and in the end she still let hate consume her

Malec fic: Put your head on my shoulder

(Set after 2x12 cause it was too sad so heres fluff  Title and lyrics are from the song by paul Anka
you should listen to it its adorable

Alec couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at the man he loved, while he’d been begged to save him. The hateful burning in his eyes as the man he thought to be valentine, begged for help.

“Magnus, I am so sorry. For all you had to go through.” For all I put you through.

The warlock didn’t look up from the floor, whole body sagging in his seat, in absolute exhaustion and pain.
“That agony rune made me relive memories I’ve spent centuries trying to forget.”

Alec took a seat beside him, feeling as if there were a wall between them, one that he’d built with the hands that had shoved Magnus against the wall of Valentines cell.
“Magnus, tell me how to fix this. Just tell me what to do. Please.” Alec wanted to do anything he could to take the pain from Magnus’ eyes, to stop him from hurting. But Magnus only shook his head, sad eyes meeting the shadowhunters, but offering nothing but grief.

Alec fisted his hands against his knees, desperately needing to do something to help. He shifted a little in his seat, feeling restless as he searched for Magnus’ eyes, voice soft and pleading.
“I want to help Mangus, just tell me what you need.”

Magnus looked down at the floor, refusing to look at his boyfriend’s face, as he clasped his ringed hands in front of him. He didn’t want to push Alexander away but if he let him in, the pain would crash over him and he wouldn’t be able to find his way to the surface. The pain that he’d kept away for so long had been released when that agony rune was applied and now his grasp on it was fading.

Alec’s affection would crumble his walls and he’d be in agony all over again.

He could still feel the way Alec had shoved him away, the cold look in his eyes and that hateful curl of his lip. Alec had looked at him as if he were something disgusting and although he knew that hate hadn’t been for him, it still hurt.

His mother had looked at him the same way, when she’d discovered what he was. She saw his eyes and told him he was no son to her, that he was a thing, only deserving of hate. She had refused to touch him again, shoving him away from her as he’d cried out, before she finally left him and ended her life, because of the thing that he was.

He couldn’t shake the pain away, and all he wanted was to be alone, to let the ache rot inside till it consumed him.

The Lightwood knelt in front of him, taking his hands and trying to meet his eyes. Magnus couldn’t look at the misery on his face. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw but he couldn’t block out his words.

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AN: So, here’s a random oneshot I wrote back in August, post 7x06 and never actually finished until a week ago… Yeah, I’m a mess.

Well anyway, better late than never ;)

This was a really bad author’s note, I’m so sorry.

It started out harmless. Absolutely harmless. She didn’t want to be home, in the house she’d left at eighteen, only to be forced to return to a matter of weeks ago. Or rather, she didn’t want to be in the barn. She was haunted by the memories built there, memories that were now proof of failure, memories with someone who’d never love her.

She hated love. Or rather, love hated her. The only love she’d ever known was painful and stabbing and brutally exposing.

She’d fallen in love and she’d been rejected, time and time again. He didn’t love her. He would never love her. He couldn’t find it in himself.

His heart would always belong to her best friend.

She told herself that was okay. That she knew that going in. She knew that Caleb would always love Hanna. She knew the blonde would always love Caleb.

She just didn’t know it would hurt this much. To love and be unloved in return.

Granted, her only other experience with love was the polar opposite. Love was just about the only thing that held them together, through the ruthless tribulations that defined their lives.

Through the disapproving parents, depraved step-sister, anonymous threat trying to kill them both at every turn, the corrupt police beat, the drug addiction, the mental hospital stays and -A team stints.

The love Spencer had shared with Toby had survived it all.

But it couldn’t survive one pregnancy scare.

After it was over, after the relationship that had been a constant in her life for four years straight evaporated in a matter of minutes, she’d skipped classes for the next two days. Her roommate thought she needed a psych evaluation. No way was Spencer Hastings missing classes, for any reason under the sun.

But her red-rimmed, puffy eyes were enough to halt too many evasive questions. No one wanted to mess with a heartbroken girl.

She’d cried herself to sleep for three weeks. She’d felt like her heart was missing from her chest. Like it had been torn out, like Toby had taken it when he walked out the door.

He’d told her he’d always be there for her, no matter what. That she could always reach out if she needed anything.

They both knew it was nothing more than a formality. He could say it in her ear for days, she’d still never call. She was Spencer Hastings. Even with a gun to her head, she didn’t ask anyone for help.

She’d thrown herself into her studies after that. Every second of every day was consumed by books and notes and lectures and projects and study groups.

She never gave herself a free second, because if she did, if she stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped working, she’d break. She’d break and she didn’t know if there was any glue strong enough in this world to put her back together again.

But that could only last for so long. She could only keep herself busy, preoccupy her mind, for so long, until the truth became an inevitable force staring her dead in the face.

She was alone. She was completely and entirely alone, much like right now.

Only now the pain was worse. She had two heartbreaks instead of one and getting through the next moment was sometimes so easy, so effortless, it was as if she’d never met either one of them.

But some moments it was violent and searing and suffocating and that was how she ended up here.

Hanna had asked if she was okay. She’d said she absolutely would be. And she will.

Because even fresh from losing Caleb, she didn’t feel half as bad as she did a year out from losing Toby.

That was what Spain was really about. She went to Spain to get away, get her mind off the blue-eyed boy she’d loved with all her heavy heart.

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