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iloveallmyocs · 3 years

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Letters from the past

Kit Herondale’s breath caught in his chest upon viewing the discovery that he had made. He tried wiping the dust which had settled on the paper over the course of decades, probably centuries. Spidery calligraphy spilled throughout the page and although the paper was definitely six decades or more of age, the paper wasn’t very damaged and Kit could easily make out that it was a letter. A very intimate one.

kit traced his finger over the parchment, discovering that the letter was addressed to ‘Tom’ and was signed off by one mr ‘Alastair Carstairs’. To be specific, it was signed off as ‘Yours Always, Alastair Carstairs’.

Kit’s mind immediately went to Jem and later Emma. The Los Angeles Institute. Ty. ‘focus’ he told himself, before going back to reading. He felt overwhelmed, like he was holding a piece of history in his hands.

The scribbling in the letter announced that it was written at the seventh September of nineteen hundred and eleven.

My dearest Tom,

I am very disheartened to announce to you that work has become the most tedious of affairs. What might have caused it to become so? Well, I must first start by saying that serving as counsul for seven years is all that I have dreamed of and more and never will I be any less interested in it.

you must feel perplexed now, wondering about what exactly I mean to convey. With each passing second, I begin to yearn for you more. Some days it is as if I can feel you lingering nearby but as I look around I am faced with the grim reality that it is all but an illusion. The one thing that brings me solace in those times is the thought of what we could do after all of this is over. I think about us, in Cirenworth. Cordelia has already made a promise to me that she will keep us company every weekend. Kamala and Eugenia-

Kit closed his eyes shut and hastily folded the letter and put it away. He felt as though he was invading Alastair Carstairs’ very, very personal space.

once again, he opened the letter to have a look at the date written on it. he had read it right the first time. 7th of September 1911. 1911. More than a hundred years from then. Kit hoped that Alastair Carstairs did get to live in his house with whoever was ‘Tom’ after his term.

“D- Jem?” kit called out loud.

A few moments later Jem entered the room to see his adopted son sitting on the floor of the storage room with his head dipped low, resting on his knees.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice etched with concern.

“Were you close with Alastair Carstairs? I think you’ve mentioned him before, but I’d never really paid attention. You didn’t tell me that he was the counsul and that he liked men. IN 1911″

“You always fall asleep right when I start with the names” smiled Jem, although he had taken notice of the troubled look still lingering on Kit’s face.

“Di-did anything bad happen to him, or Tom?” inquired Kit, looking up at Jem.

Jem shook his head. “Nothing I am aware of, no. He had a rough childhood, with an alcoholic father and getting bullied at school because of his race. But he always held his head high. He was very strong, emotionally. Did you know he was counsul for eleven years?”

kit’s shoulders relaxed. “So, they got a happily ever after? They didn’t killed or anything?”

Jem reached over to ruffle kit’s hair. “Happily ever after. They lived together and both lived a long life” he said, and later added “You on the other hand, will probably live a very short one, because Tessa will probably murder you if you keep her waiting one minute longer. This is the fifth time you’re making us all late for dinner. You’re the one who chose the restaurant this time. Mina is going to start complaining any minute now”

Kit laughed and held his hand out to Jem, who after helping him up silently prayed that his son would never have to endure heartbreak ever again, as he did when he was Johnny Rook’s son.

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ok so someone came with the hc about Kit Herondale finding old pictures of Alastair and thinking ‘wow he’s hot’. That was the inspiration for the fic, but obviously I made a few changes. (also whoever came up with that, you’re a genius)

this is my first time writing a fic (I write other things). Romance is not my forte, so if the letter seems cringe, I am so sorry lol. Also, since this is my first time, please leave feedback, doesn’t matter if it is negative. I only wrote this so that I could have an assessment on my writing.

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cant-think-of-anything · 3 years

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dare to stay and watch what we'll become

(If you know what song this is from I know it's sit, not stay, but that didn't fit as well)

Is it the best idea to start a chaptered fic when I've never been able to finish one in the past? Yes it is, have fun.

Hour One

Cordelia glared at the Townsend's party invitation that had been aggressively tacked to the wall above her vanity mirror. Her distaste for parties wasn't nearly as strong as her brother's was, but regardless she felt it was, in their current situation, a frivolous expense. They were fresh out of a war, an experience that had left everyone scarred in one way or another, but she supposed even that couldn't pry extravagant parties from the London's wealthiest.

Running a brush through her hair, she looked to her brother in the mirror. Alastair wasn't going to the party, which only piled onto her misery. He had been earnestly requested for, her entire family seemed to be subjected to the prying eyes of the Enclave, but he'd managed to convince their mother that signing up for patrol on that night was more important.

Alastair looked up from his book, glancing at her curiously and effectively snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Denying these invitations is only going to make them more determined you know," she said. "They believe we're harbouring some awful secrets, I wouldn't be surprised if they sent one of their own to drag you to the party."

Alastair scoffed a laugh, closing his eyes, "Let them try, I'm sure after the stunt I pulled at the last Townsend's party they'll be glad that I've locked myself back in the house where I can't corrupt the purest minds of their children."

Cordelia frowned at the darker tone in his voice. She had always known he wasn't fond of social excursions but surely it wasn't healthy for him to be this isolated. He didn't seem bothered by it but that had never meant much had it? Seeming to sense her gaze on him, he turned.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow, standing up and tugging the brush out of her hand. Carefully detangling the ends of her hair, he spoke softly. "Stop worrying about me. You're a very transparent thinker. I prefer it this way."

Sighing she turned in her chair. Alastair didn't meet her eyes, he often didn't when he was uncomfortable. "You don't."

Alastair didn't respond, but there was a tenseness in his movements. "Your hair looks presentable. Will Lucie be there?"

"She should be," Cordelia responded, absorbing the subject change.

Ignoring the knowing look Alastair gave her, she pulled a coat off her door. "I have to go now. I'd much rather prefer if you came with me."

"I know. But I can't."

When she heard the knocks on the door she turned to carefully wrap her arms around her brother.

"Have fun," he said, "Try to not let them drain all the energy out of you."

"I won't. Promise me you'll do something fun tonight."

He nodded, every bit as unconvincing as she expected.

---

Alastair let the curtain drop when Cordelia's carriage rolled away. Risa and Sona's steady chatter quieted and he could feel the weight of their gaze on the back of his head. Occasionally he wished for things to return to the way they were before his biggest secrets were bared to his family. He hated nearly everything about his own life then, caught up in a storm of misery that only seemed to worsen with time.

But there was a cruel sort of comfort knowing that he was the only one who knew of his own suffering. There was a safety in his brittle armour, and he felt weak with it stripped away. Logically he knew that concern didn't negate believing someone was strong, he constantly worried for his sister despite her strength, but he couldn't rid himself of the belief.

Glancing back at Risa and his mother, he could feel a flicker of a smile. They were preoccupied with fussing over Alastair's younger sibling who sat cocooned in a swarm of blankets, that were haphazardly pulled from boxes that contained neatly folded parts of Alastair and Cordelia's childhood. He moved to the couch hesitantly, claiming his spot beside Risa. He crossed his legs, shifting out of the firelight's glow, content to watch.

---

Thomas was wallowing. Caught up in his own bubble of misery, he watched as his family were decorating, or more accurately, attempting to decorate the ballroom. The New Year's Ball, among a myriad of other events, was a highly important annual celebration that the Institute had the honor of hosting. Unfortunately if sophistication was the ultimate goal, he thought as he watched Eugenia brandish her sword at Matthew as they attempted to arrange the candles in an acceptable way, they might miss the mark by quite a bit.

Resisting the urge to shred the mound of flowers he'd been handed, he turned to Lucie. She herself seemed to be lost in thought, her face uncharacteristically serious.

"Lucie," he whispered, kicking her ankle.

She startled, looking up with wide eyes. "Yes Thomas? I apologise, I was just..." Lucie trailed off, waving her hand as if it would make her sentence disappear.

"Do you think we'd be able to get away with sneaking off to avoid this party?"

"No, but I desperately wish we were able to," Lucie said casting a mournful look at the doors which people were starting to enter through. "We could go to the balcony I suppose. And barricade the door."

Thomas agreed with relief, catching a glance of the Bridgestocks who were being greeted by Tessa. Kamala looked up from the ground momentarily, her eyes widening fractionally when they met his.

In the two weeks that had passed since Belial's defeat, she and Alastair seemed to grow a friendship. He didn't know how much Kamala knew, though it was unlikely Alastair had told her anything considering how even now, she looked as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle at the sight of him.

Regardless he was grateful when Lucie pulled him to the balcony. Holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the light of the sunset, he looked to Lucie.

Who was firmly looking back. "Something is wrong with you." She declared, squinting at him. "You look remarkably suspicious for someone who's meant to be a voice of reason. If you have pulled off something highly dangerous you should confide in me."

"I haven't committed a crime Lucie. Nothing since the entire investigating a killer event anyway, even then I hadn't done anything illegal. I'm assuming."

Even as he said it, Thomas winced, his mind drifting to the hours in the sanctuary, to the person he'd been desperately trying and failing to forget for the past weeks. It was a cruel thing for his mind to do, to constantly take any normal thing in his life and warp it to remind him of Alastair.

Even now, watching the sunset and struck by the sudden memories of leaning on the railings that lined the walkway beside the river Siene. Enamoured by the beauty of the sunset on the water but more so by the sunset on him, turning his skin dark gold, defining every perfect wave that resulted from the wind pulling his hair out of its usual confinements. The way the light made it that much easier to note the way his pupils dilated when he saw Thomas, pushing the darker brown away and leaving Thomas wondering why is was suddenly much harder to breathe.

He was snapped out of his hazy daydream when he heard Lucie make a noise. Turning he saw her staring down at the steady stream of people entering the institute, among them and standing out quite a bit was Cordelia Carstairs. She was, he noted with a pang, alone. Not that he'd really expected to see Alastair here. He hadn't heard a word from or about the him for weeks. Lucie managed a quick word of departure before re-entering the ballroom, leaving Thomas alone on the balcony with his thoughts.

---

Kamala was hiding. Being the daughter of one of the most prestiges families known to the London enclave meant that she had to arrive at such parties outrageously early. Unfortunately, the girl she was trying to hide from was from equal class and had arrived before she did. She'd only caught a glimpse of Eugenia, tortuously beautiful in a deep green gown, before ducking behind a high shelf that was shoved to the corner of the ballroom.

One of the building's best qualities was the many hidden areas it created with it's dim lighting making the majority of the room fall into shadows since night had fallen. Backing away from where her parents were visible, she stumbled over the person that had materialized behind her, her elbow hitting the wooden shelf.

Rubbing the sore spot, she looked up warily, met with the sight of a very uncomfortable Thomas Lightwood.

"Oh." She said, staring up at him, unsure what to add. Kamala was sure that she was bound by some friendship pact with Alastair that entailed not exchanging a single word with Thomas, but after all she had no specific qualms with him. Alastair's relationships had all seemed strained and difficult, but knowing what she did about Eugenia's brother, he didn't seem like the cruel type.

Thomas shifted uncomfortably looking anywhere but at her. "I wanted to...ask you something."

Oh. So this was about Alastair. That she should've assumed. Watching him curiously, she waited.

"Do you know where he is?"

"You're asking me for his whereabouts? Why? Are you planning to go after him?" Kamala fought off smiling, deciding it would probably be unwise considering how distraught Thomas already seemed. But as Alastair's friend she felt she had some right to revel in his awkward situations. Or at least she assumed she did, she wasn't entirely sure how friendships worked.

"I- yes. Maybe? Most likely not. I might."

"Okay. He's scheduled to patrol the Fleet Street area if you'd like to attempt to find him."

Thomas, who was visibly red even in the poorly lit ballroom, just nodded and walked away, still appearing dreadfully discomfited.

"What did you do to the poor boy," an amused voice said from behind her.

Kamala startled at the sound of Eugenia's voice, and was even more alarmed by her hand that curled around her shoulder.

Eugenia didn't seem to be bothered by her lack of response as she watched her brother disappear behind the balcony doors. "Whatever it is, I must thank you for bringing it to my attention. I fear I've fallen behind in my sisterly duties of embarrassing him to death."

Kamala knew of no such sisterly duties. As an only child, the closest she could get would be to reveal her parrots deepest secrets.

"Always glad to be of assistance," she said, wishing she could melt into the bookshelves. "Though he has the right idea, finding a quiet area to escape this overwhelming chatter." Overwhelming chatter, she said, as if most of it hadn't been coming from her.

"If it's a place of quiet you're looking for, I know multiple. Growing up here does have a few advantages. I could... show you if you'd like."

"Of course," Kamala said, immediately and far too eagerly. "Just... a moment. I need to inform my friend of something do you know of anyone who could deliver a message on my behalf?"

Eugenia nodded, pointing at a nearby table. "Christopher could."

"He would leave the party to send a message for me?"

"No, no. I mean he might, but I meant you could try one of those fire messages of his."

Eugenia waved her cousin over, exchanging a few words before aqquiring a paper and a stele. She pressed them into Kamala's hands.

Using the bookshelf as a makeshift clipboard and thanking her, Kamala wrote.

Alastair,

I fear I may have sabatoged your patrol. In the spirit of communication, I'm sending this to forewarn you, if you happen to run into a certain Lightwood, I forfeit all blame.

Kamala.

Folding it, she gave it to Eugenia, who scrawled a quick rune into the paper, and watched it disentigrate to ash.

---

Cordelia watched the faux snowflakes drift above the dance floor, most likely enchanted by warlocks to never melt and stay perpetually floating in the air. It was snowing outside now too, she could feel some of the biting cold air seep in from the windows that she had pressed herself against, waiting for Lucie.

Lucie, despite her size, was easy to spot, flitting through the crowd like a hummingbird to reach Cordelia. When she neared, Cordelia felt relieved, wholeheartedly believing that there was no prideful way to stand at a party alone.

Lucie, without warning, took Cordelia's hand and pulled her along back through the crowd, too filled with chatter and music for her to ask why she was being dragged across the ballroom. They pushed through the doors, and exited through the foyer, finally stopping at the Institute's ridiculously large staircase.

"It's so loud in there," Lucie grumbled, all but stamping her foot. "Somehow their unimportant talk steals the thoughts out of my mind."

Cordelia smiled a bit, silently agreeing but still a little miffed with being dragged into the cold winter. Rubbing her hands together she lowered herself into the steps.

When Lucie settled next to her, the air seemed to grow slightly warmer.

"I'd rather we weren't required to go to these parties. They're dreadful. I want to sleep."

Cordelia nodded mournfully, longing for the warmth of her room. "At the very least we'll be here to witness any of the drama that's sure to take place."

"Do you believe anything of importance will happen?"

Cordelia looked back. Through the opened doors she could see Kamala and Eugenia walking with their heads bent low as they talked. Looking through the large windows she could see Anna looking nearly mutinous, James and Matthew looking oddly solemn as they dicussed something intently. Glancing up she could see the faint outline of a tall man sitting on the balcony, face tilted slightly downwards as if he was waiting. She turned back to Lucie, who was watching her with bright blue eyes. Resisting the inexplicable urge to draw closer, she shook her head.

"No, I don't believe so."

In the time between my last fic and this one a lot of urls changed so I might have tagged the wrong person on accident, lmk

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Taglist, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @spooky-drusilla @adamariasmith @eugeniaslongsword @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @alice-got-the-blues @blackasmysoul @carstairrs

#this is one of those that i can't tell if i like it or hate it #idk not thrilled but i hope you liked it #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #kamala joshi #eugenia lightwood #joshwood #cordelia carstairs #lucie herondale #lucelia #tlh #the last hours #tsc

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ninacarstairss · 3 years

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ALASTAIR AND KAMALA HEADCANONS

THOMASTAIR WEEK — day 6, favorite friendship dynamics of thomas and alastair @youngreckless

alastair is super afraid of spiders. kamala finds out when she walks into his room once and finds him standing on a chair with a tense look on his face.

“what the hell are you doing there?” she asks.

“uh. nothing” alastair says in a fake casual tone. “theres— uh. there's a spider. somewhere.”

kamala laughs, kills the spider with her shoe and never lets alastair live that down. “a grown ass shadowhunter standing on a fucking chair because of a teeny tiny spider!”

alastair thinks he might kill her. but he gets back at her when she starts running around the training room once because a bee came in through the window.

when kamala broke up with anna she was heartbroken and alastair whisked her away for a couple of days and took her to italy. he got a hotel for a couple of nights and they visited rome. kamala's smile came fully back for the first time underneath il trionfo in palazzo barberini.

alastair's tell for when he's anxious is in his shoulders. when they became friends kamala started noticing that every once in a while alastair would move his shoulders in small circles or he would clench his muscles or shake his shoulders ever so lightly it was barely noticeable to inattentive eyes and that was a sign that alastair was stressed. whenever kamala notices this she moves closer to him and touches his hand or his arm, a contact she knows steadies him, and asks whether he wants to vent about what's stressing him or if he wants to be distracted from it.

at first, they learned in baby steps how to be around each other. neither of them had been too great at friendships or relationships before, but when they met something clicked, like a jigsaw puzzle coming into place. despite this they were always too careful at first, always worried to say the wrong thing or do the wrong move. then, one day kamala strode in the room and asked alastair if he wanted to be her friend for real because she was tired of the tenseness. alastair laughed and ever since that moment it became clear kamala was bold enough to stay by his side and he was steady enough to stay by hers.

they love going to the movies and they made it a habit to go at least once every two weeks and try out a different type of popcorn or candy every time. so far they've tried them all twice and everyone at the movie theatre knows the two friends that come every other thursday and pick a different snack every time.

kamala likes to get piercings on her ears and alastair always goes with her for support.

alastair gives kamala her first lesbian flag and even though she can't hang it in her room because her parents probably wouldn't support her if she came out, she tucks it under her pillow and keeps her close when she sleeps. alastair knows she's proud and happy to be herself and she wanted to have a little sign of comfort around even though it had to stay hidden most of the time.

people generally have coffee or shopping dates, they instead have skating platonic dates. there's a skating ring close to kamala's house and they ended up there once by mistake while looking for food, but alastair convinced kamala to try so they rented skates and started spinning. kamala wasn't too good at first and kept falling down, alastair instead seemed to be born to do that.

when they go off to college they get a flat together and they have the best time as roommates.

alastair cooks the best breakfasts and kamala always has music playing in the apartment.

soon after they became friends, they started teaching each other their mother tongues. kamala taught alastair marathi/hindi and he taught her farsi and now they can both speak and understand the languages well enough that they can sometimes talk to the other in their mother tongue. it's a way for them to stay connected to their roots, especially for kamala since she never used her mother tongue at home after she was adopted.

kamala bought some saris when she moved out from home and alastair helped her pick the designs and colours. he was so happy to finally see her be able to regain contact with the culture she loved but had to leave behind for years.

kamala is an art student and alastair majors in history.

they have tons of canvases and drawings in the house painted by kamala and alastair loves them.

they also constantly have books of all kind lying around they house. there are like five books on the couch that are alastair’s readings for the semester and three books on his nightstand that he’s currently reading for his own pleasure, a couple more books on the kitchen counter that kamala is reading or planning to read and another stack on a small table where they keep the plants that were supposed to be placed on the shelves and organized by author but never made it there.

they have a little corner in the living room where they set a table and bought different plants to look after with a carefully developed system of watering and care.

when they first started living together they bought a board to use for assigning chores and schedules to do them but it literally lasted two weeks before they decided that kamala hated doing the dishes but could vacuum and dust the furniture with no problem and alastair preferred to be in charge of food shopping and doing the dishes.

near the end of their first year of college they meet the lightwood siblings. alastair asks thomas out as soon as he sees the tall boy trip on his own feet and spill half of his coffee on his shirt when he lays eyes on alastair. soon enough they're the strongest and cutest couple out there. it takes a while longer for kamala and eugenia to realize they like each other and both tom and alastair realize before them, so they organize a couple of double dates for them without knowing it and soon after they get together.

thomas had never seen his sister so happy and alastair is so glad to see his friend being finally in love again.

they have a shared love for thrift shops and they pop there every once in a while to stash on cool hats and jackets even though both their wardrobes are full and about to give out under the weight of clothes.

tag list: @cordaisya @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @stxr-thxif @icycoolslushie @writeforjordelia @gabtapia @fair-childd

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