#well malec is later in the fic
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"You'd be a good father, you know.”
“Me? A father?” Magnus gave a half laugh, sounding both incredulous and a little startled “Somehow I don’t think that would go very well.”
“I disagree” Henry responded, successfully fitting a second mitten on his son’s hand. “You’re a very kind person.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think- Well,” Magnus sighed, then shook his head “Besides the destruction I would wrought on an impressionable young mind, warlocks can’t have children. You know that, Henry.”
Henry held up a finger, pausing the conversation to address the toddler in his lap.
“Matthew, you must keep your mitten’s on when we are outside. Will you do that?” He received an earnest nod of confirmation from his little boy. “That’s a good boy.”
Henry pressed a kiss to Matthew’s forehead, before setting him down and sending him off with a pat on the head.
“You know, Magnus, you needn’t conceive a child to be their father,” Henry continued addressing his friend once again “And for what it’s worth, I think you would make an exceptional parent.”
Magnus opened his mouth to respond, but found himself robbed of the chance by the delighted high pitched shrieking of a child who seemed to have deemed the majority of his clothing overly restrictive; and he was now running amok, minus his jacket, shirt, hat, and shoes. Although, Magnus observed, to the child's credit, Matthew was still wearing his mittens.
- Snippet of Magnus Bane centric WIP
#theyre besties<3#ngl this fic will be sad#magnus bane#matthew fairchild#henry branwell#henry fairchild#tid#tsc#tlh#the shadowhunter chronicles#the infernal devices#the last hours#wip#fanfiction#tsc fanfiction#my writing#malec#well malec is later in the fic
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May Malec fic rec!
Thanking @crystalmir for this month's theme which is soulmate AU's! The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 💜
Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know (aka found on their AO3 profile), but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.
One-shots:
Magnus, How Long Have You Been Twenty by @Master of Unlocking: A soulmate AU where you don't age past a certain age until you've met your soulmate!
Summary:
Soulmate AU where you age to about 18/21, and then you stay that age until you find your soulmate.
The Space Between by @gingersnapwolves: soulmate AU, the usual Clave being awful as well as some Alec and Magnus being badass. I don't know how often I've read and reread this fic by now.
Summary:
Every warlock has a soulmate. 98% of the time it’s another warlock, but sometimes it’s a mundane, a seelie, or even a Shadowhunter. Until their name appears on the warlock’s chest (and their corresponding soulmate’s), there’s no way to know.
Enter Alec Lightwood, who wakes up at fourteen with a warlock’s name on his chest. Horrified at what it means, he keeps it hidden. But five years later, Magnus Bane is captured by a team of Shadowhunters, and it’s only a matter of time before someone sees Alec’s name on his chest.
see me light up from the rooftops by @oh-la-fraise: Short and sweet and fluffy, just the way I like it.
Summary:
“Alec,” Magnus said, his face falling. “Short for Alexander, I assume?”
Alec frowned. “Yeah. Why do you look so disappointed? Are you more of an Alexi kind of guy?”
Magnus smiled for a second, and Alec cheered with victory internally. “No, I just. . .Oh, it’s so stupid, and not something I should be discussing on a first date. It was an Alexander that broke my heart in Paris.”
“Yeesh,” Alec winced. “Well I can promise you, not all of us are complete idiots. Which he would had to have been, to dump you.”
Magnus snorted. “That’s the even sadder part—he didn’t dump me. We never even met.”
Before the Day is Done by carmenlire: Ales as a Head of the Institute but also as an author! Magnus as his kind of pen pal, the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his unknowing fan.
Summary:
Alec reads the email twice through before letting out a breath. He feels anticipation thrumming through him at the invitation and it doesn’t vanish no matter how hard he tries to shove it down.
He’s looking forward to meeting Magnus in person. While there’s still some anxiety lurking underneath it all, it feels almost inevitable.
Truth be told, he’s always felt drawn to the High Warlock. Magnus had been the only downworlder to acknowledge the change in leadership first. He’d been surprising magnanimous in wishing Alec a successful tenure and providing his contact information if he ran into any problems.
Who are you really? by @skylar102 : The scene of Magnus pressing Alec's lost baby blanket to his face as he realizes he finally has a soulmate after 400 lonely years makes me slightly feral.
Summary:
When your soulmate loses something it gets sent to you and vice versa. For almost 400 years Magnus thought he would never have a soulmate until one day a pacifier shows up in his loft.
all these stumbles and falls by @echo-bleu evil on the feels-front like all of Echo's fics, but what else is new. (Love you, Echo <3)
Alec has always kept his male, warlock soulmate a secret. He knows he can never have what he wants. On the eve of his wedding to Lydia, he finds himself on a warlock’s doorstep to finally break the bond, and be free to complete his duty to the Clave and his family.
It will all be fine.
Except that his soulmate mark is desperately clutching at his chest, shaking like a leaf, and its large golden eyes are pooling with tears.
And that said mark looks exactly like a tiny version of the warlock who just answered his knock.
To Touch and Be Touched by TobytheWise: short 500-word ficlet, but still an adorable and enjoyable read nonetheless.
With a black handprint across his cheek, Alec always imagined meeting his soulmate for the first time would be a painful affair. When the day finally comes, Alec is pleasantly surprised.
Multi-chapter fics or series:
Making Memories With Mistletoe by @notcrypticbutcoy is another lovely fic by notcrypticbutcoy. There's a small amount of angst, but it's mostly a feel-good fic for me
Summary:
How was that even possible? How could Magnus’ soulmate be someone who didn’t believe in the concept? The universe had to be playing some kind of cosmic joke on him.
***
When a mysterious and very attractive stranger walks into Magnus’ magic shop three weeks before Christmas, he doesn’t expect it to be his soulmate. Nor does he expect his soulmate to deny the entire concept of such a thing.
Or: in which Magnus owns a magic shop, Alec doesn’t believe in soulmates, and the universe has a funny way of making things work out.
Machiavellian by @alxndrlightwoods: While a one-shot the fic is part of a series that I love even though it's dark and gory - or maybe just because? Warning (especially for the later parts) for Underage, Gore, and some very enthusiastic and graphic murder aka make sure you read the tags.
Summary:
He can see the thoughts whirling in Magnus’s brain. Magnus had managed to make it four hundred years, patiently waiting and keeping a weather eye on the Lightwood family for the majority of that. And his beautiful, perfect, wonderful soulmate hadn’t even managed to make it three years.
They were disgustingly perfect for each other.
The Gift of Choice by @tinylilemrys: Soulmate AU where you can choose whether to accept or reject a soulmate (something I'm personally a huge fan of) and it's just written so well.
Summary:
Neither Alec nor Magnus is particularly thrilled at the discovery of their soul marks. Alec because he knows that the design of it means that his soulmate is a Downworlder, something practically unheard of in Shadowhunter society. For Magnus, the idea of being permanently attached to a joyless demon-killer is hardly a thrill. Given that they can choose if they accept their soulmate or not, the decision seems like a no-brainer.
But when Alec finally meets the beautiful, other-worldly Magnus and Magnus meets the gorgeous, self-sacrificing Alec, it becomes clear that the decision might not be as easy as they thought it would.
it doesn't matter (if it's now or then) by @soveryaverageme: Alec knows Magnus is his soulmate. He also knows he isn't Magnus', but he's fine with it. Really.
Alec’s words were branded across his right forearm, spiraling towards his shoulder. The phrase “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” was stark across his skin, as bold as his own love. They were a comfort and a reminder every time he drew his bow back to fire another arrow. He knew every curve and bend of his words. He could trace them without looking.
He had never seen Magnus’ words, but he knew was that they weren’t his.
Through a Glass, Darkly by SolarisRasa: Last but not least on this list, a fic that deserves more love in my opinion. Magnus creating a Veil between the Downworld and the Nephilim is such an interesting concept!
A century ago, Magnus Bane, sick of the struggles between the Downworld and the Clave, created a spell: The Veil. It separated the Downworld from the Nephilim, both sides blind to each other in the world.
A red-head with demands, a sharp spike in demons, a new Head of the New York Institute, and...gardening? Draws Magnus toward the Shadowhunters world again.
With his city slipping, the Clave bearing down, and the High Warlock's demand for better protection, Alec Lightwood seeks a more equal footing with the Downworld.
#Malec rec list#this list ended up having slightly more recs#but consistency is never a thing with me#so that's okay
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hello everyone so I’ll be in military studying training camp for a whole month starting from tomorrow so i may not answer your message or asks that much frequent, as there are no wifi in there and I have to pick time to use my 3G 🫣 however you can just message me and I will probably reply later! also please bear some malec fic recommendation for me! my mutual know my taste quite well already hehe but i have a penchant for sub alec, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, jealousy and protective magnus!
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Hello! If you have the time, 4, 10, 11 (and 12 because those pretty much go together for me in my head) and 27 for the fic writers ask game. 💜
Hii!
4. How many WIPs do you have right now?
I’m actively working on one Teen Wolf (Sterek) fic right now ^^ It’s for Fandom Trumps Hate 2024!
10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
Recently I was nicely surprised by an old birthday gift idea I finally posted, it’s a Teen Wolf fic, Sterek once again, with kitsune!Stiles for @lalelilolusworld. The moodboard kinda blew up on tumblr and the fic was a bit slower but got there too eventually.
I didn’t expect such a specific prompt to work for so many people but I’m glad it made more than one person’s day!
11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?
Most of the time yes, I create a playlist for the story (not just multi-chapters, for shorter one shots too sometimes).
If I don’t have a story specific playlist I can still rely on the older ones with similar vibes, my pairing or character or fandom specific playlists x) I put any song that makes me thing of those in there and then I pick and match for the stories that get a playlist later on, while also adding songs that only work for this story. It’s a fun process!
The most recent one was for Dust and Shadows, a Shadowhunters pre-Malec fic!
12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!
I do! I’m still adding songs occasionally so the playlist might evolve some more (it’s particularly short considering the fic is 10 chapters for an estimated 50k word count).
27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?
I’m sometimes a bit anxious when I tackle topics such as gender dysphoria (one of my recent Shadowhunters, Malec, A/B/O one shot) or a muslim character (my latest Shadowhunters, Malec, Human AU).
I’ve done my research and asked plenty of questions to my friends and relatives to make sure I do it respectfully and I give an accurate representation of the kind of experience I focus on for the story but you never know how it will come across once you share it online.
So far it went well!
Thanks for asking, more questions here (:
#autopromo#teen wolf#shadowhunters#malec#sterek#ask game#pearfectly fine to ask#alec lightwood#magnus bane#stiles stilinski#derek hale#fanfic
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wip update
since I have a good number of actively-posting WIPs that some lovely people have been very kind about and invested in (and which I am very slow in updating), I figured it might be only polite to post a little update on where those are.
the melting press of the sun (dreamling) - Never intended this as a longfic, there may or may not be more than the 2 chapters it has now. I have a bit more written but it's disjointed and incomplete. I intentionally didn't leave any brutal cliffhangers on what I did post for this reason. We'll see if that one comes back.
Deja vu, Deja connu (dreamling) - The slowness in updating probably belies how deeply emotionally invested I actually am in this fic. Chapter three is just a major challenge--it's very long, covers a lot, has lots of fluff in the first part (fluff is kinda my Achilles heel, though not quite as much as wedding scenes, which this chapter also has) and a lot of heavy content later. But I have the whole fic outlined, a bunch of chapter 4 and 5 written in advance, and I'm super excited about the stuff that comes later, so it will definitely be finished, just... slowly. At least for this chapter.
In Waking Dreams (dreamling) - My current priority for an update. Chapter 4 just hit 10k and will probably hit 15k before its done (god help me), and I feel somewhat obliged to finish chapter 5 as well so I can post them in quick succession. Chapter 4 necessarily ends on a cliffhanger as it catches up to the events of chapter 3, but I feel bad about two cliffhangers in a row. But that one soon, I hope. (chapter 5 has a lot of the juiciest, long awaited scenes promised by the fic's premise, so I hope you will like that one when it's finally done 😅)
IRL (malec) - Fic that I have a tendency to get stuck on for 15 months, then write a ton of all at once, repeat. But I actually picked it up again the other day for the first time in ages, and I think I know all of the events of the chapter now, so who knows! Maybe I'll actually manage an update!
Subject: I Love You (malec) - Fic that I shamefully left with ONE CHAPTER remaining for a full year now. Honestly not sure why. Someday I will pick it up tho, I swear to god, or maybe I'll just cut the chapter short and make it an epilogue. (Actually maybe I do know why. It's another damn proposal/wedding scene. My absolute weakness and failure, I should stop writing them entirely)
mind & heart, body & soul (malec) - This fic haunts me, it follows me around 24/7 like a vengeful spirit that can't find rest. I can't wrangle it back into making any sense in my head, but for the sake of both my own sanity and the story's frankly frightening number of readers (I love you but you scare me), I've been trying to do one final chapter to offer some kind of wrap-up. Hopefully I can manage it.
Leviathan (malec) - My long held passion project that I have, in classic form, not touched in months. In fact I've been stuck on the same chapter I'm on now since probably 2020, when I first started writing the fic. This particular middle part of the fic is just vexing me to no end. At some point, I will decide on a course of action, inevitably flawed, and just power through that chapter (I say, for the 2nd year in a row). Why did I give this story two big villains again? Or think having a whole separate story arc in the middle of the fic was a good idea? Ah well.
in the palm of your hand (malec) - The one and only multichapter I finally caved and marked abandoned. I learnt my lesson with this fic about letting a oneshot expand into a completely unplanned longer fic. Boy did I...
----
I feel like I don't express it enough, but I really appreciate everyone who's ever read one of my fics, commented, kudos'd, chatted with me about them on tumblr, made podfics or art or translations, shared headcanons in my inbox or your own fics with me... I'm always blown away by the kindness and interest, and love getting to share little (or big!) stories with you and am so happy when you enjoy them ❤️ I love doing fandom with you.
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20 questions for fic writers!
Both @teejaystumbles and @spockandthings tagged me in this, so let's get it done!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
I just recently posted up my 668 work on Ao3.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
5,129,415 words!!
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Right now, Sandman!! But I also dabble in other fandoms, including Shadowhunters, Supernatural, and a few others!
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
In general-
1. Never Judge A Shadowhunter By Their Scent - 4,712
2. The New York Shadow Market (Featuring Protective Alec Lightwood) - 3,262
3. Magnus Bane: Certified BAMF - 3,252
4. A Curse, A Choice, A Claim - 3,031
5. A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement - 2,887
In Sandman-
1. Hopes & Dreams - 2,482
2. The Art of Seduction Via Longbow - 1,657
3. The Price - 1,220
4. A Husband, A Consort, A Nightmare - 1,089
5. Dreams Make Living Worthwhile - 1,022
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Indeed I do - sometimes months later (as a whole hell of a lot of people know right now from my comment reply spree, lol), but yes!
I love taking the time to say thank you - even if you left an emoji - it made me smile and I feel like I should thank you for that!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
With the angstiest ENDING? (I'm a HEA stan, so hold on, this'll take a second.)
Probably Learning to Say Goodbye - which has an open/hopeful ending.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
HAPPIEST ending? All of them. Oh man. I don't even know. What do you consider the happiest ending? The Titanic AU - Make It Count (which has the happiest possible ending)?
Hopefully - My Hope of the Endless series?
(And that's just in the Sandman fandom!)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I have, yup! I tend not to as a whole, but it has definitely happened!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Oh yes. What kind? Uh. Well. Everything from the schmoopiest first time possible to all-orifices fucking with magical tentacles, sooo? All of it?
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY AND WILL WRITE SO MANY MORE.
The craziest crossover I ever wrote is a 5-fandom crossover - set in the Sandman universe. I pulled in characters from the Hades Game, Supernatural, Shadowhunters, and Good Omens in and had all of them face off against Hell!
The War for the Dreaming
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Unfortunately, yes, multiple times. I wish that on no person.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yup!!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
A great many, in multiple fandoms!! Shout out to awesome co-authors who keep me sane!!
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Omg I can't pick a FAVORITE. I've had so many over the years, I don't know if I ever could truly pick a favorite.
Malec probably comes pretty damn close though, all things considered.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Candy Coated Nightmare.
I want to finish it from the perspective of wanting to finish the story - but when the original creator of the gif story quit the fandom due to their work being stolen and stopped the project - finishing the story without them didn't seem right. So while I want to finish it to finish the story - I never will.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I've learned how to hack my ADHD brain and trigger hyperfocus whenever I want using a writing software. Which means I can write very obscene amounts of words, very quickly.
(Also experience - I've been doing this for 23+ years now.)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Editing and research. I hate editing, so none of my fics receive more than a cursory read-through at best. And having to heavily research a fic is what kills my enthusiasm for it faster than anything else, so I avoid it at all costs and make up things as I go along whenever that is an option.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Love the idea - but i think you gotta use the AO3 feature that allows you to put the translation when you click/hover over it!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Wheeew, we're going back to 2004, okay. Gundam Wing was my first ever fandom I wrote for.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
How the hell am I supposed to pick?
I love Make It Count because that fic (all 120k) wrote itself. I love Together We Soar because it was the first long fic I wrote myself. (Long for me, anyways.) I love Alexander is Endlessly Surprising because I wrote 2 full sets of the Oldest Game and I thought I did an AWESOME job. I love The War for the Dreaming because it was an insane undertaking and I managed it. I love Magnus Bane: Certified BAMF because it introduced my favorite OC of all time - Oberon Onyx.
So many more I could name, but I'll leave it there, at least for now!
Tagging @moorishflower, @cuubism, @blueberrymffn, @seiya-starsniper and anyone else who wants to participate!!
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Thanks to @anincompletelist and @wordsofhoneydew for the tag today. I'm going to have nothing left to share soon. 😂 Work is hella busy this time of year and makes it hard to find time to actually write.
Anyway, today is an excerpt from a single dad Alex fic called When You Didn't Have To:
Alex’s face lights up and Henry can’t help the smile that spreads across his. There’s another beat of silence between them before Henry speaks again. “I should probably get going. But I’ll text you later and we can figure out the when and where for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Alex nods, meeting Henry’s eyes again.
Henry can’t make himself turn to go and neither, it seems, can Alex. But one of them has to, so Henry takes the first step backward without taking his eyes off Alex, watching him until he turns away and starts in the opposite direction.
“Henry!”
He turns at the sound of his name and sees that Alex still hasn’t moved, a grin Henry remembers all too well on his face. “Casual booty calls only.”
Henry’s brain goes offline for just a second before he can pull himself back together, rolls his eyes, and calls back to Alex, “you wish!”
You can find my Malec fics on AO3 at magicandarchery, and will be able to find my FirstPrince fics under OnOurOwnTerms soon.
No pressure tags to @getmehighonmagic and anyone else who feels so inclined to share your work.
#wip wednesday#my writing#my fanfic#fanfic#fan fic#ao3#ao3 aut#ao3 writer#firstprince#first prince#rwrb#rwrb fanfic#alex claremont diaz#henry fox#prince henry#alex x henry#otp: on our own terms#fic: when you didn't have to
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Not a prompt, your post CoLS fic got me thinking... would lbotw really happen the same if Malec were broken up? I mean, it was Alec who called Catarina and later rallied the team together, Magnus on the other hand was hellbent on not asking anyone for help and was confident he and Alec could solve it on their own.
Anyway I imagine he just shows up at Alec’s house one night all like "Hi I kind of met Shinyun again and she stabbed me twice with this thorn thing and now I'm dying* and um anyways I kind of wanted to see you before I die."
*Dying because there's no way he'll take the third thorn and become Sammael's minion, he's way too stubborn for that. Plus his whole history of "I hope someone kills me if I ever become evil"
hello laks. Hi.
You got me thinking as well lol. I think it would’ve gone somehow similar but also quite different if malec had not gotten back together.
Like the plot would 100% definitely happen in my opinion. Shinyun and Sammael would still act like their crazy selves lol. But I think Magnus and Alec would def react a bit differently.
It would be less chiller in my opinion? Because remember TLBOTW Alec being horny as fuck??? my mans would be absolutely going insane if he didn’t get to kiss Magnus every five minutes. I think it would be somehow more angsty because like??? how do I express my undying love (from both of them) in a very chill and friendly way?
Magnus would resist more in opening up but what you said is so spot on—this unhinged man would definitely knock on Alec’s door five minutes after getting snapped.
And even if they’re not together, he’d still trust Alec to kill him if he were to turn fully evil. They’re just stupid and insane like that sjsjskskslllljsjs. But my mans alec would be 70000% more unhinged because they don’t have Max here to think about (even though he was unhinged even when max was in the picture lmao)
#Uh. The potential of it all. Someone finish that one shot for me plsssss#malec#magnus bane#alec lightwood
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Devil in Disguise
Artist: @skylar102
Thanks for the mood board and all the banners ❤️💕❤️
Rating: M Pairing: Malec Word Count: 48.500
This fic was created for the Mini Bang 2023 presented by the @malecdiscordserver
CHAPTER 1/7 UNREACHABLE
It's challenging, almost impossible, not to look up at the restricted area where the very important people are. It is probably as difficult for Alec as it is for anyone else in the club. In fact, people keep dancing and having fun, mostly minding their own business. Or so it seems. Presumably, they are afraid to be caught gaping disrespectfully at one of the most powerful men on the planet, but it is easy to notice how the bravest ones among the crowd do attempt to throw a fleeting glance up to the VIP area, every now and then, certainly dreaming of being admitted into the inner circle of those - lucky bastards - who can hang around the ridiculously stunning owner of the club.
Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and prominent object of desire is the even-too-aware recipient of all the ill-concealed curiosity, reverence, and a certain amount of suspicion coming from his diverse clientele. He must know even too well the emotions he arouses in the clubbers, the power he holds over them. Well, not over Alec. He is a Shadowhunter, after all. He’s no one to be easily intimidated. But aroused? Well, that he undoubtedly is.
There is something in the way the man looks so out of reach that makes Alec crave him badly and, at least, he can fill his eyes with the Warlock’s charm and incredible persona. It’s a treat he indulges himself in, but Alec has no false hopes or dreams to be able to get closer to the man.
Up there, the Warlock looks more like a King, actually, or a God looking down at humanity from his personal Olympus; maybe it’s the ridiculously huge throne he is sitting on that makes him look so regal, but the power overflowing him is almost tangible even from the underbelly of the club, where almost everything is allowed. Almost. Warlock Bane hates troublemakers and bad-mannered people. The audacious display of his power makes people behave rather properly and, in the end, he magnanimously stands there for everyone to admire him, mannerly and respectfully, but never up close.
Does Alec play by these rules? Well, yes and no. He has the impertinence of a 20-year-old young Shadowhunter on his part, and the black stark runes on his arms and his neck dissuade the numerous bouncers in defense of the VIP area from telling him to eye up at their boss with less insistence and insolence. After all, staring isn't illegal, maybe just a little daring or even a bit rude, but Alec's gaze is irresistibly drawn to that fucking throne strategically placed in the exact center of the elevated platform. From there, the club owner overlooks all the people dancing with an oddly detached grin.
He is magnificent and Alec wants him. He has wanted the man since the first time he saw him.
Tonight is just the same story as usual. He will play his staring game for a while, drink a few cocktails, and when he loosens up a bit, letting the stress of the day bleed out of him, Alec will give in standing on the sidelines and finally will look for someone else more attainable. It’s a familiar routine by now. As is the fact that the Warlock will populate his dreams. Later and in the next few nights. But at least in dreamland, Alec can indulge in doing unspeakable things to the hottest man he's ever seen.
Anyway, it’s way too early for that; Alec is still sipping his first Cosmopolitan near the bar; his siblings already vanished into the crowd. And he is still shamelessly enjoying his show. A show offered for free.
Tonight the Warlock is even more impressively dressed up than usual. And Alec almost drools taking in all the details of his perfect facial features, focusing on the bloated makeup around his otherworldly eyes - his demonic mark on display. The Shadowhunter is fascinated by those little specks of gold in them - and ok, yes, he may have activated a couple of runes to enhance his sight both from afar and in the dimness of the club, so what?
The High Warlock of Brooklyn is a man as much feared as desired, and in Alec’s opinion he knows perfectly well how wanted he is and enjoys it a great deal. Everyone wants to be in his good graces, to get close to him, even if it means spending hours kneeling at his feet like obedient pets. Pets who are dressed - or rather undressed - only in leather and piercings, Alec muses.
Oh, Alec would kneel before him… Not up there for everyone to see, he is not much of an exhibitionist, even if he knows he is quite attractive and that maybe, in another World, he could quite fit with the picture the Warlock makes for himself.
In fact, Magnus Bane usually surrounds himself with people who are aesthetically up to it; he uses them to make his public image even more suggestive. He may be naturally beautiful of course, but the way he dolls up? Perfect. That shirt perpetually open on his chest, those necklaces, not to mention his hair, always styled in a way that seems to defy gravity.
Magnus Bane looks unattainable, no… He is utterly untouchable. He is totally out of reach, especially for rune-bearing people like Alec, who in the end is just content to admire the man from the dance floor, and bask in the energy and grandness that emanate from him. Magnus Bane is like a rock star performing on stage. For everyone to look at, and for no one to get close to. The Warlock doesn't even need to hold his own glass, there's always someone there for him to promptly bring a drink to his mouth, just at the minimal gesture of his fingers. Fingers that are often glowing with an intimidating blue light.
His magic.
Alec is fascinated by the idea of so much power held by one man alone. He sighs. Surely the Warlock is the most attractive man he has ever seen. No one on the dance floor, not among Downwolders, nor among Shadowhunters, holds a candle to him. Not by a long shot.
Well, Alec may have this little crush on Magnus Bane, but that doesn’t change a thing. Because he is just invisible to the man. Things are not so easy between their people and as proof of this, Alec has never been with a Warlock. Not once. Yet, given a chance, he would surely have one ride on the sex carousel with this particular Warlock.
Oh well, it’s just a stupid thought that Alec doesn't waste much time mulling over. What would be the point? Magnus Bane has a reputation, although it is commonly known that he never hangs out with Shadowhunters, if not for business. He despises them, to some extent; even though, Nephilim are allowed into his club. It would be too bold a move, politically speaking, to forbid them from dancing at Pandemonium. After all the Lightwood siblings and a few other Shadowhunters from the New York Institute are quite popular among the Warlock’s fellow Downworlders. So, free ticket to Pandemonium for them. That's how it works, and honestly, it works just fine for Alec.
He enjoys his little escapades at the club and Magnus Bane never looks down at him. Even if the Warlock must be aware of his presence in his club. Yet, he just seems not to care. He just ignores him, as well as the other Shadowhunters that usually come together. Alec is again thinking of inexpressible things he would do to the man - and luckily Warlocks cannot read minds - until the last drop of his cocktail touches his tongue and he darts toward the dance floor to find someone not so out of his league to spend the night with.
It’s easy, as usual, and once again the guy he approaches smoothly while moving to the music is a werewolf. When their gaze met, his eyes gleamed with a greenish light and Alec knows what that means. And he is game, because why not. The young man is tall and has a knockout smile lingering on his mouth. Alec immediately knows he is going to walk off with him. On the other hand, this is why he came, this is how his evenings at Pandemonium usually go since he started coming a couple of years back. He has flirted, hooked up, and even had brief flings with a considerable amount of Downworlders, mostly werewolves. His sister Isabelle, on the other hand, has a weird penchant for vampires, while Jace has a preference for Seelies. Sure, they've gotten into trouble a few times, especially Jace, for having broken more than a few hearts in his wake.
Despite them being rather reckless in their dalliances, they have maintained good relations with a lot of people, having established a few good friendships and alliances, also because, Vampires, Seelies and Werewolves usually don't hold grudges for too long, not over trivial things like hooking up with a Shadowhunter.
Maryse and Robert Lightwood, the Heads of the Institute, had decided to ignore their children’s endeavors and, admittedly, have done a lot to build courteous relationships both with the pack of New York, and the local vampire clan, surely with more orthodox methods than exchanging body fluids. Connection with the Seelie Court was a bit more difficult, but the Queen wasn’t interested in getting in the Shadowhunters’ way and the established agreement was live and let live.
As for the Warlock community, well, every interaction with the Institute was based on business, on making financial deals, especially with a few talented healers and, rarely, the High Warlock himself. Everyone knows the Heads of the Institute have a lot to be forgiven for, but their leadership seems to work out well, after all. The only ones who seem unable to overcome what they did in their youth are their own children. Stories about the abuse they perpetrated on Downworlders have somehow come to their knowledge. The truth is that while other exponents of the Circle were exiled or sentenced to death, Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood were inexplicably pardoned and were even given an Institute to run. It was meant to be a punishment, but Alec hates them for having gotten away with their misdeeds so easily.
Alec was educated to be a politician, so he understands it was all a game of power, of honoring the Lightwood name in front of the Clave, of making alliances, but he can't help but be disgusted by his parents, whose hands are stained with the blood of so many innocent people, including children. That’s unforgivable in Alec’s eyes and conceivably, that is the reason why Warlocks in New York do not normally socialize with Shadowhunters. They are the ones who have suffered the worst persecution of all. They are half demons after all. While werewolves and vampires were once human and Seelies have also angelic blood in their veins, Warlocks were treated just like their demon parents and slain without mercy. Magnus Bane, being the High Warlock in the City and owner of one of the highest-ranked clubs in the Shadow World, can't always avoid dealing with the angelic people he loathes so much. Alec knows that his mother has met him on occasion at the Institute, but the Warlock has never been officially introduced to the younger Lightwoods.
It’s almost funny that Maryse is probably ashamed of them. In her eyes, they are not capable of a diplomatic relationship with such an important representative of the Downworld.
They are disobedient, reckless, indiscreet, often insubordinate and recalcitrant in following her orders, and always prone to defy her authority. In the last couple of years, Maryse has turned from being constantly enraged to resignedly disappointed. Alec remembers the furious quarrels when she used to try to marry him off to one girl or another from Alicante. Alec flipped her out each time, not only metaphorically, and refused to abide by her unreasonable request. The main reason for his refusal to marry a girl is that he is gay. But even if they required him to marry a guy, he wouldn't do it. No way. He values his freedom too much, he is still young and is not ready to marry and have a bunch of children - even adopted ones. Moreover, their parents know he is gay, as well as they know Isabelle and Jace are bisexual. They came out together, right on the occasion of a family dinner, when Maryse continued to insist that Alec at least should date a girl of their choice, give her a chance. Their combined - and epic - coming out only exacerbated the already tense relationship, especially with Maryse. And since then her irate screams have turned into sad, almost pitying looks. Alec doesn't know what pisses him off the most. He knew how to deal with his mother yelling angrily at him. But not with those miserable eyes. He just wanted to tell her, "there's nothing wrong with me, nothing you need to feel sorry for."
Alec has never questioned his mother’s love for them, but he knows she considers her offsprings her greater failure. So, they never get to be involved in her business even for something simple as showing the Warlock around to allow him to reinforce their wards. No. They weren't even considered capable of taking care of a task so uncomplicated.
On the other hand, though, she was also afraid of Magnus Bane, she didn’t trust him and so maybe she was also trying to protect her kids. Alec does not know, but one thing is for sure. The High Warlock of Brooklyn doesn't seem to have gotten over the old grievances that seem to have festered since the end of the Uprising. It's been a little over 18 years since Valentine was killed, by his own wife and the man who had sworn to protect him with his life, his parabatai no less, but Magnus Bane has been distrusting the Clave and its people with the same intensity for all these years. If not more and more profoundly through the years.
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"Alec, my God, have you slept with a werewolf or have you tried something new and fucked a vampire?" Isabelle exclaims laughing and pointing at his neck.
Alec groans brushing his hand over the deflect rune on his throat, which is thoroughly bruised all around. As usual, after having been at the club and having parted ways for the night, the three siblings met at a nice bistro not far from the Institute for breakfast, before sneaking back inside. Their walk-of-shame is something that happens quite often and when they stride into the Op Room after a night out, their fellow Shadowhunters usually just give them a benevolent and a little envious look. Among all of them, they are the wildest and most devil-may-care.
"Shit… I know, he mauled my neck… didn’t he?”
Jace snorts not really in an elegant way. “You, dog!"
Alec laughs. His brother can be so crass.
“Technically, he was the dog. And a very satisfying fuck.” He deadpans sarcastically, making his siblings giggle. He knows how to be crude too apparently. But these dog-related puns with the werewolves are a common joke and no one gets offended by that anymore.
“Anyway, I'll heal it with an iratze.” He sniffs at his T-shirt and grimaces, “God, I do need a shower. What about you? All good?”
He asks casually sipping his black coffee. He must admit that he enjoyed his night with the werewolf at his place. It was intense and quite rough but it helped him to blow off some steam after the unsatisfying patrol they had been on. No demons to slay last night and a lot of pent-up energy to put to good use. Jace smirks proudly, as usual, and eloquently wriggles his eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure, mission complete. I went to Roselyn’s and well, her sister was there too, Miriel, Mariel, Muriel? Something like that, I don’t remember her name, but I do remember that she was very flexible... When I bent her over…"
"Jace, good Lord... we don't need details. We never do, really."
“Well, this could be educational for you, you know?”
“No, that would make me feel like I wanna throw up, so please, shut up.”
Alec rolls his eyes, trying not to picture his brother having hetero sex with two Seelie girls, while Isabelle is putting on her red lipstick, with a hand mirror, and lets out a muffled chuckle at her brothers’ bantering. Jace seems extremely pleased with himself.
“Ok, ok… well, I had fun anyway, thanks for asking. That’s all. But you’re such a buzzkill, bro. What about you Iz?”
“Uhm, all good. I spent the night at the Dumort Hotel, with Stéphane. It was lovely, he whispered French words to me all night, he was very… charming.” She clicks the mirror closed with a smug smile on her red lips.
“Ugh… Sure, you went there to listen to him speak French. That’s right.” Jace mocks her, with a playful patronizing tone.
“No… I went there to get laid, actually, and I did, but it was… sweet… He is a very nice guy, that’s all; maybe I’ll see him again.”
Alec thinks she might obliterate the poor guy, eventually. She never sticks around for too long with the same vampire and she has a couple of on-and-off relationships with a Seelie man and, incredibly, also with a Mundane. She says his obliviousness about the Shadow World gives her thrills. Not that Alec cares, Isabelle can handle her flirts and hookups as she sees fit.
They dawdle at the table, chatting and enjoying their coffees together, treating themselves also with some pumpkin muffins. Differently from the usual, there is no rush this morning. Their parents are in Idris - thanks to the Angels - and they shouldn't be back in New York for at least another couple of days. They both have been summoned to Alicante for who knows what crisis impending the Shadow World. Not that their parents ever involve them in the Institute's political decisions. They are just little soldiers, mere executors of orders, and do not make much use of their theoretical privileged status of being the children of the Heads.
Indeed, quite the opposite of that. They are often punished for insubordination, put on ichor duty, or sent on night shift patrol for days without respite. The night before when they decided to go dancing, it was already after midnight, and they had been patrolling for more than six hours. However, the situation was unusually quiet along the streets, with no suspected demonic activity whatsoever, and so instead of returning back with the others, they ended up staying out all night. But as they say, when the cat's away the mice play, right? Or they go dancing... Or… Whatever.
Alec likes his life after all. It could be better, but it could be so much worse. And luckily he has his siblings by his side, and that’s all that matters.
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As soon as they set foot in the Op Room they stop dead, finding themselves in the presence of their parents. Well, none of them saw that coming.
Their furious, unsympathetic, disappointed parents are back. Hurray. As soon as Maryse sees them, she stalks toward them, stopping them from getting away from her clutches.
"Where the hell have you been?" She spits out through her teeth, angrily. Alec looks her straight in the eyes. He isn’t afraid, and they did nothing wrong.
"Out." He replies, flatly.
"Alexander..." There is a threatening hint in her voice, that makes Alec snap.
"What? We're all of legal age, we don't have to explain ourselves. We went on our patrol shift, dutifully, and got back in time for today's assignments. Who cares where we've been last night? Why do you even care?"
"Well, I care, because I already know where you've been... You went to Magnus Bane’s club, didn’t you?"
"And even if we were? I don't see how that can be a problem. You and Dad are such hypocrites…"
"We are just realists and we worry about you. That man… He is dangerous… And you are so naive.”
“Naive? That’s new…”
“Well, at least, you are unaware of the truth… You may not believe me, but I was so worried… Your father and I need to talk to you, ok? It’s…urgent.”
She sounds oddly frantic and genuinely concerned.
“What is it?” Isabelle asks suddenly worried. She doesn’t like her mother’s attitude. What the fuck may have happened?
“I just can’t believe that we returned earlier from Idris just to warn you and you were dancing at that horrible place! By the Angel, how could you always be so irresponsible?”
“Mother, just tell us what’s going on, ok?” Alec interrupts her, exasperation clear in his deep voice.
“Ok…” she concedes and then sighs before continuing. “Disturbing news was brought to our attention and we must take measures about it as soon as possible. The Clave is counting on us and your father and I... you know the delicate situation we are in."
"Of course, we know, how could we not? Your alliance with Valentine has ruined our future. Despite our family name, all positions of prestige are precluded to us. Because of you and your fucking lack of judgment. So, pardon me if I don't pity you with your delicate situation."
Maybe this is not the best time to dredge up the past, but Alec is so angry with his parents. He can barely hold back. They are there, all judgmental and distraught, thinking they can tell them how to live their lives.
"Alec..." It is their father who has come forward, deeming it necessary for him to intervene.
"Look, we are perfectly aware of our mistakes and you know it. We have always been honest with you, never hidden our… past. But we were young and stupid and we've been trying for years to fix what we did and this may be the occasion to do something important. But we need your help."
"What? This again? I told you, I won't let you marry me off to secure your alliances in Idris."
"This is not what we want from you, in fact, I would say the opposite. We need your… interpersonal skills."
Alec frowns at that. It’s quite unexpected and… unsettling. It is enough to make him shut his mouth and keep his frown on his forehead.
"What do you mean Dad?"
Isabelle asks warily, stepping closer to her brothers. Jace has only folded his arms over his chest in a defying stance.
"You know… Given your particular proclivities and tastes..." Robert begins, but Isabelle snorts loudly.
"Oh God… Proclivities?"
"Isabelle wait... This is important, ok? We need you to go on a mission for the Clave."
A mission?
They are suddenly more interested in what their parents have to tell them. This would be a first, after all. A real mission, not just patrolling around the city.
"What mission?"
Maryse sighs and looks at them more calmly, now that she and Robert have their attention.
"Someone is plotting against the Consul. There seems to be a coalition of Downwolders who believe that the Mortal Instruments are not safe in the hands of the Clave and that they are a danger to all the demon-blooded. We got very worrying intel. It seems that the leaders here in New York have allied with the Seelie Queen to carry out a coup in Alicante. Their final goal is to eliminate all the Shadowhunters, it is not clear how, but it seems there may be a spell capable of… deruning us somehow.”
Alec hears Isabelle gasp.
“What? That’s… horrible.”
“Exactly. Vampires as well as werewolves and Warlocks could be involved in this. What we ask of you is that you gather information. You are good at hanging out with them… Just be careful, now that you know the truth you wouldn’t want to trust them as blindly as you’ve done so far. You don't have to overdo it, nor expose yourself too much. Just try to figure out through the grapevines if anything is going on in the Downworld. Something shady or just… kept hidden.”
“What happened to we are worried about you. Are you ready to throw us into the lion's den now?"
Jace asks and then throws his hands in the air in an exasperated gesture. “You’re fucking incredible…”
“Jace, we are telling you this, so you can be prepared. But as I said, your peculiar skills may be too useful to think about missing this opportunity. I mean, Jace you could get closer to Camille Belcourt, while Alec may try his hand with Maia Roberts? We know you go to eat at the Jade Wolf quite often, and Isabelle? You are surely able to befriend Magnus Bane, aren’t you?”
The three siblings gape at their parents as they had gone insane all of a sudden. And then Jace chuckles hysterically, but it’s a sound that makes Alec shiver.
"You really don't know what you're talking about, do you? Camille has been deposed and the new head of the clan is Raphael Santiago, who is a very close friend of Isabelle’s. And Magnus Bane? He is just an asshole who won't let any of us get anywhere near him. And there's no way Maia could be charmed by Alec because, you know, Alec is gay and enjoys sleeping with male werewolves."
Maryse steps forward, her face a sharp, hard mask of anger, barely contained at this point.
Jace rubbing Alec’s sexuality in their face was the last straw.
“Look, I honestly don't care how you intend to pursue this task, and least of all, who you sleep with, as long as you can get info from your precious Downworlder friends. There could be a war, do you understand? A war! So we must do anything and everything to avert this crisis; we need to do it, at any cost. Also, we could finally get the chance to restore our name in front of the Clave. But we need your cooperation. So, you’ll do as you were ordered if you do not want to be transferred elsewhere with immediate effect!” The woman concludes with a wicked grimace.
“What? You can’t be serious!” Alec shouts in disbelief. But his mother laughs in his face.
“Oh, I can assure you I am. You have been nothing but a thorn in our side. And now… if you can't even achieve the one thing that is required of you, for the benefit of this family, for our future, and probably for the future of all Nephilim alike, well, I can only deem you so useless that you can go and fill the ranks in some other Institute with a shortage of personnel. You know… Seul, Lima, or Stockholm… they keep asking the Clave for recruits. And you know what? You could just go and be useful there, as far as I am concerned. Do we understand each other?”
Maryse’s outburst leaves them at a loss for words, so they just nod their heads, more to acknowledge her words than to agree with them.
“Good. Silence and compliance look good on you. You'll only report to me and your father. We count on your discretion. If there are no questions, you are dismissed. And go make yourself presentable. You look… obscene."
She adds scrunching her nose and looking intently at Isabelle’s skimpy outfit before striding away, followed suit by her husband.
Alec is speechless. Apparently, they are good to fuck around but not for real diplomatic, sensitive missions. What the Hell? Is this the idea their parents have about them?
He feels offended and unfairly belittled; it may be true that they weren't exactly cooperative during their adolescence and that they never missed an opportunity to embarrass their mother or piss her off, but Jace is a formidable warrior, Isabelle has strong diplomatic skills and Alec, well he's strong and resilient, an excellent fighter and with innate strategic and leadership aptitudes. And yet, it had always been clear that bearing the Lightwood name, they would pay the price for their parents' crimes. And they have never been inclined to make sacrifices to redeem themselves from something that wasn't their fault in the first place.
The most they can aspire to is to stay at the Institute for life, and maybe Alec can one day become Head, if he doesn't keep screwing up every chance to show off his skills.
Alec looks at Isabelle and Jace. They are as bewildered as he is, if not more. What their mother has asked them is basically to betray their friends, and double-cross them. But then another thought flashes through Alec’s mind. And an unexpected one at that.
Apparently, he now may have a chance to get closer to the man who has been living rent-free in his wet dreams for years. Sure, he doesn't like having to submit to his mother's blackmail, and honestly, he doesn't even believe that what Maryse reported can be accurate or true. New York Downworlders have been loyal friends to them, their relationship with the young Shadowhunters is based on cooperation and reliability, and now their parents want to jeopardize the lasting peace between them by sending them to spy on their allies? That’s insane. Isabelle and Jace are still looking at him with a baffled expression on their faces. But Alec snickers at them; there is nothing to worry about, actually. Maybe they just have to humor their mother for a while, faking to play along with her mischievous plan until the intel from the Clave turns out to be what it actually is, i.e. bullshit. And then everything will be back to normal. This is just another glitch of the Clave, and Alec is used to dealing with their shenanigans. There is nothing to be concerned about. On the contrary, this could be a great opportunity. In fact, Alec now needs to come up with a plan to approach the most unapproachable of all Downworlders, a way to become his friend (and hopefully more than that). Magnus Bane is the most fascinating challenge he has ever found himself to face. And the hottest of all. Alec is going to find out if the Warlock is really as unreachable as he seems.
But first, he needs to talk to his partners in crime, his perplexed and visibly worried siblings. They won’t let him down, Alec knows that.
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DANI WHAT IN TEH ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT (with all teh love bc you are sweetheart though a bit of a devil too) EVIL MAGNUS, u know we all jokingly went with oh evil magnus with only love alec will be soo hot BUT NO THIS ISNT WHAT WE MEANT. I KNEW IT I KNEWIT magnus bringing him back was not going to end well for him. all teh time that warning of other max was ringing in my head that one changing canon event is gonna suffer. but turn evil?!, all shadowhunters resurrected ones turned evil, bc of that mikkel i think his name was, knew he would be trouble, bc i knew dani you will not foreshadow soo hard with these two things. poor other max suffered so much, but i knew he wld die protecting being a hero. I SWEAR IF TEH CURRENT TIMELINE DONT LISTEN TO HIM THIS TIME AND FOCUS ON THIER STUPID BELIEFS THAT THINGS WILL CHANGE i am looking at current max, david, hermes and side eyeing alec too bro you seem delusional WAKE UP ALEC MAX HERMES DAVID. magnus and rafe though with udnerstanding consequences and being smart and careful about it still DID IT MAGNUS wtf.
demon world is better that this Dani, atleast people were good.
DANI I NEED YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A CUUTE MALEC FIC please one shot is fine too (preferably with max and rafe). please i need to wash my memory of past 30 mins with the strongest detergent to remove reading eveil magnus by cute loving and amazing badass magnus being in love with alec and hi slittel family.
LIKE KILLING MAX, HIS LITTLE BLUEBERRY, you know we knew max and alec is close but i felt magnus and max had such a special littel bond, like his first kid was max the one who taught him to love as a father, teh one who will be at his side forever, what max thought in the about being killed by his own father was soo sad the one who is supposed to protect and love you forever. I thought nothing would be more painful than arthur die in this fic which i came to terms with but seeing magnus a character that i have loved since 2015 the first time i read him trun eveil and kill max was legit more painful liek even more than alec dying in fmf bc he is mortal so it was gonna happen sooner or later and it was sad but not painful but magnsu eveil as opposite words paradoxical really. (ps not gonna lie i never liked with devlin tech and mundanes to be soooo ingrained bc i liked teh serecy of the shadow world, but i know it also helped with health care so yeah prob taht why i have re read all lbaf stories except the ones with mallory the III and IV one?) like people in current timeline need to work together you little shits and get thier head sout of thier selfish little problems, otherwise things are only gonna get worse. poor other max need not deal with all this coldheartedness and bitchy attitude, has already suffered through too much. i need someone to give him a hug.
i dont think other magnus and otehr max if they survive are going to have a healthy relationship after this ever.
THOUGH I love your brain dani, i love how you make these complex storylines and make us feel so much.
also i hope you know how much you love magnus and how you will not let him die evil 😘
also when is teh next installment of lbaf dropping, i cant wait !!
sorry for the all teh caps and screaming but i literally cant wait to see what happens next
I hope you drank some water after this 🫣
I'm afraid there aren't no one shots for the time being (although you know how i'm suddenly hit with inspiration so who knows) but i promise the next two fics i will write - the rwrb au and a malec one that is in the works - are mostly fun and very much less angsty.
After those two, we will return to lbaf once more. It will most probably be after august or something :)
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Heyy peeps!!
So uh. A while ago I had this idea for my 100th fic. But unfortunately I’m not vibing with it anymore. And as a result I’m in this sort of slump of “I can’t write anything until I write my special 100th fic and I’m not really vibing with my 100th fic”
Sooooo I think. I think I’m just gonna scrap that idea, or maybe save it for a later date. (It’s a good idea!! But it hinges less on plot and more on vibes and I’m more of a PLOT person and ig that’s why I’m not vibing with it. Anyways)
And what we’re gonna do is - well, how about a choose your own type of fic?
Y’all choose the setting, the genre, tropes etc. and starting May 1st imma write one short chapter per day, which I will post both on tumblr and ao3. Aaaaand each chapter will have a poll at the end, with the outcome of the poll deciding what happens in the next chapter. (Meaning, YOU will decide what happens next)
I hope that made sense hahshshhs. Anyways…
#I suspect the poll will be overwhelmingly yes anyways lol#imma post more polls for the fic later!!!#don’t mind me ramblings
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Hi! Happy Friday!
As I said last Friday, I'm planning to post a link to one of my existing works, from oldest to newest, every Friday from now on. This is both an attempt at reaching more/new people, and reminding people that you can interact with old works on Ao3! It's not cringe or stalker-y or whatever else people claim; it's just gonna make us writers happy.
Anyway. This is Hiding From Your Home! A total of 13.6k words, in seven chapters; the fic is complete, but it's part of an ongoing series. It can easily be read on it's own, though.
Tags: Shadowhunters, Malec, Canon Divergent, wing-fic, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Dragons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending
Summary: Magnus needs a Dragonstone for a potion, but as both the stone and needing it is rare enough that Magnus doesn’t keep it on hand, he needs to buy it – unfortunately, this specific Dragonstone comes with an actual, tiny dragon attached.
Dragons themselves are even rarer than the stones, thought by most to be extinct, so Magnus won’t harm the little creature, but he can’t very well use the stone with the dragon still clinging to it. Enter Alec, who talks the dragon into a trade, and Magnus into keeping the dragon.
What Magnus doesn’t know is that dragons are actually angelic beings, not demonic or ‘neutral’ as most believe, and that, well. Alec is part dragon.
And a little teaser from chapter 1:
Magnus is pulled out of his thoughts by a tug on his wards which alerts him someone has entered the hallway outside the loft, and sure enough: A moment later Alexander walks through the door. He still knocks, even if he no longer waits for Magnus to open the door for him. Magnus would tell him not to bother, but he’s the only one who does that, so it means Magnus always knows it’s him rather than any of the other people who has access through his wards.
“Magnus?”
Magnus had, it seems, gotten a little lost in his thoughts again, about both the dragon and his boyfriend’s manners.
“There you are,” Alec says as he pokes his head through the door to the apothecary. “Hey.”
“Hello, darling.” Magnus waves Alec in, walks around his worktable, and tries not to melt too much when Alec greets him with what has become a customary kiss hello – barely more than a peck, but so domestic.
“What’s got you so distracted? Complicated po—”
Between his upbringing as a soldier of the Clave and his current position as a powerful politician in the Shadow World, not much can shock Alec enough to make him freeze up the way he does now. It’s subtle, but with his hand still on Alec’s chest Magnus can feel the exact moment Alec sees the answer to his own question.
“Is that a dragon?”
#Shadowhunters#Malec#Magnus Bane#Alec Lightwood#wing-fic#Dragon!Alec#Old Works Friday#or maybe#Old Works Weekend#? maybe#I'll come up with a cool name at some point#Hiding From Your Home#HFYH fic
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bloody but unbowed
Malec | Rated general | tw implied/referenced torture, discrimination against Downworlders | Canon Divergence, Bad Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Bad Parabatai Jace Wayland, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captivity, Rescue
Summary: “Now,” Imogen says — quietly, sternly, insistently. A promised pain in her tone makes Alec want to flinch away, but the bindings on his chair keep him still as the statue he must pretend to be. “Tell me where the Downworlder base is.”
~
Twenty years ago, the Circle won. Six years ago, Alec Lightwood began freeing every Downworlder to enter the Institute’s cells. A week ago, he was caught.
Nobody’s going to free him.
A/N: This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2022: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver.
Art (above, you can also see it here) is by Twigen!
Title is from the poem Invictus by William Ernst Henley.
Read it on AO3 or below the cut.
“Now,” Imogen says — quietly, sternly, insistently. A promised pain in her tone makes Alec want to flinch away, but the bindings on his chair keep him still as the statue he must pretend to be. “Tell me where the Downworlder base is.”
“I don’t know anything,” Alec manages, voice hoarse, throat sore from hours of screaming and dehydration. It’s only partially a lie — he knows where several Downworlder haunts are, places he makes sure to keep patrols away from, but they’re not technically Downworlder bases. The Hunter’s Moon is just a bar, Pandemonium is a club, and while the Hotel Dumort and Jade Wolf are the main headquarters of the vampires and the werewolves, respectively, the place most like a Downworlder base is probably Magnus’ loft — which Alec has intentionally never learnt the location of. Even so, Alec knows perfectly well she’d love to learn about the other Downworlder haunts, and therefore he cannot let her know anything.
Her lip curves up in disgust. “Liar.” A gesture, and the man standing beside her steps forward, stele in hand. Alec tries to cringe away, but it’s no use; he’s weak from too little food and too much pain, and anyway, he’s tied too tightly to the chair.
The stele traces remorselessly over the Agony rune on Alec’s shoulder, mostly black but tinged with red from frequent usage. Alec is well accustomed to the moment of breathless peace when the stele moves back, but there’s no getting used to the abrupt surge of pain that follows, and he loses himself in screams.
—————————————
A week earlier, Alec walked quickly and quietly down the hallways of the New York Institute, seraph blade at the ready although he hoped not to use it.
It was quiet — noon was approaching, and for now, most good Shadowhunters were in bed catching up on the sleep they’d missed overnight. Demons were nocturnal; therefore, so were Shadowhunters. Alec knew he was giving up on precious, already-scarce sleep to do this, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Magnus had told him about the most recent captures, including his friend Catarina Loss and her daughter, Madzie. Alec wasn’t about to let a child stay in the Institute’s cells a moment longer than necessary. Magnus’ message had been relatively short and to the point, anger visible in every line. Alec had immediately agreed to break everyone out of the Institute later that day.
By now — after six years of rescuing every Downworlder the Institute managed to lay hands on — Alec had plenty of practice in subduing opponents; he stepped silently up behind a guard, slammed the hilt of his seraph blade down on his head, and activated the guard’s somnos rune to keep him down. He’d wake up in fifteen minutes with no memory of falling asleep.
The next hallway had two guards, which he dispatched as easily as the first. Nobody, after all, expected Alec Lightwood — Head of the New York Institute, heir to the Lightwood name, scion of one of the proudest Shadowhunter bloodlines, eldest son of Valentine’s greatest devotees — to be the traitor breaking Downworlders out. The latest rumour going around was about an underground movement with several hundred people in it, as, apparently, only that could explain how Downworlders kept disappearing from the Institute’s cells. The guards on duty today would be investigated for misdemeanours, as would the people watching the monitors, but Alec was diligent in his efforts to conceal himself from all suspicion; as Head, his access to the camera feeds allowed him to hide his presence in the cell corridors and then remove any traces of tampering in the recordings. The investigation into this breakout would be as stumped as all the others had been.
He turned another corner soundlessly, and the last guard dropped to the ground. Cells lined this corridor, at least fifty on each side, but only ten were filled — it hadn’t been long since his last rescue, but he’d sped up the timeline for Madzie’s sake. He saw her immediately, a girl who looked younger than the six-year-old she was, and for a moment, he was frozen with a furious horror that they’d dare capture a child.
Shaking himself out of it, Alec pulled out the guard’s stele and swiped it over the cell doors, one after another, then activated the rune that’d unlock the prisoners’ chains. When he’d rescued Magnus a bit more than three years ago, Magnus had looked up at him with golden cat eyes which, even then, had taken Alec’s breath away, and asked how he knew Magnus wouldn’t just kill him where he stood. Alec’s reply — that without a Shadowhunter’s help, he wouldn’t be able to make it out of the Institute to a place where he could portal away — had, apparently, satisfied him; he’d followed Alec’s lead in silence and winked at him before portalling out. He’d been dirty and bruised from the Shadowhunters’ rough handling, but Alec had thought he was the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen.
The ten Downworlders climbed warily to their feet: two warlocks, Madzie and a blue-skinned woman, presumably Catarina Loss; a faerie, androgynous and tattooed with vines; four werewolves, including a Black woman with scars along her neck whom Alec recognised as Maia Roberts from the Hunter’s Moon; and three vampires, one of whom Alec knew as Simon Lewis. “You’re Shadow?” Catarina asked, head tilted to the side.
“Yes.” The pseudonym was a necessity — if they knew his name was Alec Lightwood, they’d never trust him, and they’d probably all end up getting caught. (Shadow seemed fitting, seeing as Alec worked in the shadows and was hunted by, well, Shadowhunters.) Only Magnus knew Alec’s true identity, and the fact that he trusted Alec despite it was one of the reasons Alec loved him.
(It was, perhaps, ridiculous to be in love with a man he’d seen a grand total of twice, but he’d seen plenty of Magnus’ personality in their conversations — his quips, comments, and clever questions, even before their communications had strayed from strict practicalities. By now, Magnus knew more of Alec than anyone else, and not only because he knew Alec was Shadow; Alec had told him secrets, emotions, dreams, and hopes, that he couldn’t even tell his parabatai.
He didn’t know if Magnus felt the same. In any case, it wasn’t like there was much of a future for them; after all, Alec’s people were doing their utmost to exterminate Magnus’. That thought always brought him back to earth from any dreams of love.)
Most of the Downworlders came out of their cells easily enough — they probably knew of Alec already; Magnus had mentioned that Shadow was fairly famous by now — but Madzie remained in hers, pressed against the wall as far from Alec as she could get. Catarina knelt in front of her, trying to encourage her out; judging by the wary glances the young girl was sending Alec, she didn’t want to trust a Shadowhunter. Alec couldn’t blame her, but he wondered what had happened in her short life to make her fear him so much.
Carefully (but quickly, as they didn’t have infinite time), Alec went down on one knee, a little way away, to make himself seem smaller. He caught a glimpse of small slits on the sides of Madzie’s neck and guessed they were her warlock mark. “Cool gills.”
She looked up, a small smile blooming on her face, and with the help of the friendly expression Alec wore, Catarina soon succeeded in coaxing her out of the cell.
Alec beckoned everyone forward, and took them through the winding route of passageways which led to the exit where the portal would be waiting. His watch told him it was 11:56; Magnus’ portal would open at twelve, so they had enough time. It was much easier to do this with Magnus’ help than it’d been before — he’d had to hope that one of the captive warlocks had enough power to make a portal, or else he’d need to help them across the city to one of the Downworlder haunts he knew. Shortly after he’d rescued Magnus, there’d been a close call with a guard, and a Downworlder had been injured to the point where he couldn’t walk; there’d been no warlock capable of portalling them to safety in the group. Fortunately, another prisoner had been Raphael Santiago, a friend of Magnus’, and he’d called Magnus using Alec’s phone. The High Warlock had opened up a portal, and Alec had seen the Downworlders safely to the other side before returning to the Institute to avoid detection.
(Magnus had given Alec the journal they used to communicate a few days later; it was spelled to mirror an identical journal of Magnus’ so they could write to each other without more traceable phones or fire messages.
Magnus’ inventiveness was another thing Alec admired him for.
The most stunning thing about the journal, though, was the level of trust it displayed: Alec could so easily have set up a trap for him using it, and while he was sure Magnus took precautions, there remained a chance they’d fail. It was a calculated risk, and Alec would ensure that it turned out for the best. He could not betray that trust.)
Their small group of Downworlders was only two hallways from the exit when the Institute’s alarm sounded.
Alec realised with a jolt that in his hurry and horror at Madzie’s treatment, he’d forgotten to activate the last guard’s somnos rune. The blow to his head had knocked him out, but that wouldn’t — couldn’t — last; he must’ve woken up, seen the prisoners missing, and hoped to sound the alarm before everyone was in the clear.
Before Alec could tell everyone to hurry up and get out, he saw Madzie’s pale, terrified face. “Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly, gently. “I’ll keep you safe, okay?”
“Okay,” she said trustingly, and Catarina smiled at him. That wasn’t enough, though; she was still too young to move quickly, and the Downworlders seemed too weak to carry her.
“We’re going to need to go fast,” he told her. “Can I give you a ride?”
She hesitated for a moment, and Catarina tensed slightly, but then she nodded, and Alec scooped her easily up onto his back. He barely noticed the weight; already, the other Downworlders were following him down the hallway. 11:58 — two minutes until Magnus’ portal would open up and bring the Downworlders to safety.
“Is your name really Shadow?” Madzie asked in his ear as he hurried forward, careful not to outstrip the slowest Downworlders.
“No,” Alec told her honestly. He knew it was unlikely he’d get out of here alive; keeping his identity secret didn’t much matter anymore. “My real name’s Alec.”
“Alec.” He felt her nod confidently against the back of his neck. “I’m Madzie. You can be my friend.”
“Gladly,” he said, lips pulling up into a smile. Whatever his fate, he liked this girl, too quiet and careful for her age but still with a child’s willingness to make friends.
They reached the exit only moments later, and Alec let Madzie gently down to the ground. She grinned at him, brighter than before, but he didn’t have time to smile back before the first guard came running out the door.
Alec moved without hesitation, pushing Madzie behind him as his seraph blade lit up in his hand. This wasn’t the time to spare lives with somnos runes and knockout blows; Alec’s blade sliced easily through the man’s neck, and blood spattered, thankfully more on Alec than Madzie. He hoped he hadn’t lost her good regard, but her life was more important.
“Behind me!” he called, hoping the Downworlders obeyed as he took up a position in front of the exit. Like this, the space was narrow enough that his opponents would have to come at him one at a time; he wouldn’t last forever, but he’d last the sixty seconds until Magnus’ portal opened up. A flash of movement farther down the corridor; he unslung his bow and sent an arrow through the next guard with enough force to kill the woman behind him, too; the third guard, at her side, growled and threw herself forward — directly onto Alec’s blade, swapped with his bow and held at the ready.
Those three would’ve been stationed closest to this door; he had about fifteen seconds before the rest of the Institute arrived, and then he’d need to hold them off long enough for the Downworlders to get through the portal, and then he’d— well. It was best not to think about what would happen to him. Only one thought pierced his mental shields: I’ll never see Magnus again. He pushed it away before he could linger on the emotions it brought.
“Alec?” Madzie’s voice, nervous. Alec spared a moment to turn to her with a small smile and nod for her to continue, one eye still on the doorway. “Are you coming with us when we leave?”
“I can’t, little princess,” Alec told her gently. “They’d be able to track me too easily, and then they’d find all of you.” He had a parabatai, after all; the Clave might not be able to track Downworlders through Magnus’ wards, but Alec doubted if any wards could stand up to the force of parabatai tracking. He couldn’t lead the Clave to the main headquarters of the Downworlder resistance.
Madzie looked upset, but the fifteen seconds were up, and now a group of twenty more people were hurrying down the hallway to confront Alec. Too many; he wouldn’t be able to hold them all off, not long enough for Magnus’ portal to arrive.
He threw back his hood, drawing himself up into the attitude of a commander, of a leader — the leader they’d all been trained to obey without question. “Halt!”
Instinctively reacting to his tone, the Shadowhunters paused, and Alec gained nearly three seconds to send arrows through the necks of those nearest to him. That left a total of ten bodies on the ground, hampering the other Shadowhunters’ movement forward; even once they’d recovered from their shock that Alec Lightwood was the one smuggling Downworlders out, they still had to climb over their fellows’ corpses to reach Alec, and he dispatched them one after the other. This was better; he could keep this up for as long as he needed to.
He heard the swoosh of an opening portal, then the sounds of people passing through — one, two, three, four — he blocked a strike and stabbed his seraph blade into a woman’s chest, but she managed to wrench away from him before he could pull the blade out again and he had to waste precious moments drawing a new seraph blade — seven Downworlders had gone through, eight, nine, ten.
The portal closed, and Alec let his weapons fall to the floor.
~
They dragged him in front of Maryse.
Of course they did; with the Head of the Institute out of commission — guilty of treason, in this case, but it would be the same if he were unconscious or dead — the Headship passed to his Second in Command: Maryse. Usually, that rank would be occupied by Jace as Alec’s parabatai, but leading the Institute didn’t really suit him; Izzy was in training to take over as Alec’s Second, but until she completed her training, Maryse would fulfil that role. She didn’t often need to.
Now, Alec’s mother looked at him with eyes full of nothing but disgust. If there was betrayal in them, it was buried deep; she wouldn’t let such a personal emotion show in front of anyone, let alone the son she now knew was a traitor. The traitor, really. Shadow.
She didn’t meet Alec’s eyes, but he could read her well. They both knew that now, in these interminably long seconds, she had a choice to make: she could use the influence and power of the Lightwood name to deny or cover up the evidence of his wrongdoing, perhaps blame it on one of the guards — she was unscrupulous enough for that — and shelter Alec from the worst of the consequences, although she’d lower the prestige of the family name; or, she could turn Alec in, distance herself from him as much as possible, keep the Lightwood name well clear of Alec’s disgrace to protect the rest of the family, and abandon him to his fate.
Logically, he knew — they both knew — that the latter was the only choice she could ever make. Maryse Lightwood was ruthless, and if she needed to sacrifice one son for the rest of her family, she would do it.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, however, when she ordered him put in chains.
It hurt more when she called in Izzy and Jace — Robert and Max, Alec thought dully, must have remained in Idris — and explained the situation in crisp, cold tones. Alec’s siblings stared at him in shock, then confusion, then denial; when Alec didn’t deny anything Maryse accused him of, their expressions morphed into betrayal hidden by cold anger. The three Lightwoods — Alec’s family, however flawed, however prejudiced — left the room without another word.
They just — left. Abandoned him, to torture and certain death, because he’d saved the lives of Downworlders they could never see as people.
The guards dragged Alec before a Silent Brother, mouth and eyes sewn up tight, who silently removed the parabatai rune from Alec’s side. Full deruning wasn’t necessary — it would weaken him to no purpose — but this would spare Jace the pain of Alec’s torture. Alec found himself grateful for it; even if Jace had abandoned him, even if Jace hated Downworlders with a passion that made no sense to Alec, it would be better if Jace didn’t have to feel any of the pain coming for Alec.
Their bond was already weakened by rejection and secrets; when it shattered, rune fading to a pale scar, Alec closed his eyes to ride out the ache and almost wished it had hurt more.
Then, they brought Alec to one of the cells he’d so recently broken the Downworlders out of, where he waited for Imogen Herondale and agony.
————————————————————
After a while, the Agony rune subsides. Thankfully, they don’t last long, although Imogen applies them again and again until Alec’s runes scream from overuse.
Alec can remember studying the rune at the Academy, learning how to draw it, learning what it felt like to experience it — first academically, then practically. They taught that the recipient would first experience physical pain, then recall painful memories, and then go through yet more painful mental delusions; then they seared the rune onto his skin, and he felt it all himself.
The thing with the Agony rune is that it only amplifies pain the receiver has already experienced. The first time Alec bore the rune, the physical pain was bad — every broken bone, every scrape, every ache piled on top of each other — but the memories were worse, combining fear for Izzy’s life the time she’d fallen off a rooftop with every disapproving glare Maryse ever sent him; his delusions were all of his family dying, desperate, dead.
Now, it’s different. The physical pain is worse thanks to the severing of the parabatai bond; he sees his family turning away from him, Maryse’s cold expression, Magnus chained up in a cell; he imagines Izzy and Jace dying, and worse, he thinks Magnus dies too, hurt and chained and broken. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.
They’ve had him for a week, and he knows nobody will come to get him. His family chose to reject him rather than endanger themselves, and nobody else will break him out — not his subordinates who he’s betrayed, not Magnus who can’t gather the chaotic and opposing groups he leads to free Downworlders, let alone a Shadowhunter. A Lightwood.
Imogen is there every day, demanding answers; Alec wishes he knew less, wishes he couldn’t give away the few precious hideaways the Downworld has, because at least then they wouldn’t be at risk. He doesn’t tell her anything, of course — he is trained in both giving and resisting torture, and he has always excelled at the latter; perhaps it’s what Jace calls called his idiotic hard-headed stubbornness — but he knows eventually they’ll wear him down, whether it take weeks or months or even years. The Agony rune brings unimaginable pain; someday, he will forget to keep his mouth shut as he surfaces from it, and the secrets will come spilling out.
Thankfully, the Soul Sword is no longer an option — Valentine tried to use it to destroy the entire Downworld, but Alec stole it and passed it off to Magnus, who destroyed it. They can’t compel Alec to tell the truth with anything but raw, naked torture, and that is not a quick process. He has time, but sooner or later, he will give in, and he cannot let that happen.
The best solution, of course, would be to escape, but even without the parabatai bond to track him wherever he goes, there’s no way he can get out; Imogen still seems to think Shadow might be a group rather than an individual, and she’s tripled the guard on his cell in case any compatriots try to free him. (He wishes he had compatriots.) The guards watch him carefully, day and night (or what he thinks is night if his internal clock is still right); he’s never unchained, and the door only opens to admit Imogen. He can’t free himself.
The second-best solution is to set himself free in the other sense. If Alec dies, he won’t betray anyone; the Downworld will be safe — or, at least, as safe as he can make it, which is not very — and Alec, well, perhaps he’ll be better off dead than feeling the burn of the Agony rune again and again.
Unfortunately, the practicalities are harder: Imogen is well aware that he might choose that fate and has taken precautions. There aren’t any sharp edges near enough for him to reach, and he’s force-fed — or, if he refuses, knocked out and put on an IV drip full of enough drugs to make him worry he’ll let something slip. He’s been eating enough to keep them happy but not enough to stop himself from weakening; he’s heard stories of the Agony rune shorting out a heart, so he can at least hope for that. Otherwise, he’ll have to wait for an opportunity to present itself.
His muscles are tired, and possibly atrophying, seeing as he can’t move from the chair. They feed him regularly enough, but thanks to his voluntary starvation, his stomach rumbles with hunger; he’s weak, but he cannot falter. Mistakes endanger the Downworld, and he cannot let anything happen to them — to Madzie, to Raphael, to Maia, to Cat, to Magnus.
(Magnus, who he loves. Magnus, who he will never speak to again. Magnus, who he’s only met twice but knows better than anyone else.)
He made a mistake with the guard, forgetting to draw the somnos rune, and now he can no longer free the Downworlders that New York captures. The cells at the opposite end of the hallway are filling up, and he knows these Downworlders, like Alec himself, will not find a miraculous escape.
~
Alec wakes up when his cell door swings open.
It’s a different noise than it usually makes — the guards throw it open easily, carelessly, well-accustomed to opening it. Certain of their right to be there. It squeals harshly on the stone floor, loud enough to drag Alec from sleep.
This time, it opens slowly; the squeak is softer but persistent. The touch is more tentative, careful, as though the opener is uncertain of their welcome. Alec shakes off the last traces of sleep quickly, well-used to the aches of waking in his uncomfortable position in his chair. Whoever this is, they’re not the usual guards that precede food or one of Imogen’s visits, and that means he needs to be even more alert than usual.
The corridor is dark, lit only by witchlights at irregular intervals that brighten when Nephilim pass by; they’re not illuminated now, despite the dark outline in the doorway, and he blinks rapidly to make out who it is. The outline clarifies into a person as his eyes grow accustomed to the dark—
“Magnus?”
He’s dreaming. He has to be; Magnus wouldn’t come here, into the depths of the New York Institute, of his own free will. If this is a dream, though, it’s a strange one — he’s only met Magnus twice in person, after all, and although the memories are mostly distinct, he doubts if his subconscious could conjure up Magnus’ face in such precise detail. He’s even more beautiful than Alec remembers, clichéd as it sounds; he’s wearing dark clothing, more austere and utilitarian than the dirty, torn outfit his captivity left him in or the brilliantly-coloured one he wore when he portalled Raphael and the other Downworlders away.
“Alexander,” Magnus says softly, and Alec couldn’t possibly be dreaming because he’s never heard Magnus say his name aloud before, and no imagination could come up with this. Magnus has written Alec’s name often, in its full length, and Alec will never admit that he sometimes traces over the curves of Magnus’ handwriting with his fingers, but he thinks he might like it even more when Magnus says it aloud.
“What are you doing here?” Alec asks, rather than voice the I love you that sings quietly in his blood.
“Rescuing you, of course,” Magnus returns, a shadow of a grin visible through the dark as he bends down in front of Alec and sends blue sparks toward Alec’s chains.
Rescuing you. Magnus — Magnus has come here, into the Institute, into danger, to free Alec — to rescue a Lightwood, of all people, from Imogen’s clutches. Why would he risk himself—
But of course, he knows that Alec could tell Imogen about Pandemonium, the Hunter’s Moon, the Jade Wolf, or the Hotel DuMort. All the Downworld’s last sanctuaries, endangered by Alec’s stupidity in getting captured; Magnus would need to prevent him from giving anything away.
No, that doesn’t explain it. Magnus has never managed to free any Downworlder captives, although they, too, could have told where the Downworld gathered. It’s impossible to get anyone out of the Institute without all the Downworld factions working together, and Magnus has complained at length about how difficult it is to get them to do so; vampire/werewolf rivalries are, of course, common knowledge, but faeries don’t much like vampires either, the warlocks and the faeries fight over which race is older, and the werewolves are unwilling to participate in any rescue attempts as, due to the other races’ immortality, captivity would be just the blink of an eye for them. Magnus hasn’t been able to gather sufficient forces to effect a jailbreak.
And even Magnus can’t break anyone out on his own. The Institute’s cameras are heavily runed against warlock interference, and surveillance is constant; Alec knows the only way for a Downworlder to get into the cell corridors is if there’s another attack elsewhere in the building, drawing attention away from the cameras. Alec listens intently; sure enough, he can hear faint echoes of fighting from the corridors above them.
Somehow, Magnus has united the Downworld to rescue Alec.
Now, however, is not the time to marvel over that. Magnus has managed to break the chains binding Alec to the chair; Alec pushes himself to his feet, but a rush of dizziness makes him sway on the spot until Magnus catches him. He can’t walk like this, and Magnus needs to save his magic for their escape. “Can I have one of the guards’ steles?”
Magnus flicks his fingers, and a stele appears in Alec’s hand. Despite the burn of rune exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him, he activates iratze, mendelin to strengthen his constitution, and Stamina and Nutrition for good measure. His skin itches painfully, and he knows he’ll crash hard when the runes wear off, but it’s worth it as he steadies on his feet. Magnus hesitates to release him, so Alec pulls away himself, trying not to regret the loss of contact.
A fire message whistles through the air and into Magnus’ hand, still outstretched toward Alec. He glances at it and scowls. “The others are drawing back. We’re on our own getting out.”
Presumably, the Institute has recovered from the shock of the attack and is successfully fending off the Downworlders who’ve attacked upstairs. No matter; they’ve done enough, allowing Magnus enough time to get here. “We should get moving, then,” Alec says aloud.
Magnus nods sharply and thankfully spares Alec the indignity of asking whether he thinks he can make it out on his own. Alec knows what he is and isn’t capable of; thanks to the runes humming to life under his skin, he’s strong enough. Barely.
He takes the seraph blades of a guard at the door — best not to be unarmed if they’re seen and attacked — and follows Magnus at an easy run. The passageways twist back and forth in the familiar route from the cells to the exit; Alec is horribly aware of the cameras fixed on them, recording every movement rather than the looped videos he always uses while breaking Downworlders out. (Videos he used. He’ll never be able to break anyone out again.)
Fortunately, they get most of the way to the exit without being intercepted. Unfortunately, two corridors away from the door, Shadowhunters come spilling out of a side passage to block their way.
Alec activates his seraph blades, praying his runes hold up and wishing he had his bow. A blast of magic knocks about half the Shadowhunters to the ground, and then the rest are too close for Magnus to cast spells without risking Alec, so it devolves into close battle.
Magnus fights with magic wreathing his hands, though Alec knows it must be harder than usual, thanks to the adamas and magic-dampening runes surrounding them. He covers Alec’s back, and Alec does the same; being Shadow, combined with hours of training to keep up with his rather more gifted siblings, means that Alec fights better than most of their attackers even when he’s not at full strength, but he and Magnus are still outnumbered several times over. A Shadowhunter lands a deep blow to his side, but he ignores it in favour of killing her, quick and efficient. This is only a reserve group, not the full force of the Institute (thankfully), but if they can slow Alec and Magnus down enough, they’ll be trapped, and Magnus will be captured.
Alec cannot let that happen. (Not again.)
Two Shadowhunters fall to the seraph blades he wields; a spurt of magic knocks another one to the ground, and Alec steps over the body to sink his bloody swords into a ribcage, a neck, an abdomen. He doesn’t know if he’s imagining the tramp of disciplined footsteps in the hallways approaching them; if he isn’t, they only have moments left, and he fights with a renewed ferocity. Blood spatters, and Alec knows his runes will give out soon enough, but a last burst of magic kills the two Shadowhunters still blocking their way, and Magnus takes his arm as they run for it.
There are definitely footsteps behind them, running footsteps of properly-runed Shadowhunters who aren’t nearing collapse, but the door is closer than the guards at their heels, and Magnus opens a portal just beyond the doorway moments before they step through, Alec almost stumbling, falling headfirst through the swirl of blue sparks that vanishes behind them.
The last thing Alec sees before unconsciousness claims him is Magnus’ face bending over him, lips forming his name.
~
When Alec wakes up, it’s to three warlocks sitting by his bedside, bathed in morning light.
It takes him a moment to remember that he’s not in the cell anymore; he’s safe, Magnus came for him, but the feeling of that cell still casts a shadow over his skin and leaves a phantom ache in the Agony rune on his shoulder. To distract himself, he looks around.
Magnus is slumped over in a chair, head at an awkward angle, obviously asleep. Catarina Loss is in a second chair on the other side of Alec’s bed — or, Alec realises, Magnus’ bed; this must be Magnus’ apartment — but she’s in a much more comfortable-looking position. Madzie is sitting on the bed near Alec’s hips, watching him intently with a crease in her eyebrows.
Alec has barely enough time to note that he’s aching, though less than he should be, before Madzie’s eyes light up with the realisation that he’s awake, and he finds himself with an armful of excited warlock. “Alec! You’re okay!”
His aches don’t exactly appreciate the impact, but he sits up anyway, grinning at her. “That I am, little sorceress.”
“Cat said you would be, but I was still worried,” she tells him with all the earnestness of a child. “You were nice about my gills, and you saved all of us from the bad Shadowhunters. I asked Cat if they’d hurt you and she didn’t answer, so I asked Uncle Magnus, and he looked sad. Did they hurt you?”
Alec thinks of Agony runes and screams, of painful memories that drift into still worse hallucinations. He can’t exactly tell Madzie about all that, young as she is, but he doesn’t want to lie to her either, so he compromises. “I’m all right now. Don’t worry about me.”
“We were all rather worried about you,” a voice says from beside the bed, and Alec’s head whips up to see Magnus, apparently awoken by Madzie’s excited speech. There’s something warm in his eyes as he looks at the two of them, Madzie in Alec’s lap, and Alec remembers that she called him Uncle Magnus — he loves this little warlock, clear as daylight.
“You’re lucky I was here with Madzie when you two portalled back,” Cat adds, also apparently awake.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay after Magnus saved you,” Madzie explains, dark eyes serious. “Cat said I should let you recover, but I don’t think I’m hurting you — am I?”
“Not at all,” Alec tells her, ignoring the pain in his side. “I’ve never been better.”
Cat glances at him more critically than Madzie, eyes slipping down to his aching side where he could feel the pressure of a bandage below Madzie’s weight. “But as we know Alec’s alright now, why don’t we leave him to rest a bit more?”
Madzie’s lips purse, but she jumps off Alec’s lap without protest. “Bye, Alec! I’ll come visit you soon!”
“Please do,” Alec tells her with a grin. “I’ll be waiting.”
She beams back and waves enthusiastically as Cat leads her away.
That leaves him alone with Magnus, who’s also smiling, something gentle and fond on his face. “You’re good with her.”
Alec shrugs. “I’ve got practice — three younger siblings, remember?” The thought of Izzy and Jace brings an abrupt surge of hurt — they’d just left, so easily, as though he meant nothing more to them because he’d dared to save the lives of Downworlders — but he swallows it down.
Apparently, however, Magnus can read him well, despite the brevity of their in-person acquaintance, because he winces apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
It’s an expression of sympathy, not an apology, so Alec just shrugs. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“Of course.” Magnus is smiling again, and although Madzie’s gone, there’s still that warm affection in his eyes. “I owe it to you, after all — you broke me out of there, and hundreds of Downworlders besides.”
That makes sense, Alec supposes, but he still doesn’t understand— “How did you get enough Downworlders to cooperate for the frontal attack of the Institute?”
There’s a hint of something in Magnus’ smile, now — pride? — that turns it into a smirk. “Everyone in the Downworld knows Shadow, Alexander. A fair number have escaped thanks to you, and those who haven’t been caught know those who have. You’ve saved more of my people than I can count, and they recognise that. When I asked for volunteers to get you out, I knew I’d get a lot, but every single Downworlder present wanted to fight for you, infighting and inter-race rivalries be damned.”
For a moment, Alec simply blinks at him in stunned silence. “For me?”
Magnus’ smile is still half-smirk, but it softens into something warmer. “For Shadow, who saved so many. For Alec Lightwood, who betrayed family and people for our sake. For the man who refused to portal out with those last ten Downworlders because he knew he’d be tracked, and gave up his freedom for ours.”
Alec doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know what to think — the Downworld knows who he is, all that he is, his last name, and they fought for him like his parents and siblings refused to.
“But Cat’s right,” Magnus goes on when Alec says nothing. “You do need rest. You also need food, so—” he flicks his fingers, and an array of dishes appear in front of Alec. Despite the early hour — judging by the light, it can’t be past ten AM — there’re not only breakfast foods from all over the world but several more substantial-looking dishes Alec’s never had before. It’s far too much food for one person, or even for two, but Alec digs in with a will; he needs to regain the strength he’s lost thanks to captivity and starvation and Agony runes.
Magnus joins him, explaining what the dishes are that Alec doesn’t recognise, and they fall back into the easy cadence of conversation they learned in writing to each other through the journal. Magnus shares stories of the first time he had this or that dish, where it comes from, and some cultural tidbits — Alec knows he’s banned from Peru, so he’s curious as to how Magnus managed to obtain rocoto relleno from there; the spicy pepper burns his throat, but he’s always liked spice more than the Shadowhunters around him who’d rather have something bland and Western, so he eats it eagerly.
Eventually, Alec’s far too full to even think about eating more, and although his stomach might regret his indulgence later, he’s appreciating the feeling of having eaten enough. Sleep is pulling at him now, too; rune exhaustion doesn’t vanish with a few hours’ rest and a solid meal. He has enough experience with it to know that he won’t be able to use any runes for a solid twenty-four hours after this, and longer if he doesn’t get some rest.
“I’ll leave you to sleep,” Magnus tells him, perceptive of the tiredness Alec can usually hide so well. A wash of magic clears away the mess of food and summons a glass of water to leave by Alec’s bedside. The curtains close, fully blocking out the light from the window.
Alec’s asleep before Magnus shuts the door.
~
Imogen smiles at him, all teeth. “Tell us what you know.”
Alec shakes his head, refuses, but a stele lights up, and then there’s a burning in his shoulder that spreads like scattered starbursts of agony across his body, and he thinks the world whites out; he doesn’t know anything but pain, anything but the soul-deep ache that grows and grows and grows amidst fears and dreams and imaginings that tear into his heart with razor-tipped claws.
When he comes to, Imogen leans in closer. “Tell us, and it’ll all be over.”
Don’t, Alec tries to tell himself, but his lips don’t obey; he’s screaming inside, struggling not to speak, to protect the Downworlders that Imogen will kill, but the words come spilling out regardless. Places. Names. Everything Imogen needs.
She smiles and says in Magnus’ voice, “Wake up, Alec!”
Alec surges upright with a jolt, aching side protesting, and nearly slams his head into Magnus’.
“Alexander,” Magnus says, reaching out a hand toward his shoulder.
His shoulder. Alec flinches away, and Magnus’ hand falls to his side. “Alec, are you with me?”
Still silent — he can’t speak, can’t open his mouth, or he fears he’ll give everything away — Alec nods. His shoulder isn’t actually hurting, and while his side’s still injured, the Agony rune hasn’t been reactivated. It was a dream, only a dream. A nightmare, nothing more.
“You’re okay,” Magnus says softly, soothingly, somehow both a reassurance and an oath that he would make it so. “You’re safe here, Alexander, and I will not let them hurt you again.”
Alec relaxes into his voice, letting it wash away the last traces of Imogen’s. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Magnus replies immediately. “We’ve all got nightmares.”
Most of Magnus’ likely came at Alec’s people’s hands. “Still. It must be late” — the blinds don’t let enough light through to know the time, but Alec’s internal clock suggests he’s been asleep all day — “and you were probably asleep.”
Magnus shrugs in response. “My guest bed’s a bit less comfortable than this one, and I was lying awake when I heard you.”
Heard him screaming? Spilling all the Downworld’s secrets? Pleading with Imogen? Another thought hits Alec with all the force of a truck: “Wait, you mean this is your bed? You don’t need to sleep in the guest room; I don’t want to kick you out of your bed—”
A graceful wave of the hand. “It’s no trouble, darling. In all honesty, I’d likely have been awake anyway, guest bed or no.” Magnus’ smile reminds Alec of his earlier words. We’ve all got nightmares. Magnus has plenty of reason for them; the Downworld is fractured, on the verge of being hunted to extinction by the Clave.
“Still,” Alec says. “You shouldn’t need to leave me your room.”
Magnus dismisses that with a smile and a hand wave. “In any case, you’re probably hungry again. Midnight snack?”
As a matter of fact, Alec is hungry, so he agrees with a smile. Magnus summons up more food — a few of the dishes Alec particularly liked last time, including the rocoto relleno, along with a variety of new foods that Magnus explains with gusto. It’s all delicious, and the last vestiges of Alec’s nightmare drift away.
Magnus snaps away the last remains of the food when they’re done. “Tired?”
“Not really, actually,” Alec replies. “Sleeping all day has messed with my sleep schedule.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, either,” Magnus says, holding out a hand to help Alec up. It’s more reminiscent of an old-fashioned, courtly gesture than a way to get Alec to his feet; Alec is impossibly grateful for the small amount of dignity that affords him. He takes Magnus’ hand and heaves himself up, wincing as the pain in his side intensifies.
“Oh, I can help with that,” Magnus offers, blue wreathing his hands; at Alec’s nod, it encases his side, and the pain eases away. Alec doesn’t know if it’s fully healed or if Magnus’ magic is acting as a painkiller — probably the latter; injuries caused by seraph blades are notoriously hard for warlock magic to heal — but his shoulders relax as the ache ebbs.
Magnus directs him into an open space with a large table in the middle, chairs arranged around it and papers scattered across the top. Alec hesitates, but Magnus doesn’t stop him when he leans over to look at the papers; there’s a map of New York, the Institute in red, Downworlder hideouts in blue, lines and boxes in both colours indicating where it’s safe for Downworlders to go and where it isn’t. He recognises all the Institute’s patrol routes in bright scarlet — information he leaked as soon as he was sure he could safely do so.
Another paper has lists of names, presumably Downworlders, in one column, and then dates and times in the next — the label at the top of the sheet reads CHECK-INS, and Alec realises that the Downworlders are all making sure to check in at least once a day, so they know as soon as possible if anyone’s taken. There’s a pile of notes with MEETING MINUTES along the top; Alec glances through them, and they seem to be mostly arguments about supplies and refusals to concede to other groups’ requests, mixed in with dire warnings about the Clave — except for the last meeting, which ends with a consensus on rescuing Alec. The werewolf Alpha in that meeting is different from the one in the older papers; somebody named Theo has been replaced by Luke Garroway, who seems more cooperative than his predecessor.
Still, the Downworlders are obviously divided between themselves and terrified of the Clave’s next threat. Alec reads through the notes again; the old werewolf leader, Theo, was particularly unwilling to cooperate, and the faeries are (as always) isolationist. They can’t seem to work together long enough to form a coherent strategy to defend themselves, let alone fight back. He forgets for a moment where he is, lost in understanding and digesting the political situation, the Downworld’s forces, and the potential for resistance.
“We’re not very good at working together,” Magnus observes dryly at his shoulder, and Alec’s almost surprised he doesn’t jump at the sudden voice. “Nobody’s exactly trained in strategy, and nobody wants to listen to the other races above their own.”
Alec glances up at him, considering. “But you’ve got substantial forces. More Downworlders than the Clave knows about, for sure; with some preliminary battle training for everyone, you’d be able to overwhelm the Institute with sheer numbers.”
“If everyone worked together, yes,” Magnus agrees. “But that’s unlikely, and what about after that? Even with the New York Institute under our command, the Clave would simply send more Shadowhunters to fight us.”
“No, they couldn’t,” Alec replies. “The Downworld doesn’t know this, but the Clave is overstretched. There aren’t enough new Shadowhunters being born to keep up with the demon threat; between their insistence on fighting Downworlders, the lower birth rate of the last few years, and the loss of the Cup, our — their — numbers are dropping.” It’s odd to think of the Clave as a separate entity from himself, when he’s faked allegiance to it for so long, but it’s also a relief. “The Institute would be easy enough for us to fortify, and they could only get in through the permanent portal from Alicante; to overwhelm an Institute controlled by this many Downworlders when they’re in such a disadvantageous position, they’d need…” he pauses for a moment, calculating “…upwards of seven hundred troops. There aren’t seven hundred troops to be found.”
“It’s still a precarious position,” Magnus says slowly, but he’s clearly warming to the idea, light flaring to life in his eyes. “That won’t last forever; to have lasting peace, we’ll need to keep the Clave permanently out of New York, which means either blocking all portals from coming in — difficult and annoying, but possible — or defeating the Clave entirely, worldwide, which is harder, but if we succeed—”
“We could free Downworlders everywhere.” Alec’s grinning, ideas spinning almost too fast for him to follow; he’s always liked strategy, more than Izzy or Jace ever did, and he’s often spent hours planning out careful moves in his office that balance the Downworld’s needs and the necessary pretence of loyalty to the Clave. He’s always been alone while strategizing, though, and there’s a whole new thrill now that he’s talking with somebody else, somebody clearly as knowledgeable about strategy as he is. And now, he’s not trying to balance what he thinks with what he must do; he’s fighting for something that he believes in far more than the Clave, planning for a concrete future he actually wants. It’s freeing.
“We’d need worldwide support,” Magnus points out. “Right now, I’ve got some communication with other warlocks, but it’s nowhere near enough to actually form a global movement to take on the Clave.”
The words — a global movement to take on the Clave — send shivers of something between excitement and terror down Alec’s spine. “But it’s possible. And if we take New York, we’ll have a precedent, which will serve to bring more of them to our cause.”
“It’s possible. Our numbers are superior; if we work together—”
“—and if we can take down all the Institutes at once—”
“—even if we can’t take Idris itself—”
“—we’ll be able to stop them from hunting Downworlders.” The light in Magnus’ eyes is echoed in Alec’s soul, and he suddenly feels as if he could take on the world and more with Magnus at his side. This is hard — this is almost impossible — but it’s also necessary, and Alec had always prided himself on his ability to do what needs doing. “Demons are obviously a problem — that’s why Shadowhunters were created, after all — but between rebel Shadowhunters and Downworlders willing to do patrols, I think a permanent solution could be found.”
Magnus beams at him, lit up from within like a beacon, like the angels in textbooks. “First, we take New York.”
Alec pulls a blank piece of paper forward, and Magnus snaps up a pencil. The plans of the Institute are easy enough for him to recall and draw out; he can mark every exit, every camera, and every hub of activity, thanks to his dual life as Shadow and Institute Head. He knows where they can attack and where they should avoid, and he marks them all on the map in red pen.
Leaning over his shoulder, Magnus points to a spot, asks a question, and Alec explains. It should’ve been odd, planning an attack on the building he’s guarded all his life, but instead, it feels right: he has hated the Clave far longer than he ever loved it, and he’s been trapped into helping them for so long, unable to leave or fight back in any way except as Shadow. Now, he can finally do something about it, and sitting at Magnus’ table with papers scattered around him in a starburst of plans and ideas, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so free.
~
“This is incredible, Alexander,” Magnus breathes, at last, eyes fixed on Alec, letting a pen fall to the table. The plans are as complete as they can be without talking to the other Downworld leaders; by presenting them with something as fully fleshed-out as this, Magnus is hopeful they can convince them to help, especially with a Shadowhunter’s insider knowledge on their side. “We can — we can actually do this.”
“I should hope so — we’ve thought it through enough,” Alec returns, teasingly, but he feels the same way: a mixture of exhilaration and impossible hope that makes all their dreams close enough to touch, so close he can scarcely believe it.
Magnus huffs out a you know what I meant and pulls Alec up to his feet. “Dance with me?”
He tugs Alec out into the living room without waiting for a reply, music emanating from somewhere in the room. It’s dark outside, New York lights outshining the stars but not the moon, the lamps on the table spreading illumination into the living room in slants of gold. “I don’t know how to dance,” Alec protests, but weakly, because Magnus is looking at him like that, visible even through the darkness of the room, and he doesn’t know if he could ever say no to him.
“Then I’ll teach you,” Magnus returns, and guides Alec’s steps to the simple beat of the music. Alec’s not exactly a dancer, but he is a Shadowhunter; he knows how to use his body, and he’s at ease here, and the music seeps into his bones as he follows Magnus’ lead.
He spent a week in a cell, certain that he would not last long, and now he is here, free, and in Magnus’ arms. There’s a breathless incredulity blending with a determined joy in his chest, golden hope glowing through him, glowing in Magnus’ eyes.
The dancing devolves into quiet swaying on the spot. Alec’s wordless, looking at Magnus, brilliant and beautiful and full of life, with a heart that has suffered so much but is still brighter than the moon outside the window. He doesn’t know what to do with the feeling in his chest, warm and heavy yet light at the same time, but he knows he loves Magnus, and the look in Magnus’ eyes whispers that it’s returned.
Despite all the planning they’ve done, all the dreams they share, the future is murky; something will go wrong, as it always does, and they’ll be fighting for their lives sooner or later. Success is possible but not probable. There are demons in Alec’s head in the red-black shades of the Agony rune; Maryse, Imogen, and the Clave are strong and stand together against them. But between Alec’s strategy and knowledge, Magnus’ vision and power, and the Downworld’s hidden strength, they have at least a chance, and that is enough — that is everything.
Alec leans in to kiss Magnus’ smiling lips, and somehow, impossibly, all is right with the world.
#fic#my fic#tsc#tmi#magnus bane#alec lightwood#malec#magnus x alec#alec lightwood bane#magnus lightwood bane#alec x magnus#shrb2022#fanart#rescue#captivity
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AO3 Wrapped (Writer Version)
Nobody tagged me but I'm tagging myself ;)
Works Published: 42
Word Count: 243,075
Hits: 36,075
Bookmarks: 438
Most Popular by Kudos: Wooing the Hale out of Derek (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Teen)
Most Hits: Idris Tour Sweethearts (Malec, Shadowhunters / Pokémon Fusion, General)
Longest: Idris Tour Sweethearts (Malec, Shadowhunters / Pokémon Fusion, General) but if you only take into account fics posted AND completed in 2022 then Something in the Water (calling my name) (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Teen)
Shortest: I've got a bunch of 1k ands even 500 words ficlet so I'll just pick the shortest outside of these parameters x) Fancy some roller coasters? (Alex Rider, General)
Most Comments: Idris Tour Sweethearts (Malec, Shadowhunters / Pokémon Fusion, General) and if you don't take into account the WIP from like 2021 that I completed in 2022... String of pearls and prompts (Ficlet collection, Shadowhunters CNTW)
Fic that made me cry: A lover's lament (Yalex, Alex Rider, Teen), the ending is very emotional.
Fic that made me smile: A million stars trapped in glass (Yalex, Alex Rider, Teen), I got fond memories of London that I was happy to revisit for this fic.
Gifts
Since a couple of those were parts of events and collabs, I'll save them for later haha! I gifted 7 works and 1 ficlet this year.
Kind Hearts and Bright Souls (Malec, Shadowhunters, Teen) for my darling @abby0007 as part of a friendly gift exchange to enjoy some mystery in winter!
Wrong place, wrong time (Yalex, Alex Rider, Explicit) for @icebluecyanide who was such a sweetheart coming to my rescue while I was writing!
Wanted Men (Yalex, Alex Rider, Mature) that I gifted to the person who unknowingly prompted me!
Collaborations: Eyes on Fire (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Teen) for the Sterek Reverse Bang with @geekmom13 who is at the origin of the plot with their badass gifset!
Events: The aforementioned StRB, but prior to this collaboration I had alson taken part in the Sterek Big Bang with The Cure (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Mature). Oh! and I made art for @1lostone!
I was lucky enough to receive a bid from @EvanesDust in Fandom Trumps Hate and wrote a lovely piece Talk shit, get kissed (Sterek, Teen Wolf, General).
Wooing the Hale out of Derek (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Teen) was actually part of a friendly Valentine's Day contest!
Something in the Water (calling my name) (Sterek, Teen Wolf, Teen) was a Mermay fic ;)
Fancy some roller coasters? (Alex Rider, General) was created for the Alex Rider Secret Santa.
I wrote no less than 30 Yalex (Alex Rider) ficlets (1k each) for my Smutember series.
And briefly attempted an ambitious series for Alex Rider Ship Week.
Coming in 2023
I'd really like to complete the ambitious series mentioned above, as well as TMI:Skyrim (Malec, Shadowhunters x Skyrim Fusion, Mature).
I think I might join in the Merlin Bingo as well, and I do have a prompt list for Femslash February...
Tagging: @aceon-ice, @sterekxhale, @polarnacht1, @kelkblr, @wildelydawn, @countessrivers and anyone else who wants to join in!
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(right from the start you would be) My Light in The Dark
Pairing: Malec
Rating: M
Summary: What if Magnus couldn’t forgive Alec for breaking his heart after the deal with Asmodeus?
What if Magnus left New York and never looked back?
What if Clary never got her memories back?
What if the parabatai duo was so broken for their lost loves, they couldn’t function anymore?
What if broken hearts led to broken souls?
What if one left and the other disappeared?
What if Magnus came back to a New York where Alec Lightwood vanished a century ago?
What if
What if
What if
Or, Second chances might take longer.
But they always seem to find their way back to each other.
This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2022: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver
Art by the lovely @hopesilverheart
Chapter 6 - All I want to do (Is come running home to you)
||| Then |||
“But what you and Magnus have is real. If anyone can make it work, it’s you two.”
“There’s nothing you two can’t work out.”
The years blurred together.
After leaving his loft in New York, Magnus moved to his penthouse in Paris. He spent the first years reacquainting himself, desperately needing to feel his magic and the world around him again. Losing what was so fundamental for him, then regaining it back, left him unbalanced. When he felt strong enough, he moved again.
Magnus never stayed at the same place for long. He refused any new request to become a High Warlock wherever he was, focusing solely on helping Downworlders and mundanes alike. This time, he really tried to keep away from Shadowhunter business and get involved with them.
But one could only keep away for so long. The new generation of Nephilim seemed resolute to make things better and mend their relationship with the Downworld – which was proved true by the signature of the New Accords.
Maybe the Shadow World could finally see some peace.
Magnus also started teaching Madzie. Her and Cat left New York, and with time, Madzie stopped asking about Alec. If it was because Cat talked to her or her own understanding of the whole thing, he didn’t know. He didn’t try to figure it out either. It was a relief to not have a constant reminder of his broken relationship with the Shadowhunter.
Sometimes, Magnus considered putting the omamori charm into his box of memories alongside all the trinkets of past lovers and significant people in his life.
But it never felt right.
Somehow, it didn’t belong there.
No matter how many times he opened the box and tried to put it there, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
He didn’t.
He would always banish it back to his New York loft and leave it there as another piece of décor.
That wasn’t the only shadow reminiscent of his past with Alec. During the first decades, Magnus tried his best to hide his heartbreak with parties, a lot of alcohol and sex. At first, only with women. Then, with men who were smaller or slender. Blondies, redheads, colorful hair. Even a bald guy once or twice. Green eyes, dark eyes, brown eyes, red eyes.
Never taller men. Never men with broad shoulders or muscled back.
Never brunettes with hazel eyes.
Then, seventy years later or so, as if a switch was flipped, Magnus became obsessed with them. Especially in times when he started imagining Alec marrying some perfect Shadowhunter and having kids, or Alec killed by a demon somewhere, Magnus would miss him even more, the heartache on a soul-deep level.
He then would look for the first tall, dark and handsome man in clubs, sex dungeons or parties, get really drunk, and proceed to lose himself in another one-night stand.
(Once he accidentally called his partner for the night ‘Alec’, earning a temporary hex from the man.)
Fortunately, before he lost his sanity, a good distraction happened.
Well, not exactly good. But a distraction nonetheless.
It was when the ley lines began to go haywire everywhere, and demons in a true Apocalypse-fashion started to pour out from various hell realms.
Magnus was promptly on the front line to help deal with the situation.
He fought and sealed rifts almost daily for more than ten years.
When things seemed to calm down for a bit and he thought he would finally get a few days of rest, a fire message came to him.
A summons from the Spiral Labyrinth. By the cryptic message, they had some kind of special – and very urgent – mission for him.
Without much choice, he changed his clothes and opened a portal, hoping it wouldn’t take much time and he could finally take a vacation somewhere with a lot of sun and water.
He had a good feeling about it.
||| Now |||
Alec was conflicted.
Magnus was about to leave and go back to the world where his home had once been.
After that kiss, they had spent more and more time together. They talked a lot more, finally discussed the big elephant in the room.
They argued, they cried.
A lot of sparkles flew from both sides.
It was terrifying.
It was cathartic.
It was as if a whole century hadn’t passed between them.
They were different people, but they were also the same. And their feelings for each other had never disappeared, they were only buried.
But then, Magnus’ departure knocked on their door.
And Alec… Alec didn’t know what to do.
He knew that if Magnus crossed that portal, if he left that realm… They would never see each other again.
Alec had lost the love of his life twice. He wouldn’t recover from a third time.
However, he couldn’t leave the Blue Hidden. They needed him to protect their home. As much as things had changed during the last decades, they were still peaceful people who had never held a single weapon in their entire lives. How would they defend themselves against demons?
“They have us.” A voice stated and Alec groaned.
“I’ve already told you to stay away from my mind!”
Yrviss just grinned, making herself comfortable beside him on the large bench at his front porch. Momo sat on his other side, and Magi leaned back against the wooden railing.
“You trained us well, we don’t need you anymore, so shoo.” Yrviss waved her hand, her scales catching the strong afternoon sunlight.
“Wow, I feel so loved right now,” Alec drily pointed out.
“But you are,” Momo poked at his side. “And that’s why you should be with the one who loves you the most.”
“I don’t even know if he wants that.” Alec sighed. Meddling pupils. He should’ve suspected they would quickly figure out what Magnus meant to Alec. Izzy would be proud.
“He carries your memento.” Magi commented nonchalantly, but Alec looked at them with a confused expression. “It looked like an omamori. Red and gold. He would take it out from his pocket, looking at it with a wistful expression, and then put it back.”
“How do you know it’s mine?” Alec squinted an eye, though the blush on his cheeks was unmistakably.
Magi just shrugged. “Energy. Your aura. Love. The omamori was so filled with it, it was vibrating.”
Alec felt his heart give a hard thud.
After all this time…
Could he dare hope?
Magnus said he hadn’t forgiven him yet, but if Alec tried harder, maybe he would one day?
Relationships take effort.
Horribly true.
It was a never-ending process.
But…
He looked at his pupils. His children.
“We promise to go visit you if you come visit us too.” Momo said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.
Yrviss and Magi nodded, smiling softly at him.
They had grown up so well.
“I’m proud of you.”
I love you all.
They knew.
And Alec knew they loved him back just as much.
~*~
Magnus was nervous.
He didn’t have any connections to that place, so why was he hesitant to leave it? The veil would soon be down and the portal to his world was going to open, and he should be relieved.
Yet, it was as if half of him was being left behind.
And well… Who was he trying to fool besides himself?
He didn’t expect to connect so effortlessly with Alec again.
He had never stopped loving him, and it was clear that it was the same for Alec.
But Magnus was still afraid to give it a new chance just to end up being disappointed again. What if they were never meant to work out? He had been hurt so many times by past lovers, and he truly believed it was going to be different with Alec.
It was.
And it could be again if they were just more honest with each other.
If they didn’t try to fix the other when a new issue arose.
If they…
A sudden change in the air caught Magnus’ attention, and soon enough, a portal opened before him.
That was it, then?
His job with the Blue Hidden was done.
He could go home and demand the vacation he so desired. Or maybe go and aid a helpless client. Perhaps close another rift and destroy more demons.
Drink. He definitely needed a strong drink to forget Ale–
“Magnus!”
Magnus swirled around, heart in his throat, and was met with an Alec all dressed up and carrying a big bag.
“What?” He asked in a small voice, not daring to believe his eyes. Magnus had decided to leave quietly, refusing to even say goodbye to Alec in fear to make some stupid decision, like staying. But if he was understanding it right, did Alec want to…?
“Can I…” Alec approached him with slow but decisive steps. His smile was small and shy, but oh… it carried so much tenderness and tentative hope. “Can I come with you?”
“Isn’t this your home? Are you okay with it?” Despite the insecurity his voice clearly carried, Magnus’ heart was stuttering inside his chest.
Was he ready?
After a century, all that resentment and pain and heartbreak… Could it be forgiven?
“My home is you, Magnus. That hasn’t changed either.”
Looking at Alec’s eyes, the sincerity, the desperation, the pure and ever-growing love, Magnus was a gone man.
“Stupid, stupid boy.” Achingly slow, he cupped Alec’s neck, his fingers gently tugging the strands of hair on his nape. Then, almost reverently, Magnus whispered. “My archer boy who never misses.”
Bringing him closer, they sealed their lips and kissed the heartbreak away.
It was a new hello and a I miss you.
A beginning and a continuation.
A rebirth and repetition.
A love you.
Holding each other’s hands, they entered the portal back to their world.
To start their eternity.
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Hi! You can find me as "MysticDodo" on A03, where I currently have a variety of fanfiction posted, including Puzzleshipping, Malec, Viktuuri and Wilmon.
I've been writing fanfiction on and off for a good 17 years (and I feel so old, saying that!).
My current WIPs are mostly Young Royals fanfics, though I also have a YOI modern Dirty Dancing AU as well.
Status of the fanfics as of September 2022:
Yuri On Ice;
Dance With Me; my modern AU Dirty Dancing remake. It has some major differences from the original 1987 movie (such as no abortion plotline, and less focus on class differences) but focuses more on mental health. Our sweet Yuuri has canonical anxiety, and I headcanon some form of eating disorder, whereas Viktor seems to experience symptoms of depression. I've always adored Dirty Dancing and have wanted to do a YOI DD merging for ages. I currently have around 40k written for it, but it has taken a back burn since I was kidnapped by Young Royals...
Young Royals;
as if it were yesterday - is my main WIP. The day that Erik dies, Simon becomes stuck in a 48 hour time loop.
I have a majority written for the next chapter, as well as later scenes, but it's slow going. It's not abandoned and will be updated as soon as the last part of chapter 4 stops being a pain in my backside... The feedback for this project blows me away and I'm so thankful for all of the comments, kudos and bookmarks! Looking forward to seeing the cries of shock that a later chapter will cause, hehehe!
I also have four currently unnamed Wilmon fics I'm writing. Two are explicit (and definitely weren't supposed to turn into multichapter stories but...) while the third and forth has no smut but a a large dose of hurt/comfort.
Smut 1: about 40% complete
- Third year AU where Wilhelm and Simon decide to become friends with benefits.
Smut 2: about 30% complete
- a season 2 story where our boys find it hard to stay away from each other. (Slightly inspired by the delicious Eyeliner by Mulberrybush97, as well as my weakness for Omar in eyeliner....)
Hurt/Comfort 1: about 75% complete.
- an end of season 1 and beginning of season 2 snapshot into physical affection.
Hurt/Comfort 2: about 50% complete
- a season 2 story about opening up to the ones you love, but also to yourself.
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Last Seen Blogs
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Landscape photography- pictures of my reality
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She loves me, she loves me not.