#alastairxthomas

[toffeeandbooks]

hi!! read if you’d like - i’d really appreciate it! 

the summary on the fic is: 

Alastair’s eyes show far too much. It’s not hard to learn. They darken when he’s angry; they light up when he sees his sister, his mother. They are wide when he’s leaning in to kiss you. They are closed tight when your lips are on his neck, when your teeth pull at his skin. And they close off like walls when he’s lonely, because Alastair is too stubborn to wallow so he takes it all in stride.Thomas suspects that he can barely walk with all that loneliness.

---

Or, Alastair is sad, but then the Townsends throw another musicale!

[julemmaes]

Hey! Can I please have Thomastair with "I love you! Are you blind?" With Alastair being the oblivious one......I just adore your writing, especially that 'You marry me Alas' one! 💕

Blind - October 6th

Alastair Carstairs x Thomas Lightwood

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt and I’m really glad you like You marry me Alas, it’s my favorite too. I hope this is satisfying enough for you and I’m really sorry if I posted so late, but as I said yesterday, I’m not home and it’s kinda hard to arrange things.

Word count: 1,745

Throughout the evening, Thomas had watched the newcomer flirt with Alastair. He thought he had been fairly good at hiding that feeling of uncertainty and anger towards the adonis, Dalton Roseblade, but from the looks Matthew and James were casting his way, he was not doing so well. He had to be honest, Dalton's pitch black hair and bright green eyes were much more inviting than the normal light brown of his hair and the chestnut of his eyes, but he was still irritated by the constant interactions and touches shared by Alastair and him.

"Alas!" cried the new boy, "Come! It's your turn."

Thomas had to hold back a shudder of disgust when Alastair stood up from the seat next to his and smiled at the other boy, "What's the rush? You know I'm going to kick your ass anyway," he joked, placing a hand on Dalton's arm.

Following Alastair's gesture with his eyes and hearing the other guy's laugh, he also stood up, no longer able to support that situation, and left the arcade, giving Lucie permission to play for him. He sucked at bowling anyway, he might as well let someone else play if he could avoid those constant exchanges of sympathetic glances.

He felt someone grab his arm when he was at the door and turned abruptly, with a frown on his face, ready to tell his boyfriend to go back to make goo-goo eyes at other people. His expression changed from irritated to apologetic when he realized it was Matthew.

His friend looked him in the eye and Thomas could almost see the wheels in his brain twirling, "Do you need me to come out with you?" he asked him quietly, but in a firm tone.

Thomas took one look at the bowling alley filled with his friends and saw Dalton helping Alastair choose "the perfect ball". He thought that any excuse was good to touch the other. He shifted his attention to the new boy's face and grimaced, focusing back on Matthew, "Whatever."

The blond nodded, "Give me a second, I'll get the cigarettes."

Thomas waited for him in front of the entrance and when James lifted his thumb up to him as if to ask him if everything was all right, he nodded just once, snorting. Christopher was also watching him closely, chewing on his lip, thoughtful.

If everyone had noticed it, Alastair must have noticed too and it was pissing him off even more, because if what he thought was true, it meant his boyfriend was doing that on purpose. Maybe to make him jealous.

He doesn't need to make me jealous, I'm already his. Thomas thought while accepting one of Math's cigarettes.

As he breathed in he could feel the other's green stinging eyes burning on the back of his head, "Do you think he's doing this without realizing it?"

Thomas snickered jokingly, "No, Alastair is not stupid. He knows he's bugging me."

"Well, sorry for the next words, but he's a piece of shit," Matthew said as he sat on the parking lot wall. Thomas imitated him, swinging his legs.

He shrugged, "I don't think he's being mean. He knows it bothers me, yes, but he does it to get my attention," he muttered, adding shortly afterwards, "At least I think so."

Matthew didn't answer right away and Thomas was more than happy to finish the conversation there, but the friend picked up just as he was about to get up, stopping him, "That's not nice of him anyway."

He looked over his shoulder. Matthew wrinkled his forehead, "I mean, after all, you've already gone out several times." he continued, saying the obvious, "You've even kissed, haven't you?" he asked for confirmation.

Thomas simply nodded, making a cloud of smoke. The blond knew very well that they had kissed. He had got him drunk off his ass to celebrate that slightest achievement.

Besides, Thomas insisted on calling him his boyfriend when they talked about it in private, but he and Alastair had never really said anything about the matter and the guy wasn't even sure if the other wanted a real relationship with him.

They finished their cigarettes in silence and Matthew didn't let half a second pass before lighting a second one. Thomas allowed himself to admire the beauty of his friend's face lit only by the dim light of the fire. He wondered how it was possible that of all the friends in their group, Matthew was the only single one.

"Maybe he's trying to send me a message and wants to tell me that if I don't hurry he could easily find someone else." he hypothesized by jumping off the wall and rubbing his hands on his pants.

Matthew laughed, "If that's the case, it would be pretty childish." when Thomas raised an eyebrow, he explained, "I mean, you've been going out for more than a month, like, three times a week - how you're not together yet, only you know." he gave him a questioning look, "If he were to go out tonight with this charade just to tell you to hurry up instead of taking a step forward himself, it would be ridiculous."

"I guess you're right," whispered Thomas, kicking a pebble on the ground.

"Well," Matthew said, "you don't have to guess anymore, you can ask him directly."

He jumped off the wall, pointing with his chin to the entrance of the arcade, where a very confused Alastair was looking at them with his hands in his pockets and an uncertain expression.

Matthew patted him on the shoulder, wishing him good luck, and nodded his head once as he passed Alastair, before returning to the building.

Thomas was not sure he wanted to have this conversation now.

Alastair was the first to speak, "Are you okay?" he seemed genuinely concerned by the tone of his voice, but Thomas couldn't look him in the face.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied dryly, keeping on playing with the rock.

He heard, more than saw, Alastair approaching, "Are you sure?"

"I've never been so sure in my life, why do you ask?"

"Because you've been avoiding me all evening and I cannot for the love of god understand why." to those words, uttered with sincere confusion, Thomas' head snapped up, in Alastair's direction.

He opened his eyes wide, opening his mouth slightly, "Avoiding you?" he wondered if he had heard right. When Alastair nodded, his mouth reduced to a thin line, Thomas laughed, "Are you fucking with me?"

Alastair winced at the words. It was so unusual to hear Thomas swear, that even the boy himself was left with a bitter taste in his mouth.

"What do you mean?" Alastair asked harmlessly.

"Oh my goodness, don't you really get it?" he asked bewildered, trying to figure out if the other was really joking or if he hadn't noticed the way he had behaved with him and Dalton.

Alastair's features got stiffer and he came a few steps closer, pointing a finger at his chest, "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care." he began, lowering his hand, "I came out here to tell you that if you're going to act like this for much longer, I'd rather end it here."

Thomas couldn't believe what he was saying, "You're kidding." it wasn't a question.

"No, damn it, Thomas, I'm not joking. You've been avoiding me since we got here and I thought things were going well between us. After all those fucking dates." Alastair had raised his voice and he sounded delirious. Maybe Thomas wasn't the only one who had had a bad night. "And instead I find myself forced to endure the pity of a stranger. A stranger who has realized how badly my boyfriend is treating me and who is trying to cheer me up".

Thomas was left breathless.

Boyfriend.

"What did you say?"

Alastair frowned, raising his hands to the sky and growling, "Are you serious now?"

Thomas looked him straight in the eye, "You called me your boyfriend."

The boy in front of him seemed more confused than ever, "Yes, Thomas. I called you my boyfriend."

"But you," Thomas stumbled over the words, "have been flirting with Dalton all night."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, exasperated by this quarrel that was going in two very different directions. He reached out his hands to Thomas, but immediately put them down again, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, "I tried to start a conversation with you nine times tonight. Nine." Alastair clarified, grimacing, "Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to try to explain to Dalton that the sulking and silent boy who was blatantly ignoring me and treating me like a stranger was my boyfriend?"

Thomas shook his head. He had been so stupid.

He felt so guilty he couldn't even speak.

He had treated Alastair harshly all night, convinced that he was flirting with the newcomer, when in reality he had only sought some comfort because of his behavior towards him.

He didn't realize that Alastair had kept talking until he heard him say, "and I know you hate me-".

Something in Thomas' head must have broken down, because his following words were, "Hate you? I love you!" he almost shouted.

Alastair stopped, closing his eyes for one second too long and opening his mouth slightly.

"What?"

"I love you! Are you blind?" said Thomas laughing, getting so close that he felt the warmth radiating from the other's body, "God, I love you so much that my heart burst when I look at you. And I love you so much that when I got here and saw you talking to Dalton the part of my brain that deals with logical thinking stopped working," they both laughed. Both their cheeks reddened from the cold and embarrassment.

He grabbed Alastair's face and the other one basked in that touch, "You love me."

"I love you, Alas." the boy's eyes softened and a slight smile formed on both their lips.

And then finally, Thomas leaned forward and sealed his lips on Alastair's. His tongue stroked the other's repeatedly and when he began to see us black from the lack of oxygen, Thomas broke away, sighing and laughing with their foreheads pressed together.

"I am an idiot, forgive me," whispered Thomas against his lips, closing his eyes.

Alastair smiled, kissing him again, "Forgiven," he said amusedly, "idiot."

tsc general tag list (if you want to be removed/added just send an ask or dm me)

@queenofthemoon22 @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs-blog @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen-blog @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx @abigneignenn @imherongraystairstrash @rednailpolishqueen @herondamnn @parababitch-herondale @silent-nerd-person @heronblackstairs @starryherondales @ireallyshouldsleeprn

[suchalovelydisaster]

Idol, Crush, Boyfriend, the Love of my Life/ A Cute Thomastair fic

A Thomastair fic inspired by a One Line Prompt by @katie-girl-2​ on Tumblr. Word Count: 1,739

I did also post this on ao3 

“You didn’t do the dishes,” Alastair laughed, smirking. “So I’m not doing you.” He smiled at the reaction the taller boy had to his comment. He had asked Thomas to do them before they left the flat for an enclave meeting. The two were just returning after a very uneventful meeting, save for Matthew Fairchild announcing to his friends that his older brother, Charles’s tie did not flatter the color of his eyes.

Thomas hated dishes and Alastair despised laundry so they often just did what the other hated and split the other chores. However, after Thomas went to Idris for a few days to spend time with his sister, Eugenia, Alastair was left to do not only laundry but everything else.

“That’s not fair, I was rushed,” Thomas complained.

“You had an hour!” Alastair exclaimed. He could not understand his boyfriend sometimes. 

“I was reading!” Thomas protested. James Herondale, one of his best friends, had given him a book recommendation and was completely captivated by it. “And you’re just being petty because I left you alone for a few days.” Thomas sighed as he hung up his coat and made his way over to the bookshelf where Alastair was standing. Thomas wrapped his hands around the shorter boy’s waist and leaned down to bury his head in Alastair’s neck. 

Alastair continued to look through the titles on their bookshelf, running his finger along the spines of the books. He pretended to pay no attention to the gorgeous boy leaning on his shoulder. “True,” he responded. “However, at least when I come back home I don’t make a mess of the kitchen. What do you want for dinner?” Thomas had gotten home from Idris before Alastair came back from patrol and had attempted to make a snack for himself. Alastair returned to the smell of smoke. There was a reason Thomas did not cook.

You, Thomas thought to himself. However, he restrained himself as he knew that both of them were hungry. He lifted his head, still resting it on Alastair’s shoulder, to look at the shelf of cookbooks and recipes that was just below eye level for his boyfriend. “I don’t really care, to be honest.” 

After a while, the two came to an agreement on what to have for dinner. The shorter boy cooked, telling Thomas to hand him things every once and a while. The hazel-eyed boy entertained himself by flirting with his Alastair as he cooked. 

“Help me with the dishes, Lightwood?” Alastair asked as they finished eating. He took his plate to the sink and began to run the water.  

“I suppose.” Thomas stood and walked over to his boyfriend and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. Thomas had rolled up his sleeves allowing for his tattoo to become visible. His tattoo of a compass rose with unfurling rose petals. The ink stood out beautifully against his skin and other runes that adorned his body. 

Alastair turned to Thomas and leaned up to kiss him. His hand now resting on the taller boy’s shoulder. Thomas smiled and lifted a hand to Alastair’s hair, intertwining his fingers with his dark locks. Just then, Thomas felt something fly past his ear and saw the Persian boy catch something bright. A fire message. Thomas turned off the tap as Alastair read the message. 

“It’s from Cordelia,” Alastair said, now clearly worried. “She says she wants us to meet her at the Institute. She didn’t mention why.” 

“We should go, then.” 

“Yes, do you have your weapons ready?”

“I do. And my stele is in my jacket.”

“Okay,” said Alastair, his brow still furrowed with worry. “Let us go then.”

It was a short walk to the London Institute. Alastair, however, was practically running. Thomas was able to keep at his side just by lengthening his strides. The pair arrived at the steps of the Institute shortly after departing their flat. 

Alastair rushed into the Institute meeting Cordelia and Anna Lightwood at the entrance. “Hello, Anna. Layla is everything all right?” Alastair asked, his voice filled with concern. 

“Yes, Alastair everything is fine,” Cordelia replied, taken aback by her brother’s obvious unease. “Are you alright, Alastair?” She asked. Out of the corner of his eye, Alastair saw Thomas move to speak to his cousin. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” he responded. “You just were not clear why you needed us here and I worried something had happened.” No matter the circumstance, Alastair was always ready to protect Cordelia. 

“Everything is fine Alastair,” Cordelia soothed. “I had just wanted a few extra people to be with tonight.” Normally, she and her husband, James Herondale, would have people over to play games and chat with. Since Thomas had just returned from Idris, however, both he and Alastair were meant to be exempted from tonight. Their friends had intended on allowing them to have a moment to themselves. Apparently, she had changed her mind. 

“Well then, Tom, Alastair, Daisy, I believe there are people waiting for us inside,” Anna said. Did Anna just hand something to Thomas? Alastair could have sworn he saw an exchange going from Anna’s pocket to his boyfriend’s. It was probably nothing, just a trick of the lights. The four made their way into the Institute.

“Thank you for holding onto this for me.” Thomas had whispered to Anna when he met her at the Institute steps. “I didn’t want him to see anything before we left the house.”

“It wasn’t a problem. Ari has been looking forward to this all day.” Anna replied. “Do you want to do it before we go in or-”

“Right before, that way you and Cordelia can go into the games room. Let’s pray to the Angel things go well.”

“Well then, Tom, Alastair, Daisy, I believe there are people waiting for us inside,” Anna said as she transferred the item she had been given at the enclave meeting today back to Thomas.

The Carstairs siblings and two of the Lightwoods made their way to the Institute’s games room, where, Alastair assumed, was where the Herondales and the rest of their friends were. 

“Alastair,” Thomas said, stopping in the corridor. Anna and Cordelia continued on their way to the room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” It was now clear to Alastair, that something was going on. Something he had not been made aware of. 

“Of course,” Alastair responded. He looked up at Thomas, who’s eyes were gleaming in the witchlight and wondered what he could possibly be up to. 

“I was wondering, do you know how much you mean to me, Alastair?”

Alastair smiled, at this. “I believe I do, love.” He saw Thomas smile at this response. 

Thomas spoke eloquently, “There was a time when I idolized you, I followed you around wherever you went. Years passed and I realized that the term ‘idol’ was not one that I could place for you anymore. I decided to myself that ‘crush’ was most likely the most appropriate term to use. There were some times that tested our relationship. Despite this, I knew I couldn’t live without you. I knew that I had fallen in love with you, Alastair.” 

Idol, crush, boyfriend, the love of my life. Alastair was at a loss for words as Thomas described the story of their romance. His heart swelled as he listened to the words in Thomas’s declaration of love. 

“Alastair Carstairs, my love,” Thomas said, as he lowered himself onto one knee and removed a box from his pocket. Alastair’s hand flew to his mouth, his eyes shining. “You are a man who I do not think I can live my life without.” Thomas opened the box as he asked Alastair his next question. “Will you marry me?”

Alastair was in a state of shock. They had discussed marriage in the past. His mother had asked him about it several times since he and Thomas decided to start living together. Now, here he stood, standing in front of Thomas Lightwood on one knee with the Lightwood family ring in his hand. He couldn’t hear words coming out of his mouth, but he was furiously nodding his head trying to make sure Thomas understood what his answer was. 

“Y-Yes, Thomas.” Alastair managed to choke out. “Yes, I will marry you.” 

The two shared an embrace and a kiss as Thomas slid the engagement ring onto Alastair’s finger. 

“By the Angel, I love you,” Alastair muttered as Thomas brought the smaller boy’s hand to his mouth and kissed where the Lightwood family ring now rested. 

“And I love you,” Thomas dropped Alastair’s hand and said, “Now I think there are a few people waiting for us.” 

They entered the games room to see who was waiting for them. Inside waited Thomas’s older sister, Eugenia, along with Christopher and Anna Lightwood. Lucie Herondale was standing with Cordelia, who seemed to have been waiting anxiously, James Herondale and his parabatai, Matthew Fairchild, were also lingering nearby. 

As they walked, the group looked to hazel-eyed boy anxiously. Thomas took Alastair’s left hand and raised it so the ring now gleamed in the witchlight. 

The band of shadowhunters rushed to the newly affianced couple, there were now several voices speaking at once. 

“Everyone is here,” Alastair said lovingly to Thomas. “Did you plan this?” 

“I had some help,” Thomas responded, gesturing to Anna and Cordelia, he was beaming. 

“When Thomas asked Mother and Father’s blessing, I told him that he had to let me help,” Cordelia stated as she moved away from her husband to hug Alastair. 

“And he came to me for advice because none of the other thieves would have been helpful for this,” Anna stated.

“Excuse me-,” Matthew protested.

“That’s fair,” Christopher and James agreed.

“I’m just glad you didn’t figure anything out when I came back from Idris,” Thomas said.

“Wait-that’s why you went to Idris?” Alastair inquired.

“He came to ask me to come to see the two of you after he proposed,” Eugenia Lightwood stated, breaking her silence. She too was smiling with the same grin Thomas had on his face.

As the group continued to say things to each other and the couple, Thomas leaned down and kissed Alastair on the cheek, “I love you,” he muttered 

“And I love you,” Alastair responded, this was truly the best night of his life. 

[jessamine--lovelace]

lightstairs headcanons for @yokrypton

they always sneak out to see each other. this second Thomas is home and the next one he's gone. the family got used to it his sisters still tease him from time to time

they visit each other in the most random times (read: alastair wakes up to thomas at his window at 1am)

Alastair punishes Thomas for being a tease by making him the big spoon

thomas loves to wake up alastair in the middle of the night to tell him he loves him. alastair throws a pillow at his face before hugging him tightly and whispering a soft I love you too before falling back asleep

thomas dirty talks in persian and alastair is so here for that

this is all I have for now all that is not dirty tbh

[adiffident]

Why are M/M ships better written than W/W ones?

I'm no master in literature by any means but this really bugs me. I've read Six of Crows, All for the Game, The Raven Cycle, Call down the hawk, the entirety of the Shadowhunter Chronicles and all those books have really compelling gay couples. In the Shadowhunter universe Magnus x Alec (TyxKit, AlastairxThomas) are more fleshed out and have gotten so much extra content in recent years. Anna x Ariadne and Aline x Helen are pretty nice and all but not as thrilling. I've thought about it for a while but in my mind the dynamic between m/m couples cannot be translated into w/w and those seem cute but a littly bland to me or the synopsis of books just doesn't interest me.

I've gone out of my way to search for explicit lgbtq books and during this time I've devoured some in a couple of days.

Running with Lions(Julian Winters): really cute and thrilling, i've had several moments where I've been fistpumping the air (m/m, bisexual protagonist)

Her Royal Highness(Rachel Hawkins): also cute, somewhat unrealistic (f/f, bisexual protagonist)

Not your Sidekick (C. B. Lee) interesting world, absolutely predictable, cute couple (f/f, bisexual protagonist) (also read Not your Villain and want to read Not your Backup for the ace Rep)

Red, White & Royal Blue (Casey McQuiston) damn what a book, great parallel universe, love too see it some day.. absolutely thrilling storyline (which is somewhat similar to Her Royal Highness but better) actually made me believe in the goodness of American politics (which says a lot because I am european and hate the US government for various disgusting crimes they've comitted during history) (m/m, bisexual protagonist)

My conlusion after reading these books: I liked the f/f ones but the m/m where just objectively better. Am I going crazy, reading the wrong books or not enjoying them as much as I should...? Don't get me wrong I love every rep we can get but I am annoyed. And I also don't want to be the girl that only reads m/m books because that can be wrongfully interpreted in the feteshizing kind of way (bc I find sex generally uninteresting as I am ace, I just love the chemistry baby).

Has anyone had similar problems or can recommend great books who are in line with my previous reads?

Can someone please discuss this with me I am begging ya'll 🙃

[coasttocoastreads]

It’s Week 4 and Zoom University™️ is murdering me. But while ignoring my long backlog of lectures to watch, I stayed up until four to finish this book:

Chain of Gold // Cassandra Clare

★★★★ / ★★★★★ 

Summary in one gif:

Real Summary:

We return to the world of The Infernal Devices, this time focusing on the next generation of Shadowhunters of the London Institute. After years of peace, London’s tranquility is broken by a series of bizarre demon attacks. James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, and their friends must figure out who is behind the attacks while navigating their own complex relationships with each other and their families. 

Pros:

women with swords!

very nuanced characters

mutual Pining

Cons:

wayyyyy too many characters are introduced at once

slow af in beginning

Plot: 4/5

The overall plot seemed very standard shadowhunters with some new demon orchestrating everything, etc. etc. I was really taken in by the intricacies of the families plot though, like what was happening with each of their different families. The little flashback chapters in between the longer ones were also nice insights into each of the characters. However, I do think this book could have been a lot better if the ending wasn’t already pre-determined due to this being a prequel series? Like Cassis Clare has kind of written herself into a spot where she can only fill in the blanks and not really change the ending, yanno.

Pacing: 3/5

The first half was really slow and I definitely put down the book several times. But by the end, I had to read the rest in one go because lots of things were happening and I had to find out how it ended. 

Worldbuilding: 4/5 I guess???

I mean she mostly built the world up with her other books? It was cool to see the idea of separate universes once again, even though Ragnor Fell’s explanation of them wasn’t super clear. I also. Really want. More Asian Shadowhunters. From the Asian Institutes. 

Characters: 6/5

It was initially really hard to keep track of who’s who since they’re all related and stuff but WOW I LOVE ALL OF THEM. The way they all interact is very precious and like squad goals???? Like I don’t even care that much about like shipping characters I just want them to be happy and do dumb things together 🥺 Literally Alastair and Cordelia are the most precious siblings ever and I want many many books featuring just them and their childhood. 

Also Lucie is a precious bean and I would die for her.

I’d recommend for:

People who loved TID

People who like found family tropes!

People who have big brains and can keep all the names straight

Would I travel here?

Can I? Please? I just want to meet Cordelia and be her friend 🥺🥺

Overall thoughts:

Cassie Clare is killing me with the angst but I like. Need more. Also everyone just needs a hug. 

I have no idea what I’m reading next, but see y’all,

Tiff

Spoilers under cut

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I SAID I WASN’T INVESTED IN SHIPPING BUT I AM????? JUST A LITTLE BIT??????

I don’t...actually ship...James and Cordelia...Cordelia and Matthew endgame please

I know the family tree says differently...but I have theories please ask me about them

Do i have to write something for them I might

secret...arrangement...

their characters complement each other so well????? Like I felt so bad when he walked in on James and Cordelia in the Whispering Room

Sad pining boi who won’t tell the girl how he feels so he won’t hurt his friend I’m weak

ALASTAIR IS PRECIOUS AND MUST BE PROTECTED

like the flashback scene where he came home and told Cordelia what he was doing at the Academy made me so sad :((((((

WHERE’S THE ALASTAIRxTHOMAS CONTENT

Charles is a loser and that’s the hill I’ll die on

Fake marriage/engagement??? Not my favorite trope but we’ll see where it goes I guess? istg if they actually get married and they really fall in love on the way imma push them into the Thames I don’t like jordelia (?)

ANNA LIGHTWOOD IS AN ICON

honestly i ship anna x cordelia more than jordelia but okay

Sona is an eternal mood 

Also why are all the asian/middle eastern characters half white... there’s Jem, Aline, Cordelia and Alastair... I’m tired of this...

[ariadnebridgestock]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN!

ty naomi!! so this is way overdue since my birthday celebration is now technically last year but i am going to finally get this done soon lol, i will tag you once i get the edit done!! uwu

[angrytalecritic]

I beg your highness queen of the Shadow hunter world @cassandraclare could we have a wessa novella too? (and let the tlh novella be AlastairxThomas pleaaase)

Hiii! Hope you're staying safe. Is it true that there's a possibility we might get a Blackstairs travel year novella? If yes THANK UUU!

It’s possible. There are a ton of projects I’d like to work on — a Jules and Emma novella collection, a Clace one, one that follows a character from TLH — but nothing like that’s scheduled since TWP would be my priority for the next thing I put on schedule, and TLH has to be close to finished first. Alas that there are only so many hours in a day! 

[julemmaes]

Another thomastair with "hate you? I could never hate you! I love you!" 💜

Hate You - October 9th

Alastair Carstairs x Thomas Lightwood

A/N: This is angsty, like really angsty. It’s also very short cause I felt like I wasn’t getting Thomas character at all with this one, hence, I’m a sad bitch right now and I really want to cry. I hope you like it tho so, enjoy!:)

Word count: 1,765

Thomas had just finished patrolling with Christopher when he arrived at the Institute to declare that there had been no suspicious sightings. Only a couple of demons that they had managed to put down easily and without too much trouble. They were talking about this and that and Thomas couldn't wait to finally take off his uniform and eat whatever the ladies in the kitchen had cooked.

He could already feel the water rushing over him, the icore peeling off his skin and the sponge scratching away every bit of dust. His dreams were immediately shattered when they heard someone screaming in the training room as they walked through the front door.

Christopher gave him a worried look before he started running down the hall. Thomas prayed with every fiber of his being that no one was hurt and that the screams were just cries of effort. He doubted very much that it was just grunts and cries when they heard what was clearly Cordelia's voice screaming her brother's name.

Thomas snapped, speeding up even more and slamming into one of the doors when he stood in the gym.

There were three bodies on the ground and Thomas could make out each one perfectly.

Matthew was sitting astride Alastair's lying body, hands tight around his neck. James was trying to pull up his parabatai, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. Cordelia moved before him, grabbing Matthew by the arm and pulling back.

The blond looked her in the face. His features twisted with anger and his bloodshot eyes told Thomas enough about his friend's condition.

Alastair seemed motionless under Matthew, hands around the other's wrists and eyes as wide open as his mouth in a silent scream. James was shouting that he had done enough, that it was enough, but the other one seemed numb.

Thomas moved quickly. He ran towards the group of his friends and jumped forward with his whole body, ousting Matthew from above Alastair, making him leave the grip on the Carstairs' neck.

In the action, Cordelia had been thrown backwards and now she was lying on the ground next to them, leaning on both elbows as she watched the scene, distraught.

Thomas looked down, he laying down over Matthew's body as he held both of his wrists with his hands as he struggled. Matthew's witty gaze frightened him more than it should have. What on earth had he been drinking?

He cast a quick glance at James, who had already got up and thought Thomas was more than capable of holding Matthew down. The friend approached Alastair, who was coughing bent forward, one hand on his throat and his cheeks ridged with tears.

Lucie was helping Cordelia standing.

"What happened?" whispered Thomas, unable to find the voice to speak.

Matthew snarled at him like a fierce beast, writhing and screaming to let him go. The grip on his wrists only became firmer.

Lucie spoke for the others, realizing that James was too shocked to answer, "We don't know. We were training, we had to start the next patrol as soon as you guys got back-" she froze when Alastair pushed James away.

"Don't touch me," he growled through his teeth. A grimace appeared on his face, probably because of the pain talking caused.

"Alastair..." called Thomas.

"Be quiet."

They heard quick steps and then Will and Gabriel appeared at the door. Both their faces contorted in an expression of pure horror.

Gabriel was the first to move, shooting towards James and Alastair still on the floor. Will took a second longer to react as he clutched the door between his fingers, looking for support. Lucie approached her father, clenching her fists.

"Dad-"

"What happened?" Will asked with the tone he took when he had to speak to the Council.

"It wasn't Matthew's fault," James said, getting up and walking towards him.

Matthew underneath Thomas wouldn't stop writhing, "Let go of me, damn it!"

Thomas was forced to let go of the grip on his wrists and stand up. James immediately took his place as he held Matthew to his chest and told him to calm down.

"Fairchild tried to kill me," Alastair said in a scratchy voice.

Gabriel gasped, helping the boy to stand. He turned to his son, looking for confirmation. Christopher would never lie. He raised his hands, shaking his head, looking as sorry and frightened as every other person in the room by his friend's ambiguous behavior, "We just got back, but Matthew was actually strangling Alastair."

James nodded, with dark eyes, "He was drinking, someone must have put something in his drink. I've never seen him so worked up," he confessed, holding his parabatai.

Will nodded, looking like an exact copy of his son, addressing Gabriel, "Go get Charlotte and Henry and," he cursed under his breath as he rubbed his hand over his face, "The Carstairs and all the others, too. Magnus Bane as well, please. Send Tessa to my office."

Gabriel nodded for confirmation and then took one last look at his nephews and his son as he left the room. Will stepped forward and put one hand on Matthew's shoulder, the other behind his neck, to hold his head still. He cast a quick glance at James over the boy's shoulder, and immediately returned to stare at Matthew.

Thomas looked to his left, where Cordelia was drawing a iratze on her brother's neck.

Alastair did not seem as upset as you would expect from someone who had just been suffocated.

"Matthew, it's Will. William Herondale." he said to him with a serious look, "Do you recognize me?" he asked.

The blond didn't even seem to hear him. "Behind you, holding you, is Jamie, James. My son. Your parabatai." to that, Matthew seemed to stop for a moment. His frantic movements and facial tics resumed shortly after.

Will pulled himself up, taking a deep breath through his nose and turned to his daughter, "Lucie, could I borrow your stele please?"

James stepped back, carrying his friend's back too, "What do you want to do?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"I just want to put him to sleep," Will replied, looking conflicted.

James shook his head, "I can do that."

His father looked him in the eye, really looked him in the eye, seeing all kinds of emotions. Emotions that he himself had experienced many times in his short life alongside their Uncle Jem. "I won't ask you to do it, Jamie."

There were no other words, just the head of the Institute silencing those inhuman sounds produced by their friend and his parabatai supporting him as he fell to the ground, helpless.

Afterwards, everything was very slow. The parents arrived immediately, Sona and Charlotte equally worried, and the children and friends who had been present during the attack were questioned by Will and Tessa.

Thomas and Christopher went to take a shower and were not let through the Institute wing where they were making things clear when they finished. Anna had arrived half an hour later and apparently had been assigned to distract them because she wouldn't stop asking them what they wanted to do to kill the time.

Thomas had kindly asked her if he could stay alone and she had granted his wishes, leaving him alone and taking Christopher with her.

Now he was standing on the steps of the entrance to the Institute and was torturing his hands, trying to understand what had just happened.

He heard the door open and close gently and then someone ran down the stairs.

He didn't have time to turn around to see who it was, Alastair was already down the stairs and was marching towards the exit, his hands hidden in his pockets and his head clutched between his shoulders.

He did not think twice before getting up and running after him.

There was no need to call him because he turned around as soon as he heard the sound of Thomas' boots on the gravel.

Alastair wrinkled his forehead, "What do you want?"

Thomas did not notice the irritated tone of voice, but he had to refrain from jerking when he saw the other one's wet cheeks, "How are you?"

"What do you think? Your friend tried to kill me," he said.

"What happened?" he asked sincerely curious to know his side of the story.

Alastair's eyes darkened and his expression grew grim, "What do you want, Lightwood?"

"I just want to know if you need anything." Thomas murmured, closing in.

He laughed sarcastically, "Why don't you stop pretending to care about me?" he asked as he walked away, "Why don't you go back to your perfect little house with your sisters and your cousins and your divine companionship and leave me alone?"

Thomas really didn't understand where all that anger towards him came from, but he thought he would be angry too if someone had just tried to choke him to death.

"I don't want to leave you alone right now. I think you need to be distracted and-"

"You really don't get it when someone wants to be alone, do you?" Alastair raved, raising his hands to the sky. Thomas did not answer.

The boy was looking at him with vaguely shiny eyes. He looked away, groaning, "Go back to the others. I know you hate me as much as any other person in this Institute," Alastair muttered.

Thomas' expression didn't change one bit and in the most serious tone he had ever used he said, "Hate you? I could never hate you... I love you."

Alastair did not even take the time to process what he had just been told, "You don't know what you are talking about."

"I love you, Alastair." repeated Thomas, closing in enough so that his face was just a few inches from his own.

Alastair looked him straight in the eye and Thomas saw not an ounce of emotion in those dark pools, "It doesn't work this way," he whispered, clenching his fists.

He turned around and started walking towards the exit, never looking back. Thomas didn't have the strength to follow him, to stop him. The rejection a pain strong enough to block his breath in his throat.

He didn't move from where he stood until James shouted his name from the Institute. Only then did he turn to his friend, and as if nothing had happened he walked to the infirmary, pretending that the conversation he had just had with Alastair had not utterly shattered him.

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@queenofthemoon22  @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs-blog @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx @abigneignenn @imherongraystairstrash @rednailpolishqueen @herondamnn @parababitch-herondale @silent-nerd @heronblackstairs @starryherondales @ireallyshouldsleeprn

[julemmaes]

His love beside him

“When are you going to realize that I don’t care about you?“

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs angst os

OH BOY, I MEAN

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH BUT I GOTTA KEEP HURTING THEM AND I’M NOT THAT BRAVE TO END ‘EM BAD SO YEAH IT IS ANGSTY BUT ALASTAIR DESERVES TO BE HAPPY

FUCK EVERYTHING

Word count: 3,838

The boy ran a hand over his face holding in a sob. Everything hurt.

The waters of the Thames seemed to want to take him and pull him down, the waves rising bigger every second and the splashes on the wall did not struggle to reach where he was sitting, on the edge of the wall, which ended overhanging the turbid waters. A drop fell on his cheek and the twitch of his eye made him sigh.

He shook his head. No, he would not have cried any more tears that evening. Too many had already been shed. He winced when he touched his cheekbone. He could already feel his skin swelling around his eye as he was struggling to keep it open. He put a finger to his eyebrow and did nothing but touch it that a sharp pain took over his whole face. He dropped his hand, swearing. He wanted to forget everything, get lost for a few hours, but just the idea of touching a bottle of alcohol made his stomach turn. He touched his pocket for the ninth time hoping to find his stelee there, and for the ninth time he ended disappointed. He must have left it to Cordelia.

He took a deep breath thinking of his Layla and his brother, so small, yet forced to grow up quickly, in a house more broken than the one where he had grown up in. He was just hoping the Herondales were calming them down. When he had left her at the Institute with Kia a few hours before she was trembling and had not yet cried, or said a word, since they had left their house.

He knew that James and Matthew were not there when they arrived, the same was true for Lucie, who was now in Idris, but at least William and Tessa would be able to soothe her. And as soon as James knew what had happened he would run to the Institute. He must have caught up with her by now.

Maybe Alastair should have gone back too, he thought, to check on them. But every time he tried to get up the enormity of what had just happened would pour down on him and an invisible force would push him back to the ground.

He tightened the grip around the lamppost, which was off and let the shadows move as they wanted.

That night, he came home exhausted, physically and mentally, from patrolling with Charles and two other shadowhunters their age. The two had remained on good terms after he had broke up with him at James and his sister’s engagement party, but Charles continued to ask him if there was someone else, if he had found someone to keep him company, Not that loved him, as if their relationship had always represented that. As if Alastair represented a lady-in-waiting every time Charles wasn’t in Alicante speaking politics.

I worry about you, Charles told him to justify his nosey character, but Alastair knew he was only doing it so he could have control over his life again. He hadn’t felt love for Charles for some months now, his heart already belonged to someone else, but his chest still tightened whenever they were in the same room.

He had just walked two steps from the door, when his father had stormed out of the kitchen, holding onto the door frame with a dirty hand. The wrinkled hair and clothes and shiny red eyes were enough to show what conditions Elias was in in that moment. And in case the breath that smelled of alcohol and his appearance were not enough proof of his state of intoxication, surely the bottle of gin in the other hand would confirm someone’s suspicions. Alastair couldn’t remember the last time his father was sober.

During Sona’s pregnancy, Elias was sent to the Basilias to get cured and a he came out a new man. Or at least that’s what his mother and sister kept saying once he got home.

Alastair had known him as a drunkard, a slacker, someone too scared to face the reality, but when he was released after the trial, Cordelia had forced himself to be cured. She had begged on his knees and their father had looked at her with tears in his eyes, nodding, shocked. He had thrown himself down next to her, asking for forgiveness and repeating words that to Alastair’s ears had seemed pointless.

No one would give him back his childhood anyway, but he had agreed to go with him up to Alicante and had allowed himself to be hugged when his father had sought comfort in him, feeling for half a second a dash of affection towards the man.

Yet Alastair could not find even a spark of that love as he watched him stumble towards him. He had grabbed his shoulder to keep him standing, when his legs didn’t seem firm enough to hold him up, but he had pushed him against the wall and he had come so close to his face that it was difficult to suppress the gag that had gone up in his throat to the strong smell of sweat and alcohol that his father emanated, "Have at least the decency to do it in your room."

Elias had opened an eye to look at him and then laughed in his face before being shaken by a gag and vomiting on his gear and boots. Clothes he was still wearing.

He looked at his chest holding his breath and, with his hand on his collar, decided that he would rather die of cold than look like a drunken tramp and began to untie the upper part of the gear. As he took his shirt off his head, he touched his face and clenched his teeth to suppress a grunt of pain. He had to find a stelee, and he had to do it fast. The longer he waited, the more the bruise would stay there in perfect view so that everyone could think about what reckless life he led. Not that he cared anyway.

Elias was drinking again right after Sona died. While suckling Kia sitting on the couch, he was draining liters and liters of wine or any kind of alcohol that was in the house. At the beginning he was good at keeping it a secret, but when the empty bottles hidden under the sofa had begun to tinkle, the older children had discovered him and Kia was no longer alone with his father. Not one goddamn time.

When Cordelia found him in those conditions, things ended quickly. She took him out of the chair and, bearing his father’s weight, took him to his room, where he fainted from the amount of alcohol ingested. When Alastair came home to a drunk father, he couldn’t help himself and they started fighting until one of them threw the first punch and the son had to block him before he could break something or get really hurt.

But that night he had only commented that if he would have ever become half the man that Elias had never been, then he could have considered himself proud. His father had straightened up and Alastair hadn’t seen the first punch coming. He had fallen on the ground and had hit his head so hard against the baseboard that he had been stunned for a few seconds and had not been able to react with the same promptness as always.

It was Cordelia who had taken his father off him, who, exhausted by the sprint he had just taken to hit Alastair, did not react at all when he had fallen on the ground. She had taken the minimum necessary and kept Kia on her side, the child’s head hidden in her neck, before running to the Institute. Elias didn’t even try to follow them.

Alastair trembled. The white shirt that remained on him was of no use against the stinging air of London. He turned to look down at the river. A twinge of pain passed through his head and carrying his hand to the back of his nape, hissing when he touched the point where a open cut spread right over the hairline. He decided that yes, he had to go back to the Institute. Most likely he had a concussion and walking around the streets of London half-naked at that hour, with an open wound, it was just a call for trouble.

He heard the sound of swift steps to his right and slightly bending his neck, he saw the blurry figure of a man running towards him. He was yelling something, probably Alastair’s name, because whatever he was saying, the sound was familiar. He blinked his eyes trying to focus, but couldn’t. He put his head on the pole that had supported him until that moment and almost fell back into the black waters of the Thames. A warm hand with a firm grip closed around his arm, blocking his fall, and he vaguely heard the voice of the stranger repeating his name.

His head was starting to spin really hard. He giggled, thinking how ironic it would be if he fell into the river, too, like Cordelia did almost two years ago. The Enclave would certainly have thought that their family had some kind of affinity for fish if they wanted to swim so much.

He felt two muscular arms wrapping around his waist while who had saved him from certain death tried to make him lie down on the ground, putting a hand behind his neck and slowly resting his head on the cold stone. He felt the stranger curse and then the warm and familiar feeling of the stelee on his neck. And then again on his wrist.

He moaned when someone put on him what was supposed to be a jacket and the warmth entered his veins. They sat him up and he found his forehead leaning against someone’s shoulder, someone who smelled something he would recognize everywhere. Lightwood.

A few seconds passed and Alastair was immediately hyperaware of what surrounded him. His head always in the hollow of Thomas' neck while he drew the umpteenth iratze on his neck. And then suddenly he found himself staring into his face, eyes starring eyes, lips a few inches away.

Thomas seemed to realize that the other was at least able to see him, and he sighed with relief, closing his eyes for a second, before taking his chin between his fingers and turning his head sideways. Alastair wasn’t breathing. A little bit for the pain that went gradually diminishing in the eye, a little bit because the last person he would have wanted to see in that moment had just saved his life.

"I’ve been looking for you for the last two and a half hours." breathed Thomas softly, so close to his face that he felt the breath of warm air against his nose, "Cordelia was going crazy when I arrived. There’s James with her now." at the name of his sister he snapped, moving the boy off of him, but dizziness hit him and the other was there to steady him. Alastair shook him off with a sharp movement and saw Thomas' eyebrows squirting upward.

"Did you walk here?" asked Alastair surly.

Thomas seemed confused for a moment, "Of course I walked here. I needed to find and the carriage would have slowed me down." said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Thomas needing to find him was the most normal thing.

"Where are we?" Alastair asked looking around and not recognizing the place, the head pain almost completely vanished.

"We are close to the Victoria Embankment Gardens," Thomas said, taking a hesitant step towards him, "we are only twenty minutes from the Institute."

"Perfect." he whispered, turning to Thomas, picking up the jacket that had slipped off him and passing it to him. "Thank you for finding me. And for the runes." he said without looking him in the eye. Only in that moment did he realize how much the other seemed shaken, heavy breaths coming out of his lips, sweat dripping down his forehead, on his neck and inside the neckline of his shirt… He looked away quickly, turning towards the other side of the river and deciding whether to pass by the riverside or inland.

"Alastair." Thomas' voice was almost inaudible, but Alastair heard it as loud as a thunder "Maybe you should sit down, you hit your head pretty strong and you might have complications if you don’t relax for a second."

Alastair suddenly turned to him, taking a threatening step in his direction. The other one didn’t move an inch, "What do you know about my head?" he almost growled at him.

"I-" Thomas muttered, "I don’t know, I was just worried about you. The others told me that you were injured and that you practically fled before they could hold you. I don’t know what happened." he said in a hurry. "I left as soon as they told me you were out here unarmed. The others are looking for you, too." Thomas finished, reaching out to him, his coat still hanging in between them. Alastair moved to the side, avoiding his touch and the other flinched as if something had burned him.

"Good. Because nothing happened. Now excuse me, but I have to go to my family." Alastair said, sounding almost awkward. He was about to pass him and walk towards the Institute, when Thomas grabbed him by the arm stopping him, and Alastair trembled for the hundredth time that night, only this time it wasn’t the cold. "Let. Me. Go." he said through his teeth.

"No. Who gave you that black eye?"

Thomas' voice seemed much more confident than a few seconds before and the other found himself thinking they wouldn’t leave so soon. Because he wouldn’t talk and Thomas wouldn’t let him go until he did. But he might as well try.

"It’s none of your business. And I’m sure James has already told you everything." Because Cordelia definitely told her husband what happened.

"I already told you. I left the second I knew you were unarmed. I don’t know anything about what happened. And the sooner you tell me who did this to you, the sooner you can go and do whatever you want." Thomas answered in tone, looking for his gaze. "As long as what you want doesn’t include jumping into the Thames." he ended with a sarcastic smile. And Alastair realized what he was trying to do. He was holding him there to prevent him from running to the Institute and turning his brain to mush.

"I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Lightwood, so let me go. I gotta get back to Cordelia." he said freeing himself from Thomas’s grip and starting to walk towards Fleet Street. He thought he had made it when the imposing figure of the other appeared before him and he almost hit his nose on Thomas’s chest. He closed his eyes clenching his fists, trying to calm down.

"Move out of my way."

"No."

"Move. I said."

"And I said no." he came even closer, forcing him to step back. "Cordelia must be sleeping at this time," they both knew that was a lie and that, until all the Carstairs siblings were under the same roof, the girl wouldn’t sleep a wink, "Kai as well. So tell me what the hell happened tonight."

"Why do you even care?" even as he said it, Alastair realized how stupid that question was.

He knew full well that Thomas had very strong feelings for him, had stopped hiding them a few months after Alastair’s sister’s marriage, when he had let slip that he had broken up with Charles once and for all, coming out in front of the whole group of friends.

They had started going out more often and there was some stolen kisses, but nothing more. Alastair had stopped reaching out to him when they found out about his father’s relapse, withdrawing into himself.

Not because he was ashamed. No. It wasn’t his thing to be ashamed of. But if something like tonight had happened while Thomas was there with him, he would never forgive himself. There were things, as Shadowhunters, that Alastair could not spare him, but that nonsense that seemed so far from their world, so human, that, he could keep it away from the best part of himself. If it touched Thomas he would become black and dark like everything else in his life, and he could not allow the one light that pushed him forward to go out. He just couldn’t do it.

As he looked away at anything other than the boy in front of him, he heard Thomas laughing, but there was no amusement in that sound. He saw with the corner of his eye that the other was moving to the side, and when he turned to him, he had a hand reaching towards the road, now free from all restrictions. Alastair hesitated, ready to snap sideways if he tried to stop him again, but it didn’t happen, and Thomas stood still behind him.

Until, "Go, Alastair. Go. But just so you know, I’m not gonna wait for you forever."

Everything around him stopped. The wind among the leaves, the roar of the river. His heart.

"I can’t take it anymore." Thomas said in a lower voice, "I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what your aim is. I don’t know what you want me to do." He took a shivering breath, rubbing his hand on his face, "First, you kiss me-t."

"It was you who kissed me." Alastair interrupted him, remembering the first time Thomas had stooped on him and had laid his lips on-

"Does it really matter?" he asked in an exasperated tone, staying two metres from Alastair, who continued to turn his back on him. "Because I think I’m falling in love with you, Alastair. And I’m terrified." Thomas said, moving towards him, "And I can’t understand why you do this. You push me away and I’m here, loving you, and I see you, Alas. I see you." Thomas' voice was reduced to a whisper now. “I see the way you think you’re all tough and strong. But you don’t have to. If you just let me-”

The tone so hoarse that he hardly recognized his own voice when, without looking at him, he asked him, "When are you going to realize that I don’t care about you?"

Alastair did not see him, but he felt the moment when Thomas’ heart disintegrated. He felt it because his own lay at his feet, cut into pieces. His throat tightened and he thought he could die when Thomas spoke, "This is not who you are." he murmured, keeping his tears at bay. Alastair turned around, quickly closing the distance between them and throwing both hands on Thomas’s chest, who, taken aback, tripped on his own feet, backing away a few steps. An expression of complete betrayal on the face.

"You don’t know anything about me. Much less who I am! So stop!" Now Alastair was screaming and his eyes filled with tears as he approached Thomas again, beating his fists on his chest one more time, "You know nothing! Nothing!" he screamed on his face, looking him in the eyes. "You can’t come and save the day as if it is nothing and say you love me, Thomas! You just can’t, fuck!" he raised his voice even more when he broke down and hot tears of anger rushed down his cheeks.

Thomas, frowny eyebrows, utter shock on his features, looked wide-eyed at a completely broken Alastair. He took his wrists in his hands and when he tried to free himself, he squeezed tighter. A particularly strong sob broke through Alastair, who crouched on the other and Thomas could only carry his arms around the boy he loved and who was now slowly fallin apart under his eyes.

"I don’t want you to end up like me." Alastair finally whispered. Thomas felt his heart breaking again and wondered how it was possible. He squeezed him tighter as he kept crying.

"I won’t end up like you. I promise." he whispered kissing his temple, bringing a hand to caress his head, being carefl not to touch the now-healed wound. "And I promise you that whatever it is, Alastair, we’ll work through it together. You’re not alone in this." he had to clear his throat before he could continue.

"I love you, Alas, I’ve always loved you and this matter never made me doubt my love for you. There hasn’t been a second in my entire life that I’ve looked at you and I haven’t thought about how much you’re worth it." he cupped Alastair’s cheeks in his hands, pressing their forheads together, his eyes closed. "I love you."

Alastair opened his eyes, tiptoeing to kiss him and Thomas went down on him, meeting him halfway, smashing their lips in a kiss full of desperation. He was kissing him as he had kissed him the first time, with passion, as if it were something he could do all day without ever getting tired. The guttural sound that came out of Thomas' mouth made Alastair separate his lips slightly and Thomas took the hint, wrapping his tongue with that of the boy in front of him, in a harmonious dance that didn’t need no music. The only sound that of their breaths mixing to form a battle cry. They moved gracefully, as if they had done it for years and their hands traveled on each other’s bodies, uniting as teeth and tongues collided, ravenous.

They broke off from one another only when the lack of oxygen made them see everything black and were forced to catch their breath.

Alastair was still crying, but now on, his swollen lips, there was a shy smile.

He had his arms wrapped around Thomas' neck and Thomas was holding him, his hands hidden under the thin white fabric of Alastair’s shirt. Every spot where his body came into contact with the skin of the other, burned and in that moment he really believed he could survive only of that feeling.

"What special treatment do you keep for the people you care about if you leave this one to the ones you don’t care about?" Thomas joked, holding him tighter. Alastair laughed and put his head between his neck and his shoulder, whispering idiot.

And after so much time spent denying what he felt for Thomas, he even allowed himself to believe that he would have made it through everything if he had his love beside him.

And he promised himself not to let his light turn off, ever. He would not allow anyone to break what they had just conquered.

taglist:

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm ​ @panicatwallmaria

[julemmaes]

Thomastair prompt: something angsty, one of them almost dying in battle (with a happy ending pls)

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs war au

PART ONE

SO, this is very short but very intense and it definitely needs a part two, but my dad just came back home and told us we were leaving in thirty minutes to go on holiday (don’t ask me why, I have no fucking clue, anyway) and I really wanted to post something so here it is, I hope you like it cause it shredded my heart:))

Words count: 1,346

Thomas didn't know where he was. He was lost.

Or rather, he knew it, but he knew he would never find help in this part of the battlefield. He knew that if he tried to call for help, only enemies would come and finish him off and their bodies would never be brought back to England, by their families.

A picture of his mother flashed in his mind, but it went as fast as it came, leaving him alone one more time.

He couldn't feel the left side of his face. Where seconds earlier he had perceived a sizzle and the smell of burnt flesh followed by a searing pain that had blinded him, now there was nothing. He tried to raise his hand, but something heavy was blocking his left side. He could not see whose corpse was perched next to him, the skin now melted around his eye.

He managed to turn his head to the right and the strength left in his body was so small that he did not even have the courage to try to cry while two golden eyes stared lifelessly at him. He took a deep breath and the smell of blood and mud and devastation and death almost took him over the edge. It would not be the first time he vomited on himself, but that was a privilege he could only afford during the first days at the front, when they still had enough food to afford to waste it on mere human reactions.

Thomas closed his eyes, moving his right arm towards James's body and praying to all the existing gods that the corpse on the other side was not Matthew's or Christopher's.

The earth shook beneath him.

Another bomb.

It must have fallen very close to them because James had moved and was now much closer. Thomas could smell his rotting skin. He could see the nuances in his eyes, shining brightly from the fires all over the field. He had a hole in his head. The wound from the blow was almost immaculate, just a trickle of blood running down his forehead.

He wondered if he also had gunshot wounds or if he had only been hit by acid.

He tried to get away from there, lifting one knee and crawling back. He tilted his chin up and almost laughed when he saw the stars sparkling in the pitch-black sky. Their flickering seemed to mock him as if they were laughing. He stood watching the dark night for some more time, enjoying the company of one of his oldest friends. That would be the last time he would see James.

He could hear the constant gunfire and grenade casings. He could hear the screams of soldiers falling, one after the other, as the enemy wiped them out. He could hear the hooves of the few horses still alive, pawing through the blood-red ground as they searched for a way out.

He had managed to move again, moving so far away from his friend, that even tilting his head to the side, he could not see him. He rolled to his side with a grunt and his head sank rested in a puddle of blood.

There were so many bodies.

So many sons and daughters.

And fathers and mothers.

The gunfire continued. The bombs wouldn't stop exploding and Thomas couldn't react.

The continuous whistle that followed the detonation of any weapon had become normal when suddenly it stopped. The silence welcomed Thomas and a new rush of adrenaline flowed through his body. He smiled.

Everything was so quiet. The bodies stopped having faces and the stars were now weeping, no longer making fun of the young soldier. He saw the few left standing running in groups to the enemy front line and lying on the ground in a flash, while their backpacks cushioned the falls. Some of them had their mouths open, and Thomas realized they were screaming, but to him, it seemed they were laughing. What for, exactly, he didn't know either.

He was about to get up, he had managed to lean on one arm and now he was sitting down. He looked around, looking at the bodies of James and Matthew and Christopher only ten feet away from him. His gut twisted and then, what little food he had eaten in the last few days was outside his body.

They were all dead. They were all dead. They were all dead.

The buzzing started again, from a high-pitched annoying sound to a rumble so loud that Thomas had to bring his hands to his ears as he slumped down again and screamed. And screamed.

And nobody could hear him.

The rumble continued until it reached a deafening volume and with a loud burst, it stopped again, reopening the boy's mind to the sounds of war, to the cries of despair that they all called the same thing. Salvation.

Thomas fainted.

Something hard hit him in the face and Thomas snapped up, gritting his teeth to the breaking point and screaming in pain when he noticed the piece of metal protruding from his right hip. The uniform completely soaked in blood confirmed to him that it must have been a relatively new wound, because the feel of warm blood coming out was something he knew well and when he had moved before, he had had no other wounds other than the one on his face.

He was thrown backward by a strong hand on his shoulder and when he opened his eyes, already glossy from the unexpected awakening, he burst into tears seeing who was in front of him.

Alastair.

“Yes Thomas, it's me.” sobbed the other boy.

Thomas couldn't believe it. He didn't want to.

Alastair’s face twisted in a grim expression as the tears traced their path through the smeared blood on his cheeks made him even more beautiful in Thomas' eyes.

When the younger sobbed, Alastair leaned over him, looking closer at the wound on his face and shifting his gaze from the swollen flesh to the still good eye. "Shit-"

“Am I still handsome?” asked Thomas in a hoarse voice due to the screams and the fact that he hadn't spoken in hours, days, weeks.

Alastair smiled despite the situation, despite the tears, “You're the man of my life, don't you think I'm biased?” the worry, the sorrow, everything in Alastair's eyes told Thomas that he had very little left to live. He reached out one hand to hold something when he felt the other one’s, he sighed, closing his eyes. “You're beautiful, as always.”

Thomas chuckled and then flinched when a twinge of pain ran through his entire body. Alastair moved quickly, looking for something in the pockets of his uniform. “I know you're in a very critical situation, but can you move?” When Thomas didn't answer, Alastair tried another question, a risky question. “Tom, where just the others?”

Thomas couldn't open his eyes. He whispered instead, “Take me home.”

Thomas' request was not answered, met only by silence, so he tried again, thinking he had spoken too softly, “Take me home, Alastair.”

When the other remained silent again, Thomas opened his eye to see his future husband cry silently next to him. He shook his head, not realizing what he was waiting for to take them both away from that place, away from danger and certain death.

Alastair reached out his hand to Thomas' good cheek, and when he should have felt the light touch of the boy's fingers, nothing came. Alastair bowed his head, “You are alone, Thomas.”

Thomas wrinkled his forehead, confused, and the movement caused a twinge of pain in his head, “I don't understand.”

“You're alone.” Alastair murmured, his face almost cleansed. Thomas blinked and Alastair was standing, dressed in a suit and a flower sticking out of his jacket pocket, a red flower. That was the clothing he would have been wearing at their wedding. “You're alone,” Alastair repeated, “I'm not here.”

Thomas blinked again and then he was really alone.

tsc tag list

@queenofthemoon22 @tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx @abigneignenn @imherongraystairstrash @rednailpolishqueen @herondamnn @parababitch-herondale @silent-nerd

[julemmaes]

You marry me, Alas

"Stop eating all my popcorn, they're for the tree" AU

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs Fluff Christmas Holiday AU

Okay I kept on writing because apparently it is fun, and I did a little something for my boo @tyherondaletrash who deserves the world and all the love we can give her. And tomorrow is Monday, so it’ll be a shitty shitty day for her (not for me, schools are closed;)) and I hope I can improve her mood a little.

Just gonna tell you that there’s a little angst, a lot of fluff and SHIT TON of sex references, but nothing too serious, hope you’ll enjoy it

Word count: 2,364

Thomas poured the last pan of popcorn into the biggest bowl and picked up the few who had fallen on the island before eating them. He left everything in the kitchen as he went up the stairs of their new house to go get a needle and thread.

Alastair would never agree to do such a thing, he would probably complain all the time about the grease on his hands or the fact that “food should be eaten, not used to make stupid necklaces”, but Tom really wanted to get him into the Christmas spirit. Because that would be the first Christmas they spent with their families and especially the first Christmas since Alastair and Cordelia’s father got out of rehab.

Thomas had found out from James. One afternoon, when only the two of them had gone out to make gifts to the others, out of nowhere he had asked how Alastair was taking it. Thomas had looked at him frowning, because he didn’t understand what he was talking about, and when James told him that their father was going back to London after all those months out of town, the sky fell down on him. Not because he was upset.

He had mostly panicked and text-bombing his boyfriend, who, busy with a business meeting, had not replied right away. And then Thomas had called him. Fifteen times. And when Alastair came out of the meeting he thought the other was dead. He had called back immediately and was slightly angry when Thomas told him to go home because they needed to talk. He tried to imply that he knew about Elias, but Alastair seemed too focused on the fact that he called him so many times, and so he had to be the one with the issue that needed resolving.

Tom sighed, remembering how he had had to pull every word out of Alas' lips, which eventually gave away and began to cry. He had rarely seen his boyfriend cry, but he had never felt so much hatred and anger in his sobs. It was difficult to feel affection for his beloved’s father at that time. A father who had taken away his childhood and forced him to protect his sister’s.

He found the needle in the drawer of his bedside table and took one of the little balls of white thread that Alastair kept in his drawer (for when the buttons fell from his shirts), and went down to the first floor again. He returned to the kitchen, and did not immediately notice that his boyfriend was sitting on the counter swinging his feet and eating his popcorn… his popcorn!

“Hey! I was eating those!”Alastair shouted when Thomas tore the bowl from his hands.

“Make them yourself, if you are hungry! These go on the tree. And you will help me.” he said, sulking like a child, holding the popcorn in his chest. Alastair shook his head sighing and, making a small leap to get off the island, gave his assent.

They went into the living room and sat on the carpet next to the tree. A tree that had been bought almost a week earlier and still didn’t have a single ball on it. This was due to the fact that since Alastair’s holidays had started, there hadn’t been a minute when the two of them hadn’t rolled around in bed.

Sometimes it was annoying to stay apart all day and then be too tired to do any other activity but sleeping, so as soon as the chance to spend some time together for their own business had presented itself, they had not been able to resist and had locked themselves in the house for a week, receiving complaints from Lucie and Christopher, who wanted to go out with them, but they both had repeatedly refused to make the famous double dates she loved so much and shut the door in front of a very confused Kit.

“So? How do we do these things?” asked Alastair by taking a popcorn and throwing it in his mouth.

“Certainly not like that.” muttered Thomas, taking two meters of thread for him and two for the other boy and starting to stick it in his needle, “First put the thread in the needle and then stab the popcorn, like this.” He showed it to him and continued undisturbed until a sound of frustration escaped Alastair’s control and Tom was forced to interrupt his work. Looking up, Thomas never thought he’d find himself in front of an Alastair red of rage with a twisted thread around his fingers, desperately trying not to prick himself again.

“How the fuck do you put something so big inside something so small?! It’s impossible.” Alastair’s hands were shaking from how focused he was, and that didn’t help with his task.

Thomas' eyebrows shot up and, refraining from laughing, he placed his necklace on the ground, gently taking his boyfriend’s hands into his own, stopping that tremendous trembling, “I don’t think you should make another joke like that, or I’ll be forced to leave this tree naked another day to show you how it’s done,” he whispered to him with a wink. Thomas heard him mutter something about being naked and that as far as he was concerned that tree could also burn in the fireplace. “Here.” passed the needle with the already threaded thread, “you have to hold it from here otherwise it slips out.” Alastair thanked him before he took a handful of popcorn and took it to his mouth. Thomas refrained from snorting and began his work once more. He still felt that the other was confabulating and a quick glance made him realize that he would never accomplish anything.

Not even five minutes passed before Alastair stood up and started yelling at the popcorn, which kept breaking and falling off. He stomped his feet on the ground like a child and at that point Thomas could not hold back any longer, bursting into a loud laugh, with his head pulled back.

Alastair took that laugh as an invitation to do something else and on his way to their room, took all the presents he hadn’t wrapped yet, wrapping paper and tape, before he sat down next to his boyfriend. He stared at the books he had bought for Cordelia for a whole minute before taking a deep breath and really started working.

Meanwhile Thomas seemed to have finished his first necklace and was starting the one he had abandoned. Alastair took the wrapping paper and began to rip it in half, so that he had enough for every book, but of course something had to go wrong and a sharp pain took over his finger. He looked at his hand and two drops of blood came out of his thumb, “For fuck’s sake.”

Thomas, intrigued by his boyfriend’s swearing, turned to him, giggling, “I agree. Today is not your day.” he told him, nibbling a popcorn, “Do you want me to go get you a Band-Aid? At least you won’t stain the books.” he proposed with a shy smile.

Alastair turned to him, to that boy he loved so much that sometimes he wondered how it was possible that everything was real. That Thomas was really his. That he could finally be happy, too, if he had someone like Tom by his side.

“Don’t worry, I can go by myself.” he bent down on the other, brushing his lips with his own, but the other took him by the neck of the shirt pulling him down towards him and the kiss became more intense. Alastair lost his balance, ending up on Thomas, that by now was lying on his back, his hands going up under the other’s shirt.

They split just to catch their breath, and when Alastair finally broke off, Thomas gave a grunt of discomfort at the lack of contact, “We said no sex today. And no sex will be.”

“That was a stupid fucking rule, then.” Thomas said, raising his hips against Alastair’s, making him feel how even that little contact between them made him feel. Alastair closed his eyes leaning his forehead against that of the other, laying a last little kiss on his lips. He stood up, resting on his arms and then helped Thomas, lending him a hand.

“Are you sure you want to go to the bathroom? Isn’t it that with your bad luck, you come in and the patches are gone?” Thomas joked on the way to the kitchen to get a drink. Alastair saw from the croner of his eye that he was adjusting his trouser and could not stop his mind when he thought “Stupid rule, indeed”, but they had to finish decorating the house, tomorrow would be Christmas Eve and all their friends and families would come here. Explaining to his mother that you hadn’t decorated anything because you were too busy fucking didn’t seem like a tempting thing to do.

“No you’re actually right. Could you take it fom me?” He took his finger between his lips and sucked it. At least there was no more blood.

“That shitty rule is ruining my day. At this point we would have finished everything.” he was looking at him like a lioness looks at a gazelle after a week of starving. Yet, that lioness had eaten, even too many times, wondered Alastair. He scoffed, knowing full well that they wouldn’t have done anything if it wasn’t for that one rule.

“Stop it, Lightwood, and hurry up so we can finish early and after we can do what we want.” He smiled greedily, swooped over the couch with an athletic jump and landed just two inches from him. He put the Band-Aid on him, insisting that he needed to touch him somehow, and for Alastair to take the piss out of him, those tiny displays of affection swollen his heart.

They both went back to doing what they had to do, until Alastair finished wrapping and then put all the balls there were to be put on the tree, and all the streamers. He also began to decorate the kitchen and the entrance, putting sprigs of mistletoe here and there at Thomas' request. If he had to be completely honest, that afternoon wasn’t as bad as he initially thought.

He was getting up on the chair to put the last twig on the front door, when a Christmas tune blew up the house at full volume, scaring him and making him almost fall, “Oh hell, no,” he complained softly, but he would never ask Thomas to turn it off. For some strange reason, Christmas made him ten times happier, kinder. Perhaps it was because his past Christmas had been spent with a loving family, in houses full of gratitude and happiness, while Alastair’s had all been spent hiding his father’s eggnog where he could not find it and to buy a gift to his sister at the last minute, because no one ever remembered to drive him to the mall.

He came down from the chair in silence and took it back to the counter, where he leaned with both elbows before burying his face in his hands. Stop it, he said to himself, or you will ruin Christmas to everyone, including Thomas. He took a trembling breath, trying to calm down. His father was fine. Cordelia had told him. Layla, his sweet little Layla, who had gone to see Elias alone because he had refused to see him. Layla, who had been forced to meet an alcoholic father alone after knowing a complete different person for a very long time.

He looked out the window, where the snow was starting to come down slowly. He did not notice the volume of the music being lowered, or Thomas looking at him from the doorframe, again, but this time with a hard, thoughtful look. He did not even notice him when the first sob came out of his lips and he cursed under his breath so as not to be heard.

He only noticed Thomas when he approached him with two big strides, and circled his shoulders with his arms, bringing him close to himself, cradling him as he had done every time. Alastair turned to him, hiding his face in his chest, as a liberating cry made its way into him.

Thomas lifted him from the ground and, holding him as tight as he could, went to the couch, where he sat whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

They were like this for hours, one next to the other. The forgotten popcorn necklaces on the floor next to the tree and the half-packed gifts to keep them company.

Alastair looked up at Thomas only when he was sure he was no longer crying and what he saw on the other’s face stopped his breath. There were traces of tears on Thomas' cheeks as well. Alastair sat up straight, still on his boyfriend’s lap, holding both hands to his face, “Tom,” he whispered passing a finger on his cheekbone. Thomas took his hand in his, taking it to his mouth and leaving a tender kiss on his palm, before resting it on his chest, on his heart.

Thomas looked him in the eye and as every time he looked at him his love grew and grew so much that for a second he was afraid he would explode, he was sure that he would die if he did nothing to let Alastair know his feelings. How much he loved him and how much this love grew every day. For everything that he meant to him and for everything he stood for.

Thomas had a completely crazy idea in mind, but he was sure, sure of that love. Sure that the only voice that mattered in the midst of the thousand that he heard every day was the voice of the man who stood on his lap at that moment. And he was not afraid when he opened his mouth and moved to speak, did not feel fear, only an indescribable emotion, while…

“Marry me.”

“You marry me, Alas.”

[julemmaes]

C’mon, lick it // part two

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs modern au

I DID IT, @tyherondaletrash FUCK YOU BITCH THIS IS FOR YOU CAUSE YOU DIDN’T LET ME LIVE THROUGH IT AND YOU’RE GONNA CRY THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR EYES

Everyone else, enjoy it!:)

Word count: 6,146

“I can’t believe those two are becoming old dudes.” Matthew sighed taped to Christopher’s side. They were in front of the entrance of James and Cordelia’s building ready to go and buy the noodles that the blond craved so much, but they had been there for more than five minutes and Thomas was beginning to suspect that soon they would all be going home.

“Leave them alone Math, they are not old.” Christopher replied yawning.

Thomas chuckled when he saw Matthew’s cautionary look, but he felt his eyelids heavy as well and in three seconds his mouth also opened wide and made a noisy sound.

“They just have a job that starts very early, unlike ours.” Lucie defended her brother and her best friend by trying to make it clear to Matthew that ordinary people with office jobs had to wake up at six, unlike people who worked in bars, like her and Math, who could go to sleep at the time the others were getting ready .

“About jobs that start very early.” Thomas intervened by smiling displeased, putting an arm around Alastair’s shoulders, who was rubbing his hands trying to warm up a bit. He found it ridiculous how his boyfriend so stubbornly refused to buy a pair of gloves.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” Matthew snorted laughing, “And while I have not yet fully accepted your dyed blond there…” he continued nodding to Alastair with his chin, ‘It was just a phase.’ defended the guy, interrupting Math “…I would not want to stay alone with Mr. In Love and Miss. I Still Sleep With My Puppet. I could use real men.”

“The hell Math! It was supposed to be a secret!” Lucie whined, dodging Christopher who tried to stop her and hitting the boy on the shoulder. He snorted again, pushing her back to her place place. The Lightwood between them was holding back a laugh at the ease with which his friend had moved his cousin.

“Shut up, Lulu, everyone knows you’re still a child.” Matthew smirked, calling her with the nickname he knew only her father could use, looking in front of him and waiting for her to answer in kind.

“I’m sorry, but I also have to go in an hour early tomorrow and your mother might kill me if I’m late.” Alastair apologized by speaking quickly so that the bickering didn’t drag on, trying to look really sorry and not show how excited he was to finally go home.

“I’m too tired for a noodles party. Forgive me.” Thomas tried to save his boyfriend by directing Math’s anger toward him, and so it was, because it was as if Alastair hadn’t even spoken when Matthew turned to Thomas and was as disgusted as he had been before when he looked at James said, “No fuck you, I’ll never forgive you, asshole.”

“God, what am I gonna do now?” Thomas cried out in a desperate tone, Lucie slightly jumped at the sound, smiling broadly, “I will never recover from this terrible insult.” Lucie burst into laughter and when Thomas took Alastair’s hand in his starting to walk back to their apartment, Kit greeted them.

“Night night.” Lucie murmured with a half-smile on her lips, as if the fact that they were leaving weighted more on her than Matthew. Well this is really weird, thought Thomas looking at her, before turning and shouting over his shoulder, “Good night, everybody.” Alastair pushed him, as if to remind him what time it was (and that they had already screamed enough) and waved his hand in the direction of the trio, saying with a lower tone of several octaves “Night.”

“I hope you choke in your sleep, traitors.” Matthew cried as he stepped towards them, but staring at the window of James’ apartment. Then he looked at his wrist carelessly, “It’s only three damn, and we’re already so few.” Thomas chuckled interlacing his fingers with Alastair’s.

They walked for a while in silence, as they used to do when they came home after movie night. They lived only ten minutes from their friends’ apartment and driving to cover a so little distance and then not finding any parking was not a thing that tempted either of them.

Thomas was thinking about what he would cook the next day for lunch and was going to ask the other what was better between chicken and a omellette, even though he knew that Alastair would always choose meat over everything.

Alastair gripped his hand tighter, drawing his attention and when he turned around Thomas was grinning from ear to ear, Alastair’s gaze darted away, “Thank you.”

Thomas’ head tilted to the side, “For what?”

“For lying.” he shrugged “I know you don’t work tomorrow.” He kept on looking in front of him, if his cheeks were red only for the cold or even for the embarrassment Thomas couldn’t say. He smiled more widely. Sometimes it was so hard for his boyfriend to say simple things like thank you that he knew that when he did it for such petty things it was only because he was training for when he would really apologize.

“Ah, yes.” Thomas moved a hand in the air, “Of course. And then I’m dead on my feet, too.” he sent another smile his way, hoping to charm him, but Alastair almost seemed to refuse to look at him and Thomas realized that something was wrong because something in his tone seemed completely off when he replied, “Sure.” Alastair face scrunched up.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, curious to understand what was going on in his little head.

“I don’t know. Cordelia seemed distracted tonight.” he answered casually, kicking a bottle that was on the sidewalk, “And Matthew in desperate need of distraction.” he continued by squeezing his eyes when a bus lit up his face.

Thomas was happily surprised, it was not an everyday thing to hear Alastair speaking so friendly of his Matthew. Even when things started to go really well between the two them, Matthew had been hesitant and it had taken a couple of years and a move to convince him that they were made for each other, “Matthew is always in desperate need of distraction.”

“True, but tonight it was notably. Maybe with Christopher in a relationship he feels very lonely.” He hypothesized, finally looking up at Thomas’ face, whose eyebrows shoot up at the sound of his words.

“And since when do you care so much about Math, exactly?” Thomas asked sincerely interested in knowing what had changed in his vision of the blond boy.

“I’m not a heartless being, you know?”

“Still. You’ve never gotten along and it’s strange to see you worried about him.” Thomas said shaking his head still a little unconvinced.

“Oh God, I’m not worried.” Alastair exclaimed like he seemed disgusted just by the idea of it, “I’m just saying that maybe we should do something to distract him.” He said, trying to make it look like it was a normal daily thing he did, plan to cheer up Matthew, failing miserably.

“We?” Thomas asked, trying to get confirmation of what he had just heard, looking like an old man who found out that Santa really exists.

“If you don’t stop being so surprised about this, I’m gonna slap you.” Alastair warned him in a threatening tone as a shiver passed through his body. Thomas left his hand, hugging him, but keeping walking.

“As if you could reach me up here.” Thomas joked with a smirk.

“You’re… you-” the voice came out muffled, hindered by his boyfriend’s jacket, which pressed on his chin. Not that he minded, he was already feeling better than a few minutes before and could feel his fingertips start to regain sensitivity.

“Irresistible? Awesome? Too handsome for this world?” proposed Thomas hopefully, receiving a elbow straight to the ribs.

“Unbelievable.” said Alastair scowling, but still being slightly amused.

If to Alastair the others had seemed to be completely done with life and ready to sleep for eternity, Thomas was the exact opposite. He seemed to be kvelling out of every pore and the way he was jumping around, bouncing him around like a puppet, took a little of his concern away.

“Unbelievably handsome, you mean.”

“No, I meant you’re unbelievably stupid.”

“Ouch.”

Alastair shook his head, grinning, “Either way, if you don’t want to do something all together, you guys could always bring him out. You four could do a thing, like in the old days.” he proposed, shoving him off and putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Shortly after, he felt Thomas’ hand slipping into his own and smiled, holding his fingers hoping to warm up even more.

“A foursome thing you say?” Thomas asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “I didn’t know you were into these kind of things.” Thomas looked at him winking, but the smile died on his lips when he saw the grin on Alastair’s face.

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking shit, I won’t let you sleep with me for a week.”

Thomas scoffed, “You wouldn’t last that long. You’d miss me too much.”

“Two weeks, then.” returned Alastair, not at all frightened at the idea of actually spending two weeks without being able to sleep in Thomas’ arms.

“Wanna bet?” he asked him laughing, probably still thinking he was joking.

“You know I never back down.”

Thomas got serious, pulling his hand out of Alastair’s pocket and, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, offering it to his boyfriend. “Deal?”

“Deal.” said Alastair without blinking, turning to him and shaking his hand.

“What does the winner get?” Thomas asked without letting go.

“Don’t know.”

“How about…” Thomas pretended to think about it, but the grin on his lips implied that he had kept that particular punishment for a special moment. And it had arrived. It wasn’t strange that they were betting with each other, “The loser does the laundry for a whole month?”

“Yes please. I hate doing laundry.” said Alastair, hinting at nothing more than no intention of losing.

“Oh I know, that’s why it’s gonna be so much better when you drag yourself out of our room to come on the couch because you’re gonna miss me too much.”

“Believe it all you want.” Alastair said, “And don’t think you’re the only one sleeping on the couch. We’ll do a day each.” he added. Thomas was quite gigantic, and he would certainly sleep all curled up on the couch, waking up with an absurd stiff neck, but he also knew that he would never let him sleep on the couch for two weeks. Even because Thomas would lose.

“Maybe we should seal it with a kiss.” Thomas leaned down, taking a step towards him so that now they’re faces were just mere centimeters apart. Alastair felt the hairs of his arms standing up and tried to convince himself that it was the cold, like every time they were out and Thomas insisted on touching him.

“You are insufferable.” he smiled, brushing his lips with Thomas’.

“And you’re irresistible.” Oh my god.

“What’s up with all your flirty little comments tonight?” he shoved him by the shoulder, always keeping him close to his body, not wanting to let him go yet. Their hands still clasped together.

“I studied the adjectives dictionary and thought I should share my new knowledge.” Thomas said, lowering the tone of the voice, looking at him as if his life depended on it.

“Stupid.” breathed Alastair, licking his own lips. Thomas’s gaze snapped down at the movement of his tongue and a guttural sound shook in Alastair’s chest, “I, for example, would have used witless.”

“Kiss me.” Thomas ordered him in a sensual voice and Alastair found himself thinking about what his mother would believe if they arrested him for obscene acts in public, if he had stripped him and taken him right there.

When they got home, the warm air that came from inside invaded Alastair to the bones and he closed his eyes beading of that familiar smell that was a mixture between his and Thomas’s.

He was about to take his shoes off when Tom looked out of the kitchen, handing him a black bag that smelled awful. He wrinkled his nose, slightly turning his head away to escape the smell. And here goes the dream, he thought sighing.

“Would you mind taking the garbage out?” he asked him with a hopeful smile, already wearing slippers. “It’s been there for two days and it’s starting to smell so bad that if a bear came into the house, I wouldn’t be so surprised.” he said seriously.

Alastair raised an eyebrow, taking back the keys he had just laid and the dripping sack. He wrinkled his nose again, “There are no bears in London.”

“Whatever.” he heard the other says as he closed the door behind him.

He started humming, thinking about the closing of the case he and Charlotte were working on right now. He’d been working for a little over a year at a law firm in the City, and this was the first major case she’d ever entrusted to him so far.

He went down the last flight of stairs opening the door to the back of the house, but heard a loud noise coming from the main entrance so, after having arranged the bag so that it could not be moved by the wind, he went to check what was happening.

Once again in the fresh air of a sleeping London, he saw a person trying to get up and stopped at the last step, hesitating, trying to see if it could have been someone dangerous or if they only needed help.

The figure before him grunted, swearing immediately afterwards and with a movement too fast for what seemed his physical condition, he stood, staggering.

Alastair was left breathless, and all he saw was red. A red that had tormented him for years and that occasionally appeared in his worst nightmares, “Charles.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Alastair felt himself die a little.

It had been months since he had last said his name and years since they had seen each other.

He knew that he had moved to a small town near Basingstoke, but he had also explicitly asked Matthew not to tell him anything else and that time the boy had just nodded, without saying any jokes as usual.

He was wearing a suit and tie, and to unknown eyes he might have seemed fine, but (god damn him) Alastair knew him, and saw what was under the abnormal amount of alcohol he ingested. He knew that something serious had happened if he was in London. In front of the apartment he shared with Thomas. And yet, even though he knew it was something bad, he didn’t care.

He’d already given him too much, he didn’t even deserve a minute of his time. At the sound of his voice, Charles’ eyes snapped at him and Alastair felt compelled to step back, resenting him being so close. His hands started shaking and he stared at him with his eyes wide open. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t hide the shock of seeing him there.

He was about to go back, inclined not to start a conversation with the boy who stood before him and Charles had such glossy eyes that to Alastair they could only remind him of all the times he had been forced to lock himself in a room with Cordelia, to spare her the sight of an alcoholic father. He nodded his head as a sign of greeting, his lips reduced to a thin line, turning and grabbing the door handle-

“Alastair.”

He closed his eyes and his breath became ragged. He felt his throat burn and he forced himself to wear the mask he had not touched in recent years and that had made him become someone he was not, made him become a monster.

“Alastair, I…” Charles took a step towards him, putting one foot on the first step, and Alastair’s back slammed into the frozen glass of the door when he tried to walk away. Charles halted, clenching his jaw.

Taking a deep breath, and another, then another, Alastair managed to talk, “What are you doing here?”

Charles seemed to relax, but he still came down the stairs, swinging before he grabbed the railing, “I wanted to see you.”

Alastair almost laughed, but he was able to detach himself from the door, carrying both hands in his pocket, closing them into fists, “How do you know where I live?” He asked in a dry tone, looking him in the eye.

“My mother told me.”

“You’re drunk.” Alastair stated, his gaze never leaving Charles’.

“I wanted to see you.” Charles repeated, as if those five words justified everything. As if he hadn’t made Alastair go through hell the whole time they were together and even after, when he tried to undermine his relationship with Thomas.

“It’s been four years.” his expression hardened.

“Rebecca left me.” one hiccup, and then Charles was holding back the vomit. Alastair turned his attention to the buildings around him, trying not to feel pity for the other.

Did she find out about your secret life and that you were lying to her all this time? , he wanted to ask him, but he just swallowed. He heard Charles sighing with relief and hoping he wouldn’t throw up, he turned to him again, “I didn’t know you were with anyone.” he said instead.

“Yes, because you didn’t bother to ask yourself how I was after you broke my heart.”

Alastair made a choked sound. He couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t do anything. You built a life in a house of cards without thinking that the wind could blow too strong.” he told him approaching him enough to smell his cologne. The scent threatened to cloud his brain, bringing up too many memories.

Charles stood still, looking up at him, smirking, “How poetic you’ve become.”

“I’ve always been poetic, but you told me to be quiet because you were afraid someone might hear us.” Alastair raised his chin in defiance, and was satisfied when Charles did not answer him. He stood up straight and in a much less confident voice than he would have liked, he turned and pulled the keys out of his pocket, “Now excuse me, but I really have to go.”

“Sure, you’ve always been good at running away when things get tough.” Charles laughed, laughter devoid of all fun.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whispered looking at the wood and glass in front of him, trying to focus on the brown streaks and not on Charles, “I didn’t run away because things had become difficult. I left you because you didn’t see me.” he took a small break, “You didn’t want to be with me and that… What we had was anything but healthy, Charles.” He ended up holding his fingers around the keys.

“And that-” another hiccup, “Lightwood is good for you, isn’t he? He treats you well. Do you still push him around, like you used to? Do you boss him around?” Charles asked, with a tone that made Alastair realize he knew he had struck a nerve. “That’s why you’re together, right?” something in Alastair’s chest took life and a feeling that had been dormant for years came to the surface. A feeling he chose to ignore completely.

Alastair didn’t even look at him and opened the door, he growled, “Go away. And don’t come back, or I’ll call the police.” When he came into the house for the second time that night, the heat didn’t warm the frost in his bones, and neither did the cheerful tone of his boyfriend when, leaning against the back of the couch, he said, “Finally, I was going to come down and rescue you.” Alastair didn’t answer right away, he was looking for an excuse, whatever was good to justify the fact that he was out for ten minutes.

He couldn’t have started a discussion right now. Not that Thomas would be mad at him, no. He probably would have consoled him, but in that moment he just needed to be alone and think about what Charles had told him. Convince yourself it was bullshit.

Thomas realized that something had changed in his boyfriend’s mood because he asked him, “Hey, everything’s all right?”

Alastair quickly recovered, blinking and starting to undress, “Yes, yes.” he said distractedly. “I’m just tired.” he took off his shoes, entering the kitchen to get a glass of water. His throat was so dry that it was beginning to hurt.

“Are you sure?” he heard Thomas scream in a worried tone from the living room, then that spark in his voice came back, “Are you already considering how bad laundry would be, for a month?”

He drew two glasses before he thought it safe to speak without his throat, now no longer made of sandpaper, being torn. He came out of the kitchen, heading towards their bedroom, “Sure. ‘Night Tom.” Alastair said to him, rubbing his hand on his face.

“Good night, Alas.” he heard him say. A break, then, “I love you!” said loud enough for night bus drivers to hear it.

“I love you too.” he whispered before closing the door behind him.

Thomas kept tossing and turning on the couch. The blanket he had chosen was making his arms itch and he could not find a position where all parts of his body were on the cushions and his neck was not bent in an uncomfortable position. Changing the blanket was not possible because entering their bedroom risking waking Alastair up was not even an option.

In the morning he would have had an important trial and had to be rested. Thomas was going to throw everything on the floor and settle down, there, when the sound of something falling out of the apartment door and a muffled fuck drew his attention.

His eyes moved quickly to the end of the hall, where Alastair slept undisturbed, “What-?” Thomas stood up when he heard another noise and then someone knocking so softly on the door that for a moment he thought he had imagined it.

He walked slowly to the hall, looking for something to defend himself, in case whoever was behind the door tried to harm him. He looked through the peephole and almost sweared.

He only saw the red hair, but it was enough to recognize the figure of Charles Fairchild. He sucked in a breath taking his keys and opened the door glaring once more at the door down the hallway, pushing back every rational thoughts in a box and ready to do everything in his power to prevent Charles to get to Alastair. The blood already boiling in his veins.

As soon as he was outside the apartment, he regretted opening the door. Charles was obviously drunk.

Thomas clenched his jaw, trying to control his tongue, who threatened to spit insults at him every second he spent staring at the brother of one of his best friends.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in an icy tone.

Charles chuckled, closing his eyes with an almost relaxed expression, “Funny.” Thomas raised an eyebrow, “What?” he asked. “No, I don’t care.” he told him by raising a hand in front of him, blocking anything else he had to say.

He closed his hands in fists, carrying his arms behind his back, insisting not to hit him unless absolutely necessary. His eyes widened, shocked by his own thoughts, opening his hands and crossing his arms on the chest.

The others would have been ashamed of him, because he was not violent, he was the gentle one, he repeated himself in the head like a mantra.

Yet kindness was the last thing he could summon as he watched Charles stare at him with a half-open eye and smelled like beer. “You have to leave before Alastair hears you.” he ordered without so many words. Saying his boyfriend’s name in front of him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“And why would I do that?” Charles asked, ridiculously, staggering forward.

One thought brushed Thomas’ mind, “Does Matthew know what state you’re in?”

“Matthew.” disgust transformed Charles’ face, “He doesn’t even know I’m back.”

Thomas almost flinched away. He could have never spoken of his brothers and sisters with so much hatred in his voice and he knew that the relationship between Charles and Matthew was anything but fraternal, but he did not think that the oldest despised Matthew so much. That’s why he couldn’t control himself when he said to him with a strong tone, almost spitting, “Go away.”

Charles looked him in the eye and with the more serious expression than he had until then, said, “Make me.”

Thomas grabbed him by the shoulder and pulling him he behind began to descend the stairs quickly. Charles was having a hard time keeping up with him, and a couple of times he went and slammed into his back, but Thomas didn’t feel anything, and he didn’t move a half inch. He heard Charles swearing again and thought that he had never heard him say a dirty word until that night, “Okay, okay, calm down. I’m leaving.” Charles said yanking his jacket out of Thomas’ grasp.

“If I see you even a hundred meters from this house, I swear to God, I won’t be so forgiving, and the next place you’ll find yourself is prison.” he warned him without a glance, as he dropped him to the ground just outside the building.

“You’ve become such an asshole Lightwood, you were so kind before.” Charles bit and stood up and rubbed his wrists, “I remember you playing in our garden with Matthew and Christopher.” he chuckled for the thousandth time, “And after a few years, James came along. How cute you were.” he said with a sincerely happy smile.

“I’m serious, either you leave in five minutes, or I call the police.” he warned him one last time.

“Funny.” Charles repeated.

A vein popped out in Thomas’s neck while he yelled, closing the distance between the two of them, “What?!” He asked, “What by God’s grace do you find so amusing in all of this?”

“You spend so much time following his orders, you’ve become just like him.” hissed Charles, a chill ran down Thomas’ spine.

Everything stopped, “What are you talking about?”

Charles puffed, like he was bored with that conversation, like whatever he was talking about, the whole world knew, “Alastair.”

Thomas stood motionless, “I still don’t understand.”

He was ready to hear some bullshit, Charles wasn’t in a position to have such a serious conversation, and he couldn’t think clearly. For that it took a while when the other resumed speaking, it took a few seconds to really understand what he had just said, “I know him. He doesn’t really love you.” he hiccuped and stopped, “That’s always been the case between you two. You going after him like a lost puppy and he putting up with you because having someone around him is convenient.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thomas draw in a slow and steady breath, shaking his head.

“Oh my God, you’re starting to scare me.” Charles let out a disbelieved laugh.

Thomas couldn’t hold it anymore, “Go away.”

Charles raised his hands as a sign of surrender and began to walk backwards, looking much more sober than he really was. He smiled, “You should be careful. You could get burned.” Thomas didn’t answer.

And he didn’t answer him when Charles turned around and walked towards High Holborn and said, “Goodbye, Thomas.”

When he opened the door for the second time that night he sighed, hoping that Charles would not come back to annoy them because he didn’t think he could handle a mental blow like the one he just suffered.

They had overcome that problem years before, and Alastair absolutely didn’t need certain doubts to resurface, so he let a smile open on his lips when he heard his boyfriend calling him from the room in an alarming tone, “Tom?” sleep laced around his words, “Thomas, is that you?”

He crossed the apartment, opening the door slightly, leaning against the door frame. He forced the corners of his mouth to turn up, “Yes Alas, don’t worry.” he said, leaning his head against the wall, “I just heard a noise and went out to check that everything was okay.” he closed his eyes, tired from everything that had just happened.

“And was everything alright?” Alastair asked, raising on his elbows. His hair was all messed up and a particular tuft was pulled up, he kinda looked like a rooster. Thomas looked at him and chuckled, nodding, “Yes, nothing to worry about. It was just Petunia.” he murmured referring to the one-legged squirrel who always managed to sneak into the stairwell of their building.

They looked at each other for a while in silence. Thomas was deciding whether or not to tell him, maybe he should let it go. Their lives were going great now, they didn’t need to ruin their night because of this. He would have told him about it another day.

Alastair’s eyes narrowed, questioning, “Do you need anything?”

Suddenly, Thomas couldn’t control what came out of his mouth, and before he knew it, he was moving toward the bed, “It wasn’t petunia.” He sat down, never looking away from Alastair, whose eyes were focused on Thomas’s hand, who was holding the blanket between his fingers, “It was Charles.”

Thomas waited for Alastair to realize what he had just said. It gave him time to decide whether or not to talk about it, but the only thing he said was, “You just lost the bet.”

Thomas’s chest tightened in a press, his eyes threatening to water, “Alas.” his hand lingered between them, resting at the end on Alastair’s arm, who slowly escaped his touch, as if not to offend Thomas, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he whispered finally, his eyes welled up, mirroring Thomas’.

“You met him when you came down to take the garbage down.” Thomas understood with horror, holding his breath. Alastair’s body fell all the way back on the bed, and he brought an arm to cover his face, but Thomas heard it anyway when he said, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he took a trembling breath, “Please.”

“Alright.” Thomas laid down next to him, taking him in his arms, while Alastair set himself up so that his back was crushed against the other’s chest.

“I love you.” Thomas said in his ear, putting his cheek on his shoulder, “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” answered Alastair, staring at the void before him, “I love you too.” he said before closing his eyes.

***

“I don’t think you should go to work in your condition.”

“And what condition would I be in exactly, Thomas?” telled Alastair, anger flashing in his eyes.

That morning they woke up and very quietly did what they did every other morning. Alastair had gone to take a shower while Thomas was making breakfast, both were so thoughtless that they looked like two walking dead men. This was at least until Thomas had pointed out that he was not well at all and that he could not face hours of trial, even risking compromising the case.

“You’re obviously in shock from meeting Charles and going to court with your ex’s mother doesn’t seem like the best way to deal with it.” Thomas answered him by getting up from the stool and approaching Alastair, who in the meantime was tying his tie in front of the mirror they had arranged at the entrance.

“And let’s hear it, what would be the best way to do it, hmm? Sit on the couch in pajamas all day feeling sorry for myself?” he made a sound of exasperation, bending his tie and clenching his fist, trying to calm down. Thomas went next to him, taking the garment from his hand and placing it back behind his neck, smiling amused, with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not working today, and you know I would stay here with you. We could talk about it.” he told him, focusing on the knot instead of him, knowing full well how much he hated being looked at during these conversations.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” grunted Alastair, minimizing the matter at hand as usual.

“Yes, there is.” Thomas answered, walking away to see the final result. Alastair bit out a thank you.

“No, there isn’t.” huffed Alastair, “It just happened that Charles came back to see how my life was going and to make sure you and I were still together. This is what happened.”

“We need to talk about it because if he told you half the things he said to me, that means you’re gonna let the hate eat you up until it’s too much and you’re gonna convince yourself that what he said is true and you’re gonna walk away from me. And I’m not gonna let that happen,” Thomas said.

Alastair, who was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water, stopped, laying it all in the sink and drew all his attention to his boyfriend, “What did he tell you?”

Thomas, seeing that he had finally gained ground with that phrase, did not miss the opportunity, “Will you call to get off work today?”

“What did he tell you, Thomas?”

“Will you call?”

“Yes, fuck, yes. I will call.” he answered exasperated, leaning on the table with both hands, staring out the window. “What did he talk about?”

“He thrust high school times in my face.” he saw Alastair lean even more, “He told me that I’m your dog and that you only play along because you need company, in a nutshell.”

“You know it’s all bullshit right?” when Alastair spoke his voice was pained, desperate.

“Do you?” Thomas asked again, “Because I know you, Alas. And I know you know I love you, but I also know that you’re probably wondering how it’s possible after everything you’ve done.”

“I love you too.” rushed to say Alastair completely forgetting what else his boyfriend had said, as if he were afraid that if he didn’t say it, Thomas would leave.

“I know.” Thomas approached him, putting his hand on his forearm, making Alastair turn to him, “I know, and everything that happened at school doesn’t matter. We’ve already had that argument. We’ve already solved everything.” he said with a hopeful look. But he saw in Alastair’s eyes how deep Charles’ words were already planted.

“Yes I know,” Alastair said despite everything, “All that crap about the child with a sad childhood trying to cope with it by taking it out on others. I do remember that one.”

“It’s not crap. It’s the truth.” he said to him as a reprimand, holding his arm slightly, “I chose to be with you. And I choose it every day because every day you give me a chance to see what a great person you are and how much you’re actually worth it. The others may not see you as you really are, but I do.” He touched his cheek, smiling.

Alastair looked at him for a few seconds, and then closed his eyes kissing him. Thomas was right, they had already addressed the subject too many times to return to it now.

“Now why don’t you call Charlotte and tell her you’re not going to work so we can get in bed and do nothing all day?” Thomas reminded him when they broke off, and he was still crushed against him.

“You are insufferable.”

“I made you coffee.” Thomas walked away from Alastair, approaching the stove, “Here.” said turning a teaspoon of sugar in the coffee. He offered him the dripping teaspoon, because he knew how much it bothered Alastair to waste even a drop of that gift of the gods, as he called it, “C’mon, lick it.” Thomas whined when Alastair stood still before him eyeing him with a look of pure love.

Alastair’s smile turned into something else, while with one hand he took the cup and the spoon from Thomas’s hands and with a sensual tone said, “I thought I’d lick something else actually.”

Thomas yelped when Alastair picked him up from the ground, with a bit of difficulty, and brought him into the room laughing. He threw him on the bed before jumping on his boyfriend’s body.

Yeah, fuck Charles.

taglist (if you want to be added just dm me and consider it done, same goes for the ones who want to be deleted)

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @cordelia-carstairs-owns-me @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea

[julemmaes]

Could you do "does this help" for thomastair please? Your writtings amazing, if not thats totally cool!

You can go home now

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs war au

“Does this help?”

This is actually the second part of something I wrote back in July, here is the first part, it is not necessary to read the first part and I’m sorry if this is sad as fuck, with a not so nice ending, but I hope you enojy it:)

Word count: 1,537

When Thomas woke up, he didn't immediately realize where he was. He heard the screams of his comrades, of the soldiers surrounding him. They were not just cries of pain, they were cries of despair. Screams of people who knew they had nothing left. That they had lost every shred of humanity they had when they were born.

They had captured him. It had to be that way.

He tried to open his eyes, unsuccessfully, and panic almost entirely assailed him when he heard someone put his hand on his arm. He opened his mouth to scream, but found he could not make a sound. His throat closed again, blocking his breath, but the person next to him put something on his face, more precisely on his mouth, and the excruciating pain that ran through his veins almost made him faint. He took a breath of air and the oxygen from what must have been a mask entered his lungs.

His face, he suddenly remembered, had been completely burned.

"Thomas?

The boy stopped thinking. His breathing was still irregular but facilitated by the use of the oxygen mask.

"Thomas, please tell me it's you."

If even Alastair couldn't recognize him, he must have been in more than critical condition.

He tried to move his head, to open his eyes again, but the pain was too much and a sob broke out of Thomas' throat. He felt that Alastair grabbed his right hand, the one that had not been hit by the acid bomb and squeezed it. Thomas closed his fingers around his fiancé's and sighed. He felt the other one's hand shake and he just wanted to look at him once. Just once before he passed out from the pain. He felt it in his bones. He wouldn't stay awake for much longer.

"You are alive." Alastair whispered, "You are alive."

Thomas squeezed his hand harder and sobbed.

"I know, my love. I know." Now the other one seemed to be crying too. Someone else approached where Thomas was lying and settled down next to Alastair.

"Here with me is Cordelia." He cleared his voice before continuing to speak, " She was the one who found you. She found all of you."

Thomas inspired abruptly. She had seen Matthew, Christopher... James.

"Yes Tom, I've seen them," replied the girl, having sensed the path of his thoughts. The hoarse and tired voice of those like him who were fighting in the front line. "I couldn't bring them back. I arrived when they started with the fourth bombardment. I saw you fall from the edge of the woods, I saw you crawling before you were hit," she said in a trembling voice.

Alastair resumed after a few seconds of silence, Cordelia probably unable to continue her talk, "She was with Charles and Anna when they found you, but the other two were too badly injured and it was impossible to bring them all back." Another pause, much heavier than the others. Thomas wanted to scream. "We lost Lucie too."

He didn't give himself permission to assimilate those words, to think about what it would mean to go back to Will and Tessa and have to tell them that none of their children would come home. With every strength left in his body, he brought his right hand to his head, touching his eye that he knew was healthy, intact and unharmed. Alastair's hand followed his, helping him support the weight of his arm. He touched his eyelid, trying to open his eye forcibly and when one of the two Carstairs siblings realized what he was trying to do, his hand was lowered.

"Wait. I'm going to find something to wipe your face, don't try to open your eye, okay?"

Thomas wanted to nod, but he couldn't. He heard Cordelia walk away and ask someone for a wet rag.

Alastair handed him a hand on his cheek and then darkness struck him.

When he woke up the second time, the pain had not diminished and the screams of his companions seemed more numerous. This time he realized that he was in a field hospital.

He had never been there. He had never seen one, but Lucie - their dear little Lucie - had been one of the doctors who worked there.

He tried to move his toes and when he could only move his left foot, panic took over again. When he managed to open his right eye he almost vomited in front of the ones in front of him. He closed it immediately, blinded by the light and all that red.

How could they be alive? How could they still breathe, all those people who had pieces of foreign objects stuck in their chest, in their limbs. How could they have survived such wounds?

Thomas tried not to think that they would probably be temporary wounds. That the real wounds would be mental. Scars so deep that they would never heal completely.

He reopened his eye and saw Alastair sleeping next to him. He let his arm fall out of bed and lightly hit his boyfriend's shoulder. He noticed with no little happiness that Alastair still had his ring on his left hand.

The boy woke up up and jumped up, looking left and right in search of the threat. Thomas sighed what little the wounds allowed him. This would be their life from now on if he survived. Hospital beds and traumatic awakenings.

When Alastair realized that he was relatively safe, he sat down again, taking a fleeting look at Thomas, before putting his hands over his face and resting his head on his mattress.

He looked up at Thomas and, in a dragging voice, asked, "How are you feeling?

If Thomas could have laughed he would have done so. How was he feeling? He had no mobility in his right leg and the left side of his body was so burned that the pain in some places was not even there. Every nerve end burned and fused with the skin.

"Stupid question, sorry."

Thomas opened his mouth and realized he could only do it partially. Shit.

Alastair grimaced and his eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry Tom."

Thomas looked at him and felt empty. All those feelings, those famous butterflies in his stomach... they had always been there, and yet now it was as if they were dead and rotting inside him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alastair get up and lean out behind the bed, when he sat down again he had a glass in his hand.

Water.

God.

How long has it been since he had drunk.

He must have moved unintentionally because Alastair laughed, before putting his hand on his right shoulder and squeezing it slightly, "Calm down," he said to him in a peremptory tone, "Now I'm going to lift the top of the bed slowly, so that you can sit down, if you feel pain, squeeze my hand." he continued, proceeding with the framing of his fingers to Thomas'. He gave Alastair two quick squeezes to make him understand that he had understood.

The latter placed the glass back on the bedside table and began to lift the back of the bed.

As soon as he reached a certain position the skin on Thomas's left side began to pull so much that the boy was forced to lift his hips out of the bed, which caused a pain in his right thigh so strong that he saw everything black for ten seconds. When he returned among the living, Alastair looked at him apologetically with tears in his eyes. The bed had returned to a height where the discomfort was bearable.

Cordelia arrived with something in her hand and when she lifted the object Thomas almost laughed. Leave it to her to find a straw on the battlefield. "Does this help?" Alastair thanked her and then sat down again, placing the glass so that it was close to Thomas' mouth.

The first sip was a blessing.

It's been days since he drank such clean water. Maybe weeks.

He was certain that he had survived thanks to the IV he had now attached to his body, but before arriving here, at the hospital, he and his companions had gone on to drink from the puddles they found on the path.

The weeks went by slowly and Thomas did not speak. He became feverish after the first transfer and the day before his return to his motherland his condition became so critical that he could no longer leave. The wounds had become infected and by now the infection had reached his heart. Anna, Charles and Cordelia had said they would stay with Alastair, but he had begged them to go home, to stay with their families. They were all mourning, they needed to be with their parents.

Thomas Lightwood died a few days later, lulled by the arms of what was to become his husband only three weeks later, his last words to Thomas being “You can go home now.”

Finally at peace with himself, he reached his friends and his cousins, happy to be able to rest for eternity.

tsc taglist

@queenofthemoon22 @tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx @abigneignenn @imherongraystairstrash @rednailpolishqueen @herondamnn @parababitch-herondale @silent-nerd @heronblackstairs @starryherondales @queenofnorta

[julemmaes]

I feel like writing another Thomastair os, obviously very very very angsty, but I don’t know if I wanna set it in the shadowhunters world or maybe writing an au like I did for this one.

And since I’m a slut for angst and I finally gathered the courage to write them myself I’m gonna make Alastair hurt so bad you’re gonna feel it in your veins:))

[suchalovelydisaster]

s2g if Thomas and Alastair don’t reconcile in the next book i might just cry