#the infernal devices fanfiction

[singitoutgirl26]

Does anyone know of a fanfic where it's modern day and somehow Will Herondale gets brought back to life and ends up in a poly relationship with Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs with a happy ending? Because I really want to read a fic like that. Or even one set in the time period of The Infernal Devices where the three of them end up in a poly relationship? I need good fanfics to read for this universe😭 recommendations are 100% welcome

[vwritesaus]

SO. it's been a hot minute, i know, but i'm posting some wip snippets very shortly!!

to those who sent me those prompts from ages ago... these are for you ♡

[waywardwindee]

need a marauders in the shadowhunters universe fic so bad.

this was inspired by this note on my phone:

[jamessxcarstairs]

Title: The Jade Fist

Word Count: 1,914

Rating: G

Summary: "He poked his head around the corner, and saw Jem sitting on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees. It had been about two months since James Carstairs arrived at the Institute from Shanghai, and it was an odd adjustment. Not only was there now another Shadowhunter boy his own age in the Institute to train with, Will had actually taken a liking to him. And he’s pretty sure Jem feels the same way, which didn’t exactly bode well with Will’s plan to make sure no one ever liked him."

Will believes he may have found a new friendship in Jem. When he finds Jem upset over missing his family and his home, he discovers something that can make Jem less homesick.

Part 1 of If Aught but Death Part Thee and Me

Read it on Ao3

London. February, 1874.

Will was sitting up in his bed, nose deep in reading Dickens’ Oliver Twist . Ever since his arrival at the Institute three months ago, he had been throwing himself into reading any book he could get his hands on as a distraction. While it helped in some ways, in other ways it didn’t: it would help him in that moment, but the second he was called down for supper or for his tutoring he was reminded again.

Reminded of why he had to leave.

He still remembered the look in the demon’s eyes, the way Ella’s body looked after- No . He wasn’t going to think about that. He went back to his book and tried to lose himself in the story. He was swiftly pulled back to the present by a muffled noise outside his door. He didn’t know who was out there, but he really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Whoever's out there, you may as well just leave! I’m busy!” He shouted with as much venom as he could. Yet, the noise continued. Will, now irritated, got off of his bed in a huff and swung open the door. “I said …” and there was no one out there. He listened closer, and realized it was the sound of muffled sobs he had been hearing; it was coming from the main corridor.

Will shut the door to his room as softly as he could, and he walked down the hall towards the corridor. He poked his head around the corner, and saw Jem sitting on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees. It had been about two months since James Carstairs arrived at the Institute from Shanghai, and it was an odd adjustment. Not only was there now another Shadowhunter boy his own age in the Institute to train with, Will had actually taken a liking to him. And he’s pretty sure Jem feels the same way, which didn’t exactly bode well with Will’s plan to make sure no one ever liked him.

“James? A- Are you alright?” Will asked, a bit awkwardly. It had frightened Will how quickly being nasty and cruel towards people had become his gut response while speaking to people after only three months of living at the Institute. Though he supposed that if one forced themself to behave a certain way, it became second nature after a while. But Jem? Jem was different. He was already dying, so Will’s curse wouldn’t affect him, right?

“Will!” Jem exclaimed, clearly not expecting to see Will hovering over him like a lunatic. He stood up carefully, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t think anyone was down here.”

Will shrugged. “My room is down that way. I was just reading. Are you alright?” he asked again.

Jem looked down at his shoes, and shook his head a bit. “Just feeling a little homesick, that’s all,” he said, his voice small. Will took note of Jem’s hair in the glow of the witchlight lamps. He could’ve sworn there were more silver strands than when he saw Jem this morning, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

“Oh,” Will replied. Why am I so bad at this ? He thought to himself. “Is… there anything I can do to help?"

Jem smiled slightly, and nodded. “D’you want to take a walk with me back to my room? I could use the company.” Wordlessly, Will followed Jem down the corridor and they walked together in silence for a few moments.

“So, what were your parents like?” Will asked finally, trying to break the silence. Though he regretted it almost instantly when he noticed Jem flinch. “Nevermind, you don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t even know why I asked that,” he said, silently cursing himself.

“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. They were pretty amazing people.” Jem took a deep breath, and then continued. “My father, Jonah, is from London. And my mother, Wen Yu, is from Beijing. They met when they were teenagers while my mother was in London on her travel year. I inherited my mother’s features, though I’ve been told I have my father’s face. When I was very small, I barely remember the time before, my parents were assigned to run the Shanghai Institute, and-”

Jem stopped speaking suddenly, and Will glanced over to see that Jem’s eyes were starting to fill with tears. He started to panic.

“No, wait, don’t cry!” Will put his hand on the other boy’s shoulder, hoping to reassure him, but then pulled away as he tried to come up with something to cheer him up. “Jem, have you ever heard of… demon pox?”

Jem looked up at him at that, cracking a slight smile. “What?”

“By the Angel, you’ve never heard of demon pox?” Will said with mock concern. “It’s a horrid thing, really. What a way to die.”

“I don’t think demon pox exists, Will.”

“But it does! Why, they only way one can get it is by going down to deepest, dampest part of town, and f-”

“William? James?” A voice interrupted Will’s rant. Around the corner came Charlotte, holding a witchlight stone. “Oh! I thought I heard your voices. What are you boys doing down here?”

“I was just telling Jem here all about demon pox. Wild stuff,” Will said. He heard Jem stifle a laugh.

Charlotte sighed. “Will, I told you to stop speaking such nonsense. Anyway, Jem, it’s you I was looking for.”

“Me?” Jem asked.

“Yes, James. Henry has something he’d like to show you. He’s waiting in the drawing room,” Charlotte said gently.

Jem nodded, and said “thank you, Charlotte,” and went to go follow her. Then, he turned around to look at Will. “Why don’t you come along, Will?”

Will, shocked by Jem’s gesture, didn’t know what to say. “I dunno, Henry isn’t quite used to my charming wit yet. I wouldn’t want him to blow a gasket on my account.”

“ Will …” Charlotte scolded.

“I insist. Please come,” Jem said, gesturing down the corridor with his arm.

Will hesitated a moment, but then nodded and said “alright,” and started after them.

“Jem, thank you for coming! Oh, and Will. Thank you for coming, too!” Henry said.

Will entered the drawing room with Jem and Charlotte, and he saw Henry sitting on one of the massive sofas holding something wrapped in parchment.

“What’ve you got there, Henry? Dear God, please don’t tell me it’s another invention…” Will exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Well, yes, I suppose it is,” Henry said, thinking about it for a moment. “Jem, I have something for you. I tried to do research on what kind of weapons might’ve been popular at the Shanghai Institute, and I came to the conclusion that long swords were quite popular! So, the best part is that not only can this be used as a weapon, it also has a practical, everyday use as well.” Will caught Charlotte’s glance at Henry, and she looked incredibly proud.

Jem took the item from Henry, and started to unwrap the parchment. Will watched in silence as Jem lifted the item from the parchment, and saw his eyes widen in surprise. It was a walking stick with a jade dragon-headed top.

“It’s a sword that doubles as a walking stick!” Henry said. “Isn’t it exquisite? The sword pops out when you press that switch there, and I thought the walking stick could give you support on the days when you’re feeling ill. I even included some jade in the embellishments, since I learned that it can be found in the river near where you grew up.”

“This is incredible, Henry! Thank you,” Jem said, a huge smile on his face. It was the type of smile that lit up your whole face, Will thought. It was the first time Will had seen Jem truly smile since arriving at the Institute. Will the knew what he could do to cheer Jem up.

That night, Will traveled down to Whitechapel to peruse the night market there, which was run by Downworlders and Sighted mundanes. He walked along until he came to a booth that was run by a warlock woman with bright, blue hair, and was covered head-to-toe in jewels.

“What brings you to my booth, little Shadowhunter?” The woman asked curiously.

“I’m looking for something to give to my friend. D’you have anything made from jade?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve got only the finest jade imported all the way from Shanghai,” the woman said, pulling out a large, wooden box, and revealing hundreds of jade pieces in various shapes and sizes. The one that caught his eye was small and round, and if you looked carefully you could see that it resembled a closed fist.

This would be perfect , Will thought. He then paid for the jade piece, and went on his way, trying to figure out the best way to give it to him.

When Will got back to the Institute, he heard the familiar sound of Jem’s violin, and followed it to Jem’s room. He pushed the bedroom door open, and he saw Jem sitting on the trunk at the foot of his bed, looking rather feverish.

“Jem,” Will said, trying to get his attention.

The violin playing ceased, and Jem turned his head to look at Will. “Oh! Hello, Will,” Jem said, his eyes lighting up.

“You don’t look so well,” said Will. “Did you take any of the… the stuff?”

Jem sighed. “Yes, I just did. This is my immediate reaction to it, becoming feverish and whatnot. It’s rather-”

“I got something for you,” Will interrupted.

“You got something for me ?” Jem asked, looking incredulous.

“I heard what Henry said earlier about jade, and I thought this would make you feel less homesick if you had it.” Will pulled the small parcel out of his pocket, and handed it to Jem.

Jem took it, and started to unwrap it. Will’s heart started to beat rapidly, trying to anticipate what his reaction would be.

“Wow…” Jem said finally, his fingers gliding over the jade. He looked up at Will then, and his face crumbled. He walked over to Will and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his shoulder.

Will stiffened. He normally would have pushed them away if someone tried to hug him, but he let Jem hug him in that moment; he felt tears dampen the material of Will’s shirt. The sound of his sobs broke Will’s heart. It was the sound of a boy who felt lost and alone, much like he did; the thought made Will’s own eyes well up with tears.

“Thank you, Will,” Jem said, his voice muffled by Will’s shirt. At that, Will wrapped his own arms around Jem, holding on to him tightly. Will wasn’t very good at friendships, but in that moment he vowed that he would try to be for Jem.

The next morning at breakfast, Jem took his normal seat at the dining room table next to Will. He smiled at Will as he sat down, and he noticed something shining at Jem’s collar. It was the jade pendant that Will had given to him last night; he had attached a chain to it, and was wearing it as a necklace. Will felt his face heat up and he ducked his head, smiling to himself.

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀꜱᴇx ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni 18+ - m/f sex.

summary - you ride will herondale.

word count - 508.

will herondale.

“I like that,” he shuddered, his arms wrapped around your waist as he possessively held onto you, you, who had eagerly bounced on his cock had your body leaned against the warmth of his chest, arms looped around his shoulders, focused on chasing your cum that your heat had tightly pulsed around his width.

Just as you had promised from your recent mission, you’d fuck Will if he continued to be good, and as if the world had become alternate, the blue-eyed boy had become well-mannered, courteous and doting, hiding the lump in his trousers he had desperately wanted you to take care off.

You had rolled your hips, your wet walls throbbing against the skin of his cock, the head of his penis licking against the sponginess of your sex, his eyes drunk and dark as he felt his head spiralling, he had wanted this to last for God knows how long, how open his mouth had been, his spit gently drooling down his chin as he had been intoxicated by his lust. Bucking his hips forward, drunk off your hearth as he robotically moved his body.

Smoothly, you had moved your fingers to his chin, cupping his face ere moving to press your lips against his, he had behaved like a dog, one that belonged to an owner, an obedient pet willing to be destroyed by his Goddess, how a dream come true this was, how many moments he had fantasised about you, taking him, riding him and embracing him like the touch starved man he was.

“[Y/N],” he breathed out, whiny, his cock twitching between your cunt, throbbing with impending cum, holding onto your body tight, his demeanour desperate and submissive, his usual cool blue eyes now dark with lust looking into yours, reticently begging you to allow him to cum and once you had purposely locked and tightened your sex around his width---he had grunted, his moan dismayed and chopped, “I love you!” He cried out once his load seeped and coated the warm walls of your cunt.

His grip around you now loose as he had fell against his back, his mind dumb and anxious of the intense climax your wetness and warmth had brought to him, his hands now beside your hips as you rolled yourself, racing and reaching for your climax, using him as your toy while fiddling with your bare and hard nipples. “Good boy,” you moaned, “lay like that for me,” you whimpered while bouncing your figure up his cock, the curved tip of his shaft bruising the soft formless button inside your sex, your heat wetting around his width as you had begun to cream around his length.

“Oh yeah!” You cried out, “fuck!” You whimpered, your body now arthritic and rigid while the rest of your orgasm capped and painted his member aided with soft whines and whimpers rooted from Will, who had looked up at you with soft passionate eyes. “You think everybody heard?” You asked and with a weak chuckle, Will had nodded.

“Definitely.”

ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇʀᴏɴᴅᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

[kvohru]

boxes of clementines | w. herondale

will herondale x fem reader, no mention of shadowhunter stuff, established relationship, husband!will, fluff!!!! so much fluff!!!!, cross posted on ao3 under @/kvohru

‘There are boxes of clementines in the kitchen and the thing is that I love you again.’ — Alessia Di Cesare, The Side Effects of Eating Too Many Clementines

Despite it being a December morning, it was surprisingly warm in your home— for a wintry London day's standards, that is. The sun was up, for one thing, its delicate rays filtering through the clouds and into your kitchen.

Perhaps it's the fact that you live in the countryside? you thought idly as you put away your groceries. Maybe that's why it was sunnier today? Well, regardless, your warm friend was still a welcome guest any day.

Seeing as how it was the weekend today, neither you nor Will had work, so you took it as a chance to get caught up on some housekeeping chores like groceries and such. Well, you had been out getting groceries while Will—who was set to return by the afternoon—was out doing… other things. (He was out replacing something or the other, you weren't quite focusing when he had told you about it the other day.)

And so you went on, adopting a tranquil rhythm, sorting boxes into cupboards and washing all the fresh produce you'd bought. Apples, strawberries and cucumbers were left to soak in the sink while the boxes of clementines were left on the kitchen counters.

You let out a contented sigh. It was a good morning.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It was well past the afternoon when Will was walking up the stone walkway to the quaint countryside home. In fact, the sun was already starting to set by then, the pale blue sky quickly turning a warm orange instead.

He trudged up the steps to the front porch, adjusting the large bouquet in his hands; a brilliant arrangement of flowers that he didn't think twice about buying when he passed by that florist he often frequented for you.

He shifted the bags he was carrying along with said bouquet to his other arm, freeing up his right to dig into his coat pocket for the keys. “Cariad?” he called as he walked in, toeing his shoes off and placing them neatly beside the door.

It was a few seconds before your reply, which came in form of a Hm?, could be heard. He set all the bags down. A few more seconds where he could hear your feet padding across the wooden floors before you finally, finally, came into view.

“Will!” After all these years, you still had a way of seeming utterly excited when seeing him. I mean, he could practically see the almost cartoonish glimmer in your eyes from across the room.

“Hey, darling,” he greeted gently, his whole body instantly relaxing at the sight of you. It was as if simply being around you worked all the knots from his shoulders and eased all his muscles.

The smile wholly transformed your face at the sound of the term of endearment, the corners of your eyes crinkling adorably and your lips splitting instantly into a wide smile.

The setting sun cast long shadows on the ground, the slanting rays giving a warm orange tinge to the earth, the sky and everything in between.

Your eyes finally left his face and travelled down to his body, where you finally spotted the bouquet balanced on his elbow. He had thought it'd be the first thing you'd notice when he walked in, seeing as how it was almost as big as his torso, but you hadn't.

You'd been too transfixed on his face, on him, to notice anything else.

Your face instantly softened, an almost infinitesimal shift in your expression that would've been impossible to notice if it were anyone else looking at you. But Will noticed. He always did.

It was like it was happening in slow motion, that change in your expression. From the previous childlike joy at seeing your husband to the look of pure, unadulterated love in your eyes.

“Oh, darling,” you breathed, almost to yourself, as you walked closer. You gingerly plucked the bouquet out of his arm, instantly pulling it up to your face to smell it. It really was a gorgeous arrangement; from the roses to the carnations to the peonies, and the tiny pieces of baby's breath sprinkled throughout.

And the part that made it all the more precious to you was that you knew Will had taken time out of his day to put it together. You knew it wasn't prearranged, and the image of your husband standing at the florist and meticulously putting together an assortment of flowers for you warmed your heart to an immeasurable degree.

“Will,” you breathed again, and… were you getting teary-eyed? You looked up at him, and yep, those were definitely tears lining your waterline. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth lifting at the sight. “They're so beautiful. You're so beautiful. Thank you so much. I love you.”

You were gushing your praises and gratitude now, and it wouldn't be long before—

“Wait,” you mumbled, a look of realisation (which looked more like horror than anything) falling over your face. You whipped your head around, your ponytail smacking him in the chest from the force of the motion.

He barely contained his amused scoff. You were and would always be incredibly and adorably predictable. Not to mention incredibly easy to read, too.

“No occasion,” he said, interrupting your Oh No Did I Miss An Important Date?™ scanning-over-the-calendar routine. You let out an audible sigh of relief, your whole body slumping forward with the motion, and this time Will couldn't hold back the smug grin.

You set the bouquet down and looked at him, suspicious despite your relief. He could practically hear the question in your gaze (refer back to what I said about you being incredibly easy to read), and he was sure it went something like this: A bouquet this big for no reason?

He sighed dramatically and leaned closer, his voice taking on that classic teasing lilt of his, “What? Can't a man surprise his wife with flowers in peace?”

“But why?” you insisted quietly. Clearly, you were incredibly worried you'd somehow forgotten about an important date. Because what if you had and Will, being the ever so gracious (debatable) man that he was, didn't want to embarrass you by reminding you?

“Just because.”

“But it's so big.” Your worried gaze met his, and his grin split even wider.

“Not the only big thing I can—”

You smacked him lightly on the arm to shut him up. “Come on!” he complained, forever the melodramatic man that he was, “You practically walked into that one!”

You rolled your eyes, but the gesture held absolutely no heat, especially not when you were smiling despite yourself. “Thank you,” you said sincerely, rising up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, and hoping he could sense the extent of your gratitude in that kiss.

“Of course, my love,” he murmured softly between kisses, the teasing leaving his voice entirely and being replaced by an insurmountable amount of love.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

A while later, after he had changed and joined you back in the kitchen, the two of you could be found sitting at the kitchen island, sharing a clementine.

[livsoulsecrets]

Tessa&Kit Fic - You were an angel in the shape of my mom

Written for @fandombingo Martian Bingo prompt: “The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to get.”

Fandom: The Shadowhunters Chronicles.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences.

Summary: In the day of Rosemary’s death anniversary, Tessa and Kit talk about loss, guilt and survival.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The down tilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

Read on AO3.

The sun had already begun to set when Kit heard Tessa stepping into the porch of their backyard.

He spent most of the afternoon tucked into the recliner Jem bought as a gift for Tessa, lost in thought.

He had good memories of countless afternoons spent chasing Mina around the green expanse of their garden as Tessa settled in to watch them, a book in hand.

He also found it was as good a place as any for sulking.

His mom settled into the less comfortable wood chair by his side and turned her body to face him. He very deliberately avoided her gaze.

She seemed determined not to push him, if her quietness and smooth movements were any indicators. It reminded him of his first weeks living there.

Tessa and Jem had been painstakingly careful around him, mindful of their words and postures, easygoing and kind, trying their hardest not to scare him away. It made Kit feel like a ticking bomb about to go off half the time. The other half, it made him feel oddly wanted.

Kit wished she would just tell him what to do, only this once. He was good at following a parent’s orders, most of the time. He tended to Johnny Rook’s every whim for years, after all.

But Tessa wouldn’t. She always had good advice to offer and time to hear him out, should he ask for it, but no orders to be followed blindly ever came out of her lips.

If only Kit didn’t hate the idea of asking for help so badly, he would appreciate her patience some more.

“I’m fine,” he said, breaking the silence once it became clear Tessa wouldn’t.

“That’s good to hear,” she replied, unconvinced.

He tapped his feet against the floor impatiently. “It‘s just a bad day. Nothing to worry about.”

Tessa hummed noncommittally and nodded. “I see.”

Kit huffed an annoyed breath and immediately regretted it when his mom’s eyebrows knitted together in a pained expression.

He hated to be the one causing her so much distress. Still, the attentive way her eyes tracked his every movement made his skin crawl.

It reminded him of nights spent sneaking his way through the Shadow Market, his father’s eyes seemingly everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching and waiting for his next mistake.

Tessa wasn’t looking for a reason to punish him, but he feared that his skin would always crawl at the feeling of being watched closely, regardless of whose eyes were laid on him.

“Do you need some time alone? I can leave,” she offered, even though the idea clearly displeased her.

Why couldn’t he stop screwing everything up?

He already had two dead parents and a whole lineage of tragedy to account for. Did he really need to make life harder for Tessa, too?

“No, that’s not it,” he hurried to say, pulling his legs up to tuck his knees under his chin.

Tessa went very still, intelligent gray eyes narrowed. Her silence spelled out the questions she wouldn’t ask out loud.

“What’s it, then?” He could almost make out in the curious glint of her eyes.

“Tell me,” The tense line of her jaw nearly let out.

“Let me help,” Her hands said as they drew patterns over her sweater.

“I think I liked it better when I didn’t know anything about Rosemary,” he muttered finally, rocking the chair back and forth.

Tessa hummed. If the statement surprised her, she didn’t show it at all.

“Now that I do know some things, as small as they are, it hurts more. I thought it would make everything better if I knew what she was like or why she left.”

Kit played with a loose strand of fabric on his shorts, pulling on it with more force than needed as he spoke.

“It doesn’t really help,” he confessed. “Now I know the exact day she died—and what for? So I can have one day every year for the rest of my life to feel miserable?”

He gestured broadly to himself, still avoiding his mom’s sharp gaze.

When it became clear he had nothing else to say, Tessa gently reached for his hand, stilling his attack on the worn-out fabric of his clothes. “I can understand why days like today can weigh you down. I’m afraid there’s not much to be done about that.”

Kit tensed immediately, realizing how pathetic it was for him to whine about Rosemary’s death anniversary in front of Tessa, of all people.

She had experienced more grief than almost anyone else he knew, except for Jem. They had lost everything but each other. The weight of so much loss became so heavy some days that Kit could almost touch it in the air of their home, tucked away in the corners of the house and hidden behind the echoing sound of Mina’s giggles.

Tessa sensed his regret and rushed to reassure him, “I’m not saying this because I want us to compare our losses. It’s a pointless game to play, believe me.”

She laid a hand on his knee, stopping his shaking leg. Kit hadn’t even realized it was moving that much.

“What I can tell you is that we honor those we lost by living.”

It was a beautiful sentiment, he could admit, but it felt too out of reach for himself.

“I didn’t lose her,” he mumbled in response. Tessa startled, titling her head in clear confusion. “I never had her in the first place.”

Tessa said nothing, just waited as he worked through the lump in his throat.

“Sometimes I feel so angry at her for leaving me behind,” he confessed. “For dying before I had a chance to really know her.”

He laughed a hollowed sound, devoid of any joy. Tessa’s eyebrows scrunched together in a painful twist of her serene expression.

“Isn’t that ridiculous?” He huffed. “Rosemary gave everything up to protect me. She died for me, and I’m still angry because… Because I didn’t have anyone to draw a Mother’s Day card for? Because she didn’t tuck me into bed and read me a story every night?”

To his horror, his breathing grew heavier alongside the tears dropping from his cheeks. He forcefully rubbed at his face to dry them.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The downtilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to take a double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

She had never spoken to him like that before—so hurt and fierce, like someone had reached inside her chest and broken her heart in two.

“Kit,” she whispered, propping his face up with two of her fingers against his chin. “Don’t you ever repeat that, do you understand? Never again.”

He nodded, still taken aback by her reaction. Then, Tessa softly ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him gently.

“It’s not stupid to feel angry at our parents for the choices they made that impacted our lives,” Tessa said, her own eyes watery. “I didn’t have a chance to know Rosemary, but I’m sure she wouldn’t blame you for what you feel now or for how you felt growing up.”

Had anyone ever held him the way Tessa did now? Had any other person in the world looked at him with so much sorrow in their eyes and managed not to make him squirm under their gaze?

“Being left behind leaves a scar. It doesn’t matter what the reasons were. As noble as they may be, they still hurt. It doesn’t make you a bad son to still carry this hurt with you. You must feel it. In fact, the longer you wait to feel it, the worse it gets.”

He shook his head in denial, the feel of Tessa’s hand against his nape like hot iron for a moment as Kit felt the familiar grief taking over.

“I was just a baby when she left. I can’t miss someone I didn’t know,” he countered.

Tessa smiled sadly, larger and older than life. “Oh, dear, I wish that was true.”

Kit suddenly felt very small and young, as Tessa’s voice became sadder and more ominous.

“Our hearts and bodies carry pain far past what our minds can see. All it takes is one moment for it to be brought forward. Yes, you were too young to remember what it was like to have Rosemary as a mother. It doesn’t change the fact you lost her. It doesn’t mean you can’t mourn what could have been.”

Kit wasn’t sure he believed in that completely. His father had taught him that it was stupid to dwell on the past, especially if it involved his mother.

Tessa was a far smarter and kinder person than Johnny, but Kit had learned that such deeply ingrained lessons were hard to unlearn.

“Any mother would be lucky to have you as a son, Kit,” Tessa said, holding his face delicately, her thumb caressing the slope of his cheek. “I know I am.”

Kit looked at his mom—really, properly looked at her. Her face, preserved by time. Her gray eyes, kinder than he deserved them to be. Her smile, small and sincere and heavy with loss.

He loved her so much more than his heart could bear. He loved her and trusted her and couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t love him too.

Kit wasn’t used to believing he had earned his place in anyone’s life, but Tessa made it feel so easy—like he didn’t need to earn anything in the first place.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, sounding like a scared boy searching for dry land in a revolting sea.

And Tessa threw him a lifeline as easily as she had undone each of his defenses. “I do. Of course I do.”

She laid a kiss on his temple. His eyes closed, and he instinctively leaned into the touch.

Kit felt far younger than he truly was as Tessa held him and pressed kisses to his forehead. He was certain, then, that the steadfastness of her love would never cease to amaze him.

When Tessa pulled back to look into his eyes again, he ruffled his hair before saying, “I’ll never try to replace her, Kit. She’s your mother too and will always be. You don’t need to be scared of talking about her.”

He nodded. His throat felt too tight for him to try and say anything at all.

“But since the day I laid my eyes on you, I’ve loved you. I knew that feeling, deep in my gut. I had felt it three times before, and I felt it again when I met you.”

His treacherous, already swollen, eyes watered once more against his will. Tessa’s gray ones mirrored his, if kinder and wiser.

“My sweet, brave boy,” she whispered, pulling him to her chest again. “I love you. So much more than you know.”

Kit laced his arms around her, slotting his face in the crook of Tessa’s neck.

For once, he didn’t doubt her.

[caterpillarinacave]

"You'd be a good father, you know.”

 “Me? A father?” Magnus gave a half laugh, sounding both incredulous and a little startled “Somehow I don’t think that would go very well.”

“I disagree” Henry responded, successfully fitting a second mitten on his son’s hand.    “You’re a very kind person.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think- Well,” Magnus sighed, then shook his head “Besides the destruction I would wrought on an impressionable young mind, warlocks can’t have children. You know that, Henry.”

Henry held up a finger, pausing the conversation to address the toddler in his lap.

“Matthew, you must keep your mitten’s on when we are outside. Will you do that?” He received an earnest nod of confirmation from his little boy. “That’s a good boy.” 

Henry pressed a kiss to Matthew’s forehead, before setting him down and sending him off with a pat on the head. 

“You know, Magnus, you needn’t conceive a child to be their father,” Henry continued addressing his friend once again “And for what it’s worth, I think you would make an exceptional parent.”

Magnus opened his mouth to respond, but found himself robbed of the chance by the delighted high pitched shrieking of a child who seemed to have deemed the majority of his clothing overly restrictive; and he was now running amok, minus his jacket, shirt, hat, and shoes. Although, Magnus observed, to the child's credit, Matthew was still wearing his mittens.

- Snippet of Magnus Bane centric WIP

[reality-exodus]

The Last Hours of a Herondale

Ch2 sparkles

Words:2k

Pairing: Matthew Fairchild x Fem!Herondale

I walked out on a fast pace without turning back or waiting for my brother's Parabatai. I was wearing my own coat now as I strolled down the alley to get on the bridge and find my way to the institute.

"He just worries you know" I heard, I could see Matthew walking behind me with the side of my eye, he was still holding his extravagant coat in hand. "And can you please stop rushing on my account I will get my alcohol, therefore I wish this was more scenic" Matthew joked. I admired the way he used his vocabulary always, sobber or not. I listened to his wish, my arms crossed across my torso, I was making this gesture to highlight my fury, although if I am being frank I was shivering to the freezing temperature of London.

"Didn't sincerely seemed like he was concerned about me, more like he did not have the mood to hear our father whine about his daughter to be wandering alone helpless in the streets of this horrific city, As if I am a damsel in distress." I barked, my nerves were still tense, I was too angry to concentrate on anything.

Matthew didn't reply immediately, he touched my shoulders carefully to place his coat on me, he observed my being cold. I tensed and reflexively turned to face him, shocked, not so much because of his gesture but with the fact that I felt as if I would see something. I always looked chill with my charisma therefore I was freaking out most of the time internally. "Do not worry, I know. It is not nice to watch another broken past." He assured me and I exhaled relieved lightly and placed my arms on the sleeves while he tied the belt around my waist gently.

"Its never the past that gets me unnerved. Even though I think I witness the worse of you every time you drink alcohol." I spoke and looked at him. I rarely seen his eyes so upclose. They were green, darker as if the reasons that got him drunk every day and night had shaded his eyes too.

"And what unnerves you?" He asked me. Despite the instability of his voice that seemed so familiar since he was more drunk than sober.

"When I see the future, I have only seen it a few times. Three to be honest." I spoke and looked elsewhere, I was scared to look for his comment or his eye contact, these were things I avoided speaking of, barely mentioned them to my parents. "I will get going it gets colder" I excused myself, expecting him into offering to escort me.

"I was leaving anyway, my beautiful bottle is right down this way." Matthew spoke and walked away from me. I smiled and started walking down the bridge.

The way there was peaceful and calming, I was gazing at the cloudy sky trying to make out at least a small, tiny star but the rain that started a few minutes ago was getting stronger. It felt nice, the droplets on the coat and on my hair made me colder but the feeling was refreshing as the wind blew as well. I placed my hand to the bottom of my chaotic braided bun and set it loose into the two braids and I started loosing them as well.

I was so peaceful and calm. Forgot about my fight with James, the vision of Polly, the demon splatter and the times I saw James disappear and Matthew almost lose his life. I opened the door and walked in unknown of the mess I was in. I hoped I wouldn't meet anyone. I only went inside Lucie's room, I hoped she would be awake. I knocked the door.

"Come in" her sweet voice sounded and poked my head in. "What happened to you? Where is James?" she asked, her voice sketched with concern as well as her expression, she stood up from her desk and approached me. We were the same height even though she was two years younger than me. Her hand got my wrist and pulled me inside her room. "If mama and papa see you, you'll scare them to death." She spoke.

"Nothing happened, we only killed a demon." I replied and threw my boots next to the door and walked to her mirror to witness myself the big deal. I, indeed looked horrible, my light brown hair were wet and filled with mud that made them stick together and my face had dirt as the rain spilled the light make up I wore. "James made it explode." I sighed.

"And why are you wearing Math's clothes?" she asked me. "You are shaking..." she noticed.

I smiled subconsciously as I took off the coat and let it fall on the ground. "He accompanied me up to a point on my way home and I was cold." I explained briefly as I started taking off the heavy and wet equipment. "Could I use your bathroom? I do not feel comfortable being on my own." I added with false hopes that she would not start the curiosity drill of questions.

"Why? What happened?" Lucie asked me as she assisted me, with great care to not trigger any seizure, to take off the rest of the equipment until I was with the underskirt.

"Nothing in particular." I spoke as I took her comb and started untangling the mass in my head trying to remove as much of mud as possible. I felt my sister's gaze upon my back and let out a sigh. She probably was the only person I was unable to keep secrets from. I was a pretty cold person therefore Lucie can read me, even though my pages are always blank. "Alright, I fought with James before I left. I was certainly right with my arguments. Perhaps, I was a bit harsh." I explained.

"Oh do not even worry, he won't remember it in the morning..." Lucie smiled lightly. "This is why you came here. To cover for him, so mom and dad won't know you returned alone?" her smile got bigger. She is such a sweet angel. When me and James fight she is more sad than we are. 'You are twins, you can't talk to each other like that, you are supposed to be two of a whole' she usually quotes and tries to stop our conflict which most of the time plays out into a best sarcastic comeback battle as we actually forgot what we fought about.

"You really think so?" I asked lightly and then walked into her bathroom as I started washing the mud from my face.

"Do you remember what you fought for?" asked Lucie and my smile disappeared lightly. "Well, since it is this serious, tell me about it." She encouraged me and I exhaled unwilling to so.

"Do not tell mama and papa... James started disappearing during the battle... It was a close call for me and Math, and especially for Math... After we killed it, we went at that stupid tavern they hang out... And I had a seizure with flashback. So we were kind of on edge both of us." I unriddle the events of the night as I filled the tub with water.

"I don't think you are worried that you spoke harsh to James. You are simply upset. Come on. Have your shower and I will get you some tea and then I can tell you about my book, so you take your mind off." Lucie giggled and I nodded with soft smile. I winked and nodded before she closed the door of the bathroom.

~

I came out of the tub and saw that my sister brought pajamas and underwear, freshly washed, they smelled vanilla and sandal wood. The clothes were mine. I wore them and walked out to the bed where I saw her laying with a book. "Feeling better?" she asked me and I nodded.

I climbed next to her on the bed and placed the book aside with a smile as she took her brush and removed the towel. Lucie began to brush my hair. I have curly and long hair, longer than hers, with the color of my father's while I had my mom's eyes, deep gray. The brush met a comb and she abruptly untangled it making me jump.

"I am careful, you know that" Lucie reassured me with a sweet smile, she knew I was anxious.

I didn't really felt when I fell asleep, I hugged Lucie's stuffed animal. Tomorrow would be a great day, the Carstairs would arrive. I was happy to see them, to see Daisy and Alastair again. I was probably the only one who found Alastair likeable but this didn't really matter, he didn't seem to care that much to converse with anyone. Us Herondales have a special place for the Carstairs family in our hearts. My father's parabatai was a Carstairs, uncle Jem became a silent brother under awful circumstances while he was on his death bed owing to a demons doings. I cannot imagine how my father was feeling back then, I do not have a parabatai like James has and like Lucie will soon have. I have a close relationship with Barbara and Anna Lightwood but none of them to a point to have such eternal and unbreakable bond.

Uncle Jem must be the only person I can talk to about the visions I see and not feel like a freak. The whole clave looks at me and my brother as if we are some kind of unexpressed danger against the Nephelim race. Even my mother and father are uncomfortable when we speak about it. Perhaps it is in my head. Uncle Jem always knows what to tell me to ease me and not make me feel... different from everyone else. Speaking of whom I had to summon him, I was obliged to report to him every single vision I had as well as the conditions it came under.

"Lina..." I heard in my sleep as I felt a soft shake. I turned around ignoring the voice and this is when the blanket was pulled violently from my figure. "Lina!"

"What!" I exclaimed disturbed and shot up.

"Get dressed we have to get breakfast the Carstairs will be here soon" Lucie spoke as she was literally jumping up and down on her mattress.

"Is James back?" I asked her.

"Yes he is." James replied and I turned my head to see our brother sitting in the arm chair on Lucies room, it was next to the pile of my dirty clothes.

"Oh Good morning" I greeted and sat up and leaned to the bedframe as I stared at him. The gash on his hand was fully healed and he looked well and rested.

"Oh Good morning to you too" He chimed therefore his expression was just like mine dead serious as we only stared at each other. I could sense Lucie darting her gaze between us.

"Now come on you two..." Lucie began when a ghost appeared in the middle of the room.

"Oh look at the two naughty Herondales following their father's footsteps once again. Stubborn as donkeys!" Jessamine floated in the room.

"Ah great, here were the commentary again." I spoke inside my teeth.

"Jealous much Lina? At least the ghost can form more ingenious sentences than you." James smiled at me. The revenge begun.

"At least the ghost has the intelligence to think before they speak nonsense." I smiled back, Lucie was saying we had the same facial features, even our teeth and expressional wrinkles were the same, everything except our eye-color. He had brown eyes, I had gray.

"At least the ghost has manners!" Jessamine whined at us. "Like father, they say..." she sighed and floated to the edge dramatically.

"Does she though?" James asked Jessamine and she turned her attention to him, her expression puzzled.

"You really do just barge in a room, that is really not lady like." I commented with a fake frown, my posture was suddenly fixed as I was remarking the good manners that my father always said were more important than anything else. She was the last Lovelace of her family name and now she was haunting my house.

"Uh Tessie really left your upbringing to Will didn't she?" Jessamine huffed in annoyance when my father opened the room.

"She indeed did, Jess. Aren't they adorably charming?" My father asked as he looked at us his eyes were smiling.

"So adorably charming that they get on my nerves almost as much as you do Herondale." Jessamine spoke up.

"Then I did a wonderful job." He smiled lightly and sat down on the bed next to me. "How did the hunt go? You must have returned late huh?" Will asked us. I could see his gaze searching for injuries or any sign that needed his attendance or an iratze.

"It went well actually. We found a Deumas demon" James spoke and then my father looked at me.

"And? What happened?" Will asked us, I could sense his enthusiasm.

"Well at first I was up the building watching Matthew and James. And they struggled a bit, so I thought I would step in." I smiled proudly and felt James' eyes on me.

"Yes, Lina stepped in and saved Math's ass..." James spoke and our mom stepped in.

"James! Language." She noticed and allowed him to keep going.

"She used the whip and injured it and lured it away from Math but then it cornered her and thankfully Thomas was there and assisted Lina." James continued and smiled at me.

"James recovered from the hit and he tried to kill it at first but then he had a gash on the hand during this attempt so me and Thomas kept it in line when my bright twin came slashed it and filled us with ichor and blood." I finished the story.

"And then we stayed at Devil's Tavern for a drink." James spoke up and looked at me.

"Or eight?" I lied with a giggle.

"Eight? Linette!" My mother exclaimed and made a move to touch my forehead and I pulled myself from the way.

"I am fine mom, I do not have temperature or something. I was only a bit dizzy and Luce offered to brew some lemon balm with anice to sooth my stomach." I exclaimed. They knew I was uncomfortable with physical contact.

"I was with her as well. And so were the boys its really not big deal, or the first time it happens" James tried to cover for me but he earned an almost infuriated gaze from our father.

"Well it isn't that bad..." Lucie intervened.

"Well I was celebrating the demon victory. And then I got entinced by the drunks around me?" I smiled and my father shook his head. "I know I am a girl and I shouldn't- ." I started off and then saw my parents exchange a look.

"Lina... It is not that. Honestly I couldn't care less what each one of those pretentious Clave members has to say about me, my wife, my children or my parabatai. Both me and your mother have been through the gossiping and it doesn't real phase us, it never did. We just want you to be safe." My father spoke and carefully took my hand I exhaled as I realized I was still wearing gloves.

"I don't see you preaching my twin about these. But anyway, I see your points and your concerns." I spoke and gave him a light smile and removed my hand. If you'll excuse me. I must get prepared for breakfast." I excused myself to go to my room. I didn't know how I felt and suddenly I wasn't in the mood of socializing either. Even if it was with the Carstairs.

[thelikesoffinn]

I hate the ongoing hypocrisy sometimes.

Like, chaps. People. Beautiful butterflies.

You are allowed to turn straight characters gay bi ace or whatever you want in your fanwork. Go for all them Ronance, Harringrove, Drarry and Clizzy's.

You're allowed to turn them trans, you're allowed to have them in poly relationships. Into Herongraystrairs but want to write about Will becoming a woman? Totally fine! Ron x Hermione x Harry? Cool, go for it.

It's your imagination! Write that fantasy gay slash AU, draw that trans character fan art - it's all up to you!

But.

But.

That goes both ways.

So if someone really likes the thought of, let's say, Steve and Robin together, we can't go ahead and throw stones because Robin is canonically gay. She is, of course she is! Just like Steve is canonically straight and overly in love with stupid Nancy - doesn't mean Steddie fanfics are any less cute, right?

It's just fan work. It's for fun. It's for living out your fantasies. And that includes writing characters that are gay in a straight ship and vice versa.

You don't have to like it! But man, just let people live.

Jesus Christ.

[paraheronstairs]

my ao3, fanfiction.net and wattpad history are coming with me into the grave, respectfully

[vwritesaus]

TSC WIP snippets pt. 1

this is a RATHER LONG POST sorry so i will put everything under the cut :>

to @faithfromanewperspective:

      ‘Is this Adelaide?’ Thomas asks in a high voice, his tone coloured with surprise. ‘I see no churches at all…’       ‘It’s just… sand,’ Alastair mutters by way of agreement. …       ‘Apologies for the intrusion,’ Thomas begins, grinning shyly, ‘but I think we’re lost.’       ‘Lost!’ The man bursts out into crowing laughter and slaps Thomas on the shoulder. Alastair winces from the force of the action and the sound echoing in the chamber. ‘Let me guess—you were bound for Adelaide?’       Thomas blinks. ‘How did you—?’       ‘You’ll be amazed how many Shadowhunters end up here instead of Adelaide,’ the man tells him. ‘I swear, ever since those Portals became popular, our travelling system has gone to the dogs! You can’t go wrong with a horse and carriage, or just a horse, but no—you simply must travel by Portal now. Extremely unreliable, I say.’

to my four lovely anons:

1—       When Thomas peers into the box, whatever remaining confusion was on his face vanishes. He stares blankly at the inside, his fingers frozen in place against the corners, and Alastair feels part of his stomach drop.              ‘Alastair… what is this?’ Thomas asks softly.        Alastair is grateful to find no disappointment or annoyance imbued in his voice—and then immediately chastises himself for thinking something so ridiculous in the first place. This is Thomas, the man who took his heart and holds it like it's precious and worthy and wanted. The man who saw past all the nastiness, the cold front Alastair had put up for so many years, and continued to love him regardless.       The man who Alastair wants to spend the rest of his life with, no matter the odds. So he clears his throat slightly, shaking away the anxiety, and says, ‘It’s my ring, Tom,’ as though he is merely commenting on the weather.       ‘I can see that,’ Thomas replies. He lifts his gaze and sets it on Alastair, his eyes glimmering with an emotion Alastair can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why is it in a box?’

2—       ‘Your father won’t bite him,’ Sophie tells him, a shadow of an amused smile on her face. ‘I imagine he merely wants to get to know him better.’       Thomas shifts in his seat and glances once more at the open doorway Gideon and Alastair have just walked through.       ‘I know,’ he murmurs, ‘and for that, I’m so glad. Only, Alastair… I know he’s feeling nervous.’       ‘Whatever for, love?’       Smiling furtively, Thomas looks at his mother and says, ��He wants to make a good impression. He’s very conscious of his—how did he put it? “Prickly personality”.’

3—       Charlotte came into this marriage with the sole belief that he’ll fall in love with her in time. That no matter how long it took, she would see it through for the rest of their lives. Because she loves him, and love withstands the test of time no matter how hard a situation becomes.       Now… now, she’s not so sure.       Perhaps it’s time to realise that Henry will never love her.But she loves him. She can’t deny that, and she never could. She loves him, and she’ll live with that knowledge until she draws her last breath. But she doesn’t know how much longer she can keep her true feelings behind an alabaster mask of indifference, or hide her face in the pillow when Henry looks at her for too long, or press down the flutters her heart does whenever he does something silly, or makes a breakthrough with an experiment, or merely smiles at her.       And yet, perhaps all she can do is break her heart fully and accept that, like her position at the London Institute, her marriage to Henry isn’t something that can last forever. That perhaps love can’t withstand the test of time, after all.       That not even five years of being together could have Henry fall in love with her.

4—       ‘There’s no need to panic,’ Thomas says softly. ‘I’m right here, aren’t I? You’re safe.’       There’s a beat of silence after Alastair sucks in a shuddering breath, during which he stares at Thomas with wild, terrified eyes. Then an odd flutter crosses his face, his expressive eyebrows dipping dangerously close to the middle of his forehead.       ‘I’m—I’m safe?’ he splutters. ‘You think… you think—? Oh you… you stupid man.’       He grabs Thomas by the shoulders, not giving the man a chance to feel anything except confusion, and shakes him violently.       ‘It’s not myself I’m worried about,’ Alastair croaks out. ‘It’s you.’

to @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone:

      ‘The point I wish to make,’ Alastair interrupts, ‘is that during that picnic, Fairchild and I had a rather… frank conversation.’       ‘About?’       ‘As far as I recall, it had something to do with an autumnal masquerade ball up in Cambridge which promises to have formal attire, a range of posh sorts, and an abundance of alcohol.’       Thomas blinks in astonishment. ‘Cambridge?’ he echoes.       ‘Quite,’ Alastair says in a sombre tone, and Thomas laughs. ‘Yet… I suppose it would be a different venture than our usual nightly strolls and patrols.’       ‘It would,’ Thomas replies with a nod.       ‘And it would be rather dire to attend such an occasion without Fairchild’s opulent outfits and charming personality, but it does bring forth the opportunity to be alone with each other without the need to entertain a third party.’       ‘I wholeheartedly concur with that statement.’       Alastair is about to say something else, but stops himself. He instead purses his lips and narrows his eyes at Thomas. Thomas merely stares back expectantly, trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral. He knows what’s about to happen, and grins inwardly when, like clockwork, Alastair visibly withers.        ‘Are you really waiting for me to ask?’ he states in exasperation.       A large smile overtakes Thomas’s face at the question, and he leans in until their noses are mere inches apart. He relishes how Alastair’s eyes widen at the sudden proximity—always so full of surprise whenever Thomas does this—and quickly kisses him before he can protest or say anything.       ‘You refer to waiting for my beloved to ask me to attend a masquerade ball with him in Cambridge, correct?’ Thomas lowers his voice until it’s the softest whisper and says with utmost severity, ‘If so, then yes, I am.’

and last, but certainly not least, to @drunkonimagination:

      ‘Welcome home.’ Pulling back slightly, Thomas kisses Alastair’s curved mouth and presses their foreheads together. ‘Goodness—Raziel, have I missed you.’       There’s a soft snort, and long fingers brush over Thomas’s shoulders. Alastair’s voice is light as he says, ‘Last I checked, Thomas, I am not Raziel. Have I been gone so long that you mistake me for an archangel?’       ‘Yes, mi amor,’ Thomas replies playfully, ‘you’ve been gone far too long. You must remind me exactly who you are, and it must be done now. Before it is too late and I forget who you are completely.’       Alastair laughs loudly, and is still laughing when Thomas presses fast kisses all over his face.

also yes you read that correctly, it does say "pt. 1". pt. 2 will be posted sometime this weekend, and it'll be snippets from the remaining chapters of dear christopher and ch2 of timeless, so stay tuned if you're interested!!! :D

[latenuitrambles]

Are there any Jem girlies ( gender neutral) on tumblr idk why I started having some major TID brainrot and kinda wanna write some drabbles about Jem and will and honestly the whole cast. I love them <3. so if anyone wants to request!!! please do

[bytheangell]

What Matters

(Read on AO3, written for @malecdiscordserver By The Angel Bingo prompt: Royalty AU)

Tessa steps into the room, looking at the two men in front of her with so much fondness she knows it must be taking over every feature on her face. Thankfully, they’re too wrapped up in their own little worlds to notice her arrival. William and James are enjoying one another’s company in the drawing room, with Jem playing the violin softly and Will drifting in and out of near-sleep as he does, eyelids closing and opening with languid movements. These are the moments Tessa cherishes - the ones where the two of them are alone, or at least alone with her, and able to exist in one another’s presence in whatever intimate moments they choose. Sometimes it’s a warm embrace, and sometimes those moments also include Tessa, but other times it’s simply this - simply existing.

Jem’s playing comes to a stop, or at least a prolonged pause between pieces, and it’s only then that the two boys notice her arrival.

“Tess, my dear, how long have you been standing there?” Jem asks.

“Long enough to watch Will nearly fall asleep twice,” she replies with a small smile.

“I did not!” William replies indignantly, blinking the sleep away rapidly and doing his best to stifle the immediate yawn that tries to escape his lips.

“You started snoring once before Tessa even arrived,” Jem points out.

“James! Whose side are you on?!” Will demands, eyes narrowing without any true seriousness.

“The side of truth,” Jem replies without missing a beat, placing his violin down gingerly before sweeping across the room to take Tessa in his arms.

Tessa beams at the sight, noting that he must be having a particularly good day in regards to his chronic illness because there’s no falter in his steps, no hesitation in his touch. She knows better than to question the gift of a good day, which come few and far between lately, and laughs along with the movement of him grabbing hold of her and spinning her two steps into the room where Will waits, standing now, hand outstretched to grab her own in the hand-off from Jem.

It’s always like this between the three of them. Even on the bad days, the energy and understanding between the trio comes with such ease that Tessa often wonders if it’s too good to be true. Yet day after day, it proves true. Day after day their arrangement plays out in the public eye to flawless perfection, and their private lives are left to be whatever they make of them.

It’s easy to look back and see all the ways things could’ve gone wrong, and truly appreciate the way they played out instead.

Tessa’s forever grateful to have found them, and even more thankful that they welcomed her into their private lives so easily. It was just for show, at the beginning. Will and Jem wished to be together, but Jem was the heir to a throne, and coming of age to take full control of the kingdom his parents left behind in the wake of their untimely deaths. It wouldn’t do to be a King without a Queen, and it absolutely wouldn’t do to be a King with another King. At first, Tessa agreed to simply be there for show. She’d live in the palace, of course, and walk hand-in-hand with Jem in public and show off their betrothal to the world with beaming smiles, but that was to be all. She was simply a cover for her two friends to be happy together.

Until she developed feelings for both Jem and Will, and they for her, the more time she spent with them. She wasn’t certain, at first. Not certain enough to say anything and risk, well, everything. Not just everything between herself and Jem and herself and Will but between the two of them as well.

They were all uncertain, all afraid that acknowledging the truth of what their friendships were evolving into would ruin the already delicate balance of their situation, but after a time it became undeniable. It was obvious enough in the way they acted around each other that Will cared for Tessa, as did Jem, a love that was wildly different in some ways, but strikingly similar in so many others. But the care was there, underlying in every action, every word, and when they finally broached the subject it was obvious that Tessa was more important to both of them than a simple public face.

The evening they finally addressed the growing emotions between the three of them was a long, draining, but ultimately cathartic night for all of them, and it ended with an agreement: to at least give it a try. The ‘it’ in question being allowing themselves the chance to see if something, if anything, between the three of them could work. They were still worried, not that they had any reason to be - of course it would work, it already was working.

Almost nothing in their dynamics changed, with the exception of Tessa now sharing in some of the lingering touches, and then kisses, and then more. At the beginning it was always separated - Tessa would be with Will while Jem was off, or with Jem while Will had other engagements, and sometimes the two boys would go off on their own for hours before Tessa saw them again. But when they were together it was as if nothing changed. Everything simply became more, became better because there was no more hiding of smiles or longing glances or loving remarks.

Once the three of them became fully themselves, what already came so easily between them now felt as second-nature as breathing.

So when things evolved into the three of them becoming more intimate all together, not a single one of them seemed surprised by what was, at that point, a natural evolution.

Of course, prying eyes would not see things the same way. Tessa often imagined the scandal they would cause if anyone ever found out. Sometimes they ran through ‘what-if’ scenarios, partially out of excessive caution, more often because Will always finds a perverse pleasure out of imagining the faces of the other royals should the truth ever surface.

Tessa wouldn’t mind people knowing, of course, but there’s a particular sense of peace they hold now that she would sorely miss should it ever be lost.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Tessa?” Will asks.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, shrugging off the thoughts. “Just wondering if I may also be graced with a Jem Carstairs composition tonight. I do love a good lullabye,” she adds with a wink, causing Jem to laugh and Will to exclaim indignation once more.

So long as she never loses this, never loses them, nothing else matters.

[purplebass]

A Different Kind of Music - Wessa

Set a few months after Will and Tessa get married. So let's say 1880-1881. They are deciding how to renovate the ballroom of the Institute, but things take a different turn when they get creative. ;) This was inspired by the amazing hot art by the talented @/thorndale/elisial_art on tumblr/Instagram <;3 Warning: Mature

“This room is such a mess,” Will glared at the windows, where long drapes of red velvet hung on by a literal thread. “First thing we’ll change are these curtains, I don’t like red,” he flinched, as if red offended him for some reason. 

Tessa could only smile as they paced the ballroom together. She couldn’t believe it. Just a few months ago, they said their vows and they sealed their union. She was Tessa Herondale now, and even though not everybody saw it the same way, it didn’t matter to her. Only Will mattered, and the future they intended to build together in this place, which needed a little redecoration, according to him.

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[saintgoths]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

CHAPTER FOUR - PLIGHT ONE'S TROTH.

WORDS - 4,022.

RATING - 18+. [drinking and masturbation].

SUMMARY - A drunk Serena speaks to Will.

"I'm trying hard, Not to be ashamed, Not to know the name, Of who is waking up beside me, Or the date, the season or the city." My Alcoholic Friends featuring The Dresden Doll.

feedback would be appreciated! and i would like to say, this story is a will romance story, but i just want you to be aware that serena is a man-eater...

i also cross-post this fic on wattpad and ao3.

previous chapter - chapter three.

Serena had hated that she had felt at odds that Will and Tessa were on a mission together, the De Quincey mission, was what Serena had been informed of. She had spent her day with Charlotte, speaking about her family and the structure of the main houses of Venus, the main houses who take part in the Court of Aphrodite.

“All houses are important to the Court, but there’s the main five houses, each house have symbols that relate to Aphrodite, House Venrosa have the rose as our symbol, House Sapphire the mirror, House Laurent the dove, House Salvatore the pomegranate and House Raye has the golden apple,” Serena said.

“And all houses have their own quote, my houses quote being as beautiful as dangerous,” she dryly laughed. “How ironic that quote is since I’m the only one from House Venrosa left.”

Benign, Charlotte had sipped her tea, curious of the system in Venus. “What are the quotes for the other houses?” Charlotte asked and slightly content that she had been able to speak about her connection to Venus, Serena had flatly smiled.

“House Sapphire, as fire we bring ashes, House Laurent, those who have the gold, House Salvatore, decades we came, decades we stay and House Raye, we hunt those who hunt us.”

Impressed, Charlotte raised both of her eyebrows. “A powerful system,” she muttered. “A whole ‘nother verse, that most of the Shadowhunters of the Mortal Realm don’t know about. It’s a peculiar feeling of how other-worldly beings know of our existence, but we barely know of theirs.”

“Other beings,” Serena hummed, “Shadowhunters are in Venus as well, so it should give you a better feeling.” Though, you were sure Charlotte had known that, since her connection with Lady Evaline, Serena had also wondered what Evaline had done for Charlotte, to have the Branwell woman persistent to having her stay.

“Did you find a lead?” Charlotte then asked and while she fiddled with the small arm of the tea cup she had held, Serena looked up at the brown-haired woman.

Serena had then shrugged. “I can only get a lead if I return back to Venus, though Lady Evaline forbids me from going there for the moment, so all I can do is sit and rely what people from the court say,” she expressed, suddenly feeling a motion of wary. “Though I feel like I can barely trust any of them.”

“They’re also in your ear telling you that you cannot trust any of us in this institute,” Charlotte added and apprehensive, Serena played with her fingers. “How do your powers work?” Charlotte curiously asked, helping herself by pulling herself closer to Serena.

“They’re not like Warlock powers, but Venusian magic does rely on chaos gifted by Aphrodite,” Serena said.

“Do you know why Aphrodite gifted specific people Venusian Powers?” Charlotte asked.

As she bounced her shoulders, Serena returned her hands to her lap. “Perhaps it was to show gratefulness to our faith, especially since my family were known to have Venusian Spirits the most in our line, though the first Venusian Spirits belonged to the Raye family, well allegedly. Though, House Raye only had them twice or thrice.”

“We say some spells and Aphrodite grants it to us,” Serena explained, “not all Venusian Spirits are the same though, some are stronger than the other, and some find power within themselves and don’t need Aphrodite to grant them access to it.”

“Do you have power within yourself?” Charlotte asked and unsure, Serena played with her fingers.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Just like I don’t know if I have my own unique power like every other Venusian Spirit.”

Awkward, Charlotte put her tea-cup down. “This entire circumstance, I’ll have to tell Henry soon,” she confessed and aware of the hesitant look on Serena’s face the brunette woman had sat up. “I am not entirely the leader of the London Institute,” she explained. “I’m a woman, the proper leader is still my husband.”

Sympathetic, Serena gently sighed. “There’ll be a moment where you’ll have to tell the Clave too.”

“The Venusian Spirit have no responsibilities to the Clave,” Charlotte replied. “Venusians themselves. If the Clave find out about you, you can be put in grave danger.”

“Sometimes there’s moments in life where we have to push through moments like this,” Serena responded and before she could communicate more, a loud alarm that had alerted the both of them had Charlotte jump to her feet.

“Apologies,” Charlotte quickly muttered. “I’m needed,” she said and with one more look to Serena, Lady Branwell left the room.

♡⊹˚₊ ❦ ❀ ₊˚⊹♡

Myrtles and Doves, a Venusian Pub hidden in London, Davidson had told her about after their intimate action they had shared in the temporary Court of Aphrodite, she had wondered how a Venusian Pub could exist in the Mortal Realm but she shrugged it off and considered it might’ve involved the divine and intricate powers of a Venusian Spirit. Serena wasn’t much of a drinker but her father, Pietro loved to.

He loved drinking the Black Russian, it was strong and when Serena first sipped it, she had almost gagged, but the Venrosa girl had attempted to not spill the alcoholic beverage on her gown, the current colour she had worn was light purple, she had people wonder where she had the money to have many dresses in this colour, and others had complimented how her dress exalted and flattered her skin and eyes, differently to women in the Mortal Realm, Serena had worn her curly hair down, women from Venus had passed the era where society was strict about how hair could be worn.

Plus, it wasn’t like people in Myrtles and Doves were going to look down at how she presented herself, since they had come from the Realm of Venus themselves.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” pushing Serena out of her chain of thought, Serena had turned to the owner of the voice, Loras Laurent. His calm figure bringing a smirk to the young girl.

“I just lost my family,” Serena said as a reminder, “so you finding me in a bar drinking myself to a temporary death is a surprise to you?” She asked and with a smile on his face, Loras sat next to the dark-haired girl.

“Go light with it,” he warned and with a swift look towards his direction, Serena placed her drink down.

Herself curious to why Loras had brought himself here. “Why are you in Myrtles and Doves?” She asked, “Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the Shadowhunters, going after De Quincey?”

“Something was telling me to stay back,” he responded and with a humoured eye, Serena continued to drink. “Tab on me,” Loras muttered to the bartender and flattered, the Venrosa woman sat up on her seat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

“I just did,” he countered as he shrugged his shoulders. “The world should be free for you,” and with the roll of her eyes, Serena focused her gaze on the melting ice in her small glass cup while Loras tasked himself to order himself a drink.

“You think I deserve the world?” Serena asked and honest, Loras looked at her.

“I believe you deserve the universe,” he smiled.

Complimented, Serena leaned herself against him, aware that the strength of the drink had kicked in her. As much of a sorrowful emotion the young woman had felt, there was still a depressed smile on her face. “My family deserved more than I ever did,” she said and empathetic, Loras gently stroked her hair, aware that it would be him that’ll have to take her back to the institute.

♡⊹˚₊ ❦ ❀ ₊˚⊹♡

Serena hadn’t been embarrassed how unkept she must’ve looked the minute she stepped out of the carriage, Loras had been behind her, in quick attempt to walk Serena down the little steps but the Venrosa woman had been fast on her feet, her curly hair framing her face and cheeks rosy due to the alcohol intake.

Loras had wanted Serena to hold back with her drinking but the girl had been stubborn, and due to her being a Venusian Spirit, she was stronger than him. On the other hand, it had appeared that there had been a couple of carriages that had entered the Institute Grounds so her presence wasn’t noticed, yet.

“Why is he here?” She heard, and Serena turned around to see Will approaching with Jem beside him, Will’s face curious and crude in response to the Laurent’s man appearance. Though the moment he saw how Loras snaked his arm around Serena’s waist----Serena who had now seemed like her figure had known gravity had almost stumbled.

“Ah,” Jem hummed once he noticed Serena’s circumstance.

“I didn’t even know women can drink as much as this,” Loras said.

“I’m not drunk,” Serena slurred and with a mischievous glint, Will smiled.

As he stood up straight, the Herondale man shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh really?” He began. “Stand up straight without the help of Loras.”

Accepting the challenge, Serena had attempted to pull away from Loras, who had quickly darted a rude look towards Will who had prepared to laugh. “No matter the situation, you always find a way to be unpleasant,” Loras said.

“I think it’s best she gets inside,” Jem added.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Serena snorted before sending them a weird look. “I can handle myself, because I’m a Ve---”

“Will get her inside!” Loras interjected, thankful that he had been able to interrupt Serena before she exposed her true identity.

With a short glance, Jem and Will looked at each other. “There’s a situation going on inside in the institute,” Jem clarified and with a low click of his tongue, Loras had remembered the situation involving Nathaniel Gray, the brother of Tessa.

“The mission went to plan?” Loras asked.

“Yes,” Jem responded and with a quick look at Serena’s way, Will pulled his hand out of his pockets as he had then taken a step towards her.

“I’ll take her to her room,” he said, aware of the unsure look Loras sent his way. “I’m not as unpleasant you think I am,” Will hummed.

“I know Will would do nothing to her,” Jem frowned and with a hint of relief, Loras had gently passed a tired Serena towards Will, and before Loras had left the compound, he had pulled out a letter for Serena and passed it onto the drowsy woman who had protectively clenched the material.

Even in her condition, she had looked stunning, though with the drunk persona she had currently carried, the three men understood she had not been in the position to hold something like a letter. “I was supposed to give it to her for her to read, but evidently she’s not in the condition to read it now.”

“I’ll remind her to,” Will said before taking her into the institute, passing the Silent Brothers who had tended to Nathaniel Gray, the Silent Brothers who had also then taken notice of the Venusian Girl, her immense power had alerted them of her presence and also making them aware what she was, yet they didn’t comment on it.

As Will had aided Serena into her room, he had taken notice of all her unfinished paintings of her family. “What pretty compositions,” he sarcastically commented before helping Serena sit on her bed.

“You should leave if you’re going to be like this,” Serena said.

“I’ll let you off for the day,” Will replied and as kickback, Serena gently smiled.

As she used her arms to assist herself from sitting up, her long hair had draped over her exposed shoulders, eyes sultry and veiled with effects of ethanol, and so were her cheeks, moreover, Will couldn’t help but consider Serena to look like one of those scorching paintings. “Give me the letter,” Serena said, eyes fixed on the article in his hand.

While he closed the bedroom door behind him, Serena gathered the energy left in her to sit up properly on her cot. “Please give me the letter,” she repeated, a short energy of fear transporting inside of her, fearful that the letter contained what she was. Though, stubborn, Will had opened the letter, curious to see what was inside.

“Dear Serena Venrosa, for years you have understood how I felt about you, and I understand that you might not feel the same way for me, but this is an era, where you’ll need protection and the Shadowhunters you remain with, will not be of help. Especially because they do not know what you are, a fantastic being, vulnerable and too precious to be left alone with them. Serena, if you take the honour to take my last name, you’ll receive the assist, safeguard, the love and jewels you deserve. I’ll wait for you response, patiently, but remember we don’t know how long it’ll be until they attempt their second strike and hunt you again, your sincerely, Loras Laurent.”

Will couldn’t help himself but breathe out in laughter as he then fixed his sight towards Serena who had been a bit embarrassed. Unresponsive to what Will had read out. “The Clave will begin to question Charlotte if she is going to continue bringing Downworlders here.”

“I’m not a Downworlder,” Serena seethed as she snatched the opened letter from him. “It was rude of you to read from something so private.”

“Well, will you?” Will inquired, as he crossed his arms.

“Will what?” She asked.

Crossing her arms as well, the two beings stared at each other, both their eyes carrying an essence of challenge. “If you’re going to accept the marriage proposal,” he responded and briefly, Serena placed the letter against her chest as she had hastily thought about it.

With a shrug, Serena placed the letter on her bed.

“Do you think the London Institute isn’t a safe space for you?” He asked.

“The only unsafe thing about the London Institute is the fact that you’re not walking around with chains,” Serena gritted which had emitted a laugh from Will.

He had leaned against one of her bedroom walls, eyes focused on the paintings that had been scattered in the atmosphere. “What happened?” He asked and with a swift look towards his direction, Serena pressed her lips into a thin line, not wanting the share the disaster of the night.

“I would tell you, but I fear you might make a joke about it,” Serena replied.

As he had changed his position to her bed, Will shared the long-haired girl a calm smile. “I promise I won’t.”

Unmoved, Serena had then moved Loras’ letter to her bedside table. “You’re in a mood for questions today,” the Venrosa woman hummed. “Is this what Tessa has to put up with?”

With a quick snort, Will leaned his back against her bed. “Am I hearing jealousy?”

“I’m more jealous of the time Tessa doesn’t have with you,” Serena answered.

With a twisted face, Will pulled himself to his feet. “Fine,” he huffed. “When you finally decide to tell me the truth,” he stated while making way to her bedroom door. “You know where to find me,” he smiled.

“In the pits of Hell?” Serena asked causing the dark-haired boy to burst into laughter as he exited her room.

♡⊹˚₊ ❦ ❀ ₊˚⊹♡

“Serena!”

“Serena!”

“Serena, help!”

Frustrated, Serena picked up on her feet, as she pushed and barged through people, the young girl had hastily paced towards her home, her once beautiful home now sunk within the flames that had captured her family, stubborn, Serena had raced into her home, feeling the warmth of the flames kissing through her clothes and skin but unburnt, the girl progressed.

“I’m on my way!” Serena cried out, “I’ll get you all out!” She said before spreading both her arms out, her magic channelling in her hands, her paws glowing her purple chaos that had wrapped around her home lifting up the fallen equity and acres while quickly extinguishing the fire.

“Serena!” The voices of her family cried out, what she has done, wasn’t enough, it had begun all over again.

Stressed, Serena placed her hands against her head. Panicked before she returned to do the same thing, to do anything to save her family.

“Serena!” A voice called out and distressed, Serena turned to seek out where the voice had come from, she had noted it sounded nothing like any of her family members, but she recognised it. “Serena!” The voice called out once more.

“Will?” Serena whispered, confused on why he had been here. He shouldn’t be here.

Yet, there was a commodity from Serena that had wanted Will to stay here, by remaining next to her, Serena could feel her anxiety begin to lift. “Everything is okay,” Will tells her but exasperated, Serena looked around.

“No, no it’s not!” She responded, resentful to his oblivious demeanour to the point that she had almost verbally fought him, but the girl had been taken by surprise when she had felt the dark-haired boy bring her into a hug, thus, no matter how irate she had felt, the red feeling had immediately withered when his strong limbs curved around her.

She had felt the intense disturbed commodity in her fly away as she had then been brought into a pool of relief, making her forget what had been around her, making what had been around her disappear into a white abyss, as she had then been taken to a river of pleasure, her lips being meld into his fine and warmth opening, their pleasurable adventure being curved into a rhythm of lethal erotica.

Serena had gasped the moment she had felt his fingers slip between her hearth, his steady and long digits playing with the swollen pearl, the bud slipping between his two fingers and teasingly playing with her button as she had pleasurably cried against his chest. “Will!” She cried out as she desperately clung onto him.

It had just been the two of them together, standing in the light abyss that had influenced and added onto their lake of lust, gently, Will had hushed her, gently stroked his fingers further up her opening, his two digits comfortably sliding inside of her, feathering and kissing the inside of her sex with his texture, “I’m going to make you feel good,” he whispered and diligent to his touch, Serena nodded against his physique, another moan of crave echoing from her mouth when she had felt another caress rub against the soft walls of her cunt.

“Serena!” She heard Will call out and just by the sound of his voice, the dark-haired girl felt herself release around his fingers, the tightness of her area cramped around his digits while her juices caked and mounted around them, “Serena!” The voice called once more, and the tone and sound was different than Will’s, thus alert, Serena had understood the area she had currently been in was different than the white abyss she previously found herself.

She was now in her room, and the voice that had continued to call out her name from behind her door had appeared to belong to Sophie. “Fuck,” Serena lightly cursed as she could feel a stain below her legs, with her hand now away from her vagina, she identified that she must’ve orgasmed due to her erotic dream.

With her sheets above her chest, Serena looked at her door. “Come in!” She squeaked and after that, Sophie had entered the room, with a tray of sandwiches and tea. “Oh Sophie, hey,” Serena kindly greeted. “Thank you for the food.”

“I was told it was Will who had led you back to your room, heard you was drunk,” Sophie said as she put down the tray and made way to the curtains.

“Well, that happened,” Serena nodded, hastily aware of the look Sophie had sent her way. “We didn’t do anything,” Serena cleared and reassured, Sophie turned her sight back to the curtains.

“I was surprised he was able to help you to your room, especially in his state. He drank some of De Quincey’s blood,” Sophie hummed and as Serena sat up, she had grabbed some of the food Sophie had brought her.

“Poor him,” Serena dryly muttered.

Adamant, Sophie turned to look at Serena once more. “Will isn’t someone you should care for,” she reminded and with a silent look, Serena levelled the fare to her lips, Serena was sure that she hadn’t shown a hint of care in her voice, but perhaps Sophie knew something. Serena wondered if Sophie had heard her moan for Will’s name while she had dreamt.

“I don’t,” Serena breathed out.

“Good,” Sophie replied and relieved, Sophie had nodded her head towards Serena before she left.

♡⊹˚₊ ❦ ❀ ₊˚⊹♡

Ever since Serena had gotten ready for today, she had noticed she hadn’t seen anything of Will the second she stepped out of her room. Currently, she had been in the drawing room where Jessamine showed her appearance, stepping into the area with a judgemental look on her face, but with one look of Serena’s dress, she placed her hands on her hips. “Nice dress,” she said and with a short response, Serena thanked her.

Though, it had appeared Jessamine seemed to care not much about Serena’s dress as much as she had thought, as she turned her sight towards Sophie which held a light sneer. “Everyone is being mean to him,” Jessamine snapped and confused, Serena furrowed both of her eyebrows, confused on who she had meant. “Tessa’s brother,” she drawled. “No one is communicating to him, but, me.”

“Isn’t he unconscious?” Serena asked which had the blonde girl send her a nasty look. “Do you want me to give him company?” She sighed and with a thoughtful look, Jessamine pressed her lips into a thin line, as if she was almost against the idea.

“I’d rather you not,” Jessamine answered. “Is Tessa in her room?” Jessamine asked.

“Yes,” Serena replied and within a second, Jessamine had lifted her feet out of the Drawing Room, leaving Serena to continue her embroidery, which had been a skill and hobby her mother loved to do.

Her mother Selene used to love fashion and embroidery, and every time Serena had dug the needle into the fabric, she had wished she had worn one of her mother’s pieces one last time. Her mother always had plans to open a boutique in Venus, but alas, it had been too late.

Too infatuated with what she had been doing, Serena had not noticed that Sophie had left the room, thus her return had briskly alarmed her. Though, as she returned to her fine figure, she had noticed that Sophie had a box in her hand. With an inquiring look on her face, Sophie walked towards Serena, “Something came in for you,” Sophie had said and intrigued, Serena had put down her embroidery tools and had taken the model from Sophie’s hand.

“Thank you,” Serena curiously muttered, as she had safely unboxed and unwrapped the commodities that had been stuffed in the small area, Serena had slowly pulled out the item that had been properly wrapped and kept in the box and once the object had been revealed, Sophie let out a soft gasp at the beautiful item Serena dangled in her hand.

It had been a necklace, and softly, Serena placed it in her other palm. “It’s beautiful,” Sophie said while the unsure look on Serena’s face had been unnoticed, Serena had hesitantly smiled at the maid.

“It is, isn’t it?” Serena hummed.

“It didn’t say where it came from, it just said it was for you,” Sophie shared. “At first, I wasn’t sure to bring it in because of the lack of details, though, my intuition said otherwise,” and after she had spoken, Sophie had flatly stood on her feet ere she patted the dust off her knees, and with a light breathe in, Serena forced another smile before she placed the necklace back in.

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