#Fic: Catarina Loss

[alexanderlightweight]

I was going through all of the writings that you have posted and rediscovered the Kelpie au. So if you have more of it that has not been posted, can we have another taste? I just love it

oh gosh so most of kelpie!au hasn't been posted because it's at like 20k and it's mostly smut.

so i'll have to post to ao3 and post links here probably

here we go! i picked something some that file with Cat & Alec since i wasn't sure if you wanted nsfw/sfw and i've only posted sfw for that fic so far i think

its finally named undertow because @saeths insisted

lumine

-

Brunch relaxes again and Cat thinks she could get used to this again, seeing her family happy and being happy with them

Later, when it’s more night than day and Ragnor has convinced Magnus to follow him to his library, Cat sits alone with Alec. 

“Tell me?” She asks quietly, hoping he will. Normally she would ask Magnus directly, but she never wants to put that look on his face again. 

“I’m not really sure I understand it. It doesn’t make sense to me. I mean I don’t know why Magnus does most things.” Alec pauses and takes a slow sip of his drink. .

“I’ve been mostly eating the foods Magnus is introducing me to, but it’s not quite the same. Most of it is delicious but it’s not filling. So he hunted me a meal, took me to a lovely little grotto and insisted on watching.

“It didn’t go well?” Cat asks in surprise. “Magnus has never been squeamish.” 

She, Ragnor and Magnus have all participated in the deep rituals. They’ve all eaten still beating hearts and cracked the bones of the Elders to suck down the marrow and claim the power in them. 

Alec scoffs and shakes his head. “No, he was actually pretty excited at first. And then I got about three bites in and got a mouthful of ash for the fourth. He disintegrated the body and dragged me home and then kissed the taste of blood from my mouth for hours before he let me sleep.”

Cat blinks. 

This is not the problem she was expecting.

“He tried to explain it. Something about how he can’t stand me being so intimate with anyone else.” Alec actually snorts, a dry sound, “apparently, even if it’s a corpse. Which is normally fine. Except eventually I’ll need to eat and it’s going to upset him. He’s already upset that he ruined my meal. He just also doesn’t regret it, which upsets him more. I think maybe he’s not used to having so little control of himself.”

Cat blows out a breath and looks across to where Ragnor and Magnus disappeared.  

“I’ll look into it, see if I can’t find something that will help keep you healthy until Magnus figures it out.” 

Alec shrugs, like it doesn’t really matter to him. 

“I don’t really mind. Magnus is the one who is really suffering.”

“Oh?” Cat asks with a raise of her brow and Alec grins, a mischievous little grin that just oozes smugness.

“No more blowjobs for him. I can’t control my instincts when I’m this hungry and neither of us want to risk his cock. He’ll break and find a way around it before I get too hungry. 

Cat laughs and shakes her head, relief flooding through her.

“Alright then. I’ll send over some tinctures and supplements. They’ll keep you healthy until this gets worked out. Ragnor and I will intervene if needed.” And they would, because to keep Magnus safe and sane, they needed Alec healthy and whole. 

Alec looks at her carefully and then he smiles, his-too-sharp-too-many teeth gleaming and Catarina remembers suddenly that he too is a predator.

And he chose to be prey. 

“Thank you, Catarina. But we’ll be fine. Magnus will figure out his instincts sooner or later. I’m very good at waiting.”

There is a wealth of hidden meaning and Cat nods, looking at Alec with a new light. 

“Call me Cat.” She offers, the first time she has and Alec nods, respectfully acknowledging the change. 

He reaches out and presses his knuckles to hers gently, “I’m Magnus’ Alexander, call me Alec.”

Magic sparks between them and Cat smiles as the magic of names settles smoothly between them.

Alec withdraws his knuckles and raps them against the second, empty glass with a sigh.

“I liked this one. Which one was it?”

She summons a new one and tells him. Alec takes a moment to stare at the glass in betrayal before he picks it up with a sigh.

“Magnus is going to be obnoxious, just so you know.” He warns and Cat smiles at the dry humor in his tone.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I  liked the barley tea.” Alec rolls his eyes, “Magnus is going to take this as inarguable proof that he’s right.  Next thing I know, he’ll be trying to make me oats and molasses again. And I don’t think I’ll get away with accidentally knocking it off the balcony this time.” He gives her a morose, pathetic look. “He put up wards the third time I accidentally knocked food off. Apparently it landed on some mundane and nearly killed him. But Magnus was more worried about why I was being so clumsy than the mundane. I told him it was allergies and now he won’t even let me go to the park without warding me for protection… against pollen.” 

And Cat laughs. She’s still laughing when Ragnor and Magnus rejoin them. The pair are red cheeked and bright eyed and Cat knows they’ve had a delightful and scathing disagreement about literature.

Ragnor is clearly pleased to see her happy and Magnus flutters like a hummingbird. He presses a delighted kiss to her forehead and hugs her from behind for a moment and then darts over to Alec. He’s hovering around him, little tiny constant touches and Alec merely leans into them, smiling up at Magnus with a softness that transforms his face. 

Her boys are doing well and Cat finds she doesn’t mind adding another to the number she claims. 

Not this time.

[intheyellowandgreen]

the seas be ours

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Shadowhunters. Words: 30,601. Pirate AU. Malec. 9 chapters

Summary:

When Magnus agreed to kidnap someone from their home from his father, who may or may not be going insane if you ask other people, he never realised where this journey would take him. With highs and lows and disasters in between, Magnus and everyone around him will be tested. It's time for him to stand up for what he believes in.

Beta: @fixation-central

Artist: @cam-ryt

[secretly-a-catamount]

Malcabel WIP I guess

(They’re all horribly out of character in this, but I want them to be happy, god dam it! And I almost certainly misspelled Tavy’s name, but that’s just dyslexia for you. @lescahiersdesable)

  It was all Catarina Loss’s fault really.

  “Honestly, Malcolm,” the sky blue warlock had told Annabel’s husband when he’d called her positively panicking about being in charge of her (many times removed) nieces and nephews for a day, “why don’t you and Annabel just take the kids to the beach?”

  Trusting his friend’s judgment more than his own had been a rather terrible idea, Annabel thought amusingly as she watched the blond warlock race down the shoreline, waving his arms like a mad man, shouting that under no circumstances were the children to poke at that beached jellyfish with a stick, yes, Tiberius, even if it was already dead.

  After some whining (the children) and some poorly concealed begging (Malcom), the Blackthorn kids dispersed into the water and across the sand.

  Malcolm trudged back up the beach, and stood at the edge of the shade thrown by the umbrella stabbed into the ground.

  Annabel looked up from her drawing pad, her black brows furrowing in irritation at the shadow her husband had abruptly cast over her sketchbook. “You’re blocking my light.”

  His pale skin flushed a delicious raspberry red as he stammered out an “Oh, right, sorry” and moved to sit beside her on the blanket, smiling sheepishly. After a moment of comfortable silence, Malcolm absentmindedly ran his hand down her arm, stopping only to trace the black lines, curves, and whorls of her Runes. His touch was soft and light as a feather. “What are you drawing?”

  “You obviously.”

  “Obviously.” A pastel sketch of Malcolm in his striped bathing suit, looking tall and thin and almost frail, with softness to his frame and features that matched his disposition. A feint, salmon-pink sunburn on was his face and shoulders, and his lips were cracked (Annabel would solve that one way or another, either by the gifting him the tube of chapstick she’d squirreled away in her purse or by kissing him until he couldn’t breathe).

  “The kids.” Ty and Livvy and some golden-haired Mundane boy that Annabel didn’t know chasing a seagull. Mark and Helen teaching Tavy how to build a sandcastle. Dru, Julian, and a different golden-haired child that Annabel didn’t know, this one a Shadowhunter girl with a spill of bright curls and a practice training sword, diving into the ocean and swimming around in the shallows.

  “Church.” The fat, blue feline crouched down in the dunes, fluffy tail held erect, eyes focused on a mouse in front of him, mere seconds away from a pounce that Annabel knew would end in failure.

  “The L.A. Institute.” An imposing building that Annabel didn’t think could ever have the ability to look homely.

  “Home.” A snapshot of their living room, a Polaroid pinned with a paper-clip for reference, Malcolm’s latest draft of the Codex — her illustrations not yet accompanying his neat, meticulous writing — spilling off the end table onto the soft, red couch, one of Annabel’s favorite mugs (which would always be filled with tea, Annabel and Malcolm both hating the taste of coffee) filled with paint-streaked paint brushes and colored pencils.

  “And my first love, the sea.” Cerulean and cobalt-blue waves crashing to the shore.

  “Should I be jealous?” Malcolm had moved from her arm to her hand, gently interlacing their fingers together.

  “Oh, immensely. Definitely.”

[edwinspaynes]

I really want to see Matthew and Catarina interact more. She seemed so fond of him at the Academy, and we've barely seen them talk. I think we've only seen them engage one (1) time in CLS and that's it. How does she know him enough to visibly soften when she talks about him a century later? I know that to know Matthew is to love him, but I'm sure there's more to that story. I like to think that they had some hog-wild adventure together in a faraway country, maybe with Magnus as the glue holding them together, and just never talked about this insane bonding experience again

[themimsyborogove]

catarina/ragnor + 20? <3

💙💚💙💚

20) a kiss on a scar

——

As a general rule, warlocks didn’t have scars. Most warlocks were competent in at least basic healing magic, which was nearly always good enough to heal all but the most grievous of injuries without a trace.

But warlocks had long memories. Catarina’s fingers traced feather soft over the unmarked skin where Ragnor had once fractured his arm so badly, the bone had broken through the skin. Down to his hand, where there had once been a line of deep scratches left by one of Magnus’s more foul tempered cats. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss against his temple, where another warlock he had been on unfriendly terms with had caught him off guard in the Shadow Market and thrown some kind of noxious, burning potion in his face. If Catarina hadn’t been with him that time, he might have lost an eye.

Catarina had patched him back together so many times over the years, injuries big and small, with no trace left behind but the memories.

Her hand pressed against his chest, over his heart where there was nothing left of a magical wound that she hadn’t been there to heal. Ragnor wondered if she could still put what was left of him back together again anyway.

[foodsies4me]

April Malec fic rec!

Thanking @just-add-butter and @ariella9melody for this month's theme which is a double combo of "Outsider's POV" and "Let Alec have friends!" The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Enthrallment by @smilebackwards: Magnus' magic being possessive and warlocks reacting to Magnus' magic being possessive, what more could you want? OC POV!

Summary:

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic. Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

And I am breaking my own rules by rec-ing a second fic by smilebackwards: Portable Magic

Summary:

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering. Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression. Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

I'll die on this (Under)hill by @clottedcreamfudge: like all of the fics written by clottedcreamfudge, this fic is downright hilarious. That said, poor Underhill. Underhill POV!

Summary:

The point is, Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood clearly have an intimate knowledge of each other, and it has never once impacted on their work. What it is beginning to impact on, however, is Andrew’s sanity. Because apparently he really is the only one to have noticed it.

Be careful with my best friends heart by TheLostLightwood: A fic in Cat's perspective, who I maintain is one of the best characters in the series and we needed more of her! Cat POV!

Summary:

Catarina Loss had known Magnus for a long time, she had seen him cry, laugh, mourn, get injured and fall in love many times before. But she had never seen him more in love or more broken than she had in this moment. Cat's POV, as Alec is seriously injured in a fight against demons. And Magnus well he...

Alec's Little Ducklings by @to-the-stars-writing (this will be one of two recs for to the stars because I am being very bad at keeping to my rules this time around). Alec gets hurt and all of his friends appear to take care of him!

Summary:

After Alec's hurt coming home from the Hunter's Moon, he's left laid up in bed when the drug they gave him prevents his injuries from being healed by angelic or magical powers. Magnus is fully prepared to do take care of his stubborn boyfriend, only to find out that there are a few other people who are more than willing to offer their help.

the right thing by @cuubism: As the summary says, Alec's first speech as the Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned. Izzy POV!

Summary:

Alec's first speech as Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned.

nock. draw. release by chaidrivenwhore: A non human POV, but a weapon POV! Alec's bow to be specific!

the bow and arrows had tempted many, but this specific one, with its curved limbs engraved with angelic runes and sharp arrows, straight and unbending, had called out to a nine year old alexander lightwood like no other had.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor, a recommendation made by @ariella9melody that I can only agree with because this fic is wonderful (as are all fics my MonPetitTresor).

Summary:

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with nowhere else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

ask the always impossible of me by @faejilly: Some very nice Aline and Alec friendship!

Summary:

Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible... And that's just the beginning.

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing: I love how Stars depicts Alec's struggles with his mental health and there are a lot of friends for Alec in this one!

Summary:

For a long time, Alec had felt like his life was held together by strings tied on him by the Clave, his parents, his siblings. Strings that pulled and tugged him in every which direction, heedless of the bruises and blood left behind. As much as they hurt, some days they’d been the only thing to hold him together. That is, up until the moment Alec stood on the shores of Lake Lyn and faced the death of the one person who held a piece of his soul, and the lies that followed his mysterious resurrection. There, on the shores of Lake Lyn, those strings finally pulled too hard, and Alec broke. With the permission of the Inquisitor, and the help of the warlock who Alec had wanted so desperately to allow himself to fall for (and had been terrified to do more than smile at his flirting) Alec walked away from everything and everyone. He left New York behind and made himself a home in the small town of Prayer – a joke Magnus found particularly funny. But, two years after that fateful night, Alec’s old life comes knocking, and those strings he thought he’d finally cut are tugging him home. Back to the place he never wanted to have to see again. At least this time, he’s not facing it alone.

[malec-ao3feed]

Pride Tape

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/pk1IMm6 by Mandulabogesz Anyone who follows me on Twitter or Instagram knows that I promised a oneshot before my multi-chapter Hockey fic, so those of you who are not familiar with hockey can get to know some terms. I was planning to post this during Pride Month, but life happens and I finished it today. In the first "chapter" I'll just explain a few terms. For those of you who are familiar with hockey, feel free to skip it. The actual fic starts with chapter 2. Have fun. Words: 4128, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane, Luke Garroway, Clary Fray, Catarina Loss Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Hochey Player Alec Lightwood, Coach Magnus Bane, Hurt Magnus Bane, The Pride Tape ban in NHL, pride tape, Pride, Falling In Love, First Meetings, gay love story, Happy Ending, Because I Promised You A Fic To Know About The Hockey Terms, Oneshot, Malec AU, Malec, Shadowhunters - Freeform, No beta we are Lightwoods and face the consequences, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Magnus Bane Is a Nice Thing, Alec Lightwood Is a Nice Thing, Coming Out, Coming Out_Professional Athlete, Hiding, Closeted Character, Closeted Professional Athlete read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/pk1IMm6

[drusilla-carstairs]

As part of my 700 followers celebration (I AM also working on that Malec fic) I am going to be doing a TSC characters poll bracket for the next few weeks! Below the cut I’m including a list of the 64 characters I’ve decided to include. Let me know if there’s anyone I’m missing, and the first round of polls will be posted Sunday!

1. Clary Fairchild

2. Jace Herondale

3. Alec Lightwood

4. Simon Lovelace

5. Izzy Lightwood

6. Magnus Bane

7. Tessa Gray

8. Will Herondale

9. Jem Carstairs

10. Charlotte Fairchild

11. Henry Branwell

12. Gideon Lightwood

13. Gabriel Lightwood

14. Jessamine Lovelace

15. Cecily Herondale

16. Sophie Collins

17. Ragnor Fell

18. Cordelia Carstairs

19. James Herondale

20. Lucie Herondale

21. Alastair Carstairs

22. Thomas Lightwood

23. Christopher Lightwood

24. Matthew Fairchild

25. Anna Lightwood

26. Ari Bridgestock

27. Grace Blackthorn

28. Jesse Blackthorn

29. Sebastian Morgenstern

30. Maia Roberts

31. Raphael Santiago

32. Catarina Loss

33. George Lovelace

34. Lily Chen

35. Emma Carstairs

36. Julian Blackthorn

37. Cristina Rosales

38. Mark Blackthorn

39. Kieran Kingson

40. Helen Blackthorn

41. Aline Penhallow

42. Ty Blackthorn

43. Livvy Blackthorn

44. Kit Herondale

45. Dru Blackthorn

46. Tavvy Blackthorn

47. Diana Wrayburn

48. Ash Morgenstern

49. Rafael Lightwood-Bane

50. Max Lightwood-Bane

51. Max Lightwood

52. Tatiana Lightwood

53. Malcolm Fade

54. Anabel Blackthorn

55. Valentine Morgenstern

56. Shinyun Jung

57. Thaïs Pedroso

58. Jaime Rosales

59. Diego Rosales

60. Anush Joshi

61. Mina Carstairs

62. Church

63. Oscar Wilde

64. Chairman Meow

[glossydrama]

The Weight of My Stare - a malec fic

Tags: Enemies to lovers, no strings attached, office au, magazine au

Alec and Magnus don’t like each other. As simple as that. They argue and don’t talk to each other unless it’s either about work or a sarcastic remark. And that’s okay. Sometimes people don’t get along. Alec thinks Magnus is too self-centered and arrogant. Magnus, as he likes to remind him when the possibility arises, sees Alec as the most annoying piece of hot ass ever. And that’s it. That’s them. And that’s probably never going to change.

Alec Lightwood

Magnus Bane

Jace Herondale

Simon Lewis

Catarina Loss

Ragnor Fell

Raphael Santiago

Isabelle Lightwood

Clary Fray

Tessa Gray

[shadowhuntersficrecs]

Hey there,

I'm looking for a specific fic, and maybe you can help me, because it drives me insane.

I don't know the titel anymore, but it was on ao3. In the fic Imogen Herondale deruned Alec and broke the parabatai bond between him and Jace, and he cant remember the Shadowworld anymore. A friend of Magnus finds him, and they all try to get his memorys back and figure out what happend. It was really heartbreaking and fantasic.

I hope you can help me. Thank you :)

Hi, I found a fic that fits the description of what you're looking for, but it's locked so you'll need to have an account on ao3 to be able to read it.

--

Exile (147277 words) by Marchling Chapters: 26/26 Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood, Clary Fray, Catarina Loss, Imogen Herondale, Jia Penhallow Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Deruned Alec Lightwood, Homelessness, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, (Light and Not Between Tagged Couples), Hurt Alec Lightwood, Parabatai Bond, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Not Really Character Death, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Mild Suicidal Thoughts, Broken Parabatai Bond, Jace Wayland is a Lightwood, Amnesiac Alec Lightwood

Summary:

Imogen Herondale hated Alec Lightwood.

Everyone from Jia Penhallow all the way through Jace himself knew of her animosity towards the person that she felt held her grandson back from the all that the Herondale name deserved. Despite this, Alec never thought she would actually move against him because to hurt him was to hurt Jace.

He had been wrong.

Now, Alec had no runes. His memories were gone. He had no idea who he was, why there was a ragged wound inside of him that he couldn't see or how he had gotten to this abandoned apartment in San Francisco.

All he knew was that monsters were tracking him and staying alive might take more strength than he had.

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

That whole hiadt chapter 2 scene where the interns get smacked down by THE Dr Loss will live in my archives of top 10 greatest fic moments forever.

She really said ‘ you gonna learn today’ with her full chest.

Magnus Bane might own this hospital but Catarina Loss runs these wards 🙃

I also love that scene. Catarina Loss does not have a single fuck to give to assholes. And yes, she really does run the hospital

[alexanderlightweight]

I feel slightly greedy prompting three weeks in a row, but I just read the new chapter of Elysium's Tears that you uploaded to a03 and it is utterly incredible. To put it lightly.

If this plot bunny inspires you at all, I would absolutely adore the chance to read a snippet in that universe of Ragnor and/or Cat seeing Malec together for the first time - just the sheer craziness of them seeing a nephilim, one of the Clave's most valued treasures, not to mention the whole Lightwood thing, happily collared and kneeling at their best friend's feet, casually informing Magnus of secrets the Clave would straight-up murder to keep while just ... nibbling mango from his fingers.

(That was a very long run-on sentence, apologies. Also, I was mostly just going for vibes not specific plot points in that promptlet. Also, again, three weeks in a row so feel free to ignore ❤️)

hey Laws, feel free to prompt every week and you know i love vibes! this was a lot of fun and definitely is going in the next chapter of elysium's tears though i'll probably need a magnus redecorating his loft scene at some point lol. this is cat's pov because it was more fun that way! i hope you enjoy it! thank you for prompting

lumine

-

It’s been nearly three weeks since Magnus all but dropped off the face of the world.  Normally, Cat wouldn’t be so concerned if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been asking for her help securing an absurdly long list of rare potion ingredients.

It’s with a case of beer and a box of snacks that she portals over to his place, only to be gently redirected by the interior wards.

The primary wards still allow her access, but she’s portaled into what Magnus was once planning to use as a greeting hall. She wonders just what spell, potion or sex experiments Magnus is conducting that require such an elaborate and delicate array.

It’s with growing amusement that she taps her foot and counts out just how long it’s taking Magnus to respond. The amusement turns to concern when she feels Magnus’ magic reach out with intent, demanding she prove her identity to him in a way he rarely feels the need to use.

It’s without a second thought that Cat reaches back, letting Magnus weigh her soul against his knowledge of her and his magic presses against her, almost in relief.

“Cat—” Magnus murmurs and his voice is hoarse and he looks tired and worn but smug.

Magnus looks victorious, in a way Cat has never seen before.

“You’re okay?” She asks, because that will always be the first and most important question. Anything else can alway wait.

“Oh Cat, I’ve never been better.”

—

The amount of layers and traps that she has to step through is intense and Cat resolves to make Magnus visit her until he’s finished with whatever he’s doing.

“Alexander is resting at the moment—” Magnus is murmuring though he’s quite forgotten to explain just who Alexander is. It could be anything from a weekend frolic to a new snake or a stray cat that Magnus has gotten attacked to.

“And Alexander is?” Cat asks leadingly but it goes nowhere because Magnus just barks a laugh, a sharp, dark noise of pure avarice.

“He’s mine Cat, in a way I didn’t think could ever be possible.”

Magnus opens the wards and finally lets her through the last step and Cat walks in and stares. Magnus’ entire loft looks different, a fortress on the outside and an oasis of luxury on the inside. There are chaises and sofas and thick rugs with plush cushions and throws. It looks decadent and soft in a way Cat doesn’t normally associate with Magnus.

On one of the thick rugs, shirtless and dappled in lurid bruises and golden sunlight, a young nephilm lays sleeping. He’s aesthetically pleasing and is defined in a way that says he is heavily trained and very capable.

Cat waits for a moment, trying to understand how three weeks could possibly have turned into something like this and then she sees the nephilim wake up. Unfairly long lashes flutter and Cat sees a glimpse of icy blue, and then she sees it.

Lines upon lines of hoarfrost blue, the silver of an angelic power Cat only barely managed to witness and she understands exactly why Magnus’ lair is warded so thoroughly.

“How did you get him here?” Cat finds herself asking because it’s one thing for Magnus to try and lure in a nephilim curse with Elysium’s Tears. Magnus would think nothing of seducing such a person, not if it would give him a glimpse of something to look forward to.  It’s the layout, the way Magnus is covetously watching his Alexander’s every breath.

Something else is going on beyond a glimpse of what could be.

Magnus walks over and kneels, reaching down to kiss Alexander’s sleeping for, biting his lip until the bluelight fade and he groggily nuzzles into Magnus’ chest.

“Lovely, I’d like someone to check you over. Hmm, sweetheart?”

Magnus’ voice is soothing and sincere and tinted with a jagged edge of possessiveness.

“Oh—” hazel eyes blink at her, awareness growing. “Cat, then? It’s early to meet her. This isn’t normally one of her days off.”

It sends a chill up Cat’s spine to hear such a remark, especially when the only reason she’s free is because she used magic to get the day off.

BEcause she wanted to check on Magnus.

“All the better, Alexander. A fresh start for you, another difference to what you saw.”

Cat finds nothing truly wrong with him, besides the fact that whatever horror resides in his body and eats away at the future is a ravenous beast.

“He needs to eat more.” Cat murmurs, low because Magnus’ Alexander only stayed awake long enough for Cat to finish her work and now he stretched out across Magnus’ lap. His long legs thrown over the sofa arm and his face burrowed into Magnus’ stomach.

“Alexander does have a habit to miss meals when he dreams.”

Magnus gives her a pointed look and Cat knows exactly what he means.Then he rubs his hands through curls and tugs on them until he’s being pouted up at.

“A snack, Alexander.” Magnus croons, like he’s taming and rewarding some fierce, snappish beast. “Try, for me.”

His boy is exhausted, from the dreams or whatever left the bruises across his body Cat doesn’t know. She does watch, surprised as Magnus summons a bowl of frozen mango. His boy whines at the cold, unable to bite into it and insstead he licks and suckles from Magnus’ fingers. It takes him and agonizing amount of time each piece and his lips and swollen from the cold and from the way he’s making obscene, slick noises, his tongue must be numb as well.

Magnus doesn’t seem to notice how amorous their actions are. All of his focus is on his Alexander, feeding him each piece in such a cruelly intimate manner. It takes forever, the sun stretching high and falling low and then Magnus’ boy falls back asleep, suckling the juice from Magnus’ fingers. Magnus chuckles, something dark and ravenous as he presses his fingers even deeper into his boy’s slack, trusting mouth.

“He’s so good for me—” Magnus is murmuring, almost as if besotted and enchanted and there’s something feral in his tone. “He brought me information that has me, for the first time, ahead of my father.”

The shock of it hits Cat like a glacier pool and she copartmentalizes quickly, locking it away as she tries to focus on Magnus.

“So you’re

“I have all of my magic back again.” Magnus bares his teeth in a snarled grin, “ those pieces I sacrificed to hold him in Edom, it’s all been returned to me. We struck a deal, rather than have my strength be tamed by chaining him.

“Incredibly.” Cat finds herself saying, “I’ll let Ragnor know. You’ll tell us, when you’re ready?”

Magnus nods and leads her back to the entry hall and then he pauses and as she’s about to step through her own portal he interrupts the silence.

“I didn’t find him, Cat.” Magnus lets out a sigh, wonder in the hoarse edge of his breath. “He came to me. Surrendered himself to me and let me stop him from leaving, let me keep him and bind him and he adores me for it. Would worship me in gratitude because he knows I will never let him go.”

Cat nods.

This is all they’ll need to speak of, for now.  She’ll check on Magnus on and off, check on his boy as well, but in the meantime she’ll let Magnus lay his webs and string his boy up and so tightly bound that he can’t even blink without Magnus knowing.

After all, it’s what makes Magnus happy.

[the-great-lightwood-bane]

(and if i couldn't walk) i'd crawl to you

Chapter 2 of 2 (Chapter 1)

Malec | Rated general | tw blood and injury

Day 24: Blood Covered Hands | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Summary: Magnus didn’t know how he could survive losing Alec.

A close call with a demon brings some suppressed emotions to light, and Alec surprises Magnus yet again. (aka I make Malec immortal, again.) 

A/N: I wasn't planning to continue this but I decided against the fic I was considering writing for the 24th, so I wrote this instead! (psst Stubbrn this is for you) 

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Jace’s message saved Alec’s life. 

Magnus had caught it out of the air while in his apothecary, eyes scanning the bare lines for barely long enough to understand the meaning before he was building a portal and running, sprinting along the street towards the prone figure at the mouth of an alleyway. His mouth formed Alec’s name as he recognised the torn patrol gear, the stretched-out arm. 

Alec was breathing, chest rising and falling although far too slowly, a pulse fluttering at his neck. 

His stomach was torn open, blood pulsing out and pooling beneath him, a trail of darker dried blood leading back to a mess of ichor and blood at the back of the alley. Magnus’ magic wrapped around him without thought, without pause, without hesitation — its only goal was to heal the gaping hole, to ease the pain. He’d never specialised in healing magic, but now he willed the jagged edges together with all the power he could muster, an inefficient healing but an effective one. The ichor burns and smaller scrapes that covered Alec’s skin faded under the sheer force of magic. Only when Alec was stabilised, his breathing regular although his eyes were shut, did Magnus let the magic dissipate and take in the scene. 

Judging by the amount of ichor, there must’ve been at least twenty demons killed here, most of them presumably at Alec’s hands. Arrows, an impressive arsenal of knives, and at least three seraph blades were scattered in the ichor; Magnus flicked his fingers to summon the weapons to him. There was Alec’s bow, unstrung and dripping ichor as though several demons had been impaled on it. His stele, broken in the fight. 

Magnus eased Alec into his arms, cradling him against his chest. Magnus’ hands were covered in blood, Alec’s blood, from his clothes and from the ground; it’d been the blood loss more than the injury itself that’d sent Alec unconscious. The blood-replenishing potion Magnus kept in stock would come in handy. 

He summoned a portal back to the loft. 

~

Hours later, after Alec’s siblings had come and gone and Catarina had confirmed that Alec was fine and would wake up soon enough — with a glance at Magnus that told him she knew exactly how much extra energy he’d put into healing Alec properly — Magnus finally sat down at Alec’s bedside, the breath whooshing out of him. 

He took Alec’s hand in his, feeling the beat of his pulse in his fingers, the warmth of his touch. It was a much-needed reassurance; he’d been downright terrified for a continuous half hour between getting Jace’s message, rushing to Alec’s side, and healing him. Unnecessary adrenaline was still pounding through his veins, whispering about what might have happened, what had almost happened, what could happen sometime in the future. The might-have-been, the almost, the what-if. 

Magnus didn’t know how he could survive losing Alec. 

The worst part was that, one day, he’d have to. Alec hadn’t died today, but he was still a Shadowhunter on active patrol duty, and it was part of who he was to risk himself. Even if Alec lived into old age, he’d still die one day, like every mortal Magnus had ever loved — except that Alec was more than anyone else he’d ever loved. 

Shaking his head to clear it of his morose thoughts, Magnus snapped himself into pyjamas and climbed into the bed, curling his body protectively around him. 

Alec would die one day, but he’d lived today, and that was what Magnus needed to focus on. 

~

Magnus was still curled around Alec, fingers running through his hair, when Alec stirred and leaned deeper into Magnus’ chest with a soft sigh. Magnus didn’t stop stroking Alec’s hair, waiting for Alec to wake up fully. 

“Good morning,” Alec murmured, eyes fluttering open, a smile pulling up his lips. Magnus felt himself smile in response, an instinctive thing born of relief and love. 

“Good morning, love. How are you feeling?” 

Alec didn’t immediately say “fine”, which was a good sign that his response was genuine and not an automatic denial that anything could be wrong. “Better,” he said at last. 

Magnus’ magic was already winding around Alec’s injury, clearing away any lingering pain. Alec hummed and relaxed even more into Magnus’ arms. 

Looking at him like this, calm and happy and safe, Magnus was torn between two impulses: the soul-deep love that he wanted to sink into, and the fear of losing all this, pulling him back and away. 

Alec’s eyes blinked open again, as though he’d somehow caught the faint shift in Magnus’ emotions, and he focused on Magnus’ face, brow slightly furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Magnus said, and then regretted it because that was precisely what he was trying to train Alec not to do. Alec raised an eyebrow. 

“I just — I was terrified,” Magnus confessed quietly, a bit of a half-truth but accurate all the same. “I thought — for a moment there, I thought I’d lost you.” 

Alec’s eyes softened and his hold on Magnus grew firmer. “I’m here. I’m alright.” 

“I know,” Magnus replied, shaking his head. You won’t always be, he wanted to say, but that would help nothing. 

“If you know that,” Alec said, “then why are you still looking at me like I’m going to vanish before your eyes?” 

Magnus shut his eyes and turned his head away as though that could help him hide from Alec. “It’s nothing. Residual fear.” 

“This is more than that,” Alec said, still quiet, still gentle, still uncompromisingly loving. “Talk to me, Magnus. When things get tough, don’t push me away.”

In a breath, Magnus’ walls fell, and even though having this conversation could help nothing, the words spilled out anyway to stain this moment like ink. “You survived yesterday, but you won’t always survive. You’ll die one day, of a demon or of old age or of anything else, and there is nothing I can do except ward that moment off for as long as I can.” His eyes were still shut, but he could feel tears leaking out of the corners. 

“You’ve lost people before,” Alec whispered. “You can lose me, Magnus. You can go on.” 

“I’ve never lost anyone like you.” Magnus opened his eyes at last to meet Alec’s, unglamoured, more vulnerable than he’d been with anyone else. “I’ve never loved anyone like you, Alexander, and I don’t know how to go on without you.” 

Alec cupped his face in one hand, cradling it like Magnus was the most precious thing in the world. “I don’t — I’m not that special, Magnus.”

Magnus let out a half-strangled laugh. “You are everything, Alexander. You are special, you are unique, you are more to me than anyone else. I don’t want to do this anymore, living with the knowledge that you’ll leave me one day through no fault of your own. It’s worth it, to have you now, but it breaks my heart every time I think about it, breaks my heart in a greater way than anyone else ever has. I want — I want a hundred selfish things, and the most selfish of all is that I want never to lose you.” 

There was an uncertainty, a disbelief, in Alec’s eyes, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend the reality of meaning more to Magnus than anyone else had before. More than that, though, there was something more like pain, like the ache in Magnus’ soul reflected back in Alec’s eyes. “I don’t want you to lose me, either,” Alec whispered. “It’s not selfish to want that.” 

He didn’t understand what Magnus meant. Shaking his head, Magnus traced patterns down Alec’s back. “I mean that I don’t want to ever lose you. Not today, not tomorrow, not in a hundred years, not in a thousand. I’m selfish enough to want you for my forever, not a mortal lifetime, because I can never have enough of you.” 

“I know what you meant,” Alec said, certainty on his tongue. “And I want it, too.” 

Magnus sat up quickly enough that Alec couldn’t hold him. “You don’t mean that. You don’t actually mean that. Nobody in their right mind would want that, Alexander, and I can’t hear you say that as though things could be anything but what they are.”

Alec sat up as well and caught hold of his arm. “I want to become immortal, Magnus, to stay with you as long as you’ll have me. I want it, and if that makes me out of my mind, then I don’t see much value in being in my right mind. I want that, Magnus.” 

For a still moment, Magnus watched him, cataloguing every expression of his face in expectation of finding a lie there, an uncertainty, a naïvté about what he was signing up for. 

There was nothing but love for him to find, and Magnus fell into his arms like his strings had been cut, like Alec was a star to pull him in. There were tear-tracks on his face, and he cradled Alec gently to protect the place where he’d been injured, and they still hadn’t talked about the practicalities of becoming immortal — but Alec wanted this, and that was everything. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered into Alec’s chest, curling around him while Alec held him close in a reversal of their earlier positions. “Don’t leave me, Alexander, don’t you ever leave me—”

“I won’t,” Alec said, soothingly, calmly, an oath that wrapped around Magnus like the warmth of Alec’s arms. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

Magnus let himself believe it.

[secretly-a-catamount]

A collection of all current Malcabel fics that have been written by me, because i’m insane about them (positive) and have been debating which one I should work on next

Currently Untitled | Finished Beach Fic

  It was all Catarina Loss’s fault really.

  “Honestly, Malcolm,” the sky blue warlock had told Annabel’s husband when he’d called her positively panicking about being in charge of her (many times removed) nieces and nephews for a day, “why don’t you and Annabel just take the kids to the beach?”

  Trusting his friend’s judgment more than his own had been a rather terrible idea, Annabel thought amusingly as she watched the blond warlock race down the shoreline, waving his arms like a mad man, shouting that under no circumstances were the children to poke at that beached jellyfish with a stick, yes, Tiberius, even if it was already dead.

  After some whining (the children) and some poorly concealed begging (Malcom), the Blackthorn kids dispersed into the water and across the sand.

  Malcolm trudged back up the beach, and stood at the edge of the shade thrown by the umbrella stabbed into the ground.

  Annabel looked up from her drawing pad, her black brows furrowing in irritation at the shadow abruptly cast over her sketchbook. “You’re blocking my light.”

  His pale skin flushed a delicious raspberry red as he stammered out an “Oh, right, sorry” and moved to sit beside her on the blanket, smiling sheepishly. After a moment of comfortable silence, Malcolm absentmindedly ran his hand down her arm, stopping only to trace the black lines, curves, and whorls of her Runes. His touch was soft and light as a feather. “What are you drawing?”

  “You obviously.”

  “Obviously.” A pastel sketch of Malcolm in his striped black-and-white bathing suit, looking tall and thin and almost frail, with a softness to his frame and features that matched his disposition. A faint salmon-pink sunburn covered his face and shoulders, and his lips were cracked (Annabel would solve that one way or another, either by gifting him the tube of chapstick she’d squirreled away in her purse or by kissing him until he couldn’t breathe).

  “The kids.” Ty and Livvy and some golden-haired Mundane boy that Annabel didn’t know chasing a seagull. Mark and Helen teaching Tavvy how to build a sandcastle. Dru, Julian, and a different golden-haired child that Annabel didn’t know, this one a Shadowhunter girl with a spill of bright curls and a practice training sword, diving into the ocean and swimming around in the shallows.

  “Church.” The fat, blue feline crouched down in the dunes, fluffy tail held erect, eyes focused on a mouse in front of him, mere seconds away from a pounce that Annabel knew would end in failure.

  “The L.A. Institute.” An imposing building that Annabel didn’t think could ever have the ability to look homely.

  “Home.” A snapshot of their living room, a Polaroid pinned with a paper-clip for reference, Malcolm’s latest draft of the Codex — her illustrations not yet accompanying his neat, meticulous writing — spilling off the end table onto the soft, red couch, one of Annabel’s favorite mugs (which would always be filled with tea, Annabel and Malcolm both hating the taste of coffee) filled with paint-streaked paint brushes and colored pencils.

  “And my first love, the sea.” Cerulean and cobalt-blue waves crashing to the shore.

  “Should I be jealous?” Malcolm had moved from her arm to her hand, gently interlacing their fingers together.

  “Oh, immensely. I’m definitely leaving you for the ocean.”

  Malcolm’s laughter was interrupted by a shriek of pain.

  With a quickness that could belong only to a Shadowhunter, Annabel leapt to her feet. Heart hammering, she scanned the beachfront with frenzied eyes, her fingers itching to pull the wickedly-sharp daggers from the sheath she wore on her ankle . . .

  There — there was no danger present other than one of the children perhaps twisting their ankle. It hadn’t been a scream of pain, but a shriek of childish delight as Dru and Julian teamed up to toss the golden-haired girl — Annabel wanted to say her name was Emily? — into the shallow waves with a mighty splash of saltwater.

  Collapsing to the ground as quickly as she’d risen, Annabel scrubbed at her face, her eyes starting to sting with tears. This was how it always was whenever she and Malcolm left home, whenever they left Cornwall. She would be fine, and then she wouldn’t be. She would be fine, and then she would have a breakdown. Blood splattered against her lips and — blood?

  She wasn’t bleeding, her ruined hands barring no scraps or marks (although plenty of Marks), but she had a sinking suspicion of who was.

  “Ouch,” Malcolm said, “I think you grabbed my hand just a little too hard.” He smiled — why the hell was he smiling, she’d gouged her nails into his skin until he bled, she’d hurt him, she’d hurt him — moving to sit beside her on the blanket once again. His purple eyes darkened from the pale petals of violets to polished chips of amethyst with worry.

  “Are you hurt?” He took her hands in his own, turning them over gently and examining them, his head bent. Shadows and sunlight caught on the strands of his white hair.

  “No. But you are.” She yanked her hands out of his grasp and ground her teeth together, telling herself that she was not going to cry in front of the children (who were not remotely paying attention).

  “It’s fine, darling, really.” A flash, a spark, and pale light wove between Malcolm’s fingers until it looked like he held a burning star in his cupped hands. The scent of his magic — burning cinnamon and crisp snow and freshly spilled ink — reached her nostrils just in time for his flesh to knit back together.

  Drawing her knees to her chest, Annabel buried her face in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut so hard her skull hurt. I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him, I—

  Annabel barely heard as Malcolm got to his feet and shouted to the children that they needed to leave. She could barely hear anything over the dim in her head, the memories threatening to drown her. The clashing of wolves’s teeth, her father carving off her fingers, her sister crumpling dead to the ground from the blow she dealt to her temple with a fire-poker. She could still taste her husband’s blood in her mouth, she could still smell her sister’s blood, she could still feel her blood flowing from wounds made by her father’s knife.

  A wave curling around her ankle, Annabel was being dragged out to sea by a hated, if familiar, riptide. She was treading water, but she was so tired of fighting to live, of fighting for the right to live. She stopped for a moment to rest her too-tight skin and weary bones, and then she was drowning.

  She was drowning.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Canon Divergent AU

  Her hair black, her skin white, her eyes blue and green and gray and all the colors of the ocean that swallowed men whole with little regard to their flimsy, mortal lives: Annabel Blackthorn was dead.

  Wearing angelic brands, the barred teeth of a wolf, laughter, complacency, and lies, drawn tight around her like a cloak, like a shield, like a funeral shroud: Annabel Blackthorn was dead.

  White hair and purple eyes and a whisper of her name as the last words on his lips, she had died months ago when they had looped a noose around Malcolm’s neck.

  She had died, but her body still wasn’t where it was supposed to be. She had died, but her body did not rot in the grave, did not decompose under the crust of the earth. She had died, but she had not swung — they would not let her. Her family had been ruined from when she had tried to flee with her beloved, a suicide would be inconsolable to their reputation.

  So they had arranged for her to be married to her cousin and shut away in one of their houses far away from Cornwall, far away from even Idris, as if she were mad, as if she was dangerous, as if she was deadly.

  They were right, of course, one of the few things they were ever right about. And they didn’t even know that they were right, they underestimated her, they always had, that would get them all killed.

  She was the mad girl — and she was a girl, barely past eighteen — who shattered a looking glass with her coiled fists and used the jagged-edged shards to cut lines and whorls into her skin. They took away everything sharp after that — or, at least, away from her, a Shadowhunter family never being able to not have weapons on hand.

  She was the dangerous girl who mixed rat poison in her sister’s wine. This sister, youthful and kind as she was, had been the one to sell out Malcolm and Annabel to their parents, had been the one to release the wolves who tracked them down, had been the one to physically restrain her when they executed Malcolm. They fired the rat catcher after that — wrongly thinking he had committed the killing as a product of jealousy from being born a Mundane.

  She was the deadly girl who, when the party was over, when the sky was as black-and-blue as the the bruises her cousin left on her thighs and hips and arms, straddled her husband, fitted her hands to the curve of his throat, his pulse beating beneath her fingertips, and squeezed, a Strength Rune etched on the deceptively delicate-looking wrist hidden underneath one of her billowing sleeves. She did not know what they would do when they found out — she did not intend to live that long.

  Thrashing like a netted fish, he clawed at her fingers, her hands, and her arms. Crimson blood splattering into his mouth and eyes, drowning and blinding him as he died. His cries for help were silenced into choking, wheezing gasps.

  He fought. Annabel fought harder.

  She lingered for a moment before slipping to the floor.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Soulmate AU

  The First Mark, as they were called, carried from birth on the skin, where a gift from the Angel. A way to lead his children along their path to their soulmate, a way to bred better Shadowhunters, birth better warriors.

  And as everyone knew, decrees from the Angel could not be challenged.

  They were Law.

As the World Burns | Unfinished AU

  “So, that’s it than? We’re all fucked?” Annabel Blackthorn stood at the counter, shoulders set, taking her anger out on the wilting tomatoes spread across a dented cutting board, her posture as perfect as a taunt piano wire. Outside the window the sky was black as pitch and completely starless, almost as it knew what was coming, almost as if it mourned for the thousands of lives that were going to be lost. Innocents, slaughtered by his hands, his magic, his inventions.

  “I don’t — I can’t . . . I’m so sorry, Annabel. So, so sorry.” Malcolm nearly collapsed to the floor but managed to catch himself on the edge of the counter at the last possible moment. His briefcase clattered to the stone tile, emptied of everything that had made it important just hours earlier.

 She softened, as she always did when he spoke, and abandoned their last dinner, pulling him into a soft embrace. Malcolm stilled under her touch, his breathing slowly evening out. He wasn’t safe here, he wasn’t safe anywhere, not anymore, not in so, so long, but he was safe with her.

  Together they collapsed to the floor.

Currently Untitled | Unfinished Vampire!Annabel AU

  “No, please!” the woman said fearfully, “Don’t hurt me!” Her dark eyes desperately tried to find something in the swallowing darkness.

  “Now, now, my svelte beauty,” purred the creature as it slipped out of the shadows, “no need to make a fuss.”

  It was a man, with sharp, inhuman teeth, pupil-less eyes, and unnaturally pale skin. He wore a black cloak with a high collar and a blood-red gemstone clasp. He spoke with a foreign accent.

  The woman screamed as the monster grabbed her by the shoulders and sunk his fangs into her throat. Blood splattered against her white dress as she struggled, shrieking for mercy, then suddenly, with a burst of strength, the woman—

  “Don’t worry, kid, there’s not enough blood in your veins for any one of us to want to do that to you.”

  Kit jumped. Heart skipping a beat at the abrupt appearance of a girl — who looked around nineteen, and quite obviously a vampire, which was weird because he thought vampires weren’t allowed in the Institute thanks to the Shadowhunters’ magical racism — he spat out a string of profanities, and then said, “God, you scared me.”

  “Nothing to do with God here. Creature of the Dammed and all that.”

  He blinked, not sure what to make of her joke, and then decided to focus on the more pressing matter. “Who the hell are you? How the hell are you here?” He tightened his grip on the dagger he’d liberated from the Blackthorn’s weapons-room.

  “Now that’s more in my wheelhouse.”

  The girl neatly sat herself down on the couch beside him. Her movements weren’t particularly inhuman, but the sword that hung from her hip certainly was. The blade was sleek, long, and almost delicate-looking. Seemingly made from the same material that the Shadowhunters’ special knifes were made from — some sort of crystal-metal alloy that belonged exclusively to the Shadowhunters, because they’re just so good at sharing, Kit thought bitterly — the sword shone subtlety, while the black runes inset into the blade.

  “I’m Annabel Fade, the Head of the L.A. vampire clan.  As for why I’m here, I need to talk to Emma and Julian. Do you know where they are?”

  “They went on a patrol.” Kit answered, turning the dagger in his hand over and over as he talked, a mindless, repetitive motion that brought him comfort. “But how are you here, like, in the Institute? I thought—“

  “Auntie Annabel!” A shrike, a blur, and Annabel was engulfed in the littlest Blackthorn’s embrace.

“You came! You told me she wouldn’t, but she came.” Tavvy clung to Annabel’s black leather biker jacket like a determined octopus as she moved to give Livvy — who’d just come into the room with a ridiculously giant tub of popcorn in her hands — a one-armed hug. Standing next to Livvy, who wasn’t by any means particularly tall, Kit realized that Annabel was actually kind of short.

  Livvy accepted the hug, stuck her tongue out at Tavvy, and said, “I didn’t say she wouldn’t come, I just said it would be hard for her to. ‘cuz of the warding.”

[riveriafalll]

WIP Introduction!:

we'll never get free (lamb to the slaughter)

Artemys Raine was prepared for many things. She had fireproof boots, enchanted blades and an extended magical backpack full of enough supplies to last her a month in the apocalypse. She wasn’t, however, prepared for the most feared and loathed Shadowhunter to come back from the dead, summon a demon, and kill her only ally in the city.

Catarina Loss was also prepared for many things. She had bandages in her pockets, antiseptics up her sleeves and a body-full of healing magic to use. She wasn’t, however, prepared to find a nearly-dead Warlock child in the middle of the street, bleeding out profusely.

As any half-decent person would, she took the girl home and healed her, but Catarina’s a working Warlock - she can’t put her life on hold to care for a child.

Which is how Magnus Bane, who is prepared for maybe eight situations total, and none of this, finds himself baby-sitting a precocious Warlock child in addition to the horde of Shadowhunters who seem to use his loft as a holiday home.

He really should get paid for this.

Artemys is one of my favourite OCs currently, she's an extremely mature Warlock child, with slightly screwed morals from her unusual upbringing (cough cough definitely not a cult-), with a rather cold outlook on anyone she doesn't consider useful or precious to her. She spent over a year with Elias (her Warlock ally who we briefly meet canonically at the start of CoA), and moved on from his death like it was nothing.

She is very cunning, very manipulative - definitely an anti-hero with her motives and methods - and has very little remorse about using magic to persuade people, although her end goals align with the heroes of the story, it's mostly because letting the villains win would be very bad for her health and wellbeing.

She will end up quite attached to several characters by the end of the series (the fic starts at the start of City of Ash, and has plans to run all the way through into The Dark Artifices) and does ultimately end up changing for the better (c'mon, she's eight, she deserves some character development and maybe a stable family life), but this is a slow process, even if on the surface she appears mostly normal if only slightly odd. (She vibes hard with Sebastian, to give you a perspective on what she's like at at the start of the series, she would happily join with him if he wasn't gonna, ya know, destroy the world).

I love her dearly, but she has issues.

And why won't she tell people her Warlock Mark? (And why does everyone who knows Magnus feel the oddest sense of deja vu when they see them together?)

[themimsyborogove]

could you write a little snippet where Raphael turns out to be alive? like instead of Sebastian just outright shishkabobbing him to ashes, he does something that convinces everyone that Raph's missing/dead, and so Ragnor and Raph reunite (as well as the others in the warlock gang) after thinking each other to be dead for so long?

Let’s just go ahead and completely avoid that whole Janus Tricking Lily plotline that no one wants ✨

(Do TSC vampires actually turn to dust when they die like Buffy vampires? I can’t remember, so I’m going to go with yes. I think it might be time for a full canon reread to refresh some of the small details.)

——

It had been an extremely clever bit of spell work. A fail safe, should Camille Belcourt ever try to have Raphael murdered.

The most dramatic way to kill a vampire was to stab them through the heart, after all, and Camille did love her dramatics.

The spell had taken Ragnor nearly a decade to perfect, and Raphael wore the small device over his heart, hidden under his clothes. The device, if triggered, should pull him safely into a small pocket dimension—well stocked with supplies that would magically replenish themselves until the rescue spell was triggered—leaving only an expected cloud of ash behind. It wouldn’t save Raphael from other methods of killing a vampire, like beheading or sunlight, but it was something.

Ragnor, always paranoid of something going wrong, carefully wrote out the instructions to reopen the dimensional portal, the equations and diagrams complicated enough to make Raphael’s head spin when he tried to read them over Ragnor’s shoulder. “If something ever happens to me, make sure Magnus gets this,” he said gravely, pressing the papers into Raphael’s hand.

But one thing even Ragnor Fell hadn’t factored into his plans was how stubbornly Raphael would refuse to accept Ragnor’s death when it happened.

Keep reading on Ao3 (because it ran a little long again)