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the-merry-thieves · 1 month

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Curzon Street Confrontation, rewritten from Anna's POV

An Anna Lightwood fanfiction/POV rewrite

After an eventful debrief at Curzon Street, Thomas, Christopher, and Anna walked out to the front steps together. Cordelia’s news of the night was still spinning in Anna's mind when she saw Ariadne standing beneath the steps.

“Ari.” Anna moved leisurely toward her on the pavement, making a point of stopping to take a puff of her cheroot. Ariadne had donned her gear from earlier that day and was now in an olive green dress that came in at the waist, accentuating her elegant figure. She looked as beautiful as she always had. “Taking a walk?”

“I wanted to see you,” Ariadne said. “I thought we could—”

Anna stopped the other girl in her tracks. She wouldn’t let Ariadne say anything that might faze her, wouldn’t let Ariadne see the reaction her words might evoke. “Go to the Whispering Room?” Anna blew a long, slow smoke ring and watched it dissipate into the cold night. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. Tomorrow afternoon, if you—”

Now it was Ariadne’s turn to interrupt Anna. Her voice was steady with resolve. “I was hoping we could go to your flat.”

To this, Anna said nothing, only willed her face not to betray her. Over the past two years, she had worked to make her flat a place of comfort, a place that was fully hers. She did not think she could bear being in such a vulnerable space with Ariadne. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. I have an assignation tonight.”

This was true; it was no secret that Anna had a penchant for debauchery, and that she enjoyed the novelty of having a different girl in her bed with each fortnight. Besides, after the battle at the courtyard, Anna had been in the mood for a little fun with a pretty mundane girl. That is, until she saw Ariadne.

Ariadne faltered, and Anna could see a momentary flicker of hurt pass through her eyes. But she covered this up with a smooth, cordial nod of understanding that made Anna’s heart pang inexplicably.

“Today,” Ariadne pressed on, “when we were in the courtyard—when we were first attacked—you pushed me behind you.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Did I?” she asked in her best nonchalant voice, tapping the cheroot between her fingers.

But it was no use; they both knew it was true. Anna knew that she had been unguarded in that instant, letting her face reveal true fear as she thrust Ariadne out of harm’s way. She cursed herself—two years of forgetting, reinventing, and she was still letting Ariadne throw off her guard. She wouldn't let it happen again, starting with this encounter.

“You know you did,” Ariadne said. “You would protect me with your life, then, but you will not forgive me. I know I asked you earlier—”

Anna sighed. “I am not angry at you, nor trying to punish you. But I am happy with who I am. I do not desire a change.”

“Maybe you are not angry with me,” Ariadne said. Dampness had gathered on her long eyelashes; she quickly blinked it away. “But I am angry with myself. I cannot forgive myself. I had you—I had love—and I turned from it out of fear. And perhaps it was foolish of me to think I could pick it up again, that it would be waiting for me, but you—” Her voice trembled. “I fear it is because of me that you have become what you are. Hard and bright as a diamond. Untouchable.”

The cheroot burned, disregarded, in Anna’s hand. But she merely said, in a cool tone, “What an unkind characterization. I cannot say I agree.”

“I could have managed with you not loving me, but you do not even want me to love you. And that I cannot bear.” Ariadne laced her hands together. They were chapped red from the frigid night air, providing an idea of how long she must have waited for Anna outside the house; Anna hated that she noticed this. “Do not ask me to come to the Whispering Room again.”

Anna shrugged, feigning indifference. You are Anna Lightwood, conqueror of others' hearts and ruler of your own; you will not let anyone see you otherwise, she reminded herself. “As you wish,” she said. “I had better go—as you know, I do not like to keep a lady waiting.”

Anna swiftly strode down the steps without another glance at the girl who had broken her heart once and had just broken it again tenfold. She managed to walk only a short distance before sinking down into the unforgivingly hard cobblestone steps of a neighboring house. She laid her head down on the steps and shook silently; no tears would come. She had not cried in so long, it seemed her body had forgotten how to do so.

Anna knew that she had pushed Ariadne away this time, that she had hidden her heart away with intention. For this very reason. So you wouldn't get hurt when something of this sort happened. She thought, trying to convince herself of the assertions she had clung to for years. But if they were true, why did she feel as though her heart had just been run through with a thousand daggers?

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Alright, I hope you enjoyed!! The dialogue is verbatim from the book so credits to the wonderful Cassandra Clare (and of course the characters are also Cassie's), but Anna's thoughts/the things in between are mine!

I'd love to get more involved in the fandom and meet new Shadowhunters-loving friends, so please comment your thoughts and message me if you want!

#anna lightwood #ariadne bridgestock #shadowhunters fanfiction #chain of gold #chain of iron #fanfic #the shadowhunters chronicles #tlh #tsc #the last hours #cassandra clare #shadowhunters

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luciehercndale · 5 months

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I really love your Ghostwriter fics! Is there any chance I could request a mildly spicy fic of Lucie and Jesse’s wedding night? No pressure if you don’t want to. I know a lot of people think they’re too innocent and youthful for that sort of thing, even as adults, but personally I think that being physical would be an important part of their relationship given how Jesse was literally semi-corporeal for most of the story.

Alrighty, anon. It took me a while (you sent this ask on October 2 lol) but finally, after almost two months and half, I am here with what you asked for. So this is my take on Lucie and Jesse's wedding night, which is something I see happening 5-6 years after canon.

I wrote two versions because I wanted to make it as accessible to people who don't like E-rated things. The E-rated fic is from Lucie's POV, whereas the M-rated (I swear it's cleaner than it seems) is from Jesse's POV. I think this story took me a while to write because they are so dear to me and I wanted to write it as realistically as possible. And... here it is. I hope you like it 💜🥺

PG/M Version (Jesse's POV)

E Version (Lucie's POV)

#tsc #tlh #blackdale #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #tsc fanfiction #the last hours #lucie and jesse #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #the shadowhunter chronicles #tweety.writes

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reality-exodus · 4 months

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The Last Hours of a Herondale

Ch.1 Better Angels

Pair: Matthew Fairchild x reader

Words: 2k

Summary: James' twin sister, just like him and Lucie has an unexplained ability, she sees visions of the past and the future occasionally when she touches an object or a person. What happens though, when she sees herself dying?

Warning: maybe blood?

I was surveying the demon battle; I didn’t ponder much as my twin brother and his Parabatai danced with the demon. I was sitting ready to intervene in case it was necessary, I had a bad feelings and unfortunately my gut was usually not mistaken.

James disappeared once again, it used to happen a lot more than that, and it would keep happening to him. The moment he was out of sight I jumped down from the rooftop I was observing. Before I landed I heard Matt’s scream, I immediately took out my whip slapping it in the air as the electricity. I didn’t know if my brother was back and I couldn’t care less about the usual catchphrase Matt would mock me with before running into a battle “Sit back and watch how it’s done”. He is my brother’s Parabatai, namely, the same as James. I was holding Matthew’s stele at the ceremony.

“Dodge” I exclaimed as I had the demon still for some moments, I took out a dagger and threw it at the demon. Matt followed my instruction without further notice.

My plan though didn’t work out for long as the demon escaped the tie of my whip letting me fall backwards.

“Y/N/N!” Matt exclaimed and turned at me, he was actually worried.

“I won’t break Matt, where did the demon go?” I asked and stood up and stepped forward as I activated the voyance rune upon my wrist.

“Lurked back into the shadows” he spoke up confidently. Matt paced further in the dark alley and the demon hissed loudly and gripped his shoulders tightly. He screamed as the demon managed to dug its nails to his shoulders, its mouth opened up in four and he hissed to his face as I leaped on its back and stabbed it with a seraph blade but before its blade could dug through its skull its head turned 180 degrees, its stinky breath straight to my face.

Moments flashed and I saw my brother be back. Deumas roared again and pressured the blade to its chest yelling the angels name, but once he threw Matt off of him and then its attention turned to me, James was already there, he swung his arm back pulling my seraph sword out as I fell on my back in the shadows. James looked like he was losing it.

“James!” I yelled, unaware if he heard me, the demon slapped him as he seemed to disorientate. I groaned in pressure as I prevented another hit to my brother with my daggers. Suddenly the demon was swept off his feet, three chords wrapped around its legs pulling it backwards. It was Thomas standing behind us with his bolas. Thomas was tall and had a massive physique.

“I am alright” my brother assured me and I dodged to the side retrieving my weapon and returning it on my belt. I let my whip loose again and trapped its upper body as Thomas was still holding it in place. With the corner of my eye I noticed Christopher helping Matt, before I returned to the demon that soon burst out in an explosion of ichor and demon blood that showered me and everyone else but my brother.

“Matthew, Y/N-.” My brother begun and as I was wiping the slime from my cloths.

“How- Wha-?” Christopher shuttered and I raised an eyebrow.

“Do you mean how we tracked down the last demon in London?” James asked as he carefully offered me a napkin. “Or that it is also the most disgusting thing?” I was surprised on how calm and normal his voice sounded. I knew he was innerly shaking.

“Or that James managed to make us a mess and yet stay out of it.” I commented to lighten the atmosphere as I wiped the last bit of ichor from under my chin there was a small burn mark from it there. He was the only one untouched.

I saw Thomas roll his eyes in annoyance as he was covered in ichor as Matthew sputtered the seraph blade that defused. “This is an outrage” he commented tossing the weapon aside. “Do you know how much I spent on this waistcoat?” he asked with annoyance and complaint.

“Plus no one told you to go demon hunting dressed like an extra from the Importance of being Earnest” James pointed out, he handed another napkin to his parabatai as well. He was standing between us.

Thomas spoke commenting on Matt as well. Therefore I didn’t hear him. “James, your hand…” I noticed a gash across his palm, I took out my stele and touched his at hand. He removed himself from his grip looking at me for any sign of seizure but I pointed at my gloves and smiled as I drew an iratze. It was usually Matt’s work, but it was only a gash.

Us twins had our very own gift as our parents call it trying to convince us it is not a curse, though nor me neither my brother feel it like a gift, it is an uncontrolled ability we have, that activates randomly. James changes dimensions, he comes back though, his episodes do not last this long and there is nothing we can usually do as he physically disappears. I on the other hand, see visions, usually unclear and enigmatic concerning the object or the person I came in contact with. While I see those dreams, I am falling into a sort of seizure. This happens since I am ten, my uncle Jem though, gifted me a pair of enchanted gloves to wear and I have to admit that it has been helpful.

“Thomas! Stop scrubbing at me” Christopher said, windmilling his arms. “We should go back to the Devil and get cleaned there.”

“I agree, its starting to get chilly.” I spoke and secured my stele inside my pocket. Matt looked at me and removed his fancy waist coat and placed it around my shoulders gently.

“Care to tell me how much you spent on it?” I asked in a mocking way as everyone started walking to the Devil’s Tavern.

“Its useless now either way” Matt replied as I wrapped it better around me while we were walking there. I rarely went to the Devil, it was a hide out, a safe spot for my brother and his friends. I knew it wasn’t true but I felt as I intruded… Maybe because this is how I felt when someone invaded my atelier or music room.

“I almost didn’t recognize the lot of you when you tramped in here covered in whatever you call it…” The waitress commented and I looked at her, Polly I think it was her name. There were welcome exclamations galore, the boys were really loved around here, fairly though.

“Its been ages since we have seen a demon in London” said James

“I reckon they are all too scared to show their faces…” Polly spoke.

“Scared?” James asked confused. The rest of the boys were spread across the Tavern, Christopher and Thomas went to eat and drink some water, while I saw Matt bottoming up a whole glass of a brownish liquid which was one hundred per cent alcohol.

“Scared of what?” I wondered and her gaze fell upon me. She wrinkled her nose, a werewolf she is, she probably smelled ichor, blood and sandalwood upon me.

“And what a beauty like you is doing in such dirty shit hole.” She spoke, obviously avoiding my question.

“You have seen me before…” I commented puzzled at the reaction of the wolf. She extended her hand and gripped my chin lightly and turned my head to the side. I felt my breath be caught upon my chest, intention was good as she dragged her finger behind my ear taking a drop of ichor.

Within seconds James gripped Polly’s wrist and threw it away from me. I turned to my twin, I knew he was there but I was not there, I could see a girl, Polly, go down an alley, she was so carefree and happy until the person next to her suddenly started to change. She would scream and shout for help but the eldest werewolf didn’t seem to be phased, he simply bit her. I squeezed my eyes, I couldn’t watch and therefore there she was, young Polly, her expression twisted in pain and agony from the lycanthropy infection. I opened my eyes again and I could see, or more like sense my brother, he was calm, it was a usual thing for me. I would be alright in about five minutes. I let out a soft cry I was surveying Polly turn into a werewolf for the first time. It felt like forever until I shot up.

I looked around, I found myself into the attic of the Merry Thieves, it was a small space with one bedroom. I was laying on the bed while I still had Matthew’s coat as a blanket over me. I took my time to make myself obvious and I caught an interesting conversation about ‘Grace’

“Her name is Grace” said James, a hint of annoyance upon his voice. I could smell the gin on him as he was sitting on the bed next to me.

“Exactly, Grace” Agreed Thomas “Aunt Tatiana’s always kept them both in splendid isolation in Idris- no visitors at all- but apparently she’s decided to move back to London, so my parents are all in a dither about it” he explained and this unlocked so many memories of our childhood times in Idris where James would secretly go to meet Grace. I did not like her that much as I got along better with Barbara Lightwood, Thomas’ eldest sister.

“Grace? To London?” James asked in complete disorientation.

“Seems Tatiana wants to bring her out in society” Thomas looked puzzled at my brother’s reaction. “I suppose you’ve met her in Idris? Your house is next to the Blackthorn manor, isn’t it?” It was true, We used to meet her every Summer.

There were moments of silence as there was no one responding so it was the time to make the fact that I returned to reality known. “And where will she stay?” I asked the thing my twin wouldn’t dare and I felt his relief wash over his figure as he turned at me.

“Hello there” James smiled at me and patted my knee as I was curled in a ball under Matt’s coat.

“Are you feeling alright? You seemed to doze off at Polly’s charms” Math’s voice sounded smooth and sweet as he joked with me.

“I will live, apparently” I smiled lightly as I felt uncomfortable to speak about Polly. “Too bad for your coat, you won’t have it back today.” I added and curled in a ball under it. It had his smell.

“No worries, it was disposable after James’ smart move” Matthew replied with a charming smile and he patted my head gently.

“Awee how sweet of you” spoke up with a sigh. I felt lightheaded as I sat up, making an effort to balance my head. James held my shoulders not attempting to touch me again, afraid that there would be another episode.

“Your hand…” I noticed as it seemed that my iratze didn’t work as needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Matthew asked and his slim but muscular hand slipped out his stele. I could see his veins as he was preparing his stele.

Thomas approached me with a toast and I chuckled lightly as he offered it to me. “You something bad for Polly, didn’t you?” he asked me. Math and Jame were further but I could notice that they were listening to me.

“I did, but I am actually used to seeing bad things” I explained and certainly did not deny the fact that I was hungry too much. “This is pretty good” I smiled at my cousin as he poured some water in a glass.

“I don’t mean to be the first one to leave a party” announced I, so as to get their attention “however I shall be making my way to the institute.” I spoke up and James seemed to dislike the idea.

“Perhaps you should stay for a bit and then we can return together.” My brother remarked and looked at me. I was trying to understand was it he was fearing fathers wrath or he was extremely worried about me.

“No, I’d rather not” I smiled at him “Do not concern yourself James. I will be completely fine. I promise.” I sat up taking my time to stand up from the old wooden bed of the attic. Thomas was right next to me, I am certain he was pondering where to support me if needed without jeopardizing to have another episode.

“How exactly do you expect me to do that, when you just had an episode” he remarked as he approached me once Math was done drawing an iratze rune upon his skin

“And you had an episode of your own as well and with us not knowing what was the cause of it. At least with me you saw it coming.” I spoke with my voice raising by the note. I was so disturbed by the fact that he considered the incident with me so much more important than his even though it was considered during battle.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed.

“James!” I yelled back almost immediately, it was a reflect that took over and I could not control. I knew that I was supposed to be the delicate girl amongst the boys that were mostly friends of my brother. Nevertheless I could not stand the unfairness of the matter. I was the girl he was the boy we were in the same danger and our troubled moments were just as random and I could not fathom the fact he was being the same phallocratic male like the ones were asking for my hand were.

I started walking to the exit of the attic and Matthew got my elbow. I tried to conserve my gaze therefore I just couldn’t help and stare at him, deadly. “I am going home on my own! I am pretty capable of doing so and I do not need anyone to protect me or my honor. In case it wasn’t noticed I saved Math twice just some hours earlier when you had one hell of a random disappearance to God knows where. Perhaps papa would be interested in a more detailed version of tonight’s success.” I stated, my angry gaze met James’ who’s blood I could feel boiling.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He growled, his teeth greeted and his jaw clenched, his outfit was still well-stood unlike mine. I looked like I was in a battle indeed, my hair tucked in a messy bun with all the braids rogue and my clothes filled with stains and scratches.

“Well, I thought you wouldn’t dare to imply that I wouldn’t make it home alone… And yet here we stand.” I spoke up and threw the coat at Matthew who caught it.

“No keep it, I will come until some point, I need some quality bourbon not this, whatever it is.” Matthew spoke and walked out.

“Whatever” I shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the attic. I knew this would calm down James, just as I knew Matthew would trust me, even though he looks like he doesn’t care at all about me or anyone for that matter…

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ghostwriterfest · 6 months

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Ghostwriter Fest

2023

Hello all! Welcome to this year's ghostwriter fest! The TSC fandom hasn't celebrated Lucie and Jesse in a while, and we decided we should change that!

Ghostwriter Fest will run October 30 - November 6, and late submissions will be accepted until November 1st for reblogs or on the AO3 collection. We've included some prompts below, loose enough to allow lots of creativity.

October 30th - Green and or Blue

October 31th - Snow/Winter

November 1 - Ballroom Dancing/Masquerade Ball

November 2 - Writer AU

November 3 - Post-canon

November 4 - Ghosts/Monsters/Supernatural AU

November 5 - Fairytale Ending

There are no rules except no hate and to support each other. Please send an ask if you have questions. Have fun!

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thrxughthenxght · 9 months

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You said to give you requests so here I am!

"Are we flirting?" "That's up to you." For gracetopher??

Lock & Key

Prompt: "Are we flirting?" "That's up to you."

Words: 1568

Thank you so much for this Bella!! I really like how this turned out and it's just in time for gracetopher week day 7 🤗 Thank you!

Also I haven't read CoT at all so forgive me if this isn't canon compliant. I did my best to be semi-canon. Let me know if you'd like to be on my taglist!

If Christopher wasn’t with his family or his friends he was with Grace. They were walking outside or reading in the library, but most of the time they were in Christopher’s lab, Grace preferring his home to the Fairchild household. Christopher missed the supplies Henry had but he had decent enough items in his lab, and he preferred Grace comfortable. Grace was often tense around other people, even if he tried to assure her all was well. She was quick to jump and fidget and twice she had been the first to exit a room if something startled her, always ready to exit. Now, in the light of the candles on the walls, he noticed the change in her edge.

Her shoulders were relaxed as she measured, and her knees were bent in front of her, her feet resting on the highest run of the stool she sat on. She lacked a corset so could slouch, when usually she was rigid like a log. Her hair was tied upon her head, a few bright strands falling from the hastily done updo. She wore the smallest pair of goggles he could find, and they framed her icy eyes, letting the light illuminate the iris'. Her lips were pressed in a hard line, a slight squint to her features in the thinning of her eyes and wrinkles of her nose. She was deep in thought with that face, and Christopher was both shocked and mortified when she suddenly looked up.

She raised an eyebrow at his staring, and he turned away. "Apol-apologies," he murmured softly, trying to focus on his notes. "You were very focused."

The goggles made a soft noise when the leather scraped the wood. She walked over to him, peering over his arm at the notes. "You're allowed to look at me," she said. "You're not the type to hurt a woman because you find her attractive."

"I wouldn't- I, um-" he sputtered for a moment, tripping over words as he did his own feet when he stepped backwards. He fell on all fours, his rear hitting the stone floor and a grunt flying from his mouth, cutting off his scramble for a response. They stared at each other for a few long moments, then Grace quickly turned away and covered her mouth. Christopher shot up, dusting himself off in the few steps it took him to get over to her. His hand hovered over her shoulder. "Did I startle you? I'm sorry-" Her shoulders started to shake gently and when she looked up he saw the crinkle by her eyes, but no tears. He furrowed his brow. "Are you... Are you laughing or crying? Because I'm not quite sure."

She let her hand fall, and a wide grin was on her face as she laughed gently. He started to lower his hand, relieved he hadn't upset her. He knew she was sensitive to sudden things, whether it be words or movements or memories. He smiled when her laugh got louder, and simply stood and watched her attempt to compose herself. "You fell," she giggled. "Am I truly that frightening?"

He crossed his arms and tried to further straighten his spine. "Grace Blackthorn, you are terrifying."

She smiled. "I'm just a woman."

"And a brilliant one at that."

She shifted to lean on the desk, smiling softer now, but it was close to something mischievous. "Am I not seductive enough for you?"

"That is not a part of your danger."

"No?"

"No. Some people can be seduced. Everyone can be outsmarted."

She smiled. "Well, then I guess we're very dangerous people."

"Indeed." For a moment it was silent, and Christopher cleared his throat. He shifted and broke his stance, looking down before meeting her soft, thunderous eyes. "Is this flirting?"

She shrugged and crossed her arms, tilting her head at him. More of her hair fell to the side. "It could be."

"Are we flirting?"

"That's up to you."

He stood still, trying to understand what she wanted him to do. It occurred to him that many times she had stated she trusted him, but he didn't want to break that trust. Grace was also a person he could spend him time with that involved his primary joys and interests. He loved his friends but he felt best alone with Grace in his lab, their lab. He wanted Grace to be... something, anything. Not to be his but to be theirs. He wanted everything to be theirs. His heart, her strength, his intelligence, her brilliance. He wanted them to be something beyond a friendship but he'd simply never had that before and it was frightening for him. All of Grace's experiences with such things were part of the reason she did not believe in herself or other people, and that scared Christopher most of all. He couldn't bear to be another man on the list of those who wanted her only to hurt her in some way.

"I think-" he snapped his mouth shut, correcting himself. He said he "thought" things far too often when he did in fact know things. "I would like us to be flirting."

She grinned. "So would I."

He lifted his hands gently, as though she could hand him answers. It would be much simpler that way. "What happens now?"

"Well," she said softly, pushing herself off the desk and walking to him until their chests were barely an inch apart. "I would be alright if you wanted to kiss me. Or... touch me, I suppose."

He shook his head. "You want me to do something?"

"Do you not want to?"

"I am frightened to."

She nodded, but her smile was never gone, just a little flicker of light to guide his lips to hers. It was gentle, just a small peck on each other's lips, but it was enough to make Christopher's face warm. She drew back by falling off her toes to her heels and opened her eyes. He blinked for a moment, then started to pull at his sleeve.

"Kiss me again?" She nodded, and he saw a light pink pulling at the snowy complexion of her face.

With another push to her toes she connected their lips again, but this time it was longer. His heart thumped, and another part of his anatomy wanted to join in but he wouldn't allow anything to ruin this; This rush of emotion and immense joy he felt now that he knew Grace wanted him in what was hopefully a similar sort of affection. He could only trust his brain and Grace at the moment, and when his brain slowed that trust fell to solely Grace, but he was quick to trust her to lead him wherever his heart desired. Sometimes it seemed she knew him better than he did. He had seen Matthew kiss girls before, had seen James kiss Cordelia, but he didn't want to do anything James might have done and he didn't fully trust Matthew to be his romantic guide. Instead of wrapping his arms around her he simply rested his hands on her arms, pulling her gently to him and leaning his head down so she didn't have to reach for his lips. Their chests pressed together, and she wrapped her arms around his forearms in return, much like a lock and key clicking into place.

They drew away from each other, and Grace relaxed against him, placing her head on his chest. He stiffened, but took a deep breath when she placed a hand over his heart. "Are you alright?"

She asked, turning her head and looking up at him. He frowned. "Me? I'm fine. Are you?"

She smiled gently. "More than fine, Christopher. I'm very happy."

His smile was quick and light, and he put a gentle kiss to her head, making sure to lean slowly in the event she wasn't happy with the action."I'm glad. I am not one for romance, but," he shook his head, "I have never met someone so wonderful."

She ran her other hand along his arm in soothing lines. "And I have never wanted to love someone so much."

"You could love me?"

"Anyone could love you."

He adjusted his glasses. "I'm not quite sure."

She shook her head. "I know it."

"Then love me."

She laughed gently. "It's not so simple."

"Do you understand love, then?"

"Not in the slightest. Though," she glanced down at the hand that ran the length of his arm. "I'm sure it's like an equation. You need multiple components and some time, then everything will fall into place."

He smiled. "That sounds quite nice."

"Then maybe we should work on it," she looked back up, her gaze so gentle he wanted to hold her closer. "Together."

Together was all it would take, just like many of their experiments. They could go through everything step by step, hand in hand, double checking and erasing their mistakes to make it right. They would figure out how to love, how to be together, as one. That seemed the perfect thing to him, two parts of a whole. One mind and one heart split into two people. That was how they could love, in small pieces they would eventually pick up and fit back together. It was as simple as a lock and a key, with the same hidden depths and perfect unison.

He nodded. "Together."

••••••••••••••••••••••

@iammadeofmemoriesforlife @grace-lightwoodd

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heronchildlove · 1 year

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Hey everyone, I found the secret second epilogue of Chain Of Thorns. It shows what happens with James, Cordelia and Matthew some years down the line, trust me on this one

#you: this is fanfictio- me: OH YEAH? UNLESS THE ANGEL RAZIEL BELIAL 2.0 AND CASSIE THEMSELVES APPEAR TO TELL ME THIS ISN'T CANON #THEN THIS IS CANON #for real now tho it's my fave fanfiction ever it's perfect everyone read it #heronchildstairs #james herondale #matthew fairchild #cordelia carstairs #tlh #the last hours #chot #chain of thorns #chog #choi #chain of gold #chain of iron #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #this fic is the actual loml

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vwritesaus · 1 year

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‘Hello? Earth to Costume Guy?’ Alastair pulls himself back to the present, and finds Kit staring at him with a raised eyebrow and his arms crossed over his chest. It dawns on him then that the poor boy has probably been trying to get his attention for a little while. ‘Sorry,’ Alastair mumbles, feeling sheepish. ‘I, uh… sorry, I was…’ Saying nothing, Kit merely uncrosses his arms and makes a gesture with his hands that clearly states want to tell me what that was about? ‘I hear them,’ Alastair says, ‘but I can’t see them. Or gain any idea of where they are and how to get back to them.’ ‘Who? What are they saying?’ ‘My sister. My friends. To—’ Alastair cuts himself off abruptly and clears his throat. ‘They’re discussing our next steps and also how to go about waking me up.’ Kit’s eyes narrow, scrutinising, and his voice mirrors it as he asks, ‘You think you’re dreaming, aren’t you?’ Alastair shrugs helplessly. ‘Wouldn’t you? If you were me?’

hello!! happy December everyone - and what better way to start the month than with some ANGST (looking at you writers of tumblr who've been posting so far - i see you) and a snippet from the thomastair fic that ran away from me? it's very close to being finished - just got a couple more bits to join up!! but here's a little preview before i post the full fic later on this week ✨

an enormous thank you to @astriefer for betaing, all the lovely words of support and encouragement, helping me choose several snippets to share, and just being an awesome human ♡

do let me know what you think :D also let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates of this fic!

#the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #the last hours #tlh #alastair carstairs #kit herondale #thomastair #thomastair fanfiction #thomastair fic #fanfiction preview #fanfiction #fanfic #time travel #post chain of iron #canonverse #a (too few) hundred hearts #tbh this fic is just me dealing with my thomastair feelings #and also my alastair carstairs feelings

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laylax13s · 1 year

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I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!!!

I'm back to writing!! A new fanfiction is coming (the last hours + Alastair is the mc), it will be pretty depressing and disturbing I may as well warn you. I am not sure about if I should put it into mature or explicit category though, could you help me out?

Contains: r*pe, SA, @bus3, @busive relationships, multiple serious mental conditions, @dd!ct!ons, dr\/gs

#alastair carstairs #the last hours #thomas lightwood #tlh #chain of thorns #chain of iron #cassandra clare #chain of gold #tsc #tlh fanfiction #the last hours fanfiction #anti charlestair #anti charles fairchild

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boredfangirl16 · 2 years

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I was thinking about writing a fanfiction and and came across the idea of doing a sort of “rewrite” of CoG and CoI, but entirely in Alastair and Thomas’ POV. I know it’s not super original, but if you might be interested please like or comment to give me the serotonin I need to start it.

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomas x alastair #thomastair #fanfiction #chain of gold #Chain of Iron #rewrite #tlh #the last hours

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lovelylovelyyylooovv · 1 year

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still wanting for the herondaisy cot fanfic … 😢

#chain of thorns #cordelia carstairs #chain of thorns spoilers #james herondale #herondaisy #the last hours #james x cordelia #chain of iron #chain of gold #james x cordelia fanfiction #fanfic

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all-this-panic-still-no-disco · 2 years

Note

I heard that you were putting out a new thomastair fic. Do you mind telling me what's it about?

ok lets go lets fuckin do this. bear with me here because it’s complicated as fuck.

so, we begin with alastair carstairs on a bright afternoon. he’s angry. cranky. just lost a case and is pissed at a client. about to smash his coffee mug. (alastair is a barrister, which is just fancy british for lawyer.) so, faced with the possibility of smashing his coffee mug or doing something about his Rage™️, he calls thomas and says, ‘can you get over here and fuck me, please’

spoiler alert! thomas and alastair have been hooking up for eight fucking years after accidentally ending up at the same uni.

thomas comes over, they fuck, it’s very cute and very sexy, but thomas has to leave the next morning as he has a class to teach. (he’s a professor of classics at london college university)

alastair goes back to work, stress and anger freshly fucked out of him, and takes up another case. a young uni student just inherited a fuck-ton of money from his grandfather is having his inheritance sued over the fact that his grandfather was unaware that his grandson was gay and if he did know, he wouldn’t have left him so much money. total bullshit, but the family is rich and they have some serious pull.

so alastair says fuck this, let’s get you your inheritance. he works his fucking ass off and halfway through the case’s first day in court, the prosecution brings up alastair’s ‘impartiality’ on the issue of him having a sexual relationship with another man.

surprise surprise! the daily mail just published an article on alastair’s ‘scandal’ of daring to take a case where a young gay man is targeted for being gay. the case is pretty high profile because of the family’s status. (alastair is also a fucking good lawyer.) pictures are included in the article of him and thomas kissing and getting pretty close to fucking in alastair’s living room. they’re both covered enough in the photos, but they’re a horrible violation of privacy and the whole thing is super shitty.

alastair freaks the fuck out and the trial is adjourned, and he runs home to find thomas in his apartment waiting for him, because years ago alastair gave him a key. (they’re totally just hooking up guys)

alastair’s ‘scandal’ soon becomes vaguely trending. all of their friends find out and it’s fucking chaos. alastair is trying his very best not to loose it but he’s not doing very well.

the worst part isn’t the homophobia of it all or the horrific mess of his private acts being posted online, it’s that his career is pretty much ruined. despite having done nothing wrong, even the slightest rumor of a barrister being not 100% bad rep free means he won’t get hired, or at the very least not as much. people don’t want a scandal-associated lawyer because it might sway the jury against their favor. why contract alastair when there’s plenty of other sex-scandal free options?

so alastair’s freaking out about his job when thomas presents this wonderful idea: fake date.

(i fucking know, right?)

it’s actually pretty smart. fake dating will turn the narrative around; suddenly alastair isn’t the barrister who had some torrid affair, he’s a man who’s private life has been grossly invaded, which is the truth. if they give the story the gloss of a committed relationship and hearts and rainbows, alastair won’t be painted as some overly sexual gay man stereotype. he’ll just be a man in love.

they both acknowledge how shitty it is that they have to do this, but agree. they’ll fake date until the trial ends, which alastair will probably win now that the prosecution has been exposed as cheating, homophobic fucks, and everything will be solved. thomas will also stay at alastair’s apartment through this time for totally ridiculous reasons that aren’t true and it’s just because they want to be near one another.

there’s only one problem.

alastair has been in love with thomas for years and despite knowing his feelings are somewhat reciprocated, (he’s a fucking idiot and thinks thomas’s feelings are a surface level crush and a side effect from fucking), he refuses to do anything about it. he doesn’t think he’s good enough for thomas and doesn’t want to wreck thomas’s life by dating him for real. (yes, he’s being self-sacrificially stupid but this is alastair, guys, what did you expect.)

to make matters worse, thomas, idiot and piner extraordinaire, has been fully in love with alastair since he was eighteen. he kept hooking up with alastair all this time because it was the only way he could be near him.

so we have alastair, in love with thomas but pretending he’s just interested in him for sex, and thomas, who’s fully fucking in love and really bad at hiding it. these two idiots are now fake dating and lying to all their family and friends for the sake of alastair’s career.

bomb, meet lighter. things are about to go boom. i swear, this fic has everything i could cram into it.

angst: angsted.

pining: cranked to eleven.

domestic fluff: sweeter then marshmallows.

sex: hot and dirty as fuck.

welcome to my fucking disaster golden egg.

so far, it has over eighty thousand words and it’s not even fucking done yet.

also, i lowkey think it’s the best thing i’ve ever written and i’m hella excited to share it with you guys. i’m gonna stop typing now bc my thumbs hurt and kudos to you if you read this far. 😚 my current plan is to post the first chapter sometime around august, so get ready!

lots of love,

liza💖

#thomastair #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #tlh #tsc #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #fanfiction

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luciehercndale · 4 months

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That's What Candles Do / Thomastair

So here I am with a Thomastair Christmas drabble. Today I also wanted to be short and to the point and write something fluffy and cute to celebrate this season. More may follow, but tomorrow (because right now I'm tired lol). So enjoy <3

Rating: G Words: 489 Read on A03 💜

“Where did you say Cordelia got this candle?” Thomas wondered, a mixture of pine and something else – maybe cinnamon – hitting his nostrils after the wick started to burn.

“Amsterdam, I think,” Alastair scrunched his nose. “I am not sure I like this smell.”

“It’s bittersweet,” he admitted. “But it’s growing on me. Perhaps it will grow on you too.”

Alastair shrugged from his armchair, and glanced at the cream colored scented candle sitting on the wooden table that separated him from Thomas’ armchair.

“Perhaps,” he said. “At least I remembered to light it. Last time Cordelia was here, she ordered me to use this damn candle around this time. She said this is the scent of Christmas, but I beg to differ.”

“Did she?” Thomas chuckled. At that, Alastair rolled his eyes. “Well, it is a gift. Of course, she wants you to use it. Gifts are not meant to be sitting on the mantle and gathering dust.”

“We’re talking about a candle, Tom,” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s what candles do.”

Thomas sighed. “Yes, but this is a scented candle. Keyword being scented. It’s meant to spread its fragrance throughout its surroundings. Look at the soft atmosphere it gives this room,” he gestured at the walls with his hand. “Isn’t the perfect Christmas setting?”

“It just makes it impossible for me to enjoy the newspaper with such bad lightning,” he complained, putting the paper aside.

Thomas shook his head and stood up, something caught his attention behind the window.

“It’s snowing.”

“Is it, now? Must’ve been the power of the candle,” he joked.

“Come here to see,” Thomas demanded. “It’s picking up. It’s the first real snow of the season.”

Alastair rose from his chair and reached his partner. “You were not exaggerating,” he commented. “That’s really a lot of snow. Just in time for Christmas.”

“I thought you didn’t care about Christmas,” Thomas retorted.

“Why would I have put some mistletoe above the window, if I didn’t?”

Thomas frowned, and looked up. “When did you put this here? I didn’t see it.”

“This morning when you were away with your father,” he confessed. “And you can blame the candle and the bad lightning for your poor sight.”

“Would you please leave the poor candle alone?”

Alastair giggled, putting one of his hands behind Thomas’ back. “Only if you give me a kiss. We’re under the mistletoe, after all. And there’s this hint of winter in the air thanks to the candle. The snow is falling outside our window. And I’m in your arms.”

“I’ll give you more than one kiss,” he leaned closer, one hand resting behind Alastair’s neck, the other on his hip. “I have to make up for my bad sight.”

“Shut up, Thomas,” Alastair said playfully, just as the grandfather clock on the wall struck midnight. “And Merry Christmas.” He dragged him by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

***

Notes: I don't know why but I feel like Cordelia would be the type to gift a scented candle??? In my mind, she got that candle in Amsterdam during her travel year with James. She wanted to contribute to Alastair and Thomas' house with something they could put on the mantle or use (because candles are soothing and give the right atmosphere). Alastair probably thinks candles are overrated because of electricity, but they are still useful.

#tsc #tlh #thomastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #tsc fanfiction #the last hours #tweety.writes #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #the shadowhunter chronicles

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vashs-posts · 2 years

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An afternoon in the lab

hi!! this is the first fan fiction I have written. Do give me feedback if you read this. Do tell me if I have grammatical errors too since English isn't my first language

characters: Grace Blackthorn and Christopher lightwood from The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

----------------------------------------------

Christopher rarely felt this energised after a session of training. Usually, it exhausted him quite a bit, as he wasn’t the fit sort. But this day, kit was really excited- as he finally had a sample of ichor from an iadelon demon and he wanted to run some tests on it.

He skipped towards the winding stairs that led to uncle Henry’s laboratory when he heard aunt charlotte call out “kit is that you?” from the other room.

“Yes aunt charlotte it’s me” he replied cheerily.

“alright then, Henry and I are leaving for an enclave meeting, try not to blow anything up this time” she told him kindly.

“yeah thank you- I’ll try not to aunt charlotte” he replied with a smile to himself. He really liked aunt charlotte. One because she let him dally about her house whenever he pleased to the point of allowing him to use Matthew's room as a resting place, and two- she never objected to his curiosity and interest in science- as long as he didn’t blow up the place; which he, unfortunately, did a lot. He liked how she always encouraged uncle Henry’s genius pursuits.

As he climbed the stairs he thought that although a partner's encouragement in the sciences was always good, he always craved for his partner in life to be his partner in science too. Like Marie and Pierre Curie. His mind shifted to grace blackthorn, which he thought was odd since they weren’t very well acquainted. He suspected that she was interested in science like he was. perhaps he should ask her to be his lab partner? But he didn't know if she would agree to that, after all, she used to be close to James- and James never had a keen interest in kit’s many experiments. Besides, he thought, she must have been going through a lot. He knew that her mother had been sent to the citadel and that she probably was in no headspace to be courted- not that kit was good at courting girls in the first place. Kit barely knew how to talk to people, let alone court them.

as he reached the bottom of the staircase he turned to enter the laboratory when he saw a shadow sitting near the Venturi meters. The figure was familiar- short frame, and hair the colour of platinum which glowed like the moon. He saw that she was staring at the ticking pendulum of the grand clock across the lab from her. She looked like she had been crying

He quickly hid behind the door. Did him thinking about her bring her to the lab? He had read a few books on psychic abilities, was that what was happening? “No,” he thought, those claims didn’t have sufficient scientific backing. Then what was grace doing here? And why had she been crying?

—

Grace has no idea why she asked for the carriage to go to James’s Parabatai’s place. She still had no idea why, as she slipped into the back entrance and went to the lab. James had to leave with his family to search for Lucy, so he had let her leave Curzon street on the condition that they would report everything to the clave when he got back. After that, she made her way back to the Bridgestock’s residence. Now it was a few days later, and Grace was at the consul's house.

But she hadn’t gone there to see Ms Fairchild, she was sure of it. She entered the laboratory and sat directly across the vast wooden clock. Its steady ticks rang across the room. Tick-tock. Tick tock.

As if on cue, tears slipped from her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying, or rather for what exact thing-out of everything- in particular she was crying about. Her mother always told her she was a stupid, weak child, and now she was crying like one.

She heard the door swing open slowly and quickly rubbed off her tears and straightened her skirts. it was Christopher. He looked at her curiosity with his beautiful violet eyes. He looked concerned. He was gnawing at his lip and was restlessly pushing the door open.

“Er- grace is that you?” he said softly.

Why had she come here? How could she explain this to him? He probably thought that she had lost her mind.

“Christopher! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right away if you’re busy- I was passing by and er- I wanted something from you- um do you have any dried lavender extract?”

Dried lavender extract? she thought cringing a little bit at his puzzled expression. Surely he knew that she could make it from the Bridgestock gardens and didn’t have to come all the way here for it. But she couldn’t help it, lavender was the first thing she thought of after seeing those bright eyes of his.

“yeah! yeah- I could give that to you by tomorrow!” he said brightly.

“Thank you, Christopher,” grace said. She could feel her cheeks hot with embarrassment as he stared at her with a small smile. The ticks of the clock were louder than ever now. She turned to look at it, to avoid making a bigger fool of herself.

“I always liked the way clocks ticked. Like with a steady frequency, you know?” Christopher told her, breaking the silence. Then he started tapping the table with his long scarred finger and matched the frequency to the clock. She didn’t know why, but she started tapping to it too.

“Ah! Look we’re in resonance!” He said and beamed at her. Then he looked away a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, this might be a little uninteresting to you” he said shyly.

“No! It’s not” she said, adding “I read somewhere that resonance is when the amplitude increases because of matching frequencies. The book said that with very loud sounds- you could break windows. Is that true?”

Christopher stared at her. and then he smiled his perfect, cat like smile.

“maybe, I’ve never tried it! We ought to try it sometime don’t you think? I mean I don’t think aunt charlotte would appreciate that too much because the windows might break- but what is that small damage in the grand scheme of things?” He told her excitedly.

“Anyways, I wanted to run some tests on iadelon ichor. Er-if you’re not occupied elsewhere, would you like to help me?” He asked, as his fingers fluttered a little in his pocket.

Grace liked how Christopher didn’t think she was uneducated just because she was a woman. She liked how he viewed her as an equal. And somehow he made her forget all of her worries.

“Sure.” Said grace “as long as I get to blow some things up.- if it comes to it!”

and Christopher beamed at her again, brighter than the unusual London summer rays falling in through the window that day

And slowly they fell into a routine. Both of them took turns running the experiments, with matching goggles and smocks to protect their eyes and clothes. Grace ran some preliminary tests, while kit scratched away in his books. A couple of times the samples of ichor boiled out of the test tube, or exploded into a huge fire- but overall the tests went rather smoothly.

Kit found that he worked well with Grace, and she was extremely smart too. When the ichor reacted with concentrated sulphuric acid, it had become a huge fire- and he and Grace had to put it out quickly before it burnt them and the lab. He had looked worriedly at Grace then, to see that she was smiling- and then they both were smiling and giggling over their blunder.

He liked her company, he liked how she chewed the back of her pen as she took down the observations, or how she furrowed her brow while calculating the density of the ichor.

By the time they both were done, the clock chimed to indicate that it was 3:30pm. Grace looked at him with a small smile. “Do you want to go out into the garden for a while? I don’t think this much time with ichor is good for us” she said

“Yeah sure!” he told her as he followed her into the garden. A few silver strands of hair had escaped her bun and he had the urge to put it back in place. he didn’t know why he had that urge. Her hair was beautiful, as the rest of her was. She was more beautiful in her smock and goggles too. Kit never understood fashion, but right now it confused him the most. Why wear expensive dresses when you were beautiful in anything? He was suddenly self-conscious about his rattled appearance and stained clothes.

They had reached the garden. Aunt charlotte’s cook had laid out tea for them after seeing them. The birds were fluttering, and the Sun-rays were falling on Grace’s small face. Her hair was reflecting some of the light- and she looked radiant.

“Do you know why the sky is blue?” she asked him. He did know, but he wanted her to keep talking, so he didn’t respond.

“It’s because of Raleigh’s scattering. the light of colours with a wavelength less than blue gets scattered off, while the blue light passes though” she said and looked at him. “Interesting isn’t it?”

“It is interesting.” He told her and leaned back against the chair to look up at the sky. all this talk about wavelength and frequency made kit’s mind wander to all the books and papers he had read about them. He and uncle Henry had spent so much time on documents about light and energy, and he knew many things about frequencies and wavelengths. But the fact that was the most obvious of all, was that Grace Blackthorn for some odd reason matched his frequency perfectly. They were the perfect resonance.

he suddenly sat up. She was steering sugar in her tea and looking at him with a half-smile. He picked up his teacup too and asked her

“Have you heard of the Curies?”

-----------------------------

by vash

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streettealee · 10 months

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A TLH Fanfic

‘there's a definite horror vibe to it. sort of old-fashioned dracula-style gothic horror. and this sort of . . . the only way i can describe it is like a dangerous carnival, all sharp and bright and cold and glittering. but there's also a definite warm christmas-movie sort of vibe going on in there among all that. and some hints here and there of old, classic theatre stage-play vibes.’

@thevagabondexpress on Wasting Beats In This Heart Of MIne.

Read on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/42234207/chapters/106041132

#wbithom #wasting beats in this heart of mine #tlh #tlh fanfic #tlh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #gothic horror #christmas #time travel #dimensions #romance #tragedy #ao3 #ao3 author

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heronchildlove · 1 year

Note

Would it be wrong to ask for a rewrite of the ending of the scene at the Shadowmarket where James and Matthew aren’t interrupted and get to actually talk to each other?

It’s never wrong to wish for these two idiots to COMMUNICATE, nonnie, be sure of that xD I’m putting this prompt together with another one I got that just asked for hurt/comfort and for them to hug it out. Hope you both like it!

~~//~~

Matthew turned then, raising his arm—James stepped forward, but Matthew had already violently slammed the bottle against the brick wall. Glass sprayed in all directions; Matthew flinched back. A flying bit of glass had scratched his face, just beneath his eye. He wiped at the blood on his face and said, “I don’t want to see you ruin your life. But if you don’t love Cordelia, you should let someone else love her.”

“I could hardly stop them, could I?” said James. “Now let me see your hand—Matthew—”

“No.” Matthew raised his hand between them, keeping James away. His heart sank. They were no more than a few inches a part in the narrow alley, but a chasm had opened between them with just a single word. One syllable. Two letters. And James’ whole world started falling apart.

“Math-”

“Don’t you ‘Math’ me, not after what you have just said. If there’s anyone I love more than that bottle... How could, how could even you ask me that?”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Because the answer is you, James. You are the person I love most, more than anything in the world. I am your parabatai, how could you not know that?”

“I do, Math, I know, I just-” He tried reaching out to Matthew again, but again he stepped away from him, pressed his back against the brick wall, not even caring the splash from the wine bottle was soaking his coat. Matthew’s eyes were completely clear now, and focused on him, so James could plainly see the hurt in them like he hadn’t in a long time. All his temper had left him, and only regret stayed in its place, as always. He swallowed.

“Do you, Jamie? Because through all these years I have loved you - we all - have loved you. And have only gotten half of you in return, at most. The only person you have thought about, that you have seen, in years, has been Grace Blackthorn. And that’s not love, Jamie, that’s obsession. That’s a sickness that has lodged itself in your heart and you have refused all treatments to get rid of it. I’m the one that drinks, but you are the one whose eyes haven’t been clear in years. What hold does Grace have on you that she is more important to you than anything else in your life? Why do you worship her so?”

“I don’t know!” The confession burst out of his chest, and it startled both of them. James’ wrist seemed to be freezing and burning at the same time. His head was pounding. But the words were like a liberation, and once he had started he found himself unable to stop. “When I try to think of it, nothing comes to my mind. A part of me barely knows why she has such a hold on me, but the other part won’t even allow me to think of that, because of course she should have a hold of me, of course I love her, but do I? How? Why? I don’t know, Matthew, and it scares the hell out of me. What if it’s an obsession, like you say? An illness? How do I rid myself of it?”

Matthew let out a joyless laugh, and motioned at the glass shards and the wine tainting the snow under his feet. “I don’t think... I am the best person to be asked about how to get rid of an illness that consumes you.” He said, the closest James had ever come to hearing Matthew admit he had a problem. “It seems like... we cling to them because they are the only things keeping us from having to face something worse. What are you afraid to face, Jamie? I can help you.”

“And I you. Math. I will ask you once again what is the shadow that hangs over you. I can no longer turn into a shadow, but I’ll still fight them for you, anything for you to return to your true self.”

Matthew closed his eyes in pain, breath coming ragged. “I can’t, Jamie. If I tell you, you’ll hate me. And it might be selfish of me, but I can’t bear that.”

“I could never hate you, Math. Even if you told me you have been conspiring with Belial this whole time, or that it was you that left chocolate marks all over my book of the Three Musketeers five years ago. I don’t hold grudges.”

“As I reckon, I’ve already told you it was a goblin that dirtied your book. It hurts me that you don’t believe me.”

James raised an eyebrow, but all he said was: “I am cursed. Belial has proved what I have always feared, that I will bring blight and pain on whomever loves me. Grace has always known that, and she loves me anyway, and I’m afraid if I don’t have her, then I will never have anyone else.”

Matthew huffed and passed a hand through his hair.

“I suppose I can understand the sentiment, but there are a few flaws in your argument: One: you are not cursed, you are a delight. Two: all you bring us is happiness and strength. And three: as I already stated, I love you. And Lucie and your parents love you. And Tom and Kit. And Cordelia, she truly loves you, even if you are too idiot to see it. So even without Grace, you are not short of people that love you now or that will love you in the future, you buffoon.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be comforting me? I am sharing my innermost feelings with you, Matthew, that’s very hurtful.”

Mathew laughed at the throwback to their first real talk at the Academy. A true laugh, like James hadn’t heard in a long time, and it made him laugh, too.

“I suppose it is not rational, but feelings rarely are. I’m sorry I’ve been so blind and hurtful, I’ll try to keep this in mind and get better.”

“It’s okay, Jamie. Sorry I snapped at you.”

He tried for a hug, but this time it was James that raised his hand and stopped him.

“What?”

“Your turn, Math.”

“Fine, it was me that left chocolate marks in your book, I’m sorry, Jamie.”

“Math...”

“I do not remember having agreed to to any sort of mutual sharing, you unburdened yourself all on your own.”

“I let you help me, now let me help you.”

Once again, Matthew had closed his eyes in pain, and it made a certain panic rise up in James. What could be so bad that just the idea of it scared Matthew so much?

“You don’t know what you are asking for, Jamie.”

“I will after you tell me.”

“I can’t...”

“I promise whatever it is-”

“I am a murderer!”

Whatever James had been expecting, it was certainly not that. It was good Matthew kept his eyes closed, because he was sure he hadn’t been able to school his expression fast enough.

“...I don’t understand.”

“Before anything else, I am a fool. I never believed I belonged in my family, and I couldn’t pinpoint why, until... someone told me I was a bastard, that I wasn’t my father’s son, and my whole family was lying to me, and I couldn’t shake it off. And everyone was acting so weird and keeping something from me and I didn’t know what and I was sure... I just wanted to know the truth at last, so I bought a truth potion, or, I was led to believe it was a truth potion, and I put a drop on my mother’s food, and then...”

James felt a chill run down his body. He had a feeling he knew where this story was going, and he had the urge to tell Matthew to stop, that he didn’t want to know after all, but he had to. He had to know Matthew’s sin so he could bear it together with him, so they could both finally start to heal.

“...And then my mother fell sick, and we, and we called Uncle Jem, but it was, it was not enough. And there was a baby, and the baby died, and it was all my fault, Jamie, it was me. I did that. And I can’t look them in the eyes ever since, and I can never think too much about it or it makes me want to die myself, so I don’t. I do everything, not to think about it, but I am a fool, and a coward, and murderer, and that’s the truth, Jamie, and you can punch me and give me to the clave now, or...”

And then Matthew had to stop talking, because James collided against him and hugged him so tight he took his breath away.

“Math, Mathew, listen to me, listen. You were just a child, you couldn’t have known. It was not your fault, it wasn’t. Mathew bach I’m so sorry you have been carrying this by yourself all this time but you don’t have to anymore, I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

There was a loud sob, and James didn’t know if it came from Matthew or himself or both. The tears were falling and they were both clinging to each other desperately and they were not, in any way, shape or form, okay.

But they were together, truly, for the first time. There were no secret shadows looming above them anymore, no hidden pain or false smiles, or blurred feelings smothered by a bottle or a flash of silver eyes. And hat was all they could ask for at the moment.

They were together, and they would remain together and things would, eventually, be okay.

And for now that was enough.

#heronchild #james herondale #Matthew Fairchild #tlh #the last hours #chain of iron #choi #coi #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #fanfiction #fix-it fic #nandawrites #canon rewrite #original #mine

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