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theheartsmistakes · 4 years

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The Last Night Part XII

(Author’s Notes: Sup guys! I hope you had a fantastic Fourth of July (for the American readers) and celebrated safely. If you are not American, I hope you had a fantastic weekend! Thank you for your patience while I worked through some writer’s block. I think I’m getting back into a swing though. I started reading a book that is set in the Edwardian period and it has helped me find the dialect and voice that I started with. I’ve been reading a lot of contemporary literature as of late and I think it’s influenced my writing a little, which is fine, but I’m fighting to remain consistent. I’m working on a novel of my own and it’s also based in the Edwardian period, but in a fantasy world, and I’ve been struggling to stay in the same dialect with that too. Anyhoo... I’m rambling... here is part 12. I hope that you enjoy it. Please hit the like, reblog, leave me a comment to cry happily over, and follow along for updates. Be safe! Be kind! Stay healthy.)

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Part XII

The following morning, James was settled in a wing chair in the game room, nominally enthralled by a short collection of poetry by Keats. It’d been a comfort to read Keats’ poetry when he would be feeling out of sorts. Perhaps because his father insisted on reading it to him as a child before bed. It seemed even in his adolescent and young adulthood, after weeks of sleepless nights cramming for examinations, going through drills during the day, and shivering through countless patrols in the chilly streets of London, he always enjoyed dozing in the warmth of a well-made fire, with Keats’ heart bleeding through the pages of his collection.

This naturally led to his considering what Keats would do in a situation like his. As his mind wandered into his thoughts, he was aware of the scent of late-blooming climbing rose coming in the window on a puff of air and he noted that the scent might have prompted the thought and he wondered whether Matthew would still be Matthew if he smelled of diesel and boot polish instead of bay rum, and what Cordelia, who smelled of roses and lime blossom to him, would be doing at this time of the day if she weren’t lying in her sick bed.

A swift clatter of boots on the stairs heralded Matthew’s arrival, and he closed the book, without the relief he’d been searching for, for even Keats couldn’t keep his mind from wandering.

“The Silent Brothers have gone,” said Matthew, his tone composed with his usual preferred demeanor of bored indifference.

“Gone where?” asked James.

“Back to the Citadel, I’m assuming,” said Matthew. He tugged at his starched shirt collar, and James could see he was warm with sweat about the neck, as if he had run all the way here. “Brother Zachariah remains and another, but I cannot recall his name, they all look the same to me.”

“Any word on Cordelia or Alastair?”

“Unfortunately not and the adults want a word with us in the dining room post haste. I assume they want a detailed description of our knowledge concerning the events of the night.” Matthew slumped in the other wing chair and covered his face with his arm. “

“Well, that’s certainly a blow to my afternoon plans,” said James, keeping his tone light in the hope that he could convince his parents and friends that he was calm enough to stand outside the bedroom that Cordelia had been moved into. They moved her in the night while he slept and no one would tell him the location due to his sudden outbursts. “If the other Brothers have left, that’s surely a good sign that Cordelia and Alastair are healing and are no longer in need of their attention.”

“It’s possible,” said Matthew from under his sleeve. “My parents are here, as are Kit’s and Thomas’s.” He groaned and added, “Charles insisted on coming as well. My life is over.”

James cursed. “What does he want?”

“‘To get to the bottom of this most unfortunate disaster’,” said Matthew, “his words, not mine. He’ll insist on lecturing us about how insubordinate we’ve all been, and how, seeing as we are underage, we have no business going out after the Carstairs siblings without briefing the adults with the situation first. He’ll make me file his paperwork for a month.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic,” said James.

Even as James spoke he felt the hypocrisy of offering comfort instead of truth. But what truth could he speak to his parabatai? Remembering the whispered conversations between his own parents after James had returned from near death by demon poisoning, James knew with a sinking feeling that his own investigation towards his grandfather would need to be done in absolute secrecy.

“Charles has been wanting to get me behind a desk since we were children,” said Matthew. “My mother will surely not object now that Shadowhunters are being plucked from their carriages in the streets.”

“Well, lucky for Charles, you’ve the best penmanship of all of us,” said James.

“So glad to hear that your humor has returned,”groaned Matthew, hanging his head so that his face was hidden beneath the fall of his hair. “Even if it is at my expense.”

“Pull yourself together, Math,” said James. He stood and tugged the edges of his jacket down as if to reinforce his words. “It will not serve to allow the entire household to hear such agitation. We have faced our parent’s fury before, this will be no different, I’m sure.” There was a pause, and James gazed out the window to allow Matthew a moment to compose himself. While he envied Matthew’s free and easy, passionate nature, his capacity for intense friendships, he always felt squeamish in the face of Matthew’s occasional display of emotion. He was accustomed to his own emotional outburst and Matthew insisting on James to calm down.

“You are right, of course,” said Matthew at last. He pulled a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Good to see you back to your more rational nature.”

“Thank you,” said James, fully aware that Matthew did not altogether mean it as a compliment. It was hardly fair that Matthew should provoke him into a purse-lipped rigidity and then insult him for it, but James’s first concern was to protect his friend from his own self-indulgence. “Now why don’t we make a suitable plan?” he added. “I’ve learned long ago that it’s best to just nod in the presence of angered adults.”

Matthew nodded as if to show his ability to follow direction. “Perhaps we should share what we know about Belial.”

“I think not,” said James. “My parent’s have already made it quite clear that they don’t want us involved in the investigation any further. We will have to continue it without their knowing.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” said Matthew. “He nearly possessed you and tried to kill Cordelia twice.”

“Which is why we must continue the investigation on how to properly kill him because it can be sure that he will not stop until he has what he wants,” said James. “There has to be a way to kill him properly.”

“I hope it’s something obvious,” said Matthew, “like spritzing him with water or feeding him chocolate.”

A sound of voices in the hallway outside the game room was followed by a light knocking on the door and Thomas’s voice saying, “Of course I’ve forgotten the secret knock, it was far too complex to begin with.”

“They’re here to fetch us,” said Matthew urgently. James noticed that he did have a strange, pale look about his face, but perhaps, he thought, this was the properly deserved effect of too much rough cider.

“By the angel, it’s only Christopher and Thomas,” he said. “You and Thomas can look pale and interesting together. Of course, he’s only just lost his sister. Perhaps his situation will help your sense of perspective.”

“Your sarcasm lacks the delicacy that would render it amusing,” said Matthew. “But thank you for your reason. Your permanent frown always brings me to my senses.”

“I do not have a permanent frown,” said James. He took a brief look into the mirror over the mantle and consciously adjusted his features to a half smile, which only seemed to make him look as if he were in pain.

“Hello gentleman,” said Matthew, “do come in. It’s mercifully clear of authority in here.”

Christopher and Thomas came through the door, and James found himself slightly relieved that they were alone. Both of them were neatly dressed in tweed trousers, buttoned up shirts with suspenders. Christophers glasses rested on the end of his nose while Thomas' shirt strained heavily around the illustrious girth of his arms. Neither of them seemed to wear any hint of the previous night’s grievances.

“Welcome,” he said. “Is it time then?”

“Just about,” said Thomas and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve only just arrived with mum and dad and only convinced Christopher’s parents to allow him to leave their side by promising that we were only going as far as to fetch the two of you.”

“It’s already begun,” Matthew blurted out. “Behold men, your last minutes of freedom.”

“What’s he on about?” asked Thomas.

“Pay him no mind,” said James. “He’s consumed with the notion that due to the events of the last few nights our parents are going to handcuff us to desks until we come of age.”

“My mother suggested it,” said Christopher, “but I think my father has made progress against the idea.”

“See,” said James, gesturing to Christopher. “If my aunt Cecily can be brought to sense then so will your parents. Let’s just do what they ask of us and resume our investigation without their knowledge.”

“So not much different from what we’ve been doing for the past seventeen years?” said Matthew, shooting James a look. James could only roll his eyes as Christopher and Thomas drifted to the two wing chairs, where they sat and continued, for some minutes, to turn over the circumstances of the secret Belial investigation in a low and urgent manner.

“Any word on Cordelia and Alastair?” asked James.

Thomas nose flared as he met James’s gaze with an expression of frankness. “No,” he said. “Not that I’ve heard.”

James leaned against the wall and felt an echo of the agony that he had felt the night before and had to quell an urge to run out of the room and demand that someone give him information on the state of his fiance, seeing as far as everyone knew they were still engaged.

“I overheard our mother’s talking,” said Christopher to Matthew. “Alastair woke for a moment last night and was able to communicate with the Silent Brothers, but he is instructed to rest without visitors so that the injuries to his brain can continue to heal.” Matthew grumbled something under his breath. “Cordelia has been placed into an induced coma that she is unable to wake up from on her own. When her injuries have had some time to heal they’ll attempt to wake her up. The good news however is that the cure for her demon poisoning has allowed the runes to take a more immediate effect so she is healing.”

Christopher offered James a reassuring smile, which he appreciated more than he could properly express.

“Forget being tied to a desk,” muttered Matthew. “My mother will probably request having me put into an induced coma instead.”

Tessa Gray sat in the plush velvet couch in the front drawing room with her legs crossed at the ankles and her husband’s hand gently pressed against her shoulder while he sipped brandy from a glass tumbler in his free hand. Aunt Cecily was seated in a wing chair beside the fire with her husband Gabriel a respectful six feet away from Will. Aunt Sophie sat at the other end of the couch with Tessa, her hand held softly in the clutches of Gideon, both of them still carrying the misery of the loss of their eldest daughter Barbara. Charlotte Fairchild stood behind her husband’s wheelchair and beside her eldest son Charles. James knocked on the door and went in followed by Matthew, Christopher, and Thomas.

“Gentlemen,” said Will. “I hope that you all slept well and are prepared for punishment and ridicule.”

“William,” warned Tessa. “We simply want you to recount your details from the night the Carstair’s were attacked.

Matthew shifted beside James.

It had only just occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Lucie since they arrived at the Institute with Cordelia and she wasn’t in the room now. “Where is Lucie? She would have more to tell than any of us would.”

“Lucie has already recounted her experience,” said Tessa, one eyebrow raised. “She’s resting now. It’s the four of you that we wish to speak to now.”

“We are enacting an investigation on this prince of hell Belial,” said Charles, as he moved forward into the center of the room. “If we’re to be successful in locating him and effectively killing him then we need all of the information that you have concerning him.”

“I’ve already told my parents everything that I know about Belial,” said James. Both Will and Tessa turned him a look. James exhaled and began his recount of his experiences with Belial.

“And you believe Belial to be the one to have taken Miss Carstairs?” asked Charles when James was finished.

“I never saw him myself,” said James. “That would be a question for Lucie.”

“She claimed not to have seen him either,” said Charles, removing a pocket watch and checking the time before slipping it back into his trousers. “She said that she found Cordelia in the fog badly injured. She said that she lost you, but once the fog rolled away, you appeared again. Is this not the truth?”

James wasn’t sure what would compel his sister to lie about the events of Cordelia’s rescue, but he had to assume that there was a good reason and one that he would explore later when he could speak to his sister himself.

“It’s the truth,” said James. “As I told you before Lucie disappeared into the fog and I ran after her. We lost each other for some time, and when the fog moved off, she was there again with Cordelia.”

Charles stroked his chin. “It’s been unanimously agreed upon that the four of you, including Lucie and Anna, will be restricted to local patrols during daylight hours and are to report in detail any and all demon activity. If you so choose to break your restrictions then your punishment will be as sever as I see warranted.”

“What exactly would you see warranted?” asked James.

“You’ll be sent to Alicante,” said Charles, his eyes marked on Matthew, “where you’ll remain until you come of age and if you continue to disobey direct orders then the punishment will be as severe as stripping you of your marks.”

“Charles,” Charlotte hissed from beside her husband. “We never mentioned—“

“It is for their own safety, mother,” said Charles, squaring his shoulders. “I do hope it doesn’t come to such extremes, but in this case, the safety of one is the safety of them all. I do hope this will encourage them to keep each other accountable.”

Though it pained James that these new founded restrictions would limit his personal research on finding a way to kill Belial, it did not discourage him in the least. In fact, he was even more excited about the prospect of an opportunity to infuriate Charles. If one of them were to be sent to Alicante, he was sure the rest would follow, and he couldn’t strip them all of their marks. What with Shadowhunters being down in numbers as it were. Charles tactics were classic: infiltrate fear into the army without ever enacting punishment. Not that Charles would ever find out if they were going against him. Charles was too busy building his castle out of sand to see what goes on around him.

“I think Charles has allowed power to go to his head,” said Will, under his breath. He’d been in something of high spirits since Jem had arrived at the Institute and been ordered to stay to help the Carstairs siblings mend. “Don’t fret, Jamie boy, if you are stripped of your marks, Coleridge lived a life of poverty and had to be sustained by charitable friends and he turned out fine.”

“William,” Tessa hissed. “Do be serious for a moment. Jamie, as much as we regret taking away your personal freedoms, it is of the utmost importance that you heed the restrictions put in place for you. Even if he is being a power hungry, conniving, son of a--”

“What your mother is trying to convey,” said Will, moving in front of her, “is that you should be careful and mindful of your action.”

“I could always become a postman like Trollope?” said James. “I’ll begin to work on my beard.”

Will bellowed and clapped James on the shoulder just as the doors to the drawing room were opened by the footman and in walked Brother Zachariah with Sona beside him. Her graying hair has come loose and spilled down her back in an array of perfect waves that mirrored the texture of her daughters. Her expression was somber; deep circles sat under her eyes and her lips were impossibly dry.

Her arm was entwined with Jem’s as they shuffled into the room.

James, followed by Tessa and Will, hurried across the room to meet them.

“Mrs. Carstairs is in need of some rest,” said Brother Zachariah. “She would like to request that James remain with Miss Cordelia while she is away.”

James took her free hand and offered it a reassuring squeeze.

“She is lost in there,” said Sona, her voice rough and weathered. “I can feel it. It helps if you read to her. Let her hear the sound of your voice so she has something to walk towards in all of that darkness.”

“I can show you to a room,” said Tessa, a note of emotion in her voice that she quickly cleared away.

“That would be lovely thank you,” said Sona and removed her arm from Jem’s for Tessa’s.

“Perhaps some light broth,” said Brother Zachariah. “She hasn’t eaten much and I worry for the child.”

Tessa nodded and led Sona from the room.

Brother Zachariah turned his attention to James. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better after some sleep,” said James. “I can go to Cordelia now if you wish.”

“She is having a bath,” said Jem, “but in the next hour. Prepare to make yourself comfortable, perhaps bring some literature. As Sona said before, it is of the utmost importance that you continue to speak to her, give her something to walk towards, or the Cordelia that you know can become lost in her thoughts forever.”

James' voice became bitter. “Why is she in a coma if it means she could become lost inside of her mind? Can’t you wake her up?”

“The injuries that she has sustained would be too terrible to be conscious during,” said Jem. “The body is able to heal much quicker if the mind is asleep to the pain.”

James drew himself into as stiff of a column as he could and clamped his teeth down on a small quiver of his jaw. He resolved himself in that moment to give Cordelia whatever she needed; if he had to read to her for days, weeks, even months then that was what he would do.

(Next update is going to be Sunday 7/12... maybe)

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astriefer · 3 years

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Cordelia: So, who do you love the most?

Baby Carstairs: Matthew!

Alastair: Betrayal. By my own baby brother.

Cordelia: Alastair, it's just-

Alastair: U-N-B-E-L-I-E-V-A-B-L-E

#alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #baby carstairs #the last hours #tlh #chain of gold #tsc #chain of iron #the shadowhunter chronicles #matthew fairchild #chog #i live on baby Carstiars adoring Matthew and Alastair being very annoyed by that #because he'll scoff or be dramatic at the revelation #i wish to believe that

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amchara · 3 years

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In Cold Blood - (Whumptober prompts 4, 7, 22)

Kit Herondale, Belial, Sammael, Tessa Gray, Jem Carstairs, Mina Carstairs

The Princes of Hell are looking for the perfect pawn and Johnny Rook's protection spells performed on Kit as a baby aren't enough to save him... (Or- my take on this thread about possessed!Kit in TWP)

Prompts: Taken hostage (Prompt Four), helplessness (Prompt Seven) and Demon (Prompt 22) for Whumptober

TW: offscreen violence, demon possession?

The two demons watched as the teenage boy shifted uneasily and cried out in his sleep. “No Ty… not if you do this, not if…” he fell silent. Then his body locked and stiffened. He called out in horror and despair-- “LIVVY!”

Sammael looked appreciatively at the boy’s long limbs, which, despite their coltish appearance, had nascent muscles- the promise of a powerful warrior if trained properly. And his face was fair, framed by golden curls and a strong jaw, and despite his nightmares, sweet and open. All the better for seduction and persuading the unwary to trust him, Sammael thought.

“Well done, brother- I think he will do well for our plans,” he said, adjusting the portal window so that he and Belial could spy further into the room.

Belial smiled. “He’s not of my line but his protection spells are weak- they were not completed properly. And there’s a hint-” he sniffed. “A hint of dark magic around him- that should speed the possession.”

He started forward, clawed hand descending towards the opened portal to draw the shadowhunter boy into his realm. But his brother’s arm thumped across his chest, stopping him.

“You have him for three days,” Sammael reminded him. “And then you must allow our brothers to take their turns.”

“You should find your own,” Belial said, a sulky note entering his voice. “I want this one.”

“Most shadowhunters have intact protection spells so you know that would be challenging. Also, this one…” Sammael said, watching the boy carefully. “His faerie blood will do nicely for the final stage of our plan. You must share.”

Belial tossed his head, moonlight glinting off his immaculate dark hair. “Understood,” he said shortly. His grey eyes glowed. “No matter- I should be able to accomplish my goals by that time. Starting with my plans for the inhabitants of this house.”

Kit opened his eyes, blinking as he took in his surroundings. His limbs felt oddly heavy and his mind felt unfocused, and he tried to shake his head to clear it. Strange. He couldn’t quite manage it.

He was in Mina’s room, dressed in normal street clothes and standing by the door, hand resting lightly on her dollhouse.

Mina was awake and sitting upright in her bed. But something was wrong, Kit realised. She was watching him with a wary look, her dark eyes solemn and unsure as she huddled in her covers.

“Where’s Kit?” she asked, her voice small and tentative.

What was Mina talking about?

To his horror, Kit could feel his face move into a rictus of a smile and he walked forward even as she shrank back from him on the bed.

Was he sleepwalking? Was this a waking nightmare?

No. The voice was low and seductive, caressing across his mind. You’re under my control now, Kit Herondale.

Mina screamed as he grabbed her.

But suddenly he was the one screaming, as his hands burned uncontrollably and he dropped her, her light yellow magic trailing away like smoke wisps. She scrambled away and the fear on her face sent a stab of pain through his heart. The… presence, whatever, whoever it was seemed to find delight in this, almost broadcasting its feelings directly into Kit’s mind.

There was a thundering noise in the hallway and Jem and Tessa burst into the room. Jem was an incongruous but deadly sight holding a long broadsword and clothed in only an undershirt and tight white underwear, while Tessa, despite the late hour and wild hair, projected an air of sharp competence as she held her hands up, blue flames dancing between her fingers.

They took in the sight of their two children.

Tessa was the one who understood it first, a look of shock and dismay crossing her face. “Kit?” she asked, slowly.

“Hello, daughter,” it said, the words leaving his mouth in an unnatural way, and Kit could feel a cold amusement from the being currently controlling him.

“Belial,” Tessa whispered, and Jem let out a muffled gasp but his grip on the sword didn’t waver.

Panic rose through Kit as he considered Tessa’s response. He tried to push, strain his muscles, blink his eyes. Anything to regain control over his body that was being controlled by a freaking Prince of Hell.

Nothing worked.

“I know we said we were even, the last time we spoke-” and Kit could feel his focus switch to include Jem as well. “But I’m afraid I… lied.” He gestured down his body. “And it was rather careless of you to have left such shoddy protection spells on another of your children.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Let him go.” She raised her hands again.

“Or what?” His arms crossed, and he leaned casually against the bedside table. “You’re hardly about to attack me away, not while I’m wearing this.”

And Kit thought he would do a million chores, and a thousand tough training sessions, if it meant he was never again referenced as a demon fashion accessory.

Tessa’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly towards Jem. It was the smallest of gestures and if he wasn’t so aware of their tiny tells, having lived for three years with them, he wouldn’t have realised that they had just shared a plan. Unfortunately, Kit realised with growing horror, as his hand suddenly raised in a familiar gesture, Belial seemed to have direct access to his very thoughts.

I do indeed. Thank you

Jem lunged towards the bed, arms outstretched to scoop up Mina. But he was intercepted by Belial taking control of Kit’s powers - the same powers he and Tessa and Jem had spent hours carefully training, safely- and knocking him with a giant invisible force, slamming Jem into the opposite wall of the nursery, where he lay crumpled but still conscious, eyes wide with pain.

Tessa snarled and with a couple elegant gestures, a crying Mina flew into the air, landing safely into her arms. Mina burrowed her head into her mother’s shoulder.

“I do need both your children, Tessa, my darling.” Kit sauntered over to her but stopped short as a solid, invisible wall stood in between them.

“Over my dead body,” she told him, her eyes furious as she stroked Mina’s back protectively.

“How very dramatic,” Kit heard himself drawl, looking down at his fingernails in a bored manner.

There was a growing sense of a burning, hungry power building in him and Kit summoned all his willpower to fight Belial if he tried to hurt Tessa or Mina or Jem again.

I won’t let you hurt my family.

He could feel the demon scoff at him, as he stepped away. With a few sharp gestures, he outlined a door frame, and reality bent and shivered for a moment before a doorway opened. On the other side, Kit could see city lights and hear cars honking, as a balmy breeze drifted through.

“I’ll go have fun with this one first, and we can return to discuss your daughter later,” Belial told her as he stepped through, easily sidestepping Jem’s pained attempt to try and tackle him.

“Kit!” Tessa’s cry was suddenly cut off as the doorway winked close.

Kit raged and swore and drew on every scrap of knowledge he knew- Shadowhunter and Downworlder alike- but it did no good. He was powerless and worst of all, as he walked down the busy urban road, he felt insignificant, a feeling that was highlighted by Belial’s next words to him.

Oh, you’re still here. I don’t think I need you around for this part. In fact, I think for this first time- it’ll be more fun if you’re not.

The next time Kit returned to consciousness, he was lying in an alley somewhere, his head throbbing and it felt like a bucket of paint had been thrown over his face and body, his clothes tacky with it. But instinctively Kit knew it wasn’t paint. He looked down.

There was blood on his hands.

So. Much. Blood.

(Yes there will probably be more to this story - this was too much fun to write. Which Prince of Hell takes control next?? Also, am thinking a Kit / Ty reunion while Kit is still possessed... )

Taglist: @sandersgrey @dontmindmyshadowhunting @shadowhunting-hooligans @of-same-steel-and-temper @hardlymatters @storm-of-ruination @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @roundtom

Previous Whumptober fics:

Prompt One - "You Have To Let Go" (James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, Matthew Fairchild)

Prompt Two - Choking/Gagged (Dru Blackthorn, Ash Morgenstern, Ty Blackthorn, Kit Blackthorn, L.A. Institute inhabitants)

Prompt Three - "Who Did This To You?" (Cristina Rosales, Mark Blackthorn, Kieran Kingson)

(link to prompts)

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oscar-wilde-the-dog · 3 years

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A Daisy in a Field of Roses (Part 1)

Matthew Fairchild x Lightwood!Reader

Summary: Reader goes for a walk in Regent's Park for some alone time, only for Oscar and Matthew to show up

Word Count: 1.2k words

Growing up with an older sister like Anna Lightwood, you had never felt too pressured to fit societal norms. Your parents never forced you to either. Some days you wore pants and an elegant waistcoat, others you wore lovely dresses and a corset. Frequently, you would stay in your Shadowhunter gear after morning training, it being the most comfortable option.

Beyond your fashion choices, you had more freedom than most girls your age regarding your whereabouts as well. No one batted an eye if they spotted you at the Hell Ruelle, a faerie female around your neck, or when you snuck off at an Enclave ball with the Merry Thieves.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Matthew Fairchild found you wandering around the Regent’s Park alone one evening.

You had glamoured yourself, preventing any mundane eyes from noticing your presence. It had always felt strange to you that there is an entire race of people who do not know you exist. Sometimes you preferred to remain unglamoured, allowing the gazes of strangers to pass over you. You enjoyed it occasionally, the feeling of being seen, like you fit in with the world around you.

Tonight you wished to be hidden from everyone’s sight. You had informed your parents before leaving the Lightwood residence that you were staying at your sister’s flat near Soho and wouldn’t be home for dinner. You often told your parents you were staying at Anna’s when you were in need of a long walk and some alone time. Even though they trusted you, you knew they worried. You had picked up this habit a while ago after coming home late one night from the Hell Ruelle and noticed the witchlight in your parents bedroom still on. Ever since, you do everything you can to make them worry less, even if that means lying to their faces.

You were wearing a petal pink tea gown as you walked around the park, occasionally stopping to pluck a daisy for your little bouquet you were gathering. You were squatted down grabbing another flower when a dog leapt onto you from the front causing you to fall backwards onto the soft grass, dropping your growing bouquet. Before you could even blink the dog was leaving slobbery kisses all over your face making you giggle and scrunch your nose.

“Oscar! Off! Leave the poor girl alone!” A familiar voice calls from behind you triggering a wider grin to spread across your face. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position letting Oscar fall into your lap.

“Yeah Oscar, don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re picking daisies?” You joke scratching behind the golden retriever’s ears, his tail thumping the grass next to you.

“Y/n?” The voice questions, confusion lacing his words as he nears you. It's not everyday your dog randomly attacks a girl with affection at the park and it turns out to be your close friend.

“Math?” You respond turning your head to look at your friend. Matthew’s face lit up into a grin when he recognized your face, his eyes moving from you to the dog in your lap. He chuckled as he reached the both of you, sitting beside you on the lush grasses of Regent’s Park. He stretched out his long legs beside you, leaning back on one hand as he reached forward with the other to pet Oscar.

Nudging you with his foot he asks, “what are you doing meandering through Regent’s Park after sundown? I thought you were more of a Kensington Gardens girl.” You roll your eyes looking down at the happy dog in your lap.

“I wanted to be alone for a while,” you respond hesitantly, weary of saying the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry Oscar ruined that for you,” Matthew teases, “we can leave if you want. I was just taking him for his evening walk, I didn’t expect to run into anyone.”

“Neither did I,” you laugh pushing your sleeve up to show him your glamour rune on your forearm. He chuckles in response. “Please don’t leave, this has been a pleasant surprise,” you shrug. “Plus I would never turn away Oscar,” you remark before he can respond, scratching behind the dog's ears and kissing him on the snout.

“I knew you loved him more than me! Oscar you must tell me your secret, how do you get y/n’s undivided attention?” Matthew jokes leaning forward and wildly rubbing the golden retriever’s fur. Oscar rolls over onto his back in response, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as his owner indulges him in belly rubs. The overstimulation is evident, but there is pure elation in Oscar's eyes as his person shows him some love.

The sight makes your heart burn with affection, not only for Oscar. Glancing up from the dog laying half on your lap and half sprawled on the grass, you let your smile fall a bit as you study the features of your friend in front of you. His green eyes shine as he looks at his four legged friend, his lush lips pulled into a wide smile. Your eyes travel a bit further until they reach his hair— oh, how badly you want to run your fingers through it. The golden strands blow softly onto his forehead due to the light breeze of the evening and it takes all your strength to not reach over and push it back into place.

"Is there something on my face?" Matthew questions pulling you out of your thoughts. He had caught you staring you realize, color beginning to rise to your cheeks.

"No, it's just your hair," you respond quickly.

"The wind has ruined it hasn't it?" He asks, raking his hands through his hair. "I apologize you have had to witness me in such a state."

"Math, I have watched you throw up in Thomas's hat, forget you threw up, and put the hat on your head. I think I have seen you look worse,” you chuckle.

“Do not remind me. I have never gotten over the waistcoat that was ruined during those drunken events,” Matthew says, dramatically clutching a hand to his heart.

“Don’t forget my dress you wrecked that night as well!” You exclaim, smiling brightly.

“It is entirely not my fault that you were in the splash zone,” he points his finger at you a gleam in his eye.

“Forgive me for wishing to comfort my friend, I’ll remember this the next time you’re wasted,” you tease.

Rolling his eyes, Matthew lays back resting his head on his arms. Watching his owner closely, Oscar moves next to his side, laying on his back. Matthew grins reaching one hand down to rub the dog’s belly.

Watching the interaction makes your heart flutter. The realization of your feelings causes your head to spin and fingers to go numb. A shiver runs through your body catching Matthew’s attention.

“Hey what’s wrong y/n/n?” He asks sitting up in concern. “Are you cold? I can make Oscar go lay on you for warmth.”

Abruptly, you push yourself up to stand. “I just realized I am late for tea at Anna’s, I must get going,” you reply quickly. Turning on your heel, you start the trek to exit the park in the direction of your older sister’s flat.

“Y/n, wait!” You hear Matthew shout, but you’re already through the gates.

Matthew Taglist: @agentsofsheilds

#matthew fairchild x reader #Matthew Fairchild imagine #Matthew Fairchild #tlh #chain of gold #chain of iron #the last hours #shadowhunters

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mortalfaerie · 3 years

Text

To Fake an Engagement (M.F.)

part 2/?

matthew fairchild x (fem) reader

word count: 1904

synopsis: part 2 of this series. after james and cordelia marry, matthew is being a bitter idiot, and reader goes to talk some sense into him. later, they go to anna’s party and things get a little flirty. no coi spoilers.

You hadn’t expected the next year to amount to much. Certainly, Matthew would forget the deal, ask for his ring back, and probably wait for Cordelia to divorce James to try to romance her.

But, Matthew Fairchild surprised you. He had engaged you for walks, written you letters, and seemed to often hover to your side whenever you were in a room together. For the two months to follow, he even seemed to drink less.

However, after the wedding, he seemed to slump back, drink more, and refuse company. Finally, sick of his dramatics, you went directly to his house and demanded he see you. When he came down to the parlor after being called by Charles, he was disheveled and obviously hungover. He had flushed despite himself when he saw you.

You had glared over the rim of your teacup as he idly stared into his. Finally, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” You were frustrated, but managed to ask, “Sorry on what account?”

He shot you a glare briefly and replied, “You know what. Shall I spell it out? I disappointed you. I am a disappointment, Y/N."

You softened, and schooled your tone. “You are right that I am disappointed, Matthew, but that does not make you a disappointment. I am disappointed that you have neglected my letters, that you seem to have scorned my company. I am disappointed that you will not accept my attempts to comfort you when I have so freely given them.”

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “I admit to that.” he replied.

“And I am hurt, because I have become so fond of your company in recent months and you have-” you shook your head in exasperation, “ripped it from me without ceremony.”

Your voice had broken on the last word, so you took a long sip of your tea and collected yourself. When you again looked up, he was looking at you with a soft, sorrowful look. “I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

“I would prefer your commitment to change to your sorrow.” You said in clipped words. Mathew raked a hand through his golden hair, the light catching on the piece of silver on his third finger. Your family ring, still in place.

“I can make no promises.” He said finally, meeting your eyes again. He did truly look remorseful.

“Then promise me you will try, Matthew.” you said, gesturing to his disheveled state. “I am not asking that you quit your vices entirely, I can hardly say I am without vice myself, but I am asking that you try to control them.”

He was looking into his cup of tea when he replied, “I can try.”

“Thank you.” you breathed, and set your cup down. Matthew was seated across a small, circular table in the parlor, and you reached over to cover his hand with yours. He looked up with surprise, and you offered a small smile.

“I did not come entirely to schold you.” you said. Matthew smiled wryly, and it was good to see his face not in a mask of brooding and contemplation. “You came for Oscar, then?” he asked, and before you could respond, he lifted his free hand to his lips and whistled a high tone. You could hear a thump noise upstairs, followed by the patter and clacking of clawed feet on the floor, and saw a flurry of yellow fur bounding down the stairs and into the parlor.

You laughed, your hand still over Matthew’s and offered your other to Oscar, who happily sniffed and licked it. “Hello, old chap.” you cooed to the golden retriever, who thumped his tail of the carpet in approval. Eventually, he went to go curl himself around Matthew’s chair, comforting his person.

You smiled, but answered, “No, I do love to see Oscar, but not him.” you drummed your fingers on the table and continued, “I want you to come to Anna’s party with me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want to schold me for my drunkenness and then have me escort you to a party?”

You playfully glared at him, but squeezed his hand to ensure he knew you were only kidding. “Yes, I want you to take me. I want to have fun with you and my friends. No flask, though.” you added. “I would not stop you from drinking Anna’s liquor, but you needn’t bring reinforcements.”

Matthew mock pouted but conceded. “Oh, very well. You shall have naught but gentlemanly propriety from me.”

He laced his finger through yours over the table, and tapped your ring finger with his free hand. “I see you still have my ring.” he commented.

You nodded. “I have upheld my end of our deal. I keep it in my pocket at home, as to not have my parents suspect you are courting me in earnest, but I wear it in private.”

He pressed a kiss to the ring, and said, “You wound me, Y/N. I am courting you in earnest. Was an engagement not the prize of our bargain?”

You blushed. “Well, if they are to think that, it will be when there is an engagement.”

Catching you in your words, he grinned. “When indeed.”

The night of Anna’s party, Matthew, regally and ostentatiously dressed as always, arrived on time in his carriage to escort you. Your parents had known Matthew to be a good friend of yours for 2 years now, and thought little of your sharing a carriage alone. Once inside the carriage, he pointedly showed you his pockets were empty of his flask, and you were pleased he had remembered.

You made an interesting pair upon arrival- you, dressed in an elegant but sensible blue party dress, layers of chiffon secured with a cinching midnight belt, and ivory lace sleeves and collar peeking out beyond the hems. Matthew, on the other hand, wore a brilliant purple waistcoat and evergreen colored blazer, which he quickly discarded in the heat of the party.

You both drank, though it was clear Matthew exercised effort to be moderate in his drinking, but it was enough for you both to lose inhibitions as he turned you about the makeshift dance floor in Anna’s parlor, you giggling when he dramatically turned you and to your surprise, lifted you off your feet. The two of you staggered away from the dancing couples, laughing, both red faced, as he pulled you against his chest and your laughter was muffled in his shirt.

He hummed to the piano music, where a vampire had seated herself and begun to play jaunty country dance music from the previous century, but to your surprise, he made no move to release you from his embrace. Neither of you did, really. When you had contained your laughter, you had contentedly rested your cheek against his chest and listened to him hum. He was warm, and the smell of him- clean linen, sandalwood, and the hint of wine that you both had earlier, was at once rich and comforting. You stood like that, lost in the rightness of the feeling of his arms around you, for probably 5 minutes before a voice caused you to jump apart.

“Matthew! Y/N! I take it you two are enjoying yourselves?” Anna asked, sauntering up to your corner of the room.

You blushed, and busied yourself with adjusting your skirts as Matthew, quick and cunning as ever, invented a story of how yes, you were enjoying yourselves, but you had a sudden dizzy spell and had to leave the dancefloor. He had been steadying you, he claimed, and you nodded along. Anna, an older sibling herself, was a master of seeing through invented stories and gave you a look that said she didn’t believe it for a moment, but it was all good fun. Her attention was grabbed by another partygoer, and she moved on quickly.

You shot Matthew an incredulous look when she passed, and he gave you a bemused smirk. “Horrible thing, corsets? Making girls everywhere faint and swoon.”

You scoffed and playfully nudged him, but he laughed in response. “I recall you were the one insisting we leave the dance floor.” You pointed out.

“Yes, because you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe!” he exclaimed.

“Because you-” you set in, but quickly realized you couldn’t remember what had started you two in laughing, and the both of you began laughing again.

Falling into a comfortable silence, the two of you leaned against the wall behind you, watching other couples dance, drink, and be merry. At some point, you leaned your head against his shoulder, but he didn’t move away. Instead, you felt him shift his weight and rest his head on yours. After a few moments, you yawned, and felt him chuckle beside you.

“Oh Cinderella, has midnight come so soon?” he teased, and you wrinkled your nose in mock disdain.

“I think it is well after midnight now, and you are hardly Prince Charming.” you retorted.

“Is that so? If I am not, why have you danced only with me all night? If this were a ball, people would say we are in love.”

You were glad then that he couldn’t see your face, because you felt the hot rush of blood invoked by his words. You cleared your throat. “Well, this isn’t a ball.” you pointed out.

“And thank the Angel for that.” he remarked, and drew an arm around your shoulder. “Otherwise, I’m sure you standing alone with me in a corner- and, touching, my Lord,” he feigned shock, and continued, “would be the scandal of the season.”

You laughed. “I think James and Cordelia took that honor already with her confession and their swift marriage.”

You felt him stiffen at the mention, and he replied, “Ah, yes. That would be difficult to beat.” and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. Wanting to take his mind off of it, you turned out of his grasp and extended a hand.

“Dance one more set with me, and then you may take me home.” You said.

“Methinks the lady doth command boldly.” he said, an eyebrow playfully cocked.

“I believe it is the waltz.” You smiled and added, “And now you can hold me as close as you like and no one will breathe a word of scandal.”

There was a strange, momentary burst of color in his cheeks, but he nodded and took your hand, letting you lead him again onto the dance floor.

On the carriage ride back to your house, you were seated on the same bench beside each other, despite having room to sit opposite. You were drowsily leaning into his shoulder, and he was tracing patterns on your hand with his, when he again tapped the ring on your hand.

“I think you should hide this away before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin, Cinderella. Otherwise your parents will think I am courting you in earnest.” He mused playfully, echoing your earlier words. You yawned and deposited it in your pocket, immediately missing the feeling of it.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.” You murmured sleepily. He hummed pleasantly, and then said, “You know, if you did become Y/N Fairchild, we could cause all the scandal in London and no one would be able to scoff.”

You laughed, and replied, “I will consider that when you make your proposal.”

“When indeed.” He remarked again.

#matthew fairchild #matthew fairchild x reader #the last hours #the mortal instruments #the infernal devices #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #chain of gold #chain of iron

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willwriteforhugs · 2 years

Note

Hi! I'm glad that you liked the ship idea <3 Can I please get a ship for shadowhunters (from any of the three series) and marvel? I'm a straight female so I'd prefer a male please!

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes and I have broad shoulders. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down!

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do, though I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch.

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are fantasy and poetry. I also love learning about new things and collecting knowledge, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Placements - I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Thank you very much!! Congrats once again and I hope you have a great day <3

hello! you have no idea how excited i got when i realized you wanted a shadowhunter pairing~~ my heart skipped a beat lol

you sound like the absolute sweetest person ever, and for your shadowhunter pairing, i ship you with:

matthew fairchild! (not my art, by the way! this beautiful piece is by @nairafeather on both tumblr and instagram. give her a follow!!)

(also, i noticed in your ask that you said any of the *three* series- but i didn't notice that until after i wrote the whole thing! i really hope you've read the last hours, or else this might be a disappointment. if you don't know this character, i'm so sorry! i hope you like it anyways. buttt, if you haven't read them, this is a sign! because i'm telling you, matthew might be your literal soulmate. not even kidding.)

here's why i think you two would work:

for one, you have similar interests! you both harbour a love for literature, poetry, and art- and you and matthew are two individuals with extremely creative minds. the two of you would certainly connect with discussions of art, humanity, and love. matthew is an emotional person, and so are you! the similarities would drive forward a mutual affection, since both of you would associate the other with like-mindedness and entertainment. (and, from the looks of it, neither of you like to be bored. i am in love with the picture of you two just being completely lost in a conversation! so open to debate, different opinions, and friendly banter... ugh. i'm actually jealous.) i just feel like the two of you would get along really well on a day to day basis. you have a similar way of thinking, and you both have a sort of lust for life and adventure- in a very romanticised way- that some of the others (*cough* james *cough cough*) don't have.

(i'm crying at the idea that matthew would FINALLY have someone like him to be with. i love james, but he's so unlike matthew.... i just know our little fairchild would be head over heels for you, just because of the way he connects with your mind.)

i have a feeling that you two would be the sort of couple that are just absolute best friends. it's not that you two aren't romantic with each other- it's that your romantics come in multiple forms! most of all, the two of you strive to be together- to adventure, to laugh together, and to never feel alone. the two of you need that.

to be honest, i don't see a lot of cons to this dynamic. i feel like the two of you would compliment each other really well, is all- you, a little more lowkey, keep matthew in line when need be- and matthew, always the daredevil, pushes you outside your comfort zone and introduces you to a world of beauty and opportunity you never would have seen without him.

in a way, i suppose that could be a challenge. the two of you are indeed a lot alike, but you are more down to earth and have stronger values than matthew does. this could leave room for conflict, but then again- it's really just room for the two of you to build mutual trust, and fall even more in love with the other.

(damn. i might need cassie to write you into the series, girl. i hope you adore matthew if you didn't already.)

- - -

now onto your marvel pairing! this one was SO much harder but i've decided to ship you with:

peter parker (andrew garfield edition)

i think that peter would be a really brilliant match for you, honestly! out of all the spidermen, andrew’s is definitely the most romantic, and the one most fixated on the little things. he is driven by his morals and his love for the people around him, just like you are.

also, i feel like the two of you have similar habits when in a relationship. you’re both competitive, playful, and ambitious, and i think you’d get on well. peter is the type of guy to just wholeheartedly support you and everything you do, despite his tendency to tease.

i had to sit on this pairing for a while, but seriously- you and peter would make a great couple, for the same reason you and matthew would! you’re very similar people! peter is emotional, people-oriented, and thoughtful, which would beautifully compliment your curiosity and wit. the two of you would be the type of couple to just entertain yourselves for literal hours, taking the most basic topics and turning them into the most fascinating discussions.

peter would just live for spending time with you, and you with him. together, the two of you make each other feel seen, free, and young. it’d be a relationship built on commonality and simple adoration. your favorite type of date is to literally just sit and talk to him, because his personality feels like a breath of fresh air in your busy life. plus, peter is just a hopeless romantic, my god. he’s a bring-you-flowers, kissing-on-rooftops, gifts-for-no-reason type of guy. give it three months, and this man would do literally anything for you.

as for the unavoidable negatives:

the biggest issue with this dynamic would be rooted in peter’s fear, for sure. if he fell in love with you, he may become quite overbearing in his desire to protect you. with your free spirit, this wouldn’t go over well- and i can imagine the two of you would disagree on your level of involvement with peter’s life. (of course, this all depends on whether or not you knew he was spiderman...) whether you knew or not, though, he would probably begin sneaking around, only ever spending time with you as peter. he might even lie to you about his whereabouts, which could create conflict. his protectiveness, while not being underserved, might make you feel smothered at times.

in the end, peter’s love for you trumps all. the two of you, because of your likeness, would feel like your love was worth fighting for. peter would feel a great attachment to you, and despite both his and your better judgement- i have the feeling neither of you would be able to stay away.

communication is definitely the answer to this relationship. you and peter would both know this, and though it might be hard, i think that the two of you could manage to find a balance within the hectic circumstances.

- - -

bonus: if you happen to be in to older guys (lmfao) i would also definitely ship you with bruce banner! characterization-wise, he’s actually quite similar to peter, and i think that your natural curiosity and cleverness would match bruce’s more humble, wise personality.

anyways. that was long, i am so sorry. i hope you enjoyed (and i pray to god you even knew) the characters i chose for you! much love <333

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fatilightwood · 3 years

Text

Our story

You can read it on Ao3

Chapter 1: Dare

“Well, it’s over for you, my dear friend; you’ll have to accept your destiny.” Matthew said triumphantly.

“Oh, God”, James said. Thomas was doomed.

The Merry Thieves were at the bar, playing cards and instead of money they were choosing truth or dare. The key being that you need to alternate between them, and the last time Thomas lost he had picked truth.

He was starting to regret it; it would have been easier to take a dare from Kit (the last winner) than a dare from Matthew. That was another rule, the winner was the one who came up with the question or the dare.

The blonde put his hand under his chin, thinking. He scanned the room, it was mayoralty occupied by college students. Some of them were drinking, some of them doing assignments, some of them doing both at the same time. That was what college life meant, anyway.

Matthew’s green eyes brightened. “Oh, I know, I know,” he said and made a dramatic pause “you have to go to a table and ask someone for their number.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Tom, any table.”

They all started to scan the room, some tables had 4 or 5 students, in others just 2 people but to Thomas’s bad luck, there wasn’t a single one with just one person. So Thomas would humiliate himself in front of at least 2 people. He immediately knew that 2 people were the best choice and he saw two boys in the corner, 2 girls chatting animatedly, a boy and a girl were in other table and at last he saw a single girl at one table. It was the perfect choice but he wouldn’t go to a girl, like yes, it was just a dare but he wouldn’t want to play with a girl when there wasn’t the slightest chance that he would call the girl.

“Perhaps that guy over there, blue backpack on the floor.” James suggested.

It was the boy with the girl. Thomas had thought he could be an option. He didn’t want to go with the two boys. The boy in question had dark hair and dark olive skin. He was really handsome and Thomas saw him smiling before sipping from his soda. Thomas knew he was his best option but suddenly he panicked. Humiliation was worse if the guy was cute.

“We don’t even know if he’s into guys. I don’t want to just go and scare people.”

“It’s just a number, and you’re not going to be forcing anything, just ask, he’ll decide. And for the record I’m sensing he might be interested.”

“Are we just going to trust in your radar with a person that is at least 15ft of you?”

“Has it ever failed?” Matthew said smugly.

“I want to point out that no, it hasn’t.” Christopher said, always stick to the facts.

“There you go.”

“Right, but he’s with a girl.” Pointed out James

“They’re just friends. I’m 99.9% sure.”

Thomas raised one eyebrow at him, took a sip from his beer and started walking towards the boy. When he arrived to their table, both of them were reading something on the girl’s notebook.

“Excuse me.” He said, and then two pair of eyes were glaring at him. But only one pair made him nervous again. His eyes were dark, he assumed that even if he came closer to him it would be hard to tell where his pupils began.

Those eyes were filled with curiosity and amusement. Oh, God, they were beautiful.

And if Thomas weren’t occupied daydreaming he would have noticed the slight movement those eyes made, as if wanting to absorb the entire picture that was Thomas.

“You were saying?” The boy said.

That got Thomas back to reality where he had to ask this handsome guy his number. Damn it, Matthew.

“Hi, I— I was wondering if you could...if you want, of course, if you will give me...” the boy kept staring at him waiting for the full sentence. This wasn’t working. “Look, my friends and I were playing cards and I lost, so I was dared to ask for your number, and I know it’s pathetic but—”

“Dares with cards?” The boy asked

“Truth or dare with cards, yeah.”

“Never heard of that. You should have picked the truth, though.”

“I couldn’t, rules are rules. I’ve already picked the truth.”

“Give me a slice of paper.” The boy said to the girl. Oh, man, it was happening. He was going to give him his number. That was when Thomas realized that he didn’t even think about bringing a napkin or a pen. And that his smart friends didn’t either. Idiots, idiots, idiots.

The girl had long hair and kind eyes, she was pretty and was watching them with a barely contained smirk. She ripped one of the pages and handed it to the boy.

“I’ll take it that you’re not very good at that game.”

“I’m not, but it’s fun...most of the time.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be the reason you’re not having fun.” He looked him straight in the eye and then he started writing something in the paper.

“You can fake one, it—” Thomas began to say.

“I didn’t.” He gave the boy the paper along with a wide smile. “I can do that if that’s what you want.”

Almost imperceptibly, Thomas moved the paper away from Alastair’s reach.

“I think I’m going to keep it.”

Thomas stood there awkwardly. The silence fell between them until the dark haired boy talked again.

“I’m Alastair, by the way. And given that you already have my number, will you at least tell me your name?

Thomas’s hand went to the back of his neck. How many things could he forget?

“I’m Thomas.” Then he realized that it was rude to keep ignoring the girl. “And you are?”

“I’m Ariadne, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Indeed. Hope we can see each other again.” Alastair said.

“Yeah, I know where to find you.” He shook the paper. “See you, guys.” He gave them a tiny smile and Alastair smiled back.

Alastair and Ariadne watched him return to his seat, even though they already have known where he was seating. Thomas and his friends weren’t subtle when it came to talk about people.

“Stop drooling.” Ariadne said.

“I am not.”

“Please. You’ll leave a stain on the table.”

“Whatever, he’s cute.”

“So cute you gave him your number.”

“What do you want me to say? I had to, it was kind of like a public service.

“Poor Alastair, he’s always doing good deeds.”

“Someone has to.”

They burst out laughing.

“Well, you had your fun. Now, keep going.” Alastair said gesturing to Ariadne’s notebook.

***

When Thomas returned to his table he saw three faces in need of gossip.

“So?” James asked

“I got his number.” He showed them the paper.

“I told you.” Matthew smirked knowingly. “Don’t ever doubt my power again.”

Thomas wasn’t going to say he actually had to tell the guy about the game to get his number. It wasn’t worth the risk. He decided he wouldn’t go through that hell again.

“So, how was it?”

“I went to the table, I started talking, I stopped talking and then I asked for his number and he gave it to me.”

“Did he flirt with you?” Matthew asked.

Thomas hesitated.

Did Alastair flirt with him? He wasn’t sure what just happened.

“Maybe.”

“I knew it.” Matthew said triumphantly

“So, when are you going to call him?” Kit asked

“What?”

“I think he should wait a few hours or even until tomorrow.” James intervened.

“What?” Thomas repeated “Nobody said anything about calling him, I thought I just had to ask for his number.”

“Yeah, but you liked him and he...”

“I didn’t—”

“You giant liar.”

“Come on, Tom, we saw you, you rubbed the back of your neck, you do that when you’re nervous.” Matthew said accusingly.

Sometimes Thomas hated they had grown up together. They knew everything about him.

“Well, the whole situation made me nervous. And that’s precisely why it was a dare. Now, come on, boys, we are not gonna let Matthew win again, are we? You’ll pay for this, Fairchild.”

Matthew was already shuffling the cards.

“I don’t know, Tom, from the looks the guy is still giving you my guess is that you’ll be thanking me.” He winked at him.

Thomas refused to turn around.

Chapter 2

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #modern setting #tlh gang #tlh #thomastair fluff #thomastair supremacy

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thepictureofsdr · 3 years

Note

I JUST REALIZED UF WE PLAY OUR CARDS RIGHT CORDELIA CAN BE THE AVATAR

Also Christopher and Mathew where are they in all this

Were paralleling James to zuko which I love

And i think Lucie is just like an iroh presence

Are we fitting Christopher in through Thomas?

Maybe he can be a non bender????

Mathew i REALLY dont know

OKAY YES THIS IS VERY POSSIBLE HERE IS MY PROPOSED TIMELINE

1. firelord belial comes into power, begins war propaganda

2. tessa is born

3. if we’re going w ATLA canon the airbender genocide would happen around here, bc its after tessas birth and we could say it was so no airbender could try to have claim to the throne

4. marriage to will

5. raids on the southern tribe begin (I THINK CALLING THE PREVIOUS AVATAR VERLAC JUST FITS), the avatar begins to interfere

6. elias lands in the south and defects, meets sona

7. year or so later, alastair is born, then james

8. death of the avatar

9. birth of cordelia then lucie

10. years later, raids continue and elias leaves

11. around the same time, will is assassinated and tessa flees the palace with no chance to safely get her children away, finds jem

this way cordelias birth coincides with the death of the avatar and the passing on of ravaa and it has the parents in the right place at the right time

part of me wants to say jem could have an iroh presence, the calming albeit badass uncle, but the idea of him being tessas first love and her running back to him to have mina (IF ANYONE RANDOM IS SEEING THIS IM NOT SAYING TESSA DIDNT LOVE BOTH AT ONCE THIS IS A DIRECT REFERENCE AND INTENDED PARALLEL TO THE POST SHOW ATLA COMICS NOT A COMMENTARY ON THE CANON TID MATERIAL) is just too good, i can 100% see lucie w that, lucie committed the ghost equivalent of violating the geneva convention and iroh is a war criminal so,,, IT FITS

okay so for christopher, you remember those earth bender scientists whose goal was to better the world through technology? BAM i feel like it fits, also we could say that gideon and gabriel are earth bender siblings, explaining both cousins being earth benders? non bender or not i think he’d still be part of the earth kingdom scientists, give me opinions

MATTHEW IS SUCH A WILD CARD I GENUINELY DONT KNOW?

okay wait an idea JUST CAME TO ME AS I TYPED THIS WAIT

Okay so in the comics there was this colonized earth bender area that over the course of the war, actually merged with the fire nations culture, so after the 100 years, this town was run by earth and fire members (remember kids innocent and brainwashed civilians aren’t evil), there was a specific export of this colony, a substance that could only be created by fire and earth benders working together

so what if henry was one of the earth scientists working in the colony and charlotte was the leader of the colony, a fire nation noble who was sent to lead it and does her best to keep them out of the war, and they have two children, the older one who likes politics and everyone hates bc he’s sucking up to powerful war supporters, and a younger one who doesn’t care much for politics and ends up following the banished prince. james hates him at first bc he would give anything to have a stable loving family and he can’t believe matthew would just flounce off and leave them behind but eventually they understand each other, cue a dramatic speech about lack of opportunities in a colony

as for the fairchild brothers bending i still don’t know but i feel like fire and earth decently fit charlotte and henry but i think the career part definitely fits, apologies for the multi part essay but THOUGHTS?

#zia!!!#tlh atla #answered ask

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darcyolsson · 4 years

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please, do tell us why matthew will/won't die

thank u, anon, for endorsing me

enjoy an extremely long meta analysis on what i think will happen to matthew fairchild in chain of iron (+ chain of thorns)

ETA: the new tungle jungle update killed list formatting so all my bullet points are now below each other instead of having sub points but its Fine, i’m FINE, u just have to read over it i guess, let’s get to it

let’s start out with some reasons why matthew is extremely unlikely to die (spoiler warning for chog and tid!!!)

plot protection! matthew is more plot protected than.. literally anyone imo. the storyline of his secret and his romance with cordelia are two reasons he’s very unlikely to die because there’s too much to be resolved. killing him off would mean leaving those plotlines entirely unresolved.

similarly, matthews deep mental health issues funnily enough protect him from dying. cc never kills off characters who are struggling with themselves. (jessamine is the exception to this, more on that later)

same goes for the fact that matthew is bi- lgbt characters generally don’t die* in cc’s writing. she avoids the kill your gays trope like hell which, tbh, good for us???

not as stong of an argument, but it would make tlh too similar to tid- killing off the herondale’s parabatai who’s also interested in the main girl? yeah. i know cassie recently spoke about how she doesn’t really care for comparisons between tlh and tid, but i feel like this would be pushing it.

but then again, there’s a Lot of reasons why matthew might be dead as hell by the end of coi i’m sorry

most of all, book two madness! shit always goes down in the second book. cassie has also hinted at Shit Going Down in coi, and considering a lightwood already died in chog, i wouldnt be surprised if a main dies

“But Victoria Why On Earth Would That Be Matthew” well! because literally everybody else Cannot die:

it won’t be anna, alastair or thomas bc of said avoidance of kill your gays (And they still need to kiss kiss fall in love); grace, lucie, james and cordelia are simply too important to the plot for cc to kill them; and jesse’s... already dead idk what to tell u

i’m aware this leaves out christopher too, but tbh? i wouldn’t be too surprised if he dies. the only thing saving him rn are that he still has to marry grace if we’re following the family tree and that he has to invent fire messages but....... those are attainable goals for a single book imo (unlike matthew sorting out his Stuff) so... Perhaps it’s gonna be kit but thats a whole nother post

yeah i know i also just listed a bunch of reasons why matthew wont die but bear w me

so why matthew? because, plot-wise, there’s advantages to him dying, that other characters’ deaths wouldn’t have:

it would solve the love triangle. as a fairstairs it pains me to say this but it’s fairly straightforward: matthew dies, the gracelet is destroyed, jordelia lives happily ever after. we know jordelia will probably be endgame, so.. yeah.

on that same note: matthew doesn’t have a love interest besides cordelia. we know we won’t be seeing the tlh characters in another series, so everybody that lives has to get their happily ever after, which in cc’s case means being happily married. if i recall correctly, the only main characters that have ever ended up single at the end of their books were tda characters that we know we will see again in twp.

he isn’t on the family tree. we know for a fact that we can’t trust the family tree, but i think it’s unlikely for cc to just... ignore something as big as that.

but vic, wouldn’t a dead person be on the family tree? good question! that leaves us with our third option: matthew dies, but doesn’t die, aka downworlder/disowned matthew

basically, the whole idea is that matthew either becomes a downworlder and loses contact w the gang, or he gets stripped of his runes/disowned for what he did to charlotte

it would be a way for him to distance himself from the shadowhunters without actually dying- so it would create none of the ethical issues that come w dying (such as kill your gays) but it would distance him from the shadowhunters enough to let jordelia do their funky business.

matthew being stripped of his runes would explain why he isn’t on the family tree too, bc we know shadowhunters that were stripped of their runes aren’t allowed to have contact w their family.

i’ve talked about vampire matthew before but basically: there’s some hints at matthew staying young forever in chog, and him dying but becoming immortal instead would basically be pulling a jessamine. he dies, but doesn’t die.

becoming a vampire would also give us the Drama™ of his death scene, mayhaps some dramatic confessions, plus it would give him literal eternity to sort out his alcoholism/underlying issues (though i think that will be sorted out by the end of cot)

this also fixes the lack of love interest: if he’s immortal, that means we will probably see him again (maybe in twp/tec?) (with a hot vampire bf/gf, of course)

the only argument against this is again, that it would be too similar to tid, which we know cassie might be avoiding.

also perhaps that ppl might see it as as a way to execute the kill your gays trope without actually doing it, but then again, she sent haline to wranger island Just Like That so,,.,. she doesn’t seem to have any problems w that :^)

basically, i have no idea what’s gonna happen to matthew. i think downworlder matthew makes a Lot of sense, but at the same time it’s a bit of reach imo. if anything, i think it might make too much sense. (i had theories for tda that made a lot more sense than giant naked angels but We Got That Too, didn’t we!)

knowing cc’s writing, i think Matthew Suffers, But Somehow Lives is probably the route she will take. i just have no idea how it will be executed.

thank you for coming to my ted talk!

tl;dr: matthew’s death would be very convenient for some parts of the plot, but it would create a lot of issues with other parts of it. because of this, i think cc might take some sort of dying-but-not-really middle route.

* generally, because there’s a few exceptions: michael is bi but started out dead, which doesn’t count as killing people off imo. the faerie characters that died could be considered lgbt because technically all faeries are bi/pan, but none of the faeries that died ever had a same-sex romance. the aro/ace character that died in tmi is the only one i can think of, but he wasn’t explicitly aro-ace on page until the novellas that followed after tmi. matthew is very explicitly bisexual and has always been very explicitly bisexual.

#this got long dfkgdhj sorry i got carried away #the last hours #matthew fairchild #chain of iron theories #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #tlh theories #tsc meta #op #tlh #tsc #lit #long post \#anonymous #answered asks

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dreamofmysoul-tsc · 3 years

Text

I'll Stay Here With You Until This Dream Is Gone

A story about Matthew Fairchild and James Herondale

Title from “Burning House” by Cam

I’ve never written fanfiction before, nor am I really a writer, but this idea has been poking at my mind for awhile now so I figured I’d write it down. I probably won't write more fanfic btw, my brain just wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this 😅

Little nods to The Haunting of Hill House and Bly Manor if you squint

This story follows the theory that Matthew becomes a Downworlder; in this story he is a vampire, although it isn't that important. Also, lots of angst. Suffer with me y'all. Enjoy!

CW for talks of death and the afterlife

January, 1963

Watery, gray light filters through the thick, velvet curtains despite their best efforts to keep the sun at bay. The house sits quiet, empty save for its owner and a single butler. A man sits at an antique writing desk, blonde head bent over thick sheets of paper, each embossed with a golden MF. He writes slowly, thoughtful of each word he inks onto the pages. A glass of water sits precariously on the edge of the writing desk, half empty.

A series of swift knocks resounds throughout the home. The man doesn't raise his head, expecting his butler, Mr. Wingrave, to answer it. As expected, he hears the door creak open, followed by a quick, muffled exchange. Whoever decided to darken his doorstep leaves as fast as they came, the door closing shut with a resounding thunk. His butler begins to ascend the stairs, but the man continues to write his letter, a half smile beginning to turn up the corner of his mouth.

His bedroom door swings open. "Mr. Fairchild?" Wingrave stands on the threshold, a folded note held in his hand. It is without an envelope, as though whoever wrote it sent it off in a hurry.

"Yes?" Fairchild says distractedly, mind still occupied by his letter.

"A note for you, sent by a Mr. Owen Herondale, sir."

This causes Fairchild to pause. Why did his godson, whom he had visited just last week, send him a letter so early in the morning? Despite his best efforts, he feels a mix of curiosity and mild concern begin to build.

"From Owen? Whatever for?" Not expecting a response, he accepts the note from Wingrave. He unfolds the thin paper and feels his stomach drop.

Father is dying. Please get to the townhouse as soon as you can. He needs you.

-OH

James. His Jamie. He reads the succinct words over and over, unable to fully understand, or perhaps fully accept, their meaning. Of course he knew James was getting on in years, he isn't that in denial, but he had never fully sat back to think about how he would go on or what he would even do when James was gone. Now reality is crashing down on him, harsh and cold, as he lurches out of his seat and grabs for his coat. He barely gives himself time to put his shoes on before he's running out the door, only to be reminded harshly of his vampirism when the winter sun scalds his face. He can't find it in himself to care, ducking his head and sticking to the shaded walls of buildings as he sprints flat out toward Curzon Street.

Thanks to his vampire speed, he manages to limit his sun exposure and make it to Curzon Street in record time. He bangs on the townhouse door, red tears already welling up in his eyes, unnoticed until they begin to fall, cold, down his cheeks.

Owen opens the door immediately, black eyes wretched and lips pressed into a thin line, clearly trying to prevent himself from falling apart. He looks so like James, who always hated to cry too, that Matthew almost lets out the sob building up in his chest, yet he holds it in for Owen's sake. Matthew wraps him in a fierce hug, tucking his godson's face against his neck like Owen used to do when he was a boy. Owen holds onto his godfather's coat, trembling but still trying his best to keep it together.

Owen pulls back, sniffling and red eyed, voice hoarse as he says "Dad is upstairs in the bedroom. He's been asking for you all morning. I'm sorry I summoned you so early, but I just don't know how much time he has left." His voice cracks as he says it, tears finally falling. Matthew holds his face in his hands and wipes them away, pushing his hair from his forehead. Despite being in his 40s, Matthew will always see him as the chubby faced little boy Owen was so many years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew ascends the stairs up to Jamie's bedroom. Cordelia, having passed a year prior, would've reprimanded him for getting dirt and slush on her lovely rugs. He almost chuckles at the memory.

James' door is already ajar as Matthew gently pushes it open. It takes Matthew yet another valiant effort to hold in a sob. James lays back on the bed, hands folded over each other, white hair fanned out behind his head like a halo. He holds a gold necklace in one hand, a miniature globe attached to the end of it, and a photograph in the other.

Matthew takes a seat in the cushioned chair by the bed and rests his hands on the duvet in an attempt to stop their shaking. "Jamie," he whispers, voice hoarse.

James' eyes crack open, still the same champagne gold as when he was a young man, and miraculously, he smiles. Matthew finally lets out the cries he's been holding in upon seeing that smile, warm and earnest, a smile that can only be described as so perfectly James.

James sets the objects in his hands aside and reaches out a surprisingly steady hand as Matthew meets him in the middle. He holds onto James' hand like it's a life raft, pressing his knuckles to his forehead and doing nothing to quiet his crying.

"If I had known it'd be this soon-" he chokes out, red tears staining James' calloused hands.

James cuts him off gently. "None of that, Matthew. What was I supposed to do, wait around until death came for me? My body is giving up on me, Math. I knew that my time was coming and that's exactly why I need you here. Because despite everything, I'm afraid. And although you no longer have the rune, we are still parabatai. I'm afraid of what comes after, Math, and I...please, just sit with me."

Matthew looks up, bloody tears dripping steadily onto James' poor bedsheets. He squeezes his parabatai's hand and he nods. "Of course I'll stay with you, Jamie bach. Whither thou goest, I shall go, remember? Even if I can't feel you, I won't let you go into the dark alone."

James lets out a soft chuckle as tears form in his eyes and squeezes Matthew's hand in return. "Thank you, Math."

As the day progresses into night, Matthew finds himself laying next to his parabatai, pushing his white hair back from his forehead and listening to his slow, wheezing breath. James sleeps and Matthew watches, afraid that if he so much as looks away from him, his friend won't have a hand to guide him into his afterlife.

Owen visits periodically to check on his father, occasionally clutching onto his hand and looking on with heartbroken eyes. He's even so kind as to offer his godfather blood, blood that they kept refrigerated for his visits, but the thought of stomaching anything causes bile to rise in the back of Matthew's throat.

Earlier, while arranging himself on James's bed, he finally caught a glimpse of the photograph James had held in his hand. It was a photo of them in their teenage years, Matthew's arm draped over James' shoulders, dressed in fashions well out of style, bright smiles on their faces. Matthew remembered that day well. It was a hot day in June and they'd gone to Regent's Park to enjoy the summer weather and catch up on reading. What had started as a peaceful summer day had ended with Matthew dramatically-and loudly- reciting passages from Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest while passersby looked on in faint amusement or unmasked annoyance. James had been mortified, repeatedly begging Matthew to stop through fits of laughter, ending with the boys play wrestling in the grass as James attempted to grab the play's script from Matthew's hands. They had ended up with grass stains all over their shirts, leaves sticking up in their hair, and Matthew was fairly certain he'd almost upended their picnic basket into the pond. It had been one of the best days of Matthew's life.

Matthew laughed through his tears as he gazed down at the photo, holding onto James' hand even tighter and continuing to watch him. He had once called James his heart and now he realizes how true he had been. James was always steady and strong, a presence he could rely on when he oftentimes couldn't even rely on himself. He kept Matthew tethered to the earth while Matthew in turn kept James from getting lost in his head. Matthew the kite, James the line. And without the line, Matthew wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Logically, he knew this would happen. James would die and Matthew would live on, unchanging. And one day he would realize he had lived more days without James than with him. The sense of panic he felt at the thought of forgetting his laugh, his dry wit, the specific way he annotated his books, even the way he made his tea, was so strong it almost knocked the breath out of him.

But as he takes in the face of his parabatai, his best friend, that panic winks out as quick as it came. Matthew's death was uncertain, but it wouldn't evade him forever. And although Matthew never considered himself a spiritual man, he believed that he would see James again. He had to believe that, otherwise he knew that his grief would threaten to eat him alive. Matthew knew that James' grief had threatened to eat him alive, too, after Cordelia's passing. If Matthew can gift his friend a peaceful end, he hopes with everything he has that Cordelia will be there to guide James home.

James dies not in the thick of battle or at the vicious claws of a demon, but in his bed, left hand held in the iron grip of his parabatai. He dies gently, quietly, breath suddenly stopping, hands going limp at his sides. Matthew hears his heart stop beating before James even exhales for that final time, pressing his forehead to his friend's and letting himself cry, guttural and grief stricken, unashamedly weeping into his parabatai's neck. Distantly, he hears his godson enter the room despite the late hour. Distantly, he sees Owen fall to his knees next to his father's bedside and clutch at his arm, joining Matthew in his lamentation.

And so, he holds onto James' hand and he cries. And he hopes with everything he has that he will see him again. He keeps that hope in his chest, a lighthouse on a distant, stormy shore, as he closes his parabatai's eyes and whispers, "Ave atque vale, Jamie bach. Hail and farewell."

#my first fanfic #i made myself sad #tsc #tlh #matthew fairchild #james herondale #i love them so much but they hurt me #tw talk of death and the afterlife #full of angst #sorry y'all #owen herondale #the dates of james and cordelia's deaths are from the v inaccurate family tree btw so take em with a grain of salt besties

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anarmorofwords · 2 years

Text

I posted 3,660 times in 2021

912 posts created (25%)

2748 posts reblogged (75%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.0 posts.

I added 3,394 tags in 2021

#the last hours - 752 posts

#tlh - 637 posts

#alastair carstairs - 470 posts

#thomas lightwood - 312 posts

#matthew fairchild - 274 posts

#chain of iron - 209 posts

#the shadowhunter chronicles - 201 posts

#shadowhunters - 200 posts

#thomastair - 189 posts

#chain of gold - 150 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and charming people ≠ making friends. on the contrary. in this case it's him giving those people a fake persona to like and hiding himself.

My Top Posts in 2021

Nikolai: *unleashes his demon*

Kaz:

376 notes • Posted 2021-05-02 11:24:55 GMT

facts

390 notes • Posted 2021-03-19 23:53:11 GMT

bitches really be like "oh my poor heart, all those feelings" while listening to dramatic love songs when they've never been in love, just because they got invested in some fictional couple...

it's me, I'm bitches

430 notes • Posted 2021-09-01 19:11:28 GMT

you see the struggle

585 notes • Posted 2021-08-31 20:44:42 GMT

losing an online friendship is so fucking weird, it's just that one time you suddenly go too long without talking, and then you don't know how to start again, and you start wondering whether they'd still want you to, whether you were actually friends or just projecting again, and you keep seeing their posts and stories, but suddenly feel like a stranger behind glass, and then you see a story about them being sad and your first thought is to ask "what happened, dear" but at this point you just... can't. it sucks. majorly

1136 notes • Posted 2021-05-20 21:31:32 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

i cannot fucking believe my most popular post is that, like c'mon that's pathetic

and honestly she doesn't deserve to be the cause for my top post, ffs

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #tw swearing

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luciehercndale · 4 years

Text

Alastair and Matthew Analysis

I’m here with my quick ideas again... but I thought how Alastair Carstairs and Matthew Fairchild are “parallel characters” or “mirroring characters”, which means that they can seem like the sun and the moon, black and white, but truthfully share some storylines, goals, interests that may not seem clear if you don’t analyze them.

Daddy and Mommy Issues

Both Matthew and Alastair have/had problems with one of their parents. Alastair doesn’t seem too close with Elias at the moment, and the reader is led to believe that it’s because Elias was an alcoholic and Alastair always had to clean after him and he’s tired to play the “father” because he’s the older brother. These are just smoke screens that probably cover @cecilyfightwood‘s theory that Alastair isn’t Elias’ son and that he hates his father and probably his mother as well for lying to him. It surely is a traumatic experience to discover you are not who you believed you were. Meanwhile, Matthew used to be paranoid about his mother because Alastair (it isn’t casual that was him, my friends) spread the rumor that Matthew was the result of an affair between Gideon and Charlotte, thus making him resent his mother without knowing for sure if what Alastair said was true. And we know what happened. Matthew lost a sister, while Alastair’s mother is pregnant. Like I said, NOT casual at all. Alastair spread a rumor about Matthew (that wasn’t true) that could apply to himself, maybe because Alastair already suspected he wasn’t his father’s son. Perhaps he did it to transfer his pain and anger to another person, even if by doing this he didn’t just hurt Matthew, he also hurt Thomas. Why Matthew? For one, he is Charles’ brother, and I think at the time of the rumor Alastair was already in love with Charles. Being Charles, Charles... perhaps he hurt Alastair and he was indirectly hurting Matthew in return? Because he couldn’t hurt James and Christopher. No one would believe their parents to be unfaithful to each other (well because they are identical to their parents and you can’t question they are their parents’ kids, it would be crazy. While Matthew’s parents don’t have blonde hair). It’d be easier to believe that Charlotte and Henry weren’t tight because in TID it is what some people of the Clave think too. This is a plot device, and it is also a strong reason for Matthew to despise Alastair. Now what I think? I believe that we’ll indeed discover more about Alastair’s heritage and we’ll probably seem him trying to come to terms with it and with everything he’s done, and I’m up for it, because Alastair has a great potential. As for Matthew, he still carries his guilt for having unwillingly killed his sister in the form of a small flask in his vest. So in the next book I hope he realizes that he needs help with his drinking problem before it’s too late, because it is a serious matter. They’d both need a therapist. lol.

They are both rude but fluffy inside

Alastair and Matthew are those types of characters that are often described as rude, difficult, arrogant, etc. but when they take their masks off - they both wear masks - they are loyal and protective and they just want one thing in return, even if they don’t dare to voice it out loud. The one thing that seems impossible for them to get: they want to be loved. Alastair was a bully. He said that he chose to be the bully to feel powerful and not stomped on, which means that despite the bad things he did, deep down he is redeemable. Which means the real Alastair is someone else, someone who is afraid of showing the world who he truly is. Matthew is not a bully but he is also rude, and doesn’t easily trusts strangers. He doesn’t have many friends, and even his closest friends, including his parabatai James, don’t really know the real Matthew. Who is the real Matthew Fairchild? We still don’t know. Unlike Alastair who covers his true self with bullying, Matthew covers his true self with alcohol. See, even here Alastair’s specular character has the same issue as his father Elias. Again, not a coincidence. They both seem to act as if the world is their playground in different ways: Matthew flaunting his eccentric clothes, Alastair being overly rude - but truth is they are both insecure. It’s a façade. They both carry guilt and drown their sorrows in two opposed ways: Alastair runs head on to his issues by aggravating them because he’s passive-aggressive and Matthew runs from them by getting drunk.

They love(d) each other’s sibling

Alastair loved Charles, Matthew’s older brother. During their scenes we see that Alastair is different, more open, more vulnerable. He lowers his guard. He also is 50/50 like this with Thomas, because in Paris he spent time with him and when they were working on the antidote, Alastair lowered his guard again, trusting Thomas. Alastair loved Charles but then he figured that he was an ambitious man and he had no place in his heart like he wanted, and liked Thomas more. Well, truth be told, Alastair always seemed to have had a soft spot for Thomas, but perhaps he never thought he would like “like” him. Matthew did the same thing, but in reverse and in the opposite way. He liked Lucie in the beginning, but Lucie repeated several times that she didn’t like him that way, thus nothing romantically ever happened between them. (sadly, because I think Matthew and Lucie had potential as a couple). Then Matthew realized he liked Cordelia, Alastair’s younger sister. From their first scene, it’s clear that Matthew thought Cordelia was nice because of her Oscar Wilde mention, but he fell for her after Cordelia always said nice things to him, like the fact that she doesn’t find Matthew ridiculous.

My conclusion is that Matthew and Alastair’s journeys will be different, yet similar, because they have these plot devices that tie their stories and intertwines them together. And it’s gonna be cool, because Matthew and Alastair are those characters that seem so broken beyond repair and angry and complex and my favorite type of characters. You know why? Because they often make you feel dramatic feelings, angst, bitterness, tear your hair out, but if their redemption journey is written well, they also make you cry of joy and give you a heart-warming: woah, they did it! Hopefully, that’s what we’ll say in the end. Because it’s true they have the numbers to make you feel deeply, but they are also the characters who could risk their life and make you cry, but for different reasons. I really wish CC won’t resort to that (death) because of the tragic traits Alastair and Matthew have.

#matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomastair #fairstairs #chain of gold #chain of iron #tlh #the last hours #theories #my edits

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shadowhuntertrash · 3 years

Text

High Notes

Chapter One

Characters belong to Cassandra Clare

Thomas almost screamed when his alarm went off. Yesterday had been one of his best friends, Matthew Fairchild’s, twenty first birthday. It would be stupid to say it was Matthew’s first drink but they went out and celebrated his ability to legally drink anyway. Thomas almost never drank but since his cousin Christopher was still underage and his sister Anna was there he knew one of them would be able to drive them home.

He was currently cussing his drunk self out in every language he could for not turning his stupid alarm off. He slammed his hand on his alarm and was greeted by the sound of someone puking in the bathroom and Matthew cursing the gods before turning his cursing to Thomas. Thomas could hear Christopher laughing in his room.

He and his three best friends shared a four room apartment together. It was a simple apartment with a living room and a kitchenette in the middle and two hallways off the sides. Down one hallway was a door to a bathroom with two doors on either side. One of which belonged to Matthew Fairchild and the other to James Herondale’s. You would find the same if you went down the other hall, but instead of Matthew and James’ room you would find Christopher and Thomas’.

“Thomas Lightwood I might kill you if the thought of opening my eyes didn’t make me want to throw up!” Matthew yelled from his side of the room. The pounding in his head worsened and he just groaned back in response. “God dammit Math stop screaming.” He could hear James’ voice coming from the bathroom and realized that it must have been James throwing up. He heard shuffling from their side of the house and then Matthew’s now considerably quieter voice talking to James. “I’m sorry Jamie are you okay?”

Thomas sighed and let Matthew worry about his boyfriend. James and Matthew had been best friends since 6th grade and they had been dating for about 5 months now. Everyone had thrown a party when they had finally got together. Everyone knew it was coming but the idiots were too oblivious to believe the other liked them.

Thomas got up and walked to the kitchen where he found his cousin, Christopher. Kit smiled at him and put a glass of water and some pain meds in his hand. Thomas smiled appreciatively at his cousin. “God I knew there was a reason we kept you around Kit.” Christopher laughed and Thomas greedily threw the medicine back and swallowed it with a gulp of water.

Thomas thanked him and walked back to his room. The house stayed quiet for about four hours until someone started banging on the door which set off another round of groans. The four hours of quiet they got helped everyone’s hang over but the insistence banging was not doing wonders for their heads.

Christopher laughed again looking unfairly chipper. Thomas walked into the living room as Christopher opened the door to see Lucie Herondale, James’ sister, and Cordelia Carstairs, Lucie’s best friend. They barged in with wide smiles on their faces. “Thomas!” Lucie said cheerily before running up to him and throwing her arms around him. Thomas let out a surprised ‘oof!’ before hugging her tightly back.

Thomas had two older sisters but they had never been close. He was very close to his parents but his sisters had always kept to himself. His parents were very close with his friends' parents. His father, Gideon, and Christopher’s father, Gabriel, were brothers. Christpher’s mother was James and Lucie’s aunt. Christopher and his older sister, Anna, were James, Lucie, and Thomas’ cousin. Lucie and James’ parents, Will and Tessa, were best friends with Jem Carstairs who was Cordelia and Alastair’s, Cordelia’s older brother, cousin. Jem had taken Cordelia and Alastair in when they’re mother died. They’re father had left when Cordelia was born. It was all a bit confusing but Thomas considered them all family. Well almost all of them.

Alastair was a different story. Thomas had been in love with Alastair since he was 15, now here he was 6 years later still simping over the boy he would never be able to have. He didn’t mind though. His mother had taught him that it didn’t matter who he loved as long as they deserved it. Alastair was not a very kind person but Thomas was one of the only ones who ever saw past that, through his rough exterior to the kind person he was on the inside.

Just because Thomas could see Alastair didn’t make them friends though. They were acquaintances of course since his sister figure was in a band with Cordelia. They were all musically inclined.

Lucie and Cordelia both sang and played guitar. They had started a band with just the two of them when they were 16 around the same time Thomas, Matthew, James, and Christopher started theirs. The girls had named their band The Beautiful Cordelia as a joke but it quickly caught on. The four boys created their band which they named The Merry Thieves after Lucie’s nickname for them as children. Matthew had an amazing voice and occasionally played the piano, James was an amazing drummer, Thomas played guitar and he wrote their songs, Christopher played the bass guitar for them.

Cordelia’s older brother, Alastair, was a solo artist who wrote his own songs and performed them. Thomas had never heard a voice as great as his. It was raspy whereas Matthew’s was smooth. Alastair had so much more emotion than Thomas could even dream of singing with.

Thomas was brought back to the present when Lucie pulled back and laid a hand on his forehead. “Darling are you feeling okay?” Lucie gave just about everyone a nickname and for some reason instead of Tom or something of the like she simply called him Darling. At first everyone was shocked because they thought that meant that him and Lucie were dating but they quickly squashed those rumors.

Thomas grumbles in response to her question. She raises one eyebrow and Thomas feels a jolt of jealousy go through him. He’d never been able to do that. “He’s fine, just hung over. They had lots of fun last night.” Christopher said, smirking, Thomas glared at him. He lifted his eyes to look at Cordelia. She was in a pretty white sundress with flowers on it. She had open toed sandals on and her toenails were freshly painted. Thomas flashes her a smile that she returns quickly.

“Hello Cordelia.” She rolls her eyes. Thomas was the only one who called her by her full name and most people were under the impression it was meant to be teasing but honestly Thomas just found her name beautiful and incredibly underused. “Hello Thomas. If you don’t mind would you get the other boys? We have some news!” I nod and turn to go get them.

They were in Matthew’s room now. The door was slightly ajar and from Thomas’ vantage point he could see James was sitting criss cross at the head of Matthew’s bed, he still looked slightly sick but he was smiling down at Matthew who had laid haphazardly down on the bed with his head in James’ lap. His eyes were closed but he had a smile on his face. I knock on the door not wanting to barge in.

James turned to look at him and Matthew opened his eyes. “Lucie and Cordelia would like to tell us something.” James nods and Matthew stretches before climbing off the bed. He turns and reaches a hand out to help James up. James grabs it and interlocks their fingers. Thomas sighed quietly. He wanted that, more so than he would ever willingly admit.

The boys walk into the living room, Thomas a few steps in front of James and Matthew. James goes to hug his sister and Matthew hugs Cordelia. Matthew and Cordelia were rather close because she had let him rant about James to her when he was pining. “What brings you to our beautiful home ladies?” Matthew said enthusiastically, Thomas had a strong suspicion that Matthew wasn’t even hung over. He had a very high tolerance for drinks.

Cordelia and Lucie shared a bright smile. “Well,” Lucie started her smile getting bigger as she talked. “As you know all of our music has been taking off.” They all nod acknowledging the statement. It was true their music was getting big. It was even being played on the radio. They had each released an album.

Lucie smiled at Cordelia again and Cordelia took over talking. “So we’ve been talking with our manager and we were wondering if you guys wanted to go on tour with us?” There was a collective gasp and it was silent for a second before everyone started talking over one another. “You’re kidding! This is a joke!” Matthew. “Yes! Yes yes yes! YES!” James. “For how long?” Christopher.

The girls laugh. “I can guarantee you this is not a joke. It would be for five months. And it would be split evenly between the three of us.” There was a round of cheers and Thomas watched as Matthew shot up and tackled Lucie and Cordelia where they were on the couch. “Oh my god you are my favorite people on earth!” Cordelia giggled and James smacked him on the back of the head.

Matthew pulled away pouting at James and rubbing his head. “After you of course Jamie.” James rolled his eyes and pulled his sister and Cordelia in a hug as well, granted much gentler than Matthew had. “Thank you so much.” He said quietly the girls gave him a soft look and hugged him back.

The girls got up and started walking to the door. “I would start getting ready if I was you. We leave in a week.” Lucie said with a wink Matthew paled and put a hand to his forehead dramatically. “Lucie! You can’t spring this on me and only give me a week to get everything together!” Lucie laughed. “Calm down Matthew! You just have to pick comfy clothes and the costume people will pick our concert attire.” Matthew nods seemingly relaxing at the thought.

The girls were almost to the door when a thought occurred to Thomas. “Girls?” They turn to look at him waiting for him to continue. “You said it was split evenly between three? Who else is going with us?” Lucie and Cordelia seemed to have a silent conversation before reaching a conclusion. Cordelia was the one to answer. “My brother.”

Thomas stared at them blankly. Cordelia’s brother. Alastair. Thomas groaned internally. He was so screwed.

#high notes #high notes: chapter one #thomastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #matthew fairchild #james herondale #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #christopher lightwood #tour #band au

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pricefieldsversion · 4 years

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Matthew x Lucie: “The curves of your lips rewrite history”

I wrote and posted this on AO3, as my Fairondale heart ached because of the lack of content, and this is how it turned out. By the way, I'll leave my AO3 profile here, if you want to check out my other OS and stay tuned for new ones! thelastwriter. Enjoy and maybe let me know what you think, I appreciate it a lot!

It was a beautiful spring Sunday and Lucie Herondale was in the London Institute’s backyard, sitting on the grass and enjoying the warm sunlight while writing a new chapter for her latest story. The air smelled like fresh flowers and the birds were singing and flying from one tree to another. Lucie was feeling super relaxed and incredibly inspired, it was the perfect day to add some new action to her novel. The warm breeze caressed her soft uncovered skin on her arms and shoulders, where the brown waves of her loose hair slightly tickled her.

Matthew Fairchild was laying right beside her, his gaze fixed on the clear sky. It was not unusual to see him hanging around the Institute, since the Fairchilds and the Herondales were great friends and Matthew was often there to train with his parabatai, James Herondale, and to spend some time with him and his sister, Lucie. Earlier that morning, he had spotted her getting ready to go outside and had immediately asked if he could join; Lucie had been surprised by him wanting to spend some time alone with her, she had always thought the reason why he enjoyed being with her was because her brother was there, too. She had been happy to see that, maybe, she had been wrong all this time.

Matthew turned around to look at the young girl on his right: she was wearing a lovely light blue dress, and a ribbon of the same colour adorned her hair. She had taken off her white lace gloves – she found it way easier to write without them on – and Matthew was watching her delicate hands move swiftly along the paper. He was glad she was so focused on her papers, because that way she wouldn’t notice the smitten look that was all over his face. His heart had jumped into his chest when she had agreed to let him go with her, he had been dying to get the chance to be alone with her for so long.

“What scene are you writing now?” he asked. Lucie was slightly startled by that sudden question – she had been so focused on her work that she had almost forgotten that he was there with her. She turned to look at him, his blonde locks were sprawled on the grass and his dark green eyes were now looking directly into her blue ones. The buttons of his white shirt were half-done under his golden vest, and his blue necktie was loose. His warm smile made her cheeks flush, and for a moment there she almost forgot about his question.

“Oh, right” she sighed. “So, princess Lucinda just figured out her feelings for prince Martin, but she won’t go tell him already because, despite his latest declaration of love, she is still afraid of getting her heart broken.”

“I think it is quite foolish” he answered. “Why is she afraid, if you said that he returns her feelings?”

“Sometimes, reciprocating the other’s feelings is not enough” she explained, letting out a sigh. “Countless things can come between a potential love story and make it so that it never sees the light.”

“How dramatic” he laughed.

“It is true, Math!” she scolded him, throwing an elbow at him playfully. “Also” she continued “she is afraid of giving in to perilous… temptations. The young man in question is quite the charmer.”

He smirked. “I thought that, by now, you too had learnt that the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”

“You will never grow weary of quoting your beloved Oscar Wilde, will you?” Lucie giggled. “And by the way, it would be very improper of her! It could ruin her reputation.”

“I am sure I will not, my dear” he grinned. “As for your story, I still think it is foolish of her not to act on her feelings. Most importantly, it is your story – you are the one who gets to decide whether something is improper or not. And, as far as I am concerned, reputation is an overrated concept, and people should spend way less time worrying over it.” He winked at her.

Lucie let out another sigh. “Well, I guess that is not the only reason I am reluctant to let her go to him. If she does, I will need to write a memorable scene – I am talking about a grand gesture and the finest romantic speeches, and then it will be inevitable for them… to kiss.”

Matthew widened his eyes, agreeing. “They most certainly need to do it!”

“Yeah… that kind of is the real problem” said Lucie, shyly.

“Why would it be?” he asked.

“I… okay, I will tell you. The thing is, my kissing scenes are dreadful! I cannot write them properly, I cannot even get them right by reading them in other books. And, of course, I cannot take my personal experience as an example.” She looked down, too embarrassed to look at her childhood friend in the eyes while discussing such matters with him, especially since they were alone out there, unchaperoned and all that.

“Are you telling me the beautiful, sweet Lu has not been kissed yet?” Matthew said, lifting himself up from the ground so that he could sit in front of her. He knew he had started playing with fire by asking that uneasy question, but he also knew he wouldn’t care if he got burnt.

Lucie’s cheeks turned completely red, but she answered, still not looking at him in the eyes, “I-I did not get the chance – no fine young man has courted me, yet.”

“That is a pity” Matthew said, “and such a waste” he added. "But perhaps I could still help you with that kissing scene?” He moved closer to her, so that their knees were almost touching. At this point, he was so nervous he had started sweating and slightly trembling. What if he had pushed too far? What if she thought that he was being inappropriate, and that would ruin their friendship? These thoughts were interrupted by her asking him another question.

“And, tell me, how would you do that?” Lucie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I could kiss you” he said, blatantly. “That is, of course, if you will allow me.” By daring to suggest that, he had definitely reached the point of no return.

If possible, Lucie blushed even more, and Matthew noticed, and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

“You are an indecent scoundrel” Lucie laughed. “Suggesting we engage ourselves in such a scandalous activity here, out in the open, where any member of my family could catch us any minute.” Her playful tone made him breathe a sigh of relief, she didn’t seem offended or anything – instead she had started teasing him in turn.

“You are not turning down the offer, though” Matthew grinned, then his expression turned serious. He couldn’t let her think this was just a game to him. “But I understand if you will. You must want your first kiss to be perfect.”

“I actually do.” Lucie remained silent for a couple seconds; then she spoke again. “Do you think that you can live up to my expectations?” she teased him again.

“There is only one way we can know” it was his only answer. Lucie gently tossed her papers and pen on the grass beside her, then looked at Matthew, meeting his gaze. She felt her skin burn from the anticipation. Was she really going to finally have her first kiss?

Matthew’s heart started beating so fast he almost thought it was going to burst anytime. He looked into Lucie’s beautiful blue eyes, who were staring at him, both questioning and excited. Neither of them said another word, as Matthew moved his face closer to hers, until they were just a few inches apart, and then he lightly brushed his lips against hers. “You may want to close your eyes” he whispered. She giggled, and then did so, and he finally locked lips with her, firmly, and placed an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She quietly gasped as she run her fingers through his soft hair.

Matthew began to wonder if he was dreaming – he was kissing her, at last. He couldn’t remember the first time he had thought about how much he wanted to do that, it was too long ago. But this was no dream: Lucie’s lips felt so real and soft and warm against his, her delicate scent and sweet taste were intoxicating him, it was better than anything Matthew had ever tasted in his whole life. He started moving his mouth on hers, getting the shivers every time that she let out a soft moan against his lips. Lucie took him by surprise when she bit his lower lip, but she could definitely tell that he had liked it a lot, because he deepened the kiss and then gently pushed her onto her back and leaned down, never letting go of her.

He moved his lips to her neck and then lower onto the neckline of her dress, but quickly returned to her mouth before he could no longer be able to stop. He prayed the Angel to forgive him for the thoughts that had taken over his mind. He wondered what she was thinking.

Lucie was completely lost in Matthew’s touch, kisses, sighs. She would have never imagined her first kiss to be this… incredible. That probably was the right word to describe what she was feeling, at least partly – she actually was, for the first time, unable to put something into words.

They went on kissing for another handful of minutes, giggling every now and then and enjoying the taste of each other's lips, and the feeling of their intertwined fingers and light caresses. Eventually, he broke the kiss, breathless, and helped her sit up again. He gently stroked her cheek with his hand. He was unsure whether his lack of breath was due to the kiss or to her unmeasurable beauty. Probably both, he thought. “Woah…” he mumbled, smiling.

Lucie adjusted her hair, retying her ribbon while she regained her breath. “So, how did you like it?” she bluntly asked.

Matthew laughed, and just said, “The curves of your lips rewrite history, my Lu” quoting Oscar Wilde again and receiving an eye roll from Lucie as an answer. “Did you like it?” he asked in turn.

“It was wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Now I totally know how to write a kissing scene! Thank you, Math” she said cheerfully. That most likely was not the only reason why she was so happy about what had just happened, but in that moment she was too eager to write every single detail down in her notebook to think about it. She placed a kiss on Matthew’s cheek, then quickly retrieved her pen and papers from the ground and went back into her own world, frantically writing down notes in order not to forget anything.

This time, Matthew was the one to blush.

#matthew and lucie #Matthew Fairchild #lucie herondale #thelasthours #shadowhunters #mucie #fairondale #matthew x lucie

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