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thousand-winters · 2 years

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Kiss the bruises til’ they’re gone

This was NOT the first thing I was intending to write for this fandom, but oh, well... sorry?

Read on AO3!

Relationships: Charles Fairchild/Alastair Carstairs. Thomastair, but not really, just a bit of longing.

CW: Unhealthy relationships, emotional manipulation, Charles Fairchild. Implied dubious consent (one line near the end)

Title’s from The cut that always bleeds by Conan Gray.

Walking away from Thomas had felt like the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, although logically he knew it was hardly so. Alastair hadn’t even been able to look him in the eyes, afraid that if he did, Thomas would see easily through his cold demeanor, see his uncertainty and his longing, the heartbreak of having to abandon the best thing that had happened to him in so long. But Thomas didn’t love him, what had happened between them in the Sanctuary had been born out of desperation, perhaps even out of some weird need to repay him for protecting him. Not that he thought that Thomas had kissed him out of pity, no, he knew his… little infatuation with him was genuine, at least, but it had been like Paris all over again; with no one else around, it was easy to indulge, surrounded by the fantasy of being the only two people in the world, to touch and to laugh freely, to make promises and even believe them. If he allowed this to continue, it wouldn’t be like that, he knew.

Paris.

He hadn’t lied; spending time with Thomas had truly been his favorite memory of the city. And now his sister had ran off there with Matthew Fairchild of all people. He had heard the story, of course, some nonsensical excuse about a honeymoon that James had been unable to attend because Lucie Herondale was currently missing, but he wasn’t stupid, no matter how close, one just doesn’t take his parabatai to his honeymoon. It was clear something else had happened, and the part of his mind that still had energy to spare was worried about his sister, she had seemed content enough on her marriage the last time he had seen her and he didn’t understand what could have happened for her to go on an impromptu vacation with Fairchild. He would have liked to at least go to Curzon Street and demand explanations from James, but not only the man was busy with the search for his sister, Alastair himself had other responsibilities in London and… and deep down he was also glad Layla wasn’t here at the moment.

He wouldn’t have been able to keep the truth from her for long. Ever since she had discovered the truth about their father, he felt unbalanced, as if the sudden weight lifted from his shoulders had left him scrambling and desperately trying not to fall. Ironically, the feeling was similar to, what he imagined, would be being tried by the Mortal Sword, as if every secret he ever had was ready to spill from his mouth if someone made the right questions.

But he couldn’t… he wouldn’t think any more of what had happened with Th… with Lightwood. He was too scared of what would happen if he looked back.

And now he stood before the door of the Fairchild’s residence, feeling a weird mix of numb and gloomy, as if something heavy had settled itself in his gut. He’d rather not be here, if he was being honest, but he’d promised… and one talk wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

He ringed the doorbell before he could change his mind, steeling himself for the first real conversation he had with Charles Fairchild in a while.

What he saw instead, when the door opened, was the curious face of Christopher Lightwood. The breath Alastair had been unconsciously holding until now came out sounding like a huff, while he blinked repeatedly, slightly taken aback.

It shouldn’t have been that surprising. It was fairly common knowledge that the youngest of the Lightwoods frequented the Fairchild residence to use their laboratory, but the possibility of him being there now hadn’t occurred to him, distracted as he was.

Christopher, to his credit, didn’t even look fazed by what surely must have seemed like a condescending gesture. “Oh, hullo, Alastair, you must be here to see Charles. I think he’s upstairs in his study.”

Right. They hadn’t really agreed on the moment in which their meeting would take place; perhaps he should count himself lucky that the other man was even home, even if he wasn’t feeling particularly fortunate.

“Truly, it would be a wonder for you to get lost, the house is not that big, but I can guide you if you want” Christopher offered, and Alastair realized he had been quiet for too long.

“That…” is alright, I can find my own way he was supposed to say, ”would be very kind of you” was what he said instead.

Christopher perked up slightly, as if he was pleased with Alastair’s answer, instead of having just offered out of politeness. Then again, he wouldn’t claim to understand how the younger’s mind worked.

“Great! It’s not hard, you just have to walk upstairs and the second door you’ll find at the right it’s his study. You’ll see.”

“You spend a lot of time here” Alastair felt the need to point out.

“Oh, yes. Henry doesn’t mind if I use the laboratory when he’s not here. But you knew that, right? You have come by before… although I suppose you haven’t these past months” Christopher shrugged, not noticing his companion’s frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Hm? I just don’t think I’ve seen you around lately, but I’m not here all the time either. It just seemed that way to me since you forgot where things were.”

“It’s been a while” Alastair agreed, relaxing once it was clear the other hadn’t mean anything more than the words themselves conveyed.

“In that case, you haven’t been to the laboratory either! I’ve been working on a faster way of communication for Shadowhunters” The younger man sounded proud, which was probably justified given that his brilliance had saved a lot of lives the past summer. No one could deny he had talent. “Would you like to hear about it?

“Sure” He said, feeling slightly perplexed, but certain of having said the right thing when Christopher smiled and immediately launched himself into an explanation about ‘fire messages’ and how they were supposed to work.

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but Christopher never seemed to hold the same resentment for him as his friends did. He didn’t try to dissuade them from insulting him, of course, but he never joined either. Moreover, he was the kind of person who didn’t hide behind a façade; whatever Christopher Lightwood meant was what he said.

It was oddly reassuring.

“It’s still not perfect, but the answer mustn’t be far. Perhaps later you would like to help us with it?” Christopher offered, and he sounded so casual about it that Alastair almost missed a step. “You were a great help with the mandikhor antidote, or so I heard anyway, but it seemed like…”

He didn’t intend to tune out the words after that, really, but he needed time to process Christopher’s unexpected friendliness. He could still hear him talking and knew he would feel guilty later if the other noticed, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. He knew expecting the Merry Thieves to forgive him was a hopeless cause, but until now, every time he thought about the issue was with Matthew’s scowl and James’s reproaches on mind. Someone else’s angry expression for a while. He had the sudden realization that perhaps the youngest between them was someone he could befriend.

This was unexpected. He couldn’t afford to hope, but what if… what if…

A figure appeared on the door to the basement and Alastair abruptly stopped walking, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

He thought he could hear a voice calling his name, but it wasn’t coming from the newcomer, whose lips – lips he had kissed, his mind reminded him helpfully– were closed on a tight line, longing and sorrow visible all over his face. Angel, everything was there on his eyes, for everyone to see, how had this man managed to keep his feelings a secret for so long? He wanted to go there and tell him to stop looking at him like that, like he was seeing something precious and lost, like he would like nothing more than to close the distance between them and touch him again, like he had just a week before.

Alastair felt his hands twitching with the phantom memory of warm skin and strong muscles before he realized he had been staring, mostly because Lightwood –but not the right Lightwood– had touched his arm gently, now looking at him with the eyes of someone who is trying to work out a puzzle but still hasn’t been able to align enough pieces for it to make sense. “Is something the matter? What is…? Oh, Thomas! I was just asking Alastair if later he would like to-“

“Alastair.”

He flinched and instinctively took a step away from the cousins. Nothing of what was happening granted that reaction from him, he knew, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, and whoever he talked to was his business alone. But it had felt like the adequate response and besides, he felt slightly guilty for forgetting even for a moment what he had come for. Or rather, whom he had come for.

Charles Fairchild was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at the scene with calculating eyes. Whatever it was that he saw made him frown.

“Alastair,” he repeated. “I’m glad to see you arrived safely. Come, we have so much to discuss. We’d like to have no interruptions, if you two don’t mind” he added, with a tone that indicated it wasn’t really a suggestion, and Alastair thought he saw his gaze lingering a second too long on the Lightwood standing on the basement door just before he turned around and started walking.

He took just enough time to nod in the cousins’ general direction before following Charles, not daring to look back and see the look on their faces.

He was surprised to discover Charles had led him to his room rather than his study. The feeling of heaviness returned to his gut as he told himself it didn’t matter; they would have the same amount of privacy either way, and perhaps the other simply wanted to be more comfortable. While he no longer needed bedrest, it was possible his recent injuries were still bothering him.

“You shouldn’t bother with whatever childish nonsense they’re playing at this time” said Charles with a scoff, taking a seat on the bed and making a gesture towards the free space beside him. Alastair didn’t point out how their ‘nonsense’ had saved people’s lives before. “You would think that by now they would be taking their duties more seriously, especially since-“

“What do you want, Charles?” He had meant for the question to come out harsher than it did, but he was already feeling weary. He didn’t need to hear all the reasons why he shouldn’t want to be down there, in the basement, instead of here.

The older man looked momentarily displeased at the interruption, but it faded into hurt so fast that he thought it might have been his own imagination.

“I… I just wanted to see you, Alastair, is that truly so wrong?” Charles’s eyes were pleading, in the same way they had been in the infirmary of the Institute. He had grabbed his hand back then, asking him to stay and sounding so desperate and miserable that Alastair had been stunned into silent compliance, unable to find the strength to yank his hand from the other’s hold. I thought I was dying, he had said, and all I wanted was to see you one more time.

Alastair did his best to avoid his eyes this time, looking pointedly at the floor.

“Well, here I am. You’re seeing me.”

“Don’t be like that” A little annoyance had creeped into his tone. “Why are you still trying to make things harder than they have to be?”

“I’m not making anything harder. You still haven’t told me what you want from me.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I miss you. You keep running from me and I can’t handle it” Charles got up from the bed and extended a hand to touch his cheek, but Alastair took a step back.

“Have you forgotten already that you have a fiancée? I don’t believe Miss Blackthorn would be pleased to know what her betrothed is doing behind her back” Alastair was proud of how steady his voice sounded, even if he had to talk through clenched teeth to accomplish that.

An unexpected expression of contempt appeared on the other’s face.

“Of course, you wouldn’t have heard, not yet.”

“Heard of what? Speak clearly, Charles.”

“Grace Blackthorn is currently on the custody of the Silent Brothers.”

He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“What?”

“She confessed herself to having the power to bewitch any man she wants; she’ll remain on the Silent City until we know what to do with her” Charles scoffed. “Naturally, on light of this, our engagement is no more.”

He felt a little lightheaded. Charles was a lot of things, but he wasn’t foolish enough to make up something that big and ridiculous, something that could be disproved so easily if it were a lie. But if this was true, it meant that Charles… it meant… and Cordelia! She had spoken about her worries over James still having feelings for Grace Blackthorn, her eyes betraying more anxiety than he thought was warranted considering how attentive James had been with his sister since they had announced their engagement. What did this mean for them? Did this have anything to do with why his sister had fled from London without so much as a warning?

Layla, what aren’t you telling me?

“Don’t you understand, Alastair? I never meant to leave you.” The other man continued, and he didn’t have enough presence of mind at the moment to remind him of who had left whom “Or Ariadne, for that matter. It was all the Blackthorn girl and her powers.”

“But you…” But you still did everything else of your own volition, he wanted to say, she didn’t force you to lie to me or to treat me like a shameful secret, this doesn’t change anything. The words felt stuck on his throat, perhaps due to his lack of conviction.

“Yes, exactly!” Charles smiled, as if his hesitance had been just what he was hoping to hear. “You know I would have never done anything to risk this, to risk us otherwise.”

“That... doesn’t make any sense,” a vindictive part of him relished on how quickly Charles’s smile faded from his face. “Even if what you say is true, that doesn’t mean we are still… together. Our arrangement is over; it has been for a while, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” The irritated tone of the question suggested he was explaining something that should have been obvious.

“I heard you perfectly well, but I’m not willing to be your little secret any longer while you parade around with your new fiancée.”

“Well, I’m not engaged to anyone right now, am I?”

“But you will be!” Alastair tightened his hands into fists to avoid messing up his hair out of frustration. He had to look composed even if he didn’t feel it. “As soon as you find someone willing to play in your charade. Or even if you don’t, you would lie to them, like you lied to me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Alastair, I was never dishonest. You know I was doing it for you, for us, so we could be together.”

“How is getting married to someone you don’t love supposed to help?” He asked through his teeth. But he didn’t wait for an answer, they’d had this conversation enough times in the past that he knew it would be a losing battle. “I told you, you can do whatever you wish to, but I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“Well, what you want doesn’t matter!” Charles snapped at him and the harshness of his tone made him freeze. “You have to stop being so naïve, Alastair. No man will be willing to be seen with you in public like that; you have to understand the position you are in. No one can give you what you want. No one will want to.”

Alastair wanted to retort; Anna Lightwood certainly didn’t give a damn about being seen with other women, neither did Charles’s own brother seemed to care if there were rumors about him being involved with men. It wasn’t impossible, he knew that. He could prove Charles wrong, but the only thing his body seemed able to do at the moment was shiver.

The green eyes focused on him softened.

“Are you cold?” The other asked, anger apparently gone from his voice, already crossing the remaining space between them to envelop him with his arms, without stopping to think that maybe his touch wasn’t wanted. Then again, he had been clear on what he thought about what Alastair wanted.

There was a dazed nod, not because it was necessarily the truth, but because Alastair’s throat felt too constricted to speak, and he was unsure of how to express his conflicting emotions without saying a word. Not that the redhead would listen if he tried, but he supposed this wasn’t so bad… right? Perhaps this was alright. The Lightwoods were downstairs and Charles hadn’t hesitated to embrace him after all; was it his recent encounter with death what had made him temporally bolder? Or was he telling the truth? Charles had always been so full of promises and he kept so few of them, but… but he was holding him now. That had to count for something, right?

“You know the only chance there is for us is this. You might not understand yet, you don’t know the Clave like I do. But you just have to trust me.”

The hug was warm, and Alastair closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the brief feeling of comfort, even if the grasp was starting to be on the wrong side of tight, but surely that was just regret over their disagreement. The way Charles just held on tighter when he squirmed a little was surely because he was trying to keep him warm, he wasn’t trying to make the embrace feel like a cage.

His own explanations weren’t as reassuring as he hoped, and Alastair’s heart was beating faster now. A growing part of him wanted to break away and put as much distance as possible between them, but Charles chose that moment to mercifully let him go, only keeping his hold on the younger man’s arms.

“I’m so glad you are here” He said, and his face got inches away before Alastair actually pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” His voice trembled, and he felt stupid for feeling afraid. He wasn’t a child.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Charles asked, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t say I was okay with you kissing me.”

“You never refused before.”

“Yes, before“ He emphasized rather weakly, trying his hardest to not falter under Charles’s piercing gaze. He couldn’t do this. “I think we’re done here. I’m not repeating myself; you already know how I feel.”

He turned around, fully intending to go downstairs, to go back home, or to the basement with the Lightwoods. He needed to get out of here, but a hand caught his arm and yanked him back.

“Don’t turn your back on me again, Alastair” He was now looking directly at frowning green eyes, too close for comfort. “It’s obvious you’ve missed me too.”

“I haven’t missed you at all” It was the truth. But then why did it sound like a lie even to his own ears?

Charles obviously shared the same opinion, because he snorted.

“Don’t expect me to believe that.”

And there was suddenly a hand caressing his cheek. It didn’t actually feel comforting. But it was warm enough.

“It’s alright, Alastair.”

“I-I don’t understand” He admitted shakily, and in the fear he could still hear in his own voice he thought he could see the naïve child that Charles seemed to see every time he looked at him.

“You don’t have to understand. I’m here.”

There were arms around him again. A warm breath on his ear that made him shiver again. A whisper.

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

His armor was crumbling. It had already been cracked, but there was nothing he could do now to mend the pieces.

“What are you asking of me, Charles?” He asked softly, defeated.

He could almost feel the smirk on his neck.

“I’m just asking for you” And the answer sounded so painfully simple. He didn’t have anything to offer but himself, after all. “Will you stay with me?”

Alastair closed his eyes.

There were so many reasons to refuse.

He couldn’t remember a single one.

“I will”.

This time, when Charles went to kiss him, he did nothing to stop it. He didn’t protest when he was guided to the bed. Whatever shadow of warmth there was there to take, he took. He was tired of fighting. Yet… there was a part of his mind that was still muttering a name, a naïve plea for safety. Softly, like a caress. Thomas. He drowned it too, along with the guilt and the fear.

And he gave in.

#posting this and running away because I refuse to face my crimes against humanity. and alastair specifically #alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #anti charles fairchild #do they have a paired name?#charlastair #maybe?#christopher lightwood #thomas lightwood #the last hours #tlh #my writing #chain of iron #teeechnically #listen I still don't know how to properly tag

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

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champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years

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Hmm dani.

Unpopular opinion here

I don’t like tlh that much??

I mean I like it… I just feel like there are a lot of characters and a lot of subplots and I know they’re like her best ones or whatever and the earlier ones have loads of problems but TID and TMI gang are my faves and I think I just find most of the TLH characters annoying

I like Anna and I like Christopher but the rest really irritate me 😂 Lucie is cool but she’s too crazy and it’s annoying cos I’m just like LUCIE ITS NOT THAT HARD JUST DONT DO NECROMANCY!

I’m a very ‘things need to be done in the right way and the right way is my way’ kind of person, and I know they all do crazy shit in all the other books but for some reason it just bothers me more 😂

I like Grace cos she has depth, Anna cos she’s an outsider and does her own thing, likes her own space, Matthew is cool but he’s also annoying because he’s crappy at communication

Idk I did enjoy reading them, but not as much as the other books -which I’ve read all of them at least twice since August 2019

Also even more unpopular opinion 😬

I don’t like thomastair 😭🙈

When I read them I did like it I thought they were cool, but I thought the fandom ruined it? I mean each to their own, but there’s so much thomastair content and I’m more interested in other ships/series

So I think I like canon thomastair but not fandom thomastair, I think a lot of the fan fics abt them could be done for other ships

I also have that thing where I like something cos I think it’s cool and then loads of people get invested and then I’m like wait no it’s not cool anymore 😭

E.g. Draco Malloy, I used to think he was a cool character, then EVERYONE got obsessed with him and Drarry and Dramione and I was like whoaaa no

Anyway yeah 🙈 don’t hate me please 🙈

TLH is actually my least favorite tsc series. It's not bad at all. It's just not my thing for some reason. I like reading it, but I didn't and I don't enjoy it as much I did with the others.

I really like Thomastair. But everyone else is a bit meh to me (I love them but I just don't get invested in them much idk why sigh)

I know the TLH fandom is huge. So, it's still so nice to see people loving it and hyping it! And the representation in this book is much better (could be even better of course) than others.

I am actually on the same boat with you - so let's sail together on this one ;)

#tsc

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kazledazzel · 3 years

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Hi! I was wondering, for the au + trope + prompt game: can I request the Merry thieves in the hogwarts au? I can totally see them as marauders! Maybe prompt 23? but honestly any one of them would be cool 💕💕💕

Thank you for the prompt! I hope you like this. I tried to stick to the Merry Thieves as much as I could, but I did end up wandering to Thomastair... so I’m sorry about that, but I have been wanting to do a Shadowhunters Hogwarts Au for ages, so I plan to do a series of one shots for this au. (I want to do more Thomastair, Blackdale, The Merry Thieves, Gracetopher, etc...). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I have a part two of this if anyone is interested.

Click here to read on Ao3 or keep reading below :)

“Are you sure this is legal?” Thomas asked, peering down at the quidditch field from where he sat on the bleachers next to James Herondale. The two gryffindors sat together, supervising the other half of the friend group.

The pitch was empty, and the group had taken this opportunity to sneak down and test out Matthew’s new broom. Matthew Fairchild was a Slytherin who was as ambitious as he was cunning, and had jumped at the opportunity for a better broom. His old one, though a cleverly crafted broom made by Matthew’s father, had suffered a rather disastrous encounter with Alastair Carstairs, and was long in the bin. It had just so happened that Christopher had been in the process of making a broom, better than any Nimbus or Firebolt. He had accomplished one of his lifelong goals; to combine magic, science and mechanics.

Only Thomas seemed to be worried about this experiment. He was proud of his cousin, but there was often a thin line between success and disaster when it came to Christopher’s inventions. However, Christopher did seem utterly and completely focused on his latest invention. He was so lost in his work, he seemed to have failed to noticed that he was wearing the wrong tie. Grace Blackthorn was probably in the castle somewhere, searching her room for a green tie and instead finding a Ravenclaw blue one.

“I am sure-,” Matthew started, giving Thomas false hope. “- that what the Ministry of Magic doesn't know won't kill them,”

Thomas frowned. He turned to James for backup, but he had his head in his book. Thomas scowled, and returned to his babysitting.

“It’s almost done,” Christopher said, raising his voice loud enough so that both guys on the bleachers could here. He raised his wand and cast a silent charm. He cleared his throat. “Matthew and Gentlemen-,”

“Kit!” Matthew demanded. “Are you implying that I do not qualify as a gentleman?”

Christopher shrugged, but James took this opportunity to poke at his best friend.

“Anna told me otherwise,” James called down. “Did you or did you not have a rather scandalous encounter with a Hufflepuff prefect last week?”

“Hufflepuff? Alastair Carstairs’ house? Really, Jamie? I would never,” Matthew lowered his voice. “It was a Ravenclaw,”

James laughed, while Thomas only smiled. Although the situation was funny, he was getting rather tired of Matthew’s hatred for Alastair Carstairs. Was all this nonsense really over a broken broom, or did it run deeper? Thomas didn’t know, but he needed an explanation before he could hate Alastair Carstairs. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as James and Matthew thought.

Then again, maybe Thomas was just being silly. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit that he had strong feelings for Alastair Carstairs. Strong feelings that caused great confusion, and Thomas couldn’t tell if those strong feelings were born out of love or hate. He’d thought about talking about it with Christopher, but Kit hadn’t really picked up on the fact that Thomas may lean more towards boy, nor the fact that his science goggles were upside down. God bless Christopher and his obliviousness.

Then again, Christopher may have been oblivious, but he wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was one of the smartest people Thomas knew. The sorting hat had known it when placing him in Ravenclaw, and even the Slytherin prefect Grace Blackthorn had known it. Not only did Grace seem to be aware of Christopher’s genius, she seemed to be falling in love with it. Grace Blackthorn, who was so set on maintaining her reputation of being sensible and too mature for love in all its silliness, had fallen for a softie like Christopher. Thomas often found it funny; plenty of quidditch stars from all the different houses fancied Grace Blackthorn, but she was too busy looking at Christopher with cartoon hearts in her eyes to notice.

Thomas was constantly seeing romantic love. He saw it every time Cordelia Carstairs had walked past, making James blush red like a tomato and leaving him stutter for five minutes as he tried to remember his own name. He saw it every time he went looking for Lucie only to find her writing her manuscript with I heart Jesse Blackthorn and Lucie Blackthorn written around the edges. He saw it most of all in the way Anna and Ariadne talked about each other. Thomas was constantly surrounded by his friends and their lovesick hearts, and yet he couldn’t figure out his own.

“James, and Matthew,” Thomas said, glaring at both boys harmlessly. “Let Kit finish,”

“Thank you, Thomas” Christopher began again. “As I was saying, I present to you all, The Lightwood Flamethrower,”

James chuckled softly. “Lightwood. I get it. Light-wood. Brooms are made from wood,”

The rest of the group turned to look at James, who was slowly realising the obvious. He slouched, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.

“Come on then. Let’s try it out!” Christopher said enthusiastically, gesturing for Matthew to get on the broom. He rambled on excitedly. “It should go faster than any Nimbus or even Fire Bolt, and it has a spacial awareness feature so that you’ll be able to tell if there are any bludgers coming your way. It started producing sparks last night, but that probably won’t happen anymore-,”

“Probably?” Thomas asked worriedly. “Have you ran any safety tests?”

Matthew grinned with bright green eyes. “What do you think we’re doing now?” He began to mount the broom, and Thomas felt he might go into cardiac arrest. Matthew picked up a helmet and put it on his head. “Besides, I’m wearing a helmet,”

“That’s great Math, but you haven’t strapped it on right,” James pointed out.

“Oh dear god,” Thomas said, exasperated. He buried his face in his hands, while James patted his shoulder.

“Don’t look now,” James said, his voice low. Thomas heard Matthew give an annoyed groan, and he looked up from his depressed state. He spotted the cause of Matthew’s annoyance right away.

At the entrance of the quidditch pitch was the entire Hufflepuff team. Leading the team was Cordelia Carstairs, in full quidditch gear and carrying her broom, the Cortana two thousand, as if it were a mighty gold sword. To be fair, it was the greatest broom one could buy. They were extremely rare, and had been discontinued. Thomas recalled how Christopher hadn’t compared his own broom to Cordelia’s. The Cortana two thousand was faster than any other broom, and could change direction easier than even a Fire Bolt. With Cordelia as their Captain, Hufflepuff was a hard team for any house to beat. It didn’t matter if the weather was against them, Cordelia flourished in rain, hail, sleet and snow.

Next to Cordelia was Lucie, who stuck out like a sore thumb in her Ravenclaw robes. She didn’t really need to be there, but she often went along anyways to support Cordelia.

“And to look at Jesse Blackthorn,” James had once said to her, with both the disapproval of a protective older brother and with the satisfaction of teasing on a sibling.

“Very funny, Jamie. How long did it take for you to form a full sentence the last time Cordelia spoke to you?” Lucie has snapped back, while Matthew burst out laughing.

Alastair Carstairs wasn’t far behind his sister. Being the older sibling, some might have thought Alastair would be annoyed that the position went to his younger sibling. If he was, he didn’t seem it. He seemed perfecting content being Head Boy. Not that Thomas payed much attention to Alastair’s behaviour, or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the way he-

“I’m going to do it,” James whispered to Thomas, interrupting his thoughts. James closed his book and practically bounced out of his siting position. “I’m finally going to talk to Cordelia Carstairs,”

“Okay, Jamie,” Thomas said, standing up and following his friend down the bleachers. “Just remember that your name is James Herondale, not-,” Thomas made a series of spluttering noises. James blushed.

“What’s all this about, Carstairs?” Matthew demanded, glaring at Alastair. Cordelia didn’t seem to realise the question wasn’t directed at her. She seemed a little hurt.

“Quidditch practice,” Cordelia replied, eyebrows raised. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Oh, sorry, I-,”

Cordelia had her head held high as Matthew struggled to explain he was speaking to her brother. Alastair looked amused, as Thomas tried to rip his gaze away from him. He often found it amusing how Matthew could hate one Carstairs so much, and be fighting with his best friend over the attention of the other.

By now James was my Matthew’s side, and had gained a new confidence from Matthew’s humiliation.

“That wasn’t very nice, Matthew,” James gloated. He was looking at Cordelia hopefully. Cordelia broke away her gaze, and Thomas could see the scarlet colour against her brown skin. Cordelia Carstairs was blushing over James Herondale.

Maybe Thomas wasn’t as fluent in love as he thought he was.

“We booked the pitch,” Alastair said, moving to his sisters side. Matthew seemed to have forgotten his desire for Cordelia immediately, and was now looking at Alastair as if he was the Devil himself coming to drag Matthew back to Hell with him. Not that Cordelia noticed. She and James were both stealing glances and giving each other soppy looks. It truly was a wonder that they didn’t know their love was requited. Lucie was making her way towards Thomas and beaming. No doubt she was about to write James into her newest chapter of the Beautiful Cordelia.

“It’s true,” Lucie said, rolling her eyes at Matthew and Alastair’s petty feud. Her and Thomas had discussed it often, but neither of them knew the root of the rivalry other than the fact that Alastair had once broken Matthew's broom after they both collided in a quidditch match, but that had been an accident. Perhaps their hatred had always been there, and this had just triggered it. Still, even that didn't add up. Matthew wasn't a hateful person. That was something all the Merry Thieves were aware off, especially James. All of Thomas' friends were like little lights in his life, and Matthew was sometimes the shiniest. Despite coming across as overly charismatic or vain, Matthew never failed to radiate what good was in him. He was constantly willing to be the guinea pig in Christopher's experiments, and never let his obvious crush on Cordelia get in the way of his friendship with James. Thomas sometimes wondered if James was even aware of Matthew's feelings for Cordelia.

Then there was Alastair. Mysterious Alastair, whom Thomas had never cared for until his fourth year at Hogwarts. Up until then, Thomas had known nothing of the other boy save the fact that he was a fifth year Hufflepuff with a repuation, that his friends with Clive Cartwright and Charles Fairchild, Matthew's annoying older brother, and that he and his posse sometimes liked to pick on first years. It wasn't until that one day in Third Year, when James had been locked up in the infirmary with a broken leg and Thomas had been sent on the Honeydukes run while Christopher, Matthew, Lucie and Cordelia had stayed behind to keep James company that Thomas even spoke to Alastair. It had been snowing outside and it had been difficult for Thomas to see where he was going. He accidentally walked straight into Alastair as he entered the shop. Thomas had been almost terrified; Alastair had been so intimidating when he'd had his two friends by his side before. He hadn't seemed intimidating that day in Honeydukes, though. He'd seemed lonely, and as Thomas bent to help Alastair pick up his chocolate he could see that Alastair's dark brown eyes were brimmed with red. Sometimes people weren't scary; they were just sad.

Thomas, being Thomas, had asked the other boy if he was alright. Instead of brushing him off, Alastair had admitted he needed a bit of a distraction. This led to casual conversation, and eventually the two ended up chatting over chocolate cauldrons and fudge flies. They parted on friendly terms, and had a few encounters after. These encounters were a secret, of course, and mostly accidental. Still, Alastair seemed to enjoy Thomas' company. Thomas couldn't help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction every time Alastair laughed at something he said.

These accidental encounters became less frequent when Alastair and Charles became a couple. Thomas tried not to feel annoyed that he'd barely spoken to Alastar all year. It wasn't like he was in love with Alastar, was he? Besides, Alastair was a year older. There was no point in falling for someone who was going to leave Hogwarts in a year.

"We just wanted to try out Matthew's new broom," Thomas said, trying to avoid an argument. "We didn't realise the pitch was booked,"

"The Lightwood Flamethrower," Christopher said proudly. Cordelia's eyes widened slightly.

"Does it work?" Cordelia asked, making her way towards the broom. Alastair looked a little put off, but then his eyes met Thomas'. Thomas could have sworn that Alastair's expression softened.

"We don't know yet," James and Matthew said, simultaneously. Both boys blushed. Cordelia smiled.

"Well," Cordelia said, her smile radiant. "Shall we try it out and see?"

#asks #prompt #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #tlh #tsc #chain of gold #hogwarts au #fanfic #el writes #el writes fanfiction #thomastair #jordelia #blackdale #gracetopher #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs

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jewishjon · 4 years

Text

More Thomastair content from a 2018 q and a with Cassie!!

Alastair!! I feel so bad for him and that sounds so cool!! Plus, there’s his piano of course🥺

“The one person he does tell” ???? I need Thomas and Alastair to connect over music so bad

#chain of gold #the last hours #chain of iron #chain of thorns #chog #cog #cog2 #tlh #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood

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gay-little-fruit · 2 years

Text

I posted 19 times in 2021

3 posts created (16%)

16 posts reblogged (84%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 5.3 posts.

I added 68 tags in 2021

#rbed - 14 posts

#the last hours - 10 posts

#tlh - 7 posts

#queued - 6 posts

#thomas lightwood - 6 posts

#alastair carstairs - 6 posts

#the wicked powers - 5 posts

#thomastair - 5 posts

#kat - 5 posts

#one shot - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 46 characters

#and i do hope your writer's block will go away

My Top Posts in 2021

What does it mean to join the tsc authors net? I write fics but I've never written for tsc, even though I love the fandom and I've been having really bad writer's block for the past few months, do I need to write fics as a part of the net?

Hello there! And here in the net, we promote fics from very talented tsc writers who deserve more recognition. And you don't have to write fics to join! There's an option for you to just reblog fics and help it get around because a lot are severely underappreciated. Our main goal is to appreciate the tsc fanfic writers by reblogging their content to help them spread it!

1 notes • Posted 2021-12-13 12:52:53 GMT

Hello there!

We are here to promote TSC fanfic authors and their work and we need members. Please send us an ask if you want to join us and make it a big family.

35 notes • Posted 2021-12-06 09:07:06 GMT

We are looking for new members! Join us in our endeavor to appreciate the tsc fanfic authors who work so hard and form a family :)

Applications open now !

Send us an ask to join now!

43 notes • Posted 2021-12-08 06:33:23 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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luciehercndale · 4 years

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Your writing is good!! This is kinda weird but would you write something about Charles and Alastair? Like some headcanons of how their relationship dynamics were. Don’t get me wrong, I really hate Charles and how he treated Alastair, but because i love Alastair so much I really want to know what he experienced. Even though it must have been a mostly bad and toxic relationship, there must have been some good times right? I’m really curious. Thank you so much❣️

Hi anon, don’t worry and thank you! 💕😃 Hope these make sense!

Charles and Alastair met during a social occasion, perhaps during Will and Tessa’s anniversary party in Paris in 1899. Alastair was bored out of his mind because he is not the party type, and decided to look for somebody to talk to who wasn’t a minor. There’s this part from the TLH Extra The Anniversary - Part 1 that makes me think so: “You look like you’ll be trying to impress someone at the party,” Cordelia teased him. “Anyone in particular?” “Everyone,” Alastair sniffed. “Everyone that is anyone.”Cordelia rolled her eyes.

Once Alastair reached Charles, they started talking about politics, since Charles already was trying to follow in Charlotte’s footsteps. Charles was intrigued (and envious) of Alastair’s wit and knowledge about different topics, and he asked to meet him again to discuss about the Enclave or other politics-related stuff. Alastair agreed because he thought Charles was the only one he could talk about this stuff.

Every time they met, Charles told Alastair about his achievement as a future possible Consul candidate. Alastair complimented on Charles’ progress, but he did not know that part of what Charles told him were lies, because Charles exaggerated the content of his stories a bit. All of this boasting made Charles realize that he liked Alastair because so far he was the only one who had ever complimented him for the things he was trying to do to become Consul (other than Charlotte, who was proud of Charles even tho he still had a lot to learn but she believed he will make it someday).

Since Charles liked the ego boost Alastair gave him, he asked Alastair to meet him in Paris on the pretense to discuss the things they liked. At some point Alastair started realizing why he liked to be with Charles. You see, I believe that Alastair already knew that he liked men and that’s why he was drawn to Charles (and to Thomas at the Academy too before Charles). It’s not like you could say: “I’m gay” out loud during Victorian/Edwardian London. And everyone realizes their sexuality (or asexuality) differently. I guess that he suspected that he liked men when he was at the Academy when he interacted with Thomas (because let’s be real, Alastair liked Thomas during the Academy very much already) but he was confident of his sexuality after meeting and interacting on a deeper level with Charles. Charles made Alastair be 100% confident that he liked men.

During one of their secret meetings, Charles told Alastair that a lighter hair color would suit his complexion. It was then that Alastair dyed his hair. He thought Charles would like the change but the first time he saw him with oxygenated hair, Charles laughed and said he was joking when he said that, but that he wasn’t wrong when he said blond hair would suit him. Alastair believed him and he kept dying his hair to please Charles, thinking that he preferred him with colored hair, even if he despise the smell of hair dye.

I don’t want to say this because I’m thinking about Thomastair (gah) but I believe that Charles was Alastair’s first love. He was the first person he said I love you to and let his guard down with him. It could also have been an infatuation masked as love. It would also make sense that Alastair doesn’t want to do anything about how he feels with Thomas because Charles broke his heart and he probably doesn’t believe in love anymore. I firmly believe it will be Thomas who will come forward with his feelings for Alastair first.

This relationship was probably mostly sexual. From the scene of Charlastair at the Carstairs’ where Charles tells Alastair of Barbara’s passing, you can tell that sex what they usually did most likely when they were together. It also contrasts with what he does with Thomas in Paris: they do mundane things, enjoy art, books, talk about random stuff. It wasn’t like this with Charles and Alastair realizes it. Charles was needy, unsure, and Alastair gave him validation because he probably idolized him. On the other hand, Thomas was confident, he got a tattoo which was not something everyone did back in the 1900 (!!!) and Alastair seemed to admire that. Thomas didn’t need to be idolized by anyone because he knew who he was and what he wanted.

Charles made the first move on Alastair. Alastair was shocked because it was his first kiss and indulged in whatever activity Charles made him do while they were in private because he thought Charles may end this relationship if he didn’t want to do something. Tell you, toxic relationship.

It was Charles that made Alastair thinking of joining politics. He had been very interested in politics already, but never thought about becoming a political figure in the shadow world.

BONUS: now that Charles and Alastair have broken up, I think that Alastair may be truly interested in joining politics. Not only because he likes politics, but also to get a little revenge on Charles. Whenever they talked politics in the early stages of their relationship, Charles used to mock some of Alastair’s ideas. At the time, Alastair thought that was because he was still young (ugh don’t let me start on the age difference) and he had a lot to learn and Charles had more experience in politics. But the truth was that Charles was simply jealous of Alastair’s bright ideas. Alastair decided that he shall never let someone like Charles play with his heart and manipulate him.

Thanks for the ask! I got carried away as usual 😱

#Anonymous #alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #tlh #thomas lightwood #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #tid #my edits 2 #tweety.writes #charles and alastair #posta

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crimziedrawings · 4 years

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Hi!! I loved your last Thomastair drabble, I mean it was so so good, loved also how you included how Barbara’s death affected Thomas. And I wanted to suggest if you still are accepting prompts how would you feel doing one with “You need to stop doing stupid shit or you’ll get yourself killed!” with Will and Cecily? I really loved their sibling dynamic in Clockwork Princess and there is hardly any content of them and I think that prompt could fit in their relation. Thank so much !

I love this idea!

Prompt 2, “You need to stop doing stupid shit or you’ll get yourself killed!” – Will and Cecily

~~~

The silence that fell upon the pair nearly drove Will mad. He glanced at Cecily, catching the look of rage on her before swiftly looking away. He heard her sigh and his heart was heavy. Yet, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Why?”

Will kept his gaze on the road ahead of them.

“Answer me,”

He leaned back, stretching his legs out as much as he could in her little VW.

“Will,” Cecily seethed.

Will continued to ignore her. He was not ready for this conversation.

“Answer me, damn it!”

“Just drive,” Will hissed.

Cecily pulled over sharply and slammed on the brakes. She barely gave Will time to recover before she turned on him. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s none of your concern,”

“Bullshit!” Cecily yelled. “This is the fourth time I’ve picked you up from the police. I don’t know how you keep getting so damn lucky that I’m the one answering the phone and not mam and dad.”

“You’re so dramatic, Cece,” Will said, rolling his eyes. Secretly, he knew she was right. He was beyond grateful that their parents hadn’t been the ones to find out about him getting arrested yet again, but he was still left with a sick feeling every time he saw Cecily waiting for him outside of the police department. He should be an example for her, his little sister. The girl who used to crawl into his bed whenever thunderstorms became too rough. The girl who would race him to the front seat in a car ride, always losing but still fighting with every effort she had. The girl who, even though she annoyed the hell out of him so very easily, was like his best friend. Now, he could barely look her in the eye.

“Dramatic?” she screeched, causing Will to wince. “You were arrested for possession of illegal substances! Before, it was because you broke into someone’s house. Not to mention the time you got caught drinking, underage, and when you trashed Mr. Lightwood’s house!”

He did not know what to say. He was immensely ashamed. He did not regret his actions, only hated the fact that Cecily knew of what he did.

“Will, please,” Cecily begged. “You need to stop doing stupid shit or you’ll get yourself killed!”

“It’s not what you think,” Will said.

“Then please, tell me what it is. Because I am tired of seeing this stranger in my brother’s place,”

Will looked away, contemplating whether he should tell Cecily the truth. Only, it wasn’t his truth to tell. “I don’t know if I can tell you,”

“You can, Will! You can trust me,” Cecily said. “It’s me. Unlike you, I have not changed.”

“It’s not that simple,” Will murmured, struggling to think of an excuse. He was sick of seeing the way she looked at him, seeing the absolute disgust and disappointment written all over her face. “I have a friend…”

Cecily waited and Will took that silence as a chance to continue.

“I have a friend who is ill. A bad man destroyed his entire world and left him sick. Now, he has to take a certain type of… medicine, or he will get worse a lot faster. And my friend, he is a good guy. He doesn’t deserve this. But obviously the universe or the heavens or whatever the hell is out there doesn’t give a shit,” Will spat. “The drugs I had, they weren’t for me. They were for him. Everything has been for him. His body is now addicted to this drug, it is craving it, and he needs to have it or his body will give up on him. But recently, he’s stopped taking it. I had thought it was because prices were jacking up and it was too expensive. That’s why I broke into someone’s house and was drinking in that alley. It wasn’t me who decided to do that. There are these people, this gang, that has this drug. And it’s not like I have the money for it either so they only way I could get it, to save Je- my friend, is to join them.”

Cecily gasped, her hand reaching to cover her mouth. “Will, you didn’t…”

“We broke into one of the member’s ex’s house to steal some stupid little cat because the guy was too petty to let her keep it. And another time, they were partying, celebrating a successful new deal with another gang, and expected me to act like them, to be like them. I couldn’t risk jeopardizing the whole scheme so I went with it. And tonight, I finally got a deal from a new batch, a good amount, and I left them ,” Will said. He turned, hitting the dashboard. “Then the fucking cops showed up.”

Cecily was quiet for a while before asking, “And the Lightwoods?”

Despite the serious tone, Will smirked. “Lightworm just pissed me off that day,”

Cecily rolled her eyes, yet a smile found its way to her lips. “Who is this friend of yours?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s not my decision for you to know his story,”

“The only thing that matters now is that you’re done, right? No more phone calls from the London Police Department telling me that you’ve been arrested and begging me to come pick up your annoying ass?”

“They said that?”

“No, but I could sense the underlying pleads,”

“Oh, whatever,” Will laughed. “I’ll have you know, I was a delightful criminal. I had so many compliments on my hair, and everyone wanted to know where I got my sweet kicks. Of course, that also included the other people locked up and they weren’t so patient of my being. But that’s the curse of being so damn beautiful and awesome.”

Cecily turned back to the steering wheel and drove back into the road. “You’re a curse, alright. And next time Gabriel pisses you off, you need to take your frustrations out in a different way, not by TP-ing his house,”

“I also egged it,”

“Of course you did,”

Will smiled back his sister, feeling like a weight has been lifted off him.

~~~

Prompt list

What ship should I do next? I am accepting idea from TSC, TOG, and ACOTAR series.

#the infernal devices #william herondale #will herondale #cecily herondale #jem carstairs #gabriel lightwood #clockwork angel #clockwork prince #clockwork princess #the shadowhunter chronicles

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