Work Header


Chapter Text



The last time he had seen his husband with hair down and it was not after shower or a short moment after he just woke up, Magnus was lying on a brink of death because of the borrowed magic so no one could blame him when Alec walked inside their home and saw Magnus wearing less colorful clothes with hair down on the forehead, he panicked.


“Magnus, what’s wrong?” Alec dropped everything, marching to the warlock until he cradled that beautiful face between his palms. “Are you feeling unwell?”


Magnus blinked. “What? No -- I’m fine, Alexander. Do I look bad?”


“You rarely style your hair like this. I just…”


“Oh, this?” Magnus touched the tip of now soft hair, Alec did the same. “It’s Isabelle and Lucian, they believe I have to at least try to disguise myself so I decided to go with this.”


“For what, exactly?” Alec frowned in confusion.


“Clary.” Magnus avoided meeting the eye for a second. “I saw her yesterday. She looked…bored.”


It had been two months since their wedding and the lost of Clary’s memories about Shadow World. Jace ran to them, face soaked with tears, a letter in his trembling hand. Izzy was the first to follow him outside the church to get Clary. Alec and Magnus were right behind those two. They found her walking down a concrete pathway by the main street. She turned back to them but her eyes stared past through.


Because she could not perceive them anymore, just like how she had been for almost eighteen years of her life back when her mom had Magnus removed the her memories, she looked around, not understand why her cheeks were wet nor why she dressed like she had just attended a wedding but ended up standing alone with only abandoned church nearby.


She looked without seeing her lover, friends, and family even though they were so close to touch the trail of her tears. Alec had to stopped Jace while Magnus and Izzy holding each other. Clary searched her dress. When she pulled out her cell, Alec and Jace used their speed runes to go back to Simon and prevented him from answering the call. When they took the Daylighter outside, Clary was sleeping on the ground with Magnus’s hands hovering over her, checking what Raziel left for Clary to live on with.


Clary understood that her mom was already dead, no Luke, Simon was a childhood friend she hadn’t met since tenth grade, and Dot quitted the job and moved to another town long before Jocelyne’s death. Magnus couldn’t just let it be so he created new memories. Clary was now a resident of the apartment above Maryse’s bookshop as the woman insisted. Jocelyne left her fortune, she could afford art school now.


None dared check on her, not Jace, not Izzy, not him. This was the angel’s judgement.


Alec shouldn’t feel surprised that eventually, the prince of Edom decided to flipped angel the bird. “It’s ridiculous.” Magnus murmured as he adjusted the dark shirt. “So they were fine when a mass murderer was this close to wipe out entire species, or Lilith and Azazel roamed earth, or when Jonathan on killing spree, but they decided to interfere and punish Biscuit for creating alliance rune? Sir, your racism is showing.” His husband talked toward their loft’s ceiling.


“I’ll go with you.”


Magnus paused. “Alexander, I don’t think--”


“She’s your Biscuit and my Headache. I’ll go with you, I want to see how she’s doing as well.”


“If she’s your Headache, what is Samuel?”


“Constantly on Thin Ice. Let’s go.”



Clary sighed, she felt uninspired that it was extremely weird she couldn’t remember how she dealt with a feeling like this before. Artists are constantly with art block, she knew, but Clary swore she wasn’t experience this for the first time yet something was really out of place so she had no idea what to do.


“It’s beautiful.” A soft voice spoke, startling the red head out of her boredom. She looked up and found a beautiful Asian man looking at her sketchbook with sparkling interest.


“Thank you.”


“But you don’t seem like you’re satisfied with it.”


“It’s just,” Clary picked up the sketchbook to glare at the picture of a man crouching on some rooftop with white wings covering his back but the face was empty. “The missing face is not intentional, you know?”


“Oh, I thought it was artistic subtext.” He chuckled.


At first Clary had impression he was going to hit on her, but his eyes looked at her work warmly it reminded her of this kind lady who owned an old bookshop on the first floor of the building Clary lived. The lady always had this warm expression when she talked to someone on the phone, someone dear.


So she tore the paper out. “If you don’t mind, you can have it.” She handed the paper to the man. “Oh, wait, I’m going to have to come up with something for my art school’s showcase in ten months, if you still remember me and this, I hope you come and check it out.” She drew the paper back to write her name and the location of the exhibition. It wouldn’t be too early to find a potential investor. “I’m Clary.”


“I’m Magnus.” Magnus accepted the drawing. “And this is beautiful. Can I buy a talented artist new cup of coffee or sandwich?”


Eyeing her own empty cup, Clary sputtered shyly. “You don’t have to.”


“I want to since it looks like you’re going to be here all evening.”


“How can you tell? I might get up any minutes.”


“You have this look of a bored artist on your face. Before you know, you’re going to spend hours finding motivation before deciding to get home, better do it with warm drink for a cold day like this.” Magnus winked teasingly.


“Hot chocolate then.” Clary got out of the chair. They walked to the cashier together.


While waiting in the line, Magnus made a small talk that had Clary laugh at almost everything he said. He was funny and had quite a way to tell stories. He looked young but his words sounded too experienced it made the red head think of a wise old wizard in a fantasy novel.


Then a new employee came to tend at cashier and take their orders that Magnus coughed so hard as if he was choking his own spit. Clary thought she heard another coking noise from behind too but there was no one in the line after them or near them at all.


“Are you alright?” The woman, gorgeous woman, with long black hair and red lips, asked Magnus sweetly. She wore big glasses, too big for her face. Her neck had some kind of black twisted line tattooed on.


“Yes, dear, you just…look like someone I know very well.” Magnus recovered.


“Oh, how well?”


“Like we just had dinner together yesterday with her brother, who is my husband.”


Clary watched their exchange, wondering if she had just stepped into some inner circle’s joke.


Somehow the word ‘husband’ caught Clary attention. “You’re married?” She perked up for no reason she could pinpoint. They stepped aside after Magnus done paying for their drinks. He tips generously into a jar.


Magnus showed her the ring. Clary frowned, not understand how come she hadn’t noticed it sooner since it was the only accessories on Magnus, or why she felt like he should wear more accessories, and glitter too,


“Only for two months, but I felt like we have known each other longer than that and ready to know more, no matter what may come.”


“That’s so perfect.”


“How about you?”


“Oh, no, just few friends from college.” Clary dismissively answered as they walked back to the table. “How did you two meet?”


“He saved me. Back then, he might say he was only doing his job but I have witnessed a lot of people not doing as many things as he has done under the name of duty. He and his siblings have beautiful unique souls but his pulled me in the most, like it unlocked something in me. He’s kind, brave, full of love. Our relationship is not perfect but he always comes back to me ,for me, and he lets me come back to him, I believe that's what made it beautiful.”


Magnus left hand touched his right shoulder, at first Clary felt like he was touching someone’s hand there but she just shook it off and believed that despite his smooth voice adoring his husband proudly, Magnus only got a bit shy and hugged himself to control the smile.


“I wish to find someone like that, someday.”


“You will.”


Clary wanted to shrug. She didn’t, she just continue. “I don’t think I mind how long it will take, just some sign to tell me I’ll meet them is alright. I mean, I can wait, and hope they can wait for me too.”


A tears dropped on the back of her hand. Clary suddenly found her lips tremble. “Oh my God, I don’t know why --” She tried to stop but tears only came out more and turned her words into sobs. “I’m sorry -- you must think --”


“It’s alright, Biscuit.”


When Magnus hugged her, Clary sensed a familiarity blossoming at the bottom of her heart.


Magnus didn’t hug her tightly, it didn’t hurt, however, Clary felt like she was being hugged by many people, by someone confident, fierce, and caring, by someone big but had the softest heart, grumpy exterior, and determined love,


By people who loved her as a family.


When the tears finally stopped, Clary wiped her cheeks.


“The hot chocolate is really a good choice.”


She laughed. “You’re absolutely right, I wonder when will -- Oh.” The cup was already on their table.


It looked disastrous though, like it made by someone who could weaponize food.


“I have to go, but I’ll definitely go to this exhibition.” Magnus slowly got on his feet, Clary’s drawing in one hand, his drink which looked even scarier than her hot chocolate in another. “See you, Clary, ah, one thing.” Magnus turned the drawing to Clary. “Does this work have a name?”


“Oh, I didn’t…”


Clary’s gaze lingered on the unfinished face.


“I’m not good with naming thing, can you do it for me?”


Magnus hummed, turning the sketch back to himself. “I’m gonna call him Blondie then, see you later, Clary.”


Clary nodded, willing herself to focus on a new blank page. She heard a bell over the café’s door as Magnus must have walked outside --


“Wait -- I didn’t even draw the hair or put any color in that sketch.” Clary turned, hoping to catch a sight of Magnus on a pavement since the door just swung back to its place.


Magnus was nowhere to be seen.



Izzy took the drawing, promising to give it to Jace after his training with Simon was over. “Are you two certain the angel won’t punish you two? I’m a Downworlder, but isn’t Raziel’s words are sacred and never expired for his Nephilim unless they change their mind on the matter later?”


“Raziel doesn’t send a word to us on how to deal with this.” Izzy shrugged. “They might want Clary to face the punishment alone but this is not the punishment, this is the result of it.”


“This is how we cope, and obviously me hiding myself and Izzy disguising as mundane don’t count as outrightly trying to jock her memories back.” Alec, the champion of technicality, supported his sister with stubborn nod.


“I just wish we could do more.”


“I know.” Alec pulled Magnus closer to kiss his beloved’s forehead. “Maybe not today, but someday, either Clary wins over angel again or we find a way, she’ll come back. There’s a reason I dubbed her my Headache and I already have Izzy and Jace as my siblings.”


Izzy swatted Alec’s back with the paper. Magnus snickered against the taller man’s neck.


“If Clary is Headache, what am I, and what is Jace?”


“You’re Forever Banned From Kitchen. Now go give that drawing to my Reason I Always Need Paracetamol and pray to Ithuriel your hot chocolate is not going to kill Clary before she gets a chance to come back to us.”