#hell yeah babe

My trans ass: 🏳️‍⚧️ 🕺🕺🕺🏳️‍⚧️

He’d been both surprised and… not surprised when Alexander, newly appointed Inquisitor, had asked him to take the position. Surprised because the position had not previously existed; not-surprised that Alec had asked him. Of course, Alexander had been entirely professional, citing his references, et cetera, to prove that he wasn’t acting out of favoritism towards his husband (to which, Magnus had no doubt. He was very talented and the Clave owed him quite a bit -- but that’s another story--) while Magnus just gazed at him fondly before reaching across his desk and pulling his husband -- His Alexander -- in for an “I Accept” kiss.

Now, he looked over his new city, the place that had previously been so unwelcoming to him and his kind, that he now presided over, and would maybe, one day, call home.

A cool breeze swept over him, ruffling his silk lounge shirt as his eyes roamed: the cold, glowing monoliths, strategically placed throughout the Nephilim’s city; the strangely blue sky, saturated even in the darkness of twilight.

Opposite the balcony where he stood was the home of the Clave. Whether it was also considered an Institute, he had yet to find out. Well. He’d had ample opportunity, but whenever any nephilim -- outside of his family -- spoke of such matters, he usually tuned them out. He’d ask Alexander when he got home.