#it's gotten so fucking buried and with twitter being all sorts of fucked its near impossible

[redysetdare]

Still thinking abt how huntsman never got a satisfying ending. Like ik a writer on the show said he did and that his whole arc was wrapped up in his decision to not leave but like... idk it did NOT seem like that AT ALL in the show.

Like when we see him looking at the tea bag???? that's supposed to be read as him deciding not to leave and THAT was our closure??? You gotta be fucking joking right???

Idk what i thought that scene was doing (and seems like a lot of ppl thought it was doing as well because someone had to actually ASK A WRITER ABOUT IT) was that him looking at the teabag was a jumping off point for a redemption arc. He had STARTED asking questions. He didn't show signs of being okay with the answers he got. It felt like a set up for MORE and then we just...didn't get it and we're supposed to just accept that?

And i get it. I get that not everything works out. sometimes shit goes wrong and not every character gets a happy ending...but then why even set up the possibility in the first place? we got ONE episode with him being like that and thennnn nothing? like usually this sort of thing is supposed to feel like a wrapped up arc y'know? cutting it short like this usually is never good unless you want ppl to be mad that a characters arc was cut short.

It just feels like the show didn't have enough episodes to explore everything they were setting up. It feels like if maybe there was more episodes we would've seen more of huntsman questioning everything that was happening and maybe even getting a redemption arc. But we'll never know because monkie kid is stuck to 10 episodes a season fsr and it kinda sucks that things just get dropped and never explored.

[carmenlire]

Heavy is the Head

Read on ao3

Alec wakes slowly. There’s a sliver of light peeking through the open space between his curtains and he feels the familiar weight settle over him.

He lets out a sigh into the pillows. Another day, damn.

Even though he only woke up a few minutes ago, he’s exhausted. It feels like he didn’t even sleep and the thought of facing another day is almost too much to bear. He reaches for his phone and turns the screen on, seeing a few Twitter notifications and the prospective weather for the day. It’s supposed to be a typical summer day in New York: Hot, humid, and gloriously sunny. It feels like the worst sort of irony that his head is a brewing thunderstorm.

Even holding his phone upright is too much effort and he lets it fall back onto his dark sheets, buries his head into his pillows and tries to drown out his thoughts. He doesn’t know how much time he spends in bed. It feels like forever, but he just can’t make himself get up. He doesn’t fall back asleep, can’t, because his mind won’t stop. It’s an overwhelming mix of cyclical thinking that’s destroying him and a mind-numbing jumble of thoughts. It’s like a knot-- he can’t pull any one thing out but the general feelings are obvious.

Everything is so much effort.

He thinks about yesterday and how today will be no different. He’ll get out of bed, shower, and go downstairs for a breakfast that he doesn’t taste. He’ll listen for his assignment and go out on patrol, kill a few demons, and come back to eat an equally tasteless dinner and stay awake for hours until he’s eventually lulled into a fitful sleep. Rinse and repeat for tomorrow.

If he’s being honest with himself, and it’s not like he has a choice, his life seems pretty shit. He's twenty and he's so tired of it all. It’s an endless amount of tomorrows just like today and just the thought of going through the motions and acting like he isn’t dying on the inside seems an impossible feat.

Eventually, he hears a knock on his door and watches dispassionately as Izzy walks in. She’s still wearing pajamas-- it looks like one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts-- and she walks barefoot over to his bed.

He’s staring at the wall and doesn’t react when she sits carefully down on the edge.

“What’s going on big brother?”

Alec knows he should answer but he can’t. His thoughts are a mess and he has a few different answers ready but he can’t separate them into one coherent reply, so he says nothing.

Isabelle looks at him with sad eyes and he’s torn between feeling bad that she’s seeing him like this and being angry that she’s pitying him. He can just imagine her inner monologue. Poor Alec who doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions.

Considering he's still here, he thinks he's doing just fine.

Things are quiet for a few minutes before Izzy breaks the silence.

“I know you don’t want to,” she starts softly, “but you need to get up and get ready.”

Alec is set to ignore her-- he doesn’t have to be in the Control Room for another few hours and he’ll need every minute to build up the energy to move-- when her next words reach him.

“Mom is arriving in New York in an hour.”

Shit, he thinks.

Maryse rises with the sun and goes strong until long after it sets. If she knew Alec was lingering in bed, she’d be in his room dragging him out. Alec doesn’t know what’s wrong with him but whatever it is, his mother wouldn’t let him slide. Unless it’s a fatal injury from a demon, Lightwoods, and shadowhunters in general, aren’t allowed to be out of commission.

He really does need to get ready and he braces himself before sitting up. Just that little movement exhausts him and he doesn’t know how he’s going to survive today, not when he has missions to ace, appearances to keep up, and Maryse to deal with.

Izzy gives him a small smile of encouragement and watches him as he painstakingly rolls out of bed. He stands next to the bed for a minute, scrubbing his face with his hands, before he slowly walks into his bathroom and closes the door so gently it doesn’t make a sound.

He’s so weary of it all. He doesn’t hear the little sigh Izzy lets out, the way her shoulders slump as she watches her brother drag himself through the land of the living.

He’s like a ghost, she thinks. Izzy doesn’t know how Alec manages from day to day. She looks at him sometimes and it’s almost like he isn’t here. He’s not in the room with them, he’s not part of whatever conversation that’s taking place. He’s somewhere else and Izzy doesn’t know how to reach him. He's still the best shadowhunter this institute has, but when he's not working, he's listless.

She’s not blind. Shadowhunters by and large ignore mental health. They are warriors first, last, and always and there’s no room for mental health considerations, given what they do. Izzy doesn’t know one shadowhunter who’s mental health isn’t at least a little dented.

It hurts when it’s her brother, though. She knows the signs. She’d googled them when she had first noticed that Alec was changing. He was becoming even more of a loner than usual and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him genuinely smile. No one else had picked up on anything, but Alec was her big brother. She noticed damn near everything.

She’d cautiously brought the subject up to Jace once. She had hinted at her worry, making vague references and prompting half-sentences, and Jace had just nodded.

Yeah, something is going on with him. I can tell through the bond but I can’t get any specifics, either when I focus on it or when I straight up ask him. He just plays it off and his walls are a mile high and a foot thick. I can’t get to him, Jace had said with mounting frustration and clear disappointment.

Alec is a pro at hiding his feelings and Iz hates it. She’s getting worried, but there’s nothing she can do. Not until Alec lets her in.

Things have to change, she thinks. She doesn’t know how much longer Alec can continue like this.

Alec lingers in the shower. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s like everything is in slow motion. It’s just so much effort and he doesn’t have the energy. Finally, he turns the water off and just stands there for a minute before reaching for a towel.

He gets ready in a daze and by the time he makes it downstairs, Maryse is due any minute. He sloughs through a bowl of oatmeal that might as well be dirt and can’t help the feelings that course through him. On one hand, he’s anxious. He knows he has to keep up his front with his mother and he knows that it’s going to be a herculean task. Maryse doesn’t accept anything less than one hundred percent, and Alec doesn’t even remember what that looks like.

On the other hand, he’s numb. Blissfully empty. Today is one of the days where he feels nothing, where it’s like there’s his body and what he presents to the world but the real him is standing right next to it, a pale imitation. A lonely shadow.

He’s washing his bowl when he hears the clack of heels. Thankfully, he’d recognize that pattern anywhere and turns just as Izzy makes her way into the canteen.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hello, hermano. Mother just arrived.”

“Great,” Alec mutters and starts walking toward the Command Center.

He sees Maryse standing in the middle of the room, looking smug as haughty as usual. Her gaze sweeps around the room, passing him, before they snap back and meet his stare.

He strolls over to her and they exchange perfunctory greetings that do nothing but make Alec resent her a little more.

She gives him a onceover and remarks, “You’re looking well Alec. You’ve been keeping up with your training?”

Alec swallows down a hysterical laugh. “Yes, mother.”

She nods once and it’s as pleased as he’s ever seen her with him. “Good. I’ll have your assignment in a few minutes.”

Alec nods and walks over to a relatively empty table. He checks his email and waits for his orders.

“Fuck,” Alec mutters as he ducks a demon. Today’s been brutal. It’s probably around midnight and Alec is exhausted. He’s lost track of how many demons he’s killed. Patrol tonight had been a never-ending demon deluge and Alec just wants a hot shower and the Institute’s air conditioning. It’s a terrible night to be out on patrol-- the temperature has to be hovering at almost ninety, even though it’s now dark, and the humidity is enough that he feels like he’s fighting through air that’s turned into soup.

He’s sweating like he just ran a fucking marathon and the grip on his weapon is slippery as hell. He’s constantly readjusting and it’s annoying the shit out of him. The demons have gotten a few more hits in than they should’ve and Alec just wants to put this miserable day behind him.

Suddenly fed up with all this bullshit, Alec lunges forward and stabs this particularly perseverant demon through the chest with his seraph blade. It makes one last attempt to hit him and he slices off one of its barbed limbs just as it turns into dust.

But not before it catches him in the shoulder.

“Goddammit,” Alec hisses as he wipes his blade on his jeans and shoves it back through his thigh holster. Luckily, the demon’s ichor isn’t poisonous. It just burns like hell and Alec is beyond ready to head back.

Alec takes out his phone. He has less than fifteen minutes until his shift is officially over and it’ll take that long to get back to the Institute. Looking around, Alec activates his glamour rune in the empty alley. Once that’s done, he takes what’s left of his shirt off and presses it to his shoulder. The wound isn’t deep enough to really worry about and the pain at least makes him feel something.

He doesn’t draw an iratze. At least, not yet.

The trek back is annoying as hell. Sweat keeps dripping in his eyes, his shoulder is soaking through the shirt, and his muscles are screaming.

He walks into the institute without talking to anyone and heads to his room. After closing the door, he throws his shirt into the hamper and strips out of the rest of his clothes. He tosses his phone on his bed as he walks past it. He goes into the bathroom and winces when he turns on the light-- he looks like he’s been made over by a hoard of demons. Which, accurate.

He turns the shower on scalding and steps in, swearing a blue streak when the water hits his shoulder and makes his vision blur as the pain turns white-hot.

There’s a certain kind of satisfaction in that but damned if Alec knows why.

Once he’s scoured himself, he turns the water off the water and grabs a towel. He dries himself and then puts on his sad day pajamas: an ancient hoodie that’s two sizes too big and pajama pants with dancing penguins.

They’re cute and usually make him smile.

Alec climbs into bed and turns off his bedside lamp. He lays in the darkness and reaches for his phone. He fucks around for awhile, scrolling through social media-- checking out Izzy’s snap story, liking some tweets, watching a few videos. He gets sucked in for almost an hour watching a documentary about the solar system before his eyes can’t take the strain and he puts his phone down, moving to his stomach.

Looking over the day, Alec doesn’t know why, but it was just off. He woke up in a piss poor mood and his mother being in town didn’t help. It’s not always this bad. Sometimes it’s worse, but usually he’s just numb. Going through the motions, there’s not too much to complain about. But every so often-- and he’s a little worried the in-between times are growing shorter-- he wakes up and it’s all he can do to get out of bed and start his day. Everything is awful and nothing is right. Those days suck but he has Izzy to at least make him want to tryand survive.

That’s the most he can hope for.

Alec wakes slowly. The sheets are soft and there’s a body snuggling into his side. He loves waking up like this. Over the past year, it’s become more and more common. He privately thinks of the loft as home and it’s his sanctuary from the outside world.

This morning, it doesn’t help.

Before he even opens his eyes, Alec knows that it’s going to be one of those days. He’s going to scratch and claw and bite his way to make it through today. It sounds endlessly exhausting but he’s done it a million times before-- he knows he can do this.

Well, there’s a difference.

It used to be that Alec didn’t hold out much hope for anything. But, then he’d met Magnus and the world had opened up for him. It didn’t fix everything, Angel knows he has a lot of shit to work through, but things are better in a way that he’d never imagined.

It’s been months since he’d last woken up like this. It’s familiar in a distant way. He knows what’s going on and what he can expect. But it doesn’t feel like it should be happening. Things are good but right now he feels empty and a little lost like he’s twenty again. He’d thought he’d moved past this. Apparently not, he thinks.

In the next minute, he starts worrying. This is the first time he’s having a Bad Day since he all but moved in with Magnus. Magnus has seen him at his worst and has always been there for him-- a supportive boyfriend, a shoulder to lean on, someone he can go to without judgment or reservation. But this is different.

This is old-Alec in a way that he doesn’t want Magnus to see. He knows Magnus loves him, but he shouldn’t have to deal with him when he’s like this. Alec knows from past experience that he’s not fun to be around when he's feeling like this. It’s not like he’s always a hoot to hang out with, but he can be particularly volatile and no one needs to witness that.

His thoughts break off as Magnus shifts beside him. Alec stays staring blankly at the ceiling as Magnus squeezes him a little and moves his hand until it’s resting over his heart.

“Morning,” Magnus says in his soft morning voice that usually never fails to make Alec smile.

“Morning, babe,” Alec answers. His voice seems toneless and flat even to him and he hopes Magnus doesn’t notice.

He turns to look at him only to see that Magnus is already eyeing him. Magnus is too shrewd for his own good and Alec feels the weight of his considering gaze. Surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to snap and get defensive.

They stare at each other for a minute, Magnus slowly sweeping his hand side to side in little strokes that comfort Alec.

“Is everything okay, darling?”

There’s a small pause, easily ignored, before Alec answers. “Of course. I woke up next to you, didn’t I?”

Magnus hums and takes a good look at him again. “Alright, as long as you’re sure.”

They lay in silence for long minutes, relaxing and gearing up for the day. After awhile, Alec moves to get up. He kisses Magnus’s hair softly before maneuvering out of his grip. He stands up and scrubs at his face with his hands, a gesture he doesn’t even notice he’s doing.

Magnus does though, but he keeps quiet, giving Alec space.

Alec trudges into the shower. He uses sandalwood shampoo and a few other of Magnus’s products but they don’t give him the joy he usually feels when using them. Everything feels like it’s being filtered through syrup. When Alec leaves the shower and gets dressed, exhaustion pulls at him. He just wants to climb back in bed and sleep until this day is over. But, he can’t. He’s Head of the Institute and that comes with responsibilities that he can’t just ignore and cancel because he’s feeling off. It’s not like he has demon pox. He can carry on and be the best damn Head there’s ever been.

Maybe. But, probably not, Alec acknowledges. His sole goal for today is just to survive. Don’t do anything stupid, don’t snap at anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and don’t let anyone see that you feel like shit.

He tugs on a pair of slacks and ambles over to the nightstand for his phone. Swearing when he sees that he’s running late, he throws on a soft grey v-neck, black blazer, and shoves his feet into a pair of loafers.

Alec strides down the hallway, passing the kitchen where Magnus is drinking tea.

“Alexander, want something to eat?”

Distracted, Alec says, “No thanks, I’ve got to get to the institute. I’m running late.”

“Something to go then? It’ll just take a minute,” Magnus offers.

Alec knows that his answer will disappoint him, but he can’t help but refuse. “No thanks, that’s okay. I’ll eat something once I get there.”

With that, he turns around and leaves the loft. There’s a bit of a breeze and Alec is glad that he decided to wear a jacket today.

He’s walking into the institute and is immediately stopped by several people. He needs to sign off on missions, make notes of issues, inspect a new shipment of whatever the fuck. His mind is a blur and he’s operating on autopilot. He finally makes it to his office where he closes the door. Everyone knows that you do not disturb Lightwood when the door is closed.

He sits down behind his desk and brings his head down to rest against his folded arms. Just five minutes, he thinks, and uses that time to work on his breathing. He’s only been in the institute for an hour and he just wants to sit down and maybe cry.

But he can’t, so after his five minutes are up he gets back to work. He plows through the morning and into the afternoon without stopping, working on answering emails and contacting whomever he needs too-- there’s a request he has to put in with the Clave, a few institutes he needs to talk to about their policy on shadowhunter misconduct, and he’s been called in for a few favors.

He works past lunch and the sun is just starting to dip in the sky when there’s a knock on his door. Honestly, he’s lucky that he made it to almost-- four o’clock-- without anyone barging him, namely Jace or Izzy.

He growls a little in frustration and annoyance, deciding to make whoever wanted to interrupt him cool their heels while he finishes typing this email. However, the door opens and Alec is so angry so fast that it makes him dizzy. He knows it’s irrational and it’s because it’s been a shit day, but he is furious that someone would dare to walk in without being explicitly invited.

He closes his eyes before he sees who it is, breathing deep and trying to calm down. In the next minute, there’s a gentle hand on his cheek and Alec’s eyes fly open as he instinctively leans into the touch.

Magnus and he stay like that for a few minutes, Magnus slowly stroking his thumb along Alec’s cheekbone and Alec drinking it all in and working on relaxing.

“What are you doing here,” Alec murmurs. He didn’t know how much he needed Magnus, how much just touching him would bring him down.

Magnus keeps up with the touch as he replies in a soft voice. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. You left in a rush this morning and I was a little worried.”

Alec swivels his chair around, dislodging Magnus’s hand, before he’s facing Magnus and hugging him. He buries his face in Magnus’s stomach and wraps tight arms around his waist. Magnus lets him and moves one hand to his back, using the other one to card through his hair, gently scratching at Alec’s scalp.

Alec turns boneless, leans into Magnus more, and they stay like that for awhile. Eventually, Alec looks up and asks, “Can we go home?”

Magnus smiles that special Alec smile that makes both of them so happy. “Of course, darling.”

Magnus steps back and opens a portal and a minute later they’re in the loft. Alec takes off his jacket and toes off his shoes as Magnus does the same.

He pads to the bedroom and goes to the dresser that Magnus had given him a few months ago. Opening one of the drawers, he moves clothes around until he gets to the bottom. He pulls out his Bad Day pajamas and changes as quickly as he can. He turns around and sees Magnus casually standing in the doorway watching him with a kind of fondness that makes his heart clutch a little.

“Comfy,” Magnus asks with a quirk of his lips and Alec shrugs.

“They’re the comfiest pair of PJs I have.”

Looking him up and down, Magnus smiles. “I can see that. The penguins are adorable, by the way.”

Alec shrugs again and looks down at the smiling cartoons. “Yeah, well, I like them. They’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” Magnus says quietly.

Alec doesn’t respond but climbs into bed. Once he’s down, he feels a lot of the weight that had settled over him fall off. He’s in their bed and it’s his favorite place to be. Here he can be just Alec.

Today’s Alec is a bit of a mess but that’s okay. He feels okay for the first time since he woke up and discovered today wasn’t going to be one of the bad ones.

While Alec was sinking into the mattress, Magnus was taking off his clothes and when he slides into the sheets, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Alec immediately moves over until he’s almost on top of Magnus, a leg hitched over his, an arm across Magnus’s stomach, Alec’s head resting on his shoulder.

Alec lets out a breath and everything is quiet as Magnus plays with the hair at Alec’s nape.

It could be hours or minutes later when Magnus whispers, “Want to talk about it?”

Alec thinks about it. If he doesn’t talk, he might annoy Magnus because obviously, something is going on. Plus, this will almost certainly happen again and Alec doesn’t want to hide something like this from Magnus. Not anymore. He doesn’t know what’s changed between now and this morning but he wants to let Magnus in. He wants that comfort he knows only his boyfriend can provide.

“Not a good day,” he whispers back.

“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll just lay here until you feel better. How does that sound?”

Alec moves closer, tightening his grip a bit. “Sounds great. Thank you, Magnus.”

He feels a brush of lips against his forehead. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Alexander. I am here whenever you need me, however you need me. I love you and I want nothing more than to be here, in this bed, with you right now.”

Alec closes his eyes and breathes. His chest doesn’t feel so tight and his thoughts aren’t such a jumble of static anymore. He can breathe. He’s been trying to all day but it’s not until now that he finds it, finds his equilibrium again.

They lay in the silence all evening and Alec falls asleep at peace.

Alec wakes slowly. The sun is shining through the sheer curtains and Alec squints as he turns away. On his other side now, he’s facing Magnus and Alec takes a minute to look. His husband is as beautiful as ever and Alec thanks the Angel for the millionth time that he gets to have this.

He can’t ignore the niggling feeling that’s creeping its way into his chest, though. Alec almost doesn’t recognize it. Almost.

It’s been years since he felt like this, since he had a Bad Day that was enough to lay him low. He thinks over his schedule at the institute and remembers that he has a few meetings and is expecting a large shipment of weapons this afternoon that he had planned to inspect with Izzy.

While he was thinking, Magnus had woken up and when he looks up to his face, Magnus is staring back at him, blinking sleepily.

“Good morning, darling.”

“Morning,” Alec’s voice cracks.

Magnus’s gaze sharpens and he takes Alec in. He brings a hand up and places it on his cheek.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Bad day,” Alec manages.

He scoots closer until there’s not an inch of space between them and tucks his head under Magnus’s chin. Magnus wraps his arm around Alec.

Alec thinks about his day, all of his commitments. He thinks about this feeling in his heart, how his head feels like it's in a fog and that everything seems blurry.

The decision is easy.

“Do you have any consultations today?”

Magnus’s reply is easy when he says, “No. I was planning on staying home and catching up on my correspondence.”

“I think I’m going to stay home today,” Alec says softly. “I don’t want to be around people right now.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Alexander." Magnus's voice is soft as he continues. "Want to go into the living room? We can watch The Lion King or something else if you’d rather.”

Alec breathes in deep. “No. Let’s just stay here for a bit. If that’s okay?”

Magnus’s arm tightens around Alec, pulling him that much closer, and he presses a kiss onto the top of his head. “Of course, darling. We’ll stay here as long as you need.”