#[ i might do this as well for warlocks and shadowhunters themselves ]

[bookishjules]

Hi hi!!!! I saw your sizzy HCs and I would love it if you did TMI gang HCs for the future when they have kids and all💗 How do they all interact with their kids/each other’s kids? That ask about Jace’s kids made me laugh I feel like his kids would have a jar for him to put money in whenever he’s too cocky, kinda like New Girl with Schmidt

simon and izzy are the go-to babysitter couple of the bunch for sure, given that they aren't running an institute or, you know, the entire clave. they're also the most likely to have a movie or game night, which the kids absolutely love

because the cousins span over a decade in ages, there seems to always be a baby to hold, and clary is always the first one to reach for them (followed by alec)

jace is stricter as a father than might be expected. not in a harsh way, but in a protective way. in a 'i want you to learn how best protect yourself and your family' way. he's definitely a teacher, in a very physical way, and loves spending time in the training room with his kids and niblings (not that this makes him any more mature or less ridiculous at his core hehe)

creativity and expression are very well supported by all members of the tmi gang, and their children develop a good amount of confidence when it comes to being themselves and not necessarily folding into shadowhunter (or warlock) norms

magnus loves taking the kids on adventures and showing them things they might never have gotten to see if they didn't have a very powerful warlock for an uncle, but he is also very protective, moreso than some of the other parents. he's seen too many people die to knowingly bear witness to human/shadowhunter recklessness in these kids he cares so much for

alec is the first one to suggest they let rafe go out on patrol, not without alec ofc. that first patrol is a fun one. jace is there too. he's muchhh less strict with his niblings than he is with his own kids, and he tends to treat them much more like how he treats kit. hence the fun hehe rafe has a blast, and the whole time alec's anxiety is through the roof.

all the cousins are scared of izzy's cooking. even if she's gotten better as the years have gone on, their parents have ingrained in them too much fear for the food she makes not to be wary when she holds out a wooden spoon with a questionable substance on it. usually the kids ask for pizza. or a delivery of chinese food (like parents like kids hehe)

[foodsies4me]

hello so I just read all the All Was Golden fics, and one thing that I found really interesting but that wasn’t explained (unless I rlly missed smth) was the shadowhunter naming conventions??? Like miss/mister being insulting, or the use of nicknames by ppl they know well. If you’ve already answered this sorry for missing it, but I found it really really interesting and wanted to ask, because a lot of the other conventions you made for warlocks/vampires etc were really well incorporated and rlly enhances the different cultures of the different groups imo.

Hello!

You’re right that’s something that hasn’t been explained yet! (it has been briefly mentioned in one of the AU’s in Cat’s POV, but that’s another discussion). The naming thing is going to be explained during Alec’s headship ceremony, or at least part of it when Max is called Maxwell by both of his parents. (We should also get an answer to the whole head on the back of the head thing vampires do if I manage to fit that in because that’s also something that hasn’t been explained yet.)

Now, I’m sorry for how long this ramble is going to be.

For a quick rundown of the naming thing - the history behind it is that the whole Mister and Miss/Mrs. thing started in Idriss when the shadowhunters on the Council wanted to distinguish themselves from the « normal » shadowhunters. They started to pick up those titles, but given as the Clave higher-ups aren’t known for doing a lot of shadowhunting, the shadowhunters in the institutes quickly started to take on the title Shadowhunter as a counter reaction because that’s what they are. This quickly spread and started to get the connotation of « we’re the real shadowhunters because we actually risk our lives », which is how the title Mister and Miss/Mrs. slowly took on a more negative meaning, e.g you aren’t a shadowhunter or you aren’t fit to be a shadowhunter/don’t deserve your runes.

The negative meaning has spread so much that some shadowhunters even refuse to refer to non-shadowhunter nephilim with the title, preferring to call them by their profession out of respect.

Then, while less insulting it’s usual the polite thing to do to refer fellow shadowhunters by their highest position, e.g. a Head of Institute will be called by that title and not shadowhunter, while a recruit will be called by the title shadowhunter and not recruit. Calling someone by a lower title than what they are is another insult, a warning in a certain sense, but not as much of one as Mister and so on is.

Now, titles aren’t the only thing happening with shadowhunter names. (Hence why Alec called them complicated.) The name you choose also denotes how familiar/friendly you are with someone. But in short:

nicknames are for family and close friends. Alec, Max etc. are limited to friends and using a nickname when you don’t have a close bond can be again seen as insulting or patronizing.

first names are for friends, it’s still something that shows a very close bond with someone and not something you’d use without being told you can otherwise it’s, once more, insulting and patronizing (Magnus is going to have a field day with this one because while his whole body, magic and soul recoils at the thought of calling Maryse Lightwood by a title such as Mrs., calling her by her first name to piss her off is 100% something he’s willing to do.)

First name + last name or simply last name - formal way of addressing a shadowhunter before the whole Mister, Miss/Mrs. thing became a thing, with the first and last name being slightly more formal. It’s still a polite way to refer to someone and something a lot of shadowhunters do. That said, if someone you’re normally in a more familiar basis with refers to you as such it can be for two reasons: - if there’s a hierarchy difference it might be to keep things professional during work hours.

- or it can be a way to scold someone either jokingly or not.

First name + any middle names + last names: definitely scolding territory but usually it’s on the humorous side of scolding because of how long shadowhunter names can get.

Calling solely by one of their middle names if they have one or by their father’s/mother’s/ another renowned family member’s name can be either a compliment or an insult depending on the legacy that person left behind.

On the subject of nicknames, you also have certain shadowhunters who prefer to go by their nickname rather than their full name : Max, Steph, Alec etc. Where the lines of « is it a friend thing or not » becomes a bit more hard to sparse, but again given first names are a friend thing in general it doesn’t create that much of a problem. Also on the topic of nicknames: matching nicknames! Matching nicknames are for the closest of friends, hence why Max was excited about calling Magnus « Mags » despite how godawful the nickname is because it fits with Madz and Max.

I think that sums up the main things about the shadowhunter names. (I would have written it in the fic sooner but somehow I ended up with writer’s block each time I tried so clearly the muse has decided that explanation will wait along with the hand-head vampire thing and the Alec hunting the Circlz members in his downtime thing)

Thanks for asking!

[alexanderlightweight]

i love when Alec is just being himself and Magnus is over in the corner being a horny mess, so i was wondering if you could write something with that?

thank you for the lovely prompt! it's set in feral sweetness, like honeycomb

here we go, i hope you enjoy this

lumine

-

Magnus is about to ask Alexander out, officially this time rather than the impromptu visits Magnus has been making to his very busy shadowhunter. Magnus intends to introduce Alexander to his loft, so that his darling can come visit him as well, but so far there’s never been a time that Alexander can actually leave the Institute for long enough.

Just as he’s about to speak, fingers already reaching out so he can press them against Alexander’s own, Alexander’s second arrives.

“Commander—” Mirai says, interrupting the conversation between Alexander and himself and Magnus bites back a scowl as he allows Alexander to be distracted. Alexander barely looks at his second, just makes a hum in reply, “I’m going to request that you quell your first instinct.”

“What are you talking about?” Alexander asks, voice soft and eyes warm from where he’s still staring into Magnus’ own gaze. “My instincts are always accurate.”

This is true.

Magnus has seen the beauty of Alexander’s incredible instincts several times now — and he’s eager hungry to see more.

“Commander Lightwood—” a voice interjects between them all and Alexander goes still, and the warmth of his eyes fades until they’re two dark chips of cold malice. “I need a mo—”

The speaker doesn’t get the chance to say another word.

Alexander is up and out of his chair, blurring so fast that only Magnus’ unglamoured eyes can keep track of him. The intruder crashes into the wall of the greenhouse, Alexander’s hand on his throat as he holds them up, feet dangling from the ground and an arrow in his left hand, adamas tip pressed to the fourth and fifth ribs.

“Why don’t I talk first, before you start your business.” Alexander murmurs and Magnus can hear it, the words echoing with threat no matter how softly they’re spoken.

There’s a snort next to him and Magnus flicks his gaze over to see Mirai watching with a smirk, Alexander’s head of security and a third nephilim all watching with identical looks of satisfaction.

It is suddenly very clear to Magnus that this was the expected result, and the request was merely a way to create plausible deniability.

“An envoy from the clave. Victor Aldertree, the commander found out that he’s been supplying yinfen to the shadowhunters injured on his watch. Since he sends those shadowhunters out to Institutes it quickly became a large problem. When several came here already addicted, it caused some… difficulties.”

Magnus is incredibly impressed by Alexander’s restraint, and he refreshes his drink with a little sigh of delight. This is going to be quite the show and Magnus is going to need a cool beverage to survive, “well, I’m certainly not going to interfere. I know how the clave feels about warlocks involving themselves without direct permission.”

Magnus is suddenly being given a considering looks from all three shadowhunters and he smirks, because he’s quickly finding the way to gain the support of Alexander’s hunters.

Not that he needs it… but it does help.

—

Magnus clears the blood from the greenhouse floor with a snap of his fingers, ignoring Alexander’s protests. He has to do something with the sudden rush of lustful energy powering his magic and he might as well endear himself at the same time.

“I can handle a bit of tidying up; I know my way around bloodstains quite well.”  Magnus winks as he says it and it earns him the pleasure of watching Alexander’s pupils dilate as his eyes focus on him. It’s gratifying, because Magnus only grew hungrier watching Alexander hold Aldertree down and pull answers from him, activating the man’s iratze halfway to start again.

“I’m sure you do.” Alexander murmurs, eying Magnus appreciatively and Magnus internally preens, smug with the worship in his shadowhunter’s gaze.

“Speaking of bloodstains darling, I’m rather good with ichor as well. Perhaps you could come by some time after patrol, allow me to offer my services.”

Alexander frowns, looking confused and a little startled.

“You want to do my laundry?”

That wasn’t what Magnus meant, not quite. However, he’s quite aware that this is quite new to Alexander. That much has been made clear by his polite but still hovering shadowhunters.

They trust their leader, but they don’t trust Magnus.

So, it’s with a softer smile that Magnus reminds himself to be a little less coy and he reaches out, using magic to straighten and clean Alexander’s collar.

“I’d like to have an excuse to get you out of your clothes, darling. I’d happily do laundry if that’s what it takes.” Magnus smirks, because his bluntness has apparently stunned Alexander, his shadowhunter’s eyes widening.

There are still specks of blood on Alexander’s cheeks still and Magnus cups his jaw, using his thumb to wipe them away with magic, admiring the light blush left after his touch.

“I have a patrol tonight—” Alexander says, voice low and hoarse and his lips brushing Magnus’ thumb. “I could come by after.”

“Aren’t you resourceful.” Magnus teases and then, because he wants to be very clear about his intentions, he steps close and presses his lips to Alexander’s ear. “Make sure your hunters know not to expect you until your next shift.”

His boy — because Alexander is looking at him the devotion that can only mean he’s Magnus — nods. There’s a moment of silence and then Alexander smirks against Magnus’ thumb.

“I’m not in the habit of letting ichor get on my clothes without a very good reason, Magnus.  It would have been a long time before I’d shown up asking for your help.”

Magnus is so startled by Alexander’s dry, confident humor that he lets out a titter, a sound that equally startled Alexander.  His boy grins, a softness to his mouth as he leans forward and boldly — his boy is bold now that he knows it’s allowed — presses his mouth to Magnus’.

It’s such a delightful surprise that Magnus internally curses himself even as he groans into the kiss. If he had been a little less flirtatious and a little more forward, it seems he could have claimed Alexander as his even sooner.  It’s a delightful find and Magnus wraps his arms around Alexander and sighs as Alexander carefully, almost chastely nips his mouth.

Magnus encourages it with a hum, mouth still closed as he lets Alexander’s tug at his lip before his boy presses small, almost comforting kisses to where he bit.

It’s the most chaste first kiss Magnus has had in decades and yet it fills him with a passion he knows he can’t unleash quite yet.

“You’re making it very hard not to change the very turns of the universe to make it dawn more quickly.”

“If you do that,” Alexander murmurs against his mouth, “then I’ll be behind on my paperwork.”

“Well, we can’t have that happening. I suppose you’ll simply need to give me a few more kisses to tide me over.”

Alexander laughs, a gentle huff and then he kisses him again. Magnus tightens his grip on his boy’s hips — wanting to leave a gift of his own — and from the needy gasp against his mouth, it’s well received. 

[lurafita]

Piece of dialoge that I would put in a reverse Malec au

As the title states, this is basically me writing down a kinda scene that's swimming around in my head.

it is definitely a story I want to write, but I'm not sure about my ability to write it. However, this one scene, though not fleshed out and pretty much just dialoge at the moment, made me want to type it up and share it with people who might enjoy it. Pairing: Magnus/Alec Lots of friendships and some background pairings that aren't depicted in this scene. Reverse!verse with Shadowhunter!Magnus and Warlock!Alec (as well as other known downworlders being shadowhunters and shadowhunters being downworlders.) I don't think any content warnings apply, as it is really just a scene with dialoge between Alec and Magnus, in which Magnus does most of the talking. Its main purpose is to portray the type of Shadowhunter I believe Magnus would be.

Alec: “You confuse me.”

Magnus, flirting: “In a good way, I hope.”

Alec, agitated: “You say you want to work your way up to a position of power in Idris. Become Inquisitor or Consul one day. Yet you act uncaring about the risk to your life that every new mission poses, and spit in the face of almost all of the Clave’s rules and regulations. I have lived for centuries, and in that time I have met many of your kind. You are… you confuse me.”

Magnus, smiling but contemplative: “I like being a Shadowhunter. Fighting against the forces of evil, protecting those that can’t protect themselves, helping those who need it. Working and training with Raphael and Catharina and Dot and Ragnor. Teaching Simon and watching him grow into his talents, though if you tell him I said that I will deny it. I truly, honestly, love these parts of my life. But I’m not blind to the Clave’s - and Shadowhunters’ as a whole, I guess - many shortcomings and failings. The Clave, our teachings and philosophies are far from perfect, and some are downright unjust. They are so very stuck in their ways and stagnant about the law, they carry prejudice and bigotry at their very center.

"Even after the circle, even after the uprising and the many little and big changes this whole world has gone through, Shadowhunters appear almost allergic to change. Non-heterosexual relationships still are discouraged and looked down upon by many, especially those of higher standings. Relationships with downworlders that aren’t purely professional are just one step above being forbidden, and if it weren’t for the accords, I have no doubt that the Clave would try to imprison anyone who engages in those. "I want to change this. As much as I can. But I won’t do it by playing by the very rules I wish to overthrow. I’m the son of a traitor, but I’m loyal to our mission. I’m openly bisexual, but I’m the best of my generation. I’m friends with more downworlders than most members of the Clave have met in their lifetime and have even dated some of them, and me and my team are still the ones other institutes call upon when they need back up.

"I don’t care about the obstacles the Clave will try to put into my way, or how much they turn up their noses. I will rise up the ranks one day and earn a position that enables me to make things better for the next generation, both Shadowhunters and Downworlders. And I will do it wearing fancy clothes and glittery make-up, proudly proclaiming any relationships I may have as loudly as I need to. I will prove to them that our world needs to change, and that it won’t collapse because a woman is leading an institute without a husband by her side, or because a male Shadowhunter is in a relationship with a male Downworlder. And while I may act a bit blasé about the dangers of my job, I’m not naive to the reason as to why many Shadowhunters die young. "But by the angel, as long as I live, I will walk this path towards change, and I won’t compromise who I am as I walk it.”

Then Alec looking at Magnus a little starstruck and awed.

And Magnus suddenly being a little uncomfortable going: “Phew, that was a lot of far too serious talk. What say you we go out for a drink? I know a great club in the city!”

[inkognito97]

If today was your last day

Part 1: Jakarta

„So… could you please tell me again, why exactly we are here?“ Alexander Gideon Lightwood was usually not somebody, who quickly felt uneasy. But right now… he was.

He was barely able to follow his husband, who appeared to be frantically searching for something.  Alec wasn’t sure what this was about. In fact, he had believed that his partner and he could finally – after days of work, cleaning up the chaos in New York and duties as head of the institute or in Magnus case, being the High Warlock of Brooklyn – spend some quality time together. He had imagined them cooking something together, eating on the balcony of Magnus’ loft and afterwards some cuddling on the couch while watching one of the many movies that Magnus just seemed to adore. And of course, he had imagined them kissing. A lot.

But sadly, his imagination was just that, imagined. The reality was quite different.

As soon as the raven-haired Shadowhunter hat entered the apartment, his husband had been all over him, sadly not in the preferred way. Alec could feel his cheeks redden after this particular thought.

No, the warlock had spoken about something he needed a lot of help with, magical help, he had added and clarified, as Alec had offered him his. So no big deal, Magnus just needed the aid of another warlock, or so Alec thought. But yet again, he was corrected by fate or perhaps the angels themselves.

Apparently it wasn’t enough to ask any particular warlock for his assistance and apparently neither Lorenzo’s nor Cat’s magic was enough for the high warlock. He was searching for something else, or rather, someone else, which was probably the reason, why they were now here, at the other side of the globe. Not that the raven-haired man minded travelling with his beloved warlock, but he most certainly preferred, other places, which were less... dirty. Not to mention all the stacks and piles of junk and trash that were literally scattered everywhere. There was barely enough ground uncovered to set foot onto.

“We are here,” Magnus began slowly, his eyes scanning their surroundings, while his reddish magic warped around his fingers, most likely guiding him and showing him the way, “because I am looking for someone important.”

Alec grimaced. This was not a nice place to be. They where... well, he wasn’t quite sure, where exactly they were. What he knew was, that the people who lived here, were very, very poor. A lot of them obviously lived on the streets. Those people, who were more fortunate, lived in barracks, if they could even be called that. Some of the dwellings were barely standing up. There was also no space between them. One dwelling was built next to the other and more often than not, the single room was cramped with people. Not to mention that the people had a railroad right in front of their doors or entrances. A train could drive by every minute and the Shadowhunter was sure, if the people didn’t move their belongings fast enough, a lot of things would be lost and squished. It was terrible.

“And who might that be?” he asked for clarification, even though it was mostly to get his mind off of the misery that surrounded them. He felt for the people, he truly did and he wished that they could do something... but helping was beyond his abilities.

Alec had always thought that the slums and ghettos in New York were bad, but they paled in contrast to what the people had to go through here. All the dirt, the sick and hungry looking humans, who were barely more than skin and bones... It broke his heart, especially since he knew that glamour and richness would not be far away from this part of the town.

“Everything in good time, Alexander,” Magnus was as cryptic as ever. It was one of the only things that made the Shadowhunter crazy, but not in a good way.

“Well, then could you at least be a little bit more specific about our whereabouts?”

Magnus sighed and his shoulders slumped. He let his hands sink a little bit, before he finally turned around to his companion. “We are in the northern parts of Jakarta, in one of the poorer and dirtier places, if you need to know. I grew up somewhere around here.”

“Oh”, was all that came to the man’s mind. He knew that Magnus’ origin had been Indonesia, but to actually see the town, or rather, the province where he was born... that was something entirely different. Even though it was most likely, that things had looked and been quite different all those centuries ago.

A slightly pained expression appeared on the warlock’s features. Alec instantly wanted to reach out and caress the handsome face he so adored. He hated seeing his husband in so much pain. All he wanted was, to soothe it away and make it better.

“Magnus”, the raven-haired Shadowhunter finally did reach out and placed his palm against the warm skin of his beloved. It was almost unnoticeable, but considering the amount of time they now lived together... Alec noticed it, the slight quiver of thin lips and the fleeting expression of dread in dark eyes he learned to love. “I am here.”

“I know,” there was the slightest sign of a smile on the warlock’s lips. “Without you... I wouldn’t be here now.”

“Magnus,” he always wondered how easy it was for his lover, to render him speechless.

“Let’s keep going, okay?” Magnus moved his head just enough to press a soft and loving kiss on the calloused hand against his skin. Alec war truly a steady and strong presence on which he could rely. It helped with the nervousness, as well as the uneasiness he was feeling. This trip... could end in a very, very bad way. But it was a risk, he simply had to take. His, but more importantly, Alec’s life was in danger. This was something that he simply couldn’t ignore.

“Okay. Let’s do that,” Alec nodded in agreement. He watched how his husband took a slightly deeper breath than what was considered normal. Then the warlock seemed to relax, just the tiniest bit. Magnus took a step back and while doing so, he caught the hand that wasn’t resting on his face any longer. With a shy and yet encouraging smile, the Shadowhunter intertwined their fingers. Another deeper breath escaped the warlock, while he squeezed the hand in his lovingly. This might not be the perfect place for exchanging affection, especially not for a couple of the same sex, but he wouldn’t let that bother him for now. They had much more important things to do.

[deadcityhq]

**CHARACTER NAME:** dream, oneiros, kai’ckul… most have different names for him. most commonly dream in this current age, or morpheus. 

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** 

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if relevant/they’re not old af):** so very old i feel like i should keep this blank lmao. when the first creature capable of dreaming was born, he winked into existence.

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** he/him but tbfh he’d answer to just about any of em | agender | yes. the answer is yes.

**CHARACTER FANDOM (if relevant):** the sandman - dc comics

**OC OR CANON:** canon

**CHARACTER TYPE (for example: werewolf, shadowhunter, warlock, demon etc):** one of the endless.

**HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN NEW YORK/WHY ARE THEY THERE ETC:** freed from burgess’ prison, the concepts of ‘distance’ and ‘space’ mean much less to him. he’s in new york as often as he requires. perhaps he’s been there. more often than not in these recent days. who could say. certainly not dream. 

**IMPORTANT CHARACTER INFORMATION TO NOTE AND SHARE (this could be important headcanons for initial plotting, mini bios etc, supporting docs):**

this mostly-immortal personified concept of a being is getting the bullet point treatment because otherwise we’d be here all fucking day and no one wants that. 

dream and the rest of his siblings were begotten into existence the moment that the first being capable of dreaming, well. dreamed. 

his realm, the dreaming, has grown over the millennia and changed shape just as much as he has. creatures created by the minds of humankind, as well as himself, populate the dreaming, plus other beings who became part of his dominion through other means. like eve (she mostly just minds her business it’s fine) or cain and abel (they do *not* mind their business cain re-kills his brother on the daily but it’s fine, dream gave them shit to do). 

dream is a being of many faces and facets; depending on your culture, community or even planet you might see a different face when you look upon him, or know him as a different name. 

things aren’t always set in stone for the endless in spite of their long non-lives. some of the endless siblings have died traumatically and become a new aspect of themselves, or have simply disappeared and removed themselves from the family equation. it’s been a while since either of those things have happened, but they continue to cast a long shadow when the siblings gather together. 

dream had historically been farther removed from mortal lives than some of his siblings, due to some… tragically ending experiences when his sibling desire got involved in his affairs, and it inadvertently caused the downfall of his mortal love’s kingdom. he… knows he was a shithead about how it all went down, but does he still act like a shithead about it? yes

of course, until his sister inadvertently challenged him to know humanity a little better. this was when he first met hob gadling, made immortal by his sister’s blessing. dream became… well *he* would let the furies eat him before admitting it but he became *fascinated* by the unrelenting zeal hob had for the simple act of continuing to be alive. dream was fascinated by his particular bright humanity. and maybe, he’d never really had a friend before. it all brought him closer to the creatures whose dreaming hours he stewarded. 

WELL and then roderick burgess happened. dream became imprisoned in this aleister crowley wannabe’s basement for decades upon decades, while the world stuttered in minute but *bad* ways in his absence. people never waking up, people never being able to fall asleep… as well as nightmares escaping from the dreaming. 

EVENTUALLY dream got the hell outta there and went on his little mission to get his accessories back, all of that domino’d into hunting down the rogue nightmares, finding the vortex that his incredibly vexing sibling desire made, etcetera… with the corinthian shrunken down to a skull in his pocket, dream decided he needed to let that little nightmare and himself ruminate for a while before remaking that particular creature, and let the dreaming breathe after the unrest. 

sure hob and himself only meet once every century, but that doesn’t mean dream doesn’t keep up. especially now, with having missed their last appointment. of course, dream found him anyway and they managed a belated meeting, but it feels… pertinent somehow, to keep an eye or three on him. after all, who wouldn’t be a little alarmed to peek in on your human and find them on a different continent entirely? humans had to pack all of their belongings and find a means of transportation to complete a move like that! 

dream checks in a little more frequently now; even if he’s not always in the shape of ‘looks mostly human’. not to mention it’s been a few hundred years since he came to this city himself, there’s more than a few pockets of his dominion here it would behoove him to monitor as well. 

**THREE AESTHETICS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR CHARACTER:** the just-barely-there smell of ozone after a lightning strike, the sudden realization that you’re having a nightmare, a deep pool of dark water reflecting a starry night sky. 

OOC INFORMATION: 

**MUN NAME/ALIAS:** jesse

**MUN AGE:** 30

**MUN TRIGGERS:**  n/a 

[thelightofthebane]

through the good and bad and all in between

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

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

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

Rating: E

Chapters: 10

Words: Around 23k~

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

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

Chapter 6 - And this is how it's supposed to be

It looked like normal blood.

But it hidden a power greater than they could’ve imagined.

“I thought Simon became a Daylighter as some side effect of the Soul Sword’s light.” Magnus frowned, still trying to comprehend what Alexander has just told him.

That was the official version after all. Something about how being in contact with Clary’s pure blood plus the Soul Sword’s energy affected Simon and he became a rare kind of vampire – something, thus, impossible to recreate. 

“I thought too, until earlier today when Jace finally told me the truth. It’s actually something pretty simple, but that could turn both my parabatai and his girlfriend into a beacon for vampires.”

Magnus nodded in understanding. Not all vampires would be polite enough to say ‘please, could you give me a bit of your blood so I won’t be burned alive under the sun?’ They would actually suck Jace and Clary dry. 

“Not even Clary knows about this. It’s a secret that Jace and Simon have been keeping only between themselves. At least for serious matters those two can actually shut up and keep a secret.” Alec murmured almost grumpily, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, now we both know, too.”

“Why? If Jace is doing this out of guilt just because I lost my magic in exchange of helping him, it’s unnecessary. I made my own choice.”

“It’s not about guilt, Magnus. I think it’s his own version of thank you for, you know, saving him from Lilith. If you haven’t done that, I’d have been forced to kill him. It would have destroyed me. Not only because he is my parabatai, but it would also be my brother’s blood on my hands. He knows that. And he’s grateful for you preventing that.”

Magnus shrugged helplessly as if to say it was nothing, but Alec weren’t having none of that. Taking Magnus’ hand and kissing his knuckles, he spoke softly, almost as if it were a secret.

“Jace might not show it, but he also cares about you a lot, Magnus. You’re family, and we do everything we can for family.”

Magnus’ Adam’s apple bobbed, and he turned his gaze again to the uncapped bottle of concentrated Angel blood.

What if it didn’t work? Though his heritage was of fire and shadow, Magnus was never one to hide in darkness. He liked the light too much, and thrived on it. Being a Child of the Night damped his joy, and he could live with that.

It was just that…

He really didn’t want to.

“Well, if nothing else, I’ll already have my fill for lunch,” he joked, though there was no lightness in his eyes.

His Alexander, never to ignore his distress, kissed his forehead. “Be brave, my love.”

And what else Magnus could do? Still a little hesitant, but more resolute than before, Magnus picked the bottle and took a small sip.

He didn’t know if it was going to work or not, but oh… It was delicious.

Almost addictive.

He drank everything almost in one go, feeling the most sated since waking up to this new life. And fortunately, it was enough to fill his stomach and quench his thirst, or else he might’ve not resisted taking a taste from Alec - whose blood always smelled delicious for him.

And Magnus definitely didn’t want to go there. Yet. Or maybe never.

A thought for another day, however.

“Do you feel any different?”

Magnus shook his head, but was already heading towards the door.

“Only one way to find out.”

Before he could launch himself into the sun, though, Alec grabbed his wrist. His eyes were wide in fear and panic.

“Can’t you just…” He waved his hand. “Put only an arm outside. Just in case it didn’t work.”

“Oh my darling…” Magnus lifted his hands and held Alec’s face in between them. “You have been so afraid all this time, haven’t you? Don’t you worry, okay? I won’t do that to myself. To us.”

Alec searched all over Magnus’ face for reassurance, and seemingly finding it, released a shaking breath. Nodding, he let Magnus’ go and stepped back, giving space to his boyfriend.

Smiling in gratitude, Magnus took only one deep breath - which he didn’t need anymore but the simple action helped to center himself - and then turned, marching forward to the afternoon sun without hesitation.

.

.

.

The world became brighter, lighter, warmer.

 ~*~

They were lazily making out on a sunbed at the back yard, Magnus refusing to go inside for hours already after finding out that he really became a Daylighter. Not that Alec minded. Seeing Magnus smiling and happier was enough for the Shadowhunter.

Only after they were beyond sated and just cuddling, the day giving way for a chilly night, that Alec dared to bring out the topic that was weighing heavily in his mind.

“Have you thought about Raphael’s request?”

For a moment Magnus tensed, but soon enough he relaxed again in Alec’s arms.

“I don’t know if I’m the best as Raphael’s replacement. I may know how their politics work, but I’m fairly new as a vampire myself. How can I expect to have their trust in leading them?”   

“They know you. Maybe not as a vampire, but as a Downworlder like them. An immortal, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were older than most of the clan.”

“It’s still uncharted territory.” Magnus insisted.

“Magnus, you may have changed what you are, but not who you are. Your heart is still the same, and I’m pretty sure your brain is, too. You can still give advice. You have centuries of knowledge in magic and life overall. You created the portal and so many other things. You can still create new things, if not for the Warlock community, but for the vamps. I’m certain they would appreciate that and…”

Alec started to wave his hand aimlessly in the air like he sometimes did when immersing himself at some topic and laying out all the facts to prove his point. It was endearing, actually. It was somehow soothing to have such a small thing unchangeable even when their worlds kept colliding and in the brink of destruction and spinning all the time.

“... And, and we all know how you always liked to eat, from simple things to more ostentatious ones, so don’t tell me you won’t try to indulge yourself with something that may work with blood. Like, hiring some chefs and trying together thousands of recipes while combining different types of blood. You would become their favorite leader in no time! Maybe Maia would love new ideas for Taki’s, too.”

Magnus hummed, humoring his Shadowhunter. “Yeah, that sounds like me, alright.”

“Exactly! The New York clan wouldn’t know what-” Alec’s voice trailed off when a fire message came flying suddenly. He took it from the air and read the urgent message on it.

His expression closed off almost immediately, his eyes thunderous. 

“What is it?” Magnus immediately sat up, worried.

“They found Camille. In a crime scene.”

None talked for a full minute. Alec started typing furiously on his phone while Magnus’ thoughts scrambled like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Only when they suddenly crashed and Magnus blinked out of his reverie, looking up and seeing Alec already looking back at him with worry in his eyes, that he felt coherent enough to form words.

“How…” He cleared his sudden dry throat. “How bad is it?”

“A carnifice. Over a dozen of dead mundanes. Three were children. There was a toddler.”

Silence.

The kind that could suffocate.

Then, Alec sighed. “Magnus, I don’t think imprisonment is enough for her now. She committed too many crimes. She has been killing mundanes left and right. She killed you and Simon. She will certainly get the death sentence, be it from the Clave or the Warlock Council, and I don’t want to–”

“I trust you.” Magnus interrupted him. “I- I don’t want to know anything about her anymore. If I could, I’d have my memories of her completely erased. So, I trust you to make the right call.”

Alec nodded slowly, though he was still very worried about Magnus.

“I have to go back to the Institute to assemble a team. Do you want me to call Cat or Raphael to keep you company?”

Magnus shook his head. “I want to be alone.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the vampire got up from the sunbed. “Go do your job, Shadowhunter. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Without waiting for a reply, Magnus practically fled back to Ragnor’s house, the back door closing with a bitter finality.

~*~

“Wow, I haven’t seen you this murderous since Valentine and Magnus swapped bodies,” Jace commented, very unnecessarily, causing Alec’s scowl to get more pronounced. “No, really. If you glare at the screen any harder, you’ll open a hole in it.”

“Jace, shut up!” Isabelle hissed, elbowing him hard.

As for Alec, he was trying really hard to keep his head cool, or else he would forgo every protocol he knew, laws be damned. Because his only wish currently was to make Camille Belcourt pay with blood, giving her a very slow death.

He wanted to kill her. He really wanted to kill her, deliberately and painfully.

“Alec.”

Alec blinked slowly, back to reality, then turned towards the voice that called him.

“Catarina.”

She wasn’t wearing scrubs like the usual. She wasn’t even with her glamor up. Her blue skin and bright white hair were exposed to all to see at the Ops Center, and for the first time it wasn’t a healer in front of them.

It was a warlock ready to confront the one who hurt her family beyond reality.

Jace gasped, perplexed.

“You called her? We can’t-” He cut himself, then shook his head. “Alec, since when do you put a civilian at risk during a mission? You know it’s against the rules!”

In any other situation, it would’ve been amusing having Jace mentioning laws and rules as if they were something he actually cared for.

But in that moment, Alec didn’t give a single shit.

“I really don’t care, Jace. Cat wanted to come with us, and I would never stop her.” He took his bow from the table and walked past them to give the final orders to all teams assembled and ready to go where Camille was hiding.

“Try to stop me, Shadowhunter.” Cat drawled, staring pointedly at Jace, and soon following Alec.

Jace and Izzy exchanged looks.

They were terrified for their brother.

Usually, Alec was the level-headed, always keeping an eye on them, but for the first time the opposite would be necessary.

They didn’t have at all a good feeling about that mission.

.

.

.

Camille was ready for them.

It was a trap full of demons.

A rift for a hell realm was open.

.

.

.

Alec fell on it.

[rennisaturate]

Vampires !!!

              okayyyy so because i am terrible at keeping track of this shit and because i think it’d be helpful in general for anyone writing with or against vampires ( canon or ocs ) from this lore, here’s a summary of sorts for how vampires operate in Casandra Clare’s Mortal Instruments universe. All of this information was gathered from The Shadowhunter’s Codex (2013) [ i included a link in case anyone wants to buy/read themselves. i recommend also downloading the Libby app and checking to see if u can read it free thru ur library there if u really want ] i meannnn u could always just look at the wiki but whatever this is easier for me lol

the first vampires were created in 1444 in Romania. Vlad III held a public ceremony to summon the greater demon Hecate via blood sacrifice. in exchange for the sacrifice the demon turned him and his court into the first vampires.

vampirism is the result of a demon infection in humans

to be become a vampire: 1) the person must be bitten and fed vampire’s blood and then “die” 2) they must be buried. 3) they must rise by digging themselves out of their grave

newborn vampires are called “fledglings.” a fledgling rising will draw energy from the living things around it and cause cold spots around their grave. the dirt they’re buried in holds special properties for them: they can tell when it’s been disturbed or moved away. breaking a glass of their grave dirt can be used to summon or alert them

vampires are often made by accident. families will bury their deceased loved ones not knowing of the infection, and then they rise. this in turn is the main cause for most random vampire attacks and human deaths by vampires.

biting within itself isn’t as big a deal as the consuming of blood when it comes to transformations. one can be bitten and remain unchanged

vampire venom will relax the victim and can even make the experience euphoric for them

drinking vampire blood on the other hand will cause an “irresistible pull to vampires which could turn them into a subjugate begging to be turned”

the treatment for drinking vampire blood is to drink holy water until all of the blood is out of one’s system. you’ll know it’s worked once the holy water stops making them sick

vampires can keep “subjugates,” though it is illegal to make new ones due to the 1962 Accords

to turn a person into a subjugate, a vampire has to keep the human close and feed them small bits of vampire blood over time. the blood will make them docile and eventually worshipful of their new master. subjugates eventually stop eating regular food and will survive off of vampire and animal blood. they age slowly, but are not immortal and are not considered human. they can only be introduced by their master. subjugates can also be turned into vampires, but they won’t worship their master any more

vampires don’t have to be “invited in” to someone’s home

rays of sun will burn them, but full exposure to the sun will cause them to burst into flame. this is because of them being “demonic, damned creatures who are cursed to not be able to look at the sun that gives life to earth.”

they can also be burned by witchlight since it’s angelic, but to a much lesser extent. other artificial lights can make them uncomfortable if strong enough, but unless they’re very weak it’s not bound to do anything

they’re super flammable and if exposed directly to a flame they’re likely to “burst into the flames in the manner of paper or dry wood”

holy water and other blessed materials (i.e. seraph blades) will burn them

holy symbols can repel vampires if they were of that faith when they were human (i.e. a crucifix repelling a vampire who was christian as a human, but not an atheist or Buddhist or otherwise)

vampires have super human strength, grace and speed, and can heal quickly from regular injuries. their eyes adjust very quickly to changes in light as well and can see in the dark very well. their blood is a bright. shining red

they don’t cast reflections and do not leave fingerprints or footprints, nor can they be tracked using regular tracking spells either demonic or angelic in origin

they posses a power called “encanto.” using prolonged eye contact, they can convince humans and shadowhunters of nearly anything or persuade them into doing anything. it has to be practiced though, so usually older vampires are the best at it

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Hypatia to Julian and Emma

To the Blackthorn Nephilim residing at Blackthorn Manor, Chiswick

From Hypatia Vex, Fellow, Spiral Labyrinth

My greetings. Attached please find the first pages of Tatiana Blackthorn’s diary that I have translated from Purgatic. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought that Magnus Bane might shed some light on the situation that caused you to bring the diary to me, and he did, speaking of a curse upon the house. I have skipped over a number of entries related to the author’s clothes, opinions about her peers, complaints about the weather, and so on, in favor of one that I think will be of special interest (though it rather contradicts what I think of as the history of the house — Benedict Lightwood of course was hardly known to be trustworthy, or perhaps things have altered since his time. A mystery to be delved into, perhaps?)

I will be in touch soon with further translation.

Yours,

H. Vex

Dear Diary, tonight I am in a state of rare elation. It seems that my patience and care may not be as worthless as they are usually assumed to be by the members of this family. For I believe that Father has at long last come to accept and even approve of my betrothal to Rupert! (Oh, happy day, oh darling Rupert!) More astonishing, he has communicated this not by anything so clumsy as an awkward sentimental statement, but instead by taking me into his confidence, and telling me of things that I am sure he has never shared with my brothers.

It was after supper. The Terrible Gs were off whacking at each other with swords, or some such nonsense. Father usually repairs to his study, of course, but tonight he came over to me and, out of the blue, asked me to accompany him there. I dutifully followed.

There he closed the door with care and bade me sit in one of the wing-chairs facing his desk. He settled himself in his own chair and began by telling me that the Lightwood name is a powerful and ancient one.

I replied that I knew that and, indeed, never forgot it.

He continued to say that such a name brings with it great prestige and influence, but also great enmity. The adversaries of the Lightwoods were many, he said. “And I speak not of the demons we make war on, or even of the half-demons permitted to roam the earth on our sufferance, but of those of our own race, that is, the Nephilim.” He explained that there was great envy towards us, and while it would not be expressed directly, there were those who would seek to destroy us.

I asked him who he was thinking of in particular, but he demurred. The enemies change, he said, with the times; alliances form and crumble, as the varying Shadowhunter families’ interests are altered by time and fate.

(I am recording his words as exactly as I can recall them, Diary. I admire the forceful manner by which he expresses himself, and wish to take it upon myself, since the others in my family do not.)

He went on to explain that while it is not widely known, we are well-protected here in Lightwood House, not only by the sound brick and stone, but by an enchantment that affects the house and its grounds themselves.

An enchantment! I was astonished. I knew that magic was a subject of interest to Father, and that his researches led him to minor experimentations. I had no idea that he had accomplished so much. This I expressed in, I hope, a complimentary manner. He said that it had taken him several years to make the preparations, for he did not trust anyone, even a warlock paid well for their silence, with the knowledge of the house’s protection.

The enchantment is very elaborate, as I understand, and its effects somewhat difficult to communicate. Father said that it served both to prevent other Nephilim from investigating the house, and to keep areas of the house, and possessions of the family, hidden from discovery. I asked by what means did the enchantment work, and he said that it had to do with ley-lines, the seams of magic that cross the earth, and a half-dozen objects selected and placed at locations along those ley-lines that are a matter of elaborate calculation.

I pressed him for more detail, reminding him that I shared his interest in the topic of magic, but that was all he would tell. He explained that I was as yet an unmarried girl who need not trouble herself with the ways of the world—and here I finally reach the reason for telling this story, Diary.

As he spoke of me, he gave me a look, one that at first I could not translate. But soon enough I realized: he said that I was “as yet” unmarried. By the glint in his eye I understand what he was saying: you will soon be a married woman.

And so all comes clear, in a beautiful burst of triumph!

Father accepts Rupert, and will approve our marriage—

This will cause me to gain my majority—

That will cause Father to take me further into his confidence about the nature of Lightwood House and his work in magic—

Because he understands that whatever the Law may say, I am the right and proper heir of his goals and his work—

And because he intends Rupert and I to become the masters of this Manor after him!

Though my efforts have been long and arduous, Diary, and I have feared they would never come to fruition, I sleep tonight with victory within my grasp, and only pity for my poor brothers, too vacuous and pigheaded to even understand what has happened while they beat each other with sticks in the training room.

Tatiana soon-to-be-Blackthorn Lightwood

[khaleesiofalicante]

LIGHTWOOD BANES WEEK - ALEC & MAX

Alec was peering through the report from the Head of the LA Institute, Julian Blackthorn, when there was a tentative knock on the door.

Huh. That was odd.

When Magnus had made Alec an office room – and by made, he meant literally summoned it from nowhere – Alec had been secretly pleased.

Of course there were downsides to this kind of gift – like when Magnus magically made the room vanish, along with Alec’s belongings, when they had a little domestic quarrel.

There was no need to knock before entering Alec’s office because the room didn’t have a door - a gesture from Magnus that Alec appreciated. It was to show that anyone who needed Alec’s help was welcome.

But it wasn’t the door-less knocking that Alec found odd, but it rather who it came from.

He was used to his son barging into the office – or any room rather, much to Magnus’ dismay.

So this was new. And a little odd. 

“Max?” Alec took off  his reading glasses and glanced at his son.

The blue-eyed boy was standing awkwardly in the threshold of the room – where a door should have been.

Alec realized he was waiting. Odd again. 

“Come in,” Alec gestured at the seat in front of him.

Max pulled it back and sat down - properly. Odd. Odd. Odd. 

Max would always walk in and share some random fact he found out - all the while sprawled on the chair like a cat, with his feet hanging off the side. The boy never sat down properly. 

But now, he was sitting carefully, his feet ready to bolt any minute. 

“What is it?” Alec asked, feeling concerned.

He has been the boy’s father for 17 years. One would think Alec had gotten around to figuring out this whole parenting thing. But it was an endless course – with a lot of surprise pop quizzes.

This seemed like one of them.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Max said, staring at his knotted hands.

Alec’s anxiety deepened. Max never hesitated. If there was something he wanted to ask, he would simply ask.

“Okay,” Alec tried to sound calm. “What is it?”

“It’s a bit…You know what?” Max suddenly got up. “I’ll google it.”

“Sit down,” Alec said, the tone of the Consul creeping in. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I don’t know how to ask,” Max said awkwardly.

“Use your words,” Alec said softly. “Is this shadow world business?”

“Oh no no,” Max shook his head immediately. “It’s…It’s, um, It’s about…a boy.”

“Did some boy at the institute say something to you again?” Alec demanded, his fingers itching for his bow. “Because if someone did, I wil-”

“No, it’s not like that,” Max looked frantic. “It’s about a boy…I like.”

Oh.

Alec blinked.

Oh.

“A real boy?” Alec asked. “Not one of the mundanes from your posters?”

“It’s a real boy,” Max’s lips twitched.

“Okay,” Alec smiled, feeling equally giddy and nervous about the prospect of his son dating. “What’s his name?”

“Nuh-huh,” Max shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Is it a shadowhunter?” Alec asked, leaning closer. “What institute is he from?”

It could be a shadowhunter. Max did spend an awful lot of time in the New York institute. Alec had always thought it was because of “Uncle Jace” but maybe there was someone else…

“Dad, stop!” Max groaned. “You know what? This was a mistake. I’ll ju-”

“Sorry. Sorry,” Alec raised his hands in surrender. “Alright. What did you want to ask?”

Max looked away. Alec saw his horns quiver a little – a telltale sign that Max was anxious.

“Max,” Alec called softly. “You can talk to me.”

“You won’t freak out?” Max asked, biting his lip.

“I won’t,” Alec promised. He could do this. He has been a father for more than a decade. He can do this.

“Okay,” Max took a deep breath. “When you’re with a boy…and you’re a boy…and there are like two boys…”

Alec gaped. “There are TWO boys!?!?!”

“No. No. Just one,” Max looked horrified. “I mean there are two, but I’m one of them!”

“Oh okay,” Alec regained his composure.

He was okay with Max dating however many people he wanted of course – as long as they all consented – but he had to admit talking about one itself seemed like a challenge. He will need a little more time to prepare for anything else. He needed to take baby steps!

“When there two boys,” Max started again. “How do you know…like how do, um, how do you know what happens?”

Alec chuckled.

“Well, it works differently for different people,” Alec pointed out. “Sometimes you always know you like boys and sometimes it takes a certain someone to help you realize and other t-”

“I know I like boys,” Max interrupted, and Alec wasn’t surprised to hear that. “That’s not what I meant.”

Alec frowned.

“Then what did you mean?” Alec asked. “You need to be more specific, Max.”

Magnus seemed to be running out of patience. He sighed. “When there are two boys…How do you know which one is which?”

“Which one is what?” Alec asked, genuinely confused.

“You know,” Max prompted. “When you have sex. How do you know which one is which?”

Alec blinked.

And then he blinked again.

And it dawned on him. So much for baby steps. 

“YOU’RE HAVING SEX???”

“Shhh!” Max whispered furiously. “You promised you won’t freak out!”

“I’M NOT FREAKING OUT!” Alec whispered loudly – totally freaking out.

“Stop it!” Max warned.

“IS IT A SHADOWHUNTER?” Alec whispered loudly. 

“I’m gonna go to my room,” Max got up.

“Sit down. Sit down,” Alec said quickly.

He can do this. He can totally do this.

Alec reached down and grabbed a bottle of water and started chugging. Max eyed him worriedly.

“You okay?”

Alec nodded, chugging more water.

“We haven’t had sex yet,” Max pointed out. “Just hand stu-”

Alec choked and the water spluttered all over the desk.

Max flicked a wrist and the contents of the table dried themselves immediately.

“This was a mistake,” Max said quietly. “I should have talked to Bapa.”

For some reason, Alec felt oddly touched by that.

Max had come to him.

Him.

“Why didn’t you talk to him?” Alec asked curiously.

It was a no brainer that Magnus was the ideal person to talk about this.

“Because I was worried he will do another PowerPoint,” Max rolled his eyes.

Alec chuckled.

Magnua was ideal. But he was also a little too enthusiastic.

When Max and Rafe had come of age, he had sat them down done a presentation on safe sex – with a Q&A session too.

Rafe had thoroughly enjoyed it and put up his hands multiple times.

Alec and Max however had briefly conspired to make a portal and run away to Peru since Magnus wasn’t allowed there.

“I did ask Uncle Jace,” Max smiled a little.

“Uncle Jace?” Alec couldn’t help but feel offended. “Uncle Jace isn’t even…Uncle Jace has never been with….UNCLE JACE HAD SEX IN HELL FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.”

“By the angel, dad!” Max swore - and as always the nephilim phrase on his warlock son’s lips made Alec smile.

“Why would you talk to Jace about this?” Alec asked.

“I dunno,” Max shrugged. “He is always chill about these things. And he can talk to me about sex without choking on water or turning red.”

“I’m not red!” Alec protested.

“Your face looks redder than Aunt Izzy’s broccoli soup,” Max giggled.

“First of all, broccoli soup is not supposed to be red,” Alec pointed out worriedly. “Secondly, I’m not embarrassed. Never of you.”

Max gave him a tiny grin in response.

“Did you ask Uncle Jace because this boy is from his institute?”

Max just glared and Alec conceded.

“What did Uncle Jace say?” Alec inquired.

“Nothing,” Max chuckled. “He got emotional and said ‘they grow up too fast’ or something and I quickly escaped before he started crying.”

“He never told me anything about it!” Alec said, feeling betrayed.

“Well, I kinda told him not to,” Max winced.

“Why not?” Alec asked, feeling a little ashamed. “Do you not want to talk to me about this kind of stuff? Do you…Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you,” Max said without missing a beat. “I just…I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

Alec’s eyes softened – as did his heart.

“Max,” Alec said softly. “When I was your age, I would have never even thought of talking to my father about this kind of thing. I don’t think any of us could. We were…scared. Ashamed of our bodies and our sexualities. Confused and lost. I don’t ever want you feeling like that.”

“But I-”

“And I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t talk to me,” Alec urged. “I’m your father. You can always talk to me about anything.”

“Are you sure?” Max asked, biting his lip.

“Always,” Alec repeated, his eyes steady.

Max still looked unsure.

“This is what I fought for, Max,” Alec said gently. “You’re what I fought for.”

Max smiled at that. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Alec smiled back. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to do things because you feel like you have to do them.”

“I want to do it,” Max whispered. “I just…I don’t know how or who should…”

Alec took a deep breath. Okay he can do this.

He did want this son to talk to him about anything, but Alec had to be careful with his words. He wasn’t the most eloquent person, and he wasn’t suave like Magnus.

He felt nervous about messing this up or telling Max the wrong thing.

Whenever Alec felt anxious, he immediately thought of Magnus.

A different memory every time. But each one always managed to pull him back. Each one always powerful enough to give him the strength he needed.

An image of Magnus gliding him across the ballroom in Venice swirled into his mind. He remembered looking at his own reflection and realizing he had never been happier.

An idea struck him. 

“Think of it like dancing,” Alec told his son now.

Max blinked, his blue eyelashes fluttering. “Dancing?”

“Yeah. Waltzing for example. There is someone who leads and someone who follows,” Alec pointed out. “Some people feel more comfortable with leading, and others feel more comfortable following. It changes from person to person.”

Max’s brows knit in concentration. “Okay. I see where you are going. Go ahead.”

Alec grinned and gave himself a tiny self-five under the table.

“But just because you like leading, it doesn’t mean that you always have to lead. It’s the same for following too. Sometimes you want to lead and then other times you might want to follow.”

Max considered that. “So, you’re saying whether I want to lead or follow changes with everyone I date?”

“It could, nothing wrong with that,” Alec pointed out quickly. “It could also be with the same person too. Sometimes you want them to lead or follow for a change.”

“And that’s okay too?”

“Of course,” Alec nodded. “But you need to make sure they want to do it. Just because you want them to follow or lead, doesn’t mean they should. Same goes for you.”

Max nodded, looking way too serious for a 17-year-old boy.

“Sometimes you don’t want to change how you dance and that’s okay too,” Alec pointed out. “If you think you only want to lead, then that’s it. Just like with following. If you are more comfortable with following, then stick to it.”

“Okay,” Max said slowly. “But how do I figure out if I want to lead or follow?”

Alec thought about it for a moment.

“Well, sometimes you instinctually know,” he said carefully. “Your body knows what it wants and what it feels comfortable with.”

Max hummed.

“Think about other stuff,” Alec said, trying not to sound awkward. “Like kissing. You should know where you like to be kissed and where you don’t. It’s just like that. You need to listen to your body. Trust it. Trust your instincts.”

Max nodded again. “Okay. What if I…What if I lead and then I don’t like it?”

“Then you try following,” Alec replied. “Sometimes you might not like that either. If you like neither, that’s okay too. Just because everyone is dancing, it doesn’t mean you have to do it too.”

“Oh,” Max said now. “Oh okay.”

“It depends on a lot of things,” Alec said. “The music. The space. These can all affect whether you want to lead or follow or do neither. But the most important thing is your dancing partner. You can’t dance by yourself.”

“Well, technically you can,” Max grinned, and Alec saw a shade of Magnus’ cheekiness reflect in his blue eyes.

“Max!” he chastised.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Max put up his hands. “So, about the dancing partner?”

“You need to trust them and they need to trust you,” Alec said, a little more seriously now. “Dancing can be a little intimidating sometimes. Especially if you haven’t done it before. It’s easier when do it with someone who you trust. Someone who will catch you if you trip and won’t judge you for being clumsy.”

“This analogy is getting out of hand,” Max muttered.

“But you do get my point, right?” Alec asked, still serious. “It’s alright to want to have sex. But remember that it’s not always about who does what. These roles...They don’t define you. Sometimes…Sometimes people will say things.”

“Things?” Max bit his lip worriedly.

“Sometimes,” Alec said, because he didn’t want his son to worry. “For example, if this boy is a shadowhunter, then people might expect him to lead. Because they think shadowhunter men shouldn’t follow.”

“He is not a shadowhunter, dad!” Max grumbled.

“Regardless…The point still stands. They will say people who lead the dance are better or that people who follow are inferior. They will try to tell you whether you should lead the dance or follow. Don’t listen to them.”

Max nodded again, as if he knew. It pained Alec to think that Max was already exposed to this kind of toxic stereotypes.

“Whether you are leading or following, what matters is that you enjoy the dance,” Alec told his son. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to do with your body. Only you get to decide that.”

“Okay,” Max said, he was smiling now. “Okay, dad.”

“Are we good?” Alec asked. “Do you have any questions?”

“It’s just like dancing, right?” Max asked. 

“Just like dancing,” Alec winked. “You’ll figure it out.”

Max thought for a minute. “Okay I think I’m good.”

Alec let out a quiet breath. Somehow it felt like he had passed an important exam.

“Good,” Alec smiled back. “That’s good.”

“This didn’t go as awkwardly as I thought it would,” Max chuckled.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Alec rolled his eyes fondly. “Now. About this boy….”

“I’m not telling you anything!” Max shook his head.

“Just tell me his last name!”

“It’s not a shadowhunter, dad!” Max rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Alec asked.

“Well, now that you ask,” Max said, with a grin that suited the devil. “I do remember a strength rune on his abdomen the last time I li-”

Alec’s hands flew to his ears. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU. BLAH BLAH BLAH. I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

Max moved closer to him and removed Alec’s hands and ruffled his hair affectionately. Alec, not for the first time, realized that Max was an inch taller than he was.

Suddenly it didn’t feel weird that Jace had almost cried. They did grow up too fast.

“Thanks for the talk,” Max winked. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, buddy,” Alec said.

“Okay then. I’m gonna go hang out with Rafe,” Max said trying to sound nonchalant.

“Are you going to the institute?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“Think what you want,” Max grinned but then paused. “You won’t tell bapa I’m seeing someone, right? I don’t want him stalking this boy on Instagram.”

“Is that some kind of warlock hang out spot?” Alec asked.

Max barked out a laugh. “Sure. I have seen plenty of warlocks on insta. But just don’t tell him. Not yet. Can you make a promise?”

“Of course!” Alec said in an offended tone as he followed Max to the door. “You think I can’t keep a secret?”

“I think you can’t keep a secret from your beloved husband,” Max replied as he picked up his backpack.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Your bapa is not the boss of me.”

“Huh huh,” Max grinned as he ran down the stairs. “Yeah, I’ve heard the two of you dancing.”

“MAX MICHAEL!!” Alec yelled after him.

“Just don’t tell Bapa,” Max warned with a blue finger. 

“Don’t tell Bapa what?” Magnus emerged from the bedroom, wearing a purple robe, looking extremely curious and cheeky. 

Max and Alec stared at each other. 

“Nothing!” they both said at the same time.

“If this is about the boyfriend, I already know,” Magnus rolled his eyes. “Max, I'm rather hurt you’d think I wouldn’t figure it out. I’ve been following the boy on instagram for months now.”

Instagram! Alec had to find this place. Maybe he could ask Jace to help him find this warlock hideout. 

“You’re Great Poison on Insta!” Max gasped in shock. “I should have known! Only you could come up with something lame like that!”

“Hey!” Magnus protested.

“You knew?” Alec demanded from Magnus. “And you didn’t tell me! Who is this boy? Is he a shadowhunter?”

Magnus blinked. “Oh. You don’t know. Oh my god, Alexander. You really don’t know? This is going to be so much fun!”

“Magnus, tell me now!”

“Nope,” Magnus grinned and Alec knew he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon. 

Alec put his hands on his hips. “No more dancing for you!”

Max giggled and covered his mouth. 

Magnus looked confused. “Meh. You aren’t that good of a dancer anyway,” he shrugged and walked away.

Max doubled down laughing. Alec didn’t think it was funny one bit. 

“Is there anything else I don’t know?” Alec demanded. “Is Rafael secretly married?”

“You never know,” Max winked and he ran down the stairs. 

“MAX, GET BACK HERE!” Alec yelled but Max was long gone.

Alec went back to his office room, grinning to himself.

He felt absurdly proud of himself. He didn’t think it was possible for a shadowhunter to talk about something like this. Let alone for a shadowhunter to talk to his own son about something like this.

But here he was. Once again, redefining possibilities for his people.

For his family.

“You want to come stalk this boy on instagram?” Magnus asked from the threshold of the office. 

“No, thank you,” Alec rolled his eyes. “I’d like to respect my son’s privacy.”

“Very well,” Magnus shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He focused on Julian’s report again for five minutes before his resolve broke and Alec barged into the bedroom.

“IS HE A SHADOWHUNTER OR NOT!?!?!”

[julescarstairs]

If Aught but Death: Chapter 1

(An AU to the Dark Artifices)

The Shadow Market wasn’t as busy as Julian recalled it to be; though, he supposed, nobody would yet be brave enough to come visit the market after the display in Idris only days ago. Perhaps Downworlders didn’t yet feel safe, were making themselves scarce so the Cohort couldn’t come for them. If Julian were in their shoes, he certainly wouldn’t have been trading like normal after such a colossal loss. So, sure: maybe it wasn’t as busy as it should have been. Maybe that was Julian’s fault. Maybe he’d feel guilty later. But right now he felt it was an advantage. Less clients meant stall owners might be more desperate for exchange.

And desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Bold of you to step foot in here after the shitshow in Idris, nephilim,” said a werewolf clerk selling charms that protected against silver. She spat the word at him like it would hurt, and Julian’s lack of reaction to her bitterness seemed to throw her off. She sank back on her stool, stared at him for a moment. Julian stated right back at her. What was she going to do— attack him? He wasn’t armed. Whatever loose rules bound the salespeople Shadow Market, he was certain that one of them was to not attack potential customers without good reason. Even if they were Nephilim. “Jesus Christ, you look a mess, boy. Is all that misery of failure eating you up inside?”

“I never promised victory,” Julian said calmly, but didn’t deny that he probably did, in fact, look below average. He felt like a mess. “Resistances aren’t always successful. We all lost something in that failure. Myself included. This isn’t my fault—”

“Of course,” the clerk threw her hands up. “You lost a friend—“ it was the understatement of the year, but Julian didn’t have it in him to argue that without opening the wound he had only just covered up. “I’ve lost my whole business! Faeries, werewolves, vamps and warlocks alike are cowering because of your stupid idea to resist your own damn government! But, sure, we’ve all lost something in the wake of defeat. I’m sure you’re also going to be persecuted like the rest of us once the Cohort gains momentum again, aren’t you?” The amount of sarcasm in this woman’s voice would have even given the sharpest Herondale a run for their money.

“Probably,” Julian agreed, which seemed to tip off the clerk more.

“Ohh, you’re asking for it, boy,” She leant over the stand, pointing at the table with an air of entitlement, “How dare you—”

“Clementine, enough.”

Julian turned to see Hypatia Vex hurrying towards them, arms swinging at her sides with an air of purpose. Her bronze hair was tied into a ponytail snugly behind her head, which swung back and forth with every determined step she took. Though her expression was smooth and stone-faced, there was a look in her starry eyes that made him hopeful that she wasn’t about to turn him away. “Hypatia,” Julian said. “You’re looking well.”

“If only I could say the same about you,” Hypatia reached out and pressed a hand to the small of his back, pushing him along, away from Clementine. She shot the werewolf a withering look. “Miss Prophe, if I catch you intimidating another potential customer again, I will personally see you banned from the Los Angeles and London Shadow Markets. Given your supposed lack of customers, I’m surprised you didn’t know better than to take your anger out on one.”

Hypatia walked with Julian for quite some distance, and didn’t talk until Clementine’s spluttering protest was out of earshot. Then she turned and touched his cheek, a maternal gesture that took him by surprise. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said softly to him, “Mortality is so fickle, and even more so for you Shadowhunters. But that doesn’t make the loss of those closest to you any easier to deal with. I could tell that girl meant a lot to you.”

“Thanks,” was all Julian said in response. Word travelled fast in the Shadow World, it seemed.

Taken aback by his dismissal, Hypatia leant back, blinking. She seemed to be trying to read his expression for some sort of emotion. Julian was certain she wouldn’t be disappointed in his findings. He felt cold and despairing right to his very bones. It would surprise even him if that didn’t show on his face or in his eyes. “Right,” Hypatia sighed, seeming contented with whatever she got out of his expression. She pat his cheek once more before stepping back, “So, what can I do you for? I’m guessing you’re not here for a friendly visit at this hour?”

The question made Julian’s stomach rock with unease. Can I trust her? The question rebounded inside his mind the way his voice would echo, loud and high pitched, inside the caves he and Emma explored as kids. Part of him wanted to, seeing as she spared him any further confrontation with Clementine Prophe, had expressed condolences at the loss of his Parabatai and the love of his life. But the other part of him recalled what she had actually said to Clementine upon ushering him away. Given your supposed lack of customers, I’m surprised you didn’t know better than to take your anger out on one.

How could he be certain that Hypatia was truly sympathising for him, and wasn’t using that to make financial gains from him? Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.

Deciding his approach, Julian said, “I’m having trouble sleeping. I was hoping someone here had something that would help.”

“Hm,” Hypatia turned on her heel, the stiletto digging into the compacted dirt beneath her. “Understandable. Right this way. I know a few stalls up ahead that sell plenty of fine sleep remedies.”

And they set off again, up and around the corner into a square littered with stalls. Some were full and operating, business as usual, while others were sparse and untouched. Julian looked around himself; this was where he had been the time he had come with Kit. He turned and looked over his shoulder, saw the old stall which had previously been advertising the Lottery, the Guardian and its Followers.

The memory of dancing with Emma rose up in his mind, a sharp slap whose pain he welcomed. It had pained him to be so close to her, to murmur into the space between them, but not be able to have her in the way that he did in his dreams. It pained him to think that at that time, the feelings he felt were his alone — that Emma did not feel the same. But it was still just as glorious. Having Emma all to himself, in a ballroom full of people. Feeling like royalty.

It felt so far away right then and there.

Julian noticed there was a little card holder on the bench of the stall, newer than any of its surroundings. He couldn’t make out the features of the card, the text on it; he would need to get closer for that. But wouldn’t it look suspicious? Walking up to a condemned stall which no one had even bothered to clean up?

Don’t. He told himself. It’s not worth your time.

But what if—

“It’s about as busy as a ghost town,” Hypatia had come to a stop in front of him, and was gesturing bitterly at the scene in front of her. “Don’t worry, Julian. This isn’t your fault. It’ll be business as usual in no time.” She pat his shoulder, winking at him, “Stay right here. I’ll go ask about for some remedies. I’ll bring them back to you, and you’ve just got to hand me over the money.”

Julian had only as much time to give a terse nod before Hypatia Vex disappeared into the eye of the Shadow Market. He watched her go until she was gone, then turned around and approached the old stall. He picked up a card and turned it in his hands. It was blue and white with silver edges. They were sharp, he noticed, as he ran a finger along its edge. It could be used as a weapon. He turned it in his fingers again, reading the blue, shimmering font typed out across its front. There was only one word, centred, on the card.

“DESIDERATING?”

What?

There had to be more to it than that. It was a deceptively useless business card, Julian thought: no name, no address, no point of contact. Just a word that one might only use in a game of scrabble. Desiderating?

He recalled the ticket to the Lottery that he and Emma had discovered at Wells’ house, how they had to mark it with a stele to reveal the whole message on the golden card. Julian briefly looked around himself before sliding his stele out of his pocket. He etched a rune into the bottom corner of the card, small and artful, and in a matter of seconds the small card began to glow from within. It grew warm in his fingers. The letters of the word rearranged themselves, and others appeared in curling, smaller font beneath it. A name, a phone number, an address. A call to action.. It was like watching a piece of art create itself. He slid his stele read the card once all the words had been formed.

“Thinking about RAISING THE DEAD? Contact Eris Flake, professional Necromancer, for all your death-defying needs. No lock in contract. No judgement. No laws broken. Your perfectly legal necromancy institution.”

It was like a blessing in disguise. Julian’s heart was in his throat. He peered down at the phone number stamped in the bottom corner, at the address stamped beneath it.

“Las Vegas?” Julian muttered to himself. The address itself was oddly vague, he thought. Only the city and state were mentioned. He stroked his thumb across the card, committing its texture to memory, convincing himself this was real. Nevada was only one state over, he supposed. If travelling to Las Vegas a few times was all he had to do to bring Emma back, he would. It was much less than he had been prepared to do, after all. The only issue would be how he would get away from home long enough without his siblings growing suspicious. They had all been hovering around him like hawks since Emma’s passing, as if they were afraid he would do something to himself.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. Julian slid the card into his pocket as he heard Hypatia’s heels approaching quickly behind him. You don’t know if she’ll actually help you yet. It could be a scam.

But it was so hard not to get ahead of himself when the solution to all of his problems had been so perfectly laid out in front of him. All the more reason not to trust it, Julian supposed. He should have known better than to have hope.

“Good, good. You didn’t make tracks on me,” Hypatia smiled keenly, and handed Julian a tote bag full of miscellaneous remedies. “A few Faeries gave me some powders and teas that help with sleep. I also got a candle which emits an aroma that soothes the mind and helps with nightmares. And one of those eye mask things, courtesy of myself. Sometimes pressure on the eyes is soothing.” She seemed proud of herself, held out a hand demandingly, “I’ve done my part. Now pay me for my service.”

“Name your price,” Julian said, peering down into the bag. It smelt strongly of lavender and apricot, dizzyingly strong. He guessed that if he used more than one of these at the same time he wouldn’t wake up for a month. Minimum.

“Three hundred.”

“Three hundred?” It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money to pay — he simply didn’t believe the goods were worth one hundred dollars let alone three. He could have bought the same herbal remedies from an incense shop in central L.A.

“Three hundred,” Hypatia confirmed, and Julian obediently placed the money into her palm. Her elongated fingers curled around the stack of money, and she grinned. “Thank you, dear. Now, you go off and get a good night’s rest.”

***

Julian sat in the car, parked in the parking lot outside Canter’s. It was the same car park in which only weeks ago Emma had saved his life. The sun was beginning to turn the sky from a midnight blue to a delicate peach colour as it rose over the horizon. He couldn’t see it past the buildings around him, but he knew it was coming. He looked down at the business card in his hand. It hadn’t changed since he left the market. The phone number was still stamped in the corner, beckoning for him to call it. He tipped his head back against the headrest, drawing in a shaky breath. Stop it, he told himself. Stop overthinking it.

But what if he wasn’t overthinking? What if it was all a set up? What if it was the Cohort’s doing? The Clave’s? Maybe they had set up tabs to try and catch him out. To catch others out. To put a stop to the dark magic that had put their society in this mess in the first place.

It couldn’t be. The Clave was still trying to reconstruct itself, the Cohort was doing the same. This was his one shot to fix everything. To be whole again. Stop stalling.

He dialled the number into his phone, lifted it to his ear. It rang out once, twice, three times, and Julian could feel the onset of a wave of despair coming when suddenly the phone picked up.

“Desiderating?” Came a voice, low, on the other end of the line.

“Yes,” Julian nodded his head, once. “Who am I talking to?”

“Eris Flake.” Yes. Relief flooded his system like water bursting through a dam. He tried not to give any indicator of the tense excitement coursing through him, even held his breath so she couldn’t hear its shaking. “Professional Necromancer and Dark Magic Dealer. I’m guessing you’re in need of one of those two things, otherwise you wouldn’t have picked up my business card, decoded it, or dialled my number.” A pause, then. “So tell me, who am I dealing with?”

No going back now. “My name is Julian Blackthorn, and I—I need your help. I’m desperate.”

[harkasun]

Attention Seeker

Based on this art by @hrast-ika

Read below or read on my Ao3

This was the day, Alec thought as he took the stairs up to the loft two at a time.

For months now, he had been at the beck and call of what seemed like every shadowhunter at the New York Institute. The second he had returned from his honeymoon, relaxed and blissful and happier than he had ever been, his work life came crashing down.

He and Magnus had barely had a moment to themselves. Every time it seemed that they might have a minute of peace, someone else had come knocking down their door with another problem that only Alec could solve.

This was the day, Alec thought as he wrenched open the door of their apartment.

Magnus was his husband and he deserved so much more attention than he had been getting. Guilt had been gnawing at Alec for months. Magnus had been relieved of his high warlock duties, taking sparse clients with trivial issues. Alec knew he wasn’t happy and it hurt that he couldn’t do anything to give back the life that Magnus had been stripped of—but, by the Angel, he would do whatever he could.

So, he took a half-day, ran back to Brooklyn, ran to their home, to his husband. He would surprise Magnus, spend the afternoon pampering him, pleasing him, doing whatever he could to make his husband happy.

This was the day, he thought as he discovered Magnus out on the balcony, lounging on his ornate, outside fainting couch, looking heaven-sent.

“Alexander,” Magnus greeted with a smile and a soft pinch to his brow as he tracked Alec’s movements towards him. “I wasn’t expecting you until—”

Alec leaned down, took Magnus’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. The warlock clutched his waist, pulled Alec down onto the couch beside him. He gasped when their lips broke in brief readjustment and a soft, needful whine broke from the back of Alec’s throat.

A gentle meow rose up from somewhere off to the side. It wasn’t an uncommon sound. Magnus took in strays a lot; the apartment always had at least one cat wandering around. Alec ignored it.

Soft fur brushed against his elbow—his arm bent to cradle Magnus’s cheek—and he snuck a peek, seeing a cat had climbed up onto Magnus’s lap and was slyly manoeuvring itself into the warlock’s arms. Magnus hummed, gently prised himself from the kiss to give his attention to the animal.

“Hello, lovely,” he murmured, smiling when the cat meowed at him insistently. “Oh, you want attention too, huh?”

Alec glared at the feline with narrowed eyes and it stared back smugly, lifting its nose high as Magnus scratched under its chin. It felt like he was being mocked. This was his one day with Magnus and this cat was ruining his plans. Watching Magnus’s fingers thread through dark fur, watching his smile, he wondered briefly if he could really come second to a cat.

“You’re pouting, my love.”

Alec shook himself out of his own head, meeting Magnus’s soft gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered, forcing his expression to smooth. “I just… I had plans.”

“We have time, darling,” uttered Magnus, leaning in to kiss his cheek, though his hand was still on the cat. It was arching its spine up against Magnus’s palm, purring loudly. “Cats are fussy when they feel like it and aloof when they don’t. The day doesn’t unravel because of a little interruption.”

“The days always unravel because of little interruptions,” said Alec in a complaint that sounded so much like a whine. He flushed, embarrassed that he was letting this get to him. Magnus must think so little of him now that he knew a cat was enough to make him feel inferior.

Magnus narrowed his eyes, glanced Alec up and down. “Is that why you’re back so early?”

Exhaling in a soft sigh, Alec lifted a shoulder in feigned nonchalance. “I wanted some alone time with you. It feels like ages since we… we were intimate with each other. I miss it. I miss you… I know I haven’t been around so much lately. I’m sorry; work has kept me so busy.”

“You don’t have to apologise for that,” Magnus said. “I know how important you are to the institute.” He sighed, scratching behind the cat’s ear. “Look, I know we haven’t always had it easy. I know that the end of our honeymoon marked the start of a very hectic series of responsibilities for you and… not so many responsibilities for me… but I love you and I know you love me.”

“I do,” Alec said quickly, reaching out to gently clasp Magnus’s arm. The cat butted the top of its head against his forearm and Alec offered it a small smile as he moved to stroke across the feline’s head. “Okay… I guess you’re not so bad either.”

Magnus smiled softly. “We’ll be okay,” he murmured. “Life is busy now, but it won’t always be that way. We’ll settle down one day, I promise you that… In the meantime, we just have to hold onto moments like this, where you’re romantic and spontaneous by coming to see me in the middle of the day, where we can just enjoy one another’s company.”

“With minor interruptions,” said Alec with a chuckle, thumbing at the cat’s pointed ear.

“Maybe,” said Magnus thoughtfully, sounding a little distant, but happy. “Out of interest… what do you have planned for this evening?”

Alec winced. “Ah, I… I’m sorry if it sounded like I had something set up. I haven’t made any concrete plans or anything. I just… I wanted to be good to you, run you a bath, maybe cook you dinner, just… whatever you want, I’ll do it. You deserve to be taken care of.”

Magnus hummed his interest, a familiar gleam in his eyes. “This bath…” he began slowly and Alec flushed at that tone because he recognised it so well, “could it be a… two-person affair?”

Swallowing hard, Alec willed the flush from his cheeks, palming at the heat on the nape of his neck. Months into marriage and Magnus could still fluster him. Alec hoped he never stopped. He hoped they both continued to surprise one another for as long as Magnus would have him, interruptions or not.

“Whatever you want,” he echoed and he knew he would always repeat that, offering Magnus anything he desired, for the rest of his days.

[visander]

A Wedded Union | Ao3.

In which Alec and Magnus got married when Alec marched down the aisle and kissed Magnus, unbeknown to them both.

This is my ‘Accidental Marriage’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

When Magnus stormed into Alec’s wedding, he had nothing on his mind except getting there. Truthfully, he didn't know what he expected would happen after he arrived. Perhaps, Alec would yell at him to leave. Perhaps, he’d end up awkwardly watching as Alec married a woman he could never love. Perhaps… something else would happen but even contained within that last unlikely perhaps, Magnus hadn’t ever expected Alec to do what he did.

He didn’t expect Alec to call off his wedding on the spot. He didn’t expect Alec to walk down the aisle, dismiss his mother and pull Magnus into a breathtaking kiss but that’s exactly what happened. It seemed that Alexander was always taking him by surprise, even when Magnus expected him to do the opposite of what he ended up doing.

That day at his wedding was no different and Magnus was never more taken back and pleased by the outcome. It was selfish, Magnus knew but if he was being honest, it felt nice for someone to choose him. It felt nice for his efforts to pay off and for him to have helped Alec not make what would have been in Magnus’ opinion, a horrendous life lasting mistake. It felt good that whatever he’d done had helped Alec be true to himself.

It was the perfect start for something wonderful, if Magnus was not immediately scared that Alec would come to regret it. Magnus knew that he was a lot to deal with. Magnus knew that Alec’s family and his peers were going to be less than accepting of the public display that Alec had just made. If Alec didn’t come to resent him for what he’d chosen to do, this could be something wonderful but Magnus was fearful that this wonderful would turn worrisome fast.

That’s what Magnus had been thinking about following Alec's wedding and their kiss. He had not been thinking about shadowhunter custom of kissing at weddings or anything more serious than the fact that Alec had just kissed the breath right out of him. He’d been thinking about that and the fact that Maryse Lightwood had looked angry enough to bite Alec’s head off, though she showed an immense amount of strength in not doing so.

When Alec was inevitably called away for his shadowhunter duties, Magnus went home with a bit of enthusiasm in his step. He walked home smiling and trying not to check his phone every few minutes like a school girl waiting for a message from a crush. He’d walked home wondering when Alec would call him again and when they’d see each other next.

He had not been thinking about the fact that he and Alec had just gotten married, in the eyes of the shadowhunters at least, because he had not known that to be the case and Alec hadn’t either but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

.

They found out nearly three days later. Magnus and Alec had been walking through the Institute together, intent on finally having their first date when Maryse Lightwood had barreled around the corner, clutching a paper tight in her grasp and looking furious enough that Magnus worried she might catch fire any moment.

Maryse looked to Magnus once and then promptly looked to her son and refused to acknowledge Magnus’ presence again. He might as well be a fly on the wall. Magnus was pretty sure Maryse would much prefer he be that way.

“Call and tell them to fix it,” Maryse demanded as she thrust the now crumbled piece of paper at Alec’s chest.

Alec’s eyes widened. He took a half step back before he reached for the paper his mother held out. Confusion was written across his face and it was obvious to Magnus that Alec was just as in the dark as he was.

“What are you talking about?” Alec asked as his eyes started to skim the paper quickly.

“Fix it,” Maryse ground out furiously, offering no immediate explanation. Her eyes snapped to Magnus before looking back to her son. “I will not have the Clave thinking you intended to marry a warlock with your embarrassing little stunt.”

Alec’s face twisted at her words, as did Magnus’. The thought was almost laughable. Even if he and Alec had wanted to get married, and it was far too soon for that, the Clave would never have let them. Warlocks did not marry Shadowhunters. Shadowhunters married Shadowhunters and that’s all the Clave allowed.

Magnus leaned forward to peer over Alec’s shoulder, skimming the letter that was addressed to Alec himself from Jia Penhallow, the current Consul. Most of it was the word fluff that Magnus was used to having to read through in every formal interaction he had with the shadowhunters. They could never cut to the chase and say what they wanted but right at the bottom, Magnus found a paragraph that explained pretty well what Magnus needed to know.

‘In lieu of recent events, the Clave has decided to honor your dedication to one Magnus Bane and certify your marriage as official. It is the Clave’s hope that you and your husband will help strengthen our ties to the downworld and that the officiation of your union will show as a good faith attempt to bridge the gaps between our people. I look forward to speaking with you in more depth about this shortly.’

Alec shifted and Magnus could see suddenly that there was another crumpled paper under the letter. It held the official seal of the Consul, along with the elegant decorative letterhead that announced the paper as an official declaration of marriage between one Magnus Bane and Alexander Lightwood.

Alec seemed just as shocked as Magnus was and when neither of them said a word, Maryse snapped again. “Fix it, Alec,” she hissed, before she was turning to storm away, leaving Alec holding the evidence of their marriage in his loose, blindsided hands.

Alec finally turned to Magnus. “I didn’t mean to marry you,” he rushed out.

In normal circumstances, Magnus might have pretended to be offended at that but he sensed that it wasn’t quite an appropriate time. They hadn't even had a first date. They hadn’t even kissed, besides their very public kiss at Alec’s, their, wedding. Despite all of that, they were married.

Magnus was a lot to deal with even without considering the fact that they’d accidentally declared themselves for each other. “I didn’t either,” Magnus said finally. He wanted to be clear that he hadn’t walked into Alec’s wedding and intended to trick him into marrying him but Alec didn’t seem to need the assurance.

“I can’t believe they’d let that happen.” Alec met Magnus’ eyes, as if Magnus might possibly have some kind of explanation but Magnus was just as shocked as Alec was. For the Clave to certify a wedding not only between a warlock and a shadowhunter but between a male shadowhunter and a male warlock - well, Magnus would have thought he’d die before he’d see the day and that was saying something, considering his very large lifespan.

“I find it hard to believe too. I’ve heard Jia is… progressive but I didn’t expect her to be that progressive.” Magnus laughed nervously but Alec seemed too frazzled to realize how carefully Magnus was watching Alec, waiting for a reaction that would tell him if Alec was terribly upset at everyone thinking he’d married not only a warlock but Magnus.

“She’s not,” Alec said quickly. “They think the downworld is going to revolt. They’re doing anything they can to try and keep the peace, surprisingly enough. I suppose I can see how a marriage between a shadowhunter and a downworlder, especially the High Warlock, would make them look good.”

Slowly, Magnus nodded. Alec was right. There wasn’t a single downworlder who wouldn’t be entirely caught off guard by the news but it did signify a change in the Clave, one that just might be enough to make people complacent. Magnus opened his mouth to respond but Alec looked up suddenly and his expression was intense enough that Magnus fell silent, waiting for him to speak.

“We can’t tell them we didn’t want to get married,” Alec said, assured enough that it took Magnus a moment to even respond.

Slowly, Magnus raised an eyebrow, “You want them to think we’re married?” Magnus asked. “We don’t know each other that well and… Well, marriage is a big deal and I don’t think either of us thinks we’re ready for that.”

“But you don’t care what the Clave thinks,” Alec insisted. “It doesn’t matter to you if they think we’re married.”

At that, Magnus paused. He wasn’t wrong. Magnus didn’t particularly care what the Clave thought of he and Alec’s relationship. “You care,” Magnus said softly. “You want them to think you married me?” Magnus asked in disbelief. He expected Alec to realize all at once that he did not want that at all but that didn’t appear to be what happened.

Instead, Alec looked confused. “Why would I care? If I was worried about any backlash, I wouldn’t have kissed you. If anything, them deciding we're married is a relief.” Alec laughed softly but Magnus wasn’t quite following what was so funny. “I thought they might derune me. Deciding to accept our partnership is a far cry from that, even if it isn’t really what we intended.”

Alec’s brows furrowed as something seemed to occur to him. “I just don’t think we can correct them. They’re doing it for their own gain but Jia is right. It is good for the downworld and for the Clave. If we corrected them, they might decide that it was a mistake all together and never allow it to happen again.”

Alec’s eyes flickered up to Magnus hesitantly. “Unless, you don’t want them to think we’re married,” he said anxiously. “Then, I can let them know to absolve it.”

Magnus blinked and said nothing for far too long. The Clave had caught Magnus off guard but Alec had too. What shadowhunter would want his people to think he’d married a warlock? What shadowhunter would be thinking of future relationships between their people at a time like this? What shadowhunter would be worried that Magnus might not want to be publicly married to a shadowhunter and not the reverse?

Alexander, apparently. His sweet endlessly surprising shadowhunter.

“I don’t mind if your government thinks we’re married,” Magnus said carefully. “I just thought you might,” he insisted. Magnus had been worried Alec might regret kissing him. This was so much bigger than that and he needed to know that Alec was sure.

Alec’s face crumpled in confusion again. “Why would I care?” He asked earnestly.

A soft disbelieving laugh came to Magnus’ lips. “Because you married a dastardly warlock by the name of Magnus Bane?” Magnus posed. “And your mother didn’t seem too pleased and this is far more than you signed up for when you kissed me and-”

Magnus fell silent suddenly because Alec reached out and clasped Magnus’ hand with his own. “Magnus,” Alec said, a soft amused smile coming across his face. “I’d have been honored to marry you someday. I don’t mind if everyone thinks we already are.”

Magnus felt his tongue still in his mouth. No words came out even though Magnus felt like he should find something to say. Finally, Magnus simply nodded and Alec grinned a little wider.

Alec let go of his arm and suddenly looked a touch nervous, which Magnus didn’t understand until Alec opened his mouth again. “Could I uh, kiss you?” Alec asked softly.

This time, it was Magnus who couldn’t help but grin. Alexander, his pseudo husband, was nervous to ask if they could kiss. It was adorable and that’s all that Magnus could think. Magnus nodded and when Alec leaned in to press their lips together, Magnus realized that it was their second kiss ever and that they’d done it, in the eyes of the Clave at least, as husbands.

At least Magnus knew that his relationship with Alec was never going to be boring, if the first three days of it were anything to go by.

[queenlilith43]

The Eldest Curses -- Biblical Nephilim?

I have been thinking of this theory for a very long time, but I had to do tons and tons of research. I had to read the Book of Enoch, which is over 100 chapters long, and also spent an entire chapter describing how the solar system works.

Tags: @apple-bottom-jeansx @the-blackdale @murderbabies @unorganisedbookshelf @revati3008 @patalliumapples @tenacioushubb @hardlymatters @pjo-tsc-trc-otherthingstoo @wannabe-warlock @clarys-heosphoros @gabtapia

Also huge shout-out to @revati3008 Ilysm you helped me with this and also managed to handle my explanation of the Book of Tobit.

I'm linking some resources I used at the end so you can read it on your own and draw your own conclusions.

As we already know, the eldest curses are the children of the Princes of Hell, specifically the oldest ones. It's been hinted at they have some powers, and I have evidence to explain how the eldest curses may be the same thing as the giants of the Nephilim from the Bible.

(Also I know there are the giant Nephilim from QOAAD that was Julian and Emma but that would be the angelic version of these!)

First, this quote from Genesis. All quotes from the Bible are the King James version, because that's the same version the Lucifer quotes were taken from.

Genesis 6:4-5 "There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown. And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually."

Evil giants are not good, and then soon after this, God just floods the Earth and kills almost everyone. It's been said that this was because of the Nephilim, and we can look to the Book of Enoch for more information on this.

Enoch 7:11-15 is "And the women conceiving brought forth giants, Whose stature was each three hundred cubits. These devoured all which the labour of men produced; until it became impossible to feed them; When they turned themselves against men, in order to devour them; And began to injure birds, beasts, reptiles, and fishes, to eat their flesh one after another, and to drink their blood Then the earth reproved the unrighteous."

I saw another quote that caught my eye, which was Enoch 6:10, "But you, ye unholy, shall be accursed."

Along with this quote, Enoch 6:6, "Therefore your days shall you curse, and the years of your lives shall perish; perpetual execration shall be multiplied, and you shall not obtain mercy."

Cursed, eh? This was also referring to the same giants earlier, the sons of the fallen angels.

Who are these fallen angels? You might be asking. Well, let's look at the Book of Enoch.

Enoch 7:9 "These are the names of their chiefs: Samyaza, who was their leader, Urakabarameel, Akibeel, Tamiel, Ramuel, Danel, Azkeel, Saraknyal, Asael, Armers, Batraal, Anane, Zavebe, Samsaveel, Ertael, Turel, Yomyael, Arazyal. [Azazel is in here somewhere I totally forget which one is supposed to be him, sorry.] These were the prefects of the two hundred angels, and the remainder were all with them."

Samyaza is supposed to be the angel of pride, similar to Lucifer. For some reason my mind went straight to this quote from Magnus, when he was talking to Asmodeus in one episode of the TV show. (It was 3.10 in case anyone's wondering.) "The kind of man whose love for his chosen son might outweigh his pride."

Even if this was on the show, Asmodeus was shown to be proud of Magnus in the book. Coincidence? I think not!

And there was Azazel, who gave weapons to man. His punishment? To be chained up in Dudael.

Enoch 10:6 "Again the Lord said to Raphael, Bind Azazyel hand and foot; cast him into darkness; and opening the desert which is in Dudael, cast him in there."

What's interesting is that the angel was Raphael. Raphael is an archangel who only appears in apocrypha books of the Bible, which is Enoch and Tobit. He also appears in Paradise Lost.

And then there's this quote, which really caught my eye. It's Enoch 94:3, "The righteous shall not fear the wicked; because God will again bring them into your power, that you may avenge yourselves of them according to your pleasure."

First, the word "wicked." And then the use of righteous made me think of a certain quote from Asmodues in TRSM, on page 308, "He was born to righteousness, and you were born to night everlasting." The eldest curses being the dark mirror of the Shadowhunters seems likely.

The word "wicked" is also used a lot in the Book of Enoch.

The Book of Enoch also deals with an order of angels called the "Grigori."

According to a passage from the Shadowhunter's Codex, the Silent Brothers are occasionally called this. But it's mainly archiac. Still interesting, though.

A lot of the fallen angels in this book were chained up, not just Azazel. Which made me think of the quote that started off The Lost Book of the White.

"And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains in darkness into the judgment of the great day." - Jude 1:6

@patalliumapples summed it up pretty well when she said, "ok so in stupid terms god has angels that defied him and left where they belonged chained up to wait for the day of judgement."

Like as if it had the same effects as the Sventhorn . . . As if Hell is a prison for demons. So what the eldest curses are used to free Lucifer, as they turn into the demonic giants of themselves.

Under the influence of the Sventhorn, in one of Magnus's dreams, he dreamt he was a giant.

Also in one of @foxglove-airmid's flower card analysis on Tessa, apparently her flower (red verbena) has some associations with Lucifer. It's said to be powerful enough to summon Lucifer. Tessa is also an eldest curse.

That's all I have right now, but feel free to add more.

[normal-thoughts-official]

I would have loved to see more interactions with the seelies- people who can’t lie but are crafty and secretive sounds fascinating. Think of the dialog! Alec going to magnus for advice since he has centuries of experience talking to them, Alec playing mental chess while trying to maintain peace. Would have loved getting more- but let’s be real, Cassaundra and the show writers weren’t clever enough to actually make any conversations like that of value.

SAME!!!!! honestly i would have loved to see so much more of the seelies. like bro do you understand that their culture predates the VERY EXISTENCE OF HUMANITY??? they are the ONLY kind of downworlders whose culture is completely detached from any human culture, not only because of predating it, but also because of the relative isolationism - which means human culture barely had any influence on their culture and history AS it developed

so like you can literally go fucking bonkers??????????? you can make ANYTHING. they have a whole ass society that doesn't have to have ANY ties to mundane concepts or history AT ALL. complete creative freedom. you could do ANYTHING! and don't get me started on the potential this has, within storytelling, to contextualize a lot of stuff modern western culture sees as natural or timeless as actually pretty fucking specific - like monogamy, cisheteropatriarchy, the gender binary, racism. all immortals have that potential of course since they can come from an array of different cultural and historical backgrounds but seelies in particular have SO much potential that is NEVER! FUCKING! USED! it all goes to waste and they are just a generic vaguely monarchic society that behaves literally exactly as modern western cultural standards. WHY. i'll never stop being salty, especially within sh where all this potential was there and instead they just villainized the seelies like no tomorrow for nO FUCKING REASON, and included a whole plotline about their ruler being a terrible power-hungry person and then proceeded to act as if that would have no influence on the seelies under her rule? thanks for nothing

like i know the seelie queen was so badly written that her own motivations even as a power-hungry wacko didn't make sense or were consistent (like why give simon the mark of cain for example, and for god's sake what kind of power-hungry crazy bitch gives their main enemy the power to literally kill her and destroy everything she has at the blink of an eye, like??? she literally tried to assist in her own genocide, it makes no fucking sense, i fucking hate it here) but if they are going to make her Terrible the least they could do was show how that impacted the people under her rule, especially if they are going to have meliorn be fucking tortured and either forced to display the marks of said torture or choosing to display them themself, like? please give your plotlines one singular thought

but of course it's easier to villainize seelies and reduce them to their obviously tyrannical ruler so they can go back to focusing on the shadowhunters and their issues. nevermind the fact that seelies are obviously equivalent to native ppls/third world countries resisting colonialism/imperialism in sh's stupid ass racial metaphor, which makes making their ruler a big bad unequivocally evil villain that is ruining everything A Choice. and a particularly choicy Choice considering they cast a middle-eastern man to play the most important seelie character. but if they are going to do that they could at least address how the people under her rule suffer and how that's a direct consequence of shadowhunter colonialism and interference, but why would we fkcnig thdo that!!!! when we can have love triangle drama or whatever

and tHEN there is the whole aspect of being unable to lie which is bound to have such an impact on their culture and history since they have to rely on other forms of communication to protect themselves - and considering the whole "tyrannical rule" plotline, to further the queen's agenda in the first place. and how telling the truth without preamble would probably be considered a huge display of trust in a society that has culturally developed so many ways of talking around things. like again the potential of the cultural and historic background for that society! it makes me go insane!!!

anyway all of that to say #JusticeForSeelies and #SeeliePlotlinesNow 2021 and forever. and YES i would have loved to see more interactions between them and other characters, particularly magnus because 1- admittedly i'm a hoe; and 2- magnus was clearly the one that had the most experience talking to seelies and that others relied on for that communication. he also seemed to be the most comfortable with them, which indicates there is either some sort of history there, or magnus just happens to feel relatively at home with the workings of their culture. which makes sense, because magnus also had to develop pretty similar defense mechanisms due to his, A- work as a warlock representative who has to interact with shadowhunters on the regular; B- history with having to deal with asmodeus, which required him to be very smart about what he disclosed and how, especially considering that he had to have been planning banishing asmodeus for a long time before he got to do it; and C- just history with abuse in general. we've seen the way he closed his heart off to new people; but at the same time, magnus is obviously an extrovert and likes to be around people in general. this meant that, in order to be able to both be in the kind of environment where he thrives and protect himself/his heart/his feelings, he had to learn how to interact with people while putting on a convincing façade, which requires pretty much the same sorts of wordplay and defense mechanisms that seelies use

magnus is good at wordplay, he's good at using talking to his benefit; we've seen that. he is also good at hiding and deflecting. he is notably not good at directly lying - every time he directly said A Lie such as "i am perfectly fine and not bothered by this at all :)" it was way less convincing than it was a clear display that he wouldn't budge. even alec, who has difficulty with social cues, noticed the lying and seemed concerned about it. so like. clearly his defense mechanisms were less lying and more dancing around subjects, directing conversation to safe topics, and guiding people to making certain assumptions and seeing sides of his that were safer and he preferred

so in that way it makes sense that magnus is somewhat in his element when dealing with seelies. i think "comfortable" is a strong word because this whole song and dance takes a huge toll on anyone's mental health and energy (which i think is something that could be very interestingly explored in seelies, their collective psyche, and their culture, the way they build relationships, etc. let meliorn have partners they feel 100% comfortable talking without preamble with 2k21), but it's something he is used to and a dynamic he can fall into without as much effort as others who would be second guessing themselves more and going slower, which clearly gives the seelies, who are used to it, an advantage

and like i know that i'm implying a confrontation or sort of situation where they are on opposing sides to seelies here, which i kind of am because i am thinking mostly about magnus' interactions with the seelie queen specifically, since she was the seelie he had the most meaningful interactions with. his interactions with meliorn were very few and almost never relevant, i barely remember them happening outside of generic downworld cabinet interactions tbh. but i don't just mean that because again, stop villainizing seelies 2k21

i also mean just generally that magnus would be in a more comfortable position talking to seelie strangers and slowly working into building a relationship and mutual trust. and just generally understanding them and the workings of their culture because he can empathize with the way they have built their social defense mechanisms. no one is 100% truthful to strangers, but seelies always seem kind of- analytical. and the cultural difference + anti-seelie racism makes them seem untrustworthy to most people, but magnus Gets It, so the potential for friendships! and the mutual understanding and the relative comfort around each other! and both parts understanding the enormity that is letting their walls down gradually and being more direct as time goes by. like.... aaaaaa

and yes magnus becomes a sort of reference on talking to seelies, mostly because he is good at "playing their game", but also making it a point to humanize seelies and making the other parts understand where they are coming from and how they feel :) and just improving their relations, particularly with other downworlders

im not going to get into alec because 1- the relationship between shadowhunters and seelies is already filled with oppression and a lot of complications, and particularly now that the seelie realm is politically fragile due to the loss of their ruler (however terrible she might have been), it would play into either white savior narratives or just straight up colonialism, especially given how alec as a leader already has a history of trying to build tutelage over downworlders (i don't care what his intentions were, it's still true, and although he's learning... well. he's learning, continuous action); 2- that would be more a relationship of opposition and i'm not that interested in that. but i would love to see seelies rebuilding themselves and their relationships and alliances with other downworlders particularly, and all the better if magnus is playing a part in that :)

in short:

more seelies

more magnus with seelies, especially friendships

more focus on the politics of seelies now that the seelie queen is gone

more seelies

more seelies

more seelies

[purplebass]

TLH Parenting Style Analysis: Blackthorn Family

This is the first essay about the parenting style of the TID characters in TLH. I wanted to write a post with all of the main TSC families, but I realized it would have been super long, so I decided to make a post per family. I will do this in alphabetical order, which means that the first family I’ll cover will be the Blackthorns. The next post will be about the Carstairs family.

Carstairs Family 

TW: mentions of death, mentions of abuse/assault, mentions of trauma

Blackthorn Family: Authoritarian Parenting

This is a single-parent family with Tatiana Blackthorn as the “authority”. Benedict Lightwood, Tatiana’s father, ate her husband Rupert Blackthorn. When she married Rupert, Tatiana was 16-17, while he was 23. From what we know from Clockwork Princess (Tatiana’s first appearance), it was not a love marriage, but a convenience marriage. Tatiana might have liked her husband, but from what we can gather based on her scenes, she agreed to marry so she could make her father happy and proud. Sadly, her husband died young, and she has been a single mom from the start. The only connection she still has to her husband is her son Jesse, although that connection is weak because he is dead and we don’t know if he will be revived. Then there is Grace, whom we know she adopted because her parents died when she was rather young. She raised her children away from the other shadowhunters, thus they grew up without knowing the world nor interacting with other children their age but themselves. 

Both Jesse and Grace have been emotionally manipulated by Tatiana. She likely brainwashed them in order to keep them in line. We can clearly see that Grace is not the heartless girl she may appear. She acts like this because Tatiana probably used a warlock or another powerful person to force Grace to do whatever she wanted. Grace herself said that she was Tatiana's blade Tatiana. She is compelled to act the way she does both because of subjugation and of a sick loyalty (no wonder the Cartwright’s motto is: Loyalty binds me). This “loyalty” I’m talking about is not loyalty in the proper sense. People who have been emotionally manipulated by their parents tend to indulge in their parents’ manipulation because they believe that their parents would stop loving them if they don’t do what they say. Tatiana adopted Grace after her parents died. Without counting the possible spell she might be under, Grace may feel like she has to do what Tatiana asks of her in order to show her that she is grateful that she was taken in. Grace is just a means to an end to Tatiana, and we see that she is trying to disentangle herself from her.  

We don’t know the extent to Jesse’s manipulation. Tatiana has surely sheltered him from the world and told him how awful (according to her) the other shadowhunters are. So Jesse has grown to dislike them, because he couldn’t see for himself if his mother was right or not. In the seven years Jesse has been dead, supposing that his ghost!self is like his alive!self, he has had more time to be free and “check” if his mother told him the truth. We’ve had a few occasions in which Jesse was surprised that Will was a caring father or that Lucie knew about the worm story. During these seven years, he might have recovered a little from his years of manipulation, like Gideon and Gabriel (sort of) did. Unless his ghost self doesn’t remember about the manipulation or the way he behaves with Lucie is itself a form of manipulation. His mother ordered him to deceive Lucie? He has snark, but he’s also a submissive type. Jesse’s emotions may also be muted in his ghost!self, since he’s living half a “life”. Emotional manipulation is something that takes time to fade away, even when the person/people who manipulated us have died. 

Tatiana is an authoritarian parent. She is strict, gives rules that her children must follow. She may also punish them if they don’t comply. For all we know, she might have mistreated Grace and Jesse and used violence, and Jesse might have died because of something Tatiana did. Like I said above, Grace may also be a tool to use to hurt the ones who killed Benedict. The authoritarian parent never explains why the child has to do that. Tatiana’s agenda stems from revenge. She is using her children as tools for her own revenge. This doesn’t mean Tatiana doesn’t love Grace and Jesse, but she had several issues that she transmitted to them. It’s a twisted kind of parental love. She may be thinking she’s doing only what’s best for their future, not realizing that she’s harming them, especially their mental health. The children of authoritarian parents may have low self-esteem. Tatiana was the daughter of an authoritarian parent as well.

Tatiana has PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). She saw her father and husband die, and she couldn’t grieve because she had a child a few months later. But it’s not just that. Tatiana was already scarred because of her mother’s premature death, and she was left in the care of a father who didn’t care about her in the sense that he didn’t show her love the way she expected him to. He cared for her in the prospects that she may marry into a powerful family and make a strong alliance. Tatiana, as we recall, did not have proper training, which means her father was also a misogynist who believed the only good his daughter could do to him was linking his family to another with equal (if not strong) power. Benedict has always regarded his sons on a different scale than Tatiana.

Her brothers were the ones who ultimately raised Tatiana and Gabriel especially, was very paternal and protective with her. The trauma of losing her mother made Tatiana seek validation from her father Benedict, and her marriage to Rupert Blackthorn was one of the several things she did in order to achieve that. She wanted her father to tell her: “you did well, I’m proud of you. You made the Lightwood name great,” but she never could, because Benedict had already turned into something else. That complicated Tatiana’s daddy issues even more, but to her, it also damaged the respectable Lightwood name in the shadow world. Her father made her believe that appearances were more important than truths, but when we see the way she’s lived until now, I guess she doesn’t care about appearances anymore. She cares more about keeping the appearances look the same way they did when Benedict and Rupert died. She’s been wearing the same blood stained dress for over twenty years. Chiswick is also rotting because no one is looking after it. 

Tatiana is still stuck in 1878, and so is her parenting style.

See you soon with the analysis on the parenting style of the Carstairs Family.