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#tweety.writes
luciehercndale · 4 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)
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tweetybreatheswords · 3 years
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Hello! You're really gifted, I love your writing! I'm not sure if it works this way, but I'm craving for a combination of Thomastair "You're burning up" and "I can't do anything right" prompts. Thank you! 👉👈
Hi! Sorry for the delay, you sent me this in 2020 and I could just reply now. Hope this one is what you expect! It contains Chain of Iron Spoilers, so I advise you to read it only if you’ve read the book.
Couple/Characters: Thomastair, Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs Rating: T Words: 1391
Thomas was ecstatic to be alone, but he had to admit that he was a little intimidated. The killer had been caught, that much was true, but it didn’t mean that the streets of London couldn’t harbor more dangers. He still had to keep his guard up, and be vigil. You never knew what you could find around the corner. Thomas was alert. His hand went on the hilt of the knife by his belt when he heard footsteps. It was probably a mundane, despite the hour, but one could never be sure.
The noise disappeared as it came, and he sighed. Thinking about that reminded him about him. He was patrolling because he didn’t want to think about what had happened in the sanctuary. He had loved every second of it, but then Alastair had decided for him and didn’t give them a chance. Thomas was angry, but not at Alastair. His anger was not directed at the beautiful man with eyes the color of opal, but at himself. He wished he had told him then, that he didn’t agree. That he didn’t care what other people thought, he wanted to be with him.
Thomas squeezed his hands, and kicked at a stone nearby. He would gladly punch the wall, but he knew better than to do that. He felt helpless, and he didn’t know what to do. He believed that it was already important that he had been forward with Alastair, but that he had also let too much precious time pass. And now… now he missed him. He never realized that Alastair had been following him in order to keep him safe during his lonely patrol. If things had been different…
He stopped abruptly, and turned. He was sure that someone was behind him. He heard uneven steps, as if whoever was walking behind him was stumbling, and then a cough. Perhaps it was really a demon. People didn’t usually walk around in the dead of the night, unless they were shadowhunters. Or they didn’t have better things to do.
“You,” he said.
Alastair staggered as he walked, keeping his hand to the wall. His face fell when Thomas acknowledged him. “You,” he answered back, coughing. “Never learn.”
Thomas wanted to argue, and say that it wasn’t his business how he decided to conduct his life. He had, after all, decided that he didn’t want to be in it. But he didn’t. He reached Alastair, who was unable to stand still. He barely glanced at Thomas, and he looked like he would faint any minute.
“Alastair joon,” he said with urgence, worry etching his voice. “Are you hurt?”
Alastair gazed up at Thomas, who was towering over him like a marble statue. Imposing, but welcoming. A piece of art to stare at, that you longed to touch but remembered you could not. It wasn’t possible. He was frowning. “I’m completely, utterly,” he whimpered, “fine.”
Thomas couldn’t help but sigh. How long was he going to tell him lies? Because he didn’t believe that he had been honest, the last time they saw each other after the fight at the Institute. He didn’t care what he would think of him. His hand couldn’t help but reach Alastair’s neck, then his cheek. His thumb lingered on the side of his jaw for longer than he had intended, but he couldn’t withdraw his hand. He saw the way Alastair was trying to make him believe all of this didn’t bother him. And he knew better.
“Keep telling that to yourself,” he answered coolly, grabbing Alastair and placing his arm behind his back, his hand secured on his hip so he wouldn’t fall.
Alastair tried to protest and disentangle himself from Thomas’ grasp, but he didn’t let him. And the truth was that he didn’t want to. “Where are we going,” he asked faintly, as Thomas helped him stand as they walked.
“To my flat,” Thomas replied. “It is closer to this street,” he explained casually. “And you need to lie down.”
“You could just drop me home, and don’t bother, Tom.”
“No,” Thomas answered sharply, indicating that he would not argue with him over this. That stunned Alastair to silence.
No one spoke for the rest of the way to Thomas’ flat. He could feel that Alastair wasn’t feeling good, because he hadn’t bitten back any retort after he firmly stated where they were going. Thomas hoped this wasn’t going to be a train wreck, because his heart was already shattered as it was, but he couldn’t help it. I’m only doing it because he’s ill, he told himself.
They crossed the threshold, and he helped Alastair on the armchair by the small grate. He would light up the fire soon, but he wanted to check on him first. He took his coat off and placed it on the other armchair. Alastair had closed his eyes, apparently sleeping. Thomas crossed the room and got to him. He touched his forehead with the back of his hand.
“You’re burning up,” Thomas murmured with concern, and went to the kitchen to fetch a cold towel before the other could say anything, and placed it on his forehead with care.
“Thomas,” Alastair said. “Thomas, stop.”
“You’ll never get someone else help you, won’t you,” Thomas sighed in frustration, touching Alastair’s cheeks with his hand. He wasn’t just trying to make his temperature go down with his cold hands. He had longed to touch Alastair’s face, and would use this occasion to do it. Who knew when –
“Your hands are too cold, by the angel!” Alastair exclaimed, surprising Thomas.
He stopped, realizing that he probably exaggerated. “I’m sorry,” he said honestly, but he could tell Alastair was not mad. He managed a smile.
“What are you sorry for? I’m the one down with,” he coughed. “A fever.”
“Did you know that you got a cold?” Thomas wondered, bewildered. He wouldn’t get mad. He wouldn’t.
Alastair sighed. “I figured as much when I started staggering after you,” he admitted, glancing away.
“You shouldn’t have followed me.”
“I wasn’t following you,” he retorted. Thomas raised an eyebrow. “I can’t do anything right,” he said after a while. He looked defeated. Tired. Guilty. And he didn’t want him to feel like that.
“That’s bollocks, and you know it,” he said gravelly.
“I don’t know anything anymore, Tom,” he replied, and his heart broke again. For him.  
“Then let me remind you,” Thomas offered, barely registering the shock on Alastair face as he knelt down on the carpet and grabbed his face to give him a kiss that was not so chaste.
Alastair was burning. Literally and figuratively. Thomas knew that he shouldn’t do that, that he shouldn’t kiss Alastair with such ferment when he was sick. He was aware that he’d get hotter, but he couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t control his hands as they grabbed Alastair’s silky hair, and then clung to the back of his neck, of his shoulders. He didn’t care that he’d probably come down with the flu too. In that moment, they were the only thing that mattered in his private space.
“Thomas,” Alastair chided, out of breath, their foreheads touching. They were scorching hot.
“You can’t decide for me, Alastair. You can’t,” he muttered softly, desperately. “I don’t care what anybody says about me and you. About us,” he said, staring in Alastair’s black eyes to make the point get to him. “They’ll have to deal with it. Everyone will have to deal with it. And if they don’t,” he paused, “then it’s their problem.”
Alastair’s eyes widened. No one had stood up for him like that before. “Your friends are important for you.”
“And I know that I’m important for them,” he replied confidently. “You are also important to me,” he revealed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Is that right,” Alastair wondered quietly, meeting Thomas’ eyes.
“Love is never wrong.”
Alastair stared at the man with whom he thought he didn’t have any future anymore, unable to say anything coherent. Thomas waited expectantly, with bright eyes. Alastair realized in that instant that he didn’t have to say anything, that actions spoke louder than words. So, he kissed Thomas, who understood the magnitude of that gesture. Alastair had just given him access to his heart, and he wouldn’t chance to lose it.
Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale
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luciehercndale · 1 month
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This was supposed to be posted on Valentine's Day, but I am a little busy/burned out so I'm taking my time. Thomastair in their 40's being silly and playful and in love <3 Thomas wants to write a love letter to Alastair.
Rating: G
Hamsaram, this year will be our twentieth Valentine’s Day together, and I  –
Thomas heard the footsteps coming from the first floor, and dropped his fountain pen on the piece of paper in front of him. The ink splattered all over the white, and washed away the words he had typed. He sighed, but there was nothing to do to save the few lines anymore.
“Tom?”
“Yes?” He looked up from his desk, and grinned at his handsome husband. 
Alastair’s eyes went on the paper in front of him, and Thomas was grateful that the pen had ruined it. “Are you working?”
“No, I was just,” he paused, “writing down the things we need to buy for the house.”
“Well, it looks like you’ll have to do that again,” he said. “Do remember the shaving soap, jegaram. It’s almost finished.”
“It was the first thing I wrote on the list,” he lied. He thanked Alastair for reminding him. They truly needed shaving soap. “Let me write that again before I forget.”
“Instead of doing that, why don’t you help me?”
“Are you going somewhere?”
Alastair tilted his head on the side. “In this? Heck, no,” he shrugged. “I thought it was a good day to paint that spare room on the upper floor.”
“The shirt looks fine to me,” Thomas said. 
“There’s a big stain over here and here,” Alastair pointed out. 
Thomas crumpled the stained paper and threw it into the trashcan by the desk. “I can’t see it from here,” he squinted his eyes with a grin. 
“It’s right here,” he added, but Thomas was shrugging. “Perhaps, if you came closer, you would see.”
He rose from his chair and inspected his partner’s clothing with his finger. “This tiny thing? It’s nothing compared to the blot that ruined my paper.”
Alastair rolled his eyes. “Paper is useless if you make a mess with the pen. Ruined shirts are perfect for house chores, instead.”
“Do you have an old shirt for me, jegaram?”
“What do you think? I always come prepared, my handsome Tom,” he assured, offering him a wide smile. 
That was enough to convince him to go upstairs and help him. 
The love letter would have to wait. 
“There is paint in your hair,” Alastair said, and brushed Thomas’ brown strands.
“I might have touched my hair while I was on the ladder,” he answered. “It was covering my eyes.”
“You were about to do that again”, he took his hand. It was covered in yellow paint, and Alastair grabbed a tissue to clean it. 
Thomas sighed. “How come you’re not dirty? You probably painted more than I, but your shirt looks even cleaner than before.”
“Luck?”
“Don’t look so proud, dear.” Thomas said, and left a trail of wet paint on Alastair’s white shirt. 
Alastair raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so is this how it is, huh?”
“You had to throw away this shirt anyway,” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Besides, this isn’t yours.”
“How do you know?”
“It looks too big on you,” he touched his chest. “But I like it. Too bad you can’t wear it outside.”
“Tom, even if it’s yours, I wouldn’t have worn it outside,” Alastair shrugged. “It has stains.”
“It did not,” he insisted. 
He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, hamsaram. At least, we’re almost done with this room.”
“Teamwork pays off,” he agreed. 
“Indeed. And it tires. I think I’m going to nap for a bit.” Alastair smiled at his husband. “Are you coming with me?”
Thomas sighed. He wanted to go, but this break offered him a great opportunity to finish that letter. “I think I’m going to pass,” he said. “I just remembered I need to look at some papers.”
“I’d rather look at the bed for a while,” Alastair said. 
I would rather look at the bed and at you for a while too, Thomas thought absentmindedly. But if I don’t write this letter now, I may not have the time later.
“I’ll help you with the room again later?” he offered.
“Sure,” Alastair kissed his lips and left.
Hamsaram, this year will be our twentieth Valentine’s Day together, and I am ecstatic to be spending it with you. You are the only one I want to spend it with, aside with our two kitties. Do not be jealous. You make me the happiest person alive. I just need to look into those big black eyes of yours to feel invigorated, content, and at home. Safe. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, and I am thankful for every day we spend together. Years ago, when I accidentally sent you that fire message with that awkward line, I never thought we would get this far. I wasn’t sure you would give us another chance, or that we would survive at all because of the threat posed over the city at the time. We made it, against all odds. You’re so precious to me. And I 
Thomas raised his head from the sheet. Alastair observed him, his head tilted to the side. 
“Still working, Tom?”
He covered the letter with his forearms. He wouldn’t stain the paper again. “Yes? I mean, no.”
“I made dinner,” he informed him. “I came to tell you the food is on the table. Do you remember we have night patrol, right?”
Thomas glanced at the clock on his side. “Damn,” he said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You were too focused and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I completely forgot about patrol,” he scratched the back of his head. 
“You need to eat, hamsaram,” Alastair said, and started walking back to the kitchen. “We have an annoying night ahead of us.”
Thomas could only sigh. He had spent the last few hours trying to come up with something decent, but he always ended up throwing the paper away. One time, his pen lost too much ink on the sheet again. Another time, he thought that inverting the sentences would be more effective, and discarded that piece only to decide that it was better how he wrote it the first time. 
Now, he only wrote half of it. And they had to go out, which meant he could go back to it tomorrow. Ugh. 
He left the letter on the desk and followed his partner. 
Night patrol ended up better than they expected. They had a minor inconvenience when Laurence Ashdown thought there was a demon lurking around the corner, but it turned out to be just a rat. And that was the highlight of their night, since London was quiet as ever. Perhaps even demons had found a Valentine that night, and were busy celebrating.
After they returned, Thomas wanted to take a bath and then sleep. He needed to eat something first, and Alastair promised that he would get the bath ready. He was sure this would give him the energy to finish his letter. It was barely February 14th, after all. He had time. 
He saw Alastair holding something when he reached the bedroom, and his breath caught. 
“Is it yours?” Alastair asked. 
Thomas bit his lip. “It’s bad,” he sighed. “You shouldn’t have read it. Have you read it? Please, tell me you didn’t.”
“I read it. I thought it was the grocery list. It was so corny, I thought I was going to cry sugar. But Tom,” he grabbed his hand, and kissed his knuckles. “It was beautiful. I loved it.”
“I didn’t even finish it,” he shook his head. “There was a lot I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t have time to write. Why did we have patrol on the night before Valentine’s?”
“It was perfect the way it was, hamsaram,” Alastair chuckled. “You’re also precious to me. You are my home. And I love you.”
“I love you too,” he echoed, and put his arms behind Alastair’s neck. “I didn’t write that in the letter.”
“Yes, but I don’t need you to write it to know. I’ve known for twenty years.”
“We need to celebrate,” Thomas said. “Is there something downstairs? Wine?”
“What did you have in mind?”
He smirked. “Did you draw the bath? We could toast to our love. Relax. Forget about the rest of the world for today.”
“I believe it’s a great idea,” Alastair grinned. “Let me get the champagne.”
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luciehercndale · 8 days
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Happy Birthday @alastairstom !!!🎂💜
I wrote you a little something involving some of your favorite blorbos doing something together and I hope you like it 💜💜💜
“Be quiet, Matthew,” Alastair whispered. “Thomas is asleep.”
Matthew raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to be quiet when I have to stir the dough?”
“Use a quietude rune like I did,” he replied. “I can’t risk him waking up because I’m crushing nuts.”
“He won’t,” he said, and applied the soundless rune on his forearm. “He is a heavy sleeper. He told me as much.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. Thomas could sleep through thunderstorms. “How much time do we need to bake this?”
“Mother’s recipe says sixty minutes,” Matthew glanced at the clock. “Which means we need to put it in the oven in five minutes or you can’t give it to him for breakfast.”
“By the Angel,” Alastair cursed. “Why must nuts be so hard to crush?”
“Cut them into bigger pieces.”
“Thomas doesn’t like big pieces.”
“Why must you be a tough nut to crack, Carstairs?”
“Math –” he looked at the door, trying to hear any sound coming from upstairs. “Stir the dough. We are running out of time.”
“You crush the nuts.”
Alastair frowned at Matthew but didn’t say anything. They didn’t talk much while they waited for the pie to bake, in case Thomas could hear them. Matthew also dozed off on the chair by the table. Not that Alastair needed him anymore at this point, but he wouldn’t just ask him to leave yet. For some reason, he needed moral support until the pie was ready and he knew it was as he expected it to be.
“It looks good from the outside,” Matthew commented a little before seven in the morning. They had just taken the pie out of the oven. “I wonder how it tastes.”
“I am afraid I can’t offer you a slice,” Alastair quickly said. “Can I offer you something else, instead?”
“No, but thank you, Carstairs,” he grinned. “If you don’t need my help anymore, I think I should go. Wouldn’t want Tom to find me here and ruin the surprise.”
“Next time, then.”
Alastair followed him to the foyer where he took his coat from the rack and put it on. 
“I’m sure the pie is good,” Matthew said. “He will love it. He loves nuts. And he loved my mother’s pie every time he ate it.”
“Thank you for helping me on such a short notice,” Alastair said. “And at night. I was quite desperate.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “That’s what friends do, right?”
“Right,” he managed a smile. 
“Good luck,” he said. “I’ll wish happy birthday to Thomas later. Goodbye, Alastair.”
“Goodbye, Matthew.”
Alastair sighed. It was time. He went to the kitchen to retrieve the pie and climbed the stairs one at a time. He didn’t want Thomas to hear him but he also didn’t want to slip accidentally and fall and throw the pie he had spent so much time preparing on the wooden floor.
The door was open, just like they liked to leave it. This was their house and they had their privacy. They wanted to live their love out in the open here. They wanted to be free.
Thomas stirred in bed and the first thing he saw was Alastair carrying the cake. 
“You didn’t,” he muttered, his voice sleepy. “You are nuts.”
“About you? I’m quite certain I am,” Alastair offered him a loving smile and sat next to him on the bed. “Happy birthday, hamsaram.”
“Is it…?” he wondered, and he nodded. “You are completely nuts. Put the pie on the nightstand so I can properly kiss you, khoshgelam.”
Alastair did as he was told and kissed his partner vehemently. “Asheghetam,” he said once they stopped, both out of breath. 
“Asheghetam,” echoed Thomas. 
And then they ate the cake.
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luciehercndale · 3 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.
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luciehercndale · 3 months
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At Least The Costume Fits / Thomastair
Another Thomastair Christmas drabble, something @alastairstom requested. Alastair dressing as Santa Claus to surprise Zachary 💜
Words: 495 Rating: G Read on A03
“At least the costume fits,” Thomas said, trying to hide a giggle as he gazed at his partner wearing a Santa Claus costume. “How come this was at the London Institute?”
Alastair looked down at his clothes and grunted. It is for a good cause, he kept telling himself. “Apparently, according to Jesse, this belonged to Will Herondale. He used to wear this for his children and nephews at their annual Christmas party. Don’t you remember, Tom?”
Thomas scratched the back of his head. “Honestly,” he said, “No. I think I would hardly forget it if I had seen it,” he giggled. “Maybe it was around the time I was sick and I rarely left home.”
Alastair nodded and thought about the odds of finding himself in Will Herondale’s Santa costume. “Can you fix my beard?” he turned his head to his partner, who was still appraising his look. “By the angel, it’s itchy.” 
“That’s because you are moving,” Thomas asserted. “Be still.” He tried to adjust the white cloud of wool the best he could. When he was done, he cupped Alastair’s face between his palms and grinned widely. 
“Do I look like an idiot?” Alastair wondered, his forehead creasing. 
He brushed his lips quickly over his. “You look like a good older brother,” he said. “He’s going to be so happy when he sees you.”
“Or scared for the rest of his life,” he sneered. “Come on.”
They trudged silently through the narrow corridors of Cirenworth headed to Zachary’s room. His family had planned to stay in Cornwall Gardens, but Zachary fell ill and his mother didn’t want to risk it. Thomas suggested they visit Devon instead, and surprise his little brother by dressing as Santa Claus. 
Thomas brushed his back to encourage him. He opened the door, while Alastair stayed by the wall. “Hi, Zachary. Someone is here to see you. Do you want to meet him?”
Thomas gestured to Alastair to get in. His steps were slow. He was impersonating an old man, after all. Or was trying to.
“Do you know about Santa Claus?” he asked, kneeling by the bed.
“Yes! You told me about him,” he said, and Alastair huffed behind his fake beard. Smart kid.
“I came from the North Pole just for you,” he continued. “Just to give you this.”
Zachary grabbed the box with the toy and opened it. “I like it,” he said giddily. “Thank you, Alastair. I love you.”
“I’m not –” he began, but the child was distracted by the toy. “I’m glad you liked it,” he passed a hand through his hair. His forehead wasn’t too warm, and it was a good sign. “I love you too.”
His brother gazed up at him. “Can you stay with me?” 
“As long as you want, Zachary,” he smiled. “Ho, ho, ho,” he imitated Santa’s laugh.
Thomas and Zachary laughed in response. Alastair still felt embarrassed, but at least he had made his little brother happy.
***
I feel like Will Herondale totally used to dress up as Santa to play with his children and nephews. Someday he's going to pass this tradition down to someone else, but that's material for another story. ;)
I hope you like this <3 I wanted to write more, but I wanted to keep the drabble length.
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luciehercndale · 5 months
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Three Years and Counting - Lucie and Jesse
My entry for @ghostwriterfest <3 Set a few years after canon. Lucie and Jesse go on a date to celebrate their relationship milestone and remember the first time they kissed. Mostly fluff, but with a little hurt/comfort. Rating: T Read on A03 💜
Lucie fixed her hat one last time and took her bag from the desk, before storming out of her room, the sound of her heels echoing on the limestone floor. She was excited and probably late. As she walked briskly to the stairs leading to the main entrance, she couldn’t help but smile. She knew he was already waiting by the door by now, citing the excuse that it didn’t take long for him to get ready to go out, unlike her. But she knew he was just as thrilled to be alone with her as she was.
She knew she was right when reached the staircase, and saw him from the gallery above. He had his back to her, and he was talking to her brother. Lucie wasn’t sure when James had arrived. He probably needed to talk to their father, but she wasn’t sure. However, she did not care. She began descending the stairs, and that was when Jesse finally turned, interrupting whatever he was saying to James. Their eyes met, and he grinned at her. Lucie exchanged the grin, and she didn’t stop glancing at her boyfriend until she was next to him. She loved him so much, and she knew he loved her too. “Hello, James,” she chirped. “Are you going out, Lucie?” James asked. “Jesse was just telling me about it.” “Yes,” she answered, grabbing Jesse’s hand. “We are going on a date. We’ll get home late.” “I never asked,” her brother shrugged. “I will tell papa when I see him. I needed to talk to him about next week’s dinner at Cirenworth with Cordelia’s mother.” “Okay, you go on. Say hi to Daisy from me.” James nodded and said goodbye, leaving them alone in the foyer. 
Every year, around the end of November, they had a special date night at the Shadow Market to celebrate the first time they had kissed. They had talked about it, and they both considered that moment to mark the beginning of their relationship. This year, they didn't have much luck with the weather. At least, rain and wind had quieted for that day, thus they took on the chance before the clouds would make it impossible to stroll around London without soaking their clothes. “Were you waiting for a long time?” Lucie asked Jesse. “A half an hour.” he replied with a playful grin. “You’re awfully slow at getting ready.” 
“Oh,” Lucie huffed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away when I had to decide which dress to wear. I wanted the blue one, but then I opted for the emerald green.”
“Green, huh? You’re wearing so much of that as of late.”
Lucie blushed, and gazed up at him. “You’ve noticed,” she replied. “I thought it wouldn’t suit me, but I’ve noticed that it brightens the color of my eyes.” And it’s also the color of your eyes, she wanted to add, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew it, she hoped. They had left the Institute behind and were directed to Southwark. It was a warm evening for November standards, and it wasn’t raining, thus they decided to reach their destination on foot. 
“It does indeed,” Jesse nodded. “But then again, I am biased when it comes to you.” She squeezed his hand, feeling even warmer than before. “You are such a doting boyfriend, and I love you for that. Among other things I like about you, of course.” “And here I thought you only wanted to be with me because I am utterly handsome and apparently, also filthy rich.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jesse Blackthorn,” she rolled her eyes at him and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I only want to be with you because you’re the only one who puts up with my writing,” she joked.
“That’s not true,” he retorted. “Your brother and Cordelia might have stopped giving you feedback because they have been traveling a lot, but your mother and I still read your stories.”
Lucie frowned, but still smiled. “Mam stopped giving me feedback a while ago,” she confessed. “But it’s my fault. You read my most recent writing, you saw how it got more –” “Personal? Yes, I figured it out,” he offered her a smile. “And you didn’t say anything,” she sighed. “Why?” “Well, admittedly, I didn’t catch all the personal references because I know you didn’t just write about you and me,” Jesse explained. “It’s not like when you wrote about Lord Jethro turning into a ghost and I felt a tad offended – maybe too offended,” he chuckled, “because I thought you were humoring me. But that was a clear reference and I was frustrated that I couldn’t really be with you because of the state I was in. Writing is a mix of real and invented, and sometimes, people see themselves in fiction, because fiction borrows from real life.”
“You are not wrong about this,” she said. “The problem is not that, though. I don’t mind my mother or my friends reading stories that they might have inspired. What scares me is being seen. Being known for real. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but even I have things I do not want to share with the world. And I’m afraid they won’t like it.”
“It seems fair,” he conceded as they arrived at their destination. The Shadow Market under London Bridge brimmed with downworlders, and it was a spectacle to see. “That was also the first thing that shocked me when I first met you. Being seen. It was at the same time thrilling and terrifying.” “Because I was the only stranger who could see you?” Jesse squeezed her hand this time, and she caught a shy smile on his face, but he was looking straight ahead. Lucie noticed the faerie stall with magic potions. They were so colorful. “More or less, yes. You weren't a stranger properly because I used to spy on your family a lot,” he said. “I couldn't believe I could talk to you. You were the first older person I could ever talk to who wasn’t dead, and I didn't know if I could handle it.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You really don't know?” He wondered. “You were intimidating, Lucie.”
She giggled. “Bizarre to find out after years that I scared you when we first met. Perhaps I was uglier than I thought.”
“Yes, you were so ugly, you scared me to death,” he chuckled. “No, wait. I was already dead.”
“Are you dead serious?” They exchanged a glance and laughed together. This was one thing she liked about being with Jesse. She could joke with him and he would humor her back. It was comforting being silly with someone.
He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Perhaps I’m with you just because of your connections, Lucie. Have you ever thought about that?”
She rolled her eyes. “We are here,” she called, and tried to drag him to the spot they both remembered well. “Over there,” she added, hoping he had heard her over the noise. The crowd in this area of the Market was thick, and it made it impossible for them to walk side by side. Lucie tightened the hold on Jesse’s hand and led the way. She had noticed a spot with no stalls right under the bridge where the train passed overhead, and she meant to take him there, where they could stop and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Lucie saw two vampires discussing with a faerie who didn’t want to lower the price of some concoction. This probably distracted her, because when she turned towards the path out of the crowded street, someone almost crashed into her. “Apologies, sweet lady,” the man said, his voice eerie. He was dressed as a clown, and she was startled for a second. Not because of his clothes, but because she hadn’t seen him coming. She sighed, but still replied: “no problem,” but he had already left. She turned to Jesse to check on him. He tightened his grip on her hand, and she assumed he had been equally surprised by the clown barreling into them. She frowned when she saw him. He was paler than usual, and even in the dim lights of the Shadow Market, she could see that there was something wrong with him. A drop of sweat fell on the side of his face, and that alarmed her. It was too cold for him to be sweating, unless –
They were almost out of the crowded street, and she could see a way out. She pulled him into the empty space she had eyed before and he followed her without uttering a word. She heaved a sigh once they were out of the grasp of the crowd, and eased him to lean his back on the stone wall.
“Jesse,” she muttered, alarmed, cradling his face in her hands. His breath was labored, and this worried her even more. She thought someone in the crowd might have hurt him. “What –” she began, but he put his hand over hers and she squeezed it. It was icy cold, and it trembled in hers. She caressed his cheek and he glanced at her with a frightened look. “You are safe. No one is going to hurt you here. I will protect you.” It wasn’t a lie. Lucie wasn’t that tall, but she could fight, if she needed to. She didn’t think she would need to fend off any demons, aside from the ones from a past she wasn’t aware of. She asked him to breathe in and breathe out, remembering another episode in the past where he had a similar reaction, until color returned to Jesse’s cheeks and he wasn’t gasping anymore. 
He offered her a weak smile, and held on her hip for balance. It was enough for her, who could only sigh. “The one who bumped into you,” he said at last, “it was a clown.”
It was Lucie’s turn to gasp now. How could she forget? “I’m sorry, Jesse. I should’ve seen him coming.”
“He came out of nowhere, you could not,” he quickly replied. “It’s fine now, I just needed to take a breath. Thank you for taking me here.” She nodded and bit her lip, not letting go of his hand. “Are you okay?” “Yes, way better,” he assured her. “At last, we are where we intended to arrive.” “Was this the spot?” Lucie wondered, and frowned at the noise of the train passing nearby. “I wish the market wasn’t so crowded. I could have run after that clown and hit him with my hat.” “It wasn’t worth it,” he shook his head. “We can leave if you want, but I’d rather not. We have a tradition to uphold.” It had turned into a tradition to have a date at the Shadow Market, and they made it there despite the last unwanted encounter. 
“Are you sure?” she asked again, but she could see that he was better. “Then let’s make the best of it.”
She knew what came next, and put her arms around him. Jesse carried her face in his hands and she tipped her chin up so he could have easy access to her lips. This wasn’t like the first time. Their first kiss had been urgent, because they were both afraid it could’ve been their last, and they had wanted to savor it until the end. But it had also been shy, because neither of them had known how to do it properly. Later, they had confessed to each other that it had been their first kiss, and Lucie couldn’t have been happier. They were going to be each other’s firsts in so many things, and this made their relationship even more meaningful to them. This kiss held the passion and love they felt for each other but it was not rushed. They knew they had all the time in the world, and they kissed each other until their lips were swollen and sore, and their cheeks had turned red because of the heat. “Three years and counting?” she wondered, out of breath, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Here’s to many more,” he answered, and he sealed their anniversary and their promise of love with another kiss.
*
Thanks for reading <3 I wanted to write this for a long time, and I saw a post where I was reminded that in CoT Jesse says that he is scared of clowns and of stripes. I wanted this to go differently and include this bit too, but this week was too hectic and I had a hard time finding the will to write and to get inspired. This fic meant to be fluffy and soft, despite the hurt/comfort. I love when the fmc comforts the mc, and I have one more fic where Lucie takes care of Jesse. I will probably post it sooner or later. For the moment, you enjoyed this. <3
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luciehercndale · 5 months
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The Scent of the Night - Kell and Lila
No spoilers for Threads of Power in this fic. It is meant to happen post A Conjuring of Light but before the events of TOP. While the ship is docked at a small city port, Lila finds herself riddled with thoughts about Kell, and how they still haven't found a way to help him with his magic. Rating: T Read on A03 💙
Lila sighed, and her breath came out in puffs. 
It was a cold night, probably the coldest ever since they left Tanek, and she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even want to get warmer with magic. Shrugging herself deeper into her coat, she gazed at the dock where they moored a day prior. Her gaze longed to see activity, an immediate way to distract her thoughts, but to no avail. This could be the quietest or the busiest moment at a harbor, and regrettably for Lila, this place preferred to be asleep at night, its people safely tucked into their beds. As I should, probably, she thought, and managed a mocking smile.
Lila knew she should probably head downstairs to her quarters, and try to sleep it off. To forget for a few hours about it all. About his pain, his suffering – If it wasn’t this late, she could have had a few drinks by herself. But if the docks were empty of souls, what luck could she have to find a tavern that still accepted customers? What a bore.
She knew that she needed movement. She could have roamed the entirety of the ship and waited for tiredness to come, but she didn’t want to wake the crew, nor Kell. She hadn’t heard him at all when she passed his cabin, and she was confident he was sleeping. 
She needed to go. Benefit from the drowsiness of her traveling companions and draw herself away from the stillness of the ship. At least for the night. 
God, I can’t wait to set out to sea the next morning, she thought. She didn’t like being stuck in the same place for long, especially when it was unfruitful. The only way to cope with the urge to change the setting was to take a break from everything for a few minutes, or hours. 
She was by herself on the prow of her ship, but it wasn’t enough. The crew was still below deck. He was still below deck, within reach. On another day, she would have climbed into bed with him and let him hold her. That night, however, she felt like she needed space to run from her thoughts about him, so she ran into the night, and it welcomed her with open arms.
There was something so calming yet so eerie about a city drowned in sleep. The lack of noise helped to think and to relax, or to hear a thief’s footsteps more clearly. It was also a foe. As Lila walked through the silent streets, she tried not to let it bother her. She watched the closed stalls and the dark houses and she began to imagine who must be living there, and what they did for a living. How did they solve their mundane problems?
She felt like a ghost haunting the town, the chill of winter seemed to engulf the city differently from the ship, because the buildings were a shield, she supposed. They felt homely, while the dock was open to the cold wind. Lila felt a little warmer within the narrow alleys. For a while, it seemed like the change of setting was helping dull her mind. Her own fantasy about who roamed these streets during the day was a ploy to divert her attention, until it wasn’t anymore.
She felt the tears before she realized she was crying. They left a trail of iciness on her face, which jolted her back to the issue, back to reality, back to the thing she was running from. Back to – she stopped in her tracks and listened. Breathed in the air of the small port city, and what hit her nostrils wasn’t the crisp tang of winter, a signal of void and absence. 
The night smelled like flowers, and Lila closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, inhaling the familiar scent, letting it engulf her bones, but she kept walking as if it was nothing. 
It didn’t last long, though, and soon, she stopped again. The tears still ran freely onto her cheeks, and she sucked in a breath trying to get a grip on herself. Tried to hide the evidence before her mood would be known to the world. To him.
Lila told herself to keep walking, to pretend. The city might be tiny, but there were still so many paths to explore. Like there were many unexplored places where they could find a cure. 
She decided to ignore the scent, but how could she? 
It was all over her, grazing parts of herself she thought were long sealed and dead. That gracious smell found ways to slip into her, it made her believe that she wasn’t alone, and that she was worth loving. That she was loved. It clung to her skin and to her clothes. It ignored the thorns that she had tended for years, it ripped them apart. Let new blossoms of different colors bloom inside of her. It gave her a new reason to live, and to die for. Her flower boy.
Right now, she knew that she was dying for him to be alright, and it ripped her apart. Yet, he was one of the few reasons to keep trying. To resist. To stop running. To open up. Yet, the first thing she said to him was: “I can handle myself.”
She heard a soft chuckle behind her, but she did not turn. “Trust me, I know.”
“Then why are you here?” she blurted out, flinching. Not because of the cold. She knew she was bracing for his answer. Afraid, she realized with time, that he would say something that would make her love him even more. Loving someone was a desperate business, and it hurt tenfold compared to a knife fight. “I can handle myself,” she repeated, trying not to stutter. 
Steps. He advanced and got close to her. She could feel his breath on her neck, stronger now that he was right behind her. It instantly calmed her down, made her feel less lonely. She didn’t move. 
“You didn’t return to your cabin and I was worried,” he whispered, his voice genuinely concerned. 
“So you followed me,” she rasped, but it came out weak. “As you can see, I’m all in one piece. You can go back to the ship.”
“Lila, don’t,” he pleaded, and she wasn’t sure if he meant ‘I don’t want to go back’ or ‘don’t lie’. 
“What else is there?” she wondered, clenching her hands instinctively. A way to prepare for the blow, whatever that was. Damn, she was so stupid. 
“You’re in a mood,” he said. 
“I’m in a mood,” she echoed, without agreeing or disagreeing. “So you followed me to quell my anger, that’s it? Well, for your information, there’s nothing you can do about it,” she seethed, while inside of her she screamed to herself: Lies. Lies. You’re lying, Lila. Lies. 
“Would you stop?” he inquired, and turned her body toward his. Now they were facing each other, and Lila couldn’t help but gaze up at him, even if it meant that he would see. He opened his mouth slightly, newfound concern and fondness glinting in his mismatched eyes. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, and his fingers were warm. “Lila,” he whispered lovingly, embracing her without asking for answers. And she let him. 
Even his body was unlikely warm in the freezing night, but it was probably because of his magical coat. She envied him for it at times, but she would never trade the coat if it meant losing Kell’s warmth. And right now, he was like fire lighting her match. 
He didn’t say anything, but his doting affection and care, his muscular arms cradling her head and her back, the way he made her feel protected even though she knew how to take care of herself – they told her everything she needed to know. So she leaned into him, letting the tears come freely. Letting him, the center of her thoughts, console her. Because he was also the cure.
“I’m preoccupied,” she said later, when they were returning to the ship, holding each other’s hands. And angry and powerless, she wanted to add, but that was clear.
Kell nodded. “What for?” he asked quietly, and this time she felt like sharing her thoughts.
She bit her lip. “You,” she confessed, and he sighed. 
“You shouldn’t,” he answered quickly, offering her a smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes, and Lila had learned how to read him. Sometimes, they were so alike. “I probably just need to rest my magic for a while,” he added somberly. “I’m sure it will come back soon.”
“What if it doesn’t,” she voiced her thoughts. “What if you need someone’s help?”
“I doubt someone can help my case, if not myself,” he said, eyes glancing at the road before them. They almost reached the docks. 
Lila rolled her eyes. In this too, they mirrored each other. “Kell,” she squeezed his hand, and he turned to her. “What if we find somebody who can help you?”
“I said, there’s no –”
“Don’t be stubborn,” she halted. “This world is a big place, and we still haven’t seen everything. There must be someone or something out there that can fix your magic. And I’m not stopping until I find them.”
“Don’t waste your time on something so trivial,” Kell replied, and kept walking, but she was sure she had hit a nerve and he was trying to pretend not to be bothered by this issue.
“Trivial?” God, she wanted to punch him in the guts. Idiot. “I wish I could fix you with my magic,” she whispered, reaching him. 
She took his hand again, and he kissed her knuckles. Sometimes she forgot he was also a prince. The gesture made her blush, and she could tell it was his way to shut the argument. He was done talking about it because she knew it hurt him, and he probably didn’t want to make it her problem. But she couldn’t look away. 
I care about you, idiot, she wanted to tell him. And it pains me to see you suffer like this. I wish I knew how to help you.
Give it to Kell for being stubborn. Then again, wasn’t she equally stubborn for wanting to find a way to fix his magic even if he was convinced that they didn’t need to? Wasn’t that also a form of head-headedness? Probably.
Unlike him, who seemed to have already accepted his fate without question, Lila would not go down without a fight. She would not give up the search for whatever could fix Kell. They had a world to explore, and the whole time in the world to do it. And they had each other. She would not give up on him.
When they finally reached the docks, it was dawn, and sailors were bustling about with boxes and other things. They stopped in front of her ship, but Lila stopped Kell before he could go aboard and gave him a heated kiss. 
“What was that for?” he asked, breathless and red-faced.
“For luck,” she whispered with a smirk. Not that we need it, she added in her mind, and she wondered if he had caught the reference. If he remembered.
Kell smiled in acknowledgement, and stretched out his arm. “After you.”
Lila giggled softly, and dragged him aboard, his flower scent enveloping the ship with the smell of home and hope.
*
Glad you made it here <3
My intention with this fic was to write angsty Lila and angsty Kell comforting each other, a way to emphasize on how they are there to support each other and would literally die for each other. Kell prefers to nurse his problems alone, and Lila gives him space because she knows he is a proud prince and he thinks he must solve this problem by himself. It obviously hurts her to see him in pain when he uses his power, and she feels even more helpless because she wants to find a way to fix his magic and she still hasn't. So the point was to show how deeply this is affecting Lila and how she handles when the person she loves is having a hard time. But also how comfortable and intimate and familiar traveling with him on the ship is, and she wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.
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luciehercndale · 2 months
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Kell/Lila - I Left Myself In The Alleyway
While Lila and Kell are in Grey London for an errand, she runs into her father by chance. At last, she caught the source of her uneasiness. There he was, the culprit. He stood at the counter with a glass in his hand. Surveying. She hadn’t forgotten that face. How could she, when she looked so much like him?
The title is from "Alleyways" by The Neighbourhood. https://youtu.be/qVwckL8Q3_Y?si=UTfUueBKm47jaHDW
I knew another fic won the poll, but I was carried away and finished this in the meantime, so I'm posting it. :) Don't worry, you'll get the story that won the poll soon. I hope you enjoy this one. 💜
Rating: T Words: 2,372 Check the link for the tw.
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luciehercndale · 11 months
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TSC Analysis: Will and Tessa's behavior towards James and Lucie's partners
Tonight I'll talk about a topic that personally interests me a lot and that, I don't know, may interest other people? I hope. Parents and their relationship with their in-laws. It was inspired by a poll about who was Will's favorite kid, lol. It got me thinking about Will and Tessa's "kids", and specifically, about Cordelia and Jesse, who are part of their extended family by this point. This analysis is about how Will and Tessa view Cordelia and Jesse as their children's partners and how they interacted with them in TLH. Did they trust them instantly? Did they like them? Are they close? Things that I often asked myself and I thought I'd share with you hoping you're interested because this took me hours to write 😅
Will trusts his children's judgement when it comes to Cordelia and Jesse, but naturally, he also has opinions about them, and we saw them in the way he interacted with both. Cordelia (and James) lied about their marriage, but since he never knew about the sham, he never doubted her. Will was overjoyed with the news that James was going to marry a Carstairs, Jem's cousin no less, and gave her his blessing. To him, Cordelia was already family, and he loved her already and trusted her. Wessa trusted Cordelia but she was actually lying to them about her marriage to James.
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Will was distrustful towards Jesse at first, because he had been possessed. He accepted him after he discovered what he did for James. Sacrificing his last breath for his son was enough 'proof' that Jesse didn't have ill intentions towards his family. In London, Jesse acted like a proper boyfriend towards Lucie, but he also was well-mannered with Wessa, he helped around the Institute; Will never once thought his trust had been misplaced. Unlike Cordelia, Jesse had to earn Will's trust. By the end of the story, Will considers Jesse like family, that's why he gave him the home mark and the stele which belonged to his father. This is very symbolic. Will officially welcomed Jesse in the family even though he's not married to Lucie yet (so this was sort of a blessing from Will to Lucie and Jesse) and probably a promise about Jesse's own future in the London Institute.
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Will is very sentimental: he accepted Cordelia instantly because she was a Carstairs, unaware that Jordelia lied about their marriage at first. Will is also very practical: he accepted Jesse not because of his last name, but for the way he behaved, for his practical actions. Wessa considered Cordelia like a daughter, because of who she was. They loved her already, and she needn't do anything for them to like her, or to earn their trust (which she very much broke when she and James lied to them). Jesse was the son of the villain and won Wessa's heart over by showing them he was a person they could rely on. This also meant being a well-mannered guy around their daughter and be transparent, for the sake of the future he wants to have with her.
Tessa also trusts Lucie and James's judgement. It's very easy to win Tessa over. She is a great judge of character and very hopeful and tries to trust people even though they did bad things (she was the only one who believed there was still hope to save Tatiana, uhm). She knows how to read people, and I bet she is very good at figuring body language too and understand whether someone is uncomfortable, lying, needs advice, etc. Not that Will isn't, but he lets his emotions cloud his judgement at times, and he can be impulsive and act rashly, then later rationalize and change his mind if he needs to. Tessa is more rational than Will and more controlled in her reactions (if you think that when Will sees Jesse for the first time, he literally takes a blade to threaten him, duh!).
Tessa seems quieter than Will, but she's not. She pays attention a lot and seems to be very helpful in making people feel at ease or more positive and hopeful about a situation. She's very attentive. When talking about Cordelia and Jesse to Lucie and James, she first comments about their outward appearance. Soon, though, she gives insight about their inner world, what not many people bother to see when they interact with pretty people. Tessa understands the struggles Cordelia and Jesse are going through, and is ready to offer them support when she feels they need it.
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Cordelia felt very uneasy during her engagement party with James, the moment when she was officially introduced to their society as James' future wife and the Herondale's future in law/family member. Tessa helped her feel more confident. She was able to understand Cordelia because she is also a woman who is often whispered-about by the people in the Clave, and her father is also someone very questionable. Before Jordelia's marriage, she also advised James that even though Cordelia was a strong woman, the matter with her father bothered her a lot because it was complicated. Hence, Will also advised James to be a good husband and support Cordelia.
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Tessa's situation with Jesse is quite similar, but the conversation happens in private during a dinner, where Jesse is already inserted into the Herondale's family dynamics as if he was already one of them. Will had just received the call that Tatiana was in Cornwall. This whole situation upsets Jesse, because his relationship with his mother was complicated. Tessa sensed it, and tried to give him hope. Something any good mother would say, if they see their son looking lost and hopeless. Lucie wanted to go after Jesse to support him but Tessa advised against it and suggested she gave him time to be alone.
In both instances, it's James who notices Jesse's shocked reaction to the fatherly/motherly way in which Will and Tessa interact with him. He doesn't just recognize how Jesse grew up in a very different environment than he did (dead father, problematic mother), but also that his parents were and are good parents to him and Lucie. They were always supportive of him and his sister, and they received a lot of love. And Wessa's love and support is not limited to James and Lucie only, they also show love and support to their family and friends, and to even to people they barely know.
Closing remarks: I believe that Wessa like Cordelia and Jesse very much as James and Lucie's partners, of course, and they welcomed them with open arms in their family. Because of the circumstances, though, the end of TLH it seems to hint that Wessa (and especially Will's) relationship with Jesse is going to be tighter than the one with Cordelia. It's not a matter of preference between their in-laws, who I think they equally like, but a matter of proximity. James and Cordelia got married, and they now live in a separate house. They are in a new "cycle" in their life where, as a couple, they started their own life and they separated from their birth parent's house. This means they may spend less time around Wessa because they're going to have their life in their own house, and when they have children and they will get married, it will happen the same thing. They're just following a life cycle. Things are different for Lucie and Jesse. They still live under Wessa's roof, and Jesse helps Wessa doing things around the Institute, eats with them, does stuff with them most likely. If my theory about Jesse running the London Institute in the future turns real, it is highly likely and natural that Wessa and especially Will, will strengthen their relationship with Jesse.
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luciehercndale · 5 months
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The Element of Surprise - Matthtober 2023
Hi all! A little late, but here's my entry fic for @matthtober-2023 💙 It is Matthew's POV of the Thomastair fic where they have to dogsit Oscar. We see where Matthew went and who he met in Paris and there's a bit of Thomastair and Matthew and Alastair banter in this fic.
“There you are. I was worried you’d forgotten,” Matthew chirped at the two people outside his apartment door, not bothering to let them in. “I’m quite late for the train,” he added. “I thought I said nine, and it’s past nine –” 
“You said half past nine, Fairchild,” Alastair argued. “Well, according to my clock, it is ten minutes after nine. We are on time.”
Matthew shrugged nonchalantly and grabbed his luggage with one hand and his dog Oscar with the other. “If you say so.”
“I’m not saying so, the clock is saying so,” Alastair said. “And you said so in your three fire messages. Too bad I’ve thrown them into the fire, or I would’ve showed you the evidence.”
“I didn’t know you paid attention while I talked.”
Alastair raised his eyebrows and sighed. He was about to reply to Matthew, but Thomas interjected. “Come on, you’ll lose the train if you keep arguing about the time,” he patted Matthew’s shoulder, and he finally went out of his apartment, passing in between his friends with his dog on a leather leash.
Thomas and Alastair looked at each other, and followed him outside. The air was crisp, the street still bore the signs of the storm that had bothered the city the night before. Matthew stopped in front of a hansom cab and told the driver to wait, and turned to his dog.
“Oscar. Your father is going to Paris for a few days,” he cooed. “Unfortunately, I can’t take you with me, because Angel forbid dogs can’t attend fashion shows.” Alastair grumbled in the background, said something like “I thought you were late,” but Matthew ignored him. “So I have to leave you with these handsome chaps. You know them both. There is Thomas, who is your friend already. And there’s Alastair,” he took a pause, “who might be your friend. Do not ruin his carpets if you don’t like him, but you can totally eat his ties –”
“Matthew,” Alastair said gravely. “Give me the dog and leave.”
Matthew smiled at his dog and then he turned to his friends. “See, Oscar? Alastair is already brimming with excitement to take you out and clean after you do your business.”
Alastair rolled his eyes as Matthew finally passed the leash to him. Oscar observed Alastair and smelled his pants, then turned to his owner when he greeted them one last time and got into the cab. 
Matthew didn’t like to leave Oscar, but he knew that at least the dog would stay with people he trusted. Yes, even Carstairs. To an outsider they may look like a cat and a dog not getting along, but it was just a farce. He knew Oscar would have fun.
The train to Paris was delayed, and Matthew found himself in the city of lights a few hours later than planned. He couldn’t attend the first salon show he had booked because of this, but never mind. There was more than one show. He couldn’t complain to anyone, though, because this city was always in a rush, and people seemed annoyed by small talk. Time was money.
Time was precious indeed, and Matthew had to change his suit as soon as he entered his lavish room at the hotel where he was staying, because he didn’t want to smell like the train. He eventually made it to the Palace of Versailles where the second event was going to happen. This one, unlike the others, featured a fashion show with models. It was a smart way to let the customers see all the looks and then see in detail those that caught their eye.
Matthew walked briskly to his front seat with a brochure in hand, but instead of reading the program, he used it to fan himself. 
“Quite different from London, right?”
In the time Matthew turned his blonde waves toward the voice who had just spoken, he realized to whom it belonged. “Must be the position,” he offered the woman a pleased grin. “We are more South after all. Maybe the perturbation that worried our country last night will head here next.”
“It would be hilarious if it did,” she said, exchanging smiles. “One of the shows I have to attend is in an Italian garden. Imagine the rain falling suddenly and drenching the poor posh people who came from everywhere just to buy clothes.”
“I would like to see that,” Matthew laughed softly. “I never thought we would be meeting here.”
“Esme, the name is Esme,” she blurted cheerfully. “I did. I know you like fashion.”
Matthew nodded. “Yes, I do remember you, Esme,” he replied. “We often frequent the same circles, you see. And now even fashion circles. Out of my friends, only Anna likes fashion. Ah, and probably Alastair,” he sighed. “But they are so boring when it comes to clothes. They do not go out of their black comfort zone.”
Esme smiled again, and she blushed. “I never thought you paid attention to me,” she mumbled, moving her gaze to the guests who were searching for a seat. “I wouldn’t consider myself part of a fashion circle, not at all.”
“Then are you here out of curiosity? Paris is one of the pillars of women’s fashion, after all.”
“I’m here because of my mother,” she explained. “You see, this seat was hers. She had another event she had to attend, but didn’t want to waste the opportunity to take a peek into the new trends.”
“Oh, so she sent you in her stead. Clever.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “She also told me to order the gowns I think are good for her, but I…”
“I remember your mother,” Matthew said. “I could help you, if you want? And maybe suggest something you can order for yourself.”
Esme’s smile widened, and the pink on her cheeks deepened. “Yes, I would love that.”
Matthew exchanged the grin, and the conversation quieted because the orchestra had just started playing. The show was about to begin.
A few days later, Matthew was exhausted even if he didn’t do much aside from examining and choosing new suits and ties and shoes to add to his wardrobe. Picking out fashion items was tiring, but it was fun, especially when you weren’t alone. 
He ended up meeting Esme Hardcastle at every other show he had booked, and the two resorted to spending time together because they both came by themselves. Matthew didn’t mind being alone, because he could always find company if he desired. But being with someone he knew, even if barely, was better. Somehow, it made him more comfortable when he was traveling. It was like having a piece of your home country with yourself. 
He had to admit, Esme was a cheerful and bright woman. She liked to talk about different topics, but she enjoyed it when people inquired about her family tree project. 
“How should I write you on the family tree?” she had asked him. 
“Just write my name and surname? I’m too young to think about marriage,” he chuckled.
“I never mentioned marriage.”
“No, but you told me you asked people about their plans. Whether they will get married soon, whether they have kids,” he had shrugged. “I don’t plan on either of those things,” he smiled. “At least for the time being.”
“You’re a dog dad,” she nodded and scribbled something on her notebook. “Noted.”
Matthew thought Esme was disappointed, but he never had time to ask her because the day after he went back to London. He was sure they would have chances to speak again. 
As he thought about what he did with Esme during those days, he decided to get Oscar from Cornwall Gardens on the way back from the station. For some reason, her last words to him stuck. She had called him dog dad, and he knew it was true. He sent a fire message to Thomas to make sure they were home, so he could embrace his dog.  
“I thought you were in Paris,” Thomas answered the door. “I mean, I thought you would be back tomorrow morning.”
“They canceled a show due to the bad weather,” he explained, letting himself in. “How did it go? Was Oscar good?”
“I believe you’ll have to see for yourself,” Thomas said. 
“What? Did he break a vase? Did he tear one of Alastair’s shirts apart?”
Thomas led him to the living room. “Even better,” he lowered his voice as he opened the door. 
Matthew frowned, wondering what Oscar could’ve done, until he saw the scene. Oscar was perched on the sofa, sleeping quietly. This wouldn’t have been weird at all, but what made Matthew gasp in surprise was on who Oscar was leaning. His head was on Alastair’s leg, and he was resting as well, one hand on the dog’s back. But he wasn’t jealous, just amused.
“What in the world,” he muttered. “Oscar!” he called, and the dog instantly raised his head and left the sofa to come to him, flapping his tail happily. “Yes, yes, I missed you too,” he stroked his fur.
“You are early,” Alastair grunted from the sofa, rubbing his sleepy eyes. 
“I believe in the element of surprise,” Matthew declared. “And perhaps you do too.”
“Well, I don’t, but what can I do?” he scoffed, but he was grinning. “Is it really shocking that Oscar likes me?”
Matthew shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “I might leave Oscar here more often.”
“He’s welcome to sleep on my leg whenever he wants,” Alastair admitted, and Oscar barked. “I do think he agrees.”
“Did you meet someone interesting in France?” Thomas wondered, and Matthew’s mind went back to Esme.
“You wouldn’t believe…” he began, and he told them about his Parisian experience. He would send a fire message to Esme, at least to see if she returned home safely. But not today, tomorrow. Today he would be a dog dad and spend the remaining time of the day with Oscar.
*
This story is called "element of surprise" because Matthew is surprised of finding Esme in Paris and getting along with her but at the same time, he's amused that Oscar likes Alastair so much. I hope you can tell that Matthew and Alastair are joking, they like to banter like that. lol.
Also: fashion shows/weeks in Paris as we know them weren't a thing until the 1970's, but bear with me. I do believe there might have been fashion expositions where rich people like Matthew would go check the new trends
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luciehercndale · 3 months
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Getting Acquainted With Santa / Wessa (+ little Lucie and James)
Will dresses as Santa Claus to surprise little James and Lucie, but someone may be scared of Santa ;) Set around Christmas 1888. I just love writing about Wessa when their kids are little.
I may have one more idea involving some of the characters in this fic set on Christmas but in the future, but we'll see if I can write it. Also, if you have requests, please send them to me.
Words: 971 Rating: T Read on A03 💜
Will bought the costume in a shop downtown without thinking, and he first showed it to his wife.
“You’re not thinking about –” Tessa said, looking at the red and white cloth with a frown. “For the Christmas party?”
He nodded. “The children will love it,” he replied giddily. “Or would you rather I dress as Mari Lwyd? You don’t seem too sure, Tess.”
She just shrugged and managed a tight smile. “I don’t want them to be scared so young.”
“By Santa Claus?” Will frowned, and put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Is there something I should know?”
Tessa sighed, and covered her face with her hands for a moment. “When I was six or seven,” she began, “I was deeply frightened by Kris Kringle. I was with my aunt, and it was one of those rare occasions she allowed me to go out with her. I had never seen Santa, and you can imagine my shock when he appeared out of nowhere and asked me which gift I wanted for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry, Tess,” he caressed her shoulder. “I should’ve asked you first. Maybe I should really dress as Mari Lwyd, then. They also know about her.”
“Please, no,” she laughed. “I can get acquainted with Santa. Perhaps if you wear that costume in front of me, my fear could subside. I could associate you with it, and thus face my fear.”
“Do you think it could work? I don’t want to startle you, my dear,” he squeezed her hand. 
“Let’s try it now,” she tilted her head to the side. “While the children are still asleep.”
Will smirked. “I’ve got the feeling you will want to remove the costume real quick.”
“Well,” she teased. “Let’s see if you are right.”
In the end, they were right. Seeing her husband dressing – and undressing – as Santa reframed Tessa’s childhood memory after a while. He didn’t frighten her anymore. If any, he looked –
“Amazing,” she commented, fixing his jacket. “You’re all set, Will.”
“Santa Claus is coming to town!” he exclaimed, and Tessa couldn’t help but laugh.
She went to the nursery to get Lucie and James, who were one and two respectively, and took them to the drawing room. They agreed that it was better to dress as Santa in front of them first. Tessa thought they should ask their friends if it was okay for Will to surprise the other children, since one of them could be scared like she used to be. 
Tessa sat on the rug. Lucie sat on her lap, while James sat beside her. When Will entered the room and chanted, they both looked up. 
“Hello, James and Lucie,” Will chirped, and sat on the rug. “How are you?” Tessa frowned at her husband. “What? It’s friendly,” he muttered. “I am Santa Claus, an old friend of your papa’s.”
James glanced at his mother. He was a little shy, and Tessa smiled to encourage him. 
“Good,” he said quietly. 
“Do you want to sit here with Santa, James? You can tell me what you want for Christmas,” Will wondered, and opened his welcoming arms. 
James hesitated at first, and looked at his mother again. “Go,” she told him, and that seemed to put him at ease. “It is fine.”
Will and Tessa’s first born son sat on his leg. “Yes, Jamie, you are safe with me. I’ve known your papa for a long time, and granted a lot of his wishes,” he explained. “Let’s hear what you wish for Christmas. I can make it come true.” James bit his lip but then he whispered something into his father’s ear. Will smiled when he was done, and looked at his wife. She also seemed pleased. “Only that? Okay, let’s see what Santa can do,” he kissed his boy’s hair, and he ran back into his mother’s arms. “Lucie’s turn.”
“Do you want to sit on Santa’s leg too, Lucie?” Tessa asked her youngest child, who observed the intruder curiously. She stretched her arms out and her father picked her up without a fuss. “This was easy,” she told Will with a knowing grin. 
Lucie was less wary about the world compared to her older brother. Will often said she reminded me of him when he was little, while Tessa agreed that James was more like her. Their children seemed the perfect blending of their attitudes, even though they were still too young so this could likely change someday.
Lucie grabbed his fake beard, which she found fluffy. “Do you like this?” he inquired softly, and she bobbed her head, and it looked like a nod to him. “Later, cariad. Later,” he said, but his daughter tugged at the white wool too much that it fell off his face. “Oops,” Will muttered, and Tessa covered her mouth with her hand to hide a laugh. 
“Pa,” Lucie touched her father’s face with her tiny hand, and their eyes met. “Pa!”
“What did you say, little one?”
“Pa,” she repeated. It was the first time she had uttered that word. Will and Tessa melt just like they did when James said it a few months before.
“Papa,” James echoed from Tessa’s lap, and he ran to Will’s other side. “Papa!”
Will and Tessa exchanged a quick glance and smiled at each other. “Yes, that’s your papa Claus here,” he hugged his children. “Can papa get a kiss from you?” he offered his cheek, and James kissed him first. He put a finger on his face and Lucie also gave him a kiss. 
“Can I also kiss papa Claus?” Tessa wondered. 
“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” Will said. “Considering how fond of him you’ve become.”
Tessa rolled her eyes and kissed him, and sat down next to him on the rug, basking in the happiness of her beloved family.
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luciehercndale · 9 months
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Ooh okay CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE GIRL you deserve it! If you're still taking requests, might I ask for a Matthew + Alastair friendship fic of some kind? ❤️
Thanks 💜 I really tried to make it cool and funny and there is also Thomastair at the end. I hope you like it ✨
Read on A03
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
Alastair knew he shouldn’t have asked for Matthew’s help, but he was desperate. As the second anniversary with his beloved Thomas was close, he was out of ideas, something he did not like nor wished on his worst enemy or least favorable acquaintance. Not even on Matthew, decidedly, who he had never once thought as a foe but not as a friend either. 
He checked his pocket watch. The clock had just struck seven in the morning, and he was by the gate of the house he and Thomas had been sharing for five months. He knew that he was the one who was early, and not the other one who was late. 
The evening before they both were at an event at the Townsends, only because their parents had forced them to attend. Matthew’s mother, the Consul, rendered it imperative to go, and so did Gideon Lightwood, who was not blood related to Alastair in any way, yet had been a more fatherly figure to him in the last two years than his father had ever been. Alastair’s heart warmed at the thought, and although he and Thomas hated the Townsends and found them annoying, he convinced him to go for their father’s sake. 
Catherine, whom Alastair concluded was indeed on the list of those he would call boring, spineless and least favorable to become one of his friends, was getting into shadowhunters politics. Charlotte Fairchild was to be her mentor, something she did not enjoy and of which Alastair knew because of his dinners at the Lightwoods. He swore he had never seen Matthew’s mother sigh and shake her head so much during dinner, but he knew her hands were tied. 
After Bridgestock was kicked out as Inquisitor of the London Enclave, all the members decided that it was mandatory to mentor the new shadowhunters who wanted to get into their politics. To train them for their role so they would not resort into threatening other members of their society in order to get what they wanted. Charlotte herself proposed it, and Alastair thought it was a good idea. He knew that the woman was disheartened that her older son Bridgestock treated him as a bargain chip, and she didn’t want that to happen again to someone else with good intentions. As much as Alastair despised Charles Fairchild, he could understand his mother’s worries. 
The other members of the Enclave, including himself and Thomas, voted in favor of this measure, which ended up being approved. Charlotte, Gideon, Will and Tessa, all offered their help as mentors along with some of the other representatives. 
There were two people along with Charles – who wanted to try to get into shadowhunter politics again, much to everyone’s dismay – who wanted to train for shadowhunter roles in London. One of them was the aforementioned boring Catherine Townsend, while the other was a person he had learned to know well during the last few years, Thomas’ cousin Jesse Blackthorn. Catherine expressed her desire to become Consul a few months prior, along with Charles. Meanwhile, Jesse, much to no one’s surprise, wanted to train to become the next head of the London Institute. 
Charlotte chose not to mentor her son because it would have looked like nepotism – wasn’t it, though?. She would’ve gladly trained Jesse along with Gideon, but in hindsight, it was more fitting for him to be mentored by Will and Tessa, with whom he already worked everyday. In the end, it was Gideon who got Charles. Thomas patted his father’s shoulder once he knew, and offered him a genuine smile of understanding. Alastair wasn’t sure which of them had it worse, but probably both. 
This party was to celebrate Catherine’s first six months of training, and of course, they needed to attend to show that the Consul’s family and acquaintances were supporting. Alastair would have rather stayed home with Thomas, but he had a mission to accomplish, and he knew only Matthew could help him. 
He wished to talk to Fairchild directly at the event. It wasn’t like they never talked during events, but it was suspicious. He tried to intercept him when he went to the bathroom at some point, but believed it would be too awkward and stayed rooted to his place, hearing his sister Cordelia drone on the last addition to her and her husband’s house in Curzon Street. He rolled his eyes at that. Who cared about a statue made by a mundane artist when his mind was blank? He needed to find Matthew as soon as possible.
He had no way of tracking him – that would’ve been too much – if not through fire messages. And that also posed to be quite a difficult task. Thomas, who had been incredibly bored by the event, said that he wanted to do something exciting. Thus, even though it wasn’t their night duty to go on patrol, he agreed to go out with him until he had enough. Well, until Thomas, who had been yawning for the whole night, had finally given up on staying outside. If it were for him, he would’ve been in bed two hours prior, and he would’ve asked for Fairchild’s help way earlier. He waited for Thomas to doze off peacefully and sent the message. 
Fairchild. I know you must be surprised by this message, and by the hour on which it finds you, you must think I am either drunk or crazy – or both. Fret not with your speculations, as I will cut to the reason why I willed myself with the task of writing to you this late, and this unexpectedly. I found myself consumed by despair. And by shame. But I know that you are the only one who can help me. It’s been two years since I and Thomas started our relationship. The date is upcoming – in three days – but I still can’t find the perfect gift. I wanted to surprise him with something he may like, and I thought that you – nevermind. Perhaps this is uncharacteristically strange coming from me, but you do understand that desperate times call for desperate measures (and desperate requests for help). Feel free to ignore.
Alastair found himself sighing numerous times as he mulled over the words of the message, but he still sent it. To his shock, the Fairchild boy had replied to him.
Carstairs. You’re right, I’m appalled. It was the last thing I expected to happen on this day. Catherine Townsend sucking  up to my mother at the dinner didn’t faze me one bit, I know the woman is vile and I – I’m sorry, I was just rambling. I just thought of the perfect place where you can go with Thomas. We can go there by car tomorrow morning, but we need to meet up early. I can’t come before 7am, as I need my beauty sleep. You woke me up, but I’m willing to forgive you just because I care for Thomas’ happiness and I think he will be enthusiastically taken aback by where I thought you could take him.
Alastair confirmed that the time was perfect and he would wait outside his house in Cornwall Gardens. All the while he was hiding in the bathroom, because fire messages made too much noise and he didn’t want Thomas to wake. He wondered about the place he wanted to take him but decided he wanted to be surprised. Matthew didn't reply anymore, and he hoped that they had an agreement. Yet, it was half past seven and he couldn't see a hint of the blonde bohemian, and he started thinking that he had stood him up.
Alastair didn’t even know why he was annoyed by Matthew’s tardiness. Was he late? He just said not before seven, he didn't – He saw the Ford Model A approach and he massaged his temples. Calm down, Alastair. Do not lose your cool, he repeated to himself. 
“About time,” Alastair said gruffly, but at least he uncrossed his arms off his chest. 
“Good morning to you too, Alastair,” Matthew cheered from behind the wheel. “Bad night?”
Alastair rolled his eyes. In another time, he would have told him to mind his business. But he wasn’t the same person as he was years ago, nor was Matthew. “I could not sleep,” he sighed, remembering all the tossing and turning about last night. 
Matthew, who Alastair wasn't surprised to see wore a golden waistcoat and jacket that matched the details of his car, simply shrugged. “Yesterday's event at the Townsends upset your stomach too?”
He felt like rolling his eyes again. “If Catherine ever becomes Consul, I hope I'm not in London anymore,” he scoffed. 
“The feeling is mu –” Fairchild stopped abruptly and looked up, and Alastair dreaded that Matthew had seen Thomas through one of the lowest windows of the house. 
He turned quickly, relieved that was not the case, and realized what distracted the other from finishing his sentence. “Something is meowing at your feet,” he commented sourly with a frown. Knowing Matthew, it could have been some new customization of his Ford.
“Yes, I haven't forgotten about you, kitties,” Matthew said instead, and he lowered to pick up a box from the floor of his car. “There, there, here we are,” he cooed. He got out of the vehicle and started walking toward the door of Alastair's house.
“What are you doing?” Alastair frowned, glancing at the kitties before Matthew could advance closer and ring the doorbell. There were two of them: one was a tortoiseshell, while the other was a brown tabby. They were probably strays and not older than a few days. 
“We are going to the countryside, Alastair. As much as they would keep us company and stop us from tearing each other's hair with their fluffy cuteness, I think they should stay home.”
“In case you forgot, this is my home.”
“And it can be a temporary home for the kitties,” he said excitedly, offering Alastair his megawatt smile, even though he knew it wouldn’t help matters. “In case you forgot, I do have a massive and lovely dog in my home.”
“Since he is lovely, surely, he must love cats,” he asserted.
“Absolutely, he does. But you understand that I can't leave Oscar alone with them,” Matthew tried to plead his case. He looked down at the kittens mournfully, and they meowed at him. “They’re tiny little things and they’re defenseless. They’re the equivalent of a newborn baby,” he argued. “Would you leave a newborn baby alone?”
“That’s beside the point,” Alastair objected, but the meowing of the kittens alone was tugging at his heartstrings and he didn’t want to admit it to Fairchild. “There would still be no one to attend to the kitties.”
Matthew shook his head as he stroked one of the kitties’ heads. “They wouldn't be alone. Thomas is inside, I assume.”
“Where do you think –” Alastair closed his eyes for a moment out of exasperation. “We're losing precious time. Moreover, in case you forgot, Thomas must not know of my encounter with you.”
“You're wasting time by dragging the issue out! Just leave the box in a room and close the door. I'll get them when we get back and I'll see if I can find them a house.”
“What if Thomas finds them?” Alastair wondered. “You do know that this house is his as much as it’s mine –”
“You think too much, Alastair,” he raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. “Just leave them in a room that Thomas doesn’t like, then. That’s it, I resolved the problem for you.”
Alastair wanted to argue with Matthew, but he was right. Again. He was dragging the discussion out and he was concerned that Thomas would wake up soon and he would look for him, even though he left him a note apologizing. He needed to do this quickly. He took the box away from Matthew’s hands and he made a mental note of the house. 
He realized that the room Thomas never seemed to enter was Cordelia’s old room. It made sense. Even though Cordelia moved out of the house several years prior, Alastair and Thomas thought that for the moment they wouldn’t turn it into something else. Cordelia (and James) used the room when they stayed there when one of their parties went too far into the night and they didn’t want to walk back home. Lazy, if anyone asked Alastair, but convenient for his immediate scope. He left the box on the other side of her bed, and bolted the door. He then ran out of the house as if it were on fire to meet an excited Matthew already waiting in the driver’s seat.
“You know, it would be ideal to keep conversation while we drive,” Matthew quipped a while after they left London behind. “The road is long.”
Alastair barely glanced at him, his hands gripped the side of his seat tightly. “I have nothing to say,” he retorted, trying not to sound too blunt. 
“You didn’t even ask me where we’re going,” Matthew observed, raising an eyebrow at how his traveling companion sat. “You are not going to fall, trust me.”
“What?” he wondered louder than it was appropriate. “Mind the driving, Fairchild. I don’t want to die young and above all, I’d regret perishing in the countryside.”
Matthew replied with a mirthful laugh, and Alastair glared at him this time. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to taunt you, but you make it so easy,” he shrugged. “What did the countryside ever do to you?”
Alastair managed a smile. He remembered another time, another himself. A younger self who was less carefree than he is now. A young boy who could only find solace in going horse riding in Dartmoor and hunting for blackberries. A boy who rejoiced when they moved there for a while, because the pubs and grocery shops were too far from their house, and his father too lazy to look for his poison. A place where he felt they never stayed enough because of said reason. His father’s love for the bottle overshadowed his affection for his family, and that probably quelled the peacefulness of those memories.
“I used to live in the countryside every once in a while,” he confessed to Matthew. The car wasn’t too fast, and he was trying to appreciate the landscape. It distracted him. “At Cirenworth.”
“Oh, in Devon, I see. Cordelia told me about it,” he nodded. Seeing that the other didn’t answer anymore, he continued. “You don’t sound too happy about it, though? Was this place ugly and water leaked from the pipes, your shirts would get drenched and you had to wear a bathsuit your whole stay so that at least, you’d be prepared to get soaked?”
Alastair pinched the bridge of his nose. “You always come up with the most absurd scenarios, Fairchild,” he shook his head. “I am afraid to ruin your fantasy, but no. On the other hand, Devon is an outstanding location and so is Cirenworth. It is immersed in nature and there are many paths that lead to the beach. It is quiet and no one bothers you and you have plenty of space to train in the moor. It was the best place I’ve ever lived.”
“Seems like the perfect place for relaxing,” Matthew assumed, keeping his eyes on the road. They had just passed a sign and he realized they were closer to their location than he thought. “Have you been there recently? To visit your mother and little brother?”
“I’ve been there a few weeks ago,” he confessed. “We had a picnic in the rose garden by the house with Thomas.”
He recalled the memory fondly. His mother and Risa prepared a picnic in the extensive garden at Cirenworth. Zachary had grown so much in the time he hadn’t seen him, and he dedicated most of the time to playing with him in the grass. Thomas had accompanied him, of course. His younger brother grew attached to his partner, and he demanded to sit him on his shoulder because he was the tallest. 
Alastair had a mini heart attack every time Thomas helped little Zachary on his shoulders. He was protective (even though he knew Thomas would never let him fall) but he was also quite mushy. This was a feeling that he had discovered in these years of being in love with Thomas and being loved back by him. 
“I would love to see that place someday,” Matthew smiled, and even if he was looking ahead of him, Alastair knew that he meant it. In all fairness, he even wondered why his sister had never invited him over. 
“What about you, though?” Alastair found himself wondering. “Is there a place like Cirenworth in your life?”
“I had one, when I was a child,” the blond replied uncharacteristically quietly, not meeting his eyes again. Well, he better watch the road. It was barely visible in between the corn crops on either side of them. Alastair hadn’t dared to ask where they were going and now he regretted it. “Fairchild Manor, in Idris. We used to go there on vacation during the summer. I remember thinking that my parents decided to paint the building in a mellow gold hue to honor my birth, but of course, I was deluding myself,” he laughed bitterly. “Aside from this little childhood embarrassment, I felt like we were truly a family when we were there. An ordinary family. My mother would ignore the shadowhunter business as long as we stayed there, and we would play different games in front of a glass of freshly made tea. My father would ditch the experiments and I would push his chair so we could go on long walks together. I even played with that menace that is Charles –” he rolled his eyes, as if he was incredulous. “Those were good times.”
Alastair listened to Matthew’s story carefully, and he was surprised at how similar their happy place seemed to be. The only striking difference, he was sure, were their fathers. He admired Henry Fairchild. He was often criticized for being a man of science, but it was just shadowhunter society closing itself to modernity again, which wasn’t good. If it hadn’t been for him, they wouldn’t have had things like portals. His father, on the other hand… there was nothing to admire, he concluded. He was better off dead. 
The conversation veered on other topics like the weather and how nice it seemed to be. Matthew asked what Alastair thought of the recent shadowhunter happenings in London and they discussed that for a while. Their earlier conversation broke the ice, despite the day being far from chilly. 
As he descended out of Matthew’s car when they arrived, Alastair found himself sweating in spite of the hat he was wearing and a gentle breeze blowing in their direction. Must be the countryside and its air, he thought. Yet, it was the autumn season, and he realized that he was getting antsy and anxious because he was about to find out what his partner’s close friend had thought for them.
“Please do tell me why, because my curiosity is unending,” Matthew said abruptly as they walked who knew where, as there was literally nobody in the clearing facing them. “You still haven’t asked me where I brought you, Alastair.”
Alastair shrugged, trying not to clench his fists in frustration. “What if I said that I trusted your taste? Would you believe me?”
He snorted in response. “Of course I would,” Matthew smirked. “I know I have impeccable taste.”
“Whatever you say, Fairchild,” he replied sourly. 
Matthew stopped, and so did he. Alastair realized that they were almost in the center of the clearing. There were short trees on every side, and small patches of flowers. It seemed like the best place for a picnic and to have a little privacy, but would Matthew drive that far from London – he still didn’t know where they were, but considering the over two hours of travel, he decided they were a little outside of town – to take him to the perfect place to eat on the grass? He wouldn’t know how to get back there again if he did. 
The blond glanced at the clock in his pocket and turned to Alastair. “They should be here any minute,” he spoke confidently, offering him a smile. 
Alastair wanted to ask him who, when something caught his eye. It was barely midday, but there was a shadow invading the clearing. He knew it couldn���t be a demon – it was broad daylight – but his hand still went on his weapons’ belt, ready to grab his spears to attack. His hand went slack when he noticed the source of the shadow: a big hot air balloon. It wasn’t just a regular hot air balloon. It was also propelled by some kind of magic, he assumed, because of the color of the fire under the rainbow colored tarp.
“You look like you were expecting an ambush,” Matthew observed, glancing at Alastair’s astonished expression. “I know, I was also quite surprised the first time I saw one of these up close. Isn’t it fascinating?”
“What?” Alastair managed to say, his mouth gaped open. “Quite,” he added with a sigh. Damn. 
The colorful air balloon descended into the clearing and gracefully landed not far from the two of them. Three people came out of it with happy smiles, along with the warlock, who Alastair didn’t recognize. Matthew walked to the man as soon as the clients left, but he stood there. Immobile until the other took notice that he hadn’t bothered to catch up to him. He gestured for him to come there, and only then, after taking a long breath of encouragement, did Alastair follow, albeit slowly.
“Frank, let me introduce you to Alastair Carstairs,” Matthew told the purple-haired warlock. “He needs to surprise an important person and he thought that your hot air balloon ride would be the best experience that he could have.”
“Sure, welcome, shadowhunter. Anyone of Mr. Fairchild’s friends is a friend of mine,” Frank said. “I don’t usually let shadowhunters ride my balloon,” he chuckled, “but I am willing to help you since you’re a good friend of this handsome fella,” he winked at Matthew, which made Alastair frown. Maybe Matthew knew this warlock personally.
He glanced at his friend. “Well, thank you very much,” he answered with a clipped tone, trying to be cordial. “About that, can I speak to my friend Matthew for a second?”
The warlock shrugged and went towards a small cabin close to the woods that Alastair hadn’t noticed before. Once he was out of earshot, Matthew asked: “I don’t understand what’s wrong. Is it because he’s a warlock? Because –”
“No, absolutely not,” Alastair quickly said. He never had problems with downworlders, and it annoyed him that the other thought that was the issue. “I didn’t realize you were taking me here,” he sighed, “where are we?”
“That’s because you never asked,” Matthew chided, and he had to give it to him. It was the truth. “We are in Hatfield park, in Hertfordshire. Hatfield House is not far from here. It’s where Queen Elizabeth grew up.”
“Good for her,” he snorted. So they were indeed not far from London. 
“You don’t sound too excited,” Matthew said. “Is it the place? Is there too much green? Is –”
Alastair couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m afraid of the heights,” he confessed, ready to be ridiculed by Matthew. 
“Bloody hell,” he replied with a neutral expression. He seemed to be genuinely understanding. “I didn’t know.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Alastair frowned, gazing away. The warlock sat on a chair and was sunbathing. “If I’d only asked,” he clenched his fists. He was angry at himself. “Guess it can’t be helped now. I’ll have to think about something else before Friday.”
“Don’t be hard too on yourself, Alastair,” Matthew tried to console him, something he didn’t expect. “I can tell Frank that regrettably, you have changed your mind, and you wish to go back to London. Simple as that. Trust me, he’s not going to hold it over your head or curse you.”
“Warlocks can’t curse people,” Alastair remarked, tilting his head in the direction of the man. 
“Not the warlocks you know,” he winked with a smile, but Alastair raised his eyebrows. “Fine, fine, you’re right! Must you always be so fussy?”
Alastair shrugged, and Matthew took it as a sign that he wasn’t going to answer and started walking in the opposite direction, where Frank was probably asleep by now. He came back a couple of minutes later saying that the warlock was nonchalant about their decision not to go on with the balloon ride, and to come back if they changed their minds. 
Alastair didn’t talk all the way back to Matthew’s car. He was thinking about the hot air balloon, and how Thomas would react if he took him there. He would love it, he told himself. He would absolutely adore it and talk about it non stop for months. He reckoned Thomas mentioned balloons more than once, when they saw a photograph of one in The Star. He always meant to take him on a ride, but he wasn’t sure he could overcome his fear of the heights. 
He was still thinking about this when they got back to the car, hands clenched into fists on his lap and his eyes fixated on nowhere precisely. He was thrown back to reality after Matthew groaned, which reminded him that they still hadn’t left. He wondered how much time had he stared into space. 
“If you fixed your hair, I think I’m ready to go back to London,” Alastair muttered. 
“I have bad news and good news,” Matthew sighed, his hands crossed on the steering wheel. “Which one do you want to know first?”
“Is this a game? Because I don’t think we have time for those, Fairchild. You better start the car or we won’t even get to London in time for dinner.”
“Well, congratulations! I’m afraid that is the piece of bad news I was going to deliver, but you’re good at guessing,” he chuckled, even if there was nothing to laugh about. Alastair raised an eyebrow, and he continued. “The car won’t start.”
“Say that again,” Alastair said, aggravated. 
“The car is out of fuel. It won’t start. Look,” he turned the keys into the ignition, but no sound could be heard from the vehicle. Instead of the usual purr of the engine, there was utter silence. 
“Out of fuel? Didn’t you get some before leaving?” Alastair tried not to get too agitated.
“I didn’t think I would need more. I thought it would last,” he shook his head in frustration. “Look, I apologize. There’s nothing we can do but wait. I’ve already called for help.”
Alastair scoffed, and crossed his arms on his chest. “Well, whoever you called better come here soon. I can’t lose more time, I’m already running out of time. I shouldn’t have –” but he bit his lip and he didn’t finish. He wasn’t even angry, but he was a little anxious.
“Asked for my help?” Matthew dared to ask. “Kind of odd, I must say, but I thought someday it might have happened,” he clenched his jaw. “And not because I am a connoisseur of the best entertaining experiences Edwardian society has to offer. We both love Thomas, and we both care for him. You want to make him happy, and so do I. Shouldn’t that be the end goal?”
“It should,” he admitted. “And he is. I’m not being cordial towards you just because you’re one of Tom’s best friends,” he said, and Matthew raised an eyebrow. Alastair ignored him. “I do not harbor any animosity towards you because of the car, in case you’re wondering. I’m just angry at myself.”
“Since we’ll be spending a few hours together before help gets here…” he left the sentence hanging. “I have a fine ear that is very willing to listen, in case you need to vent,” Matthew smiled. 
Alastair thought about it for a few seconds. He had already shown Matthew his vulnerable side when he desperately asked for help the night before. He also confessed his fear of the heights, which only Thomas knew about. Telling him more wouldn’t be too confidential, would it? It wouldn’t mean they would become friends. 
“Do you ever want to,” Alastair began, “make someone happy but you know what’s standing between your happiness and them is you?” He said bitterly. “This hot air balloon idea you had, Fairchild, was thoughtful. Thomas had expressed the desire to go on one casually in conversation, but I never dared to follow because of my little fear.”
Matthew’s mouth gaped open in disbelief, but it was quickly replaced by a warm smile. “I do know that feeling very well, yes,” he gazed up at the sky, as if he was longing to fix that but could not. “To be honest with you, Thomas also expressed the desire in conversation with me as well, when I told him that I knew a warlock that had a balloon business,” he pointed out. “This is why I brought you here in the lively Hertfordshire,” he cocked his head. “And yes, I also had selfish reasons. I wanted to ride the hot air balloon myself, but alas, I also abhor heights,” he scoffed. “I was hoping you’d force me to ride, even just to see my face turn green like the countryside,” he added, and Alastair started chuckling. “You see, acrophobia is not that uncommon! Even dashing men like me have fears.”
Alastair tried to rein his giggles. It was unlike him to laugh so freely in front of people in general, if they weren’t Thomas or his family. But laughing was freeing, and it made him feel better. He should do it more. “I never thought I’d laugh about that with you, but thanks.”
“Well, there is a first time for everything,” Matthew grinned. “And thanks for what? You’ll have to find something new for Thomas.”
“You still tried to help me,” he said. “Even though it backfired. I appreciate the effort.”
The sound of wheels on the soil alerted them that whoever Matthew had called to take them back and also bring fuel for the car was closer and approaching. Alastair didn’t know how much time had passed ever since they sat waiting. Matthew kept talking about random stuff – some of it eccentric nonsense – and Alastair listened to him. There was nothing better to do, he told himself, and Fairchild’s stories were amusing. Time had to pass. 
They got off the Ford to meet their savior. Alastair thought it would be James, because he was Matthew’s parabatai, but instead –
“Thomas, my dear,” Matthew spoke before Alastair could, and walked briskly to his friend. “Why are you here? It was Jesse I sent a fire message to!”
Thomas glanced at Matthew briefly, and acknowledged Alastair. He frowned, not used to the sight of his boyfriend with one of his best friends. He seemed surprised, but his eyes didn’t betray much emotion. “I was with Jesse when he read the message and I offered to come instead. He and father had to go out together. Is there something wrong with me being here?” he asked the blond, but he knew the question was directed at him.
“What about James?” Matthew inquired, which was weird. He knew James wouldn’t be in town today, but Matthew had to know that too, since he sent the message to Jesse first. He was catching himself in his lie, but Thomas ignored that.
“James went to see that mundane sport with Cordelia – what’s the name again? Ah, polo, it was polo.” Thomas replied curtly, not breaking eye contact with Alastair. “Whereas I was free. I had to go to buy groceries with someone this morning, but when I woke up, the bed was cold and empty.” 
“Alright, alright, Thomas,” he patted his arm. “I’ll leave you two alone and get the fuel.”
Thomas waited for Matthew to go back to the carriage with which he had arrived, to start speaking. “Why were you two together?”
“He was going to the countryside,” Alastair looked away and sighed. “And I asked him to go with him. He knows a lot of places. Also, I thought I left you a note before I left.”
“You only enjoy the countryside where Cirenworth is,” Thomas replied, rolling his eyes with a grin. He wasn’t definitely angry, just puzzled. And teasing.
“Hamsar-am,” Alastair said. “You know me too well,” he snorted, managing a smile reserved only for his lover. “But I can’t tell you.”
“And I don’t want you to tell me,” he answered with a smile. “I was just messing with you. About the note, too. Which, by the way, was so sweet,” he licked his lips and stroked the side of Alstair’s neck, lingering on his shoulder blade. “We still have to go grocery shopping, though.”
“I would never forget about grocery shopping,” he fixed his gaze on Thomas’ lips and then his hazel eyes, which reminded him of nuts. He loved nuts. “We can go tomorrow morning, since this day is done.”
Thomas nodded, but something caught his eye behind Alastair. “Oh, man. Is that a hot air balloon?” he exclaimed, his hazel eyes filled with excitement.
“Majestic, isn’t it?” 
“And it’s descending down there. Can we please take a look, Alastair? I want to see one up close!” He was giddy. 
Thomas got excited even for the little things like this balloon and seeing him so happy always put Alastair in a good mood. Thomas took his hand and he dragged him to the field where he and Matthew had been a few hours prior. A group of werewolves had just enjoyed their balloon ride, as Frank the warlock was just wishing them goodbye.
“Do you think we can ride it?” Thomas asked, his eyes beamed at the balloon. He didn’t wait for his reply and went to the warlock directly. “Good morning, sir. Do you offer balloon rides?”
Frank turned with a smirk, and eyed Alastair and then Thomas. “Oh, there’s a third shadowhunter. A friend of Mr. Fairchild too, I suppose? Have you changed your mind, then?”
Thomas glanced at Alastair, and he sighed. “Excuse us,” he told Frank, and pulled his puzzled boyfriend away from the warlock until they were far enough. It looked like deja vu. “I asked Matthew to help me last night,” he took a pause, “about your anniversary gift. And he took me here, to a faraway place, because he thought you would like riding a hot air balloon. And he was right,” he managed a tight smile. “You know I’m afraid of the heights,” Alastair muttered. “But he didn’t know that, and now I have to think about something new.”
“Oh, if we are coming clean now, I also asked your mother about your gift,” he scratched the back of his head and looked away, his cheeks assuming the rosy color of shyness. “She told me you love khoresht-e ghormeh sabzi and that is a dish that is usually made during festivities. But you know I can’t cook, for the love of the Angel,” he chuckled, and Alastair raised his eyebrows. One time, Thomas managed to burn a hard boiled egg, but he was getting better. 
“We aren’t perfect,” he said.
“No one is,” Thomas said softly, grabbing his hand. “That is what makes us special. Being afraid of the heights won’t make me love you any less.”
“I’m deeply sorry about that. Perhaps I should try to get past my fear and ride the damn balloon with you, but I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t think I can cook a decent meal either, so I think we are fine,” Thomas smiled. “It isn’t the end of the world. And you shouldn’t if you don’t want to.”
“Are you really sure about that?”
“Positive,” Thomas kissed his cheek. “How about we go back? There is something back home that you need to see.”
“Alright, I’ll be leaving. I left Oscar with the doorman and I need to go back to my apartment,” Matthew announced after he accompanied Thomas and Alastair to Cornwall Gardens. 
Alastair proposed they rode in the Lightwood carriage, but Thomas insisted they went in the car so Matthew wouldn’t have to ride alone. There was barely space for two in the Ford, so the ride back wasn’t comfortable. Alastair’s only joy was that thanks to the lack of space, he had to lean on Thomas, which he didn’t seem to mind. 
Alastair raised his eyebrows at Matthew, who, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten about the box he had left this morning in Cordelia’s old room. Matthew blinked, probably to make him understand he remembered, but Thomas spoke first.
“No, Math, wait,” Thomas said. “Come, and see what I found too. Perhaps you can help us, since you know so many people.”
Thomas entered the house first, followed by Alastair and Matthew. The two exchanged a quick glance – Alastair was glaring at him, Matthew just shrugged –  as Thomas led them into the living room. Alastair exhaled a much held breath but it was short lived when he heard a noise coming from the wooden table. Meowing. Meowing and a bad smell which he possibly identified as animal droppings. Alastair wanted to run, to fly, to hide, but that was also his home, and he couldn’t.
“Are those… kittens?” Matthew chanced, feigning surprise, when Thomas showed the box to them. “How adorable!”
“As you can see, they are indeed. Two strays,” Thomas took the tortoiseshell in his arms and started petting it. Alastair wanted to die. The image of Thomas with a kitty was too much to bear, but he also didn’t know how to explain why the cats were there, if he ever asked. Which, of course, he did. “I have no idea how they got here, though. I was about to leave for my parents’ house when I heard some noise coming from Cordelia’s room, and I found them.”
“How odd. I wonder how they got there. They mustn’t have possibly crawled so young, and carried the box with them,” Matthew observed, and Alastair would’ve rolled his eyes higher than the ceiling if he could. He never met someone who was able to craft such lies and make them believable in the span of a few seconds. Thomas also made a face.
“Come on, stop joking,” Alastair interjected, looking at Matthew briefly. “I brought the cats here, Tom. They are Matthew’s. But I suppose you already know that, since it would have been quite impossible for them to get in on their own.”
“I knew it,” Thomas said. “Cordelia’s room, really? You know that I never go there. If they hadn’t meowed, I couldn’t have found them.”
“That was the aim, Thomas,” Matthew replied. “I only asked Alastair to leave them here because we couldn’t have possibly taken them to Hertfordshire. I would have brought them to my apartment once we returned.”
“Who said they are going back?” Thomas inquired. “Do you stake a claim on the kitties, Math?”
“I – don’t think so,” Matthew revealed. “I can’t keep them. I don’t intend to turn my home into an animal house. Oscar is enough for me. I planned to take them to the London Institute, since they would have the space to thrive. Even though I don’t think Uncle Will loves cats that much. Maybe, if I asked Jesse, he could convince him –” Alastair cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was rambling. Anyway, no, Tom. I do not stake any claim on these little cuties. Feel free to keep them or give them up for adoption. Just find them a good family who won’t throw them away.”
“Good, because I think I’ve just found them a family,” he confessed happily, eyeying Alastair, whose heart started beating faster in his chest. “What do you say, Alastair? Do you think you can accept these two kitties into our house?”
Alastair felt his cheeks burning. He couldn’t contain his own happiness when Thomas openly talked about them as a family in front of a crowd (there was only Matthew there with them, but still). “There is enough space for two kitties here, that’s for sure,” he grinned, his eyes only for his boyfriend.
“Then they are officially ours,” he looked down at the kitty. 
They ended up naming the two cats Ra and Horus like two of the most important Egyptian gods. This put Alastair in a good mood, and he decided to leave the hot air balloon fiasco behind him. And so did Thomas with the Persian dish.
“I will cook khoresht-e ghormeh sabzi the day after tomorrow,” Alastair announced that evening, when they were on the rug playing with the kitties. “Since it is going to be an important day for us and you’re not going to make that for me.”
“I planned to ask Risa,” Thomas confessed. “But no, I don’t think I can. I will ask somebody to go on the balloon ride with me.”
“Fair enough. My fear shouldn’t stop you from doing these activities, but for the love of the Angel, be careful,” he warned.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Let’s say Ra and Horus are our gifts, what’s that sound?”
“Good,” Alastair smiled, and he couldn’t help but kiss his boyfriend on the rug, the cat making meows of protest. “Let’s hope they don’t develop an Aedipus complex,” he added, and Thomas couldn’t help but laugh.
Fairchild. We decided that the cats, now officially named Ra and Horus, will be our anniversary gift to each other. Just wanted to let you know for no other reason than to thank you. I thought keeping them here was a bad idea, but it turned out better than expected. Thomas says to come with Oscar if you want them to meet so they can be friends. And next time we go to Cirenworth, you could come with him to visit. You don’t have to respond to this message.
Matthew received the fire message right when he was lounging on his bed with Oscar and smiled. Were they friends now? He didn’t know. He just knew that, in spite of everything, he had enjoyed spending a day with Alastair Carstairs and to his surprise, he thought they also had things in common. He would definitely bring Oscar to Cornwall Gardens to become Ra and Horus’ friend and would gladly accept an invitation to Cirenworth. 
Who said that cats and dogs couldn’t be friends?
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luciehercndale · 8 months
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A Different Kind of Music - Wessa
Set a few months after Will and Tessa get married. So let's say 1880-1881. They are deciding how to renovate the ballroom of the Institute, but things take a different turn when they get creative. ;) This was inspired by the amazing hot art by the talented @/thorndale/elisial_art on tumblr/Instagram <;3 Warning: Mature
“This room is such a mess,” Will glared at the windows, where long drapes of red velvet hung on by a literal thread. “First thing we’ll change are these curtains, I don’t like red,” he flinched, as if red offended him for some reason. 
Tessa could only smile as they paced the ballroom together. She couldn’t believe it. Just a few months ago, they said their vows and they sealed their union. She was Tessa Herondale now, and even though not everybody saw it the same way, it didn’t matter to her. Only Will mattered, and the future they intended to build together in this place, which needed a little redecoration, according to him.
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luciehercndale · 7 months
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Hold it Together - Blackdale
Canon divergent. This is a conversation between Lucie and Jesse that I see happen after the face off on the Institute grounds in Chapter 26 of Chain of Thorns. It is a follow up one shot of my scene fix-it/rewrite called "Five". You don't need to read it to understand the context of this one because I give it. If you read "Five", you saw that in my rewrite Jesse isn't able to speak to his father because Lucie can't keep his ghost in their world anymore. If you haven't read "Five", now you know lol that this is the first canon divergence thing. The second is that Grace kills Tatiana instead of Cordelia, and that Christopher is alive :) All these information are given in the fic but I wanted to tell you before you start to warn you about what is different in here. This is the first of two or maybe three one shots. The second one shot will be about Gracetopher and it will be canon divergent as well. :)
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Lucie felt the cold first. She wasn’t sure where it came, but it seemed as if it spoke to her, as if it was luring her somewhere, as if it was begging her to follow. Unlike warmth, cold had a way of pricking your skin and getting deep under your bones. You can fight cold with warmth, but sometimes – she felt that prickling sensation and pushed herself to react. Move, her mind told her. Open your eyes. And yet, she didn’t. Not yet. She needed a little bit of –
“The iratzes are fading,” she vaguely heard the voice of a boy. He was frantic. “They are not holding –”
“We need to keep trying,” a female voice cut in, urgent as the other person. “Do it here, Jesse.”
Jesse. That was the voice. Jesse. Why am I here? Why are you –
She needed to do something. She needed – warmth started spreading up her arms and legs. The prickling sensation, she realized, were the iratzes, whatever they were. Her mind was blank, her body limp, until it wasn’t anymore. Until the warmth reached her hands, reached her fingers. She felt renewed energy grow inside of her, she was –
“She’s waking up,” she heard his voice, Jesse’s voice, announce with relief. She opened her eyes slowly and found him staring at her, his deep green eyes set with worry. “Lucie,” he muttered, and she tried sitting up. Thanks to his hand, she could.
“I am fine,” she stuttered. She sat on the hard stone of the Institute stairs, Jesse’s hand keeping her back upright, in case she would fall. Cordelia was on the other side of her, and their eyes met. Her friend grinned at her, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was worried about her, but she would be okay. “What happened?”
“Well, what do you remember?”
“I tried to keep Rupert here until I could not anymore,” she recounted with sadness. “And I saw Grace run –” she stopped abruptly, taking in the scene around her, until her eyes fixed on the iron gate. “Is she,” she began with a sigh, glancing at Jesse but not wanting to say the words.
His expression darkened, but it was Cordelia who answered her. “Yes,” she said without emotion. “She is dead. Tatiana Blackthorn is dead.”
*
“You need to rest, Lucie,” Jesse declared afterwards, once they retreated to her bedroom. He had filled her in on what she missed on the way upstairs. Tatiana Blackthorn was dead. Grace had stabbed her. Five times. Christopher was hurt but he was alive, and he would survive. 
Jesse arranged the pillows on her bed and she sat in the middle of the mattress with her legs crossed. “You need to regain your strength. What you did earlier –” he sighed. “it took you great effort”.
“Are the Watchers truly gone?”
“They are,” he said. He was staring out of her window. “For the moment. It seems like she controlled them. Once she lost control…”
Lucie noticed how he avoided saying his mother’s name, and she wondered if he was looking at the place where she had fallen. Tatiana had been moved to the sanctuary, but still. Her lifeless body lay there just an hour ago. “Jesse,” she called, and he grinned when she met his gaze. “Come sit here,” she proposed, patting the mattress next to her.
He seemed to think about it for a few seconds and then walked to the bed. Lucie could see it. His eyes were weary, his hair mussed up because of the wintry wind blowing outside. On another occasion, he might have used his willpower to argue, but not today. He sat down close to her, in a way that they would touch but still at a safe distance. 
“I’m sorry, Jesse,” she said after a long silence passed between them. He glanced at her, his eyes questioning, asking. A lot of things had happened on that chilly morning, and despite having retreated inside for a good hour already, she still wasn’t warm. She bit her lip and hugged her torso. “I wish I could’ve kept your father here more. I wish he could’ve talked to you too, but,” she sighed in frustration, her lip trembling. “I couldn’t keep up. My body gave up.”
“You were reckless,” he countered, and Lucie knew he wasn’t mad at her, just protective.  “Everytime you attempt this, it takes an enormous toll on you,” he took the blanket from the side of the bed and put it around her shoulders with care. “You shouldn’t have risked it. At the same time,” he shook his head, “it worked. She crumbled after he confessed his true feelings.”
Lucie mouthed a thanks and threw one side of the blanket over his back. He frowned, but he still accepted it. “Grace suggested it,” she explained, clutching at the locket around her throat. “It was a smart idea, and I was the only one who could do it. In fact, it did have the desired –” she frowned, seeing his expression harden, “it ended up in our favor.” 
He just answered with a nod, and sank into the pillows behind him. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the ceiling, lost in thought. Most likely replaying the scene in his head. His father confessed more of Tatiana’s absurd goals. The both of them ceased to exist almost at the same time. One, because of his ghost nature. The other, because she was dead. 
She couldn’t fathom what he must be feeling, but she could imagine it. Even though Jesse had never met his father, he had always loved him by default. He told her as much a couple of months before. With Tatiana, it was more complicated. They never openly talked about her, and she thought that he might have cared for his mother when he was a child. She had been his whole world, after all, until Grace came along. Then, Grace became his whole world.
Lucie lay down so she would face him. He had made sure she was comfortable and she wanted to do the same for him. He barely asked for things because he wasn’t used to kindness. He wasn’t used to receiving and she wanted to change that. She wanted to give him everything he never had. She wanted them to survive this. 
She grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers together. A simple gesture that meant: I am here for you. I am not the only one who needs resting, you do as well. He turned his head and fixed a strand of hair that had escaped her pins behind her ear. It was so gentle, and Lucie closed her eyes briefly to savor the gesture. 
“Are you okay?” She knew that it was a tough question, but she had to ask. She didn’t know if he would answer, but she would try. Love also meant letting the other person know that you were there for them and that you were willing to listen.
He huffed. “Are you?” She nodded, placing their entwined hands on his heart. She could feel it pulsing under her knuckles, his beats quickened when she did this. “I don’t know,” he answered after a good minute. His other hand was on his stomach as if he was trying to hold himself together. “A lot of things happened at once,” he mumbled. “I met my father for the first time, I saw my mother for the last time,” he stared at her and sighed. “I wish I could have done something, but I felt – I felt paralyzed. I should’ve been a better brother. I should’ve –” his voice broke, and he paused, avoiding her eyes. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve saved her the pain of taking a life.”
“Jesse,” Lucie spoke as softly as she could. “Do not beat yourself up because of how you reacted. You were shaken by what was happening. Grace was already in pain before this, and I am sure that it must’ve been a tough choice for her. But she eventually chose to land the knife,” she continued. “Have you ever thought that she must’ve found it liberating? Have you ever thought she might’ve hated you if you had taken that choice away from her?” 
“I just wanted to protect her,” he confessed. “And perhaps, she already hates me.”
“I know. But, Jesse,” she allowed, his eyes waiting for her to continue. “As much as this is noble, it’s also very stupid. You don’t protect the people you love by taking the hit in their place. Or their choices away from them. Some things may seem reckless to you,” she raised an eyebrow at him, and he understood she also meant her decision to call on Rupert’s ghost. “But they could be important and necessary to somebody else,” she added. “Why would you believe she hates you?”
He heaved a long sigh. “I reacted too rashly when I visited her in the Silent City,” he admitted. “I was too harsh and too insensitive, but I only realized it after I returned here,” he said. “I planned to go back today to apologize for my behavior, and then –” he huffed. 
“Then this happened,” Lucie nodded, and Jesse shrugged, defeated. “You still have time to do that, though. To apologize and to support Grace. I’m sure she still wants that. She loves you dearly.”
“I thought you didn’t like Grace,” he frowned, skeptical. They were face to face now, because he had also turned on his side.
“I didn’t like what she did to my brother, that much is true,” she admitted. “But I tried to understand her, and I think that she deserves a little slack. She is also a victim. I’m not saying we will become tight friends in the future, but you never know. After all, making plans for the future is a bit rash at the moment.”
“We’ll just think about the present, then,” he grinned at her, but he didn’t add more about Grace. She only hoped that they could talk about their issues and solve their misunderstanding. 
He fixed the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. She felt grateful that they could be alone for a while. Lucie blushed, and moved her head closer to his. “I wish I could kiss you right now, but we can’t,” she confessed quietly. 
“We cannot, unfortunately,” he mumbled with resignation. “But we can lay here side by side, enjoy each other’s company and try to rest.”
“Do you mean sleep?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Rest can mean many things, Lucie,” he debated with a chuckle. “We can also look at the ceiling, or we could stare at each other, but I guess I’d be tempted to kiss you if we did.”
She giggled, feeling warmer, finally. She guessed it was because of Jesse’s proximity, but also because of what he’d just told her. It made her heart flutter and her cheeks heat. He also provoked some other reactions to her body, but she decided not to think about that. 
“I think it is better to try to rest for a little while,” she decided. 
“I agree,” he nodded, and offered her a tiny smile before closing his eyes.
Lucie didn’t want to close her eyes, not yet. Her gaze lingered long enough on his pale face and dark lashes. On his chest that rose and fell at every beat of his heart. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, the weight of that morning worn him out. He was peaceful as he lay there, so close to her, so calm and full of smiles, but she knew he wasn’t okay. 
He had opened up to her, and she was thankful that he had trusted her with a piece of his soul. He had shared some of his doubts and fears, and she had listened and had tried to comfort him, but there was still more to unpack, more to face. Right now, both of their futures, everyone’s futures, hung on by a thread. If they pulled the wrong strings, they would be on the brink of death. And Lucie didn’t want that. No. She wanted to live a long life with Jesse and their loved ones.
She yawned, tiredness overtaking her already exhausted body. She curled up closer to him, rested a hand on his chest and closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.
*
I don't have to say much (I said most of what I wanted to say at the beginning). I just hope you enjoyed this. I really wanted to address what Lucie thinks of Grace, because I believe that she would rethink about her situation after Grace ran to the Institute before Tatiana arrived. I believe that they could become friends in the future, because they have matching personalities. Lucie may be annoyed at first because of the bracelet business, but I think she would move on, eventually. I liked the idea that she tries to make Jesse understand that he can't always save everyone and sometimes his choices (at least the ones in this fic, that he wanted to kill Tatiana to spare Grace the moral toll that comes with taking a life) are what in literature we call "noble idiocy" lol he also does that with Lucie in this fic, and I wanted him to understand that sometimes you need to let the people you love choose for themselves. And even though he said those things to Grace in the Silent City, he can still apologize and try to support her and also talk about what happened.
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luciehercndale · 4 months
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It's Lila's birthday, and she decides to give the day off to her crew, thinking that she might be spending hers alone with Kell. Little does she know that Kell has other plans in mind. Kell and Lila have a sweet and eventful date, so expect fluff. <3 Rating: T Words: 3,814
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