#anti charlestair

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

!!!PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THE TAGS!!!

Title from no body, no crime by Taylor Swift

Angstmas Days of Summer Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Think He Did It But I Just Can’t Prove It

It had been two years now, since the day Thomas had died. He was murdered, if you asked Alastair, but everyone, including law enforcement, said it had been an accident.

An accident my arse. Alastair thought to himself as he studied his “murder board”-as Cordelia called it-for what had to be the thousandth time. Most people would have given up by now, with two years having passed and no evidence to the contrary that the death had been anything but accidental.

But not Alastair Carstairs. He would never give up. Not until justice had been served.

And if he had to serve justice for Thomas himself, then so be it.

He’d done so much on his anyway, how could this be any different?

Two years ago, the love of his life had been killed, his waterlogged body found in the Thames. An accidental drowning. The toxicology report said he’d been drinking heavily that night, so heavily that he must have fallen off of the bridge and into the river. A complete accident.

It was an answer that everyone else believed and accepted. Thomas’s friends, his family, everybody. Everyone but Alastair. He knew it wasn’t an accident, it had been murder. He even knew who had done it.

Charles Fairchild. His ex-boyfriend.

He certainly had the motive and the means to kill Thomas, to even make it look like an accident.

He was a jealous man, a possessive man. He hadn’t liked the fact that Alastair had moved on and he had made sure everyone around him had known that fact.

Everyone knew how much Charles hated Thomas, yet they called him paranoid when he even suggested the possibility that Charles may have had something to do with Thomas’s death.

Charles may have been a bad boyfriend, Alastair, but he’s not a murderer. Cordelia had assured him, the first time he had brought the idea up to her.

Charles would never hurt Thomas. He’s my brother. Matthew had said, getting angry when Alastair kept trying to push the point.

Alastair, dear, we miss Thomas just as much as you do, but blaming Charles for it isn’t the way to grief him. Thomas’s own parents had said that to him. Alastair couldn’t even give them a response to that, he just simply left with no explanation.

And now he hadn’t talked to any of them for months.

They all acted as if Alastair just couldn’t accept Thomas’s death, like he just couldn’t grieve and his way of coping was to not accept that Thomas’s death was an accident.

But they were wrong. Because Alastair wished more than anything to believe it was an accident. But so much just hadn’t added up. And he couldn’t ignore that.

The toxicology report, for one, Thomas hadn’t been drinking that night. He’d been at home all night and he’d had one beer, but that was earlier in the evening with the rest of the Merry Thieves. He couldn’t have been that drunk from one beer that he’d had hours earlier.

The two of them had even gone to bed early.

Alastair hadn’t known where Thomas had gone when he woke up in the morning to the sound of his doorbell ringing and an officer there to let him know that Thomas’s body had been found in the Thames.

They’d gone to bed at 10:30 P.M. and Thomas’s body was found around 6 A.M. the next morning, he’d been dead at least three hours, putting his time of death around 3 A.M.

That in itself left Alastair with four hours of time where Thomas couldn’t be accounted for.

Charles didn’t even have a solid alibi for that night. He said he’d been at home sleeping, something no one could prove but believed anyway.

And even besides the toxicology report, what had Thomas been doing at the Thames anyway?

The police’s theory had been that Thomas and Alastair must have had a fight that night and Thomas had gone out to go cool off, possibly to go drinking at a bar close to the bridge.

But Alastair knew he and Thomas hadn’t fought that evening. Everything had been calm, they’d been happy, nothing had happened.

So why had he been at the Thames?

And what about Thomas’s phone records? Which had been mysteriously wiped clean. Police said he was probably doing an internet purge, something his friends had backed up.

But that wasn’t even Alastair’s biggest question: what about the stalking?

Thomas had reported some instances of stalking to the police in the months before his death.

His tires were slashed. Four different times.

He was mailed photos of himself with his head cut off.

Threatening text messages, phone calls coming from unknown numbers, it all seemed to add up to a stalker.

He’d taken his claims to the police only for them to be brushed off. And they were brushed off yet again when his body had been found.

Thomas had been sure he knew who is stalker was, the same person Alastair knew Thomas’s killer was.

Charles Fairchild. Thomas had figured it out after the last pictures were mailed to him. They were intimate pictures of himself and Thomas, doing things they wouldn’t want anyone else to see.

There were messages written on the pictures this time, calling them both slurs and derogatory names. Alastair had never seen Thomas as angry as he had been when he saw the picture calling Alastair a slut.

Alastair had recognized the handwriting on the photos, the same handwriting he had spent years staring at.

That was how he had known it was Charles. There was no one who would really go after them, and their relationship, as harshly as Charles would.

No one had been as jealous of their relationship as Charles had.

No one hated Thomas as much as Charles did, whether he was Matthew’s childhood friend or not.

No one wanted to hurt Alastair like Charles did, like he had during their relationship with his words and his bruises.

No one would have targeted Thomas, he didn’t have any enemies, except for Charles.

No one had the motive Charles did.

It all circled back to Charles and no one else could see it, but Alastair could.

He looked to the photo of Charles pinned to his “murder board” and scowled. It was covered in pins and red string, connecting it to all of the other evidence.

“You did this, Charles, and I know it.” he spoke directly to the picture, even though he knew it couldn’t hear him or even respond back.

“Nobody may believe me right now, but one day, I’ll prove it. Just you wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So do you guys think Charles actually did it or is Alastair really grasping at straws here?

Let me know in the comments!!!

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

@tessherongraystairs @petalsofaflower-shutupthomas @wagner-fell @littlx-songbxrd

[laylax13s]

I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!!!

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

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

[lightstairs1902]

SHADOWHUNTERS COUPLES AS TAROT CARDS

CHARLESTAIR

Charles Alastair

Seven of swords represent: manipulation, lies, cheating, abuse, irritation

On this card you can see this man is looking back bc he is trying to get away with something. Swords represent mind so you can interpret it as getting away with gaslighting. As we know he is gaslighting 24/7. He is also manipulating Alastair and just trying to get away with the marriages but also keeping Alastair at the same time.

THIS CARD SCREAMS CHARLES

Eight of swords represent anxiety, being silenced, psychological issues, feeling trapped in situation

You can see that that woman has blindfold on which signifies being blind to reality, but this blindfold can fall if this person wants it. I think feeling trapped in situation is saying a lot. He is kinda silenced by what Charles wants and he is not standing up for himself. Not seeing the reality that this situation is not serving him but also being controlled by Charles thinking that's how it should be.

Reversed 8 of swords is about relief, leaving this situation, standing up and finding solutions

As we saw at the end of CoG

In tsc deck you have them as Jessamine and Nate which suits them as well but in this deck you don't have tlh only 3 or 4 cards in 78 cards deck Alastair is not there

[bemtevis]

your power by billie eilish bringing back my blinding hatred for Charles, yup

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Title from Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift

Prompt - “I'm done. I'm done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

This fic might be a little OOC but trust the process

Angstmas Days of Summer Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You Did Some Bad Things, But I’m The Worst of Them

Thomas was glad to be back at Alastair’s flat after a night of being ignored at the party they had been too. It was the Herondales’ annual Christmas party and Alastair had basically ignored him the whole time, unless Charles was looking of course.

They’d been wallflowers all night, sticking along to the sidelines and barely talking to anyone else. Alastair generally ignoring his presence next to him.

Unless Charles was watching, then Alastair would be all over him. Arms around his waist, kisses on his neck, sweet smiles that he would give anything to see at another time. But it was all a show.

He knew Alastair was using him and for awhile, Thomas didn’t care.

But Thomas was tired of pretending.

He slumped down into a chair in the corner and put his head in his hands.

“Tom? Are you alright?” Alastair asked, coming to crouch next to him, a soft hand rubbing his shoulder.

“No.” he whispered, almost hoping Alastair wouldn’t hear. But he did.

“No? What’s wrong? Did you not have fun at the party?”

Thomas finally looked up, seeing Alastair looking at him with concern in his dark eyes. He knew Alastair cared about him, he just didn’t want him. “No, Alastair, I didn’t have fun being used all night to make your ex jealous.”

“Thomas, what-what are you talking about?” The other man sounded almost incredulous, as if he didn’t know what he’d been doing to Thomas for months now.

“You only started dating me to get back at Charles, am I right or am I wrong?”

The silence in the room was deafening.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m wrong.”

“I can’t.”

“Because I’m not, right?”

It was silent yet again, Alastair trying to look anywhere but Thomas but Thomas wouldn’t let him do that, he couldn’t hide away, not yet.

He gripped Alastair’s chin in his hand and forced him to look up at him. “I need you to look at me when I say this. Can you do that?” Alastair managed a small nod and Thomas continued. “I'm done. I'm done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

“So you want to break up?” Alastair’s voice sounded small.

“Is it really a breakup if one of us wasn’t really in it?” Thomas smiled, a tight, painful smile. “I really loved you, you know. I was so happy when you finally looked my way. But now, I wish you never had.”

With that, Thomas got up and left, leaving Alastair there on the floor with his thoughts, giving him no time to respond.

It wasn’t until he was halfway to his own flag that he felt his heart begin to break inside of his chest and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

He had really loved him, hadn’t he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m really just proving Kat’s point with these fics at this point, Thomas suffers dead or alive ig

Tagging:

@tessherongraystairs @wagner-fell @petalsofaflower-shutupthomas @littlx-songbxrd @aliandtommy

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

22, chalastair (derogatory) or thomastair (good)

Title from Memories by Conan Gray

Angst Prompt #22 - “I’m not going to cry, it isn’t worth crying.”

TW Manipulation

TW Gaslighting

TW Emotional Abuse

TW Alcohol

TW Implied Grooming

Summer of Angst Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But You Show Up Today, Just To Ruin Things

There was a knock on the door, loud in the silence that surrounded Alastair’s new flat. He’d only just moved in two days earlier, wanting a bit of space from his family.

He knew his mother and Risa were definitely grateful for the space, even if they would never admit it to him out loud, he knew they were secretly happy he’d left. They wanted time for themselves and with his baby brother barely sleeping through the night, it seemed impossible. So they were definitely happy for him to move out.

The knock wasn’t all that shocking, as Thomas had been helping him move in, but he’d just left with a carriage to get some things Alastair had left at Kensington Gardens.

It couldn’t have taken him so little time to do that. Could it?

He sighs as he walks over to the door, expecting to see his lover standing there but was taken aback to see a familiar head of slicked back red hair.

Charles Fairchild. His ex-lover. The man he wished would leave him alone.

“Alastair!” Charles slurred out, his name a little too loud on his lips. He was very drunk, clearly having gone day drinking, that much was obvious.

“Charles.” he answered back, trying to hide his disgust as the intense smell of gin wafted toward him.

Charles had a stupidly goofy smile on his face, a tell-tale sign of his state. He was never this carefree, always tense, always terrified someone would catch him in a vulnerable position. That they would use it against him. 

He would never look like that unless he was so drunk he couldn’t see straight. 

More vulnerable than he could ever be, not that Alastair could say that aloud to him.

“What do you want Charles? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, darling.”

The darling made Alastair’s stomach tighten up with knots, bile rising up in his throat but he swallowed it back down, determined not to let Charles see how he effected him still.

He had started to hate that term of endearment even before he had ended their relationship, as Charles had used it to belittle him and manipulate him whenever they were in private.

Oh, but darling, acting like that isn’t very flattering…

Darling, you know that my engagement to Ariadne is only for show…

I only love you, darling…

I never said that, Alastair darling, you’re being delusional…

Darling, darling, darling. The word made him sick to his stomach.

“I’m not your darling anymore, Charles.” His tone was tense, he wanted Charles to leave and leave now. Before Thomas got back.

Charles let out a laugh-a real laugh-Alastair hadn’t heard him do that in years. “Oh come on now, Alastair. Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, pushing Alastair aside roughly so he could stumble his way into the flat. Alastair ended up flat against the door, helpless to do anything but watch him stumble and trip into Alastair’s small kitchen.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bracing himself for the hell he was about to witness in his kitchen.

Why did Charles have to show up today? Today, of all days.

It was supposed to be a good day, where he moved into his new flat with the help of his lover and they made jokes and ate dinner, a good day.

But now it would be forever tainted by whatever stunt Charles was about to pull.

Alastair walked into his kitchen with hesitance, not knowing what kind of situation he would walk into. All of the years of taking care of his drunk father flashed in his mind, but he pushed it back, setting his shoulders and walking in with an air of faux-confidence.

He had to be strong if he had to face his former lover and the memories between them, both good and bad.

Charles was curled in the corner of the kitchen, his body resting against the cabinets. His closed eyes almost made him look almost peaceful. But Alastair knew he was far from that.

He was here for something, but it wasn’t peace.

“What are you really doing here, Charles?”

Charles opened his eyes, one at a time, green eyes looking lazy and soft. Not the fierce green he’d gotten used to over the years.

“I told you already darling, I wanted to see you.”

There was that word again: darling.

Alastair wanted to throw up. “No you don’t. You have another reason, Charles. An ulterior motive, if you will.”

“Why don’t you call me Charlie anymore? I used to love when you called me Charlie.” Charles mused, almost to himself it seemed, his eyes lacking focus.

“Because you aren’t Charlie anymore, the same as I am no longer darling.” he explained, hoping to get a real answer out of him.

Charles chuckled darkly in response, the sound almost eerie to Alastair. “You’re still my darling, even if you claim to be Thomas’s now instead.”

Alastair tensed at the mention of Thomas. Why did he have to mention Thomas? It was none of Charles’s business, him and Thomas. He didn’t have the right to bring him up like this, not anymore, never again.

He hoped that Thomas would hurry up and come back, being alone with Charles was starting to take its toll on him and his thoughts.

“You don’t get to talk about Thomas.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you don’t have the right, not anymore.”

The ginger rolled his eyes. “I think I have every right, my darling.”

“I am not your darling, Charles,” Alastair seethed, his temper starting to flare. “How much clearer do I need to be?”

“You will see, Alastair. When he tires of you, that I was so much better than he ever was. You will see and you will regret having left me.”

The cool fierceness in his green eyes returned, no longer hazy and unfocused. Alastair had once loved that look in his eyes but now he couldn’t fathom why he ever had.

“I will never regret leaving you, Charles. It was the best decision I have ever made.”

“Oh? But you didn’t question that he would leave you, because you know he will. Everyone leaves and you know it in your heart that he will too.”

Alastair bristled. Charles had always had a way to make him feel small, to prey on his insecurities. It was no different now than it was in Paris years ago. “He wouldn’t. You don’t know him.”

“You really think that?” Charles snickered. “He’ll leave once he finds out who you really are, how pathetic you are, how clingy. He’ll leave without a second thought.”

“Shut up, Charles, just shut up. You’re drunk, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alastair was trying desperately to rein in his emotions, to collect his thoughts. He wouldn’t break down in front of Charles, he couldn’t. Never again.

Charles started to laugh, almost manically, as if the sight of Alastair made him downright giddy.

“What?” Alastair nearly yelled. “By the angel, what is so funny about this?”

“You’re about to cry over the truth! You must really think he loves you!” he giggled out, as if that explained everything.

Except it did, it clicked into Alastair’s mind. He had always enjoyed embarrassing him, and laughing at him when cried, that had always been Charles’s favorite poison.

He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction again.

“I’m not going to cry, it isn’t worth crying. You aren’t worth my tears, Charles.”

“As if that will change the fact that no one else could ever love you, darling. I even love you so much that I haven’t left, despite how much you want me to.”

“That isn’t true. You’ve never loved me.”

“But it is true, I have loved you since you were sixteen.”

“Just leave, Charles. Now.”

Charles sighed, stumbling as he got up. “It truly is a shame darling, that you’re wasting your time on that Lightwood. Especially when he’ll leave.”

“Get out.”

“Just remember that I’ve always loved you, Alastair, despite your…flaws.”

With that, Charles stumbled his way out of the flat, probably breaking things along the way as Alastair could hear things crashing down.

But maybe that was just his imagination, the background noise to what was happening around him and in his head.

He slumped down against the cabinets, similar to how Charles had been just moments earlier.

He couldn’t get his words out of his head.

You must really think he loves you…

Charles’s laughter rattled around in his brain over and over again.

The same words repeating with it.

His mind coming up with horrible words and darker trains of thought.

Alastair didn’t truly know what he believed anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Specially dedicated to @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas & @tessherongraystairs

And the witch is back 🙂🙃

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

The way I waited months for that scene only to be proven correct in my assessment that it would just be Alastair visiting Charles

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Friendly reminder that if the Merry Thieves found out about Alastair and Ch*rles, their main concern would be the fact that Alastair dated Matthew’s brother

Not the fact that Ch*rles is five years older than him and that Alastair was underage when they got together

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Me: *googles Thomastair art*

Google: *shows me Ch*rlestair art*

Me:

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Title from Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us

He's in the club doing, I don't know what

TW Swearing

TW Implied Affairs

TW Toxic Relationship

TW Implied Grooming

Tagging @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @life-through-the-eyes-of @wagnerthedragon @writeordie-4 @littlx-songbxrd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And I Got A Boyfriend; He’s Older Than Us

Alastair shouldn’t have come here tonight and he knew it. But he needed time away.

Away from Charles and their relationship. Away from everything.

Charles and him had had a fight, mainly about their relationship status. Charles wouldn’t consider him his boyfriend because he preferred “no labels”.

No labels was just another way of saying he wanted no strings attached or friends with benefits.

So Alastair, being petty in his anger at Charles, called up his best friends to meet him at the local gay club; the Hell Ruelle.

And if he dressed just a little bit more revealing then he normally did, nobody would question it.

Tight leather trousers, a silk shirt that he left unbuttoned to his navel at Kamala’s suggestion, eyeliner to bring out his eyes. His hair undone and left in loose ringlets around his face.

He looked good and he knew it.

Tonight was about him.

And he was spending it moping at the bar of the club, with a glass of wine that he won’t drink.

It’s pathetic, really.

Sitting at a bar by yourself, in really uncomfortable clothes, while your friends drink and dance and enjoy themselves.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a voice and a hand on his shoulder. “You’re Alastair Carstairs, right?”

The voice belonged to an extremely tall and muscular man, who was probably the most beautiful man Alastair had ever seen. He seemed familiar, particularly in the eyes, but Alastair couldn’t place his face.

“Right.”

“I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Thomas Lightwood. We went to junior high together, I was a year below you.”

Oh that’s where he knows him from. Wow.

That’s Thomas Lightwood. Thomas Lightwood that he called pipsqueak.

Well, he certainly isn’t a pipsqueak now, that’s for sure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier. It’s been awhile.” he said, trying very hard not to look Thomas up and down. Something very hard to do with the simple jeans and t-shirt Thomas was wearing.

Thomas flushed a little bit, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “I’ve changed a lot since then, I don’t blame you.”

That you have. Alastair thought to himself. That you have, Thomas.

“So what are you doing now? Are you in university, or working?”

“I’m in the second year of my linguistics major, and I just started a minor in Spanish.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

So he’s smart, attractive, and good with languages. Alastair sighs internally.

The tall man’s face flushed even brighter, the redness crawling down his neck. “Not really. Most people think it’s useless.”

Alastair snorted. “Language isn’t useless. It’s the base of all communication. Whoever told you that is useless.”

“Oh shush. What about you? What have you been up to?”

“I’m currently double-majoring in pre-law and business.”

“That sounds fun.” Thomas’s voice was dripping in sarcasm.

Alastair matched his tone. “Very.”

He hadn’t wanted to do either of those majors, instead he’d wanted to take a gap year to figure it out. But Charles had insisted that he go to college, that he double-major in two very demanding subjects.

It shows your dedication, Alastair. Don’t you want people to be impressed with your dedication? He had said to him and Alastair believed him then.

“Are you planning on law school or business school after you graduate?”

Alastair shrugged his shoulders. “Possibly. I might just do a gap year instead. Visit some places I lived when I was younger. Tehran, Paris, the whole nine yards.”

“I did something like that before I started college. A gap year in Madrid, just like my father did. It was the best year of my life.”

Alastair felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. Oh how he wished he could have done something like that.

“That sounds amazing.”

“It was.”

They spent the next two hours just talking. About what they hope to do with their degrees, what classes they hate the most, anything really, until they get to the topic of Alastair’s internship.

“I heard you were doing an internship with Matthew Fairchild’s brother, Charles, the politician.” Thomas asked. It was an innocent enough question, he didn’t know about Alastair’s history with Charles.

Alastair didn’t think his work with Charles really qualifies as an internship. He was practically just Charles’s unpaid secretary.

Charles’s unpaid secretary that he fucked.

No strings attached, remember? But there truly were so many strings attached.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Do you not like working for Charles?”

Thomas’s hazel eyes had widened considerably, giving him an owlish look. It was quite adorable actually.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that you made a face when I asked that. I assume that you don’t like working with him.”

That was true, Alastair preferred to not work with Charles.

He would also prefer to be Charles’s boyfriend. Not his fuck-buddy.

“My relationship with Charles is…complicated, to say the least.”

“You mean at work?”

“Yes, you could say that. You could probably say outside of work too.” he deadpanned, playing with his untouched glass of wine.

Alastair didn’t know why he was saying this. Especially to Thomas, who he hasn’t seen in almost ten years.

Wow, talk about diarrhea of the mouth.

“So you and Charles are…involved?” Thomas sounded confused, it would be adorable, if they weren’t talking about Charles.

“You could say that.”

Alastair was very tempted to drink the glass of wine now.

“I don’t like to talk about it much.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Alastair did, in fact, drink his wine when he saw a familiar head of red hair walk through the club doors.

Charles Fairchild.

He must really be mad at Alastair for him to come here and risk outing himself and ruining his reputation. His words, not Alastair’s.

Alastair caught his eye and did two things that he would definitely come to regret in the morning.

One, he downed his entire glass of wine in a matter of two seconds.

And two, he kissed Thomas Lightwood.

He made sure Charles saw him make out with Thomas Lightwood.

Make him know what it feels like when someone who apparently “loves” you kisses somebody right in front of you.

Make him feel the pain Alastair feels whenever he sees him with his current fiancée during parties or political rallies.

Thomas’s lips had, at one point, moved down to his neck. Alastair maintained eye contact with Charles the whole time.

“What about Charles?” Thomas asked, pulling his lips away from Alastair’s neck.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎶On the fourth day of Angstmas, Riley gives to you🎶

🎶Four song lyrics🎶

🎶Three angsty fics🎶

🎶Two broken hearts🎶

🎶And one Charles dying🎶

I’m making a new song after tomorrow, it’s hard to come up with lyrics that go together

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Title from Sorry by Halsey (aka the biggest Alastair song of all time)

And Christopher’s first sentence is taken directly from the snippet btw

Totally not based on my theory about the new snippet-

Tagging @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @wagnerthedragon @life-through-the-eyes-of

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And Someone Will Love You (But Someone Isn’t Me)

“Oh, hullo, Alastair, you must be here to see Charles. I think he’s upstairs in his study.” Christopher said when he let Alastair inside the Fairchild house.

“Oh, yes. I am here to see him, how did you know?”

“You’ve been coming here a lot lately, I noticed. And it was rather obvious that you weren’t coming to see me.” Christopher looked a little embarrassed to have said that, his cheeks faintly pink.

Alastair quite liked Christopher, probably more than any of the Merry Thieves, and he’d always been nice to him and vice-versa. He hadn’t known where Christophe would get the idea that Alastair wouldn’t want to see him.

“I do find your lab work interesting, I wanted to ask you about some scientific theory I read about recently. I can’t recall the title of the article at the moment, but I would be happy to bring it to you.”

Christopher brightened at that. “I think we could be good friends, Alastair.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had many of those.”

He could tell Christopher was about to respond when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Kit? Who’s at the door?” The voice belonged to Thomas Lightwood. Tolerably handsome Thomas Lightwood.

Thomas Lightwood that he kissed in the Sanctuary.

Shit.

This couldn’t be worse.

“Oh. Alastair. Hello.” His tone was an obvious attempt at being neutral. But Alastair could see right through him.

“Hello, Mr. Lightwood.”

It was better to be more formal with him now since their…intimacy. Or whatever it was that they had. It certainly wasn’t a relationship and Alastair won’t call it what it wasn’t.

Alastair turned to Christopher with a tense smile. “I’ll talk to you about the article later, I’m sure Charles is expecting me.”

After some hesitation, he turned to Thomas as well. “Good day, Mr. Lightwood. I’m sure that we’ll see each other around.”

“See you around, Mr. Carstairs.”

Alastair couldn’t really hear his words, they were just barely mumbled under his breath.

He was glad that he had turned away before Thomas had spoken, he didn’t think he would’ve been able to live with seeing the heartbreak on Thomas’s face.

He didn’t know his feelings for Thomas Lightwood. He didn’t know if he loved him or how Thomas even really felt.

You were always my secret, Thomas had said to him in the Sanctuary.

Alastair wouldn’t be Thomas’s secret anymore, he couldn’t be. He couldn’t let Thomas lose his friends, his family, over a relationship that might not even last.

He didn’t deserve someone as amazingly sweet as Thomas. And Thomas didn’t deserve someone as broken and horrible as him.

Maybe that was why he went back to Charles after the battle with Leviathan.

Because he thought that was what he deserved.

No matter how he felt he knew two things:

He didn’t deserve Thomas Lightwood.

And he wouldn’t let Thomas Lightwood follow him around like a little schoolboy anymore.

It wasn’t fair to either of them.

He walked into Charles’s study without hesitation.

“Hello, darling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎶On the second day of Angstmas, Riley gives to you 🎶

🎶Two broken hearts🎶

🎶And one Charles dying🎶

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Alastair calling Thomas “Tom/Tommy” > Alastair calling Charles “Charlie”

*insert that one Drake meme here*

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

A continuation of my fic from yesterday, And Someone Will Love You (But Someone Isn’t Me)

Title from Heather by Conan Gray

It’s December 3rd, bitches I had to

Tagging @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @life-through-the-eyes-of @wagnerthedragon @writeordie-4 @littlx-songbxrd

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Still Remember The Third of December

Thomas watched with sad eyes as Alastair climbed the stairs to Charles’s study.

Everything has been so…awkward since the Sanctuary and the aftermath of the battle.

Alastair had been ignoring his existence since then, avoiding him at all costs, only talking to him in necessary situations (usually social situations).

It wasn’t easy to watch the man that he might love ignore him. But it was worse to watch him go back to Charles.

Thomas couldn’t hide his heartbreak at that. He could excuse the pain of Alastair’s ignorance; but not the pain of Alastair going to someone else yet again.

He’d observed Alastair’s behavior around Charles these past few months, even when he was angry and not talking to Alastair.

Alastair seemed uncomfortable around him, and Cordelia seemed to know something about it too, since she defended Alastair against Charles at that party a few weeks ago.

It seemed strange to him that everything could suddenly change.

Maybe Charles almost dying changed that.

Maybe Charles almost dying made Alastair think that Thomas wasn’t worth it.

Maybe Alastair thought that kissing him was a mistake.

Maybe he isn’t good enough for Alastair and Alastair realized that.

Maybe Alastair was just using him to get back at Charles.

All those thoughts were swirling around his mind, each one like a knife stabbing through him.

How can loving someone hurt so much?

“Tom? I’m going back to the lab, are you coming?” His cousin’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. Kit was already at the door of the lab, clearly itching to get in to work on the concept of fire messages.

Thomas nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right there, Kit.”

As he made his way back to the lab, Thomas was struck with one more thought.

If he couldn’t have Alastair, at least he had his memories of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎶On the third day of Angstmas, Riley gives to you🎶

🎶Three angsty fics🎶

🎶Two broken hearts🎶

🎶And one Charles dying🎶

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Why does teacher's pet by melanie martinez give off ch*rlstair vibes

No because I can imagine Ch*rles calling Alastair special and Alastair wondering why he’s a secret if he’s so special

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Angstmas Ask Game!!!

This week, starting today and ending next Sunday, I will be accepting requests for Angstmas fics

You can use the angst prompts or submit an idea, song, etc.

Anon is on, as always

Tagging @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @writeordie-4 @life-through-the-eyes-of @wagnerthedragon @littlx-songbxrd

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Fingers Crossed by Lauren Spencer-Smith is Alastair @ Charles