answer to any conflicting ship situation: threesome
Camille watched the warlock as he told her that he was just speaking his mind. Yes, she was fully aware that he held some bitterness towards her and she supposed she deserved it. No, she knew she did, but admitting that she deserved it was another story. Camille didn’t do well with admitting her wrongs.
"You’ve always been different," she replied. He was the first person she had loved after Ralf’s death and she had never gotten over him.
“I will just take that as a compliment,” Magnus announced nonchalantly. Isn’t that what you liked about me? he wanted to ask, but decided not to. This was not the right time to talk about the past. Maybe the right time to talk about what had happened between him and Camille would never come - but who knew? They had the rest of eternity left to find out.
“Although..” the warlock added after a short pause, “I guess it depends on your definition of normal.”
His eyes closed and once again, Alec took a calming breath. He rubbed at his arm, which was stained with demon ichor. “You don’t need to stitch me back up. I’m more than capable of healing up, Magnus. Magnus, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I assure you that I know what I am doing. I’ve done this for years.” He frowned. “I’m not proving anything to anyone. I’m doing my job.”
A small, bitter huff escaped Magnus but he refrained from speaking what came to his mind in that moment. Instead he shook his head lightly and looks back at Alec. “Your runes can’t save you from everything, Alexander.” Did Alec really not get it or was he just actively fighting him at this point? It wasn’t that Magnus didn’t want to help Alec; to use his potions on him or use up all his energy to make sure that he’d survive the night. He would do all of that without even thinking about it, if it meant saving the other’s life. What he didn’t want was that it was necessary in the first place. There were only so many time you could see the person you loved covered in blood and bruises, smelling like death and fear and decay.
Magnus nodded while Alec spoke, but the shadowhunter’s words weren’t really reaching the inside of his head. “Well, if you are sure about that, then I guess I’ll just have to learn how to deal with it,” Magnus replied sourly, turning away from Alec and walking over to stand by the window instead. He felt bad for talking to Alec like that, but in this moment he couldn’t help himself. The fear of losing his loved ones had alway brought out the less desirable sides of him.
"Try me." Raphael waited for the answer patiently, and he got it. He bit his lips while thinking about the warlock’s intentions, but didn’t break eyecontact. "Of course, that could be the truth. Or you could tell this to me to make me uncomfortable… which is not working, so if that’s the case, you can just tell the truth now."
Of course Raphael didn’t believe him - what a surprise. Magnus still wasn’t sure he had entirely spoken the truth, but for now he was just going to stick with it. Simon or Raphael? Neither, actually. But if he had to choose.. at least he knew Raphael a little bit better. He had seen him at his worst and probably at his best, and they had shared a place to live, that had to count for something.
“You don’t believe me? What’s the point in saying anything else about this? You’ll never be sure that I am not lying to you for some reason,” Magnus replied, cheerfully.
“Why do you want to know so badly? You’ll always be my favorite vampire, don’t worry.” Or not.
Golden eyes blinked once, twice, three times in recognition, a soft mwwaawwwrrr slipping from mouth. The sound elongated, his body stretching out, out, out, until the figure before the warlock was no longer a cat, but a young man with the same eyes as the cat. They remained slitted like that of a feline, and glowed unnaturally from where the sat in his face.
“We meet again, Warlock. What brings you to the Institute this day?”
Even for a warlock like Magnus, one who could perform a transformation like that himself, it was fascinating to watch Church’s elegant, slender form stretch into that of the young man that represented the other half of him. Magnus’ lips curled up in a smile as he slowly raised his chin so his eyes could follow those of the former cat.
“Nothing all too unpleasant this time,” the warlock replied and gave Church a small nod. “I am just having a little issue with the newest addition to your host family and I was hoping to speak to Jace Wayland about it.”
“Is he present?”
“I’m never drinking scotch again—”
[She grumbled to herself, leaning over her bedroom window seal and letting the cool morning air wash over her. It couldn’t be but 5 or 6 in the morning, and she was trying to keep her misery quiet.]
“That,” Magnus said with a loud and clear voice while walking up to Clary, “is probably a good idea.” She was leaning dangerously far out the window in the bedroom Magnus had let her occupy the night before and although she seemed a lot more sober than four hours ago, the warlock wasn’t willing to risk having a teenager fall out of his window to her death. Placing his hands on her shoulders carefully, he pulled her away from the window and back to the bed.
“Maybe it’s better if we stay away from windows, open fires and dangerous object for now, okay?” Magnus hated having uninvited overnight guests, but since this was Clary he had made an exception. That, and none of her friends had agreed to carry her home after she had passed out on Magnus’ couch and after throwing the other party guests out, he had simply been stuck with her unconscious body. Apparently Jace Wayland was just a good friend as long as you were conscious and able to entertain him. Magnus knew why he usually didn’t invite Shadowhunters to his parties.
Taking a step away from Clary, Magnus let out a small sigh and cocked his head to the side, his arms akimbo. “As much as I enjoy company on certain occasions, I would appreciate it if you could gather your things and leave my place, now that you are back from the dead and the crazy.” The confusion on her face said more than a hundred words ever could and Magnus started dreading the conversation that was about to follow. Clary not only looked like she didn’t know where she was, she also looked like she had no clue how she had got here - and that usually meant questions that demanded answers.