#i wish Alec could see it’s not his fault but the guilt is so strong

[im-out-of-it]

part five of season 2, episode 5 LEAVE ALEC BE “dust and shadows”

90. I know I know I keep going on about Alec’s pain but it’s basically what he goes through rarely seem to matter.

91. clary is like fuck this shit, I’m out. I guess I don’t need my mother back (gif is from earlier and surprise surprise I forgot)

92. iris: BITCH YOU THOUGHT

93. I mean isn’t that what Valentine did? Iris, you aren’t as original as you think you are

94. also did I post these? well I’m posting them anyways

95. Alec always protecting clary even when she doesn’t deserve it. she is in this situation because of Jocelyn and before then, because Jocelyn didn’t share anything with clary

96. ugh not consenting to birth. but this is better than the incest shit and everything else CC wrote

97. Alec: talk to me (he’s so gorgeous and isn’t he calm??????)

98. I would tell him everything but I mean, how could you say no to this face 🥹

99. Alec: don’t mess with me

100. LEAVE ALEC BE HES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH

101. Iris is more afraid of Valentine but I would be scared of Magnus. Magnus is sweet, loyal, and gentle with Alec but he’s also one of the most strongest and powerful warlocks out there. Valentine has men do his torturing most of the time but Magnus can literally send you through a portal. Camille is one of the oldest vampires and Magnus just sent her through a portal and anger runs in Magnus’s blood so ya best be careful

102. madzie: nana no that’s my new friend (cut Alec some slack please)

103. I hope this was all worth it clary

104. and trust me, I’m trying to be as sympathetic as I possibly can but I can’t stand Jocelyn and clary. and they don’t care how their actions affect others and Alec is literally out here suffering and feeling so guilty for shit he didn’t have any control over while jace and clary don’t care what they do to Izzy and Alec and they have control over that

105. well, we found clary

106. guess I forgot this Simon moment

107. I’ll never understand giving this rune ability to clary. it’s the same in every fantasy series: a bland girl who thinks she’s normal gets super powers and has all the men fighting for her and is one of the most toxic narcissistic characters out there. oh and everyone is desperate to save her! would’ve been much better to give to Alec or Izzy. plus they act better and could handle a darker versions of themselves better but I’m biased so whatever

108. yeah let’s not trust Alec or Izzy because it’s not like they haven’t saved our asses too many times to count and would do anything for us

109. okay so the Simon eating rat part happens at the end and I uploaded it way before

110. MY POOR ALEC IN SO MUCH PAIN

111. bye Jocelyn

112. I can’t remember if I did these

113. I have the worst brain for this lmao

114. and I don’t feel bad for Jocelyn dying. I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care

115. she literally knew the consequences of handing that stone to Alec and all she cared about was finding clary. literally almost everything that has happened is because of Jocelyn jace and clary and Alec had to pay for basically all of that. and no one really seems to care in season one how they treat Alec

116. everything jace and clary do is accepted but how dare Alec and Izzy do anything for themselves and snap when they’ve had enough

117. I honestly forgot luke existed

118. I don’t know why he really loved her that much- she was lying to him about so much. and they never seemed to have any chemistry

119. any normal person would be sad about Jocelyn but she was a terrible person and just as bad as clary

120. literally almost no one seems to care what Alec has gone through or really Izzy or Magnus. it’s always got to be about clary and jace 24/7. literally Magnus sacrifices so much in season three and jace acts so fucking ungrateful. I’m just glad to be done with this episode so Alec can stop feeling so guilty because it was out of his control

and that’s it for this episode. 120 is the number and thank you for joining LEAVE ALEC BE AND CLARY DOESNT DESERVE ANY GIFTS NEITHER DOES JACE discussion post. I’m am so fucking bloody psyched that the next episode is the first date. y’all have no idea how looking forward I have been to do that one. I’ll try to start that one later today but see y’all soon ✨

I also forgot to post this Alec one because he’s always valid (how i feel about clary) (don’t trust the hoe never trust the hoe) (I couldn’t resist)

and this is season 2 Alexander count: 1

THE FIRST FUCKING DATE IS NEXT YALL

[mollymauk-teafleak]

and when it’s hard i'll place your head into my hands

Adzri, Alec and Seregil's daughter, falls ill with a summer fever, sending both of her fathers frantic. Even as Alec tries to be strong, he realises it's stirring memories he'd thought he'd buried

Please leave a comment on Ao3 and reblog if you like this! And I’m always accepting requests!

------

Alec didn’t need the talímenios bond to read the anguish on Seregil’s face as soon as the chamber door closed behind them. It only meant he felt it too, a roiling, panicked pressure to thrash in his chest next to his own.

“Talí…” he murmured gently, moving immediately to hold him, “It’ll be alright.”

Seregil’s body moved to be held and hold in return but there was something mechanical about it, some missing part that made it clear his mind was elsewhere. Probably back behind the door they’d just closed, lost in the sickly miasma of illness that had invaded their daughter’s bedroom.

“Valerius said the poultice would help her breathing,” he mumbled, distress cracking the edges of his voice, “He said.”

“I know. And it will, given some time to work,” he put a confidence he didn’t truly feel in his voice, knowing his lover needed to hear it.

It had been harrowing, their little five year old girl crying fitfully at the dull green paste of crushed herbs applied to her chest, only able to sob weakly and croak that it was burning her nose. Seregil had turned away at one point, shoulders tight and tense as he faced the thick, dense summer night outside the window, leaving Alec to finish the job, murmuring soothingly to Adzri as best he could. Watching her cry herself back into a feverish sleep, still not understanding why he wasn’t listening to her had completed the breaking of his heart.

“She’s hurting, Alec,” Seregil whispered, voice raw, and if there had been any part left unshattered, those words did it.

“It’s just a summer fever, talí, I promise. It will break and she’ll be right as rain, back to running around and making our lives absolute chaos.”

The attempt at humour landed as thinly as it had sounded. They were both keenly aware that, for some, the old and young and vulnerable, summer fevers didn’t just fade. They burned and consumed the person from the inside out, racing their heart until it simply couldn’t hold any more. And while Adzri was hale and healthy, as robust as any child with scarecrows like Seregil and Alec for fathers could be, she was frighteningly young.

Alec had been holding himself together as much as he could since Adzri had started to flag just a few days earlier, starting to hack and cough and vomit in the night, as her skin turned a burning red, he’d told himself that Seregil needed him to be strong every bit as much as their daughter did.

But every time he closed his eyes, he felt like a boy again, watching his father waste away and not being able to do a bloody thing about it. The fear he tasted on his tongue was wretchedly familiar.

He shoved the thought roughly away and focused on Seregil, his tense shoulders and how he trembled in his embrace. He couldn’t fall apart now, not with his talímenios about to break in front of him.

“Come, love, you need to rest,” he whispered, kissing his cheek which tasted of salt.

That was terrifying in itself, a bitter counterpoint to the fear on his tongue. He could count on both hands the amount of times Seregil had shed tears in front of him. Though it was an increasing count, since the winter morning when he’d held her for the first time and promptly burst into tears in front of everyone in attendance, most of whom had known him for decades and had never once seen him cry.

“We should have stayed in Bôkthersa,” Seregil murmured, bitter guilt heavy in his voice, “She never once got sick when we were there and then as soon as we came back here…”

Alec sighed, again not needing the bond to feel what his lover was feeling. They’d been welcomed back to Bôkthersa with open arms, tears and relief so their daughter could be born where Seregil had been, in the same room no less, and they’d lived there for some time until she and Alec were strong enough to make the sea journey back. They’d managed to feel like a family, like part of the clan and that shared history. They’d even had a small ceremony, just amongst Seregil’s immediate family, finally making good on the promise held within the rings they’d been wearing, the promise to live as husbands no matter what the law said.

But the sweetness of those long, sunny years only made saying goodbye again even harder. And Seregil was acutely aware that they had to leave because of him, because of the mistakes that still haunted him even after so much hard won change. There was only so much time they could spend as Bôkthersans before other faie would take notice, before they would be reminded of the severing that had taken place. And there was no guarantee it would be a polite reminder.

“Rhíminee is our home,” Alec said gently, wishing more than anything he could pull out the knife of guilt Seregil still felt in his side, “We had to come back some time. Seregil, please, don’t think this is your fault.”

Seregil sighed, eyes far away, both of them well aware he wouldn’t make a promise to his love that he couldn’t keep, “I should stay by her...in case she wakes up…”

“You have been, talí,” Alec reminded him, “For three days straight. And Valerius was just as clear in his instructions for you as he was for Adzri.”

“He said to check her temperature regularly!” Seregil protested, even as the shadows under his eyes looked hollow in the candlelight and his eyes struggled to focus.

“I’ll do it,” Alec said firmly, “I slept last night, it’s your turn now. You promised me, Seregil.”

Beaten, Seregil wavered, though his eyes shone in the candles they’d left burning through the long hot nights as the house had stayed restless.

“I know, my love,” Alec moved up to cradle his face in his hands, “Believe me, I know. But you can’t help her by running yourself into the ground. You’ve done all you can, now we have to wait, as painful as it is. And you may as well do it by getting some sleep.”

Seregil took a shaky breath, now leaning into Alec’s warmth, letting himself take the comfort now with full awareness, “I just can’t bear it. Seeing this hurt her and knowing we can’t fix it.”

“Because we love her,” Alec nodded, resting their foreheads together, “And that’s going to get her through this.”

Seregil nodded slowly, “Very well...I’ll sleep but you’ll wake me at dawn? Or if anything changes?”

“Of course,” Alec promised, sending him off to their chamber just next door to Adzri’s with a last kiss, “I love you, talí.”

“I love you too,” Seregil murmured softly, eyes still sad and worn as he closed the door but there was a slight glimmer of hope under it all, one he’d managed to put back there.

Alec’s relief and triumph lasted all the way until their chamber door closed and he heard the sound of his husband sinking, fully clothed into bed. And then there was nothing but fear in its wake.

He was silent as he stepped back into his daughter’s bedroom, not wanting to wake her, and slid back into the chair that had been keeping an anxious vigil by her bedside since she took ill. It was dark, they’d extinguished all the candles and drew the curtains after it became clear the light was hurting her eyes, but it was only a few moments before his eyes found shapes in the shadows.

She was so beautiful. He was struck by that thought so much, even after years of being her father. Of course the first thing he always saw in her face was Seregil, just as his talímenios always claimed to see him. It was the long, thin nose and the sharp angles that he saw, the messily falling dark curls, the intelligence in her eyes. Though her eyes were closed now, her cheeks red with the fever, her breathing shallow and raspy, a hollow sound in the heavy shadows. Her little chest barely rose and fell, there was hardly movement in the blankets they’d wrapped her in as she lay in the middle of her little bed.

In the silence, pierced by that awful sound of illness that Alec dreaded hearing but dreaded not hearing even more wholly, he couldn’t keep the memories away anymore. Once again he was a much younger man and the shape in front of him wasn’t his daughter. The laboured breathing was deeper but no less sickly, whistling through a much older chest. And instead of the heavy, oppressive heat of a Rhíminee summer, it was so, so cold, a bleak Northern winter.

Once again he was sixteen and he was watching his father die.

All alone and without his husband to comfort, the creeping sense of helplessness set in. Here again was something he couldn’t shoot or snare or beat back with a sword, something invisible and malicious and omnipotent, sliding out one of the linchpins of his life and leaving him reeling. Once again he felt small and naive, an insignificant speck in the middle of a white, empty forest, tears freezing on his cheeks as he vainly tried to light a fire, unable to get so much as a spark.

And suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

Not her too, he begged silently, as tears began to slide heavily down his cheeks, please, not her too.

All the growing he’d done, the love he’d found, the battles he’d won, what did it really mean if he couldn’t save the people he cared about?

“Alec?”

He jumped, suddenly unaware of how much time had passed, how long he’d been sat in his daughter’s bedroom and in the middle of a Northern forest at the same time, as both a terrified child and a terrified father. But Seregil was in the doorway, easier to see than he should have been at night. Some pale, grey light was filtering through behind him, light that had to be dawn’s.

“Seregil,” he croaked, voice cracking with disuse.

“Oh, talí…” Seregil kept his voice soft but the emotion in it was obvious as he moved towards him, putting his hands on Alec’s shoulders, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think once how this must be making you feel, given everything.”

Whether it was the bond or his panic attack had been that obvious on his face, it was clear Seregil knew what was going on in his mind.

“We’ve both had a lot on our minds…” he murmured, shaking his head, Seregil blaming himself the last thing he wanted, “Adzriel…”

“I should have thought,” Seregil insisted, “I should have comforted you rather than just…”

“Talí, please no,” Alec turned, needing his eyes to find his lover’s, “You could just as easily say I should have told you. And you needed me then, I’m never going to regret giving you comfort when you needed it.”

Seregil let it go but his eyes were still concerned. He did look like he had at least gotten some sleep, his hair was matted on one side and the shadows under his eyes had lessened.

“You don’t talk about your father much, talí,” he murmured, still keeping his voice low, to not wake Adzri, and his tone careful.

Alec shifted, biting his lip slightly, “I...I know I must make him sound cold but my whole childhood, he was the only constant. Some days it would feel he was the only other person in the world. He...he was my world.”

Seregil nodded slowly, hand gently stroking over his hair.

“And watching him die was...difficult,” it wasn’t a large enough word for it but he couldn’t find a right one in the moment, “And afterwards, until I met you, I felt so alone. And now, seeing her like this, it…”

His throat closed again, not in the tight, frozen panic way of before, but in the more natural way of tears being released.

“Because she’s my world too. And I don’t know what I’m going to do if I ever lose her.”

Now it was Seregil’s turn to hold him, his arms strong and safe around his shoulders as he cried quietly against his stomach. He didn’t need much, strange for years of hidden hurt, but Alec was glad the quiet shuddering had stopped so he could hear what happened next.

“Papa? Daddy?”

Both of them immediately jumped as if poked with a sword, whirling around. Adzri sat up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. Her voice was still a little raspy but she hadn’t been so alert in more than a day, her eyes so wide and aware.

“Sweetling,” Alec gasped, lurching forward to feel her forehead. Damp and clammy but perfectly cool.

“Oh, Adzriel,” Seregil moved to sit at her feet, eyes wide with relief, “Oh, look at you. How do you feel?”

“Thirsty,” she decided after some thought, her chubby little hand moving under her nightdress to her chest, where the poultice had dried and cracked, “Itchy.”

“Of course,” Seregil laughed, taking her in his arms and holding her tight, “Breakfast and a bath, then. You can have whatever you want.”

Adzri blinked, smiling hopefully, “Cake?”

“Sure,” Seregil shook with either relieved weeping or helpless laughter, even he seemed unsure, “Why not? Cake for breakfast. Aura knows we’ve earned it.”

Alec smiled, taking a moment to watch them both and let the relief course through him and chase the last of the fear away, before he moved in to share the embrace.

He hadn’t seen Amasa smile often, only on the brightest of autumn mornings or when Alec landed a shot or upon hearing the first of the starlings singing. But he could well imagine he was smiling now.

[sugarandspace]

Torn

Summary:  Jace's thoughts in the infirmary after 3x10.

AO3

Jace stands at the doorway and stares at the scene in front of him. He can’t take his eyes away from his unconscious parabatai and the bandage that’s wrapped around his chest.

Jace is seconds away from fleeing the room, of running as far away from Alec as he can go. He doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve to be near Magnus who gave up so much only to come back to witness Jace sinking an arrow to Alec’s chest. Jace should be far away from them both, somewhere he can’t hurt anyone.

But at the same time, he needs to stay. He needs to see with his own eyes that Alec is fine, and he needs to stay in case something goes wrong and he has to help. He’s not sure how he could help, but he’s not going to abandon Alec. He needs to be here.

So he stands at the doorway, tense as a board and guilty beyond measure. There’s a constant fight going on in his mind about whether to leave or stay, so he remains at the doorway, where he’s able to see Alec but as far away from him as he can be.

Magnus is sitting next to the bed, holding Alec’s uninjured hand and whispering something to him. Jace can’t hear the words but he’s glad, he knows those words don’t belong to his ears anyway.

Jace doesn’t remember when was the last time he’s been this still. He doesn’t know how much time has passed or what time it is, all he knows is that he should probably feel tired. He should be tired and he should be sore but it all has been buried under the intense feeling of guilt. Guilt for almost killing Alec and guilt for killing all those mundanes and guilt for bringing Clary right to Lilith. They wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for him, and Jace wishes it would have been him instead of Clary, or it would have been him that was nearly killed on that alley.

Alec doesn’t deserve this, those mundanes didn’t deserve what they got, and Clary didn’t deserve what happened to her.

Jace doesn’t think there’s a punishment that would fit all his crimes.

He’s taken from his spiraling thoughts by a cough that comes from the bed. Jace focuses back to the present and sees that Alec is opening his eyes. Magnus is upright in a second, standing next to the bed, ready to help Alec if needed.

Jace feels glued to the floor and filled with nerves.

“Magnus,” Alec says quietly when he spots his boyfriend. Magnus nods, visibly relieved to see Alec awake and talking. The two talk in hushed voices for a while until Magnus steps to the side and turns to look at Jace, who Alec is also able to see now.

The urge to bolt from the room has never felt stronger.

“Jace,” Alec says.

Jace feels like crying.

When he doesn’t make a move to walk closer to the bed, Alec tries again.

“Jace,” he repeats. “Come here.”

Jace feels so torn and his legs refuse to move. He wants to go to Alec, but he also wants to leave this situation and hide somewhere where no one can find him and where he can curl up and let all these horrible thoughts finally take him over.

When Jace still doesn’t move, Alec tries to push himself up into a sitting position. He sucks in a sharp breath and grimaces after he has lifted himself barely an inch from the bed, and Magnus rushes to guide him back down.

Jace takes a step forward and reaches towards the bed, worried Alec will seriously hurt himself if he keeps moving.

Alec lies back down but keeps looking at Jace, and he reaches his hand towards him.

“Please.”

And who is Jace to deny Alec anything after what he’s put him through?

The guilt feels so strong Jace might very well throw up but he walks so he’s close enough to hold Alec’s hand, and Alec uses what little strength he has to pull him even closer. Tears well up in Jace’s eyes as he looks Alec in the eyes. He sees no judgement there, no anger, or blame.

“It’s okay,” Alec says. Jace goes to pull his hand away and step back but Alec holds tighter. “Jace, it’s okay.”

And that’s when the tears fall.

Jace isn’t even worried that Magnus is there with them, witnessing him at his weakest. He doesn’t care, because he can see it in Alec’s expression and hear it in his words that he truly means what he’s saying.

It does very little to lessen the guilt Jace feels, but it means the world to hear that Alec doesn’t blame him.

He doesn’t feel like he can accept this easy way out Alec is offering, so he opens his mouth and takes a deep breath in before he speaks.

“Alec-”

“No,” Alec interrupts him. “We can talk more later, when we’ve both rested and had time to process things. But you need to know that I don’t blame you. I never could. None of what happened is your fault. What was done to you was awful, and I can’t even imagine how you must have felt, or how you feel now. But you need to know, Jace, my parabatai, that I don’t blame you. No one does. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner.”

Jace is shaking his head as Alec finishes his small speech.

“No,” Jace says, his voice sounding wrecked. “You don’t have to apologize either.”

Alec gives him a small smile.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m serious though. I’m not letting you deal with this on your own. I want to talk with you. Will you visit me tomorrow? After you’ve at least tried to sleep? You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Jace nods, not managing a smile even though Alec is trying to lighten the situation.

Alec squeezes his hand tighter for a moment before letting it go.

“Goodnight Jace,” Magnus says when Jace turns to leave the room. Jace turns back to look at him.

“You too,” he says. “You two should try to get some sleep too. And take care of him, will you?”

Magnus nods in reply, before sitting back to the chair that had been vacated after Alec woke up.

The urge to run and hide is still strong, but after the talk he had with Alec he doesn’t feel as hopeless. If Alec doesn’t hate him or blame him, there’s hope.

So he does as he promised and goes to his room, getting ready for a night that will most likely be plagued by nightmares.

[symphonic--chaos]

@khaleesiofalicante :

My wishlist:  

I am not sure what exactly this means….But if it is about fanfics then I would love to read Magnus’ perspective of Rafe being adopted.

Also listed here on AO3

Without further ado:

It wasn’t that Magnus never wanted to be a father, it was that he’d gone so long without being one (he hoped, at least, that if he was one, someone would have said something), on top of the fact that both Asmodeus and his stepfather had been far from nominees for the Father of the Year award. Magnus didn’t know how to be a father, not to children at least. His grown children of the Underworld were something entirely different, they were stupid at times, careless, wreckless, but they still had sense. A sense of right, a sense of wrong, the guilt that followed when they did that wrong- it was easier to handle a mess that an adult made when you knew how to handle an adult.

Despite this, children were a light in his life. Pure, sweet, defenseless and so very inquisitive of the world, with such a huge opportunity to be taught such wonderful things, to see and be the good in the world. Max had come along during a time that made a relaxed, infinitely honeymoon-like life, chaotic, when he thought neither he nor Alec were ready to be fathers. They hadn’t even discussed it- but here they were, surrounded by the Lightwood family in an attic, Magnus being asked questions that made him doubt his previous thoughts of Robert being intelligent. Max was a little blue horned, chubby cheeked, grabby-handed baby who was given the chance to learn what true love was when Magnus finally, seemingly, caved to the will of the Lightwood’s wishes to adopt him into the family.

In reality, the decision came in one single night that week when he’d held him in his arms at 2am, his own golden cat eyes staring into the Mariana Trench blue ocean of the baby’s. A pang of some deep love he’d never known before had exploded in his chest when Max’s little lips had curled up in the slightest smile, his cooing of amusement filling their little area, barely masking Alec’s soft and steady breathing from the bed. Chubby fingers had wrapped around Magnus’s loose, dark locks of hair as Magnus hunched over, bare feet sliding effortlessly on the wooden floor as his thighs came closer to his chest, bringing the little one resting on them closer.

Two years of loving and basing his world around both Alec and Max had transcended him into someone he never would have imagined being. While he thought he couldn’t be more selfless or loving than what he’d given countless others, Max had made Magnus a whole new man. Max had brought about a new part to a world that had already been shaken to the core just by meeting Alec, one that had been cracked and split bit by bit from the agony of losing people he loved, by betrayal and hardship. Max was the kintsugi Magnus’s world had needed, Alec the vice to hold them together while everything was mended. Then, one night, there was him. Max was finally asleep after eight stories and a lullaby Magnus remembered from his youth in his homeland. Magnus had taken the utmost care to make sure the door shut without a single creak, groan or click, a relieved sigh heaved from the warlock’s chest as his hands released the door and handle. They lifted to run through the wild black and blonde streaked hair that he hadn’t bothered to style today, it could be just as ratty and homely looking as Alec’s sweatpants, which he wore under the robe he wore. They tightened the sash that held the robe shut as he turned away from the door, coffee and Alec the first things in mind, that is until he noticed the little boy in front of him. “Uhm… Hello?” Magnus said unsurely, his eyes flitting to the front door across the apartment, still slightly open from where he was assuming this small being came from. The boy stared up at Magnus, watching him through wide and excited eyes, eyes that seemed like they knew him already.

Magnus exhaled quietly as his fingers adjusted the robe once more, taking in all the tiny details of this… Beautiful child. A browner skin tone, definitely from somewhere with a lot of sun. A way he carried himself, with such a sense of pride and strength for such a little figure, Magnus had no doubt this was a Shadowhunter child. The fact that he’d gotten through Magnus’s wards and silently at that…  Maybe… “¿Hola?” Magnus said then, shifting to kneel in front of the boy, his long fingers moving to brush dark curls away. The boy didn’t flinch or shy away, Magnus noted, instead almost seeming to lean into the touch. The smile that came after the adjusted greeting had a soft ‘Ah. Alexander’ come in response, since he could only imagine that his love was back and he’d clearly been busy in the almost two days he’d been gone. “¿Cómo te llamás?” Magnus followed up with a soft smile, offering a hand in both greeting and a chance to hold if the boy wanted. “Rafael.” The boy said as his little nimble fingers reached out to rest in the long outstretched hand, a sudden shyness coming over the boys demeanor. Magnus’s heart stopped in his chest and a sharp breath was taken in at the name, feeling that involuntary prick of tears at the back of his eyes as the thought of Raphael came to mind. That sarcastic tone of voice, the rebellious nature, the way that he would always glare and swear but have the eternal looks of a 15 year old boy. Over 50 years Magnus had come to get used to it, accept it, come to see Raphael in some sort of way as a son to him, only to go through the agony of watching him die at Sebastian’s hand. He had tried to play off that moment so stoic, he’d selfishly only had Alec and his own life in mind. To this day he regretted nothing more than his last words essentially being ‘You owe me’. Five years may have been time for a person to cope at least somewhat over the loss of someone they loved, but to Magnus, seeing this boy, one with the same name- it brought back that sting. It took a moment of recovery, longer than Magnus would have cared to admit, the drop of smile and look of worry on the boys face had him shaking away the image of Raphael’s body slumped on the floor, locking those feelings, weak and all he could muster in the withering state he had been in the cell in Edom, far away into the vault he hid most things in his mind. A smile, albeit partially forced, graced Magnus’s face as he nodded and squeezed the boys hand gently, continuing their conversation in Spanish. “My name is Magnus, Rafael, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I once knew someone very strong and very brave by that name. I bet you are, too. Do you have a nickname you prefer, or shall we just go with Rafael?” Rafe, as the young one then requested, was a relief- certainly a way to bring down some of that pain every time he now thought of the name. “Well, Rafe, it’s late and you look like you’ve had a big day. What do you say we make up a room for you and you get a good night of sleep? We can even make medialunas in the morning if you’d like.” Though Magnus didn’t know of the ordeal the boy went through, the look of relief on his said that his assumption in having a long day was more than correct. Magnus’s long legs and torso had him dwarfing Rafe once he stood, yet his fingers never left their position wrapped securely around the smaller set equally clung to them. That pang he’d felt with Max was back, much faster than he’d experienced with his sweet little sapphire when they’d first met. Magnus wasn’t sure if this was due to being used to fatherhood now or if it was just something about the boy’s quick love of him, but he knew that this boy belonged in their home and his heart. A quick wave of his free hand towards a wall of the living room had a door forming from top to bottom, swinging open to an empty room to greet them. It was plain, boring by all means, but it was meant as a template for the boy at his side. Magnus wanted Rafe to be able to decorate it however he wanted, whatever way reminded him of home and made him feel like he was there, comfortable and safe. Crouching at Rafe’s level and waving his hand to the room, his voice echoed despite how quiet he spoke as his offer came to the amazed boy, who perhaps hadn’t seen a warlock at work before. “Rafe, I want you to think of home. Whatever you think, we’ll make this room and it will be all yours. Can you do that for me?” The boy looked considerate for a long moment before he nodded and looked to Magnus expectantly, waiting further instruction on how to describe it. Magnus of course didn’t expect what looked like a five year old boy to fully describe a room like the designers on mundane television shows, ones that went into minimal or boring homes and redid them to be extravagant and rich. “Close your eyes,” Magnus whispered, waiting for Rafe to do so before he placed a warm palm on Rafe’s forehead, his magic swirling around his hand and lacing in and out between his fingers.

“Got it!” Magnus flung his hand out as if he’d picked up a hot coal. The magic multiplied, spreading out throughout the room and traveling along the floor, walls and ceiling as Rafe’s eyes opened, widening in surprise and awe. The floors went from a dull grey to a rich, almost honey colored wooden floor, the walls from grey to a very plain and simple white. Surprisingly to Magnus, there was no windows in the room, though it looked like his magic was struggling to create one. Perhaps Rafael hadn’t decided on what he wanted it to look like, which was an easy enough fix. It was rather simplistic for a child his age, he almost would have expected it to be kidlike, with toys and bright colors.

What caught him off guard though, Rafael looking equally as inquisitive, was the cross on the wall above the bed that his own influence had conjured up in the room, along with the dressers and nightstand. “That is likely my fault, everything was always extremely religious when I lived in Latin countries.” Magnus reasoned with a shrug, glancing down to Rafe who nodded in understanding. When the air around them changed, at least to Magnus, signalling that Alexander had come into the apartment and was close to them, he was quick to smile at Rafe, saying in both Spanish and English as he snapped the cross away, “Let’s put away the cross for now, and talk about organized religion later. Let’s have a window, and let the light in. Do you like this one?” They had allowed the kids to stay up late that night due to the excitement and joy that their little family growing brought, and it wasn’t until Magnus looked down from his position laying on the couch that he realized that this night would be one he would never forget.

His fingers brushed gently through the jet black hair of his Alec, fast asleep with his head resting on Magnus’s stomach and his body along the rest of the couch. Max was also asleep, content and draped across Alec’s back as he drooled into the dark fabric of his daddy’s shirt. Rafe was tucked close, comfortably nested into the crook of Magnus’s protective arm with his head on the warlock’s chest, his body safe between Alec and the back of the couch. It was then the quick realization of how used to fatherhood he’d become thanks to the trial and error of raising Max the past two years making him confident enough that they would do just fine with Rafe in addition. “Welcome to the family, darling boy.” Magnus whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of Rafe’s head, his cheek leaning against it next as tired eyes finally drooped and he succumbed to sleep.

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 19/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev | Part 1

a/n: I just wanted to say that even though I generally am a failure at responding to any sort of comments, I do read them.  I just want to say thank you to anyone that has ever left me a comment, you’re lovely and I appreciate you.

Bill must have loved his wife.  At some point, he must have loved her.  He couldn’t have been enough of a bastard to marry a woman just because she checked a box that he needed checked.  

Sure, he was enough of a bastard to realize that he’d simply gotten bored of her.  He’d built up a tolerance to the comfort of a well-kept home; he’d grown resentful of her attempts to make him happy.  He’d blamed her for wanting more of his attention than he wanted to give; he’d punished her for his own guilt.

But before all that, when she was fresh, and new, and not yet resigned to the limited life he’d been willing to offer, he must have loved her.  He must have looked forward to seeing her face in the morning.  He must have slid his arm around her back, and leaned into her body in the kitchen.  They must have kissed like newlyweds over cups of steaming coffee.  He must have listened to her plans for the day; she must have told him to have a good day and that she’d miss him.

(It was just, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember that giddy, electric feeling of falling in love.)

Bill didn’t have a wife to kiss in the kitchen, but he had a hot cup of coffee from the new machine he’d finally purchased for himself.  His house was quiet as an empty church but he had his phone, and Alec’s early-morning-thoughts waiting for a response.

Alec said:  

What are grits?

They don’t pleasant to eat.

Who thought of that name?  Grits?

Is that description of the texture?  

I get to go to work today.  At least for a few hours.

There must have been a name for the sort of smile that reading those nonsense texts brought to his face.  Bill knew there was something ticklish, and dangerous wrapped up in the way he had started looking forward to waking up.  He didn’t want to put any words to anything; he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Bill sent back:

If you’re set on insulting grits, I’ll be forced to bring up blood pudding.

Or really anything that you might call pudding.

And then we’ll have to talk about haggis.

The anticipation of a future response kept a smile on his face all through getting dressed, and morning traffic.  It filled up his voice when he said hello to Betty and accepted his schedule for the morning.  It kept him company in his office, standing by the window, thinking that he really should get a plant sooner or later.

He really should be doing a good deal of things.  He should be looking for a new partner to fill the vacant role.  He should be interviewing divorce lawyers.  He should be coming up with a reasonable custody arrangement regarding his children, one that he was going to fight for.  (Because, removed of his own selfishness he did love his children.)  

His phone chimed from his pocket.  He was smiling even before he made it e through the lock screen to see the text waiting for him.  The conversation with Alec was still open on the screen, but the new message wasn’t from him.

No.

The message was from a phone number he’d memorized, but never programmed into his phone.  It sent a spike of something that felt like joy, and anger, and fear coursing straight through his body.  It left his hands clenching and his knees feeling just a bit wobbly, just for a matter of milliseconds. 

Bill didn’t open it.  He spun in a circle like the person that had sent it would be standing behind him.  He could imagine exactly what her expression would be, how neutral her smile would be.  How perfectly parted her hair always was.  He could almost smell the scent of her perfume-and-laundry soap.  There was the phantom ache of wanting that was so sudden and so sharp that he could convince himself nothing had changed at all.

But he was alone in the room.

It smelled like yesterday’s vacuuming and a fine layer of dust.  

Bill lifted the phone again. He steeled himself against hope-and-disappointment, and he opened the message.

I’ll be back to work next Monday.  I’d appreciate the chance to meet with you regarding a few necessary changes.

Oh hell.  If he’d been given a thousand years, Bill would never have been prepared to hear from Virginia ever again.  

--

Are you alright?

The text had been sitting in place for nearly a full forty-eight hours.  Hardy consoled himself that, should this be the end of something, he hadn’t lost much.  A great flurry of texts, and a bit less boredom in his day was all he’d gotten from this ongoing situation.

(But something had changed for Bill.  And maybe Hardy had sat like a silly old man and scrolled through everything he’d sent to the man in the past few days.  Maybe he’d tried to work out if poking fun at grits was something that couldn’t be forgiven.)

The long-long stretch of silence had left him restless.  It had aggravated a condition that he’d been ignoring.  While Broadchurch had been able to start the healing process (at least until the trial began), Sandbrook was still an ugly red wound in Hardy’s past.  

The Latimers knew what happened to their son; they knew who had done it.  They were able to bury their child with some idea that justice would be served.  And where justice wouldn’t do, they had enacted vengeance.  (Against Miller, who deserved it least.)

Sandbrook was an unanswered insult.

Sandbrook was a quickening of his tired heart.

He sat on his front porch, with his elbows digging into his knees, listening to the sound of the waves.  He kept his eyes closed, and his mouth hanging open to draw in the thick wet air.  He concentrated on clearing his mind of terrible memory of a little girl’s corpse left to rot in water.

He tried to unwind it from the memory of his wife, standing by a car, whispering: ‘you’ll kill yourself over this.’

Because Hardy wasn’t going to die before he’d finished.  If he kept his eyes closed, and he thought about it very hard, he could remember the details.  He sorted them out in his mind, rearranging them into familiar patterns.  There was an answer in the jumble, if he shook it enough times it would have to make sense.

The chime of his phone, left sitting inside on the counter, dragged him back out of the fog.  Hardy squinted out at the brightness of the sun sparkling on the water; he flexed his fingers to work off the chill.

Maybe he told himself that he wasn’t going to run inside to see if he’d finally gotten a response.  He told himself that he could make whoever was bothering him wait.  (He told himself that regardless of who it was, they deserved to wait.)

But Hardy was already getting to his feet, dragging himself up the few steps and through his door.  He found the phone in the kitchen and opened the screen to find that Bill had finally sent a response.

(And Hardy thought, he almost wished Bill hadn’t.)

The woman with whom I had an affair is coming back to work.

I loved her.

Yes, well.  Hardy had loved his wife and look how that had turned out.  Sometimes it wasn’t enough to love something; sometimes it just didn’t work.  Hardy was still trying to figure out how Bill felt about things when the phone chimed again.

I think I was happy before.  I haven’t been happy since I got her text.

Hardy frowned at his phone.  There was nothing to say, and still he had to say something.  

He sent: You don’t have to let her come back.

Bill said: It’s not her fault.  

It’s not always about whose fault it is.  

It’ll be fine.  We’re both adults, and I needed to hire new staff members for a while.  I’ll hire one, and she can hire one.  

That was the plan of a desperate man.  There was no telling if Bill wanted her back or didn’t.  There was no telling if he was trying to protect himself from her, or protect her from him.  Maybe it was the same thing between them.

All settled then.  Hardy sent.  So, I believe you still owe me an explanation about grits.

next >>

@it-is-ineffable, @marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @jiffry6969, @stardust-andwine

[bytheangell]

ELLE!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF???? ALEC GIVES MAGNUS THE CHOICE. HIM OR MAGIC. WHAT IF MAGNuS CHOOSES MAGIC. ELLE!!! WRITE THIS SO I CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT (okay that will absolutELY make it worse but do it anyway). (tried to do this from my SH blog but gUESS WHO CANT REMEMBER THE DAMN EMAIL SHE USED. IT MEEEE)

two sides of lonely - part one.(Read on AO3)(prompt based off of the 3x18 sneak peek. Lots of hurt. Zero comfort. This is your warning!)

Break his heart to save his life .

Alec wanted to say yes right then and there, willing to agree to anything Asmodeus asked of him - even losing the love of his life. No, not losing - giving up , because there’s a choice to be made now. Alec can give up Magnus to give him his magic back, or he can keep Magnus selfishly to himself and watch him live out the rest of a life he may never truly be happy in.

It isn’t much of a choice, not the way Alec sees it; but he doesn’t believe it’s his to make. He knows now better than ever that no matter how much he might think he’s doing what’s best for Magnus, there is a very real chance he doesn’t know the half of what’s going on inside his boyfriend’s head, or inside his heart.

He isn’t going to make that same mistake again, which is why Alec stands across from Magnus now, taking Magnus’ hands in his own, repeating the offer extended by Asmodeus.

“Your magic, or… me. It’s your decision, Magnus.”

“Alexander, this is ridiculous,” Magnus tells him, trying to sound dismissive, except the way he perks up at the thought of getting his magic back tells Alec otherwise.

“Is it? You said it yourself - you never wanted this life. You can’t be happy in it. It’s my fault you lost your magic. Twice.” Alec forces himself to say the words even though he feels an ache in his heart to speak them out loud and admit he’s the reason Magnus is in this position in the first place. “I’ll do whatever I have to to fix it.”

“I know what I said, but I didn’t mean it like that, I–” Alec watches Magnus struggle to find the right words to backtrack on their conversation from the night before. He waits, hoping that Magnus will insist he turn the offer down without a second thought. He wants Magnus to be furious he went behind his back to Asmodeus, that he’d put himself at risk like that, that he’d even think about sacrificing their love to bring back his magic.

Instead, all Alec sees is Magnus actually considering his options, and his heart breaks for the second time in as many days.

It was one thing for Alec to imagine agreeing to the deal when it was his decision - when he could pretend there wasn’t a chance Magnus would agree, even if it was what needed to be done. It’s another to see Magnus consider it; to see the desperate wanting in his eyes.  

“-I can’t ask you to do this.” Magnus says, his voice quiet. Alec hears the implication behind the careful phrasing: I can’t, but I wish I could.

“You’re not. I’m- I’m offering. If this is what you want then I’ll do it.” Alec nearly chokes on the words. He hadn’t realized until just now how big the part of him is that expected Magnus to say they’ll find another way, that of course he’d rather live a mundane life with Alec than one without him, powers or not. “Just tell me what you need.”

Alec allows himself one last moment of hope, sending a silent prayer to the Angel. Please , he thinks, I need him. Let him need me, too.

Alec feels that hope fade with every passing second Magnus remains silent, gaze down, unable to meet his eyes. He feels it disappear entirely when Magnus opens his mouth and shuts it again, unable to bring himself to admit the truth.

“On second thought, you don’t have to. I think your silence speaks for itself.” There’s a bitter taste in his mouth that he knows seeps into those words, but Alec can’t help it. What goddamn fairy tail did he think he was living in, that love could solve all their problems? That he might have a happy ending after all?

He takes a step back and drops Magnus’ hands from his own.

“I love you.” Magnus says. Alec knows he means it, and yet that only makes it worse.

“I love you too,” Alec replies, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small silver box. The ring. There’s never going to be anyone else he’ll want to give it to, of that much he’s certain. Not bothering to open it he hands it to Magnus.  “And I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. But I meant what I said last night: all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it can’t be with me.”

“Alec-” Magnus starts, opening the box and staring down at the ring with wide eyes.

“Take care, Magnus.”

Emotions cloud judgement, and as he feels himself shut down a little more with each step he takes Alec can suddenly see clearer than he has in months.

He just hopes the deal still stands when it wasn’t him who did the heartbreaking.

—

When Alec comes back Magnus is already awake. He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying in the dark like this, but it’s long enough that the sudden light is blinding. He almost wishes it was, because the look that Alec greets him with while trying to figure out if Magnus is drunk again or not is so full of pity that he can barely stand it.

He isn’t, but even if he was the words that Alec says next would be more than enough to sober him up fast.

Alec went to Asmodeus. He went to Asmodeus, for him, to get his magic back.

“Your magic, or… me. It’s your decision, Magnus.” Alec says it like he’s asking Magnus to choose red or white wine for dinner. This entire thing is trite, and contrived, and exactly the sort of petty game he would expect from his father.

“Alexander, this is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Alec questions, and Magnus feels a wave of guilt over the fact that he’s justified in questioning Magnus’ attempt to dismiss the idea. “You said it yourself - you never wanted this life. You can’t be happy in it. It’s my fault you lost your magic. Twice. I’ll do whatever I have to to fix it.”

Magnus knows Alec means it, and that’s what scares him. Any other scenario, any other person, and he’d have no problem turning the offer down to spare the other party. But Alec is strong. He’s the Head of the Institute. He has his family, his friends… he doesn’t need Magnus and the mess his life has become to distract him from the bright future he has ahead of him. Without his magic Magnus is more of a burden than an asset, and he doesn’t want to spend the rest of their lives dragging Alec down with him. Maybe this would be best for both of them.

“I know what I said, but I didn’t mean it like that, I–” Magnus falters. He knows what he said while he was drunk, and he knows that he meant it. He meant more of what he said last night than anything he’s said in days. In weeks. He wants his magic back more than anything.

… more than Alexander?

The fact that he continues to question, to consider, makes him sick to his stomach. But it doesn’t change the fact that his decision isn’t immediate. That he wants his magic back so badly he’s considering walking away from the person he loves to get it back.

“-I can’t ask you to do this.”

No. He can see the hurt already forming on Alec’s features over his hesitation. He can’t do this, not to Alec. Not to them.

Can he?

“You’re not. I’m- I’m offering. If this is what you want then I’ll do it. Just tell me what you need.”

Magnus knows what he should say. That Alec’s love - that just Alec - is all he needs. That he’s enough. It should be an automatic response, words of devotion and praise flooding past his lips without hesitation.

Instead he’s silent. He can’t keep lying, not to Alec, and not to himself. He knows exactly what he needs, even if he can’t bring himself to say it.

He needs to feel whole again.

He needs his magic back.

“On second thought, you don’t have to. I think your silence speaks for itself.” The harsh bite to Alec’s words is enough for Magnus to look up again, his hands falling to his side when Alec drops them from the comfort of his grip. Magnus feels the loss immediately, the cold distance between them now. He wants to reach back out for Alec’s hands, to feel the warmth one more time, but he knows he’s lost that right.

“I love you.” Magnus says, and he means it. He’s never meant it more, he’s certain. But that doesn’t change anything now.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. But I meant what I said last night: all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it can’t be with me.”

Magnus isn’t sure when the box ended up in his hand, but he opens it instinctively, taking a moment to process the ring inside. It isn’t just any ring - it’s the Lightwood family ring. And the fact that Alec had it in this box, in his pocket, can only mean one thing…

“Alec-”

“Take care, Magnus.” Alec cuts him off and a part of him is thankful, because Magnus doesn’t know what he plans on saying next. It’s all too little, too late. He made his choice, and so has Alec.

Alec, who has the strength to walk away - not from him, but for him.

It isn’t until Alec’s gone that Magnus takes the ring out of the box and, slowly, slides it onto his finger. For a moment he closes his eyes and imagines everything that could have been, if only he had half of Alexander’s strength and resolve.

When he opens his eyes again he takes the ring back off and places it on Alec’s dresser with the hope that one day Alec will give it the home it deserves.(part two)

[avatar-of-the-green]

Swamp Thing 1x06/1x07 Thoughts

My goodness, the last two episodes have definitely been something else. Other posters have already offered their excellent perspectives, I just have so many thoughts that I needed to express. As such, this is very long because brevity is not my strong suit. As always, cutting due to spoilers for the current episode and possible future episodes. 

Matt: 

I love how this show explores its characters. One of my previous complaints was that Matt had very little depth beyond being a seemingly-nice police officer with a torch for Abby. But with the last two episodes, we were given a deeper look into his actions and frustrations and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Him being the one to kill Alec disappointed me-mostly because I didn’t want him to be a “bad” guy-but the reasoning for him doing so was at least understandable. Not excusable, of course, but basically continuing the appalling cycle of corruption that was started by his mother and Avery. 

When it comes to the people we love, for some people, what’s “right” takes a backseat. I have no doubt that the only way Avery was able to force Matt’s hand was due to his blackmail material, in a direct contrast to him pulling Lucilia’s strings without much effort. Him being willing to murder Avery in episode seven basically showed how unwilling he was to remain someone for Avery to manipulate, but even that was completely turned on its head when Avery dropped the paternity bomb. 

I wasn’t really shocked about Avery being his father, it was something that I had wondered about as we never really received any information pertaining to Lucilia’s husband and given her rather messy behavior, it certainly made sense. But poor Matt, I feel that the next episodes are going to have him spiraling really badly. 

He “killed” an innocent person who later came back as a plant monster that might decide some revenge is in order once his memory returns. The man who manipulated him and his mother is actually his father…whom he also helped to murder. His whole identity is now in question, his relationship with his mother is in shambles and one of the people he cares about just up and left just like he was told she would. 

I hope that we have more scenes with him and Liz. Marais has felt very tiny in the most recent episodes and it’s nice to another friendship depicted. 

Lucilia:

Oh, Lucilia. I’d feel badly for her if most of the disasters in her life weren’t due to her own bad decisions. The fact that she never expected Avery to have blackmail fodder going back for years was unrealistic to me until I gave it a bit more thought. She isn’t a good person and neither is Avery, but she somehow assumed that his feelings for her made her immune to his perpetual need to control and manipulate everyone in his life. 

It reminded me a lot of a scene from the end of Kill Bill: Volume 2 between Bill and Beatrix when she mentions how shocked she was at what he did. She was well aware of-and even comfortable with-the terrible things he was capable of, but the possibility that he would do any of those terrible things to her never entered her mind. Lucilia was exactly the same and it seems like an incredibly naive mindset until you consider how some people are. 

She did awful things for Avery for money while deluding herself that it was to protect Matt. I’d bet that if Matt had expressed interest in transferring to other locations prior to episode six, she probably guilt tripped him about leaving her and all she did for him until he dropped it. Her keeping his paternity to herself may have been about “protecting” him from Avery’s influence, but it was also about keeping him to herself-as is sole influence-as well. It’s not that she doesn’t love her son, but she’s so possessive of him to an unhealthy level. I wasn’t all of the nefarious things she did for Avery that pushed her to kill him, but the fact that he involved Matt in a murder and completely shattered his perception of her as his mother. And as Avery said, she doesn’t forgive or forget. 

Maria: 

She was definitely one of the highlights of episode seven for me. Seeing her in control and getting things done was wonderful and while I’m assuming helping with the Avery murder plot is going to come back to bite her, I’m glad that she was able to deal with Lucilia despite their obvious issues in order to achieve her goals. 

While I still believe “Shawna” is inside her somewhere, I’d also like to think the experience in the swamp and finally receiving medication might have snapped her out of her fog of despair. There is nothing wrong with receiving help when you need it and while Maria is terrible to Abby, I genuinely believe she would feel badly about possibly putting Susie in danger with her shenanigans. 

Thankfully Avery won’t be around for a little while with his patented “Abby is stirring up all these bad feelings,” gaslighting speeches. 

Avery: 

He is really going all out to win the title as the most monstrous person in the series. The scene with him and Abby in episode six made me so tense and uncomfortable because it was such classic emotionally abusive behavior. How dare she accuse him of things he (most likely) did! She had nothing before him, she owes him! As though he isn’t a murderous scumbag. As though he doesn’t talk out both sides of his mouth playing on Maria’s grief and Abby’s affections. 

It’s mostly my headcanon, but I think he was probably closer to Abby than Shawna growing up, as they had the deaths of their parents to bond over. Shawna was born into money and Abby wasn’t, so anything he did for her she was immensely appreciative of. She was also probably so afraid of being abandoned that she did everything possible to be the “good” daughter, in contrast to Shawna’s more rebellious personality. 

She loved and respected Avery until Shawna’s death, which is probably when his mask briefly slipped and she saw the rotten person he truly was. But because she was just a teenager, she rationalized it as being the effects of Shawna’s death and all her fault. But after returning to Marais, Abby is able to see more and more of the despicable person Avery truly is and that infuriated him. He has nothing to hold over her aside from Shawna’s death, nothing to control her with and while I’d like to think he wouldn’t hurt her…his behavior towards Lucilia in the swamp-a woman’s he’s been with for thirty odd years-shows that doesn’t really value anyone. 

Everyone is disposable in his eyes. 

I wonder what led him to become such an atrocious person. We constantly hear about the “swamp taking his father,” but the flashback we were shown doesn’t really depict a sadistic child that would become a villain. It could simply be the typical story of a man desperate to rise about his station became consumed by his greed and corrupted by his ambitions, but I hope there is a little more to it than that. 

I’m both curious and afraid of what’s going to happen next with him. I enjoyed how his rise from the swamp was a mirror of Alec’s, but with more violence. If he is an Avatar of the Rot, it’s going to make things very interesting in the remaining episodes.  

Woodrue: 

I’ll just state the obvious that what he did to Cassidy was beyond unethical and potentially remarkably insipid. Alec faked scientific results, and he’s a scientist by loose definition in his eyes, yet he engages in unsanctioned human testing and that’s completely acceptable. Avery really does poison all the people he touches, though his own ambition and his desire to help Caroline probably would have led him down the same road. 

I loved that Caroline called him out on his behavior and just how amoral his actions were and how her quick thinking kept Cassidy from being shot. It was painful to witness the change in her towards the end of this episode and sadly I’m sure her situation is only going to get worse. Either Woodrue will inject her with the formula to prevent her Alzheimers from progressing or he’ll inject himself as another test subject and things will fall apart from there. 

Abby: 

As I stated in one of my notes, I love her but her lack of self-preservation is crazy. She has this incredible need to fix situations and yet makes choices that are incredibly impetuous and could make them worse. I truly wish that we knew more of her background, but one could assume her mother dying and then Shawna dying both contributed to her unhealthy fixation with trying to save everyone and control the situation. She couldn’t help her mother, she caused Shawna to die-but in actuality was just unable to save her from an unseen force-and now she has Alec to focus on and feels as though she’s failing him as well. 

With some people, I would say it’s based on a desire for praise or to be a martyr, but with her I think it’s just an effect of having so many unresolved issues and so much guilt. As though saving as many people possible will somehow help her “atone” for those she couldn’t. She wants to save Alec because she cares about him, but also because the situation he’s in could be incredibly dangerous. Two hunters came for him, the next time it could be a team to capture him for study or dissection. 

It’s thoughtful of her, but then she has this remarkable reckless streak that almost got her killed several times. Lucilia could have shot her, she could have died from the darkness, she could have died from the Rot. She was incredibly lucky in the first instance and fortunate that Alec was present in the last two. While the end of episode seven was heartbreaking, it was completely reasonable for Alec to tell her to leave. While her intentions have been good, her behavior has been irrational and eventually her luck will run out. 

I’m curious as to whether or not the show is involving Abby’s New 52 origin and if the tendril from the Rot will awaken something within her. We’ve already seen (the person I assume) is Anton Arcane, so it might not be such a far stretch. 

Abby’s scenes with Alec were just so perfect and it made me so happy as a shipper. All of the touches and her kissing him were lovely. But her crying as she drove away from him in her boat broke my heart. Hopefully her time in Atlanta will give her some time to reflect on things. And with luck we’ll see Harlan again and find out what-if any-consequences have arisen due to her absence. 

Alec: 

Although I’m almost one hundred percent certain that they’re going with Alan Moore’s interpretation of Swamp Thing, I’ll still refer to him as Alec for now. 

Episode six was a particularly painful one for him, as he got to experience the joys of being trapped, shot and hunted like an animal. His anger was justified and while his response was a bit much-I winced at the bark spikes to the face-he doesn’t quite have full control or knowledge of his capabilities yet. He was also completely aware of the danger that people poking around the swamp would pose for him. He is a scientific find of the century and there would be no shortage of people wanting a piece of him. There was also the Matt aspect later in the episode as well. What he did to him was inexcusable, but I really hope Alec doesn’t kill him in recompense.

The near-end of the episode was lovely and definitely understandable. It’s frightening, but sometimes you need to move away from the person you were in order to grow and gain a better comprehension of yourself. 

Then the last scene occurred and I may have freaked out a tiny bit. 

It was wonderful having Andy Bean back as Alec Holland for episode seven. I love the way that Derek Mears portrays Swamp Thing, he’s so incredible emotive despite the costume and the makeup, but I also love how Andy Bean portrays Alec as well. They have distinct personalities, Alec being affable and charming, while Swamp Thing is more solemn and otherworldly-for obvious reasons. Having Human!Alec back was bittersweet and it was nice that they were able to find a plot-relevant reason to do so. I still really hope we get some more flashbacks to his life prior to Marais, but that may sadly be just a pipe dream. 

This episode was definitely a turning point for Alec and his growing acceptance for his role as Avatar of the Green. As wonderful as it was to be the “charming man” he used to be, without his abilities, Abby would have died. Technically, he should have stopped her from getting too close to the Rot, but that might have broken the immersion of the hallucination. But the scene before they encountered the Rot was so beautiful and I’m glad the lighting wasn’t terrible for once. While parts of his new life are undoubtedly strange and a bit traumatizing, it was good to see Alec extolling the wonderous aspects as well. 

The way the Green is portrayed is also interesting. We’ve seen the darker aspects with it lashing out in the first episode and it briefly forcing Alec to see those who perished in episode five, but it consciously trying to help him connect with Abby and to save her life was wonderful as well. It was also teaching him something of a lesson. If he even could go back to being human, he would be unable to do anything against the Rot or help anyone except in the traditional sense. Perhaps Abby is able to synthesize a formula to combat the Rot, but then it would have to be tested, approved, mass produced, distributed and analyzed. 

Which would be remarkably useful, but would take valuable time that they don’t have. What Abby viewed as him giving up hope was more him coming to terms with his destiny and what that entails. Him asking Abby to leave was so painful to watch, but with something so powerful and ancient intent upon destroying everything, allowing her to remain in harm’s way would have been selfish on his part. 

But all the longing looks and the touches throughout the episode nearly killed me. As Swamp Thing he’s been so reluctant to be close to Abby unless it was necessary and the fact that she kissed him-while seeing his human form-may have inadvertently made things a little worse. He can’t be that person again, despite Abby’s belief that he can be cured and despite his talk of accepting his destiny, he doesn’t view a relationship with her as a part of that. 

He’s referred to himself as a “monster” and a “thing.” Despite the beauty in his existence and the knowledge of having a special purpose, he still is obviously bothered by his “transformation.” While Abby mentions a cure as something that will help him, which she undoubtedly believes, he probably interprets it as her being bothered by “what” he is and feels insecure about it. In terms of a future, he also can’t offer her much in way of traditional things. Which begs the question of Abby wanting a more normal relationship and him feeling as though she would be settling. 

It’s such a delightful tangle of emotions that we’ll have only three episodes to figure out. 

[karaell]

How to save a heart

Alec was walking back from his meeting with Asmodeus on shaky legs. The adrenaline was wearing off and the reality of the situation was becoming clearer with every step.

He agreed to break up with Magnus, he agreed to an impossible deal and now he didn't know if he can go through with it.

Is he strong enough to put his own feelings aside and save his boyfriend, the love of his life from this suffering? A small part of his brain, the one which was usually right and which he often ignored was telling him that breaking Magnus' heart was the worst possible way out of this situation, that his boyfriend already lost too much because of Alec himself. But the part that was being consumed by guilt was quickly winning the battle. Because Alec felt guilt more than anything else. It was his fault that Magnus was without magic, his fault that he almost died, his fault that Magnus was sinking deeper and deeper into depression, because Alec was selfish and to cought up in his own wishes and desires to actually see his boyfriend see his pain and sacrifice.

That's over now. Gaining more steadiness in his step Alec makes a decision, he will sacrifice his heart, he will make sure that Magnus is happy again, that he feels like himself again. And despite the pain at the admission Alec is also sure Magnus will recover their relationship ending. He knows Magnus loves him, probably more than he loved his other lovers, he also knows that for the duration of their relationship Magnus had time to get used to the fact that he will lose Alec sooner or later, and if it's sooner but brings his magic back than who is Alec to argue with that logic.

****

He finds Magnus in the library, using one of the computers, his boyfriend for the time being looks haggard and bleak, words that no one would ever use to describe the great Magnus Bane, yet here they are. Alec waits for a beat, stopping in the doorway to drink in the sight of Magnus, of the most precious thing that ever happened to him, before bracing his heart for the impact. He clears his throat and slides on a mask of indifference. Magnus whippes his head around a tired and reserved smile on his face.

'Hello Alexander, I haven't seen you all day. I have news'

'Hello Magnus' he says, voice as steady as he can muster. 'What kind of news?'

Magnus tilt's his head to the side, studying his boyfriend for a second before continuing.

'I found an apartment, not far from here, so close enough for you to walk to work, hitting all of our criteria, I already went over whilst you where gone, as there was a chance to see it in person. And of course if you don't like it we can back out but I've placed an offer and we can start moving in even tomorrow!'

Magnus was mastering as much excitement as possible at this time, after his breakdown yesterday he felt enough shame at showing his weakness, but it was harder and harder to keep his walls up around Alexander who proved to be excellent at getting him to open up, almost against his will. But now gazing at his boyfriends stormy face he couldn't help but recoil, did he make a mistake and Alec wasn't willing to live with him anymore, did he push him away to far to the point of no return?

' That's great. I would say just in time, because you can't stay here any longer'

'Why? Has someone said anything?'

'Nothing like that, it's just.... Magnus I don't think us being together is right at the minute.... I think it's best if we don't see each other anymore.'

'What? I don't... Alexander what are you saying?' Magnus was lost for words, how come this man, who just 24 hours ago was cradling him in his arms whispering reassurance of love suddenly decided that he is not worth it?

Stumbling backwards Magnus kept an eye on Alec, on his stormy face and clenched fists, on his angry posture. Was this his doing? Has he been such a disappointing partner, it wouldn't be the first time, he thought bitterly.

'I think we should break up, without your magic, and with you being so... different. We just don't work anymore.' Alec was speaking through gritted teeth, each word that left his mouth was like a stabbing wound. All he was aching to do was to grab Magnus and never let him go. But that's not what Magnus deserves, he deserves his power, his magic, to live forever, not some pathetic excuse of a boyfriend who can't even bring him happiness.

Magnus was breathing hard, not fully comprehending the fact that after all of what happened in the last weeks he's now also loosing Alec, a reason for his sacrifice. He lost his magic to save his boyfriend from a tragic loss. He took that burden away from him and that's how this ends for him. Without a support he needs so desperately at this awful time. No one treats Magnus Bane this way, not even a person he loves.

Alec can see the exact moment Magnus is hit with the realisation of what is happening. He can see the walls going up, he can almost feel how betrayed Magnus feels. So he's bracing himself cause he knows how good his boyfriend is with words and how much he can hurt him.

'You, you made me believe that I can have love after so many centuries, you took away a part of me, you made me sacrifice myself time and again! You're a pathetic little boy who thinks he can play with people, you're no leader. I wish I never loved you, I wish I left you a long time ago when the chance presented itself! Goodbye Alec'

With that he was gone. Izzy found Alec on the floor of the library an hour later. Her brother in nearly catatonic state, clutching Lightwoods family ring.

****

Magnus was running, running away from that toxic place, form Alec, from this reality. He didn't know where he was going but when he finally looked up he was just a block away from Catarina's apartment. Apparently his brain still worked, in the contrary to his broken heart.

But before he could take another step, he felt a pull of power, some kind of electricity buzzing around him. Looking around he saw a twirling blue and red energy appearing right in front of him. Magnus had no time to react when the energy suddenly started entering his body.

Someone was slapping his cheek, it felt cold and strange against his face. He blinked his eyes open to see a young girl with a skateboard under her pit.

'Are you ok?' She asked.

Magnus blinked a few times after remembering the weird energy, he must've passed out after it entered his body. He was suddenly glad he somehow found himself near Catarina's apartment.

'Yes, yes I'm ok thank you. Must be low on sugar or something' with a quick wave he disappeared as fast as he could.

****

'Your magic is back! When? How did this happen?' were the first words that left Cat's mouth as soon as she opened her door.

'What?'

Can you not feel it?'

'I...' in all his distress Magnus didn't even question the way his body felt. He wasn't expecting his magic to return henceforth he hasn't tried to channel it in any way. But now he could feel it pulsing through him, like a roaring beast it was ready to be unleashed at any time, ready to be wielded. And it was his. It was familiar, felt like coming home after years of separation, it didn't not compare with Lorenzo's magic which did the trick but never felt like his own.

He got rid of his glamour and with glossy eyes looked at Cat, she stood before him tears streaming down her face.

How?' he asked.

'Wait, you don't know?' When did this happen?' she asked suspicion in her voice.

'Literally just now, I was coming to you, I had to leave the Institute, and suddenly this power entered me and bam here I am' he explained not being able to hide his hurt when talking about the Institute.

'What happened at the Institute?' Cat pressed gently, knowing the fragile state her friend has been in the last weeks.

'He, Alec... Alexander broke up with me'

'That's impossible! I know I had my doubts but that boy loves you, he was devastated when you got sick he wouldn't just toss you aside just a few days later'

'Well he did, he said we don't work anymore because I don't have my magic and I'm not myself anymore'

Cat was still looking at him sceptically, she got to know Alec a lot better recently and what Magnus was saying seemed very far away from the Shadowhunters character, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

'So what do you think happened? Asmodeus got bored and decided to just give you your magic back?'

'I doubt that, nothing comes free with my father, but how? I can think of only one way he would agree to giving my magic back to me and that's getting something in return. But I can't think of anyone that would willingly deal with my father... No person other than maybe you or Alexander......oh god.'

'Magnus what is it? Didn't you say he just broke up with you out of nowhere...ohhh'

They shared a look of understanding, a look full of dread.

'No he wouldn't. Why would he do that? Didn't he know I rather die with him than live for eternity without him.?'

'I guess he loves you enough to sacrifice his happiness'

'I told him I'm not happy, I told him there might never be a time when I'm happy again but I didn't tell him that he's the only reason I'm still here, still holding on. What if breaking up with me is not everything he had to offer to my father I have to see him now.'

'Go but don't do anything stupid. Asmodeus can still take your magic back.'

'I ..' he almost said he doesn't care but the words wouldn't leave his mouth because no matter what, Magnus is not being striped of his magic ever again. With the last nod towards Catarina he lets his magic wash over him, his hands start to dance in a manner that could be described as excessive but he doesn't care. He hasn't felt this alive in what feels like years. Soon enough he's walking through a portal straight into Alec's office.

****

He's not surprised to see it empty. If he wasn't trying to fix this mess he would probably be sitting on Cat's couch sobbing right now, so he understands. He spend the last week living in Alec's room at the Institute but nevertheless he decided to knock on the door, when he gets there. His heart nearly breaks at Alec's rough and sad voice coming from inside. 'Izzy please, leave me alone!'

The newly recharged Warlock hesitates only for a second before softly slipping into the room.

'I'm not going anywhere you silly silly Nephilim' he says quietly, but not without passion, it's almost like his voice send electricity towards Alec's body. Next second the Shadowhunter is up on his feet, hands wiping down his face of any fluids.

'Magnus what are you doing here? Haven't I made myself clear that I don't want to see you anymore?' he says and it would be much more convincing if Alec didn't look ready to be sick at having to repeat those words.

'What is clear to me, is that I have my magic back and that my boyfriend decided to make a deal with my father behind my back.'

Alec's eyes widen just for a second before he's moving, stepping closer to Magnus. Magnus who doesn't expect to be manhandled towards the door.

'I don't know what you're talking about. Please just leave I can't ..we can't'.'

'Yes we can, Alexander we will figure this out, please'

'Magnus no, he only agreed to this if we're not together anymore, he will take it back otherwise, you can't ...I just want you to be happy, please let me help you be happy'

'I am happy, when I wake next you, when I see your smile, when you speak sweet nothings into my ear, when I hold your hand, when I know that I have the love of my life by my side, that's when I'm happy.'

' But you said, that without your magic...I wanted you to be whole again, to fix my mistakes.'

'First of all it was my choice and second of all I said I wasn't happy, and that was true, my magic means the world to me but you darling you are my world. I can survive loosing my magic it would take time, but loosing you, the pain I was in was unimaginable. I love you Alexander Lightwood, and I'm not letting you go, even if it means I have to face my father again.'

'I love you too Magnus Bane and I'm so so sorry.'

And they cried softly together until they both felt like they are strong enough to face the world after this turmoil of emotions

[fraybaness]

allowed to feel

ao3

in which someone understands. | tw for mentions of violence and abuse

Maia's not used to seeing her out alone. She looks around for Jace or Luke or Simon or Izzy, even Magnus. But no - it's just Clary, hunched over an empty glass in the corner of the bar, staring off into space.

Maia walks over to her as casually as she can, trying to mask the fact that she's been staring. "Hey," she says cheerfully; Clary's head snaps up. "Need a refill?" Maia holds up her bottle of bourbon. Clary nods.

"The last guy gave me a virgin drink," Clary says with a smile. But it's a hollow smile, her mind clearly elsewhere. And it's hard to miss the bags under her eyes that concealer can't quite hide. She looks exhausted .

"That is because you're eighteen," Maia says as she fills a new glass up. "But I'll cut you some slack since you look like you need it." She places the drink in front of Clary. Clary mumbles a thanks and wraps her fingers around the glass, but doesn't drink. Maia frowns. "You okay?"

Clary looks up at her, for just a moment, and then back down again. But it's enough - enough for Maia to see a deep vulnerability in her eyes she hasn't seen there before.

But then it's gone and Clary smiles and says, "yeah. Thanks."

Clary is the type of person to wear her emotions on her sleeves, so Maia doesn't understand why she's trying so hard to hide them. It could be because they're not close. Then again, she clearly needs someone to vent to, and though Maia hates conforming to bartender stereotypes, she can’t deny that…well, she’s worried.

"You sure?" Maia asks, deciding that if Clary plays it off again, she's not going to push anymore. She can only do so much for people she barely hangs out with.

Clary opens her mouth, then closes it and swallows. "A lot has been happening."

Maia nods. She waits for Clary to go on.

Clary shakes her head and forces another smile, changing the subject. "You seen Luke around?"

Okay. So she doesn't wanna talk.

That shouldn't bother Maia half as much as it does.

"He's on a date," Maia says. "With your boyfriend's mom, actually."

Clary's wince is barely noticeable, and gone as fast as it came, but Maia catches it. She hadn't meant for the comment to actually upset Clary. It was supposed to get an eye roll in response, maybe a chuckle, if Maia was lucky. Not... this .

Maia puts down the bottle she's holding and leans closer to Clary across the counter. "Is Jace okay?" she asks. She hopes Jace's well-being is the only reason Clary reacted like that at his mention, because the alternative is so much worse.

The alternative might make Maia kill someone tonight.

"Yeah," Clary says in a small voice. "He...I don't know if Luke told you, but-"

"He was possessed by the Queen of Edom," Maia finishes for her. "Yeah, Simon told me."

Clary nods. "He's fine now. Unpossessed and everything, thanks to Magnus. He needs time to recover, though. He didn't take any time right after it happened."

"He'll be fine," Maia says reassuringly. "He has a supportive family-" she raises an eyebrow at Clary. "-a great girlfriend...and he's strong. He's got this."

Clary nods and thanks her again, but doesn't look much better. She lifts her glass and downs the whole thing in one go.

"Whoa!" Maia reaches out in time to take the empty glass from her. "Christ, okay, here," she fills a different cup with water and forces it into Clary's hands. "If I let you get drunk alone at a bar, your dad's gonna kill me."

Clary obediently drinks half the content of the glass and makes a face. "You look tired," she says abruptly with newfound bravado. Maia rolls her eyes.

"The Downworld has had things going on, too," she says simply. "And I'm not getting you another drink, lest you start saying everything that's on your mind."

That gets a genuine smile out of Clary. "I do that sober."

"True." Maia smirks. "But, hey, I've got Simon to talk to. Where are your Shadowhunter groupies?"

"At work," Clary says matter-of-factly. "Or, in Alec's case, at Magnus' place. So, you know, everything is normal."

"Except you're drinking alone."

Clary shrugs. "Needed to clear my head, I guess." She hesitates. "Hey, um...are you staying over at Simon's tonight?"

"No, why?"

"Well..." she shakes her head, as if ashamed of the idea. "I was gonna ask him to sleep over at his place. If that's okay with you, I mean."

“You have my blessing," Maia chuckles. She wishes Clary knew that just because they've both dated him, it doesn't mean Maia's going to be weird about her and Simon spending time together. She trusts Simon. She’s not going to prevent him from spending time with his best friend.

Clary breathes a sigh of relief and takes out her phone to type a text to Simon while Maia mixes a drink for another customer. When she returns to Clary, the other girl looks a little less anxious, but just as tired.

“You want something to eat?” Maia asks. Clary considers for a moment, then orders a plate of chips and retreats to a table in the back. That in itself would be fine, except two hours later, she’s still there.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t finished these,” Maia comments, sitting across from Clary and startling her. Her shift is over and Clary isn’t even halfway through the chips she’s bought. They’re very good chips. It’s ridiculous. “What’s going on with you?”

“Simon’s gonna be out late,” Clary says. “I’m just killing time.”

“Uh-huh,” Maia grabs a handful of chips and chews thoughtfully, studying Clary. “Any particular reason you don’t wanna go back to the Institute?”

Clary tenses, but forces a smile and shakes her head.

Maia hesitates. “Do you want me to call someone? Maybe Luke?” She asks; Clary shakes her head again. “How about Jace?”

Again, Clary’s reaction is worrying, to say the least: her shoulders hunch automatically and her bottom lip begins to quiver. She struggles to hide it, but the exhaustion must be catching up with her. Maia stands up.

“I have a key to Simon’s place,” she says quickly. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

Clary nods wordlessly and follows her out of the Hunter’s Moon. Neither of them says anything as they walk down the busy streets towards Simon’s new apartment.

After about two blocks, Clary breaks down.

The sobs seem entirely involuntary and utterly draining. She collapses against the nearest wall. Her hands come up shakily to cover her face. Her phone drops to the ground at her feet, the edge of its casing chipping on the concrete. Maia can only stand there in stunned silence and watch as Clary curls in on herself on the dirty street corner and cries.

“Fuck,” Maia breathes, and crouches down in front of Clary. “Clary, are you…” She trails off, realizing are you okay? is a rather stupid question. “Hey, what is it? Are you hurt?”

Clary shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I- I can’t-”

She starts to fumble around clumsily for the phone she’s dropped. Maia picks it up to hand it to her - it’s still vibrating. She glances at the caller ID.

“It’s…Jace,” Maia says. “Do you want me to…?”

Clary swallows thickly. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and realize golden boy’s call is what triggered such an intense reaction in her. Maia rejects the call and helps Clary off the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Clary says again.

“Clary, did he hurt you?” Maia asks abruptly. Her voice is low and quiet and sure - she already knows the answer.

Clary begins to shake her head, but stops. " He didn't," she says shakily. "But...when I ent to confront him after I found out he was the Owl- I shouldn't have gone after him. It was stupid. I was just so shocked and scared and-" she cuts herself off with another involuntary sob.

Maia is suddenly overcome with the need to protect her. Whether it's because Clary's young or her friend or just another girl who didn't deserve the horrible things that have happened to her, she doesn't know, but it doesn't stop her wanting to skin the person who's hurt her alive.

Clary clears throat and goes on, "I fought the Owl and he won. And I tried to reach out to him, to get him to break free from Lilith's control. I- I told him I loved him...and he threw me off an eight-story building and shattered my spine."

She's not crying anymore. Not really. Her eyes are red and puffy and her jaw is still quivering, but instead of tears, there is a cold, resigned look in her eyes.

And Maia feels like throwing up.

"Are you-" she tries to speak - but there are really no words for this situation. "God, Clary, that's...are you okay? I mean, how-"

"Magnus," Clary says, and for some reason there is an edge of guilt to her tone. "And Simon, and Iratze , and some Shadowhunter medics. But mostly Magnus. Because all he does is walk around solving problems that I caused."

Maia swallows. "Clary, some guy breaking your spine isn't your fault."

"But everything else was."

Maia doesn't ask her to elaborate. Whatever it is, it doesn't feel like a conversation to be had tonight.

Instead, she changes the subject back. "You can't look at Jace the same way, can you?"

"No," Clary admits, her voice cracking. She leans back against the wall, the bone-deep tiredness she feels evident in her eyes. "No, and it's not fair because this wasn't his fault! But I can't- I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him to kiss me or say my name or tell me he's sorry or that he loves me. I can't stop thinking about how stupid I felt when I told him I loved him and he just laughed. I can't stop thinking about how much it hurt , how I couldn't move ... I just...I want things to go back to the way they were." Fresh tears fill her eyes and she shakes her head, trying to will them away.

Maia doesn't say anything for a long time. She doesn't know what Clary's feeling. She was never in that situation. And she's certainly never broken her back. But while it's a vastly different situation, she knows a thing or two about being left for dead by people who are supposed to love you.

"I know," she says quietly.

Clary looks at her, fresh horror on her face. "You do?"

"Yeah," Maia purses her lips. "My abusive ex is back in town. And I won't let him leave." Clary blinks and tilts her head like a confused puppy. Maia can't help but savour the affectionate thought as she continues to explain: "He was sent by this organization to help Simon with the Mark on his head and I won't let him leave until Simon's safe."

"He's a Downworlder?" Clary asks.

Maia nods. She doesn't want to go into detail. "Point is, sometimes people you're supposed to trust will hurt you. And it doesn't matter whether they meant to or not. Whatever you're feeling - anger or pain or whatever else - you're allowed to feel it."

Clary looks at her for a moment, letting the words sink in. Then she steps forward and hugs her.

Maia is stunned for a second, not having expected it, but it's not a bad feeling, being wrapped up in Clary Fairchild's arms (no - she's Clary Fray right now, no big intimidating Shadowhunter name attached to her, no legacy. Just a scared and angry teenage girl searching for any comfort she can find in a life that offers none.) She's small but muscular under her skin, her body running hot from all the crying as she presses her face into the crook of Maia's neck, wetting it with tears. Maia returns the hug, and feels instantly calmer and warmer, and they stand like that for a long time, reminding themselves and each other that they're not alone.

They're not alone.

[fraysbanes]

allowed to feel

Characters: Maia Roberts

Relationship: Clary Fray & Maia Roberts

Rating: T

Summary: Clary knew she was a goner from the moment Isabelle Lightwood stepped into her workshop. (Based on a tumblr prompt from anonymous: "Au where Clary's a closeted fashion designer and Izzy's her model")

Warnings: mentions of abuse and serious injuries

Maia's not used to seeing her out alone. She looks around for Jace or Luke or Simon or Izzy, even Magnus. But no - it's just Clary, hunched over an empty glass in the corner of the bar, staring off into space.

Maia walks over to her as casually as she can, trying to mask the fact that she's been staring. "Hey," she says cheerfully; Clary's head snaps up. "Need a refill?" Maia holds up her bottle of bourbon. Clary nods.

"The last guy gave me a virgin drink," Clary says with a smile. But it's a hollow smile, her mind clearly elsewhere. And it's hard to miss the bags under her eyes that concealer can't quite hide. She looks exhausted.

"That is because you're eighteen," Maia says as she fills a new glass up. "But I'll cut you some slack since you look like you need it." She places the drink in front of Clary. Clary mumbles a thanks and wraps her fingers around the glass, but doesn't drink. Maia frowns. "You okay?"

Clary looks up at her, for just a moment, and then back down again. But it's enough - enough for Maia to see a deep vulnerability in her eyes she hasn't seen there before.

But then it's gone and Clary smiles and says, "Yeah. Thanks."

Clary is the type of person to wear her emotions on her sleeves, so Maia doesn't understand why she's trying so hard to hide them. It could be because they're not close. Then again, she clearly needs someone to vent to, and though Maia hates conforming to bartender stereotypes, she can’t deny that…well, she’s worried.

"You sure?" Maia asks, deciding that if Clary plays it off again, she's not going to push anymore. She can only do so much for people she barely hangs out with.

Clary opens her mouth, then closes it and swallows. "A lot has been happening."

Maia nods. She waits for Clary to go on.

Clary shakes her head and forces another smile, changing the subject. "You seen Luke around?"

Okay. So she doesn't wanna talk.

That shouldn't bother Maia half as much as it does.

"He's on a date," Maia says. "With your boyfriend's mom, actually."

Clary's wince is barely noticeable, and gone as fast as it came, but Maia catches it. She hadn't meant for the comment to actually upset Clary. It was supposed to get an eye roll in response, maybe a chuckle, if Maia was lucky. Not...this.

Maia puts down the bottle she's holding and leans closer to Clary across the counter. "Is Jace okay?" she asks. She hopes Jace's well-being is the only reason Clary reacted like that at his mention, because the alternative is so much worse.

The alternative might make Maia kill someone tonight.

"Yeah," Clary says in a small voice. "He...I don't know if Luke told you, but-"

"He was possessed by the Queen of Edom," Maia finishes for her. "Yeah, Simon told me."

Clary nods. "He's fine now. Unpossessed and everything, thanks to Magnus. He needs time to recover, though. He didn't take any time right after it happened."

"He'll be fine," Maia says reassuringly. "He has a supportive family-" she raises an eyebrow at Clary. "-a great girlfriend...and he's strong. He's got this."

Clary nods and thanks her again, but doesn't look much better. She lifts her glass and downs the whole thing in one go.

"Whoa!" Maia reaches out in time to take the empty glass from her. "Christ, okay, here," she fills a different cup with water and forces it into Clary's hands. "If I let you get drunk alone at a bar, your dad's gonna kill me."

Clary obediently drinks half the content of the glass and makes a face. "You look tired," she says abruptly with newfound bravado. Maia rolls her eyes.

"The Downworld has had things going on, too," she says simply. "And I'm not getting you another drink, lest you start saying everything that's on your mind."

That gets a genuine smile out of Clary. "I do that sober."

"True." Maia smirks. "But, hey, I've got Simon to talk to. Where are your Shadowhunter groupies?"

"At work," Clary says matter-of-factly. "Or, in Alec's case, at Magnus' place. So, you know, everything is normal."

"Except you're drinking alone."

Clary shrugs. "Needed to clear my head, I guess." She hesitates. "Hey, um...are you staying over at Simon's tonight?"

"No, why?"

"Well..." she shakes her head, as if ashamed of the idea. "I was gonna ask him to sleep over at his place. If that's okay with you, I mean."

“You have my blessing," Maia chuckles. She wishes Clary knew that just because they've both dated him, it doesn't mean Maia's going to be weird about her and Simon spending time together. She trusts Simon. She’s not going to prevent him from spending time with his best friend.

Clary breathes a sigh of relief and takes out her phone to type a text to Simon while Maia mixes a drink for another customer. When she returns to Clary, the other girl looks a little less anxious, but just as tired.

“You want something to eat?” Maia asks. Clary considers for a moment, then orders a plate of chips and retreats to a table in the back. That in itself would be fine, except two hours later, she’s still there.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t finished these,” Maia comments, sitting across from Clary and startling her. Her shift is over and Clary isn’t even halfway through the chips she’s bought. They’re very good chips. It’s ridiculous. “What’s going on with you?”

“Simon’s gonna be out late,” Clary says. “I’m just killing time.”

“Uh-huh,” Maia grabs a handful of chips and chews thoughtfully, studying Clary. “Any particular reason you don’t wanna go back to the Institute?”

Clary tenses, but forces a smile and shakes her head.

Maia hesitates. “Do you want me to call someone? Maybe Luke?” She asks; Clary shakes her head again. “How about Jace?”

Again, Clary’s reaction is worrying, to say the least: her shoulders hunch automatically and her bottom lip begins to quiver. She struggles to hide it, but the exhaustion must be catching up with her. Maia stands up.

“I have a key to Simon’s place,” she says quickly. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

Clary nods wordlessly and follows her out of the Hunter’s Moon. Neither of them says anything as they walk down the busy streets towards Simon’s new apartment.

After about two blocks, Clary breaks down.

The sobs seem entirely involuntary and utterly draining. She collapses against the nearest wall. Her hands come up shakily to cover her face. Her phone drops to the ground at her feet, the edge of its casing chipping on the concrete. Maia can only stand there in stunned silence and watch as Clary curls in on herself on the dirty street corner and cries.

“Fuck,” Maia breathes, and crouches down in front of Clary. “Clary, are you…” She trails off, realizing are you okay? is a rather stupid question. “Hey, what is it? Are you hurt?”

Clary shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I- I can’t-”

She starts to fumble around clumsily for the phone she’s dropped. Maia picks it up to hand it to her - it’s still vibrating. She glances at the caller ID.

“It’s…Jace,” Maia says. “Do you want me to…?”

Clary swallows thickly. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and realize golden boy’s call is what triggered such an intense reaction in her. Maia rejects the call and helps Clary off the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Clary says again.

“Clary, did he hurt you?” Maia asks abruptly. Her voice is low and quiet and sure - she already knows the answer.

Clary begins to shake her head, but stops. "He didn't," she says shakily. "But...when I went to confront him after I found out he was the Owl- I shouldn't have gone after him. It was stupid. I was just so shocked and scared and-" she cuts herself off with another involuntary sob.

Maia is suddenly overcome with the need to protect her. Whether it's because Clary's young or her friend or just another girl who didn't deserve the horrible things that have happened to her, she doesn't know, but it doesn't stop her wanting to skin the person who's hurt her alive.

Clary clears throat and goes on, "I fought the Owl and he won. And I tried to reach out to him, to get him to break free from Lilith's control. I- I told him I loved him...and he threw me off an eight-story building and shattered my spine."

She's not crying anymore. Not really. Her eyes are red and puffy and her jaw is still quivering, but instead of tears, there is a cold, resigned look in her eyes.

And Maia feels like throwing up.

"Are you-" she tries to speak - but there are really no words for this situation. "God, Clary, that's...are you okay? I mean, how-"

"Magnus," Clary says, and for some reason there is an edge of guilt to her tone. "And Simon, and Iratze, and some Shadowhunter medics. But mostly Magnus. Because all he does is walk around solving problems that I caused."

Maia swallows. "Clary, some guy breaking your spine isn't your fault."

"But everything else was."

Maia doesn't ask her to elaborate. Whatever it is, it doesn't feel like a conversation to be had tonight.

Instead, she changes the subject back. "You can't look at Jace the same way, can you?"

"No," Clary admits, her voice cracking. She leans back against the wall, the bone-deep tiredness she feels evident in her eyes. "No, and it's not fair because this wasn't his fault! But I can't- I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him to kiss me or say my name or tell me he's sorry or that he loves me. I can't stop thinking about how stupid I felt when I told him I loved him and he just laughed. I can't stop thinking about how much it hurt , how I couldn't move ... I just...I want things to go back to the way they were." Fresh tears fill her eyes and she shakes her head, trying to will them away.

Maia doesn't say anything for a long time. She doesn't know what Clary's feeling. She was never in that situation. And she's certainly never broken her back. But while it's a vastly different situation, she knows a thing or two about being left for dead by people who are supposed to love you.

"I know," she says quietly.

Clary looks at her, fresh horror on her face. "You do?"

"Yeah," Maia purses her lips. "My abusive ex is back in town. And I won't let him leave." Clary blinks and tilts her head like a confused puppy. Maia can't help but savour the affectionate thought as she continues to explain: "He was sent by this organization to help Simon with the Mark on his head and I won't let him leave until Simon's safe."

"He's a Downworlder?" Clary asks.

Maia nods. She doesn't want to go into detail. "Point is, sometimes people you're supposed to trust will hurt you. And it doesn't matter whether they meant to or not. Whatever you're feeling - anger or pain or whatever else - you're allowed to feel it."

Clary looks at her for a moment, letting the words sink in. Then she steps forward and hugs her.

Maia is stunned for a second, not having expected it, but it's not a bad feeling, being wrapped up in Clary Fairchild's arms (no - she's Clary Fray right now, no big intimidating Shadowhunter name attached to her, no legacy. Just a scared and angry teenage girl searching for any comfort she can find in a life that offers none.) She's small but muscular under her skin, her body running hot from all the crying as she presses her face into the crook of Maia's neck, wetting it with tears. Maia returns the hug, and feels instantly calmer and warmer, and they stand like that for a long time, reminding themselves and each other that they're not alone.

They're not alone.

[bytheangell]

it runs in the family

(Read on AO3) (( A/N: I know there’s some debate on how the ‘tapping into one another’s feelings’ works with the parabatai bond, so for the sake of this fic we’re going with: you can totally do it, either consciously or with them just seeping through when they’re strong enough.)) (also TW: coping mechanisms that can definitely be inferred as self-harm)

It isn’t often that Isabelle is the one holding everything together. Jace is the fighter, the first on the field and the last to leave it during every mission. He never shies away from taking a hit to protect her, or Alec, or any of the other Shadowhunters, for that matter. Sure, sometimes he’s a little too brash, but it’s just who he is and she loves him for it. And Alec? Alec is a born leader and her big brother through and through. Even if he wasn’t technically her commanding officer there’s no way he’d let his guard down for even a second if she might be in danger. They both know she’s more than capable in handling herself but that doesn’t stop his older sibling instincts from kicking in the moment she’s in trouble.

It isn’t just in the field, though - they’re there for her for the emotional moments as well. Jace takes her out for comfort food and threatens to beat up any person who ever dares to break her heart, and Alec offers a shoulder to cry on more than once after she finds out about Robert’s affair, or after their mother’s de-runing. Both of them stay by her side (when she allowed them to) during the ugliest moments of her Yin Fen recovery. She has no doubts that they’re both there for her through thick and thin, no matter what.

So when she starts to notice them spiraling - Jace first and Alec close behind - she’s caught off guard. She isn’t used to being the one in the position to help. This might actually be the first time she has enough of her life together to even be able to consider acting as someone else’s support instead of the other way around.

She tries to reach out to them, of course - hoping to start a conversation innocently enough and branch into a more serious discussion. It never works. They deflect, grow defensive, and shut down in true Lightwood fashion. So she falls back for the first few days, hoping they’ll sort themselves out and settle like they always have in the past.

But this is unlike anything they’ve faced before, and they don’t settle. In fact, things only go from bad to worse.

After just a few days she can’t continue to stay silent. She offers help, insists they lean on her. They won’t have it. They won’t talk to her, doubtless trying to protect her, but that doesn’t mean she can’t see the way they both change after the night of the explosion. They’re both irritable and hiding in their work;Jace is out on patrol more hours than not.  Every time she sees Jace his eyes lose a little more light, a little more life. He volunteers for the most dangerous missions and his actions become reckless. Alec hides it better, at least, but the unrest and guilt he feels through their parabatai bond weighs on him... and that’s on top of the guilt he feels over Magnus’ loss of magic. He tries to be strong for Jace’s sake, for Magnus’, and for her own, but Isabelle can see him cracking at the edges and wonders how long it’ll be until he breaks.

It’s less than a week before Jace snaps. She sees the broken mirror in the bathroom, shards of glass littering the floor, and follows the trail the drops of blood leading out of the room make though she already knows where they’ll end. Unsurprisingly she finds herself standing outside Jace’s room, and opens the door without knocking. It looks like a hurricane tore through it. Anything on a shelf or a tabletop is now on the floor. Chairs sit askew, some knocked over entirely, and there’s a mark on the wall with the same tell-tale drying crimson that brings her here.

“Oh, Jace.” She says softly, the name escaping her lips in a painful sigh. She shuts the door again and retreats, asking him later about his bandaged hand.

“Hit the punching bag a little too hard,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Jace-” she starts to argue. He can’t keep lying to her like this, he needs to let her in.

“Drop it.”

There’s a dangerous edge to his voice, one she isn’t sure she’s ever heard directed at her before.

It silences her immediately and she turns away before she says something she’ll regret.

She’s walking by the training room when the sound of somebody actually hitting the punching bag a little too hard draws her attention. Spotting Alec in the room isn’t surprising; seeing him in jeans instead of workout clothes (the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier tossed to the side), however,  is definitely unusual. He obviously didn’t plan on ending up here. The next thing that catches her off-guard is the way he’s beating the bag - because he isn’t just training, he’s attacking it, sending it swinging every which way with a force more akin to rage than his usual frustration. His breathing is heavy and Isabelle can’t quite tell if the moisture on his face is only sweat or tears, too.

“Alec?” She tries hesitantly from the doorway. He doesn’t even register her presence, letting out a noise that’s as much a scream as it is a cry while his hits intensify; even from a distance Isabelle can see his knuckles split.  “Alec! ALEC!” Before she knows what she’s doing she’s crossing the room, grabbing her brother by the shoulder to pull him away from the punching bag.

Alec, startled by the sudden touch in the heat of the moment he’s lost in, spins toward her with the swing of a fist she narrowly dodges, the arm falling to his side when he sees her and stares with confusion.

“Alec what the hell ,” Izzy gasps, eyes wide.

“You should know better than to sneak up on someone like that,” he huffs, like this is her fault somehow.

“I was yelling your name.” She points out, eyes dropping to his hands. “Let me see that,” she demands, pulling out her stele.

“It’s fine. I deal with it later.”

“Alec, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine, just drop it.” He snaps, eyes narrowing, and Izzy’s struck with a moment of dejavu.

“You too? You sound like Jace.” No sooner do the words leave her mouth does Isabelle pause. “Alec, you’re not--”

“It’s fine,” he repeats for a third time, but he isn’t talking about his hand this time. “I’m just keeping tabs on him. It isn’t like I can keep half of it out anyway.”

She knows what he’s doing now - why he’s down here with a fury she isn’t used to seeing in this brother. “Tapping into the bond while he’s like this isn’t good for you, Alec.” She knows he means well. He wants to make sure Jace is alright, and if he isn’t, Alec wants to know exactly how not alright he is. But that doesn’t mean he can shoulder the pain they’re both feeling at the same time, especially not if this reaction is any proof.

“I’ve got it under control, Izzy.” He sighs. “I wish I could say the same for Jace. I’m worried about him. I know he’s done stupid things before, but I’m really worried this time.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, looking at him with dark eyes full of concern. “I know the feeling.”

---

When Jace volunteers himself for a high-risk mission Izzy isn’t surprised to find Alec agreeing to go right behind him. Jace glares, vaguely aware he’s being babysat, but Alec pretends not to notice when he makes some off-handed comment about taking the reins on anything involving the escaped convicts. Of course Izzy knows better, and with just a moment’s pause for consideration she’s rounding out the patrol by throwing her own name onto the roster.

“What?” She asks with an innocent shrug. “I’ve been spending too much time in the Weapons room. Don’t want to get rusty, do I?”

She doesn’t know what to expect with the three of them out on the field together but no amount of imagining could prepare her for what goes down. Jace, running out ahead without a plan, nearly getting himself killed in his recklessness. Alec thinking quick to step in and save the situation but not quick enough to stop Jace from getting hurt. She made the mistake of thinking they could hold it together when it mattered, when lives were at stake. She was wrong.

And so Isabelle, despite her best intentions, now stands helpless at a distance before she’s able to step in to take control and finish the job. She listens as Jace yells at her and walks away, not even trying to hear reason.

She wants to help him, but instead she feels herself losing him more and more with every step away from her he takes... and she can’t think of a single thing she can do to stop it.

---

Isabelle has a little extra work to do for her end of the report after Jace’s actions in the field, but once it’s done she’s eager to hand it off to Alec and be done for the day. She stops by Alec’s office, only giving one short knock before making her way inside like she normally does.

“Hey Alec, I finished up the forensi--” she starts, already holding out the paperwork she came to drop off in her hands when she notices the way Alec brings both hands immediately up to his face and turns away from her.

“Hey Iz,” he manages, and though she can hear him fighting to keep his tone even there’s a crack he doesn’t manage to control.

“Alec what’s wrong?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that the report? Here, I’ll take it,” he swings around in his chair, eyes red and face lightly flushed, but to his credit he manages an almost convincing neutral expression.

“Alec,” she repeats with pleading eyes, holding the papers away from him now so he can’t reach them. The report can wait.  

“It’s just… you saw him out there, Iz. It’s so overwhelming all the time, it just never stops. The guilt, the anger, the frustration… he can’t keep going on like this.”

“And neither can you.” She doesn’t just mean the parabatai bond either, and the pointed look she gives him makes that very clear. “Clary isn’t your fault as much as it isn’t his. Magnus either. You can’t keep carrying the weight for both of you.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Alec mutters.

“No, it isn’t. None of this is easy for me. I’m watching the two of you lose control more and more each day and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I might not be bound to you but I’m still your sister and I can’t keep watching my brothers self-destruct at arm’s length, it isn’t fair!”

Alec falls very quiet after her outburst and for a moment or two Izzy is positive she said the wrong thing and that he’s about to kick her out and never speak to her again. Maybe it’s selfish of her, but she refuses to allow herself to fall into the same pit as Alec and Jace - she wants to help them, but she won’t allow them to drag her down into silent denial with them in the process.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She allows the briefest flicker of a smile before her phone is in her hand, dialing a number and bringing it up to her ear. “Alec’s office, now.” She hangs up before the person on the other end can argue and a few minutes later Jace is standing in the doorway, hesitating at the sight of them.

“Emergency Lightwood Sibling meeting. Shut the door.”

They might not want to let her help them but she’s beyond giving them the option. She’s been going about this all wrong - they didn’t need her to stand by and be supportive, to try and talk and offer condolences and reassurances. They didn’t need her to be there waiting for whenever they decide to come around and talk to her. What they need - and what she fully intends to give them - is a reality check.

“I know I’m your kid sister, but I’m not some fragile little girl. I’m your equal. Both of you . And you need to start talking to me and letting me help before this gets out of control and someone dies out there. Again . What happened with Lilith is neither of your faults, but if this keeps up and something else happens, this time it will be on you.”

Isabelle knows the words are harsh but she also knows that Alec takes his ability to lead very seriously, as does Jace. Even though she almost can’t bring herself to say them, once the words are out and she sees the way Jace diverts his gaze towards the floor and Alec shifts away from her in his chair it’s clear that they have the desired effect.

“And if you aren't going to talk to me, at least talk to someone, because neither of you can keep going on like this. Look at you.”

She looks pointedly between Jace and Alec, her gaze dropping down to Alec’s newly re-bandaged hands. Jace’s eyes narrow at the telltale site of it knowing, as it always is with Alec, that anything he doesn’t immediately fix with an iratze is intentional. “I thought you stopped that,” Jace says quietly.

Alec glances down at the scarring cuts still healing on Jace's own hands, left over from the other day’s outburst. “I didn't think you would start.”

It dawns on Jace what Alec is talking about and he looks close to tears, mirroring the state Isabelle found Alec in minutes before.

“I'm sorry. You shouldn't have… I shouldn't have let it get bad enough for you to feel, I didn't realize…” As if for the first time, Jace seems to be thinking of how his actions are affecting more than just him and Izzy knows she’s finally getting through. This is the push they needed, to pull themselves together not for their own sakes, but for each other’s.

“See? This is what happens when we push each other away. We’re supposed to be a team. No, screw that, we’re a family . Neither of you have to deal with all of this alone. Let. Me. Help. You.”  

Alec and Jace mumble something and Izzy crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised. “What was that?” “Okay.” “Fine.”

Come the slightly louder replies, and she allows herself the briefest flicker of a smile at her victory. It doesn’t last long, knowing the circumstances that made it necessary.

“I’m going to call mom and see if she wants to have us all over for dinner tonight like she’s been talking about all week. No cases. No patrols. No paperwork. One night to unwind and recharge. Deal?”

She can’t help but sound a little too eager as she makes the suggestion because it’s as much for her as it is for them. She needs this. She misses her brothers, her mother, her family . Not a day has gone by since the explosion that she didn’t consider how easily she could’ve lost any one of them and it’s a thought that keeps her up at night. Who knows how many more chances they’ll have to be together like this? She always knew it was part of the job… they all did. But it’s never felt as real as it does now.

If they can sense the desperation in her tone they’re kind enough not to mention it.

“That sounds really nice, actually.” Jace is the first to agree. And then, after a pause, adds, “Thanks, Izzy.”

“It does, she’ll really like that.” Alec agrees. “Thanks.”

Neither of them have to say that it isn’t the idea of dinner they’re taking her for.

“You’re welcome.”

It isn’t going to be easy, and it isn’t going to be quick, but they’re going to make it through this. Maybe a little worse for wear, but when aren’t they these days? So long as they stick together they can handle whatever the world - Shadow or otherwise - throws at them.

Starting tomorrow.  

[wolfypuppypiles]

Aftermath: Chapter 2

Izzy had been so tired after everything that Alec insisted she get some more sleep. He tucked her in, after checking over her wound, and fluffed her pillows as she tried to convince him to see Clary.

“You should talk to her, she needs support right now.”

Alec shook his head. He couldn’t imagine going in there after what he did.

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Alec, she’s hurting and Jace and Simon are grieving the same loss that she is, they can’t be her rock while they’re crumbling too. They need you.”

Alec sat down again, settling into the chair he’d been in all morning.

“You need me too.”

“You can go when I’m sleeping just-“

Alec wanted to help, he wanted to ease the pain that he caused but even the thought of seeing Clary and his brother made him feel like he was going to throw up again. But he knew he needed to do it. He couldn’t avoid them forever. He just needed time to prepare.

He sighed and pushed her back into the bed as she tried to get up and force him to go.

“Okay, Okay. I’ll talk to her, just stay here okay? I’ll wait till you fall asleep, I just need… time to think of what to say.”

Izzy relaxed, knowing Alec wouldn’t go back on his word. She nodded and took his hand, closing her eyes, and praying that it would all work out okay.

Alec waited till Izzy’s breaths evened out, and until he was sure she was sleeping soundly. He would have liked to stay there all day but he knew he couldn’t leave it any longer. He needed to apologize to Clary. And Jace. And Simon. And Luke.

God, what a mess. If he thought about it too long he’d drown in the weight of the guilt and he’d never be able to look at them again. So, he took a deep breath and stopped thinking. He marched over to Clary’s room and stopped in front of the door.

He could hear her sniffling but it wasn’t the terrible wailing he’d heard last night, and he couldn’t hear anyone else in the room. His hand froze an inch from the wood of the door for a minute before he could bring himself to knock.

He had never been very nice to Clary and they had never been close, but he’d been teaching her how to be a shadowhunter over the past few weeks and he hoped that he would help more than his presence would hurt.

The sniffling stopped and footsteps came to the door. When it opened, Clary was standing there in old pyjamas with a red face and tear filled eyes. Alec didn’t know what to say but Clary just walked back to her bed and sat down, seeming to wait for Alec to join her.

She hadn’t shouted at him, or told him she hated him so this was already going better than Alec could have hoped.

He closed the door behind him and sat beside her on the soft mattress. When she spoke, her voice was rough and wobbly from misuse after all the screaming from last night. She was hurting inside and out Alec winced at the pain he could hear from her, pain he inflicted.

“I’m so sick of crying. But I can’t stop. I just keep remembering that she’s gone. Simon and Jace wanted to stay with me but they lost her too so I sent them away to… process.”

Alec squeezed his fingers in his lap, to the point of pain, in order to make himself say the words that had been screaming through his head ever since he woke up, covered in blood, in that hallway.

“Clary, I am so, so sorry. I’d do anything to get back that time. I’d do anything to make this right.”

Clary shook her head and Alec was afraid she’d kick him out or tell him she hated him. But she didn’t. In a small, defeated voice, she said the hardest thing she could have.

“I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault. I forgive you, Alec.”

Alec’s vision blurred with tears. He didn’t know what to say. Before he could decide Clary spoke again, her breath speeding up and becoming heavier with the threat of tears.

“But I miss her so much, and it hurts so bad.” The tears spilled over for them both, and Clary’s shoulders shook.

“Tell me how to be a shadowhunter, tell me how to use this to make me strong.”

Alec finally lifted his eyes to her and saw the endless amount of pain in her eyes. He wished it were that simple.

“Sometimes pain is just pain, Clary. It doesn’t make you stronger it just….hurts.”

The girl let out a sob and sank towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. He almost didn’t want to touch her, to stain her with the blood that would always be on his hands. But this wasn’t about him. She needed someone to hold her up and for now that was him.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Alec wrapped an arm around her and tried to sound reassuring.

“The demon is dead, you killed it. The only thing to do now is mourn.”

“Is there a rune for that?”

Alec suddenly remembered that she wouldn’t know. This was something he could do. He pulled his stele from his pocket and gently took Clary’s arm.

“Yes. It won’t ease your suffering but it’s a mark to remember her. Shadowhunters wear them to symbolize our loss.”

Clary watched as Alec burned the rune into her arm, the stinging helped clear her head and the mark, burning red, made her feel a little closer to her mother, like she was still there with her.

Once done, she leaned back against Alec and sighed.

“Thank you.”

They sat for a few moments until Clary spoke again.

“I’m sorry for hurting Izzy, I just couldn’t think of any other way to get her off you. I tried to be careful. How is she?”

Alec rubbed her arm, even while grieving she was thinking of others.

“She’s fine. She’s resting now. And you don’t have to apologize, you saved her and I. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her, even to save myself, I just couldn’t. She’s my little sister, I couldn’t even wing her. I would have let her kill me if you hadn’t stopped her. So, thank you.”

“I’ve never had a big brother before and now that I have Jace it’s…complicated. Do you ever think we’ll be as close as you and Izzy?”

Alec shrugged and pulled her closer, she had lost so much while being thrown into a world she didn’t know. He didn’t know how she was still so strong.

“It might take time but having an older brother just means having someone that will protect you while still being really annoying.”

Clary let out a little laugh and Alec rubbed her arm.

“He’ll always love you no matter what, that’s what family is. You don’t have to be related you just have to love them. Like Luke and Simon do for you.”

Clary nodded, thinking about her small family, even smaller now, and how the only one left she was related to, only came into her life recently. Alec’s voice was small and unsure but he meant every word.

“Izzy really likes you and I know you and I don’t get along very often, and I know that’s my fault. But… we can be your family too. Jace is our brother so that kind of means we’re connected now.”

Clary smiled and looked up at him, immensely grateful.

“Thank you, Alec.”

He smiled as she yawned and tucked her head back to his shoulder.

“Did you get much sleep?”

“No, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And the demon and Izzy and…”

Alec nodded and stood from the bed, taking her hand hesitantly to pull her with him.

“Well, Izzy really wanted to see you and I wanted to check on her anyway. You should sleep, I’ll stay with you both and wake you if you have any nightmares.”

Clary’s lip wobbled again and she nodded, smiling.

“Okay.”

He led her back to the infirmary where Izzy was awake and shifting in her bed. Her face was creased in pain but brightened with a smile when she saw Clary, who raced over and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you!”

“I’m sorry about your Mom!”

Both girls were teary eyed but happy to see each other and Alec gave them a moment before insisting on drawing more runes on Isabelle.

“Lay back down, Iz. You shouldn’t be moving around too much. Clary, you can take that bed there, you need to rest too.”

Izzy let out a small laugh and raised her eyebrows at Clary.

“Watch out, I think Alec is adopting you as a little sister. He can be overprotective but he gives the best hugs.”

Clary smiled as Alec did, shaking his head, and got into the bed beside Izzy.

Once done with Izzy’s runes, Alec pulled a chair between the two beds and settled into it, content to watch over the girls as they slept.

Izzy rolled onto her side to see the other two and smiled at her big brother.

“Do you remember that lullaby mom used to sing to us before bed? When we were still scared of the dark?”

Alec nodded. “It was in French. Of course, it didn’t really help that she used to tell us the dark is only scary outside the institute and that we should always keep our weapons close. Being aware of demons and monsters as kids is always going to make you scared to go to sleep in the dark.”

Clary smiled at the fondness in their voices, remembering the way her own mother used to read her stories before bed.

Izzy spoke through her yawn, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

“Can you sing it Alec? It always helped keep the nightmares away.”

Alec shook his head and looked ready to protest but Clary joined it to Izzy’s chorus of plea’s.

“Please Alec? I’ve never heard you sing before and my heads too loud to go to sleep on my own.”

Well he couldn’t say no to both girls, could he? Alec sighed in defeat and leant over to kiss Izzy’s forehead and pull another blanket over Clary.

Finally, he sat and begrudgingly started singing. It was soft and quiet in the usually busy institute and although Alec hadn’t heard it since his childhood he remembered every word. It calmed him as it did the girls and he sat and sang until they both drifted off, leaving no nightmares to wake them.

Clary’s nightmares of dead mothers and blood stained friends, turned to memories she didn’t know she still had. Her mother in the mornings before going to school, every birthday and Christmas, every smile and I love you. She missed her mother but she would always love her and she would love this new family too.

 ( yeah sorry this is sad all around. As usual my fanfics can be found on archive of our own and fanfiction.net with the same author name as my url on here or through the links on my blog or just visit my inbox. I love and appreciate all and any support and i love prompts!) ( also @rstolla I hope this is what you wanted)