#downworld cabinet

[idk-i-just-really-like-tsc]

haven’t seen a single malec edit to the tortured poets department what kind of nonsense is this

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Shadowhunters

Enthrallment by smilebackwards

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.

DC

temporal fraternity by envysparkler

Damian clears his throat. “I require your assistance.”

The words come out easier with the benefit of practice and the knowledge that no one will remember them tomorrow. Today. Tomorrow-today.

The Umbrella Academy

cut me open and i still bleed red by aletterinthenameofsanity

Part 1 of the odds were never in our favor

Ben knows his fellow mentors pretty well, for how long he's spent here, behind the screens of the Games, watching as his tributes die.

Allison, from District One, has a way with the sponsors. Just a word placed here or there, stealthily dropped into conversation, and she can get her tributes the shit they need.

In his time as a Mentor, Klaus has developed a habit of drinking to get through the Games, and through the rest of his life, really- anything to avoid the truth of what's happening, the ghosts of the children he and Ben have sent to their deaths.

Very few people remember what Five’s name was before the Games. Caesar Flickerman and the Gamemakers nicknamed him that when he took out the entire Career Pack on his second day in the Arena.

Vanya’s the newest Mentor, the victor of the Seventy-Third Hunger Games.

Diego’s one of Ben’s oldest not-quite friends. A Victor from District Ten, he’d gone into the Games knowing how to kill an animal.

All the other Mentors Ben knows try never to get attached. Luther, on the other hand, doesn't forget a single name.

(A story of seven victors of the Hunger Games and the lives they live as Mentors.)

Danny Phantom

The Promised Land by redrobin1989

Danny Fenton has been running for years, from his abusive parents, from Vlad's experiments, from his freakish powers. He expected to be running his whole life until he found his way to a small town that felt like the home he'd never had.

M!ik

Study Dates Are Not Real Dates by StormySteady

A very important exam is coming up, and Asmodeus is trying his hardest to get Iruma and Clara to study for it. But his soulmates have other ideas.

Star Wars

Starlight, In All Its Forms by Soap_And_Lye

When Luke was eight, he was taken from his home on Tatooine and delivered into the hands of the emperor and his right hand.

When Luke was sixteen, he overheard the emperor's plans to steal a tiny Force sensitive child and saves him first, before being caught and dragged back to his masters' keeping.

When Luke was eighteen, he finds that same child on Gideon's cruiser, and spares both him and his family, including a silver clad Mandalorian.

And when Luke was twenty-four, he is captured by the Rebellion (captured or did he just let it happen? Really up for debate) and secretly sent as a prisoner to Mandalore, where Mand'alor Din Djarin rebuilds his planet and raises his son.

And the rest was history. Or the beginning.

Clone Wars

will you be an anarchist with me? by a_alene

Once the Kenobi floodgates are opened, they cannot be closed. Cody has apparently been keeping an itemized list of disagreements, and he is determined to tell Rex each and every one of them.

Kenobi refuses to listen to Cody’s input. Kenobi throws himself into battle with no regard for previously established battle plans. Kenobi uses the Force so recklessly and obviously that every undercover assignment is blown within the first few minutes. Kenobi is a hypocrite who berates Cody for sidestepping protocol, but flouts it himself at every opportunity.

CT-7567: bet you wish you had skywalker now

CC-2224: I wish for nothing but the cold embrace of space

Right. And he says Kenobi’s dramatic.

(Marshal Commander Cody and High General Obi-Wan Kenobi of the 212th cannot stand each other. Rex doesn't know why this is his problem.)

poetry is what you find (in the dirt in the corner) by fivecenturiesverse

(In which Cody becomes an anonymous poet after the war and his brothers find out.)

Rex launches forwards immediately and so does Bly, because he can admit to himself that he likes gifts. He likes gifts a whole lot more than Cody and Wolffe, anyway, who both act like martyrs who don’t need any material love. “Poetry, vod?” Bly asks, incredulous. “Cody’s right, you are going soft.”

“It’s by a clone,” Fox says, defensively, “it’s quite good, actually. For poetry. It made Sergeant Hound cry at the service.

[lurafita]

It's supposed to be about the meeting, Magnus!

Raphael: "Everyone in favor of Magnus never being made to keep protocol of the cabinet meeting again, say aye."

Every downworld leader: "Aye."

Magnus: "I take offense to that."

Raphael: "Do you need me to read the latest one you wrote?

'The meeting, as always, began at an incredibly inconvenient time, which prevented my boyfriend and me from a quality make out session. Non-the-less, Alexander Lightwood started the discussion about unimportant statistics and looking glorious while listing incredibly boring numbers. I did not care to note them down, being distracted as I was by the tousled hair he hadn’t quite managed to tame down, before the mood killers, otherwise known as the downworld Leaders, entered the room.'"

[lawsofchaos1]

SH Promplet: Trust

Magnus doesn't realize how deeply and how rapidly Alec decided to trust him until long after they've been together.

Since nearly the beginning of their relationship, Magnus has been snapping up drinks and morsels for Alec to try, loving the thrill of getting it right. It's perhaps this attention to figuring out what Alexander enjoys that makes Magnus realize Alec never, ever consumes the food or drink other people hand him.

Jace and Izzy are exceptions to this of course (unless Izzy prepared the food herself), but it's not uncommon for there to be drinks or snacks set out at Cabinet meetings or for one of Alec's subordinates to toss him a water bottle when he's taking a short break from training. Maia has sent over beers to their table and warlocks at some of the hidden parties that Magnus takes Alec to will often hand them both a glass of wine at the door.

Never once has Alec taken a sip.

Oh he thanks them all politely and a few nuts make their way into a pocket or a thrown away napkin, maybe a little wine goes missing every time Alec passes by Ibram's potted wisteria. The water bottle is brought to his lips, but he never actually swallows.

Magnus doesn't realize why until perhaps six months after he first notices the pattern. Not until one night at a Clave function where he's accompanying Alec as his partner for once instead of as a member of Alec's Downworld cabinet.

The Institute Head for Singapore is handed a glass when he calls the room's attention to him while making a toast before opening the banquet. He sips along with the crowd and Magnus thinks for half a moment that he, like Alec, simply hates the taste of alcohol and hasn't yet managed to mask his disgust.

And then the man crumples to the ground, limbs twitching and eyes glazing over in eventual death. Alec is already tracing the path of Inquisitor's guards where they're running after the Shadowhunter who'd offered the poisoned cup. His sharp eyes find the culprit long before the guards do and Alec shakes his head.

"Idiotic and incompetent," he whispers for Magnus' ears alone. "What possessed him to take a drink from a stranger?"

Understanding dawns like a flood.

Alec had made Magnus a promise when he'd Ascended as Head, just weeks after the wedding-that-wasn't. He promised that he would protect himself- promised that he wouldn't be one of the Heads who fell early in battle or to a blade in the dark. Magnus hadn't understood until now that the blade Alec mentioned could also be a champagne glass from a stranger.

Assassination.

And yet. Alec had downed the drink Magnus had handed him the very day that they'd met.

[professionalfanatic]

It's been two hundred years since Magnus Bane lost his husband. Two hundred years since he'd lost the love of his life, Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

Magnus stood, looking out at the starry lights of the busy New York City. The streets were brimming with life, and the sounds were deafening as always. The horns of the cars, the screeches of the brakes, the low hum of people talking, they were all just the same as they had been two hundred years ago.

Strange how everything had changed and remained unchanged at the same time.

Magnus cradled his half filled wine glass lovingly. Once upon a time he would have done that to Alec's face, and would have pressed a kiss to his forehead. But now Alec was gone.

He looked down at the letter on the table. He wanted to read it, and throw it away, both at the same time. Magnus closed his eyes, feeling the familiar prickling behind his eyes. He bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood.

Did he have the courage to read the last letter Alec had left him?

Before Alec had died, he'd given Magnus a huge bundle of letters. He'd been on his deathbed at the time, the Brothers having declared that there was nothing they could do to save Alec's life. Alec had smiled at Magnus, and had told him to open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet. Once Magnus had discovered the letters there, Alec had whispered that he hoped the letters to help. And then he had closed his beautiful blue eyes forever, leaving Magnus with a bundle of letters and a lifetime of wonderful memories.

He'd gone, leaving Magnus to grieve for eternity.

Magnus's throat burned, and he inhaled sharply. Alec's death still hurt like a sword stabbed through his heart.

He'd read the first letter, the one with the simple sentence on the envelope saying when you miss me.

He had been missing Alec so much that he had been almost suffocating with the pain. His heart had been aching, as if someone was twisting the invisible knife in his chest. He was almost gasping for breath and he wanted nothing more than to die, to end this numbing pain.

And then he'd read Alec's letter.

" My dear,

My own Magnus, " it had read, "This letter is for you when you miss me. Miss me dreadfully.

Your heart must be wrenching with pain, and it must be difficult for you to breathe. The pain must be intense, and you'd surely be wanting to die, and just end everything. That's what I felt when Jace died.

But, Magnus, I haven't left you. I'm still here, I'm still here with you. And do you know how you could see me? Close your eyes, Magnus, and whisper my name. You'll see me then. Because you see, I didn’t leave you. I'm still alive, in your heart, and in all the memories we made together. "

At the end of the letter Magnus had sobbed his heart out, clutching the letter so hard that it had ripped in half. His heart felt as if it had splintered into a million smithereens.

But he had felt a little better. The ache of not seeing Alec would never go away, but it had lessened. Enough for him to go on living at least.

And the letters had helped. Alec had written one for every occasion.

He'd written one for when Magnus is so angry he wanted to burn the world down. A letter filled with the soothing love which always made Magnus calm down. Magnus thought he heard Alec's soft voice when he read it, easing his boiling anger, just how a lullaby would comfort a toddler.

Alec had written one for when he is so sad that he couldn’t function. When he fell into a black hole and couldn’t find his way out at all. Alec's letter cheered him just the way Alec had always did. How he always reminded him that there were always good things in this world.

And there was another letter. A letter full of reassurance when Magnus depreciated himself, hated everything about his existence. Hated his demon eyes, hated his magic, and felt that no one could ever love a filthy Downworlder like him. Alec swept those misgivings away with his loving and caring letter, just like he'd done when he had been alive.

Another one for the time he'd first smiled after Alec's death. He'd seeked comfort in Alec's letter after feeling unbelievably guilty for enjoying something without Alec. For being happy without his Alec. Being happy after the man he loved died. Alec's letter filled with joy and laughter lighted up Magnus's bleak life.

And so the letters had gone on.

Magnus had read them over the past two centuries, reminding himself again and again as to why he'd fallen in love with the blue eyed Shadowhunter.

But when he'd woken up that morning, he had closed his eyes, and had tried to imagine his Alec, he hadn't been able to. He still lived in his heart, but the image wasn't clear. It was hazy, a sort of warm feeling you keep close to your heart. You remember the gist, but the fine details have faded.

Magnus remembered how Alec had laughed when he was with Jace and Isabelle, but he couldn’t clearly recall how deep his laugh was. He knew Alec smelled wonderful, but what he exactly smelled like, he couldn’t bring to memory. He knew he loved the way Alec kissed him, but he couldn’t remember exactly how Alec did so. Whether he leaned in first, or stroked a thumb across his cheek first. He knew Alec tasted sweet, but like what, he didn’t remember.

And he knew Alec had the bluest eyes possible, bluer than the ocean, than the sky, and even more than his magic, but Magnus couldn’t remember the exact shade.

He had sat on his bed, shocked and shaken to the core, scared that if he would forget these details, small ones, yes, but the ones which made Alec, well, Alec, he'd forget something else. Something important. And, this hurt him more than anything, that Alec would finally fade into a distant memory, a warm and welcome one he'd think only on his hard days.

And Alec, his dear sweet Alec, he knew that this would happen eventually. So he'd left a letter, his very last letter addressed with a simple when you forget the exact shade of my eyes.

Magnus had never really believed that he'd forget Alec's eyes. Their exact colour and shape. He had believed himself to have a better memory, that he'd remember those gems which had attracted him to Alec in the first place. But he'd forgotten. It had taken him two hundred years, but yes. He'd forgotten.

Taking a deep breathe, Magnus took the letter with shaking hands. He ran a light finger over the cursive writing on the envelope, reliving the way Alec looped his ys with a sad smile. He tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out, a much bigger one than the others, and began to read it.

Magnus had expected it to be a letter with sad reproachings. But he was wrong, of course he was wrong. How could he have thought that his Alec would ever even think of hurting him?

Alec's letter was filled with joy, happiness and warmth, just like him. Magnus felt his lips tugging into a teary smile seeing the pictures Alec had enclosed in his letter. The first one they'd taken together as a couple. Alec was clutching Magnus's hand with a determined smile, a glint in those blue eyes of his, challenging anyone who'd dare say anything against him. Magnus had been incredibly proud of Alec, his boyfriend for standing up against all the prejudices of the Nephilium.

The next picture was the one they'd taken in India. The one where Magnus had worn a saree. Alec had laughed so hard that tears had escaped from his eyes. He had looked at Magnus, his blue eyes crinkled and his mouth open in a little gasp. He had looked absolutely stunning, and for the first time in centuries Magnus had felt his heart skip a beat. And that had been the moment he had realised that there was no going back. He'd fallen for this man so hard that he hadn't realised it until he hit rock bottom.

Magnus choked back a sob when he looked at the picture of them cuddling Max together. Alec was holding him close to his chest, caring for their most precious treasure. Max was smiling up at Alec, waving his tiny blue arms. Alec's eyes were filled with the warmth and wonder at seeing Max, their Max, their baby smile at him.

And then all that was left was the last picture. With trembling hands Magnus picked it up and stared at it.

It was a picture of their wedding.

Underneath it, Alec had written one small sentence.

The happiest day of my life.

Magnus stared at it until he couldn’t see clearly,  making him realise that tears were flowing from his eyes.

Alec.

His husband Alec.

Magnus remembered how nervous Alec had been when he'd proposed to him. He had twisted and turned his hands so much that Magnus had been afraid of him actually breaking a bone. He'd bitten his lip, drawing blood, and had let out a series of shaky breaths.

But when he'd finally pushed the question forward, Magnus had searched Alec's eyes, and those blue orbs had shone with nothing but certainty and conviction.

It had taken Magnus less than a second to say yes.

And the wedding, Magnus looked at the picture, looking at how handsome Alec was, wearing a black tuxedo with gold and blue lining. Gold to symbolise Nephilium, and blue for Magnus's warlock lineage.

The wedding of the century, they'd called it. The union of a Nephilium and a Downworlder, of an Angel and Demon, but above all, the union of two souls who loved each other with all their hearts.

As a tear slipped down his cheek, Magnus read the last part of Alec's letter.

And one day, again, you'll fall for someone else. Love someone with that beautiful heart of yours. And that should happen, Magnus. For you're an extraordinary man, and it has always been my greatest privilege and joy to love and to be loved by a man like you. The best gift Raziel ever bestowed on me.

And when you fall for someone else, love another, give them your entire heart. Fall in love again, and again, and never close of your heart.

Don't fear betraying me, love, and never think our story will be forgotten. It shall forever be written in the stars, and most importantly your heart.

I'm happy to have been part of your life, Magnus.

Tear drops decorated the letter when Magnus finished reading. Drawing a trembling breathe in, he collected all the letters Alec had ever left him, and cuddled them to his chest, pretending that it was Alec he was holding close to him. And in a way, he was. Alec had poured his entire soul into those letter.

Of course their story would forever be remembered. Even when Alec faded into a distant memory, a warm yet unreachable one, he'd live forever in Magnus's heart.

After all, how could he forget the man who taught him to love again?

                                                   -----------------

My first ever fanfic! Wrote this when I was obsessed with Malec. Just some thoughts of Magnus after Alec's death. :)

[smilebackwards]

enthrallment

Shadowhunters | Magnus/Alec | 6,000 words

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.

read on AO3

[malec-ao3feed]

To serve and protect

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9hmTrxY by ToTheStarsWriting From the moment there’d been shadowhunters, there had been the guardians. Those willing to go above and beyond their people, their Institutes. Ones willing to bind themselves through magic and rune with a warlock. To pledge their lives to one another, and to the fight against the hordes of hell. These days the Guardians weren’t nearly so common. It was rare for a warlock to be able to find a shadowhunter who would willingly do the oath with them. Even if some thought it a great honor in the beginning. that had clearly changed. Now, the only time Alec saw any hint of the peace that was said to once exist between the denizens of the shadow world was at events like these. One week, every five years, where all parties gathered together in a ritual as old as their race. Alec had been interested, once, until he realized what it would mean. Giving up his life, his Institute, his family? A Guardian had to be prepared to let all of that go. Their life became the whim of their bonded and the War. Where their bonded went, they went. And with a lot of the new rules against Downworlders, that meant that there would be so many places a shadowhunter gave up ever seeing again. He couldn’t abandon his people like that. Words: 4465, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, M/M Characters: Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane, Catarina Loss, Benji Sunkeep, Original Characters, Imogen Herondale Relationships: pre Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Bonding, Discrimination Against Downworlders, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Nephilim are religious, you can pry that from my cold dead hands, Still, not as heavy as it could be, BAMF Alec Lightwood, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood, downworld cabinet, Alec Lightwood & Raphael Santiago Friendship, because I said so, Magnus Bane & Catarina Loss Friendship, Good Sibling Jace Wayland, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Sibling Love, In the form of sass, And violence, Light Angst, Isabelle Lightwood Ships Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9hmTrxY

[the-great-lightwood-bane]

make this place beautiful

Malec | Rated general | tw canon-typical warnings | Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting 

Summary: In which Magnus and Alec a) first meet at Alec's first Downworld Cabinet meeting, months before Clary comes into the picture; b) fall in love while believing that the other one only wants a friend; and c) fight Valentine, and perhaps a few others.

A/N: This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver.

This is not a complete fic; I started it for the big bang, and then IRL showed up and I wasn't able to write everything I wanted to. Here, I've collected a couple early scenes, plus the climax scene, so it doesn't end on a total cliffhanger (although there are still loose ends to tie up). There's a summary paragraph in square brackets between those two parts to avoid confusion. If I ever get around to writing the rest of this, I'll post it here!

Art for this fic (above) created by cloudbunbuzz!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Magnus stares up at the huge, imposing front doors of the Institute. He’s never stepped inside of them before — oh, he’s entered the Institute through the side door leading to the area of the Institute where Downworlders are allowed to petition the Head for assistance, but this is, obviously, different. At least on the surface. He’s not so sure about how much has changed, deep down. 

He thinks of the fire message he received a few weeks earlier — the formal but not particularly discriminatory invitation to attend a Downworld Cabinet. Organized by the new Head of the Institute, Alexander Lightwood, the eldest child of Maryse and Robert. To share information and collaborate to ensure the collective peace of our peoples. Not races, but peoples. Whatever else Lightwood is, he’s careful in his wording. 

The problem is that Magnus doesn’t know exactly what else he is. As the son of a Circle member, he’d expected cool disdain if not outright vitriol. Instead, Shadowhunter-Downworlder confrontations have been steadily decreasing since the newest Lightwood took control, and now there’s this. An invitation to a Downworld Cabinet. 

It is, honestly, preposterous. A Shadowhunter, and a Lightwood at that, trying to initiate peace? Cooperation? Between the Downworld and the Shadowhunters, as though they’re equals? Magnus knows better than to trust any such promises, however sweet they may seem. 

But the invitation had been sent out. Magnus saw no signs of deception, although he looked carefully. This is almost certainly some sort of ploy to gain the trust of the Downworld; if it isn’t, Lightwood is simply absurdly naïve and the Cabinet will be doomed before it even starts. But Magnus needs to know which of the two it is — does he need to be careful of treachery from Lightwood, or simply avoid whatever bumbling errors he makes in his misguided attempts to build a relationship between the Shadowhunters and the Downworlders? 

Magnus turns when Meliorn calls his name — he must be here to represent the Seelie Queen. There’s no way she could ever let the other leaders get together without a way to know what goes on; whether this is fake or real, she’ll want to know. Magnus greets him with an inclination of the head. They stop at the doors and wait for the others; Magnus knows none of them are particularly eager to wander the halls of the Institute alone. 

Raphael is the next to arrive. Magnus knew he was coming; they’ve been discussing the question in detail since the invitations arrived. Is it a trap? Is it some sort of bribery to get them to cooperate? Is Lightwood genuinely naïve enough to think this could work? The chances that Lightwood will cause them harm are slim — the Downworld would likely fall into revolt, which would bring the Clave’s disfavour down on the Institute — and so Raphael, like Magnus, has come to find out what in Edom Lightwood is thinking. 

Luke arrives last. His ascension to Alpha is because of this meeting: Theo refused to even consider it, and Luke, hoping it was true, challenged him on the spot. (Magnus healed the injuries he sustained in winning the fight.) It makes sense that he’s more willing to trust Shadowhunters than the rest of them — he has, after all, once been one of them — and Magnus hopes he won’t be too let down when Lightwood reveals his true colours. 

Only once all four are assembled does Magnus step forward and knock on the door. He’s sure the Shadowhunters know they’re out here, but a blond man opens the door without comment and escorts them inside with a polite inclination of the head. Surprisingly polite, but of course Lightwood would send a neutral figure to greet them at the door. If he didn’t, it would destroy the entire point of this charade. 

The Shadowhunter introduces himself as Andrew Underhill, and leads them directly into what appears to be some sort of command centre — the space is milling with Shadowhunters, clustered around tables holding holographic maps or computer banks full of camera feeds. Several glance up when the Downworlders enter, but Magnus is taken aback by the strange lack of glares. Lightwood must have a lot of authority here, if he can compel his people to be so polite. 

Another Shadowhunter comes up — tall, dark-haired, extremely attractive, authority lying across his shoulders like a cloak. There’s a deflect rune on the side of his neck, a placement which Magnus recognises as a Lightwood trademark, but even without it, Magnus thinks he would recognise him as the Head. Something in the clear deference that Underhill shows, the posture that suggests leadership. Magnus recalls the carefully polite wording of the message, and thinks that this is certainly the type of person to act carefully and logically, to plan. 

That means he’s probably not very naïve, which means that he has ulterior motives behind the creation of this Cabinet. Magnus cannot afford to think about how attractive he may be. 

“Thank you for coming,” Lightwood says, with an inclination of the head that’s actually not so small as to be offensive — in fact, the gesture suggests that the Downworlders are of equal rank to Lightwood, rather than being dirt beneath his shoes. 

“Did we have a choice?” Raphael asks, voice cold and dismissive. Internally, Magnus winces; whatever Lightwood’s intentions, offending him cannot be a good idea. 

Magnus might be reading too much into it, but he thinks Lightwood’s slow blink might hide surprise. His voice, however, shows no trace of emotion. “It was not my intention to make it appear as though you did not. I assure you that there would have been no repercussions had you chosen not to come, and there will be no repercussions should you choose to leave at any point today, although I hope you do not.” 

It’s easy to say that, Magnus thinks, and Lightwood isn’t a faerie. Lies probably rise more easily to his lips than truth. Still, Magnus doesn’t leave. 

Lightwood leads them out of Ops and into some sort of conference room — the table, Magnus notes, is round, likely to preserve the pretence of equality. None of the seats have their backs directly to the door; Magnus knows that positioning a chair that way would either leave a Downworlder wildly uncomfortable, or if Alec took the seat, give the impression that he was blocking the exit. 

Instead, two seats are about equidistant from the exit. Magnus takes one and Meliorn the other; Raphael sits on Magnus’s other side, and Luke beside Meliorn. That leaves Alec with the seat farthest from the door — a seat he takes willingly, even though it leaves him essentially trapped in a room with four Downworlders. None of them can make a move without bringing the Clave down on their heads, of course, but it’s still interesting. 

“I would like to begin by reiterating my apology that any of you understood there to be repercussions for not attending this meeting,” Lightwood says. “Your presence here today and in future is entirely voluntary, although much appreciated.”

Magnus inclines his head a glacial fraction in acknowledgement; Raphael echoes him, but Luke nods quite happily, while Meliorn’s posture is unchanging. Lightwood doesn’t seem daunted by their reluctance; Magnus still doesn’t know what to make of him. 

“I’ve asked you to come here for a few reasons,” Lightwood goes on. Magnus is certain he’s rehearsed this speech before, but it still sounds fairly natural; the tone is a hair less formal than Lightwood’s apology, but still professional. “First, I want to make amends for my parents’ treatment of the Downworld during their time as Heads of the Institute. Secondly, I think that both Shadowhunters and Downworlders could benefit from closer cooperation between our two groups. Thirdly, I would like to have your input on the measures I’m planning to take to reduce discrimination against Downworlders both in New York and elsewhere.” He pauses, glancing around at the four people sitting around him. 

Magnus no longer knows what to make of him at all. There’s a straightforwardness about him that makes Magnus doubt that he’d do anything too treacherous, and Magnus has learned to respect his gut instinct — but what Shadowhunter could possibly, seriously, want to do any of the things which Lightwood has listed off? It’s preposterous. To make amends? To both benefit from closer cooperation? To reduce discrimination with Downworlder input?  

It is, frankly, utterly impossible, especially for the son of two Circle members. It is impossible. Lightwood cannot possibly mean what he says. 

And yet, Magnus wants to believe him with a surprising intensity. 

He doesn’t know, so he leans back in his chair and listens to what Lightwood has to say. 

“I have recently been made aware of my parents’ role in the genocide of Downworlders during the Uprising,” Lightwood says, and Magnus only barely manages to prevent himself from reacting. There are layers to that statement, but foremost among them is the word genocide. Even when the Clave went so far as to declare themselves opposed to the Circle, they never said exactly what the Circle was doing — never outright declared that the Circle was exterminating Downworlders like so many insects. No, there was always a veneer of formality behind which the Clave hid, euphemisms and half-truths preventing the Clave from having to outright disavow their best and brightest, however misguided. 

And now, Lightwood cuts through all that with perfect ease, although there’s a glint in his eye that shows his awareness of what he’s doing. The Circle committed genocide against the Downworld. It’s there, a bald statement, a declaration. 

Lightwood proceeds as though he doesn’t notice the surprise that’s swept through his listeners — even Meliorn’s careful facade has cracked a fraction. “Since then, they have continually acted unjustly towards the Downworld. I understand that monetary repayments are insufficient to make up for everything they have done, but you are nevertheless owed recompense under the Accords. The Clave may avoid offering it on the basis of technicalities, but I offer it in their stead.” 

This Shadowhunter. To offer recompense at all would be surprising, but Lightwood is offering it without even assuming that’ll make everything better — and he’s implying that the Clave is wrong not to have done so. He’s calling the Clave out on their bullshit declarations that they are entirely unaffiliated with the Circle and thus bear no responsibility for Downworlder deaths at Valentine’s hands. It’s more than Magnus would have expected of any Shadowhunter, let alone the son of two (barely-)ex-Circle members. 

The sum Lightwood proceeds to name is. Well. He’s not rounding down the Downworlder death toll, to say the least, and Magnus is not alone in staring at him in utterly stupefied silence. 

Lightwood waits for a moment, and then, when nobody speaks up, moves on to the next topic. “More practically, I feel that significant benefits could be achieved through a closer relationship between Downworlders and Shadowhunters. I’m not suggesting that Shadowhunters get involved in Downworlder business, but if we could — at a bare minimum — share information on demon movements, I think it could help all of us.” 

“Downworlders aren’t going to do your dirty work for you, Lightwood,” Raphael drawls. “Isn’t killing demons what Shadowhunters are for?”

“It is,” Lightwood agrees calmly, despite the aggression in Raphael’s tone. “And I’m not going to ask any of you to start fighting demons — the chances of that going badly are too high. But our demon sensors don’t work in the vicinity of large groups of Downworlders — or rather, they work too well, and go off continuously. If a demon shows up near the Hotel Dumort or the Jade Wolf, we’ve got no way of knowing about it except if you see it and tell us about it.” 

“And why,” Raphael asks, his voice dropping to a hiss, “has the Clave not informed us of this danger?”

“Because the Clave does not count Downworlders among those we have the duty to protect.” Lightwood pauses. “I, however, do. Raziel created us to protect the world from demons, not merely those members of the world without the Sight. Mundanes, Shadowhunters, ex-Shadowhunters, and Downworlders all fall within our mandate.”

Another simple, concise refutation of all that the Clave pretends not to believe. Raphael does not have a retort. 

“Our technicians are currently working on building sensors that can differentiate between demons and Downworlders,” Lightwood adds, “but we have been unsuccessful so far.” 

“I might be able to offer some assistance,” Magnus says — a test, as well as a genuine offer. Few Shadowhunters would be willing to work with Downworlders when not absolutely necessary. “Runic and warlock magic, working together, becomes capable of a good deal more than either could do alone.” The portal being a prime example — not that any Shadowhunters have acknowledged as much since Henry Branwell’s time. 

“That would be great,” Lightwood replies immediately. “We can discuss fees later on. In the short term, though, please do call us if you see a demon, especially if it’s somewhere near the DuMort or the Jade Wolf.” He pushes a business card with a phone number on it across the table to each of them. Magnus examines his — simple, white with black lettering. 

Alexander Lightwood

Head of the New York Institute

XXX-XXX-XXXX

Lightwood’s own number, then, not just the Institute’s number. Magnus puts the card in a pocket. 

“We’ll consider it, Shadowhunter,” Raphael says, leaning back in his chair. 

Luke nods more cordially, if only marginally so. He was once a Shadowhunter himself; despite all he’s suffered at their hands, he’s still more willing to trust them than the average Downworlder. 

“The last point I wanted to address, before I open the meeting up to any of your concerns,” Lightwood begins, “is about the legal battle underway in Alicante for Downworlder rights.”

“Legal battle?” It’s Magnus who asks the question, but he can see from the other Downworlders’ faces that none of them were aware of any such legal battle. A battle for Downworlder rights in Alicante itself — might that be how New York wound up with such a progressive leader?

“You didn’t know?” Lightwood seems surprised, but shakes it off after a moment. “No, how would you? It’s all going down in Alicante, and it’s not like there are any procedures in place to inform the Downworld of legislative changes that affect you.” He huffs with what seems like genuine frustration. On a Downworlder’s behalf. Every word out of Lightwood’s mouth brings a new surprise. 

Lightwood begins to explain the situation. “Alicante’s last four legislative sessions have been dominated by debate over Downworlder rights. It’s partially because the younger generation is now taking over Head positions from our parents, which is causing a shift in priorities. The old guard is pushing back, of course, but we’re making progress.” He pulls out a binder, stuffed full with papers but appearing meticulously organized. “We’ve managed to stop a bill that Inquisitor Herondale was pushing, which would’ve held leaders of groups of Downworlders responsible not only for the behaviour of members of that group, but also for the behaviour of rogue Downworlders in their area. Our main goal, though, is to get a rewrite of the Accords.” 

Magnus leans back in his chair, doing his best to set aside shock in favour of thinking logically about the political situation. “What do you want to change in the Accords?”

“We’ve got a couple ideas — the right to a trial with a mixed Downworlder/Shadowhunter jury, for example — but what I’d really like to get is your input.” Lightwood glances around at the table. “There’s no point in rewriting the Accords if we end up back where we started.” 

Right. Just Shadowhunters actually trying to help Downworlders, for the first time Magnus can remember. “Not everything can be solved by changing a few laws.”

“It can’t,” Lightwood agrees, “but changing the laws is a place to start, and I’d like to think this Cabinet could be a step towards fixing the other problems we’re facing.” 

Magnus nods, slowly, and they get to work.

[A brief explanation of what happens next: Magnus and Alec become friends (ft. minor misunderstandings and mutual pining). Clary shows up, and Malec deal with her a bit better than they do in canon, because a) Alec is properly HoTI in this ’verse, so he has more power, and b) Malec already know each other and can rely on each other/cooperate more than they do in canon. Valentine manages to build a bomb of angelic energy, which he plans to let off in a roomful of Downworlders (as an alternative to the Soul Sword, since Alec kept that out of his hands in this ’verse). Alec manages to evacuate the Downworlders (giving up on catching Valentine to do so), but he himself is hit with the angelic bomb. It doesn’t kill him, but they soon discover that it’s infected him with angelic energy (similar to heavenly fire, but not exactly the same). If he touches a Downworlder, they die, and if he touches a mundane, they become a Forsaken (basically, Alec touching a non-Shadowhunter has the same effect as drawing a rune on them). They also suspect that if he touches a Shadowhunter, the angelic energy will be passed from one to the other. Izzy’s testing suggests that the energy may consume Alec if they don’t figure out a way to get rid of it. In light of this, Alec has requested that Downworlders stay away from him, and has been attending Downworld Cabinet meetings via Projection. Magnus is, needless to say, upset.]

“What,” Alec asks, his voice clipped and harsh and cold, “are you doing here, Magnus?” 

Magnus refuses on principle to be deterred. “Am I not allowed to drop in to see a friend, Alexander?”

Alec opens his mouth, closes it, hisses, and then glares at him. He’s torn, Magnus knows, between the impulse to insist that Downworlders are welcome in the Institute any time they like — Alec’s really worked hard to make the Institute a more welcoming place — and the urge to get Magnus to leave by any means necessary. 

His goal is to protect Magnus, which is rather sweet, but also infuriating. They have no evidence whatsoever that just being in Alec’s presence could harm him, and seeing as Izzy is yet to find a cure for the angelic energy held in Alec’s body, Magnus thinks his magical expertise could come in handy. 

But no. Alec hasn’t quite forbidden any Downworlders from entering the Institute, but he’s strongly recommended that they stay away from him, which is essentially the same thing. In light of what happened to Gretel when Alec had touched her, Magnus can’t really say it’s an overreaction, but he absolutely can and will say that it’s yet another instance of Alec’s self-sacrificial tendencies. 

“You’re free to do whatever you like,” Alec says at last, scowling at him, and turns on his heel to stride away. 

Magnus follows. 

Alec leaves Ops and starts heading towards his office. 

Magnus keeps following him. 

Alec sits down at his desk and pulls a stack of papers towards himself. 

Magnus sits down opposite him, and waits. 

Alec sighs. “Magnus.”  

“Alec.”  

They look at each other across the desk for a moment. 

“At least let me do a magical scan,” Magnus offers. “I won’t need to touch you, and maybe we’ll figure something out to control it.” Because if we don’t control it—  

“The risks—”

“Are minor relative to the risks to you.” Alec isn’t going to convince Magnus otherwise. Not about this. Not when the untamed energy humming beneath Alec’s skin will eventually consume him, too, just as surely as it’ll kill any Downworlder who touches him. 

Alec’s lips are compressed stubbornly. “Magnus, it would really be best if you—”

“I’m not leaving.” Alec may have a stubborn streak a mile wide, but so does Magnus, especially when it comes to this. To Alec’s safety. “You’re my friend. I’m not going to sit by and do nothing while you waste away.” 

Alec means a good deal more than a friend to Magnus, but that’s beside the point. The point is that Alec already looks skinnier than he should, his cheekbones sharper, his musculature more pronounced. The angelic energy is eating him up from the inside, and Magnus wants to help.  

Whatever retort Alec was formulating is cut off when his tablet blares with an alert that sounds more like an alarm than anything else. Alec frowns and grabs it, silencing the noise and staring down at whatever it says on the screen. 

“Another potential hideout of Valentine’s,” Alec says at last, glancing up at Magnus and then back down. “We’ve come across more than a few potential locations, but so far they’ve all been dead ends. Still worth checking, obviously, but we’ll just send a small team to investigate and call everyone else if they find anything.” 

He looks at Magnus again, and then down at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go. I’ve spent too long cooped up in the Institute.” 

Magnus has no plans whatsoever to let Alec avoid this conversation by just walking away. “Good point. I’ll come with you.” 

“No.” Alec scowls at him. 

Magnus returns the look. 

Alec sighs as if to relent. “We can continue this conversation when I get back, okay?” 

“Fine,” Magnus lies — he’s definitely not letting Alec investigate a possible Circle hideout without backup. 

So, ten minutes after Alec leaves, Magnus steps out of a portal across the street from the empty warehouse. 

“Magnus—” Alec hisses from behind him. “Why did you follow me?” 

“Two sets of eyes are better than one,” Magnus replies. “Seen anything so far?” 

Alec huffs, but acknowledges that there’s no way Magnus is going to leave. See, Magnus knows he can be sensible sometimes. 

“No, there doesn’t seem to be anyone there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t anyone there,” Alec tells him. “We should try getting a bit closer.” 

Magnus hums agreement, and the two of them creep quietly forwards, sticking to the shadows of the sparse trees although Alec maintains a careful six feet of distance between them. Alec’s footsteps are, of course, completely silent, but Magnus has snuck around enough places to be pretty quiet as well. The loudest sound is their breathing. 

Until, that is, Magnus feels wards brushing against his skin. “Alexander, wait—”

Too late. Alec, several steps ahead of him, is already across the wards. 

An alarm begins to blare. 

Alec swears softly, and glances back at Magnus. Backup, he mouths, and Magnus flicks his fingers behind his back to send off several urgent fire messages — to the Institute as well as to various Downworlders. Best to get as many fighters here as possible, although he knows it’s unlikely that any of them will arrive anytime soon. 

The not-so-abandoned warehouse is now somewhat reminiscent of a kicked anthill — Circle members in black are scurrying out of it in not-insignificant numbers. 

Magnus makes a quick mental calculation. There’s no way they can fight off that many Circle members alone; there’s no way they can even survive against them until backup arrives. Which leaves either running away, and letting Valentine have a chance to escape, or—  

“How about I cast a spell of invisibility on us, and we sneak inside?” Magnus whispers urgently. 

Alec nods, no doubt having come to the same conclusion. The spell takes effect, and they move in tandem towards the building. 

It’s simple enough to slip, invisible, past the scurrying Circle members, but the difficulty of the invisibility spell increases exponentially with the number of people trying to look through it, and the wards are mildly magic-suppressant. (Mildly to Magnus, at least; they’d be effective against a warlock like Dot.) 

He can’t afford to go into a fight with Circle members low on magic. So, once they’re within the building and out of the Circle members’ direct sight, he drops the glamour with a sigh. Alec glances at him, worried, but only activates a couple runes and continues on — still a couple paces away from Magnus. 

It’s not long before they come across another Circle member, presumably left behind to guard the building while her fellows search outside; Alec kills her with an arrow through her throat. The next two guards are dispatched with similar ease, but the one after that manages to yell before Magnus’s magic wraps around their throat. Magnus sees Alec tense, just as alarms begin to blare; it’s only a matter of time, now, until they’re overrun. 

Circle members are pouring in, an unending stream of them that they can only barely keep at bay. They stand back to back, a scant foot between them so they don’t quite trust, and Magnus fights with magic and blades until the floor is wet with blood and the hallways dotted with corpses. 

And then Valentine is there. It’s obvious that he’s a better fighter than any of his lackeys; Magnus only barely dodges a swipe of his seraph blade, but before he can engage Valentine in proper combat, Alec is there, his blades glowing as brightly as Valentine’s and his Deflect rune standing in sharp contrast to the circle on Valentine’s neck. Magnus can’t hit Valentine with a spell while Alec’s there, but he can knock out the Circle members coming to Valentine’s aid, so he lets Alec deal with the greater threat while he dispatches the lesser ones. 

There are quite a few Circle members left, though, and Magnus is forced to divert most of his attention away from Alec and Valentine in order to fight them. Magic wraps around hands to deflect seraph blades; the knife in Magnus’s other hand darts out to sever tendons and muscles with quiet efficiency. 

And then he hears Alec grunt in pain, and half-turns to look in time to see one of Alec’s seraph blades go sailing out of his bloodied hand — Magnus knocks Valentine back a step with a desperate burst of magic, but he’s too slow, and one of his own assailants’ blades lands in his stomach. 

The angelic energy burns, and he can feel it attacking his magic, trying to eat away at the demonic side of him. He sweeps a hand towards the several Circle members around him, and they fall like stones, and then his magic sputters out against the onslaught of the seraph blade’s angelic power. 

Valentine has lost a seraph blade, too, in the impact from Magnus’s spell; he turns and runs for the doorway. Alec drops to his knees by Magnus’s side — when did Magnus sit down? — and hovers there, anxiously. 

“Go after him,” Magnus hisses, “I’ll be fine—”  

Alec frowns. “The blood loss—”

“The blade itself will keep that from happening,” Magnus returns, “at least until Cat’s here to help me. Don’t let Valentine get away.”

A moment more when Alec hesitates, and then he stands and grabs a blade from a fallen Circle member in his injured hand. “Don’t take the blade out, Magnus,” he says, almost pleadingly, and then he runs after Valentine. 

Magnus takes a deep breath — ouch —  and scoots over to sit against the wall. 

He inspects the injury. The blade’s gone into his abdomen pretty cleanly, and it doesn’t seem like it’s hit anything crucially important (or, at least, anything that’ll kill him before backup arrives); not much blood is leaking out, which is also a good sign. On the other hand, it hurts like hell, and since it’s a seraph blade, warlock magic isn’t going to do anything to stem the injury. And he is, himself, without magic until the seraph blade is out of him; since taking it out would likely lead to him bleeding to death in fairly short order, he is now approximately useless. 

And Alec is facing off against Valentine alone.  

Fortunately, Magnus doesn’t have long to worry about it, because he hears the clashing of blades not far off and then Alec and Valentine come back into view. Their blades — two seraph blades each; Alec prefers to dual-wield and clearly Valentine is as good with two blades as he is with one — are flashing in the air almost faster than the eye can follow. Valentine, Magnus knows, was the best Shadowhunter of his generation; the fact that Alec can even keep up with him is impressive, but he won’t be able to last long. 

And Magnus can’t help him.  

It’s been barely five minutes since Magnus sent out the fire messages for backup, never mind that it’s felt like far longer. He can probably begin expecting help starting in about another two minutes, but by that time, Alec might be— No. He won’t let that happen. Not to Alec, not to the best man (nevermind Shadowhunter) he’s ever met, not to anyone but especially not to Alec, who he loves—

The means at his disposal. No magic; the knife he was fighting with earlier is too far out of reach, as are any of the Circle members who might have weapons. And the seraph blade currently stabbed through his abdomen, of course. 

Alec is obviously tiring. High-intensity combat like this, or even like the fighting they’d been doing together before Valentine showed up, isn’t sustainable for longer than a few minutes, and Alec is quickly approaching that threshold. 

Magnus pulls the seraph blade out of his stomach — quickly, quietly, if Valentine notices he’ll lose his element of surprise — and hurls it across the room with unerring aim. 

Valentine gasps, an expression of surprise on his face and a seraph blade protruding from his throat, and then drops to the ground at Alec’s feet. 

Magnus’s wound starts bleeding in earnest.

Valentine falls, and Alec barely takes the time to make sure he’s actually dead before he’s turning to Magnus, who’s on the ground, a hand pressed to his side with blood leaking out between his fingers. 

Alec finds himself, abruptly, at Magnus’s side, without much regard for the intervening space and/or time. “Magnus—”

“Alexander.” Magnus says his name like it’s a full sentence all on its own, the way he always does, although this time his voice is hoarse with pain. 

Brutally, Alec shoves down his first instinct, to reach out and help Magnus put pressure on the injury. It’s only thanks to the last few weeks of training himself to never touch people that he’s able to stop himself; instead of touching Magnus, his hands hover awkwardly between them. 

The blood is coming out too fast. “Can’t you heal it?” Alec asks, and then realises that was a stupid question, because obviously Magnus would have healed the giant gaping injury in his stomach if he’d been able to. 

“Injuries from seraph blades are resistant to warlock magic,” Magnus tells him anyway. 

No runes either, since Magnus is a warlock. “Mundane healing, then? We can get you to a hospital—”

Magnus sighs. His face is alarmingly pale. “Mundane doctors aren’t going to be able to stitch me back together, I don’t think, and in any case I don’t have the magic for a portal and you can’t touch me.”

Alec feels his heart stutter. “There isn’t — there isn’t anything we can do?” 

The smile on Magnus’s face is far, far too sad, and Alec’s mind is screaming no no no no no. “I’m sorry, Alexander.” 

“Don’t apologise,” he manages, “there must be — something—” no no no no no

“I’ve lived a long time.” That terribly sad smile doesn’t falter. “And if this is how it ends, well — it’s not the worst way to die.” 

nonononononononono, Alec’s brain says, and but you’re not supposed to die at all, and I love you, and he doesn’t quite manage to put any of that into words, but only crouches there and stares at Magnus. 

“I wanted to—” and then Magnus hesitates, and frowns, and the uncertainty in his expression is a thousand times worse than the too-sad smile. 

“You wanted?” Alec asks, because if Magnus is going to — if he’s really — if this is the last time, then the least Alec can do is encourage him to say whatever it is that he has on his mind. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Magnus says, as though he’s made a decision, “that I love you, and I have loved you as long as I’ve known you and maybe for centuries before, and I don’t want to die without telling you, even if you don’t feel the same—”

“Magnus, what — of course I feel the same,” Alec manages, his chest a knot of love-pain-longing-grief because if Magnus had said that a month ago, a day ago, it would’ve been everything he wanted, but now Magnus is dying and Alec can’t touch him. 

There’s a trickle of blood running down Magnus’s cheek, and tears on his face, and the tips of his hair — dyed blue, brilliant and beautiful as Magnus always was — are blurry. Alec realises that there are tears on his own face, too. 

“Idiots, the pair of us, then,” Magnus huffs, and even with his face blurred out by tears, Alec knows that the sad smile is back on his face. “I wish—”

I wish we’d figured it out sooner, Alec thinks, and he knows Magnus is thinking the same thing. All this time they’ve known each other, all this time running around in circles, and now, now, they know that they love each other. 

Magnus tilts his head back against the wall and breathes out, rasping and pained. Alec’s fingers twitch with the suppressed desire to cup his face, to wipe away the tears and the blood. He holds himself still. 

“Can I ask something impossibly selfish of you, Alexander?” Magnus murmurs, meeting his eyes again. 

Doubt you could be selfish if you tried, Alec thinks, but that’s not particularly helpful. “Anything.”

Magnus swallows. “I want to kiss you.”

It takes Alec a moment to realise that he isn’t voicing an abstract desire, but asking that impossibly selfish thing of Alec. His first reaction, upon processing this, is but I’ll kill you, and then with a horrible sinking feeling he remembers that Magnus is already dying and so — so — 

Anything, Alec said, only moments before, and if this is what Magnus is asking for — to die at Alec’s touch rather than of blood loss — then what can Alec do but give it to him? 

“Okay,” he says, and he feels his heart beat faster at the thought of kissing Magnus even as he knows that there will be no recovering from this — from watching him burn and crumble to ashes at Alec’s touch. 

Alec leans forward and presses their lips together, and for a moment all thoughts of what will come next are lost in the softness of Magnus’s lips, the salt tang of the tears on both their faces, the desperate joy that rises in his chest regardless of anything that his brain has to say about it.

He pulls back to breathe in, unwilling to open his eyes and watch as Magnus—

“Alexander,” Magnus says, and Alec’s eyes snap open. 

He’s — he’s here, and he’s alive, and if Alec is hallucinating this, he thinks he rather prefers it to reality. 

His eyes flicker down to the injury in Magnus’s stomach, from which blood still flows. Not a hallucination, then. 

“It didn’t hurt me,” Magnus breathes. “But how — unless the angelic energy—” He’s frowning, muttering to himself in the way he does when he’s caught up in some research project or other. Alec catches the words angelic descent and Asmodeus and fallen angel, but he’s mostly too busy staring at Magnus to follow. 

(Magnus, alive, but terribly pale.)

Apparently having reached a conclusion he’s satisfied with, Magnus nods sharply. “My father,” he says, “is a fallen angel, and the best explanation I can come up with for this is that there’s enough angel left in him — and, therefore, in me — to prevent the angelic energy in your touch from harming me.” He pauses. “Which is fascinating, actually; I’ve obviously never tested whether other forms of angelic energy hurt me—”

Alec’s been only half listening — Magnus’s rants about magical theory are always fascinating, but Magnus is also bleeding out right now — but the thought of other forms of angelic energy sparks something in his head. “You think runes could work on you?”

Magnus frowns at him. “Quite possibly, but I’d want to try with something else first—”

Without a word, Alec grabs a witchlight from his pocket and pushes it into Magnus’s hand. The brush of skin-on-skin contact — the first in weeks — makes him shudder, but now is not the time. 

The witchlight glows red. 

Magnus stares at it. “Fascinating. But Alec, what—”

“If there’s any chance runes work on you,” Alec whispers, through the desperate clenching of his throat, “we have to try.”  

Wide-eyed, Magnus gapes at Alec. Had he really been so interested in the theoretical implications of his apparent immunity to angelic magic that he hadn’t spared a thought for the fact that it might save his life? By the Angel, Alec loves him more than words can say, and he is the smartest person Alec knows, but he can be incredibly idiotic when it comes to taking care of himself. 

“It could work,” Magnus mutters, “although no way of knowing for certain—” 

“But,” Alec says, desperate, “if the other option is definitely dying—”

Magnus nods, and Alec’s stele is in his hands before he’s consciously reached for it. 

Iratzes first, of course, one after another, traced with the careful precision of a lifetime of practice and the intent devotion of lifetimes’ worth of love, until the gaping hole begins to close. Then mendelin for strengthening his constitution, blood-replenishment runes, more iratzes—

On a Shadowhunter, that injury would have been dangerous, left alone to bleed out for so long. With a parabatai drawing the runes, it would’ve been fine, eventually; without a parabatai, Alec wouldn’t’ve lost hope, but he wouldn’t’ve been optimistic. For some reason, these runes seemed nearly as effective as parabatai runes; Alec didn’t have the faintest idea if it was because of the angelic energy humming under his skin, or because of Magnus’s heritage, or for another reason entirely, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

When reinforcements arrived, they found the two of them side by side, a slightly haggard Magnus still leaning against Alec but with plenty of colour in his cheeks. 

(Alec, on his part, had an arm around Magnus’s shoulders and didn’t plan to let go for a long while.)

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Raj: why is the High Warlock always so obsssed with Alec after ever Downworld cabinet?

Izzy: yeah Magnus is very friendly with you big bro😏

Alec: what?! I- that’s just Warlock customs 😳😩

Magnus masterminding his way into Alec’s heart 😂😂😂

Alec: Why do I keep thinking of the High Warlock ughhhh

Magnus, perfecting his sandalwood scent: What if I told you I’m a mastermiiiiiiiind

[carelessflower]

Magnus joining the Downworld Cabinet

Raphael: he's not doing anything to need that!!

Merlion: it's enjoyable at least

[ayearofmalec]

Malec as Time/Universe Travelers #22

Today, we have If My Heart Was A House You'd Be Home by magnusbicon (patrickbrewer) for you.

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Prompt: Max and Rafe accidentally time travel to present day during a Downworld cabinet meeting.

Link to the fic

Happy reading!

[bytheangell]

Running Home (To Your Sweet Nothings)

(Read on AO3) 

Maia’s tired. She’s beyond tired. In fact, she probably hit tired about three hours ago. She’s about two seconds away from kicking everyone out of the bar and closing early when her eyes catch on a small stone sitting on a small ledge behind the bar next to where Maia usually keeps her phone.

It’s enough to bring an instant smile to her face at the memory of the day she got it. Maia remembers walking along the beach with Becky, laughing about some ridiculous thing, when Becky suddenly stopped to lean over and pick up a pebble from the sand below. Becky told her to catch it and threw it to her, and the two of them took turns holding it or tossing it back and forth, and Maia kept it.

It’s so simple, so small, but it brings back such a good memory and immediate joy.

The world feels like it’s pulling Maia apart from every side - she’s practically running the Hunter’s Moon on her own at this point, on top of her leadership role in both her pack and the Downworld Cabinet. More often than not Maia feels like she’s drowning under constant demands and expectations, except when she’s with Becky. Becky never asks anything from her besides just her.

It’s that thought that carries Maia through the end of her closing shift. The moment she steps through the door to her apartment (though with how often Becky spends the night these days she practically considers it their apartment now) she’s met with the smell of something heavenly. Becky hums in the kitchen, making her way between a plate of pasta and the saucepan on the stove.

“Perfect timing! I just finished dinner,” Becky says.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Maia sighs happily, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before Becky pulls away to get the sauce off the burner before it, well, burns.

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Becky says with a grin. “Another long day?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Maia admits. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” “Do what?” Becky asks.

“I don’t know… all of it?” Maia doesn’t know what it is about Becky that always makes her so willing to open up and be more honest than she is with anyone else.

“So stop. Take some time off. Someone else can step up for a little while. A few days, or weeks… whatever you need.” “I don’t know…” Maia muses. That idea somehow scares her even more than being overwhelmed.

“Then stop for tonight, and let me take care of you,” Becky suggests, walking two plates of fresh pasta over to the table and setting them down before walking over to wrap her arms around Maia’s waist from behind.

“I think I can do that,” Maia agrees, melting into the hug. This, she thinks, is her heaven. This is where she finds peace, and she plans to cling to that peace for as long as she can.

Even if it’s only a night.

[thelightofthebane]

through the good and bad and all in between

Summary: Magnus was born a warlock. Magnus became a mundane for love and by self-sacrificing tendencies. Magnus turned into a vampire after an act of spite and revenge.

A story about survival, new identities, love through adversities, and accepting changes.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e17 Heavenly Fire, Vampire Magnus Bane, Turned without consent, Major Character Undeath, Immortal to Mortal to Immortal, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Boyfriend Alec Lightwood, Soft Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Cat & Alec friendship, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Rating: E

Chapters: 10

Words: Around 23k~

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

You can read it on AO3 or the last chapter below ~

Chapter 10 - I need you here 'til the very end

Seven years later

By some miracle, things settled for a long time.

No more catastrophes. No more Greater Demons or madmen. No more jealous ex-girlfriends. No more near-death experiences.

Jia and Lydia had become a refreshing powerhouse for the Clave. A rewriting of the Accords was even in the plans, and this time there would be more Downworlder representatives than before.

Alec had been helping Lydia with a project that would spread the idea of Downworld Cabinets for all Institutes, as well as some really needed reeducation regarding Downworld culture. Surprisingly, Alec chose Clary to be aboard in the project, and her suggestions of Mundane culture have been really interesting and useful for once.

The New York Shadow World was thriving too. Alec not only reformed the Institute and made sure no one under his leadership would mistreat a Downworld ever again, but he also put into action new ideas - like a mixed school for Shadowhunters and Downworlders’ children to learn together.

Magnus was…

Magnus was much better. His nightmares were still present, but few and far between. He seemed more settled in his new role, and despite missing his magic a lot, he could now think about it with fondness instead of grief.

They had married two years after Alec’s proposal. Jace and Clary married a year later. Simon and Izzy, four years later.

Jace and Clary became parents around the time Alec and Magnus celebrated their 5th anniversary. It also lit up a tiny flame inside Alec’s chest that wished the same with Magnus. Maybe it was time to have the adoption talk.

Well, if another disaster wasn’t about to happen, but judging by Izzy’s serious face, Alec didn’t want to push his luck.

“Please, don’t tell me you found out about another secret experiment by the Clave.”

Isabelle cracked a tiny smile, shaking her head.

“It’s something personal, actually.” She closed the door and went to sit on the chair in front of him.

“Are you okay? Did you and Simon fight?”

“No, although it has to do with him.”

Alec frowned in confusion. She smiled a bit more genuinely this time.

“I bet no one could’ve ever imagined that us both would end up in a committed relationship with vampires.”

Alec snorts. 

“Understatement.” He went back to write on a report mission, letting his sister to take her time to tell him whatever has been bothering her. However, when after ten minutes nothing more was said, he decided to push her a little bit. “What’s your point, Iz?”

“Have you ever thought about staying?”

The pen halted on the paper, and Alec needed a moment to comprehend what Izzy was saying. When it finally hit him, he put the pen down and looked at her.

“Yes,” he croaked, his eyes automatically straying for a drawer containing books and years of research. “Since Magnus was turned.”

“Did you find something?”

“Besides becoming a vampire? No.” Alec huffed, frustrated with the lack of alternatives.

“And that would be too bad?” Izzy mumbled, but her brother heard anyway and looked a bit spooked.

“W-What?”

“Look, it was one thing before when Magnus was still an immortal warlock. But he’s a vampire now. Would it be that bad to be the same as him?”

Alec’s frown only deepened.

She… had a point.

He was so worried looking for answers, he had forgotten that Magnus changed. He was still immortal, but a different kind. And if Alec did become a vampire, the only thing he would be sacrificing is food. He was sure that if he asked Jace, his brother wouldn’t mind giving him his blood, too.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, oh.” Izzy smirked, but it was slightly shaken.

“Is this what you want?”

The woman released an equally shaken breath and looked directly at her brother’s eyes.

“I do. Simon is… Simon is right. You know I’ve never cared much about love, but something in him makes me dream about things I didn’t dare before. He makes me happy in a way that hurts, you know? A good hurt, the kind that fills me up and makes me stronger and braver.”

Alec smiled, his eyes now finding the photo frame on his desk. Magnus and he were holding each other under a Sakura tree in full bloom, petals falling over them in a pink rain. They were both laughing, blissfully happy.

Yeah. He knew perfectly what Izzy was talking about.

“Besides, it’s not only about him. I… There is so many things I want to do now, and I think a single lifetime will not be enough. The project draft I showed you last week regarding more secure and efficient weapons, as well as high-tech shields… It’ll take years to heave at least one prototype done. I want to see this to its end, big brother.”

Alec hummed. Getting up, he got around the desk and crouched next to her. “Let me ask you again. Is this what you really want?”

Isabelle straighted up her shoulders and nodded with a fierce glare, full of determination and stubbornness that was practically a Lightwood trait at this point.

“Yes.”

“We have a lot to plan, then. But first, we need to talk to our parabatais, then our family. Simon and Magnus should come last, because they’ll be the most difficult.”

“I know… But you’ll be with me, right?”

“Always, Iz.” Alec grinned then. “Forever.” 

~*~

As Alec expected, talking to Magnus didn’t start well.

“Absolutely not! If… If I were still a warlock or you could stay as a Shadowhunter… But a vampire? No. Never.”

“Why not? You’re one!”

“You’ll have to die, Alec!”

“You died!” Alec yelled and suddenly a heavy silence wrapped the room, only their gasps filling the air.

Then, Alec sobbed, frustration and guilt still weighting his heart.

“You died… And I couldn’t do anything.”

But Magnus was equally stubborn.

“I can’t stomach the idea of you dying. Even if your intention is to come back.” He shook his head, shuddering. “Alexander, we don’t know if it works for Nephilim. Mundane blood is one thing. Even if you derune yourself so the runes won’t interfere, we don’t know what your angel blood might do. What if doesn’t work?”

“It does. Izzy and I researched. There are some cases of Shadowhunters who were attacked in patrols and turned, and some that turned willingly.”

They spent a couple of minutes just staring at each other, neither of them willing to back down.

Until Magnus deflated at last.

“You’re really serious about that, aren’t you?”

Alec nodded with certainty. Soon enough, though, his forehead creased in concern, a huge lump in his throat.

“Unless… Unless you don’t want me forever. Unless only a mortal lifetime would be enough–”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare imply that I wouldn’t want you for all eternity. I’m not ready to lose you now, and I’m sure I’ll never be. But I don’t want you to regret this, Alexander. Immortality is a curse. I… I don’t want you to resent me over time for this burden.”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“But I am, Magnus.”

“How so?”

“Because there isn’t a lifetime or universe where I would regret choosing you, Magnus Bane. You’re it for me. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

Magnus’ eyes fluttered, his eyelashes already damp although no tears had fallen yet.

“What about your family? Your parabatai?”

“I’ve already talked to them. Jace gave me his blessing, Max was totally chill about it, and my parents struggled a bit but agreed in the end without any fuss. And Izzy… Izzy will stay. With us. For as long as I live, I’ll have the love of my life and my baby sister with me.” Alec smiled.

“And Simon?” Magnus tried to joke, but his voice cracked with all the emotions currently overwhelming him.

“If it’s the price for Izzy’s happiness, I can tolerate him.” Alec shrugged. “He is your family, too.”

“I can deal alright with Sherman.”

Alec grinned, approaching Magnus and pressing their foreheads together.

“I promise I want this, Magnus. Trust me.”

“I do… It’s just… I’m afraid. You know how become a vampire is like a gamble. You either turn or your soul is trapped forever at the in-between.”

“I know. So, will you be my sire?”

“Oh god, I forgot about that. Yes, of course, but…” Magnus bit his lower lip. “Should I look for a way to…” He choked. “...to kill you quickly and painlessly?”

At that, Alec stepped back and looked horrified at him.

“Are you crazy? I won’t let you kill me! You already have enough nightmares for many lifetimes, Magnus. I won’t give you one more.”

“You should not die alone, Alec! It’s awful, believe me. I can’t let you take your own life either. I won’t!”

“Magnus!”

“Alexander!”

.

.

.

The immortality talk was never an easy one.

Even if they were sure about the ‘why’, they argued for weeks about the ‘how’.

It was Catarina who offered them a solution.

~*~

“Oh wow, we are going to be four!” Simon blabbed, all excited like a kid at a candy store. “We can already form our own club, The Daylighters.”

Magnus cocked an eyebrow and Alec narrowed his eyes. It was the same bullshit from his wedding-that-wasn’t with Lydia.

“You’re so lucky that Izzy loves you.”

“Of course I am. Actually, talking about her, what if we went on double dates after you two turn? I heard about this blood bar near Times Square that sells these cocktails with different blood types, and they have this tiny umbrellas made of-”

“Oh my God! I’m going to look for Jace and spar with him.” Alec groaned and left before Simon finished.

“He still hates me, doesn’t he?” Simon chuckled, this time without much humor.

Magnus’ eyes softened.

“Relax. You know how Alexander is. He might not say out loud, but he already considers you family.”

“Really?” Simon’s whole face lit up. “Then, we’re not going to be just a club. We’re going to be a family of Daylighters!”

And wasn’t that a whole concept?

Sometimes Magnus couldn’t believe that despite all the suffering, all the pain, all the choices taken from him… He could still have this.

A big family.

At first, it was only him, Ragnor, Cat and Raphael.

Then, they lost Ragnor. And Raphael was now a mortal, so their time together was limited.

But for the centuries to come, more people became part of their small, special bunch of immortal troublemakers.

Madzie, Simon.

Very soon, his husband and sister-in-law.

Maybe in the future… Their own kids.

Jace and Clary were okay with their mortality and opted to die as Shadowhunters. Furthermore, considering their extra angel blood, neither of them wanted to gamble with a high probability of failure. What if their super angelic blood burned the demonic virus and they remained dead? No, it was too dangerous to even try. But the Herondale-Fairchild clan would forever be assisted and protected by them, never letting Jace and Clary’s legacy to be forgotten.

They would all be okay.

“Yes, Simon. We’re really going to be.”

~*~

It took a couple more of years before they went forward with it.

Alec still had some last arrangements to do before retiring from the Institute and starting his new life as a vampire. Isabelle had already gone through the process, and it was her former parabatai's blood that turned her into a Daylighter.

Now, in his late 30s, it was Alec’s turn to take this unchangeable step.

They went back to Ragnor’s home, where everything has started. They dug a hole right next to Magnus’ grave, and stocked the place with bags of blood. Cat was there too, but this time she would wait inside the house until it was time to bury Alec’s body. They all agreed that, no matter the end result, it was better to not leave Magnus alone. What they were about to do wouldn’t be easy for either of them, but Magnus refused to let Alec be by himself.

“Do you think Ragnor would mind having me here too? I know you three agreed to be buried together, but maybe a Shadowhunter would be too much for him.”

Magnus smiled softly. “It was Ragnor that actually convinced me to fight one more time for us on that day of your wedding with Lydia. I’m pretty sure Ragnor would allow you here knowing you are the one whom my heart belongs to.”

Alec flushed, a boyish smile adorning his face. Oh… It was going to be the last time Magnus saw that pretty pink color on Alexander’s cheeks.

Well, it was okay, he thought.

Alec was still full of things Magnus absolutely loved. 

Under a big oak tree at Ragnor’s garden, they shared some more words and kisses, showering each other in promises and love.

They kissed for a long time, until Magnus slowly started a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to Alec’s neck. He licked and nibbled the sensitive skin around the deflect rune. Then, without holding himself any longer, he bit hard, breaking skin and making his husband bleed. Latching at it, Magnus drank the Nephilim blood, losing himself for a moment.

Alec tensed, feeling pain and fire and death under his skin, but soon his thoughts halted and his mind went numb.

Magnus was delighted, feeling how that was better than any blood he has tried. So delicious and addictive and his, only his.

“M-Magnus…” Alec whimpered, enough to break through the fog on Magnus’ mind. Alec’s blood dripped from his lips, the marvelous taste still exploding on his tongue. “I- Your… I need your blood…” Alec was paler, but he held himself with the determination of a man in a mission.

Magnus nodded, and using his fang, cut his own wrist and put it near Alec’s lips. A bit sluggishly, he also drank Magnus’ blood, grimacing at the metallic taste.

“There, you are doing great, my darling,” Magnus cooed, nuzzling Alec’s cheek until he reached the other side of his neck and bit there too, drinking more.

A moan and weak tap on his arm forced Magnus to stop again and look at his love. Alec’s eyes were glazed, half-hooded and dull. If Magnus still had a beating heart, it would’ve certainly stopped for a moment.

“Now… please…” He could see that Alec was barely holding up now. Quickly, he fished out from his pocket the potion Catarina made especially for that occasion. It would accelerate Alec’s death while he slept. Quick and painless.

Magnus helped Alec drank the murky green liquid, and soon enough the Shadowhunter’s eyes were dropping.

“L’ve… you…” He forced a breath. “See’ya… soon…”

“I love you too. I will be here, I promise.” Magnus took Alec in his arms, holding his husband with all the care and desperation in the world.

Alec’s heart started to slow down, the beats stuttering.

Please…

Slowly, slowly stopping.

Come back.

His breath turned into tiny huffs of air until it was gone.

You have to come back to me, Alexander.

A last beat.

Please.

Silence.

Please.

.

.

. 

Later, while waiting beside Alec’s grave, when a hand with a beloved and familiar wedding ring emerged from the dirt, Magnus knew everything was going to be all right.

They were going to be all right.

[lurafita]

Malec Bingo

The others regularly play Malec Bingo.

'Magnus makes Alec flustered'

'Alec uses innuendo'

'They are eye-fucking during a downworld cabinet meeting'

'Magnus uses a term of endearment for Alec'

'Alec makes Magnus talk about magical theory to stare at him like Magnus having a geek-out is the most adorable thing to ever happen'

Etc.

It takes Alec and Magnus a surprisingly long time to figure out why the people around them randomly yell out "Bingo!"

[irigy]

He wasn't going to lie, watching the guy fuss around and get about as panicky about getting dirt on his floor or his table as he was about almost getting torn apart by demons had Danny feel very much amused. Hell, it was almost cute. The stele twirled in his hand, his smile bloody as he glanced down at his runes, the same ones the other was looking at. "Just used this stele to heal myself up, basically." He pointed at his iratze rune. "This one is closes all cuts and wounds and relieves pain." His gaze dropped to the floor, following the droplets of blood that came from the other guy. His smile froze, and there was a hint of remorse in his voice as he spoke again. "I can't use it to help you, though."

He hopped off the table, then took his hoodie off before he looked at his hands. Not one tremble. Perfectly still, and calm, as it should be. It had been a while since he didn't end up breaking down after a fight. Progress. He wiped some of the blood off his palms and into his pants, looking around the place (and definitely touching some stuff). The clutter in the bathroom got him to approach after a while, seeing half of Jasper's body sticking out of the cabinet. "From all that organization out there you'd think the first-aid kit would be somewhere that's easy to see. So..." He started, leaning against the door frame. "You're either a mundane with the sight, or you're some kinda downworlder who got turned pretty recently... or you've just been living under the fucking rock. Can I help? You look like you need help."

wasn’t it dogs who were notorious for pressing muddy prints into the carpet, for chewing furniture, for ripping apart junk mail? that certainly wasn’t the case when it came to jasper’s home, a place as meticulous as he was. it was a trove of the prosaic, a jackdaw’s nest. bus tickets, old coins, photographs. “i said wipe your feet, please. don’t get muck on my floor.” he bothered around the entryway, smoothing down the welcome mat with his toe, glancing up and subduing a shriek as he realised where danny had unceremoniously plonked himself. “not on the dining table!” it was only a single-seater; jasper wasn’t one for guests. his hand shooed danny off the wood. “if you’re going to fix yourself up, go to the bathroom . . . or just stay upright . . . wh—what are you doing?” he had seen vampires, and now he had seen demons, but whatever sort of tattoos that littered danny’s body were new, unfamiliar. new york wasn’t like manchester, where those that weren’t quite human lived in the shallows, the underbelly. it seemed, wherever he turned, he bumped into a new species or off-shoot of a magical being—there were more creatures than there were theatres on broadway. jasper soon felt that familiar coppery taste in his mouth, a sickness as the ache began to swell throughout this body. he glanced down and realised a few little neat drops of blood on the wooden floorboards. even his wounds were kept tidy. “i should probably clean myself up. you . . . you just stay there and don’t touch anything.” he scurried off to retrieve the first-aid box, searching high and low in his bathroom, up on tiptoes and under the sink. muffled, with half his body stuffed into the cabinet, he replied, “—i’m jasper.”

[skylar102]

Here I am, with the angst prompt follow-up to mine you mentioned in our DMs on Discord. I'm tired and you explained it better so I tell you to just check your messages. But it was wonderful and heartbreaking and I absolutely encourage you to write it if you want. YOU SAID TO DROP YOU AN ASK SO YOU'D REMEMBER. SO HERE I AM. THANK 💙💙💙

HI EM APOLOGIES FOR GETTING TO THIS TWO YEARS LATER Read on Ao3 here

~~~

Magnus waits in the ops center with Isabelle and Jace. He was able to convince Alec to wait a few days before calling the cabinet for another brief meeting to apologize for how the previous one went. Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces when they went into the meeting, things have calmed, to what degree, Magnus doesn’t know. It’s moments like this where he wishes he was still High Warlock so that he could be there to help Alec.

The siblings must sense his worry because they stand closer to him.

“He’s going to be fine,” Izzy comforts.

“Yeah and if he wasn’t, I would feel it.” Jace points to where the parabatai rune rests on his hip. “He’s nervous but that’s about it.”

“Thank you,” Magnus sighs, shoulders losing some of their tension. “After that night at the loft, I’ve been worried about this meeting. I know how bullheaded everyone can get when it comes to the Clave and I know Alexander is doing his best. I would hope that the others know that as well.”

“I’m sure they do,” Izzy reassures. “I think that so many lives have been lost by this monster that not having found them yet is putting everyone on edge.”

“Doesn’t give them the right to yell at Alec like they all did,” Jace grumbles. Izzy reaches over and flicks Jace in the ear. “Ow! Hey, it’s not like they can hear me, the room is soundproof for a reason.”

Magnus is about to make a retort about them being surrounded by Shadowhunters who love to eavesdrop when the sound of double doors opening echoes through the ops. Everyone stills for a second before going back to work, though eyes keep darting to the hall the cabinet meeting is held in.

Alec leads the group through the ops center. Magnus can’t tell how Alec is feeling, his face is closed off and his shoulders are set— the perfect soldier stance. Magnus looks at the other cabinet members, they all seem relaxed if a bit tense, though Magnus also sees a hint of guilt on their faces.

Alec is escorting everyone to the front door when alarms ring throughout the institute. Immediately everyone is on guard as they look for the threat. Maia, Lorenzo, Meliorn, and Raphael tense and gather close to one another as they witness Shadowhunters rush to their weapons ready to fight whatever threat is approaching. Alec stands guard in front of them, making sure the more bigoted Shadowhunters don’t start pointing their blades at them.

Izzy grabs Magnus’ arm and pulls him away from the center so that people can assess the situation; Jace stands on his other side. He realizes that they are protecting him as well. It’s a kind thought, they both know that Magnus can take care of himself but at that moment it’s not about protecting Magnus from whatever threat is looming, it’s about protecting Magnus from their own people.

The alarms suddenly turn off, Magnus would prefer them to be on compared to the deafening silence that follows. No one dares move, eyes darting to every corner, tension slowly rising in the room the longer the silence continues. It’s broken when Underhill curses and Alec turns to his Head of Security.

"What's going on," Alec demands, starting to walk over to him.

"The institute's wards... they're down."

The next thing everyone hears is the distinct sound of a portal opening and Isabelle Lightwood screaming her brother's name as everyone witnesses the Head of the New York Institute get sucked into a portal.

The ops center erupts into chaos.

“Someone get a trace on that portal!” Underhill shouts as he rushes to his computer.

Izzy and Jace leave Magnus’ side, immediately filling in for their brother’s absence. Magnus barely notices them leaving, his eyes still trained on the last place he saw his boyfriend. He should have moved, he could have stopped Alec from being taken and all he did was stand there.

“Magnus,” a voice calls next to him.

Magnus looks at the person calling his name and sees Lorenzo approaching him cautiously. He doesn’t understand until he looks down and sees the red sparks flying off his hands. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and forces himself to calm down. Not the easiest thing to do when you just witnessed your boyfriend get kidnapped in a room full of Shadowhunters, a vampire, a werewolf, a Seelie, and two warlocks.

He tries to focus his mind on something else, a happy moment, which doesn’t work at all because all of his happy moments are of Alexander and his thoughts race once again to what happened. Lorenzo steps in front of him, as does Raphael, Maia, and Meliorn, shielding him from the prying eyes of the Shadowhunters who are trying to get a look at where Alec was taken.

“Lorenzo,” Magnus rasps. “You were closer than I was. Were you able to get anything on the magic?”

“A little, but not enough to trace it back to its owner,” Lorenzo answers. “If the warlock who took him hasn’t disposed of Alec’s electronics, then the Nephilim should be able to trace him in no time.”

Magnus nods his head in reply, trying to hold onto Lorenzo’s words. Raphael steps next to him, pressing a hand to the small of his back. It's grounding, especially when his usual anchor is not here. He leans into the touch and tries to relax. If his magic gets too worked up he won't have any to use against the warlock who took his boyfriend. Magnus waits with the others off to the side, no one wanting to leave the Institute in slight fear of being stopped and accused of being a part of Alec's kidnapping.

"He apologized," Maia says, breaking the silence between them. "He apologized for what he said and it looks like he was right."

"We don't know if it's the same person who's been kidnapping and killing Downworlders."

"Don't we?" Maia asks, turning to Lorenzo. "Alec said that his team found evidence of strange magic at the crime scene but since it was a warlock who was murdered they must have overlooked it." A low rumble echoes through the group as Maia clenches her fist. “The evidence was right there and now we’re too late.”

Meliorn jabs the blunt end of his staff at Maia’s foot and the werewolf curses the Seelie before realizing what she just said. Magnus would normally laugh at the gesture, but his mind keeps repeating her last words: too late.

“Not that we’re not going to find Alec,” Maia clarifies. “I meant that we were late in finding out who the kidnapper was.”

“Maia please stop talking,” Raphael sighs.

Magnus opens to tell Maia that he understood what she meant, but Isabelle is walking back towards them with a serious look on her face.

“We’re looking into tracking his phone,” she starts. “I know he brought it with him during the meeting, but he might have turned it off. We’re hoping that his kidnapper is not focusing too much on him to turn it on so we can track him.”

“Thank you, Isabelle,” Magnus says.

“We’re going to get him back,” she promises, taking Magnus’ hand and squeezing it tight. He can feel a slight tremor in her hands, but nothing about her posture gives away her own fear for her brother. “No one is going to take my brother away from me.”

“Izzy!” Jace calls from center ops. “He turned it on!”

Without even saying anything everyone rushes over to the console to look at the map. Magnus watches a red light blink in and out on the map. The warehouse district by the docks; even if Magnus had used a tracking spell, it wouldn’t have worked.

“What’s the plan?” Underhill asks. “The warehouse the warlock took Alec to is one of Valentine’s old labs. There could be anything there waiting for us.”

“Get a team ready, Underhill,” Izzy commands. “Jace and I will take the lead and scope out the place, wait for my signal to enter.”

Underhill nods and calls out Shadowhunter names that Magnus doesn’t recognize. Magnus can’t take his eyes off the red blip. His boyfriend is there, he should… he should…

“Magnus can make a portal for you,” Lorenzo says. Magnus didn’t catch the question but raises his head at the mention of his name. “The institute is currently defenseless with no wards. I should stay behind and get those back up and running for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rey,” Izzy says.

“Please call me Lorenzo, and it's the least I can do after my barely-there reaction when Mr. Lightwood was taken.”

“That’s not on you, we were all here and could have stopped it,” Izzy states. “Thank you, that would be great. Let Underhill know and he can get you an escort to go around the Institute and show you where the regular nodes go.”

Lorenzo nods and heads in the direction of where he last saw the Head of Security. Magnus turns his head to Isabelle and finds she's looking right at him.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be better when we get Alexander back,” Magnus answers.

“We have to take this warlock alive, no matter what condition Alec is in,” she says and he sharply inhales. Magnus opens his mouth to protest.

“Believe me, Magnus, there is nothing more I want to do than attack the person who took Alec, but you and I both know that Alec wouldn’t want us to ruin this case because we let our emotions get the best of us.”

“Could we forget just this once,” Jace asks, his hand is over his parabatai rune. “While Alec doesn’t seem hurt, that could quickly change. I am feeling small moments of panic through the bond and I don’t know what that means.”

“Alright we’re moving,” Izzy announces. The Shadowhunters that Underhill called for are waiting to the side and follow Izzy outside. Magnus and Jace go to follow but are stopped by the rest of the cabinet.

“Let us come too,” Maia asks, Raphael and Meliorn behind her. “We want to help.”

Jace looks to where Izzy went outside with her team and looks back at the trio. “It’s not my call to make. Izzy is leading this one and I don’t know if she wants more people to have to worry about.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Meliorn says. “Please, let us help save Mr. Lightwood.”

“Izzy is going to kill me,” Jace sighs. “Alright you can come along but anything Izzy says goes. She’s in charge and doesn’t take well to people who don’t follow her commands.”

“So just like her brother,” Raphael comments.

“Yeah,” Jace laughs. “Just like Alec. Alright, let’s go.”

“I don’t know what I expected when you said the location was one of Valentine’s old labs, but this is definitely not what I pictured,” Maia says as they all stare at the pristine warehouse in front of them. “I was thinking more decrepit and rundown. Not,” she gestures at the building, “that.”

“You and me both,” Jace says.

He, Magnus, and the other Downworlders are standing off to the side while Isabelle instructs Underhill and the others. She wasn’t too happy with them all coming but she quickly changed her tune when Raphael pointed out that it would be safer for them to go inside rather than as a whole Nephilim squad especially since some Downworlders are still missing and could be trapped inside as well. Better to have their kind do the freeing than Shadowhunters.

Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off the building, looking to every window for any sign of Alec. He knows that the warlock who’s taken him is probably smart enough not to keep his boyfriend near windows where he could escape. Magnus also knows that Alec wouldn’t be dumb enough to try and jump out one of the two-story windows, but a small part of him wishes that he would so he could see him with his own two eyes again.

Jace lets out a grunt next to him and puts a hand over his parabatai rune. “Dammit, Alec,” he curses. “Stop antagonizing your captor.”

“It wouldn’t be Alec if he wasn’t stubborn about also being kidnapped,” Raphael snorts and Magnus sends him a side-eye. “Don’t look at me like that, Magnus. He’s your boyfriend, you know how stubborn he can be.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Magnus sighs. “Knowing Alec he’s probably keeping the warlock’s attention on him and away from the other captives.”

No one tries to dispute his words, all of them well aware of Alec’s protective streak when it comes to helping people in need.

Magnus looks over to Isabelle, sees her give a nod to Underhill and his team, and watches them disperse around the warehouse. She turns towards them, determination on her face.

“Alright, Underhill and his team are going to stand guard outside and around the warehouse while we go inside,” she details. “They’re going to make sure that no one escapes while we are inside. Whatever wards Valentine had on this building seem to be back in effect which means the warlock won’t be able to escape unless they get outside.”

Isabelle reminds Magnus so much of how Alec runs operations like this, it’s almost like he’s looking at the female version of his boyfriend. He knew that Isabelle would be a good leader, had seen it in action a few times, but at this moment he can tell how much she’s learned from her brother.

“From the blueprints and maps we were able to pull up from the Institute,” Isabelle pulls out a small device from her pocket and activates it and a hologram of the warehouse before them pops up, “the most likely place they are all being held in this area.” She clicks on the hologram and it zooms in on an open room showing details of cages and tables. Bless the Nephilim’s advanced technology. “It’s the only place in the building that could hold the kidnapped Downworlders and I have to assume that Alec is there as well.”

“That seems a bit obvious no?” Meliorn asks.

“We have to assume that the warlock doesn’t know that we have the schematics for this warehouse,” Jace answers. “After the place was raided months ago, the clave sent in their best to give us this 3D image of the place since destroying the entire building would do more harm than good.”

“Surely destroying everything inside wouldn’t be that dangerous,” Maia snorts.

“Not when Valentine rigged the place to blow up if anything was taken from the place,” Jace says. Everyone turns their heads to the building and then back at Jace and Isabelle who just shrugs. “We were lucky to have a warlock hired by the Clave look over everything before we took stuff for evidence.”

“That’s insane,” Maia stutters.

“Well, Valentine was insane, I’m surprised that the building didn’t blow up the second we stepped inside,” Izzy says. “Now let’s head inside, there’s a side door around the building that is going to be our best option.”

Everyone nods and follows Isabelle inside; Magnus notes that Jace stayed behind to cover the back of the group. The inside of the warehouse is opposite to what the outside looks like. The rusty, leaking pipes and the occasional rat are more of what Magnus knew about how Valentine ran his operations.

“Well, you were half right Maia,” Meliorn notes. “This is definitely a place that Valentine would use.”

“This is so gross,” Maia gags, stepping over a dead rat. “How did a mastermind like that bastard even work in these conditions.”

“You forget the man was insane,” Raphael snorts. The vampire is clearly also disgusted by the condition of the interior. “I think he was too focused on torturing our kind to notice the decaying building around him.”

“You should have seen the boat he had,” Jace jokes. “That would give this place a run for its money.”

“I’m sure it would,” Maia grumbles.

Jace seems to get the message to shut up and continues to be the back lookout silently. Not before sending Maia a wordless apology for bringing up the boat. The werewolf shrugs back but it’s clear that she is still bothered over being reminded of the place where Valentine took some of her packmates. Jace and Maia are on good terms but that topic is a sore subject for the both of them. Jace probably didn’t even realize what he was saying until it was too late.

Magnus sends them both a look of sympathy before focusing on the task at hand. Gently, he reaches out with his magic to the side rooms around to see if there is a sign of life anywhere.

“These rooms hold nothing in them,” he informs Isabelle as he walks alongside her. “You were right about the warlock probably keeping them in the center of the warehouse.”

“Of course it is,” she sighs. She pulls up the hologram and checks to see where they are on the map. “It should be right up ahead, but the fact that we haven’t heard anything is-”

And just like that an agonizing scream echoes through the halls. Everyone freezes in their tracks except for Jace who would have fallen to the ground if Meliorn hadn’t been there to catch him. It takes everything in Magnus not to rush forward and kill the bastard hurting his husband.

“Jace,” Isabelle says with a slight rasp to her voice.

“Fuck,” Jace gasps. “He’s- he’s fine.”

“That didn’t look fine,” Raphael comments.

“I think, I think he was electrocuted,” Jace grunts out, standing up with the aid of Meliorn. “It didn’t last long, but it hurt like a bitch.”

Magnus takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Now is not the time to not have control of his magic. “Is he-”

“You Nephilim are all the same!” A female voice shouts down the hall.

Magnus feels his stomach drop. He knows that voice. Not even a few months ago she was sitting in his loft talking to him about her concerns with the Downworld cabinet. Silva was worried that the Nephilim were taking advantage of them by forcing them to go to these meetings. She knew that he was close to Lorenzo and wanted him to talk to the High Warlock to convince him to step out.

Magnus had reassured her that the New York Institute wasn’t like the other Institutes that she had been around. Silva had seemed to get more distressed the more he didn’t agree with her that he had stopped mentioning the Institute and tried to calm her down. It didn’t work and she had stormed out of his loft with a promise that the Institute was going to betray them.

Magnus had felt so bad about the whole thing that he mentioned to Lorenzo that he should do a check-up on her. He doesn’t know if the man did or not, but even if he did, it’s apparent that she was already too far gone.

The groups start to slowly make their way down the hall. Silva seems to be throwing a tantrum by the sounds of it. Broken glass and a loud clanging echo around them. Magnus can hear other voices shout in fear meaning that it’s not just Alec she has captive.

Magnus is so focused on the sounds of people that he misses the pipe that is thrown in his direction. Thankfully, Isabelle grabs his arm and pulls him out of the way in time. He stares at the rusty pipe now embedded in the drywall and stares at Isabelle in shock.

“We should hurry,” she says, letting go of his arm and making her way to the door where the pipe came from.

“This is getting crazier by the second,” Maia comments.

“Her name is Silva,” Magnus says. “She was a warlock that came to me about concerns with the cabinet and that Alec was mistreating you all and only going to betray us in the end.”

“Has she met Alec,” Raphael snorts. “That man would rather stab himself than hurt one of us.”

“Well, she seemed to have it in her head that Alec was only hosting the cabinet for us to let our guard down so that he could take us out. I should have paid more attention to her ramblings,” Mangus scolds himself.

“This is not your fault, Magnus,” Meloirn says. “As you said, she was already rambling about false accusations. Knowing you, I know you did the best you could do.”

The others nod their heads in agreement and Magnus feels a bit of the guilt fall off his shoulders. It doesn’t make the small part that says he should have warned Alec about her go away. He remembers how she spat his name during that talk. He doesn’t even remember why he never brought it up with Alec.

He and the others catch up to Isabelle who is peeking through the doorway. Magnus takes the other side of the door and looks through. He immediately finds Alec who is on his hands and knees panting heavily. There’s a burning fire in Alec’s eyes that doesn't leave Silva as she paces around the room.

Magnus also spots a few Downworlders on the other side of the room, in the same cages that were left behind. They all look terrified, eyes going from Silva to Alec. Lilith knows how long they have been trapped here or what they have witnessed Silva do.

“Raphael, Maia,” Isabelle says, staring up at the ceiling. “Are you guys comfortable with heights?”

Magnus looks to where she’s staring and sees a walkway above the room. It would give them easy access to the cages on the other side of the room.

“What are you thinking?” Raphael asks.

“We can’t go in,” she explains. “That could cause Silva to have any kind of reaction that could put everyone at risk. If we can get to the other side and get to the cages first then we have a higher chance of everyone making it out alive.”

“Sounds good to me,” Maia says. “I think I see a staircase leading up over there.”

“Perfect,” Isabelle says, turning to Magnus, Jace, and Meliorn. “The rest of you stay here until we get in position. If things start to get crazy before we make it across, I want you, Magnus, to go in and try to talk to her. You said you spoke with her before, you’re probably the best choice to distract her.”

“And if he can’t?” Meliorn asks, getting a glare from Isabelle. “All I am saying is, from what I am seeing, Silva doesn’t seem stable.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Magnus promises. “While she might be crazy, I still have more experience than her.”

“If you say so,” Meliorn agrees.

When there’s nothing else to say, Isabelle gives Jace a nod and takes Raphael and Maia with her to the top. Magnus watches them disappear up the stairs and focuses back on the scene in front of him.

“The Nephilim and Downworld will never be on equal grounds!” Silva preaches. “I tried to tell the cabinet, tried to tell Magnus, but he wouldn’t see the truth!”

“And that makes it okay to attack, kidnap, and kill your own kind?” Magnus hears Alec ask back. He can’t see where Alec is, but his voice sounds strained and abused.

“I’m protecting them!” The woman yells. A loud boom echoes, followed by screams of fear.

“You are keeping them in cages and experimenting on them. You are no better than the man who once ran this operation,” Alec refutes. “You say you’re protecting them when all you have been doing is taking them away from their families and killing them.”

“Shut up,” Silva growls and Alec lets out a pained yell. Magnus watches as the warlock wraps raw magic around Alec, constricting him.

Magnus is about to rush out of cover when a hand on his chest stops him. Jace shakes his head at him. “We have to wait for the others to get into position,” Jace whispers.

He points to the walkway and sees that the others are barely halfway there. The thing must be rusted to hell and back. They’re going slow as they can to create the least amount of noise.

“She’s going to kill him,” he growls.

“Just give them time,” Jace says. “If we mess this up then she’s going to kill Alec and the others. We have to make sure that the other Downworlders are safe first before going in guns blazing. She’s outnumbered but that doesn’t mean she won’t have a trick up her sleeve, especially with how this place is set up.”

“Herondale being the reasonable one,” Meliorn muses behind them. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Jace snarks back. “I’ll go back to being my regular old self once my brother is safe.”

“And the Downworlders she has captive,” Meliorn points out.

“Yeah, that too,” Jace says offhandedly, peeking around the corner to look for Izzy’s signal.

“There’s the Herondale I know,” the Seelie says, giving Magnus a side-eye.

Magnus rolls his eyes at the two and turns his attention back to his boyfriend. Silva hasn’t let up her magic around Alec and he’s looking like he’s struggling to breathe.

“You think you have everyone fooled, but not me,” Silva barks, walking towards Alec. “I know what you’re planning.”

“I am just trying to make your people feel safe,” Alec wheezes out.

“Leave him alone!” A voice shouts from one of the cages. The others freeze in their position when Silva’s attention goes to the Seelie that spoke.

“What?” Silva says sharply.

“Mr. Lightwood has been nothing but kind to us! You’re the only one who has been hurting us!”

“I have been protecting you!” Silva shouts. Her barely controlled grasp on her magic slips and launches Alec across the room. He slams against a metal beam and collapses like a ragdoll, unmoving.

Jace wouldn’t have even been able to stop Magnus if he had been able to reach him because Magnus is already halfway across the room with red magic sparking at his hands.

He should take a breath. He should calm down and think logically.

He should have stopped Silva the moment he laid eyes on her.

He hopes that Isabelle will forgive him.

Silva’s back is to him. He uses the blindspot to his advantage as he whips out magic and binds her. Silva lets out a frightened scream as she struggles against the binding. She turns her head to see Magnus standing there, fury written all over his face.

“Magnus,” she gasps, still struggling against the bindings. “What are you doing? I saved you from that monster!”

“The only monster I see is you, Silva,” Magnus states. He looks behind her and sees that the others are breaking the Downworlders out of the cages. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jace run to Alec. Raphael and Meliorn seem to be guarding the two exits.

“No!” She disagrees. “It’s these Nephilim, these Shadowhunters that are the monsters! They have killed and hunted us for centuries! They have tortured us! Look around you, Magnus! This place used to be an experimental hub for the most dangerous Shadowhunter in recent history.”

“And you seem to be continuing his work,” Magnus states, his hands clenching and tightening the bindings making her gasp. “Seems that even you didn’t learn from the past.”

“They were going to kill us all!” Silva argues. There’s a wild look in her eyes that makes Magnus feel sorry for her. She’s clearly been through a lot in the past century but that doesn’t make what she did okay. “That man over there is just using you for his own personal gain! I was going to let us be finally free from it all!”

“What evidence do you even have? Because right now all evidence of the murders of our people lead back to you.”

“And I was so close to pinning it all on him! Don’t you see Magnus? I was doing all of this to help our people,” she reasons, clearly not seeing how insane her idea is. “If you let me go, I can make it so it all looks like it points back to them.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Magnus barks out. “Everyone here knows what you did and what you have been doing. Even if, for some insane reason, I would let you go, all evidence points back to you.”

He snaps his fingers and magic-resistant cuffs lock themselves onto Silva’s wrists. He releases his hold on her and watches her drop to the ground. She lets out a wail as she struggles to summon her magic and get the cuffs off. He watches her writhe a moment more before turning his attention to Alec and Jace.

He jumps at the hand on his shoulder and sees Meliorn.

“Go take care of Alec, I’ll keep an eye on her,” the Seelie says.

“Thank you and— sorry,” he apologizes.

“You’re going to regret this Bane!” Silva shouts at him as he walks away. “It’s only a matter of time before they go back to their old ways and kill us all!”

Magnus ignores her words and goes to check on his boyfriend. He lets his anger turn into concern when he sees that Alec hasn’t woken up yet. He kneels opposite to Jace and gathers the unconscious Shadowhunter in his arms. The only thing stopping him from killing Silva is the warm breath he feels against his neck.

“He’s fine,” Jace informs him. “His back took most of the hit, not his head. I think all the other damage from Silva is what knocked him out. Who knows how long she was torturing him.”

He nods his head, not removing it from where it’s tucked into Alec’s neck. If he moves from this spot he is going to attack Silva, so he stays where he is until he’s gotten control of his emotions. This is going to sit with him for a few weeks, he just knows it. He’s sure the others feel the same. He knows that Alec would never hold it against them. His boyfriend is too kind for that.

“Is he going to live?” Raphael asks, approaching the trio.

“Yeah, he’ll live,” Jace answers for him. “Though with how tight Magnus is holding him, probably not for long.”

“Fuck off, Chase,” Magnus grumbles. Though he is noticing how tightly he is holding Alec and releases his grip on the Shadowhunter. He pulls back enough to get a view of Alec’s face. He’s still unconscious but he doesn’t seem to be in any pain.

“Oh, Alec,” he whispers, cupping his boyfriend’s face. He looks up at Raphael and sees a disgusted look on his face. Even with his emotions all over the place, he can’t help but roll his eyes at the vampire’s reaction to his affection for Alec. “How are the other Downworlders?”

“They’re shaken up, but they’re more worried about Alec,” Raphael says. “They asked me to check up on him while Izzy and Maia checked them over for any injuries. Apparently, Alec was antagonizing Silva to keep her attention on him and not them. Your Shadowhunter,” he gags out, “seems to have a bigger protection streak than you. Something I didn’t even think was possible.”

“You’d be surprised at how big his heart is,” Magnus says with a smile.

“I don’t want to know about your sex life,” Raphael comments before walking away, leaving a flabbergasted Magnus and a cackling Jace behind.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” He glares at Jace who is still laughing.

“With you,” Jace chokes out between laughs, “I never know what you mean when it comes to my brother.”

“You’re both horrible people,” Magnus says.

“Stop being mean,” a tired voice says. Magnus is pretty sure he gives himself whiplash with how fast he turned his head to Alec.

“Alexander?” Magnus asks, eagerly awaiting to see those beautiful hazel eyes. He props Alec up in his arms as he watches Alec’s face scrunch up and let out a groan. It takes everything in Magnus not to immediately kiss Alec as soon as his eyes open.

Which, good thing he doesn’t, because Alec’s eyes shut again, and his body spasms. Magnus is about to pour all his magic into his boyfriend but is stopped by the look on Jace’s face.

“Everything hurts,” Alec groans, leaning into Magnus’ chest more. He snuggles more into Magnus’ neck trying to shut out the light from the warehouse. Magnus, one to never deny Alec his cuddles when he’s grumpy, allows Alec the comfort of being enveloped in his arms.

“Well, you were electrocuted who knows how many times,” Jace informs him. “So you’re gonna be sore a bit before the rune heals your nervous system.”

“Sucks,” he says against Magnus’ neck.

“Yeah well, don’t get kidnapped by a psychotic warlock next time.” Jace gives Alec a gentle pat on the back before standing up. Jace gives him that look he always does when he leaves Alec to his care and Magnus gives him the same nod he always does.

“Is there anything you need me to do?” Magnus whispers into that familiar dark mop of hair. He runs a gentle hand up and down Alec’s back whilst small spasms still shake his body.

“Stay here,” Alec asks, snaking an arm around Magnus. “Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone but you,” Magnus says. “I am sensing a pattern here that I don’t like, Alexander.”

“I was born with bad luck,” Alec jokes. “Can’t help it if everyone wants a piece of me.”

“Well, they can’t because every piece of you belongs to me,” Magnus chuckles. He rests his cheek on Alec’s head. “They’ll have to get through me to get to you.”

“My own guardian angel.” He feels Alec smile against his neck. “I like that.”

The sound of familiar heels disturbs their small bubble of rest. Magnus looks over and sees Isabelle marching towards them. Her face is neutral which means he is either about to get cussed out for what he did or die. There is no in-between.

She crouches down next to them but still keeps a foot of distance between them. She looks between the two and Magnus can feel himself tensing more and more the longer she takes to speak. He feels the arm around his waist squeeze in comfort. Alec moves a bit to peek a look at his sister.

Just as Magnus opens his mouth to apologize, Isabelle lets out a long sigh. “You are so lucky that my brother loves you,” she says. “That could have gone horribly wrong and not only would we have lost the prisoners, but Alec as well.”

Magnus' arms tighten around Alec at her words.

“Next time I will leave you back at the Institute,” she says and he knows she means it.

“Well I hope there won’t be a next time at all,” he replies, trying not to wither away under her gaze.

“Now that we can agree on,” she says, standing up. “Take him home, Magnus. I’ll finish up everything here and wait back at the Institute.”

“But Izzy-” Alec starts.

“But nothing. You were kidnapped and tortured, you don’t get a say until you are fully recovered,” she argues, looking down at her still twitching brother. Her face goes soft when she notices the small movements. “Just take care of yourself first for once, Alec. Trust me to handle this.”

“I always trust you,” Alec states.

“Good, then head home and lay in bed all day and have Magnus fret over you like he always does.” She doesn’t even wait for them to reply to the light-hearted jab before walking away.

Magnus just stares at her back, gobsmacked by her words. He lets out a small huff and holds Alec closer. So what if he frets over his boyfriend? It’s not his fault that Alec still has trouble knowing how to rest and take care of himself.

Alec still shakes below him but now it feels more intense. Worried that it’s getting worse he pulls back to check on Alec only to realize that his boyfriend is quietly laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Magnus asks.

“Izzy read you like a book,” Alec chuckles, only to wince when another spasm happens.

“You can laugh later,” Magnus says. “Let’s get you home.”

With a snap of his fingers, Magnus lowers a portal over them and teleports them to the loft, specifically their bedroom. He’s not about to try and carry his boyfriend to bed from the living room. He’d probably cause more harm to Alec than comfort. His beanstalk of a boyfriend is all legs and while he does appreciate the height, it makes carrying him bridal style a nightmare.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Magnus says, changing their clothes to pajamas. “Think you can stand for a brief moment?”

“I can try,” Alec says.

It’s a slow process but Magnus eventually helps Alec get to his feet. He doesn’t leave his boyfriend’s side, slinging Alec’s arm over his shoulder as they take tentative steps towards the bed. Alec’s muscles give out on him only once, thankfully, even if it almost takes both of them out. Magnus helps Alec into the bed and goes overboard with making sure that Alec is comfortable. He can hear the endearing sigh from his boyfriend as he fluffs his pillow for longer than necessary.

“Okay!” Magnus announces. “I need to make a few calls so I shall leave you to rest and relax.”

He sends a pointed look at Alec who only raises his hands placatingly. Alec is so tucked into bed that Magnus isn’t even sure he could leave the bed if he wanted to. Which is exactly what he wants. He motions with two fingers from his eyes to Alec, getting a snort from the man in bed, and leaves the room.

He leans against the door and lets out a long sigh. Then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees all the texts from the others. He goes to the drink cart and makes himself a martini before sitting down on the couch, preparing himself for the conversations he’s about to have.