maryse, much like her daughter was somewhat easier to give gifts to. Some jewelry here, designer coats and handbags here and there. They didn't always see eye to eye but ever since his little blueberry, Max, came around, Maryse had softened, even Robert too. She'd often invite him over just to chat, although he was certain she just wanted to spoil little Max. But it did give him the opportunity to get close to her and know her well which also pleased Alec.

Lily was another person he found to be easy to gift to, she'd accept almost anything fancy he gave her, even the not-so-fancy ones he'd sometimes trick her into believing were fancy. Clary on the other hand was slightly more difficult as to this day she still had little to no fashion sense and would deny him the opportunity to enlighten her about the latest fashion trends. Even Maia was easier to bend, provided it came along with a couple of board games and video games. But that won't stop him from trying. He didn't want to force Clary into things that would be uncomfortable for her even if they are trendy. He didn't want to change her, he only wanted to open her eyes to different possibilities than just sticking with something safe and casual. Good thing Jocelyn wasn't as difficult as her daughter. He got her some clothes and jewelry but of course he had to give her the finest brushes and paints as well as coffee table books on art. He was certain Clary would be jealous of them but she'll have to up her fashion game first before he gives her anything she actually wanted.

Men were difficult to give gifts to, he thought. If they weren't anything like him who had a taste for all the pretty and stylish things in the world, he wouldn't be enjoying even thinking about what to give them. Raphael and Ragnor were the exceptions since their gifts were almost exclusively joke gifts and expensive ones at that. But, well, it wasn't possible to do that anymore. He completely rushed through gifts for Jace, Simon, Luke, and Robert and got them simple, not-as-thoughtful as the rest gifts. A set of throwing knives from Japan and a set of Scandinavian hunting knives were for Jace. Simon gets to inherit some of the rare comic books in his possession that were still in mint condition. He threw in a couple of the latest computer games in there just to say he actually bought him something. Luke also gets a set of first editions of books he had owned for centuries; he figured he wouldn't mind that they were used books. But he also got him some new clothes and shoes. Magnus appreciated his alternative, scruffy vibe but he can't wear plaid and worn out boots every single day of the week, that's just preposterous, especially when he has to stand next to a lovely woman such as Jocelyn. And for Robert he got him a pair of watches and a set of fashionable ties, dads liked those kinds of things, right?

He also threw in mugs with designs that he thought would fit for everyone like "Nothing Less Than Seven Inches" for Isabelle. "World's Best Grandma and Grandpa" for Maryse and Robert respectively, "Life Is Short And So Am I" for Clary, "I'm A Vampire Let Me Suck You Off" for Lily, things like that. Nobody likes getting mugs, especially not for Christmas, but he had already prepared expensive gifts for them, surely they wouldn't mind the mugs.

He was empty-handed again after sending away the novelty mugs he got for everyone. His loft must look like Santa's Workshop by now with the amount of gifts he sent back there, he was hoping to get back and do some wrapping before Alec and Max comes home. He looked out the glass panes of the side of the mall to see that the sky was still a bluish gray of daylight, and the horizon was just turning into a faint shade of purple. It's only been a couple of hours but going through all those stores felt like a lengthy ordeal. Next year he wouldn't be so generous, he thought, he'll only do it again in ten years or twenty.

Now all that's left was his own little family. Alec and Max. Max and Alec. My family. He kept repeating the thought in his mind. Even if it's been years since he and Alec were together and well over a year since Max came into their lives, it was still a bit odd for him to think that this was all real if he was being honest, but it was all real. Being with Alec was real. Having Max with them was real. He doesn't really show it but even Magnus was still trying to get used to the idea.

Max was not difficult to think of a gift for, what was difficult was restraining himself from spoiling him; Max was such a cute baby it was really difficult not to do so. If Magnus had it his way he would've spoiled him to death, even Maryse was quite eager to do just that, but Alec wasn't going to have any of that, and he was right on this one. Still, it was Christmas, so he got Max some stuffed toys and a rideable toy car that looked very much like the black Maserati he and Alec rode through France last summer. He hoped for the best that Alec would let this slide becuase Max would look really cute in it, provided he didn't float away with it.

Alec was the last person he would be getting a gift for. Magnus could have made an excuse for himself that this was because he saved the best for last but really Alec was the first person he tried to think of a gift for, the moment he woke up this morning to be exact, and since then he hasn't settled on what to actually give him. Magnus wondered how you could love someone so passionately and even know that someone all too well for quite some time, yet you still find yourself having difficulties with thinking of what to gift said someone.

Magnus took respite in a garden cafe on the first floor of the Liberty Mall. He had one of their special winter lattes that were sweet and minty cool to taste while still thinking of a gift for Alec. He knew he couldn't ask anyone else for their opinions, he learned that lesson the last time he tried to think of a gift for Alec on his eighteenth birthday. He could always ring up Isabelle but he figured she would still be busy with organising things for tonight. Scrolling through articles online on his phone didn't help much either since they found them all too tacky and incredibly heteronormative for his liking. He sighed and put down his phone and took a sip from his latte.

His eyes lingered on the stuffed toys sitting inside the toy car he recently bought for Max just sitting next to his chair. He hadn't sent it away to his loft yet since seeing it gave him some sort of comfort. Looking at the car closely made him remember of his time in France with Alec again. That was the time where they finally managed to redo their European trip without having anything to do with demons and cultists. He has been in and out of France far too many times since the Belle Époque but that summer felt like a brand new experience with Alec. Magnus showed him all the places he had fallen in love with in the quaint countrysides of France and Alec showed him how to fall in love with them all over again. He told Alec about how he felt about that and Alec told him how much he looked forward to seeing the world with him. That was a promise that made Magnus believe that what they had was something for the long run, that he would be loving Alec for a long time. And that's when it hit him. He finally figured out what to give Alec.

Magnus's loft never looked so bright and festive unless it was because of his parties. It has been a long time since he last threw one and it was before Max came along. Tonight, his living room was ornamented by the dreamy and warm hues of gold, beige, cream, and white. The usual colours of reds, greens, yellows, and blues were much too gaudy for Magnus's vision of Christmas that year. The only greens in sight were the garlands lined all over the place and the tree sitting at the center of the room, swathed with gold and silver tinsels and ornaments as well as strings of fairy lights. Sitting by the floor and standing about as high as half of the tree were the presents he had bought earlier in the day. Magnus had already changed into the suit he would be wearing tonight. Alec had warned him that he might get looks from people since he would be wearing white when it's not a funeral. Not that Alec really minded but thought he should let him know anyway. Magnus thought that would be ridiculous, he'd be wearing chanterelle beige not white and he would very much like to get looks from people. And that was that, no one could tell Magnus how to dress anyway.

He was surrounded by lights and sparks of blue as he did his magic, as he was still in the middle of boxing and wrapping the last batch of presents when he heard the door swing open. Without pause, he looked over the side of the tree and looking past the mountain of presents to find Alec with an astonished expression on his face. He was also already in his outfit for tonight which was something he asked Magnus to pick for him. He wore dark brown dress pants and brown overcoat over a cozy beige turtleneck sweater that let him look somewhat formal without sacrificing comfort. He would have just worn something semi-formal but knowing Magnus, he wouldn't have let him look too simple next to him. Alec was carrying a little blueberry of a baby in his right arm, wearing a little black and white onesie suit. The little blue warlock was looking far more cheery than Alec at the sight of the presents. Or perhaps he just had a nice mix of milk in his bottle that day, Magnus couldn't quite tell with Max sometimes.

"Did you just rob the North Pole?" asked Alec.

"Of course not! And even if I did, I'd say it's fair game, that jolly old bastard owes me," Magnus just finished tying the final bow on the last gift in the pile when he walked over to where Alex and Max was.

"...Santa Claus is real?"

"Absolutely, and he's a warlock too. I thought that was common knowledge," said Magnus then planted a kiss on Max's temple.

Alec was not always sure whether Magnus was making things up especially when it comes to warlock things and his warlock friends but that wasn't what's important right now.

"You paid for all this, right?"

"I did and here are the receipts to prove it," with a quick snap of a finger there appeared a clipboard of receipts popping up from a blue swirl of light, floating right in front of Alec's line of sight.

Magnus spoke almost too proudly about legally acquiring his gifts. Alec had been persistent in guilting him with the things he'd conjure from somewhere without paying after all. Magnus picked up Max from Alec's grasp before Alec started flipping through the receipts. Then suddenly a gasp was heard.

"By the Angel, Magnus! Twenty thousand dollars just for clothes?" Alec asked, having a more audible and greater shock than the one he had when he came in earlier causing Max to look up at Magnus as if he could understand and was looking at him for answers.

"They were Dior," Magnus simply explained.

"Seventeen thousand dollars for a watch?" Alec continued flipping.

"Two watches actually, believe me that's already cheap, I hope your father doesn't mind."

"How could you even afford all this?" He asked as he still continued flipping but should really be stopping at this point.

"The painting I sold off the other day remember? It was worth millions apparently,"

"Millions?" Alec looked at Magnus with an even greater expression of disbelief than when he started flipping through the receipts.

"This is why I don't want to talk money with you, you look like you're about to faint," Magnus spoke calmly as he held Alec's face in his free hand hoping it would calm Alec down as well.

"Remind me not to ask next time," Alec nodded then sighed. Magnus looked at him, a bit of worry evident on his face but Alec gave him a reassuring smile, "As long as you actually paid for things."

"Yes, dad, I don't do that thing anymore," Magnus quipped with a smile and dipped in for a kiss on Alec's cheek.

"How are we getting all this to the Institute?"

"Darling."

"Right, magic. Almost forgot. Well, we better go ahead, Izzy will kill me if we're late."

"Wait, I'm sure Izzy won't mind us being fashionably late. I want to give you your present right now," said Magnus then passed Max back to Alec's arms.

"You look serious," Alec noted as he let Max nestle comfortably in his right arm.

"Just nerves. I'm not sure why when I know you wouldn't say no."

"No?"

A whirl of blue light appeared in the palm of Magnus's hand. When the glowing light dissipated, underneath it was a small red velvet box. Magnus could see Alec was already too stunned to say anything. He stared at the box in the warlock's hand for a moment and then back at Magnus. His brilliant blue eyes seemed like they were glistening as their eyes met and Magnus felt his heart warm up at the sight of Alec's smile.

Magnus opened the box and cushioned inside were a pair of rings. One had a round ocean blue diamond set in an intricate basket of flame filigrees, setting on top of a half-braided white gold band. The other ring was a bit bigger in size with an emerald cut blue diamond framed with blue melee diamonds.

"You paid for this too, right?" Alec finally spoke, Magnus almost laughed.

"Darling."

"Sorry, nerves."

"It's my promise to you, my love," said Magnus. "I still stand by what I said the last time we spoke about it, that I won't have you marry me until you, until we, can marry in gold. You deserve nothing less and I can't have you settle for less just because you chose to be with me. I want these rings to be a promise and a reminder for us everyday when we might glance upon it that this is all real. Just as real as any other Shadowhunter unions. That the kind of love we have is not worth anything lesser just because it's a little bit different than what Nephilim traditions dictate.

"So, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, if I may ask,” Magnus got down on one knee and looked up at the two loves of his life, first to Max and then to Alec, "Will you promise to stand by me until we can marry in gold?"

"Absolutely. Yes. It's a promise," Alec was holding back tears as he said that. Max might have felt it too since he started blubbering things and patting his little hands on Alec's face as if to comfort him.

Magnus picked out the ring with the round cut blue diamond then reached out for Alec's left hand. He slipped the white gold band in his ring finger then looked up into Alec's beautiful blue eyes with his heart full of love. Alec took out the other ring from the box with his free hand as Magnus raised his left hand in front of him. The ring sat perfectly around Magnus's left ring finger and suddenly it was the most priceless ring he had, putting all the other rings he wore to shame. They both leaned in for a kiss, it was sweet and tender and Magnus felt the warmth of Alec's love between his lips. But Max had other plans when he decided to break it off and hit Magnus on the side of his head.

"Alright you little smurf, we're going, we're going," he smiled as he ruffled the head of the little blue warlock.

"Oh, right, Alec," Magnus raised his hand and behind the blue glow of smoke surrounding his hand, he conjured up what looked to be like car keys. He handed it to Alec and he immediately recognized the logo etched on its body.

"Did you rent this just for tonight? Can't we just Portal through?"

"You know I don't trust Portal-ing with the baby," Magnus replied. "And no, it's not rented, it's yours."

"No way. Magnus, I can't—" but Magnus cut him off with a kiss.

"Darling, no more arguments before a party," said Magnus as he pulled away from Alec. He then took Max from him and carried him in his arms. "I don't want us to look stressed when we waltz in there. We have the image of a perfectly perfect family to rub in people's faces."

Alec was still a bit dumbfounded about everything that just happened. All those surprises in one night seemed to be too much for the Shadowhunter. But Magnus liked it whenever he leaves Alec dumbfounded.

"Now come along, Alexander, I don't want us to be later than fashionably late," Magnus was already out the door and was being playful with Max who was giggling his little heart out. "My little blueberry must steal the show, yes you will, you're going to be just like your papa when you've grown."

Alec eventually broke out from his daze. He followed them out and went on their way to the Institute.

The party had already started by the time they rolled in the Institute grounds in the sleek black Maserati GT Convertible Magnus had just given him. Though the streets were lined with snow, luckily it wasn't snowing that evening so they were able to ride the car with the top down. Alec might have wanted to argue with Magnus about it earlier but driving it now let him warm up to the idea of owning it. Max seemed to have enjoyed the ride as well as he sat on Magnus's lap in the back of the car. Everything seemed to be going smoothly on its own that Isabelle had the time to come out and meet with them. Simon was with her of course and Jace and Clary followed too when they heard that Magnus, Alex, and Max were on their way. But it was really just an excuse for them to be able to leave the party even for a moment. Parties really weren't the same without Magnus in it.

Clary immediately walked over to Magnus who was carrying Max in one arm. Max was still bouncy and lively as he wrapped his hands around Clary's finger and patting his other hand on her head. Jace was in awe of the car that his parabatai drove and recognized it was the same one Alec kept talking about when they got back from their European redo trip last summer. Jace nearly flipped when Alec told him it was his Christmas gift and even Simon who wasn't exactly a car guy was impressed by it. The car conversation was cut when Isabelle broke in to reprimand Alec and Magnus for arriving late but immediately had a change of heart when the two showed off their rings. Isabelle practically leapt in to hug her brother and so did Clary with Magnus. They all said their congratulations but no one could say they were surprised. With the way things are between Magnus and Alec it was just the natural progression of things but it was still something nice to see especially on Christmas Eve.

As Magnus had expected and have willed to happen, there were a lot of eyes on him as he walked inside the Institute with Alec holding his hand and Max nestled in his other arm. No one would dare state for too long but he noticed the side glances and whispers as they walked through. Whether they were bad or good whispers he didn't particularly care, it boosted his ego pretty well either way.

He and Alec approached Maryse and Robert first who were in the middle of a conversation with some of the Blackthorns. Maryse was quick to ask for Max when they got close which Magnus obliged to and passed his little blueberry into his grandma's arms. It was Alec who excused his parents for a moment and brought them aside to show them their engagement rings. Maryse looked like she was getting overwhelmed that Robert had to take Max from her while she hugged Alec tightly. Like the others, they weren't entirely surprised by it but the rings really did make all the difference.

When all was finally said and done, Magnus conjured up the mountain of presents that were sitting back in his living room. The presents were all lined up around the base of the Christmas tree for his friends and family to open up later when the other guests have left. He made sure to conjure up the gifts in the homes of the others who weren't able to make it there that night like Jocelyn and Luke who decided to stay in together. As well as Maia and Lily who had hosted a different kind of party for the werewolf pack and vampire clans.

At the Beth Israel Hospital, Catarina finally had time to take a break from cheering up the kids who were stuck there for Christmas. She sat on her own in the breakroom having a snack and some coffee using a mug that said "Why So Blue?". She was on her phone to check the messages she couldn't read earlier and most of them were typical holiday greetings. The one that stood out and brought a smile to her face was a photo greeting of Magnus and Alec showing their rings and Max floating on his own next to them with the caption, "Happy Holidays from the Lightwood-Banes".

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #max lightwood-bane #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfiction #tmi fanfic #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

LOVER

SUMMARY: Of all the great loves he had, which was surprisingly few for someone who had lived as long as Magnus Bane had, he always meant it when he'd say he'd love them forever.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Etta, Alec Lightwood

also @ ao3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤCan I go where you go?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Can we always be this close?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤForever and ever.　

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK — December 1953

That nagging feeling of restlessness and anxiousness usually occurs when one is waiting on their dates for their first night out, not when you've been going out with someone for the past fifteen years. And if there were any feeling of restlessness and anxiousness to be felt that night it shouldn't be with Magnus Bane—cool, confident, Magnus Bane—and yet there he was feeling just that; only just a bit, in his mind mostly. He didn't feel it physically; no fluttering in his stomach, no fidgeting, no phantom itch to scratch. On the outside he was as calm and cool as he would always be but his mind was in quite a disarray.

He thought earlier that day would be the last he'd see of Etta, but she had a change of heart and thought it would be nice to spend a little more time with him. It was her decision to leave him, for good, and as strong of a woman as she was, this must have been difficult for her too. Magnus has prepared for this moment long before she decided, but it never seemed to get any easier. It was any minute now, any second now, and then it was finally goodbye.

“Were you just waiting out here?” came a woman's voice, breaking through his thoughts. It was Etta.

As soon as he heard her, he moved away from leaning against the wall by the flight of stairs leading to his loft.

“A mermaid kept flirting with me, it was rather annoying, not to mention the smell,” he replied with a smile.

He stood there, watching her as she took of her coat and gloves, revealing a midnight blue off-shoulder cocktail dress underneath. With a snap of Magnus's finger, blue smoke and light wrapped around Etta's coat and gloves and made it disappear and eventually popping up on one of Magnus's coatrack upstairs. She looked up at him, regarding him as she would always do whenever they'd meet. She loved seeing him wearing bold and exciting outfits no man in their right mind would wear, unless you were Liberace.

Tonight he wore a modest ensemble, well, as modest as Magnus could be at least. He wore a black suit embellished with gold art nouveau-like pattern all over. He wore a gold patterned silk ascot that had a ruby skull cameo pinned at the center. His eyes were lined dark like a pharaoh and of course, he wore a lot of glitter, like stardust painted around his eyes.

“Lovely as always,” she told him. His hand reached out for her and she took it. She walked up the steps and passed Magnus, letting her take the lead.

“How's Mama Flora?” he asked as they climbed up the stairs. “I'm surprised she let you go.”

It was kind of Etta to spend New Year's Eve with him in his world for the first time in all the years he'd known her. She was a family-oriented person, as well as everyone else in her family actually. Every special occasion needed to be celebrated and celebrated well, and every celebration had to be spent with family. Magnus was lucky enough to have been invited to some of her family gatherings over the years.

“Mama and the others were having a blast when I left. I'm surprised she did too, thirty-three years old and I still have to ask my mama for permission,” she laughed. “I said I'd be with you and she let me go. She really loves you, I guess.”

As if it wasn't hard enough that Magnus had to let go of Etta, he started to think about her family too. It was the first time that he didn't just fall in love with someone, but with their family as well. It would have been nice to be a part of that kind of family, he thought.

Up in his loft was a riotous and shimmering spectacle of black, gold, and silver. A vampire jazz band was playing an upbeat rhythm that kept everyone on the dance floor. He had been throwing parties like this for a while now, some time after Raphael left his care. Etta had been to a couple of them but Downworlder parties can be too much sometimes, even for Etta who used to jump from club to club with Magnus to dance the night away, but she was getting older.

A lot of people would glance or ogle at them as the two passed. There were always eyes on Etta whenever she'd come to Downworlder functions with Magnus. Aside from how stunning she'd always seem to look it was of course because of the unmistakable fact that she was a mundane. That or that she was Magnus Bane's mundane girlfriend. Despite the dangers mundanes would sometimes face whenever there are Downworlders lurking nearby, it would take a special kind of idiot to target any mundane closely related to Magnus, and it wasn't just because he was the host.

He thought for sure that that would be it for him and Etta when he told her the truth of what he was all those years ago. But after over ten years, nothing changed. She wasn't scared or repulsed nor did she find him more attractive or desirable for being who he was; she just kept on loving him the same way she always had for the past four years that time. Magnus immediately felt relieved, and then laughed at himself for worrying.

Any minute now and the new year was getting close. They didn't drink as much as they used to but they still laughed and had their share of fun, and of course, the dancing was the thing he looked forward to the most. By now the band has started playing a tune that's much slower and more intimate. There were no spaces between Magnus and Etta. He held on to her hand tight and had pulled her close to him like he would never let her go. Her head rested against his chest as they spun around, both their eyes closed, and their hearts wishing the night would never end.

“Magnus Bane,” she whispered like a wish, etching his name, his face, his scent, everything about Magnus, into her memory so she'd never forget him.

“I love you,” he told her. Forever, he promised.

Forever. Funny, that word was especially when you're immortal. But unlike some other immortal, Magnus actually meant that. Of all the great loves he had, which was surprisingly few for someone who had lived for over three hundred years, he always meant it when he'd say he'd love them forever. Even when their bodies expire or the memories become hazy, the love he keeps in his heart for them was just as immortal as he was.

Etta opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“I have to go,” she told him, but that was to remind herself that she had to too.

He stared into her eyes for a moment and then down to her lips. He wanted to kiss her. He would have and she would've kissed him back, he knew that. But they couldn't want that. A moment's passed and that was all they had. Still, he managed to chuckle and smile at her.

“Don't be a stranger,” he told her.

“Maybe I'll see you again,” she smiled. Someday, she promised.

They pulled away from each other and slowly let go of each other's hands despite not wanting to. She backed away, her eyes still on Magnus for a while before turning away to leave.

“Have fun without me,” he called out to her as he watched her back. “But not too much fun, that would be impossible without me.”

She turned around and waved at him, smiling, the last one he would see, at least until that fateful ‘someday’ that she promised comes.

Then the fireworks went off. He didn't even notice the crowd counting down to welcome the new year. His attention was all on Etta as she kept walking, further and further away from his reach until she disappeared into the crowd.

“I need a drink,” he said.

ALICANTE, IDRIS — September 2007

The fireworks exploded in a shower of sparks—sparks that painted the clouds overhead as they fell, one by one, in streaking lines of golden fire, like angels falling from the sky. But Magnus wasn't looking up, he was drinking a flute of champagne, looking over his glass, and right at the blue-eyed, dark-haired charmer from across the square.

Saying that a lot has happened in the past few days would be an understatement. There had been a war for one, with both Shadowhunters and Downworlders laying their lives, and charging into battle. It wasn't against each other, but together on the same side; they had his little biscuit, Clary, to thank for that. Not that everyone would likely want to seeing as some people's prejudices still overpowered their common sense despite their shared victory. Typical Nephilims, he thought, but took it back. Not all of them was like that of course, especially not Alec.

It might seem selfish of Magnus to think that the highlight of his week wasn't even the war—not that he particularly cared whether or not people saw him as selfish or self-centered—but the one that came before that. The kind of war inside oneself that he had witnessed Alec overcome for the past few weeks of knowing him and knowing him intimately.

If anyone were to tell Magnus that the pretty little Shadowhunter who a little over a month ago came all the way to Brooklyn, knocking on his door like a lost pup just to thank him and who would eventually ask him on a date was going to have the courage to kiss him in public he wouldn't believe it. Not just any ordinary public, oh no, but also in front of his friends, his family, other Shadowhunters and Downworlders, both known to them and unknown in the hallowed halls of the Accords Hall. If anyone told Magnus that, he would've thought they were delirious. And yet there was Alexander Lightwood, announcing loudly to the world without speaking a word that he wanted him, Magnus Bane, of all people. Not even Magnus could believe that that had happened but it did, he was in the thick of it, he felt it, and he was certainly not going to forget it.

Well played, Alexander, he thought, well played.

“Magnus!” came a man's voice, breaking through his thoughts. It was Alec.

“Are you alright? You were just staring at nothing.”

“That's ridiculous, I've been staring at you,” he smiled. “And you're everything to me, my darling.”

“Oh,” Alec's face flushed. Magnus's playful words was something the Shadowhunter was still trying to get used to. Magnus was aware of that and he wasn't going to let him get used to it; he was prepared with a tome of words he would use against Alec to make him flush.

“You're missing the fireworks, is anything wrong?” Alec asked.

“Bah, amateurs, I could make better and prettier fireworks with my eyes closed,” he told him and it made Alec laugh a little.

“I was thinking,” Magnus began. “After all that's happened, I was thinking about going on a little well-earned vacation.”

“You're going on a vacation? When will you be back?”

“Not just me, but you too. How about going out of the country for our first date?”

“Our first date? Didn't we... Haven't we been dating?” Alec asked, confused. He was certain they were dating, unless there were things he missed about this whole dating thing.

“Have we? I seem to recall you saying several times before that we weren't dating.”

“Wait, no, you know that was—I'm sorry,” Alec said in a panic. He looked at Magnus chuckling and he let out an exhale, feeling relieved.

“I'm only teasing,” said Magnus. “I mean our first official date now that you're more, well, free.”

“Right.”

“So, first date ideas then, Paris? Venice? Berlin? How about an entire European trip?” he asked then he took a sip from his champagne flute.

Alec smiled. He reached for Magnus's hand and said, “I'll go wherever you go.”

The glass that Magnus was holding was engulfed in the blue flames that came from the warlock's hand, sending it to a table somewhere nearby. He locked his fingers as he held onto Alec's hand. Magnus smiled at him as he raised his other hand to bury his fingers into the Shadowhunter's dark hair and leaned in for a kiss. Magnus felt Alec shiver a bit in surprise and it made him chuckle between his kisses, which did nothing to help the Shadowhunter's poor heart.

“I love you,” he told him. Forever, he promised.

Magnus had a feeling he would be enjoying his time with Alexander Lightwood, his darling, his light, his lover.

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAll's well that ends well to end up with you,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSwear to be overdramatic and true to my,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLover.

ㅤ

#malec #but like not entirely so i hope you don't mind that #magnus bane #etta (the mortal instruments)#alec lightwood #the mortal instruments #the bane chronicles #tmi fanfic #tmi fanfiction #river writes crap

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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years

Text

ENCHANTED

SUMMARY: In 1938 Magnus comes across the most enchanting woman he has ever seen in that century. He promised her that she would see him again and that they would dance for however long she wanted.

RATING: G

CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Etta

also @ AO3

ㅤㅤThis night is sparkling don't you let it go.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ I'm wonderstruck blushing all the way home.

ㅤㅤI'll spend forever wondering if you knew,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI was enchanted to meet you.

ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK — 1938

When one has lived for as long as Magnus Bane had lived, rarely does anything ever feel new. All his "firsts" in this century would often feel like a rehash of another set of "firsts" he'd experience the century prior. Most of the time, he doesn't really bother himself too much anymore with the finer details; the names and faces might change but the experience and feelings have become all too familiar. Unless of course on the rare occasions when they're not, and such was the case that night at the Quellcrist Club.

The booze kept flowing and the band was playing some lively jazz music. It filled the heads of the Quellcrist patrons who let the music take over their feet and bodies. There were no miserable faces in the club that night even though most of them were likely not as gleeful as they seemed to be. It truly was like any other club in Brooklyn except for the fact that it was one of the few clubs out there that welcomed a melting pot of people, not just the white ones. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have met the most enchanting woman Magnus has ever laid his eyes on in the last century.

Magnus had seen her by chance a few times in the Quellcrist before and some other time in other clubs around the area. Though he has seen her a few times, he only felt an infatuation towards her the last time he saw her. She was singing then, a bittersweet melody that disrupted his mind and kept him up all night that night. The first thing he did the morning after was to find the record for the song she sang, but not even the original singer could compare to the golden voice that has enraptured Magnus Bane. It was then that he decided that the next time he sees her, he would come up to her and let fate decide where it would go, he was hoping it would turn out well of course, but if not, well, better luck the next decades or so.

She wasn't singing or playing the piano on stage this time but she was with some girl friends dancing the night away in a flowing golden beaded dress that perfectly emphasized her beautiful dark skin. She was a pretty little live wire, that much he knows. Always sprightly, always a smile on her face, as she sings or plays the piano, sometimes even the saxophone if she was feeling great. Even now on the dance floor too, she was all smiles and Magnus couldn't hear it through the music but he assumed her laughter was just as delightful as her singing. If he didn't know any better he would assume she would be one of the fair folk, with a voice like that and looks to match, but she seemed to be far kinder to be one of them.

As the band shifts their tune from an upbeat tempo to a soulful slow jazz and some patrons moved their way towards the bar and tables to rest their feet and have a drink, Magnus saw this as an opportunity to approach her. There were many eyes who followed him or took a gander at him as he did so. It was difficult for anyone, mundane or not, to not look at Magnus Bane, especially not with the cerulean blue patterned suit he was wearing and the shade of glitter painted around his eyes that were in a similar shade of blue.

When Magnus reached her, her girl friends were giggling as they left her with him. She looked up at him confidently, unfazed at the attention he has drawn to himself, and now to her as well.

“Enjoyed the show? I’ve seen you looking, mister,” she smiled. “I was wondering when you'd come up for a little chat.”

“Was I obvious?” he asked, as if he didn't let his presence be known to her on purpose.

“It was hard not to notice you on account of your...” she pulled back and looked him up and down, a smile drawn across her face. “Well, everything about you.”

“Glad you noticed,” he smiled. He presented his hand for her and asked, “How about a dance, darling?”

“What, my dancing ain't a show enough for you, mister?”

“I was hoping we could put on a show together.”

She held out for a moment and he looked at her, amused, as her brilliant hazel eyes regarded him. Finally, she reached for his hand. She was the one who pulled him to the dance floor with her and Magnus was pretty much happy to be dragged around by her. He knew how to dance, an important skill to learn if he were to woo just about anyone, but next to her he almost felt helpless.

The way she looked at him, smiled at him playfully, and the way she moved her body to the rhythm of the music, moving around him before closing in the space between them. She leaned her back against him as she made small movements, slinking her body sensually. She rubbed her shoulders against his chest before facing him and reaching for his neck and wrapping her arms around him. His hand wandered around the small of her back in return while the other hand reached for her face, gently caressing her cheek at the back of her fingers. She smiled at him as she reached for the hand that touched her face and slipped her fingers in the spaces between his. They weren't the only ones dancing on the dance floor that night, but it sure felt like it.

They finished their dance shortly before the band played another upbeat tune. She had pulled him to the side, in a corner of the club where they could hear each other. She sat on a seat by the bar while he stood in front of her, leaning against the bar as his arm rested on the surface.

“I hope you won't mind my frankness but I think I may have fallen for you a little bit there, mister,” she told him, smiling as she gazed at him fondly.

“Just a little bit?”

“Just a little bit,” she affirmed. “ For now.”

It was what he wanted to hear, he thought, and all the while reminded himself that she was a mundane. He was aware of what this would mean eventually but it was quite difficult for Magnus to distance himself from mundanes or to entangle himself with their ever so fleeting lives. Mundanes may not be born with the blood of demons or angels, but there was still something inexplicably fascinating about them. One would think that after years of passion, infatuation, lust, and the inevitable heartbreaks he would have known any better, but that was a lesson he has yet to learn as an immortal being. So he told her,

“I hope you won't mind me saying but I may have fallen for you as well, even before the dance.”

“Well, aren't you a sweetheart.”

“No, truly, I have,” he replied. Magnus hummed and sang the song he'd heard her sing before, the one that enchanted him and kept him up all night.

“I sang that song at the Cotton Club, a couple o’ weeks ago,” she was surprised to hear that.

“You wouldn't leave my head after that,” he smiled.

“Let’s sort ourselves out in the morning,” she told him then stood up from her seat.

“Are your feet rested?” she asked, offering her hand for him.

“Again?”

“You better get used to it, mister,” she replied. Magnus happily took her hand and went back to the dance floor with her.

Her name was Etta, he learned after they left for the club. They had been too preoccupied with the dancing, the drinking, the laughing, and more dancing that both have forgotten to ask for each other's names. She had drunkenly introduced him to her friends as the love of her life, it was in jest, but Magnus couldn't help but feel delighted by the sound of that. She laughed when he told her his name, she thought it couldn't be a real one, it sounded like a name from a fairytale.

He walked her to her home and in their walk they've managed to sober up a bit and talk more, about music, the stars, each other. He promised her that she would see him again and that they would dance for however long she wanted. She agreed and their dance went on for about fifteen more years or so after that night at the Quellcrist.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK — 1978

Magnus fell in love all over again with Etta after he told her the truth of what he was and his world. With no more secrets between them, they would fall deeper in love with each other in each passing day and in every year that passed until eventually she couldn't be with him anymore; she needed to go and he had to let her go.

When they parted all those years ago, Magnus took it upon himself to stop seeing her. Sometimes he would send letters and gifts but he never saw her again, not when she finally had the family she'd always dreamt of having. Neither of them had fallen out of love; he knew that she knew that he loved her even when the time came that they had to part. He wished she remembered that, but she couldn't anymore. It was painful to see her and not recognizing who he was but it wasn't anything he couldn't endure. He regretted not seeing her after the last letter she'd sent to him, he didn't know then that that might have been the last time she could ever remember his name or his face.

Still, he would visit her at the nursing home whenever he can. He visited her again that day and he was lucky to have caught her in a bright mood because he was able to dance with her again. Magnus mostly did much of the moving while she leaned against his body for support. He held her close, carefully hugging her frail body as they danced. Her presence and her touch felt familiar, warm, nostalgic.

“Thank you, my darling,” she told him as they danced. “You remind me of my husband. Oh, how he would always shine, and glitter!”

Magnus almost teared up. She would sometimes do that, recalling memories of him but never really recalling him. She may have forgotten him but Magnus would like to think that he was still there somewhere in her thoughts, now faceless and nameless and obscured behind a haze, but still there, always with her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤI was never in love with someone else

ㅤ��ㅤㅤㅤㅤI never had somebody waiting on me

ㅤㅤㅤ 'Cause you were all of my dreams come true

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ And I just wish you knew,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDarling, I was so in love with you.

ㅤ

#magnus bane #etta (the mortal instruments)#tmi fanfic #the mortal instruments #the bane chronicles #this was the first one i wrote!#the last roleplay i did was set around the same era so i thought it would be an easy transition to write something new in a familiar settin #river writes crap

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