#shadowhunter magnus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

janescrazy · 11 months

Note

for the malec prompts thing: Reverse AU? (shadowhunter magnus x warlock alec)

I had to think about this one for sure. I’ve never read any reverse AU for malec. I wasn’t sure who to keep as shadowhunters or to switch everything. I hope you like it!

“The man is 200 years old, and we don’t have one high quality picture of him?”

Hodge gives Magnus an exasperated look and carries on with the presentation, “Alec Lightwood is High Warlock of Brooklyn. As Magnus blatantly put it, he is 200 years old, which is deemed young for warlocks. The fact he has this position shows how intelligent, resourceful, and clever he is. He’s dangerous and sharp as a nail. If we’re going to find him and interrogate him, we’re going to need to be smart about this.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, flipping his dagger between his painted fingers. He squints at the pictures on the screen, presumably the only four photos they have of this Alec. One is of a group of French and American soldiers, and many of them have their arms bandaged and blood and dirt on their faces. They’re standing in rubble and smiling goofily at the camera. There is one man in the back with his face turned, blood and guck dirtying his face. His black hair is long and disheveled with a beret on top.

Magnus has no idea how anyone found this picture, or narrowed down the identification of the soldier to be Alec Lightwood. Though, the man in the photo was staring off and had a way about him that differentiated him from the others. His body posture and the one side of his exposed face was calculating, showing an envious amount of knowledge and experience. Like he knew something everyone else didn’t.

The other photos are of him on the battlefield with only half his face, and then one is a faraway photo of him standing in front of the Titanic when it was still docked in England. There are a few question marks on that photo, but Magnus highly doubts this extremely smart man who avoids cameras and attention like his life depends on it would sink a ship.

“Why do we need to find him anyway?” Catarina asks beside Magnus.

“The Consul needs to know where the warlocks are with Valentine. More and more of them are disappearing, whether from Valentine kidnapping them for his experiments or they’re going into hiding,” Hodge explains with a sigh. He scratches his neck. “Magnus helped us out with knowing Clary. She didn’t say where Alec lives, but she slipped and said a group of them are meeting at Pandemonium.”

“So he may not even be there,” Ragnor dulls, rolling his eyes. He stands with a dramatic huff, patting his pockets for his seraph blade.

“It��s our best chance,” Hodge clips. “We’re leaving in thirty.”

*****

Magnus goes to Pandemonium on a weekly basis. He tells Robert and Hodge he goes there for researching purposes, but he knows they know that’s complete bullshit. He’s a people person. Always will be. He enjoys being surrounded with fun people and partying the evening and night away. He may be a shadowhunter, but he will never say no to a round of shots and dancing.

The first night he had gotten dirty looks when they saw his runes, and he was ignored by most of them. It was fine with him. He can get down with any crowd. He knew a few vampires, including Raphael who introduced him to a group of vampires and werewolves there. Once they realized he wasn’t there to interrogate or had any shadowhunter gear on, they slowly loosened up and treated him like one of their own.

Safe to say it was weird walking into the club with his gear and runes on display. His throwing stars are hitched on his hips and lower thigh, and they glow in the neon room. His normal acquaintances throw him second glances, hesitance and worry on their pensive faces. They step back, their backs straight and ready for anything as he walks by.

Magnus already lost Cat in the crowd, and he can count on her to scout out the suspects. The only details they have on the High Warlock are black hair, pale skin, and he is slightly taller than Magnus.

The shadowhunter eyes up the taller men, taking note of their clothes. The man has to have either a good or an old taste in clothes, since he’s lived many decades. He also has to be rich based on his age. One doesn’t live for a very long time without learning how to make profit.

Nobody fits the bill, and he’s walked the entire building. Cat finds him in the middle and informs him she’s leaving. The warlock is obviously not here, and they’ll have to get in contact with Clary again if she’s willing. Magnus spots her dancing with a blond boy, Jace. If he wasn’t dressed and armed, he would make sure to shove into him. He’s never been a fan of him, and he hates how he’s immortal and will be a pain in the ass for a long time to come.

Magnus waltzes over to the bar and orders a hard drink for his troubles. Everyone avoids his stare, and he even has to call for the bartender a few times to be serviced. He takes a seat next to a man in a rugged gray sweater. He’s slouched over his drink like he’s protecting it, and he’s got his chin in his hands. A hood covers his hair, and black tufts poke out from underneath. They’re unruly and fluffy, and Magnus really wants to run his fingers through it. The AC in the room blows at the stranger’s hood.

Magnus turns and throws the stranger a wide charming smile, and he makes sure to tongue the thin red straw that’s used to stir his drink. The bartender must not have wanted to be bothered again because his whiskey is stronger than he expects.

“Hi, handsome,” the shadowhunter drawls, placing his chin on his hand and fluttering his lashes. Yup, very strong drink indeed.

The man tenses and gives him a blank stare, and his hazel eyes look Magnus over. Magnus really wishes he brought another set of clothes, especially when the man responds with an unimpressed, “Hi.”

Magnus is not one to give up easily, and he turns his body to face the hot stranger. “What are you drinking?”

The man blinks, appearing to have remembered he had a drink in the first place. He must be sitting right underneath a draft because his hood moves subtly, and he reaches to adjust it. He thumbs his own straw, “I don’t know. Something Meliorn made me.”

Magnus hums, taking a glance at the man’s hands and how large they are. His fingers are long and have an admiring way about them. The alcohol is getting to his head. He treads a thin line when he moves his chair an inch closer, “I’ve been here a lot. Regular customer really. I bet I can guess your drink.”

The man’s mouth twitches in what Magnus hopes to be humor, “Regular customer is an understatement.”

Magnus gapes in humiliation, before realizing what the man just admitted. He throws the stranger a wicked grin, daring to pull a fake piece of a lint off the man’s shoulder. “So you’ve been keeping an eye on me, handsome?”

The man doesn’t answer him right away. Magnus wonders if he’s going too far with this and making the man straightly uncomfortable, but all he does is fidget and straighten his back when Magnus starts playing footsie with him. “You’re, uh, usually wearing more colorful clothing.”

Magnus grins like a cat, becoming more daring and toying with the hood. The stranger’s cheeks are pink and flustered, and he’s always been a sucker for blushing men who don’t know what to do with their hands. His hazel eyes linger over his face, taking longer at his lips.

Magnus chugs the rest of his drink, purposely allowing a few droplets to slide down his chin. The man watches it happen, and his full lips part completely mesmerized. Magnus licks his lips for good measure and stands incredibly close to him. Their shared body heat rises in temperature, and Magnus wishes he would take off his sweater.

He fiddles with a string he finds, eyes never leaving the man, “I can wear whatever you’d like, baby.” The man shivers at his words, pupils enlarging and chest heaving faster as if he’s never been approached so unabashedly before. Shame, really, he’s blushing so pretty.

“Your sweater is cute and all,” Magnus whispers loud enough for only them to hear. “I would much rather see you take it off.” Maybe he’s too tipsy for this because the moment he touches the hood, the man’s hand snatches his wrist firmly. He is about to apologize, but then the man reaches out with his other hand, caressing Magnus’s cheek and bringing their lips together.

The kiss is awkward at first, as Magnus is more than tipsy right now. But once the room stops spinning, he goes all in. He tilts his head, fitting their lips together better and tasting the peach rum on his lips. The flavor is heavenly, and he curses the angels before slipping his tongue into the deepening kiss. The man sighs into his mouth, and Magnus feels uncertain hands on his waist.

Magnus must have climbed into the stranger’s lap because he’s towering over him now. He runs his hands down his chest, feeling the defined muscle hiding underneath. He doesn’t even know this man’s name, but he wants this man under him or on top of him. He’s not picky, and he smells so enticing.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls. “None of that here. I don’t care who you are. You can’t have sex in my bar.”

The man immediately tries to pull away, and Magnus has none of it. He grabs a hand and pulls him out of the chair and towards a hallway. “This way. Come on, beautiful.”

The man obliges and as soon as they’re out of view down the hall, Magnus shoves him into the wall and kisses him. He hears a deep groan, and it makes his legs weak. He needs to hear it again.

Without thinking, he reaches up and tugs on the man’s hair. The man groans, as he runs his fingers through his hair and slightly yanks. The noises he gets in return is encouraging, and he reaches farther up until he feels soft fur.

Wait.

His focus drifts from the kissing to the mass of soft fur twitching under his fingers. He leans back, sliding the hood off the stranger’s head and freezes.

Two cat ears black as their owner’s wild hair twitch and flutter under his gaze. Feeling his staring, they shift and lay flat against his head, hiding entirely in his hair. Magnus thinks of his own cat, Chairman, who lives outside and occasionally feeds when he turns up.

What a precious look on a beautiful man, who pulls his hood back up with a scowl not aimed at Magnus. His cheeks are rosy red and his eyes are downcasted in shame. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to let this get that far. Here, I’ll just go-“

“No, no, honeybun,” Magnus stops him gently and cups his heated cheeks. He should really ask for his name. “You are more adorable than I originally thought. What a precious warlock mark. Do you like to have them scratched?”

“I, uh, I don't know-“

“Alec?”

Alaska in January has nothing on the ice that grows throughout Magnus’s entire body the second he hears someone say that name.

Jace stands in the doorway of the hallway, protectiveness showing in the guarded way he’s standing. Magnus turns back to Alec, who refuses to look at him.

“Oh my angels,” Magnus mutters and backs away with his hands up. He curses, “I was just molesting the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Shit.”

Alec’s face hardens, “So what, you worry about titles now? Would you not have approached me if you knew who I was?”

“No!” Magnus scoffs and freezes when Alec gets more pissed. “I mean, uh, shit. I don’t know. You mean you don’t want to hex me?”

“Did I give off that I wanted to hex you?” Alec asks, appalled and annoyed. His fists are clenched and little sparks of purple filter the area around his hand.

“Well…no,” Magnus weakly answers. He runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “No one knew what the High Warlock of Brooklyn looked like, at least no shadowhunter. I didn’t expect you to look the way that you do.”

Alec pinches his nose irritably, “I’m so sorry I didn’t meet your standards.”

“No! I mean,” Magnus sighs. He waves over Alec’s still form, “You’re adorable and cute. I didn’t think…”

“The one correct thing you’ve said tonight,” Jace cuts in. Magnus flips him off.

“Just,” Magnus groans and gets back into Alec’s space. Thankfully, the warlock lets him, but anger still swims in his hazel eyes ready to snap like a coiled snake. “Let me take you out? I really like you. Please let me fix this?”

“Like him? Did you have a conversation I missed somehow?”

Magnus flips Jace off, and Alec throws him a look. “Fuck off. Go be miserable somewhere else, guard dog,” Magnus growls.

“Excuse me?”

“Jace,” Alec scowls before taking a deep breath. “Go. I’ll be right there.”

Magnus smiles wide at Jace when he finally leaves. He turns back to Alec, and the smile turns genuine. “Please? You just surprised me. I do like you, and you’re very cute.”

Alec blushes and nods a moment later, “Fine. I’ll text you my address.”

Magnus watches him leave before calling out, “You don’t have my phone number.”

Alec waves his hand, forming purple swirls in the air. There’s a grin on his face when he answers, “I got it.”

**********

Please send more prompts :) im on a writing high

#malec #malec one shot #my writing #malec fic #malec oneshot #alec lightwood #magnus bane #reverse au #warlock alec #shadowhunter magnus

26 notes · View notes