#high warlock of alicante magnus

[kasirose]

Happy Birthday to one Magnus “too much” Lightwood-Bane!

[lawsofchaos1]

Shadowhunter Promptlet: Obeisance

In honor of the impending AO3 Shutdown Great Panic, please have a writing promptlet from one of my oldest journals. Fun fact: this is the predecessor to my angsty fic For Every Bird There Is a Stone. :)

~

When Alec is sixteen he discovers that his parents were in the Circle.

Not trusting any story they would tell him, Alec doesn't ask his mother or his father about their past, going instead to Alicante on official business and slipping the Hall of Records on his way back to New York.

Alec reads the file he illegally copied and is unsurprised to learn they were highly ranked- Maryse was one of Valentine's highest generals- and neither his mother nor his father stopped killing Downworlders without reason until it was made a condition of their parole.

Alec wishes he was surprised.

The file on his parent’s activity estimates the number of Downworlders they murdered and tortured, but no names are listed. The werewolves and the Seelie and the vampires and the warlocks are all left almost entirely anonymous, not even a cursory effort to identify them.

Alec reads every single word in both documents and discovers that there is one name contained in both, a single name that belongs to the only known survivor of his parent's wrath under Valentine's orders: a warlock that Maryse and Robert brutally tortured before his escape. Magnus Bane.

Alec is livid when he finds out that Magnus was never so much as apologized to, not even when he was later contracted by his parents to perform magical upkeep of the NYI wards after their parole.

When Shadowhunters have wronged another, the strongest expression of regret and repentance in nephilim culture is performing obeisance before the one who was wronged. It’s an expression of complete abjection and humility, acknowledging you (or one you are responsible for) have wronged the recipient and your punishment is in their hands.

In response to what he’s learned, Alec petitions the Clave for not only the Institute in full, but also the Headship of the Lightwood family.

Disgusted as they are by not only Maryse and Robert’s past actions, but also by their cowardice in refusing to take responsibility for their actions in the Circle and their present action in effectively leaving the Headship of the NYI to their son since he was fourteen, the Clave agrees. After the ceremonial transfer, Alec goes directly to Pandemonium. 

Magnus asks sarcastically if the new Head of the NYI is there to lay down the law or to make trouble. Alec doesn’t respond. Instead, he disarms himself, laying his weapons on the ground. All of them.

“Last week, I petitioned the Clave for Headship of not only the New York Institute, but also the Lightwood family. Both were granted, making me directly responsible for the future actions of all Shadowhunters under my command, but also for all actions of the Lightwood family, future and past.” 

Alec breathes deeply. “My parents, Robert and Maryse Lightwood, were in the Circle and believe wholly in the racist, genocidal doctrine preached by Valentine Morganstern. They committed unspeakable atrocities in his name to all factions of Downworlders, but when they spoke of their crimes to the Clave when requesting leniency, they only named the species of those they murdered and tortured without remorse. Except for you, High Warlock Bane. You, they named.”

Magnus was coldly imperious when he spoke. “Did you come to request absolution on their behalf, Shadowhunter? Because you certainly won’t receive it from me. Your parents slaughtered dozens for no other reason than their blood, and I will not forgive them.”

Alec nodded. “I didn’t expect you too. However, when I accepted the Lightwood Headship, the responsibility for their crimes became mine to bear. Although I know that this will be no consolation for you or for the friends and families of those hurt by my parents, you should know that I have ordered them confined to their home in Idris for the rest of their lives. They will never again bear weapons or act as members of the body of the Clave. They will never again harm another Downworlder. You have my oath on that.”

Magnus raised a brow. “A letter would have sufficed if that’s all you have to say.”

“No.” Alec paused. “Are- are you aware of the nephilim Rite of Obeisance?” 

Magnus paused for a fraction of a second, only noticeable to Alec given his closeness to the warlock. “I’ve heard of it, yes. It’s only been performed twice in the past century, if I remember correctly?”

Alec’s lips twitched sardonically. “It’s fallen out of favor since it requires admitting fault and accepting the consequence without possibility of appeal.”

Magnus’ own smile was cruelly amused. “Yes, I can see why you nephilim might not like that thought when the Clave hands out pardons to anyone with an old enough family name.”

Alec didn’t respond for a long moment. When he did, his voice was soft, but not hesitant. “Like they did to my parents.”

“Yes,” Magnus agreed, even though Alec hadn’t made it a question.

Alec closed his eyes for a brief moment in acknowledgement, then looked up to lock gazes with Magnus. “High Warlock Bane,” Alec’s voice was pitched to carry, his intonation suddenly formal. “As Head of the Lightwood Family, Maryse and Robert Lightwood now fall under my responsibility. They have both committed grievous harm to your person and have also committed grievous harm, including murder, to an unknown number of warlocks under your protection. Their crimes have not been punished by the Clave, nor can their crimes be fully addressed by anyone other than one harmed by them.”

And before the astonished eyes of all those present in Pandemonium, Alec sank to his knees, bowing forward until his forehead touched to floor in front of Magnus’ feet.

“As the one bearing responsibility for their actions, I give myself wholly to you in the fullest expression of remorse I can offer. In recompense for the harm done to you and yours, everything I have, up to my life, I give in offering to you.”

[keepxsolxinxsolxinvictus]

Malec (aka Matthew Daddario and Harry Shum Jr.) Say Goodbye to 'Shadowhunters'...for Now

On that epic finale, fandom, and weddings...onscreen and off.

By Emily Tannenbaum

Published: May 07, 2019

[Bringing back an oldie from Cosmopolitan]

As I corral Harry Shum Jr. and Matthew Daddario around the Cosmo offices, Matt bounces on his heels, pointing to random objects—like a fancy golden coffee table and fuzzy pillows—asking me if he can bring them home with him (the answer is always "no"). Harry is much more calm, back straight and confident, happy to just laugh at his co-star.

It's jarring how their roles are almost the reverse of their characters: For the last three years on Freeform's hit series Shadowhunters (based on The Mortal Instruments, by Cassandra Clare). Matt played Alec Lightwood, the stoic half-angel leader with a heart of gold, while Harry embodied the eccentric Warlock Magnus Bane, always moving, portaling somewhere or changing his look...not to mention throwing shit around his beautiful New York apartment.

As they say, opposites attract, and Matt and Harry captured the hearts of the entire Shadowhunters fandom as a certified power couple. Malec has certainly had their share of rom-com moments (they share their first kiss when the warlock crashed Alec's first wedding) and dramatic breakups (don't remind me about 2X18). But last night, Shadowhunters gave Malec the happy ending they deserve, complete with gorgeous wedding and happily ever after as the Inquisitor of the Clave and High Warlock of Alicante.

A wedding finale is hardly unheard of in the TV world, bordering on cliché, but for Shadowhunters there was truly no other option. The union of a strong gay man and proud bisexual has been the cornerstone of this fandom throughout its run, inspiring countless LGBTQ+ fans and landing a GLAAD Award for Outstanding Drama (not to mention sweeping the 2018 People's Choice Awards the same year as its premature cancellation). How else do you celebrate their legacy, if not by throwing a giant party and giving our boys one more showstopping kiss?

Of course, as surreal as it is to discuss the end of Shadowhunters with the ship to end all ships, it's even tougher for them to say goodbye. Here, Matt and Harry talk about the Malec wedding, balancing fandom with real life, and why Alec had to stay mortal.

The Malec Wedding

Tell me about the wedding. You’ve built this relationship for three years now, and you’ve seen how massively people have reacted—what did it feel like to give them that milestone?

Harry Shum Jr.: It had to happen. It was a great moment to bring everyone in and say, "Look at this joyous moment."

It was nice to have everybody back on-set. It really felt both, for the show itself and for us as a whole, that this was a great ending. Because it was the last thing we filmed. I'm happy that we got these two episodes so that we could do it because it would have been really unfortunate if the fans hadn't gotten that wedding. And then fans can play in their heads now, Magnus and Alec are married and doing whatever.

Matthew Daddario: You know, it's like the end of a chapter.

Harry: We're safe now.

So correct me if I'm wrong, but Alec is just a Shadowhunter still? He's not immortal.

Matt: Just a Shadowhunter? [Laughs] Yes, I am.

Some fans were really rooting for Immortal Husbands...like, intensely. How do you feel about this?

Matt: This is the thing I always have trouble understanding is that people want the immortality. And this is a topic that's been written about and discussed for thousands of years, and everyone comes to the same conclusion: the curse of immortality. It is not always the best thing in the world to live forever. In fact, that's close to this kind of a godliness that is considered almost like a living hell.

For Magnus, he's living and living in this endless loop without the repercussion of the totality of life. And if Magnus was instead mortal, would we not celebrate their wonderful life? But it's because he's immortal, we worry about what happens after the fact.

Matt: Right. You can get killed. They're immortal, and then they get the shot off the top of the castle walls, and you're like, "Whoa, that's screwed up." But at the same time, every mortal has to deal with that. [Turns to Harry] So it's not your mortality that you're upset about when you first lost your powers. You're not upset about the mortality, you're upset about the loss of your identity.

Harry: But here’s the difference: It’s not the immortality that you get shot and you can’t die.

Some fans just want Malec on an even playing field. But I find it really sad that Alec would have to live and lose like Jace and Izzy—

Matt: Right. Magnus lost people constantly, and he was kind of a shell of a person at one time. Up until meeting Alec, he's filling his life with debauchery, anything to heighten the senses. And, you know, trying to find places where he can take care of people. And he does get involved with helping vampires because they're immortal as well. There is a kind of emptiness to him in the first season.

Harry: No, for sure. And I think then there is the big switch.

Did you get emotional reading the final episode?

Harry: Everyone did at the table read. One of our producers reading off the narration, he couldn't even get through and actually walked out and someone had to take over. And then there was this silence in the end when the last words were spoken. I think that silence spoke volumes.

Has the end of Shadowhunters hit home for you yet?

Matt: I think it will hit me when I don't think about it for a week. If one week passes without me thinking about Shadowhunters, I will say, "Shit."

We think about it every day. This is a huge part of our lives. This is three years of this. And this show, it's a hit. People are talking about it, people from around the world. It's hard to deny that.

Will you still engage with Shadowhunters stans, or are you emotionally ready to move on to another world?

Matt: Look, we're done filming Shadowhunters, but the fans of the show are always welcome to ask questions and all that kind of stuff. But eventually, we're going to run out of new answers.

I'm always happy to talk to a Shadowhunters fan because they are enthusiastic, they care about what they're talking about, and many of them have built friendships off of it, so it matters to them, and therefore it matters to me.

Harry: Because you gave a part of your life.

Matt: Your job is to have an effect on people, and therefore you have a certain responsibility to engage with the people who are affected by this. You can choose not to, you could choose to go completely incognito or to ignore it, but to dismiss it is, frankly, insulting and kind of silly and maybe slightly narcissistic.

But I think that you do need to have an understanding that you're not any different or special because of this involvement with culture. And why would you want to be miserable about it? Why wouldn't you embrace it?

Matt, you kept your own wedding a secret until your one-year anniversary. Was it harder to keep the details of the finale secret or your wedding?

Matt: [Laughs] It was definitely easier to keep the wedding secret. I just told everyone no one's allowed to take photos. And people did a pretty good job with that.

Harry: Yeah, sometimes I think it's a nice...regardless of what your profession is, but particularly ours, to have something just for yourself.

Matt: Not to say that people don't deserve to know, but I think that anybody would feel like, hey, I would like this moment just to be mine for a little bit.

People can be a little bit demanding. One time this girl is walking down the street, I'm walking down the street, she's on the phone, it's the middle of the day, she's FaceTiming somebody.

She sees me, she stops me by the touching me on the shoulder and says, "Oh, whoa, wait, look! Look who's here!" and hold the phone up like this and goes, "Crazy!" and then keeps walking. And I'm like, fuck you. Like, what the fuck?! [Laughing] You don't do that to someone.

It just felt so invasive. It just feels a little bit like, you're not a human. You're the thing I see on TV. But I guess it's just excitement, whatever.

You obviously know about the #SaveShadowhunters campaign. What would you say if suddenly, some other network wanted to pick up the show?

Harry: I think it's a conversation. You know, we love playing these characters. But as time passes, things change. Like introducing a baby into your life, or whatever the next phase is.

But it's also a wonderful group of people. So, of course, instead of saying, "Absolutely not," it's definitely open for conversation for me.

Matt: Honestly, the ending is successful. And, you know, there's a danger now. What if you screw it up? [Laughs]

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

i needed some inspiration last night for a particular scene so i watched shadowhunters last night after quite some time and I couldn’t stop laughing because show Alec was absolutely fucking unhinged I have never met a more deranged man. This man asked his boyfriend to move in with him not three days after he got rejected for the same thing mans had no chill he wanted magnus’s babies so fuxking bad from day 1 and he’s so unintentionally funny with his “can’t believe I stopped the ley lines destroying the system all on my own with the power of my biceps and with no help from my powerful warlock boyfriend” and I will never get over the fact that the first thing both book and show alec did after becoming Consul/Inquisitor was to 1. Change the laws so he could marry magnus bane/ 2. create an entirely new high warlock position for his husband in alicante because he knew how magnus was sad for a hot minute when he was removed as HW of New York. i watched show malec after a long time (idk why that is?? show malec slapped so hard lmao) but man was show Alec absolutely insane and my favorite babygirl and that’s why he continues to be an icon

[malec-ao3feed]

Yes Mr. Inquisitor

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jAt4qwc by Queer_and_trashy Magnus’ hand cupped gently against the side of Alec’s face. “Even if the ideal situation doesn’t come to pass, just making those demands in that space will mean something.” “I agree,” Alec said, biting back a smile. “But the position is already filled.” “What? By who?” Magnus became immediately defensive on his behalf like a cat puffing up their fur. Alec couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from his lips. “They apparently also have a choice for a new position as well. Something about a high warlock?” Aka Alec accepts the position of Inquisitor with some conditions and celebrates the new title with his pet high warlock. Words: 9845, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Jia Penhallow Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Additional Tags: Inquisitor Alec Lightwood, High Warlock of Alicante Magnus Bane, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom Alec Lightwood, Sub Magnus Bane, Office Sex, Cock Warming, Impact Play, Caning, established kink dynamic, Anal Sex, Pet Play, more in energy than explicit roleplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, except for a little bit of politics and relationships in the first half read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/jAt4qwc

[lurafita]

The "high" Warlock

What if it's called "high warlock" because assuming the leader position means that the warlock connects with the lay lines of the place they are responsible for, and this first connect leaves them literally high for a while.

When Magnus later becomes high warlock of Alicante, Alec has his hands full taking care of his epically stoned husband, because the ley lines in Alicante are more powerful than anywhere else in the world.

[faejilly]

hello!! absolutely adore your writing <3 no worries at all it not, but may i request an alternate pre-series meeting in canon / canon-adjacent where valentine is actually dead? always very curious about how malec’s relationship might change if they met and started dating Not in the middle of a really intense war lmao, so i thought maybe their first meeting would be a good starting point? but don’t sweat it if this doesn’t strike the fic muse <33

asdfjklgh thank you! so this MORE THAN struck the fic muse, but I got distracted by a tangent as to how it all Got Very Different™️and have not actually introduced Malec to each other as of yet but if you'd like some Magnus going what the fuck? at the Clave actually being competent this will hopefully be entertaining. AND ISTG I will get to Malec meeting! Eventually?

A familiar flare lit up his apothecary, and Magnus reached out to catch the fire message. The flames sparked brighter, and he blinked away the after-images as something heavier than he'd expected solidified between his fingers.

A single sheet of paper, cleverly folded up to resemble an envelope and keep the message inside; there was the unfortunately familiar black curl of a rune along the edges.

Magnus grimaced.

It was probably some horrifying form letter designed to intimidate him into something that was not remotely his problem, but he was going to have to clean up regardless. Shadowhunters didn't request things, they ordered, and brow-beat, and the only reason they got away with it was because they treated everyone equally terribly, including themselves, and to be quite fair to their militaristic grand-standing, the world was continuing to not be overrun by demons, so it seemed to be working for them.

Even Valentine hadn’t made much of a dent in their self-righteous arrogance. The Lightwoods hadn’t lost possession of the Institute they’d killed to get, buying clemency with their children, from what he’d heard, which was even worse than typical nephilim parenting. Despicable, ev–

He blinked. That wasn't the New York Institute's watermark, it was the Inquisitor's.

He tilted it to let the light from the windows spill across it, but that was very clearly the silhouette of a Demon Tower behind two crossed blades, not the broken stone the Clave had required the New York Institute to use after the Uprising to signify its failure to uphold their so-called sacred duties.

He huffed out a breath in not quite a sigh, and felt a frown starting to form between his brows. It was easier to deal with Inquisitor Herondale and her people than the Lightwoods. (She at least hated Valentine as much as the downworld.) But that didn't mean a formal letter was likely to be a good thing. Whatever had happened in the aftermath of Valentine's attempted coup had been kept very quiet behind Alicante's borders, and everything the downworld got to see had returned to business-as-usual.

He rolled his eyes, because nephilim, but ignoring one of their summons made them even more petty and obnoxious, so he turned it over to unfold.

And stopped again upon seeing how it was addressed.

High Warlock of Brooklyn Senior Scholar of the Spiral Labyrinth Ambassador of the Accords The Right Hon. Magnus Bane

They'd used a fountain pen and written in proper uncial calligraphy and if he hadn't known that the magic for fire messages didn't work on animal skin, he might have thought they'd used actual parchment rather than what must instead be a very high quality paper stock.

"Huh." He peered down at the letters, trying to think if he'd ever seen a nephilim address a notice to a downworlder in the same formal terms they used amongst themselves. And then almost dropped the whole damn thing when he realized that the initials scribbled across the fold in lieu of the wax seal that would have prevented the fire message from activating properly were IWH. And in the exact same calligraphy as the address.

"What the fuck." He spoke aloud, louder than he'd expected or intended, almost loud enough to startle himself even as he flung the whole thing out and away.

He watched as it fell to the floor, and he stared at it.

It still just looked like paper.

It had to just be paper, the rune to send it wouldn't have worked otherwise, but High Inquisitor Imogen Whitelaw Herondale had written on that with her own hand and sent it to Magnus as if he was an equal and what in all seven hells was that about?

He stepped sideways, unable to convince himself to look away from those initials even as his fingers scrabbled across his desk in search of normal paper and pen to send a message of his own.

Ragnor, could you please indulge me with your thoughts for a moment?

He'd half expected he wouldn't get an answer, not even another fire message or a call on the phone in the other room; Ragnor had been even more of a hermit than usual since the Uprising. (Not that Magnus could fault him for that. If he wasn't a High Warlock he probably would have disappeared into the countryside somewhere as well.) But instead he felt the familiar press of Ragnor's magic against his wards as a portal opened almost immediately in the foyer.

"Apothecary!" Magnus called out, still staring at the paper on his floor.

He heard footsteps, felt Ragnor's magic approach, could even see the shadow stretching towards him when Ragnor paused in the doorway. "Ah, you got it too?"

That finally made Magnus blink, the hold of the strange message broken. He turned his head and lifted his eyebrows.

Ragnor shook his head. "I think you need to experience it for yourself."

Magnus snorted, but stepped forward, picked up the paper, and this time he unfolded it and began to read.

And then read it again.

And again, even as Ragnor came to stand beside him.

"What the fuck," he repeated.

Ragnor grunted, apparently not having any more idea than he did.

"Do you think it's real?" Magnus asked, and he could hear the almost plaintive whisper of something he couldn't pretend wasn't hope in his own voice.

"Only one way to find out." Ragnor's voice was dry, but gentle. There was hope hiding in his voice, too. "Shall we?"

*

It seemed real the next evening.

They arrived in front of the New York Institute to find Theo and Gretel from the closest Werewolf pack already there. A pair of fae nobles Magnus didn't recognize, both in full Court regalia, one Seelie and the other Unseelie, arrived a few minutes later, just after the last lingering blush of daylight faded, escorting Raphael and Lily who were here for their Clan.

Magnus almost asked if any of them knew what the fuck was really going on, but did in fact retain his composure and instead just lifted his chin to wait. (He had to admit, even if just to himself, that he was glad Camille was off somewhere being Camille rather than here in New York to represent the vampires and make this whole situation even more uncomfortable.)

They didn't wait long.

The double doors to the Cathedral swung wide open, rather than the main entrance that led to the central hub of the Institute and the Heads' Office. The High Inquisitor herself stepped out, and fucking bowed to them, and Magnus made a small noise of disbelief that he would deny to his dying day if anyone ever asked. (He didn't think anyone would, however, as he had not been the only one. In fact he was pretty sure the only one who hadn't betrayed their surprise was Ragnor, though the fae had managed no more than a slight shift in posture or positioning.)

"We have set up precautions so all may enter." Herondale paused, and tilted her chin towards Ragnor and Magnus. "I understand if you wish to verify before anyone tests my word?"

Magnus stared at her. She'd just admitted that they had no reason to believe her. She'd admitted it out loud and didn't even sound upset about it.

Ragnor bumped his elbow, and Magnus tucked it all back behind his High Warlock mask. He nodded back as formally as he could manage before lifting his arms and letting his magical senses expand.

There was something inside that was still warded enough to prevent him from being able to tell what it was, but its power was passive rather than active, so it wouldn't be able to be turned against them without warning.

There was also an echo of banked power that felt suspiciously like Silent Brother -and- Iron Sister -and- Soul Sword which was a thing the letter had mentioned but he hadn't been sure he'd believed; (especially that it was only there for Herondale to swear on rather than to be used against the rest of them, somehow). Beyond either of those, it was also very clear the resonance from the Angelic Core had been banked, somehow, the blessing to make the ground hallowed had been covered and muted, and it was entirely safe for any downworlder to enter, regardless of age or power level or wards.

He couldn't quite resist a glance at Ragnor, whose expression indicated he was right there with Magnus and his inexplicable conclusion. Ragnor managed to imply a shrug with the shift of his eyes, and Magnus turned to their fellow downworlders. "She's correct, the building is completely safe for us to enter."

He refrained from suggesting that the nephilim in the building were trustworthy, as they'd all already decided to take that risk when they'd shown up in response to Herondale's summons.

He supposed the fae might not have decided so much as been ordered, but regardless. They were already here. And it was time to see if the rest of it was true.

The rows of pews were nearly full of nephilim in mourning white, more than Magnus suspected usually served in New York, all of them eerily silent, heads politely bowed just enough to lessen the weight of their attention on the entering downworlders.

Behind the chancel, in the raised choir stands, there were additionally about a half-a-dozen black-clad guards, an Iron Sister in gleaming white, a Silent Brother in his bone-dull robe, and the Soul Sword itself, the ruby glinting in its hilt.

To the left of the altar were half-a-dozen nephilim children roughly equivalent to elementary school aged Mundanes, only one of whom had the steady glow to Magnus' senses of a runed Shadowhunter rather than the flickering eldritch taste of angelic potential that the young ones carried before they received their first Mark.

Except for one small red-head just under ten who was familiarly blank, and he realized that the Inquisitor must have found the Fairchilds because that was young Clarissa, still under the power of the wards her mother had paid him to build for her.

He hoped Dorothea was safe, wherever she was. He hadn't felt her magic break, so at least he was reasonably sure she was still alive.

He swallowed, let his gaze skip over the draped stand centered on the aisle in front of him, and focused instead on the dozen adults opposite the children, each with a visibly red Circle on their neck, their shoulders all stiff in the distinctive posture of prisoners whose hands were chained behind their backs. Some of them he didn't know at all, a few were only vaguely familiar, but then there was Jocelyn herself, and Starkweather, and both Lightwoods, and someone who looked eerily similar to the Consul himself.

There was one man beside the rest with his hands cuffed in front of him instead of behind, his Circle rune dark and quiescent rather than inflamed, a Chinese Shadowhunter standing next to him, close enough the white of her sleeves brushed against his arm, with neither a Circle rune nor any restraints on her at all.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice." Herondale spoke up after giving them all a moment to look around, and without another word she turned her back to eight potentially hostile downworlders and knelt before the Sword.

The Silent Brother lifted his hands, the pressure of his attention clear even when he didn't say anything. The Iron Sister lifted the sword, balancing it gracefully in such a way that it tilted gently down from her grip until the tip almost rested on Herondale's forehead. The ruby glowed, and the flare of angelic power was strong enough to sizzle against Magnus' skin. Carried along with the magic was the Silent Brother's intent, and the Inquisitor's voice filled the Cathedral, both inside and outside his head, resonating in his bones and his blood.

"The traitor Valentine Morgenstern has been killed, and the only surviving nephilim members of his Circle are here to face their final sentencing, as witnessed by the Downworld Leaders of New York City, in this the soul of the New York Institute, a place most wounded by his actions. This truth I swear, upon the Angel Raziel and His Mortal and Immortal Instruments, as High Inquisitor of Alicante and Idris, Commander of the Gard, Elder of the Clave and Council, Head of the Herondale Family, Blooded Shadowhunter and Mother of Soldiers, Lady Imogen Whitelaw Herondale."

Magnus swallowed, ignoring the burn in his eyes and the faint taste of copper down his throat.

The Soul Sword compelled the truth from the nephilim, but all it required when they swore upon it was that they believed in whatever truth they spoke.

This ritual was something else entirely. The balance of the magic he'd just witnessed, a trio of complementary powers braided together, Brother and Sister and relic, knowledge and skill and power, secrets and vows and faith, with each separate piece enhancing the other two, meant that Herondale couldn't have sworn on something that was untrue at any level, even if she'd personally believed it all the way down to her bones.

"Well, fuck me."

Magnus snorted, barely stopping himself from giggling (possibly slightly hysterically) at Ragnor's sotto voce reaction. Not that he'd been thinking anything any more eloquent.

It was real.

*

The rest of the meeting was less dramatic. Even whipping the cover off the stand in the middle to reveal Valentine’s head encased in silver-edged glass had been less shocking. (Well, to the warlocks and fae, at least. Vampires and werewolves weren’t quite as able to feel the way the ritual had invoked truth magic against the nephilim, so being able to examine (and presumably scent) proof that Valentine was dead was a bigger deal for them.)

The former Circle members were all going to be deruned, exiled, and imprisoned, each alone at a different Institute so they couldn’t work together and their status could be verified by downworlders whenever they wished, unlike traditional prisoners kept in Alicante at the Gard.

There were two exceptions. One: Lucian Graymark, now Luke Garroway, was a werewolf, and the nephilim abdicated their authority and explicitly left his punishment up to the downworld itself. Second: the man who’d been standing slightly separate from the other prisoners, Patrick Penhallow, who had avoided participating in any of the Circle’s true atrocities and was the one who had discovered Valentine was alive and hiding with the presumed dead Herondale heir and promptly informed Imogen personally. He was still to be exiled from the Clave and Council for punishment, but would be allowed to continue as a Shadowhunter and would, in fact, be staying in New York City where he would be an official liaison to the downworld.

But only if the downworld representatives summoned agreed.

Magnus wasn’t complete sure which part of that was supposed to be mercy and which part was punishment, but he was surprised enough at the validation offered to himself and the other representatives that he did, in fact, agree to it along with everyone else.

That wasn’t even the last surprise though.

No, it got better.

Worse?

Magnus wasn’t sure anymore. He was going to tell Catarina about this and she wasn’t going to believe a single damn word he said.

Instead of re-opening their Academy in Alicante, the nephilim were going to train their children at the Institutes, and would include exposure to and lessons from former mundanes and current downworlders. The children there in the chapel for this meeting were the orphans of the Circle, whose parents were all formally being removed from their bloodlines, and this new generation would be raised in New York City.

Imogen Herondale herself was going to be acting as Head of the New York Institute with Jia Penhallow (Patrick’s wife, who had not ever been part of the Circle) as her Co-Head until such time as as the downworld agreed that the next generation of nephilim seemed sufficiently un-Circle-like and one of them could be appointed.

(That wasn’t, of course, how she’d said it, but it was clear enough.)

Magnus was mostly in shock and just nodding along at that point.

When she’d confirmed that the downworld was reasonably accepting of all of that, and had even told them how to contact Patrick directly with any questions or concerns, she slipped into something that looked like parade rest, and without a bit of warning that Magnus could recognize, the entire chapel-full of nephilim all stood at the same time, chanted “ante faciem Angelus” all together, and then they bowed, too. All of them, each with a hand over their heart, respect and responsibility and something that felt like an apology ringing through the air. From nephilim. To downworlders.

“Fiat justicia!” Herondale called out in response, and the nephilim filed back into their institute, and the black-clad guards very politely escorted the downworlders the other direction and shut the big fancy doors behind them, and Magnus was blinking at Ragnor in the street outside the Institute again.

“What the actual fuck.�� Gretel broke the silence first.

Magnus started laughing, and nodded in agreement. That absolutely covered it.

The Clave had said they’d dealt with the Circle, and requested the downworld’s input, and claimed that things were going to be different this time, and it was all really, truly, completely, real.

[alexanderlightweight]

I don't think I even have an ask but Lawd that older Alec raised by his strict Trueblood grandparents is just gold. That ending where he smirks at Jia and sends Izzy and Jace back to Alicante? *chefs kisses*

My asexual ass is so so attracted to a competent confident Alec who knows his boundaries and had the freedom to demand and enforce them. Just ... I adore him putting everyone in their place. How does he meet Magnus in this verse? Do we know how the differe t power balance at the beginning changes their dynamic, if at all?

I am so happy with everything in this verse but will always always appreciate more when others can send in prompts you like for it.

oh i'm glad it's being enjoyed! have a piece because this will kind of explain some of the power dynamics between them.

and well, i think it's pretty well known how much i love competent!malec and individually impressing each other with competence, not just their teamwork. and this alec was raised differently, he's much more confident than canon!alec.

<3 lumine

-

Alec takes a breath and then, before Magnus twirls his fingers and excuses himself, steps around his desk.

Their meeting is done, they are no longer meeting solely as leaders to different factions of the same world.

“Magnus—” Alec says, because he hasn’t let himself get this far to be held back by his fears. “I can’t go out with you publicly, not anywhere right now. It wouldn’t be safe, for either of us.” Because Alec knows the clave will try and use this as a reason to attack Magnus.

He’s the High Warlock of Brooklyn and on the Council of Elders. He’s the inventor of the portal and the Inventor.

Magnus is as feared as he’s revered and renown and Alec can’t afford to let either of them paint a target on each other’s back and Alec isn’t prepared to protect Magnus from Alec’s enemies, or himself from Magnus’.

“I— you can say no. You deserve someone who can stand proudly by your side—” Alec doesn’t see the wide-eyed, shocked way that Magnus is staring at him. He’s nervous but he knows what he wants and it’s only because he wants this so badly that his words try to slither away.

“But I want that, someday. So, if you’re okay with it, we could start with drinks? Somewhere just the two of us.”

“And where would we find the right level of privacy, Alexander?” Magnus says and he steps over to Alec, gliding like an arrow through a cloud and Alec bites back a sigh of want.

“Anywhere you think is safe. I trust you Magnus,” Alec tells him, because he does. Alec would never have asked Magnus back to redo the wards entirely if he didn’t trust him, no matter how beautiful of a man he is.

Alec trusts his instincts and his instincts purr when he’s near Magnus. Magnus’ presence and his magic and even now, the wards of the Institute, are soothing and Alec adores them.

“It’s the clave I don’t trust. I have no real family backing anymore, Magnus. I’m a valuable asset to the clave but I’ve never dabbled in politics. I would have no leverage in the face of their bigotry, and I’ve seen what the clave does to people it doesn’t like.”

—

Magnus waits a single breath and then he steps up to Alexander and reaches out, tilting Alexander’s face up from where Alexander is studying his hands with a determined furrow.

At first, Alexander’s gaze met Magnus’ own, but it grew shuttered and shadowed as Alexander remembered the evils of the clave. It’s what assures Magnus that this isn’t because of shame — Magnus has had quite enough of being a dirty little secret — and is entirely about survival.

Alexander is wise and methodical in a way that tells Magnus he must have plans and Magnus is willing to extend a little trust, to make this a mutual admittance.

“I’ve lived it.” Magnus tells him quietly, “so never doubt that I understand the power and hatred the clave can wield. If that is your reasoning than I can accept it, I can even agree with it. You wouldn’t be safe here, not yet.”

Alexander seems pleased and a little surprised that Magnus is being mutually considerate, and Magnus mentally tuts as he leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Alexander’s mouth.

This will be — by Alexander’s admittance — his first relationship due to Alexander growing up with what he calls ‘higher standards than what my mother had’.

Which is a rather low bar until Magnus realized that Alexander has denied every single person he’s ever met, until meeting Magnus. Which means that Alexander must feel the same instinctual, almost primal interest that Magnus does.

So, in the interest of respect, Magnus is going to be as gentlemanly and courteous as he can bear, for Alexander’s sake.

That is the plan, at least until Alexander whines against his mouth.

There’s a displeased grumble when Magnus starts to pull away and then strong hands are wrapping around Magnus. An arm around his waist and a hand on the back of his neck.  Alexander is inexperienced but hungry and eager and determined.

He licks into Magnus’ mouth, their teeth clacking together until Magnus croons and gentles him, tugging on Alexander’s hair. He sucks on his boy’s tongue until he has Alexander’s fingers leaving bruises on his skin.  Magnus groans into the kiss and drags his teeth down Alexander’s tongue, leaving a sting behind that has Alexander grinding up against him.

“Magnus—” Alexander whispers against his lips, “unless you glamour yourself, you’ll need to portal out of my office, and I don’t think we should give that part away just yet.”

Magnus freezes, because he didn’t realize Alexander knew he’d left a backdoor just for Magnus. Alexander smirks at him, kiss bruised lips pulled into a smug grin as he lets Magnus pull himself away. 

Magnus knows he must look much the same kind of debauched and he sighs, snapping away the signs with his fingers before he gives Alexander a leer.

“When you said you’d never been interested in anyone before, I didn’t expect this, Alexander.” He raises an eyebrow teasingly and gets a chuckle in return.

“I said you’ll be my first, I didn’t say it was because of a lack of offers.” Alexander smirks at him and Magnus wants to lick it off his face. “I’ve had enough past suitors hoping to become my wife that I’m not lacking in my self-worth, Magnus.”

“Did you?” Magnus asks something writhing inside of him and he steps forward, giving Alexander a parting kiss and biting his lip in farewell. “Well, perhaps darling I’ll just have to give you even better reasons to be confident. I’m sure I can find ways that outmatch those of failed suitors?”

Alexander nods, delight in crinkling of his eyes as smiles, basking in Magnus’ promise and attention.

[justawanderer]

Questions I have about Shadowhunters (specifically the Freeform show) after rewatching for the Billionth time:

1. Who the fuck is reading all of these reports that the hunters are continuously sending to Alicante? I wanna know a day in the life of the poor schmucky analyst that has to wade through all of them from all of the varying institutes.

2. Does literally Anyone other than Alec and Jace understand the parabatai bond? They both attempt to explain an issue they are having with it to other people throughout the seasons and are brushed off or ignored Everytime.

3. Also people obviously do not understand parabatai because I cannot fathom being the HotI (Aldertree) and having my best fighter (Jace) defect to a genocidal maniac’s side (that’s what the Clave thought happened) and Not placing his Parabatai in a holding cell. I’m so sorry but if I was Head the very first thing I would have done after heading about Jace would have been to lock up Alec. (Also the fact that Alec can bark out orders to the Ops floor and have every single person snap to attention and listen while Lydia and Aldertee can’t do that is hilarious)

4. Why is everyone(in universe) acting like 2.5 weeks of Knowing about the Shadow World and living at the institute is enough time for Clary to be proficiently trained? Her training sequence with Izzy had an audience that was low key making fun of her? I dare anyone reading this to train in quarter staff for an hour or two a day for 10 days and face a black belt and let me know how that goes. Like Izzy and Jace are the ones who failed clary, she understandably has a ton going on.

5. Why is Magnus one minute super understanding of everyone and powerful and savvy as High Warlock and the next minute arguing with Alec about Alec not paying enough attention to him? The argument in season 2x01 is ridiculous. Alec is rightly upset about Jace being missing tries to articulate to multiple people but especially Magnus, how Jace being missing is making him feel as a parabatai, and Magnus’ response is “I know I can be too much?” What the absolute fuck were the writers doing reducing Magnus to a petulant, jealous, jilted lover here? I’m not excusing rude behavior on either Alec or Clary’s part, but no one is reacting to either of them in a way that seems like they understand what’s happening.

6. What fucking time is it? What day is it? When do these events take place? Oh my fucking god the timeline on this show drives me bananas.

Yet I’m still continuing to watch it. And hopefully fic some of these things in my fics.

Again, this is a show based rant.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Question! We know that the show takes a very different route for the characters (and how everything works is already different). When Max and Rafe are found (because I refuse to believe they wouldn't), Alec will be Inquisitor already and Magnus the High Warlock of Alicante. And they will be leaving in Alicante, not New York. Max and Rafe would grow up in a slightly different environment. How do you think David would enter this story? Very early? As an adult? What would he be doing?

Max and Rafe are a canon event 😌

I don't think it would necessarily make a big difference. David will probably run away to Idris (instead of New York) to tell the Inquisitor about his papa.

And then he meets Max :)

Alec as an inquisitor has a very different vibe than Consul - because Inquisitor is responsible for upholding the law/Covenant and we know Albert has been breaking it for a while by hurting David. Alec will NOT be forgiving lmao.

[dhampiravidi]

Mortal Instruments Medieval Fantasy AU

what I wouldn't do for a Medieval Fantasy AU where the Lightwoods, Morgensterns & Herondales are all nobles descending from actual angels, while the Lightwoods are part of Alicante/Idris's City Watch & ofc Magnus is the High Warlock/magic advisor person--

Oraia as a playful nymph or a "fallen goddess" (god from another pantheon who's weakened)--

Cathan as the lost Morgenstern heir, who's busy fucking around with the fey--

Jas as a knight in the Watch, who's also the Wayland heir & eventually Jace's personal bodyguard because I deserve to see it--

Demons could either be from a specific evil country, or from the dimension Pandemonium like in the books.

[lawsofchaos1]

Shadowhunters Promptlet: Jace & Lydia

Tl;dr, but a side comment in a group chat ended up accidentally prompting an idea for how to make a realistic Jace/Lydia. Please see the following for my semi-attempt: Jace/Lydia: Delightfully Political Chaos Imagine, after Clary's memory loss and Jace's acceptance of her not coming back, he finds himself slightly at odds. His parabatai is bossing it at being Inquisitor, his sister is doing the same after taking over the NYI, and Magnus has made his role as High Warlock of Alicante absolutely indispensable.

Jace is mostly content as Head of the Inquisitorial Guard, but after that first harrowing year where Jace and Alec (and therefore Magnus) had lived on a constant knife-edge of vigilance against the last, desperate waves of Valentine's loyalists, his skills typically lay fallow these days. The sharpest he needs to be is in the training hall and Jace itches for the electric-hum thrill of a real fight.

Alec isn't some Idris-soft politician, barely able to swing a blade without injuring himself. Outside of a few rare periods of high threat, Alec doesn't need Jace to stand between him and danger. Alec and his husband are perfectly capable of making their foes rue the day they decided to go up against the Inquisitor and the High Warlock.

However, Jace… Jace needs to be needed.

Enter, from stage left, LYDIA BRANWELL.

Lydia is a frequent guest at Magnus and Alec's home, usually with Jace present as well. Lydia will never love anyone other than John and Jace will never love anyone other than Clary, but Jace and Lydia become fast friends as they bond over their shared loss (and several bottles of unfortunately expensive tequila). Lydia has made political waves after the war, rising rapidly through the ranks on the way to her end goal of Consul. While Alec could easily go after the role himself, he has no desire to handle the endless meetings and social politics of the position so long as someone he trusts holds it. He much prefers the role's complement - the enforcement required of the Inquisitor. Alec is beyond pleased at Lydia's desire for Consul and they've already schemed at how he can support her bid.

However, no matter the advancements since the war, Alicante is traditional. While Lydia's gender makes no difference to them, the fact that she is unmarried does.

Lydia needs a husband. Moreso, Lydia needs a husband who won't expect romantic love and one who can handle what it means to be the spouse of the Consul, and, before that, the spouse of a very liberal, and therefore controversial, Consul-elect. A guard in the short term and someone that Lydia can happily send after her (and likely Alec's) enemies in the long-term.

To make a very long story short, Alec is incredibly delighted at the opportunity for humor that presents itself when Jace announces his and Lydia's intent for a political marriage the following month. (Magnus perhaps even more than Alec to be honest.)

[theredraccoon]

Safe Haven

Summary: A few years after returning to New York from Alicante, a tragedy spurs Magnus to stretch the boundaries of knowledge and magic in pursuit of a noble goal. A goal that will force change in both the Clave and the Downworld, bring hard truths to light, and deepen the relationship that he has with his husband in unforeseen ways. There is hope here, and peace, and bright new beginnings.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: non-explicit child death, sex

Pairing: Malec, side Jimon

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the Malec Discord Server

Artwok by the Amazing Jevan

Link to AO3

Chapter 1/4:

June 21st

The spell took three months. Three months of intense, draining, exhausting effort from Magnus , Catarina, Lorenzo, and the sizable contributions of a half dozen other warlocks. It was the first of its kind, requiring a level of sophistication such that it was on par with Magnus’ invention of the Portal, and if it worked, it would be rolled out in other cities besides the five boroughs of New York. 

Magnus watched as Catarina, clad in a long white gown that glowed against her blue skin, stepped up to the northernmost spot on the chalk pentagram, meticulously drawn on the smooth concrete of the penthouse roof. The location of the spell had been yet another argument but in the end, Magnus had won. For a spell of this magnitude and complexity, every bit of familiarity and connection to his magic was important, and Magnus had been casting on this part of his rooftop for more than two decades. As he stepped onto the lower right point of the star, he felt the energy beneath his feet practically leap into his hands, eager to be used. He inhaled rapidly as it rushed in, then breathed out slowly and carefully as it settled into him. 

One by one, he watched the other warlocks step into place. Lorenzo Rey, top left. Húlí Min, top right. Blaise Spear, bottom left. Each represented a borough of the city and believed in the mission that gathered them all here tonight, on the summer solstice. 

Once all of them had assumed their places, Catarina cleared her throat, making brief eye contact with each warlock as she asked, “Are we ready?” 

Magnus met her eye and allowed a brief smile to touch his lips as he answered, in sync with the others, “We are ready.”

“Then let us begin,” she said, and all the light of the day, the light of the longest day, from the first sweet breath of sunrise to the very last gasp of sunset, started to gather together in her hands. 

Later, as Magnus watched the golden net, twinkling and sparkling, slowly descend on their city, he cast his thoughts back to six months previous, when this journey had begun.

***

The potion was in its very last stages and Magnus’ feet were killing him. The potions he created during the winter solstice were always finicky and exacting, needing rare ingredients added at extremely precise times. It was always aggravating but ultimately rewarding, the effort matched by the beautiful concoctions that his brewing produced. He’d perfected his technique over the years and now the restoratives he made during the long night were imbued with immense power and were sought after by warlocks around the world.

Magnus carefully added the last ingredient and then watched as the potion moved rapidly through about five colors before finally settling on a deep, vibrant purple. Perfect. He then reached for the set of specially cleaned flasks and started the slow process of decanting the elixir into each one. 

With busy hands and exhaustion creeping in, Magnus let his mind wander, thinking about the list of customers who had requested the restorative this year and how much he would have extra after shipping it off. As the flasks filled, he estimated that he’d have half a dozen leftover and free to sell. This year’s batch looked especially promising and Magnus knew that he could charge a high price for it and he would still sell out before the new year. Maybe I’ll buy Alec something special, he thought, contemplating the husband he hadn’t seen much of recently, occupied as he had been with brewing. 

He and Alec weren’t exactly hurting for money these days, even after returning to New York from Alicante several years ago. The stipend for the Head of the Institute was definitely less than the role of Inquisitor but was still hefty enough that there wasn’t really anything that the two of them wanted that they couldn’t have. Magnus’ clientele had only gotten bigger since his marriage, as his ties to the different parts of the Shadoworld had expanded and strengthened. Besides, the investments he’d made over the last century had developed quite nicely, even if he did direct most of the profits to his pet projects. 

With a relieved sigh, Magnus finally capped the last bottle gently and moved it carefully to the shelf to rest with the others. He turned back to his work room table and started methodically putting everything back into its proper place. Magnus tried to remember what the patrol schedule was for that night, and if Jace or Izzy would be free for dinner. With the buildup to his long night of potion brewing and Alec’s responsibilities with the New Year coming up, they hadn’t seen much of their family. 

Magnus smiled as he thought of Alec’s siblings. He’d always known that the three of them were really a matched set but the depth of their bond had never been as obvious as when they had been in Alicante for those few years. Alec had been restless and distracted for a solid six months before Magnus had managed to pry him open and make him admit that he missed his parabatai and sister being close. Deciding to resign his position and move back to New York had honestly been easy and surprisingly smooth. Their marriage had settled Alec in such lovely ways.

Closing the door behind him, Magnus glanced around the empty room with a small frown. It was obvious that Alec still hadn’t arrived home and Magnus tried to force his tired brain into remembering if he actually should be there. His cell phone was on the kitchen countertop where he’d left it earlier; he never brought anything into the stillroom with him when brewing. Picking it up, he frowned at the two recent missed calls. Not from Alec, but from Jace. Why was Jace calling and not Alec? Normally his husband was the middle man between him and Alec’s siblings. 

Magnus was still staring down at his phone in confusion when it started vibrating with an incoming call, making him startle. Jace. Again. Magnus swallowed down his unease and picked up. 

“Jace? What is it?”

“Magnus.” Jace’s voice was ragged. Magnus’ slither of disquiet abruptly became a spike of fear. 

“Jace, where’s Alec? Where are you? Who is hurt?” He kept his voice measured and slow, instead of giving into the urgency rising within him, his exhaustion wiped away by the thought of Alec in danger. Magic was already sparking at his fingertips, ready and waiting for a direction. 

“Alec’s not hurt. But he’s hurting. There was�� the wolves found –” There was a deep breath over the phone and then Jace’s voice steadied, became brisk and professional. “Use your fancy ring and come find us, we’re still in Brooklyn. You’ll understand the situation when you get here.” The phone clicked off. 

Magnus took a breath and shot a quick glance around the penthouse, trying to think if he needed to bring anything with him before deciding Jace would have told him if the situation was actually dangerous. What in the world had happened? Not hurt, but hurting.

His wedding ring was heavy on his hand. Magnus’ first piece of substantial magic after their marriage was to choose a sapphire from his small collection of gemstones and carefully split it, imbuing it with his power as he did so. The two stones, embedded carefully into the underside of each ring, right next to their skin, would always remember and call to each other, two halves of one heart. 

Cradling his left hand in his right one, Magnus focused on the hidden blue gem, letting its song fill the air as it sought out the one in Alec’s ring, tracing the path it laid for him straight to his husband’s location. It was the work of an instant, borne of long practice, and a portal flashed into being a second later, a slash of darkness in the warm glow of their penthouse. Magnus stepped through it without hesitation. 

The flare of the portal briefly illuminated a dark alley before closing, and then the dingy space was plunged into darkness again. Magnus blinked rapidly, his eyes trying to adjust. His wedding ring was warm against his skin; he knew that Alec’s would be too, letting him know that Magnus was here. 

As his eyes cleared his husband wasn’t immediately visible, though, which ratcheted up Magnus’ anxiety further. His eyes flicked around the scene in front of him, surprised and anxious at the number of people in front of him. Too many. The sapphire was still drawing him forward though, and Magnus let it lead him toward the eerily silent and still tableau. 

The outermost ring of people were all wolves; Magnus recognized that unique body awareness and strange synchronicity of movement as he stepped through the line. There were four men and two women, all watching him with glowing eyes, silent, faces still as stone. They parted for Magnus with barely a whisper of sound and he approached the second semi-circle of people.

The lines on Luke’s face were deep and he looked haggard in a way that Magnus hadn’t seen for a long time. He nodded at Magnus but otherwise didn’t move or speak. His eyes weren’t glowing like his Pack members had been. They just held shadows. 

In contrast, Maia’s eyes were ablaze with neon light and her body was strung tight with tension. Again, though, no words were spoken, nothing disturbing the silence of the alley. Magnus’ heartbeat was in his throat even as he looked at the other two people next to the werewolf leaders. What could have drawn them both here? Especially without sounding an emergency alarm?

Next to them, uncharacteristically still, was Jace. And then Magnus noticed that his hands, hanging loosely at his sides, were clenching and unclenching. That periodically one would flutter up like it wanted to press against his side, over the rune that meant Alec, before it would jerk down again. His clothes were neat, no blood, no ichor, nothing to reflect that hurt that had clearly been inflicted somewhere, even though Magnus knew that Jace would throw himself into danger in front of Alec if he could.

The heartbeat in Magnus’ throat was thundering in his ears now and there was magic sparking at his fingertips again. 

There was a sudden rush of displaced air, and Magnus was already lifting his hands defensively – and then Simon was there, stepping up behind Jace, and Magnus let the magic die away as fast as he’d prepared it. 

He watched Simon touch Jace’s shoulder and saw how the Shadowhunter turned into him immediately, hiding his face in the vampire’s shoulder. Simon didn’t say anything, taking in the tense scene at a glance. His eyes were alert and steady as he met Magnus’ eyes but he was quiet, no burst of normal babble. He wrapped one arm around Jace’s back and used the other to stroke Jace’s hair and Magnus saw him murmur something low into the other man’s ear. Jace shuddered and pressed himself closer. The open vulnerability added another horrible layer to the mystery and Magnus built his mental shields just a bit higher.

Turning away from the two of them, Magnus finally looked at the man kneeling on the filthy ground. Alec was curled over something in his arms, his broad back hunched, the white nape of his neck stark against the black of his jacket and hair. Magnus drifted quietly closer and closer and then he was there, his right hand settling softly down on Alec’s shoulder, his left hand clenched tight.

The baby cradled in Alec’s arms was perfect. A dirty brown blanket surrounded the newborn enough that only their delicate face was visible. Magnus absently cataloged the round cheeks and the snub nose, long eyelashes forming two little semicircles under closed eyes. Their hair was wispy and as black as his husband’s. 

And finally, finally, Magnus let himself focus on the two little horns that poked through the baby’s forehead, curved and brown, and the fact that their tiny chest was not rising or falling and was still as stone. Magnus closed his eyes and felt the breath move in his own lungs. Alec hadn’t moved an inch either, and for a long moment the whole alley was frozen. Just as frozen as the poor baby abandoned by a mother who could not handle the obvious marks of a non-human child. 

Magnus planted his feet more firmly on the black asphalt of this dingy, dirty, neglected alley somewhere deep in the heart of Brooklyn and let the weight of his years press him down into the earth. 

And then he opened his eyes and addressed the silent onlookers, row by row.

“All right, this is what we’re going to do. Luke and Maia, please thank all of your wolves for us, on behalf of the Spiral Labyrinth and the New York Institute. You have our deepest gratitude for notifying us. We will take it from here.” 

The older man nodded his head, with a bob that dipped low enough to signal both his respect and his grief. Maia’s eyes still burned but her chin lowered and her shoulders settled down. Slightly. With a quick glance around at the silent wolves around them, they all faded away into the night between one moment and the next.

Magnus took a deep breath and turned to the Shadowhunters. “Simon, take Jace back to the Institute. See what kind of surveillance footage we have on this alley and if we can identify the mother and if she needs help. I’ve got Alec.” The concrete job would help Jace focus now and Simon would be there for him afterwards when everything hit. The vampire’s face was full of deep compassion, a quiet grief and a steadfastness in the midst of sorrow that seemed unique to Simon. He nodded at Magnus, before looking briefly at the bundle in Alec’s arms. Simon’s mouth moved and Magnus could see the beginning prayer of Mourner’s Kaddish form in the air and then they were gone in a flash of speed. 

And then they were alone. 

Magnus sighed softly and then stared down at the top of his husband’s head. Alec still hadn’t moved, his arms and eyes locked firmly on the small body in his arms, not even to acknowledge Magnus’ presence. With another slow breath, Magnus moved his hand from Alec’s shoulder to the soft hairs at the base of his neck, rubbing gently.

His words, when they finally came, were low and tender. “It’s just us now, darling. Can you look at me?”

There was a pause, and then Alec lifted his head. His brave Alexander, always meeting his demons head on. And then his eyes met Magnus,’ the storm of grief and rage and bewilderment in them so strong that it seized the air in his chest. Alec was pale as a sheet except his terrible eyes, and everything in Magnus ached with sorrow. 

“All right, my love, stand up.” He reached down and cupped Alec’s elbows, coaxing him to stand. Alec staggered a little, his legs clearly stiff from kneeling for so long. He’d gone back to gazing down at the baby again. He still hadn’t said anything. Magnus looked at him for yet another long second and then came to a decision.

“Alexander, will you keep a secret for me? Even from your siblings?”

Alec’s brows drew together in confusion, a little line forming between them on his forehead. He said, slowly, “Yes, of course, Magnus. I won’t tell them whatever it is.” And then he looked expectantly at Magnus, waiting. His fingers twitched a little, fussing with the blanket in his arms, but otherwise his focus was finally on Magnus. 

“I’m going to take you somewhere, darling, a place very sacred and special to me. No one other than warlocks has ever been there. But I think you need to go and I would like to take you. Will you come with me?”

“Magnus, I followed you to Edom. I trust you. You won’t… you won’t take her from me, will you?” Alec’s shoulders made as if to hunch back down and Magnus quickly reached out to stop him.

“No, my love, she’s coming with us.” He kept his voice gentle but firm.

Alec straightened up again and a little color had come back into his cheeks. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” 

With a last look around the horrible alley, Magnus called his power forth and blue and gold lit up the air, fresh and clean and free from the shadows of the night. The world on the other side of the portal beckoned and Magnus put his hand on Alec’s back and they both walked forward into the light. 

[malec-ao3feed]

Wrapped in blood and silk

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Js62lon by ToTheStarsWriting When Alec came back from Alicante, life had seemed to finally be looking up for him. No longer "Acting" Head of the Institute, all of his hard work had finally paid off. He was the youngest official, fully-vested Institute Head in the past 150 years. Something he'd worked damn hard to achieve. So of course he should've expected for something to happen to change that. With the introduction of Clary Fray into their lives, and all the chaos she brought with her, Alec came home to an Institute in upheaval. Unsanctioned missions, a search for the Cup, and Valentine's daughter running free. And his very first steps towards trying to fix it all - reaching out to the High Warlock they'd all managed to use for help somehow without paying him - ends with a whole lot more trouble than Clary could've ever brought him. Alec goes on a journey that starts with pain and ends with a strange bond he never wanted, a husband he never thought he could have, and the chance to finally affect some real changes in the Shadow World. That is, if they can all survive long enough to see it happen. Words: 2832, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane, Valentine Morgenstern, Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood, Clary Fray, Simon Lewis, Raphael Santiago, Ragnor Fell, Catarina Loss, Jocelyn Fairchild, Imogen Herondale, Original Characters, Benji Sunkeep, Andrew Underhill Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: Angst, This one is gonna hurt some, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Human Experimentation, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt Magnus Bane, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Slow Burn, Surprisingly, Magic, Blood Magic, Valentine Morgenstern Being an Asshole, valentine is his own warning, Discrimination Against Downworlders, The Clave Being an Asshole (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Alec Lightwood Against the Clave, hybrid alec, Tags Contain Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Js62lon

[moonlight-breeze-44]

Always With You

Summary: Magnus and Alec have a ‘date night’ and talk about becoming Inquisitor and the High Warlock of Alicante. Fluffy fluff fluff.

Read on AO3

"Magnus, you didn't have to do all of this for me," Alec objected, a rosy blush colouring his pale cheeks. He was chewing his lip, clearly conflicted over the candlelit dinner Magnus had set up. It was their only day off for quite some time, and Magnus had spared no expense. The tablecloth was fine Italian silk, and the wine was a lavish brand Alec recognised only from Jace's 'guilty pleasure' magazines. The overhead lights had been transformed into soft white lighting that cast an almost enchanting glow over their table. Dinner was steak and potatoes with buttery rolls on the side. Alec was used to Magnus's insistence that they have only the best on their date nights, but he was still a little overwhelmed by the grand gesture.

"Nonsense, darling," Magnus replied, pulling Alec out of his own thoughts and back into their conversation. "I wanted it to be a special night."

"Well, thank you," Alec said, looking down shyly. "I love it."

"Good," Magnus chirped, and he reached over to pull the chair out for Alec. Alec sat, and they began to eat. Chairman Meow wandered over and rubbed himself against Alec's legs, purring. Alec smiled softly. The cat was the last piece of the puzzle needed for him to relax and simply enjoy the dinner with his husband. Magnus, who was even better than Alec himself at picking up on subtle changes in his behaviour, gave Alec a bright smile and locked their ankles together under the table.

"How's the campaign coming?" Magnus inquired. "I asked Isabelle yesterday, but she just said it was 'top-secret'."

Alec smirked. "Good for her."

"Why all the secrecy?" Magnus whined. "I'm your husband. I deserve to know these things, Alexander."

"Well, I have something to show you after dinner," Alec promised. He took a deep breath and reached over the table to squeeze Magnus's hand. "It's going to change a lot of things, Mags."

Magnus raised their interwoven hands and kissed Alec's knuckles. "It won't change my love for you, and that's what's important. Anything else, we can deal with."

Alec felt suddenly and violently grateful for Magnus Lightwood-Bane. His throat closed with emotion, and he roughly shook his head, embarrassed at himself.

Magnus smiled and changed the subject. "Did you feed Chairman today? He looks hungry."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Don't be fooled by his act, Magnus. He does this every day. Haven't you noticed?"

Magnus appeared taken aback. "He's not like that!"

"Not like what, exactly?" Alec raised an eyebrow.

"He's not dishonest!"

Alec chuckled. "Magnus, he's a cat."

"Yes, well, he's not a dishonest cat!"

Alec shook his head. A small smile turned the corners of his mouth up, and he took a bite of steak before answering. "I don't think cats know what honesty is."

"That's ridiculous!" Magnus sputtered. "You know, people are quick to assume that animals are nothing like us because they can't communicate the way we do. But I've had cats for over 200 years, Alexander. They know what honesty is. They're honorable."

"I think that's open for debate," Alec countered. "At least in the case of the Chairman."

Magnus sputtered indignantly but chose not to respond. Instead, he took a roll, tore it in half, and fed half of it to the cat, who was waiting underneath the table with a confident, self-satisfied gleam to his eyes.

Alec rolled his eyes. "You need to stop feeding him human food, Magnus. He's obese."

"No, he's not. He's just fluffy."

Alec shook his head in exasperation, chuckling. "You're blind when it comes to those that you love, Mags."

"Mm, how true that is, Alexander." Magnus rose a few feet from his chair to press a light kiss to Alec's lips.

Alec hummed in gratitude when Magnus pulled away, popping the last piece of steak into his mouth. "I'll clean the dishes," Alec offered, standing up. "Since you made dinner."

"I didn't make dinner, darling. I borrowed dinner from a restaurant in New Hampshire. And I'm too eager to see this surprise of yours to wait for you to clean up all the soap you'll get on my counter in the process of washing the dishes." He snapped his fingers and the plates and utensils disappeared, along with the leftover steak.

Alec pointed to the half-full platter of potatoes. "What are you going to do with those?"

"...give them to the cats."

"Magnus."

"They're hungry! Look at them!" He pointed to the double doors leading to the balcony, where several other cats that Magnus fed had congregated, meowing pitifully and looking at Chairman Meow with something akin to jealousy.

"They're deceiving you, Magnus. You gave them cream this morning, remember?"

Magnus did remember. "That doesn't mean anything. We have three meals a day, and they're only supposed to live on one?"

Alec sighed, inserting every bit of overdramatic Lightwood flair he could muster up into the sound. Magnus smiled and pecked him on the cheek. "Go wait for me in the living room, darling. And get that surprise ready, would you?" He threw his husband a glittery wink before disappearing onto the balcony.

When Magnus returned, Alec had settled himself on the sofa and pulled up the email. His hands shook and his thick black hair clung to his perspiration-dotted forehead. This was it. Time to tell Magnus what was going on.

For better or for worse.

"So what is this?" Magnus asked, gesturing to the email on Alec's phone screen.

"Here. Read." Alec thrust the phone into Magnus's hands.

When Magnus got to the end of the email, to Alec's surprise, he was beaming.

"Oh, Alexander, this is wonderful! Congratulations!" Magnus pulled Alec into a tight hug. "I knew you would be appointed Inquisitor. I'm so happy for you, sweetheart."

"Y-You're not upset?"

"Upset? Darling, why would I be upset?"

"Because the Inquisitor position is in Alicante," Alec mumbled. "It's - I mean - I couldn't possibly portal back home to New York every night."

"Alec, look at me." Magnus cupped Alec's cheek in his palm and tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet Magnus's eyes. "Distance means nothing to me. While it is, of course, preferable to have you close, I will love you no matter where you are in the world. Distance can do nothing against our bond." He raised his hand, on which the Lightwood family ring stood out proudly, for emphasis.

Alec felt tears rise to his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Magnus, I - you have no idea how much that means to me. I just - I just thought the distance might be too much for you. Alicante is a long way from home." He bit his lip and focused his gaze on his lap once more.

"Well, though I stand by my original point, I have a surprise for you, as well," Magnus said. He raised his hand and, a few seconds later, a scroll flew into his hand from their bedroom. He handed it over to Alec, smiling. "Read it."

Dear Mr. Lightwood-Bane, Due to your unique skill set, we would like to request your presence in Alicante. The Head of the New York Institute, Mr. Alexander Lightwood-Bane, and his Downworld Cabinet have brought to our attention the need for a more open, welcoming environment here in the city. We would like to ask you to be the first High Warlock of Alicante. Should you choose to accept this offer, please send a return message with your confirmation and we will arrange a date to discuss further details, including your salary and the hours you will be expected to be available for work. Thank you very much. Please reply at your earliest convenience. Sincerely, Consul Penhallow & staff

Alec peered up at Magnus from beneath his lashes, blinking incredulously. "Mags, how long have you known about this?"

"About as long as you've known you won the race for Inquisitor," Magnus replied. He smirked at Alec's dumbfounded expression. "Of course I could tell, darling," he said, reading his husband's mind. "You were giddy with joy from the moment they emailed you." Alec chuckled. After all, Magnus wasn't wrong. Despite his misgivings about how it would affect his future with his husband, Alec had been overjoyed to learn he was to be the new Inquisitor. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but then there was that mishap with one of the werewolf packs and the vampire clan, and then you had that nest of Drevak demons to deal with - " Magnus cut himself off with a smile. "Anyway, it just never seemed like the right time."

"And you want to? Accept the offer, I mean."

"I do," Magnus replied steadily. "I've thought about it, and New York is my home. It's where I found my place after nearly a century of wandering the Earth, not quite fitting in anywhere I went. It's where I've lived for the past 200 years and it's where I want to be when I die. But Alicante is a new opportunity, and I want to embrace it. I can very easily see myself being quite happy there. The fact that I am allowed in at all to a city that was once warded against all Downworlders is sign enough that things are changing, and I have you to thank for that. Being the first of my kind to take the leap and change old prejudices is something I dream about. Besides, I can take the best of New York with me." He gestured to his apartment, sweeping over the cats, still huddled around the plate of mashed potatoes, and the framed picture of Catarina that hung on the wall, before turning to Alec and placing a sound kiss on his lips. "Wherever you go, Alexander, I'm right there with you."

Alec rested his forehead against Magnus's and exhaled a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you want to go." He looked up to meet Magnus's eyes. "I agree with everything you were saying earlier, about distance not being able to diminish what we feel, but I think I need to see you." He huffed a breath of a laugh. "If I didn't have you there with me, I think I'd go insane from all of the Clave's politics."

Alec, now fully relaxed with the knowledge that he was not going to be leaving his husband behind to further his career in Alicante, slumped into Magnus's side, resting his head on Magnus's shoulder. Magnus kissed it absentmindedly, reaching down to run his fingers through Alec's hair. Alec purred in delight when Magnus's nails scratched over his scalp, and buried his face into the bright purple vest Magnus was wearing in order to give him more access.

"I wouldn't blame you, sweetheart. The Clave can be quite intolerable." Alec hummed in response.

"Are you tired?"

"No," Alec said, suppressing a yawn.

Magnus chuckled. "Sure you aren't. Come on, darling, let's go to bed."

"But it's only eight!"

"And numbers mean nothing," Magnus said firmly. "We can go to bed whenever we'd like to. Come on, get up."

"I'm pretty comfy right here."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "We are not sleeping on the couch again, Alexander."

"You go on ahead. I'll join you in a minute."

"No, you won't," Magnus said knowingly. "You'll fall asleep here and wake up with a sore neck and a bad attitude. Come on, darling, just a few steps."

"Can't you just use magic?" Alec whined. "You're warm. I don't want to move."

"Alright, alright," Magnus relented. A wisp of cool blue floated from his fingertips and surrounded Alec, levitating him into the bedroom while maintaining the comfortable warmth from the couch. Magnus followed shortly afterwards, magicking himself and Alec into suitable sleepwear.

Alec curled up on his side of the bed and called out for Magnus impatiently. Magnus chuckled and slid underneath the red silk sheets, pressing himself to his husband’s side. He dropped a light kiss to Alec's forehead and pulled him close.

By the time Magnus had buried his face in Alec's hair, ripe with the scent of sandalwood and citrus, and whispered, "Goodnight," Alec was already asleep, snoring quietly next to the man he loved.

Centuries' worth of heartbreak seemed like nothing at all when Magnus was with Alec.

[faejilly]

Tangential Prompt Requests!

Inspired by @alexanderlightweight's "Writing Wednesday" I am opening up my askbox for requests! With the usual caveat that whatever I come up with may bear very little resemblance to whatever you thought you had in mind.

(Or, as I have previously put it when making things: the voices in my head are smarter than I am, and they do NOT tell me what they're doing, so we all get whatever we get and can be surprised together!)

Feel free to ask about any of my published fic, or request new ones. You may cruise my #prompt requests tag for ideas if you'd like, just be sure to tell me which meme if applicable. If you're a relatively recent follower/lurker my writing tag is #jilly writes and my ao3 is here.

I am accepting:

Writing Prompts!

Questions regarding: lore, worldbuilding, headcanons, OC's etc. (I do have a specific SH meta tag, #my sh rambling, but for all the rest it's just kind of... somewhere? 🍀)

Fanmix/Podfic requests (LMK if you need more clarification on that one.)

Primary Fandoms:

Shadowhunters: I tend to write Malec, and I probably won't write either Alec or Magnus with someone else, but I enjoy the entire extended (TV) cast so feel free to go wild.

BioWare: Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Jade Empire

Secondary Fandoms are too numerous to list and include an eclectic range of books/TV shows/movies/video games. Feel free to ask about anything, especially if you've seen me flail about it here or post something on ao3/spotify. I will enjoy the question, even if don't have an opinion, promise!

If you'd like some suggestions about stuff I'm currently working on?

Highlights From The Unending WIP List of Doom™️

#apples vs oranges (not on AO3 yet) A Malec a/b/o story with Nephilim!wings and weird lore and fantasy politics. (Yeah, I will eventually manage a better blurb for that.)

d.c. al coda: DA2 epilogue(s) (Adelaide Hawke/Sebastian Vael)

they have hung my heart with a sunset reasonably canon compliant Shadowhunters epilogue with Inquisitor Alec Lightwood & High Warlock of Alicante Magnus Bane in Alicante

Floralegia: Weaver Shepard from Mass Effect (original trilogy, f!shenko, earthborn, war hero, paragon, nerd, etc.)

clizzy!AU a very much not canon compliant Shadowhunters epilogue where-in they are all still in NYC and also eventually I will get Clary & Izzy to make out. Hopefully.

Anything 7KPP!

mer!Alec

Sagacious Zu/Spirit Monk (#Icy Yaling) from Jade Empire

I have discovered, these last few weeks, that I am kind of terrible at doing one-shot scenes anymore, even though I used to write them all the time. So I may write several fills and make sure I know how they go together before I start posting. If you're ever curious whether I got your prompt, or what the status is, feel free to ask and I'll check. ❤️