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#matthew fairchild

I want Matthew to be happy with someone as much as the next person but for that to happen he must be happy with himself first. Hopefully telling Cordelia will help him or meet someone or literally ANYTHING but I just want this boi to be happy and quit drinking and live his life without any guilt. 

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Can y'all stop being so vicious towards Matthew to the point of sometimes wishing violence upon him? Like think of how that looks to people who struggle with addiction and/mental illness. Think of how much that hurts. You aren’t just attacking a fictional character, you are attacking real people who might see themselves in him. Yes I know he has fucked up badly and continues to do so. But you cannot ignore the circumstances that put him in this position.

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Jesse: Where is my locket?

Lucie: I’ve hidden it somewhere where you’ll never find it.


Jesse: It’s in that box isn’t it?


Lucie: *whacks Jesse unconscious*

Lucie, when Jesse wakes up: Now I’ve hidden it somewhere where you’ll never find it.

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I believe, at this point in the series, it’s unrealistic to think everything is going to be ‘rainbows and sunshine’ between the merry thieves and Alastair. But I think ‘despise’ is a strong word. In fact, Alastair was willing to let bygones be bygones at the end of CHOG, so I don’t think he hates Matthew. However, I believe Matthew dislikes him very much because of what happened during their Academy days. Like I’ve said before several times, even though we’ve seen the BEGINNING of some very good character development in Alastair, we haven’t reached the END of his arc. But his characterisation in CHOG didn’t bother me. In fact, it was everything leading up to TLH in the space of two short stories (’Nothing but shadows’ and ‘Cast long shadows’) that doesn’t sit well with me. You can find a breakdown of that, here.

Furthermore, even though I’d like to see Alastair develop a good friendship with Ariadne, I wouldn’t want him to be limited to just socialising with people who’ve experienced similar things to him in terms of, “being a POC in a white-dominated environment.” As a POC myself and having lived in a white-dominated country, as well as, attended multicultural primary/secondary schools, things like that only accomplish in creating more of a divide.

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This is a reasonable argument. I actually forgot about the quote, but I now remember that it was from the scene between the two characters on a bridge. I admit that they’re close but, personally, their bond didn’t seem as strong to me. Yes, there’s a difference between noticing something and confronting the other person about it. However, there are reasons why they haven’t confided in each other yet. (1) Matthew cannot bear to tell anyone about his greatest sin because he’s crippled with self-loathing, and cannot bring himself to face judgement. (2) James in incapable of voicing his concerns over the bracelet, simply because he isn’t aware of the effect it has on him. 

Understandable as this may be, I think some people in this fandom, myself included, expected more from them. But I’m sure their relationship dynamic will improve in future books.

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The sun was setting on the third day Tessa was missing. There had been no witnesses and no evidence of any foul play. Nothing to do but search and wait. Will had sent messages to every Warlock he could count on.

No replies yet.

The room was cold, dimly lit and dusty. It had been too long since Lucie had been up here. Shadows played upon the stone walls and angeled themselves against the hanging weaponry into the the tight corners of the cathedral ceiling.

Lucie kept looking over her shoulder for a bony set of hands reaching out for her. She was worried, as everyone was.

“On the outside, you need to be pulled together. Calm. Collected. But, Lucie darling, on the inside you can crumble. Rhwygwch eich hun ar wahân. Rhwygwch eich hun yn ddarnau, ond cofiwch galon annwyl; dewrder.”

The ghost of Linette Herondale smiled faintly as she pointed to the place where her heart used to beat. “Real courage is keeping your secrets.”

Lucie shivered at the sound of the voice she could hardly recall from her childhood. She sucked in a breath, goosebumps coating her skin even through the thick wool of her knitted sweater. Bright yellow and itchy as heck; made by Bridget as a get-well gift.

She wished her brother hadn’t made her wear it, but she couldn’t get into her dresses. Cordelia had paired with a hideously long, dark navy skirt that likely mimicked Lucie’s brooding mood.

Cordelia sat on the floor, wiping down Cortana with quiet care. She was humming, content, and Lucie noted she wore Linette’s diamond on her ring finger.

Lucie looked away, jealousy creeping around the corner. She wasn’t entirely swept out to sea. She knew what they were all hiding; her mother was kidnapped and they had been sentenced to baby-sit the injured girl.

Lucie had a very educated guess on who had taken her mother like a theif in the night. Logic was not obvious in the kidnapper himself, but he was cunning with his reasoning.

Lucie was convinced Belial was brains.

She only knew because the dream was real.

Lucie, exhausted, sighed, her eyes dazed. She needed to find out more of Belial’s plan. It was easy to be ignorant of the details and Lucie had noted Tatiana hadn’t even looked at the dismembered body. That to Lucie seemed odd and worth a second thought.

Grace. Grace would know.

Matthew glanced at Lucie as though he could tell what she was thinking. These days they seemed to be on the same page.

She had suspected he was worried and his demeanor seemed uncertain all day. Bags lined up under his green eyes, dull with a deep tiredness. Despite his crisp and clean clothes, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

When Lucie had awoken, confused and scared, his had been the first face she saw. He had smiled and kissed her forehead. When he exhaled his genuine relief, her heart melted. Now, as she thoughts of Jesse crept into her heart, guilt tugged at her. The pain burned like a gnawing rat. The guilt had her thinking maybe she owed Matthew an explanation.


Lucie was momentarily distracted by the tug of reality, a heavy throbbing in her side. She swore she felt blood pulsating through the thick threshold of the bandages as a wave of nausea crashed into her. “My secrets get me in trouble, Nain.

Linette patted Lucie’s arm like she might have in life; a grandmotherly gesture that had been meant to comfort. The feeling sent bubbles of ice courting Lucie’s veins and a flutter in her belly. “Lucie, your secrets are what makes you special.”

With her mouth drawn into a thin line, Lucie scowled, turning her eyes on her brother in an attempt to dissuade further conversations. She watched quietly how easily James’s feet moved; choreographed to Matthew’s own movement. It hadn’t taken Lucie long before she realized she was sitting in a scene she could not be a part of and had been all afternoon. Now she understood why James insisted.

Matthew was staring at her and so was James.

They were worried about her.

The thoughts troubled her; knowing at this moment she should be rounding Grace up. Right now, Lucie should be searching and demanding the truth but instead she was stuck in the training room being babysat.

Lucie couldn’t deny that she felt hurt to be treated like an invalid. In her heart she knew that she needed to strengthen her body and mind. But still. She was weak. Her blue eyes were heavy as they watched the boys do the dance of death with their daggers.

Suddenly breathless, she wanted to sleep. Disappear for awhile.

It had been almost two days since she awoke and two full days since her mother vanished. Today she felt alright enough to stand without getting dizzy or sick to her stomach. James had encouraged her to watch him and Matthew spar in the training room during their session in the afternoon since she felt better. Getting out of bed would do her well.

Lucie reluctantly agreed to keep the pestering of her brother at bay.

James had thought it would be a good idea to get her mind off Jesse, their mother and her wound that was just starting to heal. There was another thing James hoped his sister hadn’t yet noticed and wouldn’t for quite some time.

James decided in his heart he would love it, because it was a complication as much as a miracle.

Uncle Jem had told Will in confidence the condition of Lucie once he returned to the Institute.

James had overhead and saw Will crying. He knew he couldn’t tell Matthew yet. Especially not since Lucie hadn’t figured it out.

James wasn’t blind to their new connection. He could only speculate something huge occurred between them since Matthew was so tight lipped. He had seen the discouraged and angry looks on Matthew’s face everytime Jesse’s name was said.

James had also witnessed the quiet and desperate look in his eyes as Matthew held Lucie’s hand when she was sound asleep.

James knew his sister remained oblivious to Matthew’s want to possess her as his wife. He silently applauded Matthew’s efforts. He knew his parabatai had tried to ignore the fact that Lucie was calling for another boy instead him. Although Matthew was clearly upset, he continued to tend to Lucie day and night.

Today he had carried her up four sets of stairs just to prove to Lucie that he could.

Lucie was told she had asked for Jesse every moment she was conscious. Now all she wanted to do was try to remember because she was tired of forgetting. “Why can’t I remember?

The ghost’s mouth curled to the side, an invisible hand lovingly crafting onto Lucie’s shoulder. “Don’t fret dear heart, you will remember.”

Lucie sighed disappointed with herself. Her blue eyes were shrouded by her lashes and she turned away from James. Contemplating her next move, she stared wistfully out the only window in the room. From this level in the Institute she could just see the quiet roof tops of the other buildings. No birds. Just pure white snow and a periwinkle sky. Lucie longed to be out in the frozen air. “I highly doubt that.”

Her tone teased sarcasm and her mood darkened as her grandmother shifted to a protective posture. Lucie arched her mousey eyebrows and bit her lip. Her eyes were still focused on the glaring snow reflecting off the glass.

James threw both of his daggers; they sailed through the air like a pair of lethal weapons. Matthew was unprepared, still gazing at Lucie with a fixation James found spineless. With the blinding of an eye, Matthew had suddenly channeled his cat-like reflexes; honed by years of training.

Matthew jumped and somersaulted into the air as the daggers soared beneath him. He landed on his feet with a thud that drew Lucie’s attention.

James groaned and threw two more daggers. The weapons flew over Matthew’s head as he ducked, expertly avoiding decapitation. All four black-handled blades landed in the red center of the target on the the wall.

Matthew grinned, bowing. Even in despair he was ever the actor. Linette and James clapped as Matthew strode over towards Lucie.

Lucie frowned as her brother’s eyebrows knit together as he stood in front of Lucie. No doubt, he had seen the ghost standing beside his sister. His gold eyes were focused on the ghost of their grandmother. “Nain Herondale?”

Linette turned towards her grandson with fringed interest. “My, my. You my boy look like my William more every day.”

James frowned. He didn’t trust his grandmother’s spirit. His gut told him something was wrong. “What are you doing here?”

Linette smirked; a suspicious smile that showed her broken bottom teeth as her gaze looked past her grandson, ignoring him once more. “Byddwch yn ofalus yr hyn yr ydych yn dymuno amdano.”

She spoke to quickly for Lucie to be sure that her words held an unforgiving weight. “That one. He’s one of your secrets.”

Lucie blanched.

Linette laughed, a jarring sound. “A secret that will soon be exposed as expected.”

Lucie scowled, glancing at Linette. “Speaking in rhyme, now Nain?”

Linette grinned broadly. “Fe welwch gariad.”

Lucie stayed quiet, not trusting her mouth. Her lips stayed clamped together even though she wanted desperately to scream Welsh obscenities. Hastily, her shaking hands pulled the blanket up, over her lap.

Lucie shivered as Linette’s transparent fingers tapped the edge of her collar bone.

The apparition said nothing else, only stood gravely silent at Lucie’s side, her blue eyes set on the Fairchild boy.


Will Herondale was tired. He raised his fists, cursing the angels above, his head in his hands and his heart on his sleeve. He coughed, choosing to choke on a new reality.

Lucie would be a mother and Tessa might be dead.

Tears burned in his eyes as he thought the unsettling words: Is this what you want? Giving me more than I can chew? Are you hoping Raziel, that I wil finally renounce? First my daughter. Now my wife. Who’s next? James? Then the maid?

He had spent the last two nights frantically searching the streets of London for his wife instead of tending to his injured and pregnant daughter.

The locals in the bars and pubs believed him to be unlucky and insane.

Now, he sat at his desk as the sun set and Bridget prepared dinner as normal downstairs. He couldn’t bring himself to see Lucie or James. He couldn’t face them knowing he was crumbling.

Nothing was normal, he thought bitterly. Not even for Shadowhunters.

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James and Matthew’s Parabatai bond is, indeed, very different to any of the other bonds we’ve encountered in TSC. It seems a real shame considering they’ve known each other longer. Despite the conversations and fighting sequences they had in CHOG, I got the impression they felt awfully distant from each other. 

However, I remember CC answering a question similar to this. The reason why James isn’t very observant/tentative towards Matthew’s alcoholism/depression, is because he has a demon-forged bracelet on his wrist that’s suppressed a lot of his emotions, resulting in little attention to subtle and important details. So of course, his awareness of what’s going on around him and what’s happening to the people around him, wouldn’t be top-notch. And yes, I believe this dangerous accessory has, to some extent, weakened their Parabatai bond as well. 

Hell, even Lucie, Anna and Alastair have been able to notice Matthew’s problems, and they aren’t arguably as close to him as James is.

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I have this headcanon where Matthew after hard day (days where he hears all the rumors or when Charles is being an ass) and goes to the institute just to see James. Whether for a hug or a distraction or just to lay with his head in James’ lap while James reads to him. Cause its canon that he’s affectionate and touchy and stuff and I just rlly love that.

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It was love, he thought, a love that never clutches its object; like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases. This kind of love was meant to be spread over the world and allow Matthew to become part of humanity again.

The world by all means should have shared this unique love with them. How could Matthew tell Lucie why she pleased him so? Why the sight of her reading a fairy tale to her ghost-boy had upon him precisely the same effect as the solution of a scientific problem.

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