#tweety.writes

[luciehercndale]

For @celias <3

Jace and Mina and Tessa + memories

Mina was on the floor and Jace was ticking her, and she was enjoying herself so much that it made Tessa smile, because the remainder of her family was together, and they were making an effort to getting to know each other.

Jace had started to show up at Cirenworth more in the last few months, and this had filled Tessa’s heart with even more love and joy, but it also reminded her of a past long gone, and of people who had been dead for decades and whom she missed everyday.

Soon, Tessa’s eyes became blurry with tears when she remembered another house, another city, and two other children playing on the floor.

In the past it was Lucie who tickled James and he ran away from her, hiding behind her legs and crying because he didn’t want to play. But soon, it was Lucie who didn’t want to be tickled anymore and James who found it funny to tickle her.

She would keep these old memories in her heart forever.

Tessa and Gabriel's friendship + forgiveness

Tessa still couldn’t believe what had happened a few days before, and the more she thought of it, the more she felt she had played a role in how things had gone down.

But she couldn’t change the past, nobody could, and thus she could only try to bear with the grief and apologize to the ones she believed she had indirectly wronged because of her relation to that demon.

“Can you forgive me, Gabriel?” Tessa asked her brother in law, who had also become her friend throughout the years, and whom had just lost a son.

“You don’t need my forgiveness, Tessa, but I understand why you might be asking for it,” he replied sincerely, “but if you need me to forgive you, then I will.”

Tessa still couldn’t believe she deserved his forgiveness, but she decided to believe she did.

[tweetybreatheswords]

Hello! You're really gifted, I love your writing! I'm not sure if it works this way, but I'm craving for a combination of Thomastair "You're burning up" and "I can't do anything right" prompts. Thank you! 👉👈

Hi! Sorry for the delay, you sent me this in 2020 and I could just reply now. Hope this one is what you expect! It contains Chain of Iron Spoilers, so I advise you to read it only if you’ve read the book.

Couple/Characters: Thomastair, Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs Rating: T Words: 1391

Thomas was ecstatic to be alone, but he had to admit that he was a little intimidated. The killer had been caught, that much was true, but it didn’t mean that the streets of London couldn’t harbor more dangers. He still had to keep his guard up, and be vigil. You never knew what you could find around the corner. Thomas was alert. His hand went on the hilt of the knife by his belt when he heard footsteps. It was probably a mundane, despite the hour, but one could never be sure.

The noise disappeared as it came, and he sighed. Thinking about that reminded him about him. He was patrolling because he didn’t want to think about what had happened in the sanctuary. He had loved every second of it, but then Alastair had decided for him and didn’t give them a chance. Thomas was angry, but not at Alastair. His anger was not directed at the beautiful man with eyes the color of opal, but at himself. He wished he had told him then, that he didn’t agree. That he didn’t care what other people thought, he wanted to be with him.

Thomas squeezed his hands, and kicked at a stone nearby. He would gladly punch the wall, but he knew better than to do that. He felt helpless, and he didn’t know what to do. He believed that it was already important that he had been forward with Alastair, but that he had also let too much precious time pass. And now… now he missed him. He never realized that Alastair had been following him in order to keep him safe during his lonely patrol. If things had been different…

He stopped abruptly, and turned. He was sure that someone was behind him. He heard uneven steps, as if whoever was walking behind him was stumbling, and then a cough. Perhaps it was really a demon. People didn’t usually walk around in the dead of the night, unless they were shadowhunters. Or they didn’t have better things to do.

“You,” he said.

Alastair staggered as he walked, keeping his hand to the wall. His face fell when Thomas acknowledged him. “You,” he answered back, coughing. “Never learn.”

Thomas wanted to argue, and say that it wasn’t his business how he decided to conduct his life. He had, after all, decided that he didn’t want to be in it. But he didn’t. He reached Alastair, who was unable to stand still. He barely glanced at Thomas, and he looked like he would faint any minute.

“Alastair joon,” he said with urgence, worry etching his voice. “Are you hurt?”

Alastair gazed up at Thomas, who was towering over him like a marble statue. Imposing, but welcoming. A piece of art to stare at, that you longed to touch but remembered you could not. It wasn’t possible. He was frowning. “I’m completely, utterly,” he whimpered, “fine.”

Thomas couldn’t help but sigh. How long was he going to tell him lies? Because he didn’t believe that he had been honest, the last time they saw each other after the fight at the Institute. He didn’t care what he would think of him. His hand couldn’t help but reach Alastair’s neck, then his cheek. His thumb lingered on the side of his jaw for longer than he had intended, but he couldn’t withdraw his hand. He saw the way Alastair was trying to make him believe all of this didn’t bother him. And he knew better.

“Keep telling that to yourself,” he answered coolly, grabbing Alastair and placing his arm behind his back, his hand secured on his hip so he wouldn’t fall.

Alastair tried to protest and disentangle himself from Thomas’ grasp, but he didn’t let him. And the truth was that he didn’t want to. “Where are we going,” he asked faintly, as Thomas helped him stand as they walked.

“To my flat,” Thomas replied. “It is closer to this street,” he explained casually. “And you need to lie down.”

“You could just drop me home, and don’t bother, Tom.”

“No,” Thomas answered sharply, indicating that he would not argue with him over this. That stunned Alastair to silence.

No one spoke for the rest of the way to Thomas’ flat. He could feel that Alastair wasn’t feeling good, because he hadn’t bitten back any retort after he firmly stated where they were going. Thomas hoped this wasn’t going to be a train wreck, because his heart was already shattered as it was, but he couldn’t help it. I’m only doing it because he’s ill, he told himself.

They crossed the threshold, and he helped Alastair on the armchair by the small grate. He would light up the fire soon, but he wanted to check on him first. He took his coat off and placed it on the other armchair. Alastair had closed his eyes, apparently sleeping. Thomas crossed the room and got to him. He touched his forehead with the back of his hand.

“You’re burning up,” Thomas murmured with concern, and went to the kitchen to fetch a cold towel before the other could say anything, and placed it on his forehead with care.

“Thomas,” Alastair said. “Thomas, stop.”

“You’ll never get someone else help you, won’t you,” Thomas sighed in frustration, touching Alastair’s cheeks with his hand. He wasn’t just trying to make his temperature go down with his cold hands. He had longed to touch Alastair’s face, and would use this occasion to do it. Who knew when –

“Your hands are too cold, by the angel!” Alastair exclaimed, surprising Thomas.

He stopped, realizing that he probably exaggerated. “I’m sorry,” he said honestly, but he could tell Alastair was not mad. He managed a smile.

“What are you sorry for? I’m the one down with,” he coughed. “A fever.”

“Did you know that you got a cold?” Thomas wondered, bewildered. He wouldn’t get mad. He wouldn’t.

Alastair sighed. “I figured as much when I started staggering after you,” he admitted, glancing away.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I wasn’t following you,” he retorted. Thomas raised an eyebrow. “I can’t do anything right,” he said after a while. He looked defeated. Tired. Guilty. And he didn’t want him to feel like that.

“That’s bollocks, and you know it,” he said gravelly.

“I don’t know anything anymore, Tom,” he replied, and his heart broke again. For him.  

“Then let me remind you,” Thomas offered, barely registering the shock on Alastair face as he knelt down on the carpet and grabbed his face to give him a kiss that was not so chaste.

Alastair was burning. Literally and figuratively. Thomas knew that he shouldn’t do that, that he shouldn’t kiss Alastair with such ferment when he was sick. He was aware that he’d get hotter, but he couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t control his hands as they grabbed Alastair’s silky hair, and then clung to the back of his neck, of his shoulders. He didn’t care that he’d probably come down with the flu too. In that moment, they were the only thing that mattered in his private space.

“Thomas,” Alastair chided, out of breath, their foreheads touching. They were scorching hot.

“You can’t decide for me, Alastair. You can’t,” he muttered softly, desperately. “I don’t care what anybody says about me and you. About us,” he said, staring in Alastair’s black eyes to make the point get to him. “They’ll have to deal with it. Everyone will have to deal with it. And if they don’t,” he paused, “then it’s their problem.”

Alastair’s eyes widened. No one had stood up for him like that before. “Your friends are important for you.”

“And I know that I’m important for them,” he replied confidently. “You are also important to me,” he revealed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Is that right,” Alastair wondered quietly, meeting Thomas’ eyes.

“Love is never wrong.”

Alastair stared at the man with whom he thought he didn’t have any future anymore, unable to say anything coherent. Thomas waited expectantly, with bright eyes. Alastair realized in that instant that he didn’t have to say anything, that actions spoke louder than words. So, he kissed Thomas, who understood the magnitude of that gesture. Alastair had just given him access to his heart, and he wouldn’t chance to lose it.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucinda @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca @autumnangel20 @cordelia-cardale

[luciehercndale]

I really love your Ghostwriter fics! Is there any chance I could request a mildly spicy fic of Lucie and Jesse’s wedding night? No pressure if you don’t want to. I know a lot of people think they’re too innocent and youthful for that sort of thing, even as adults, but personally I think that being physical would be an important part of their relationship given how Jesse was literally semi-corporeal for most of the story.

Alrighty, anon. It took me a while (you sent this ask on October 2 lol) but finally, after almost two months and half, I am here with what you asked for. So this is my take on Lucie and Jesse's wedding night, which is something I see happening 5-6 years after canon.

I wrote two versions because I wanted to make it as accessible to people who don't like E-rated things. The E-rated fic is from Lucie's POV, whereas the M-rated (I swear it's cleaner than it seems) is from Jesse's POV. I think this story took me a while to write because they are so dear to me and I wanted to write it as realistically as possible. And... here it is. I hope you like it 💜🥺

PG/M Version (Jesse's POV)

E Version (Lucie's POV)

[luciehercndale]

Would you write for Rhy and Alucard?

I was thinking "scars" (Alucard's specifically) for the 5 sentence prompt.

It is a bit hurt/comfort, I hope you don't mind :)

Alucard couldn’t remember how long he had been staring at his and Rhy’s portrait on the wall until he appeared behind him and said: “You know that, um, you can come look for me if you’re missing me?”

“Sure,” he replied, but he barely smiled, and Rhy ran his fingers on the scars on his cheek, a painful reminder of what they had both gone through, and wondered what was troubling him.

“I wish I could have saved her – my sister. She would’ve stayed here with us today, and grew up a beautiful and well-mannered young lady. If only I…” he let the sentence hanging, but Rhy understood what he was implying, and he felt for Alucard even more.

He could have told him many things, but he just kissed his cheek, and then his lips, hoping he knew how loved he was, and that it wasn’t his fault that his sister hadn’t made it, and that he had done everything he could have in order to save her, but unfortunately it didn’t work out.

Rhy enveloped his partner in an embrace, and Alucard buried his head in his shoulder, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic about it

[luciehercndale]

Oh, and a word for Thomastair: Um,,, pearl!

This is part of another longer fic idea I've had in mind for weeks where Thomas and Alastair go to Italy. After we met yesterday, I just knew that I had to use this for the prompt you asked :)

Thomas had never been on an actual beach before, so the day after he and Alastair arrived in Italy, the first thing they did was packing their bags with towels and food and go swimming in the bright blue Mediterranean sea.

They were walking on the shore when something picked Thomas’ interest and he couldn’t help but taking it in his hands to inspect it. “Look what I found,” he said to a curious Alastair, “it looks like an oyster.”

Alastair didn’t know much about seashells, but he believed that Thomas could be right. “It is really interesting,” he commented.

“There is no pearl inside,” Thomas said with disappointment after opening it, not really sure what he was expecting inside the shell.

“You are a pearl, hamsaram,” Alastair said, and that was enough to make Thomas forget about the oyster altogether.

[luciehercndale]

Happy Birthday @alastairstom !!!🎂💜

I wrote you a little something involving some of your favorite blorbos doing something together and I hope you like it 💜💜💜

“Be quiet, Matthew,” Alastair whispered. “Thomas is asleep.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to be quiet when I have to stir the dough?”

“Use a quietude rune like I did,” he replied. “I can’t risk him waking up because I’m crushing nuts.”

“He won’t,” he said, and applied the soundless rune on his forearm. “He is a heavy sleeper. He told me as much.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Thomas could sleep through thunderstorms. “How much time do we need to bake this?”

“Mother’s recipe says sixty minutes,” Matthew glanced at the clock. “Which means we need to put it in the oven in five minutes or you can’t give it to him for breakfast.”

“By the Angel,” Alastair cursed. “Why must nuts be so hard to crush?”

“Cut them into bigger pieces.”

“Thomas doesn’t like big pieces.”

“Why must you be a tough nut to crack, Carstairs?”

“Math –” he looked at the door, trying to hear any sound coming from upstairs. “Stir the dough. We are running out of time.”

“You crush the nuts.”

Alastair frowned at Matthew but didn’t say anything. They didn’t talk much while they waited for the pie to bake, in case Thomas could hear them. Matthew also dozed off on the chair by the table. Not that Alastair needed him anymore at this point, but he wouldn’t just ask him to leave yet. For some reason, he needed moral support until the pie was ready and he knew it was as he expected it to be.

“It looks good from the outside,” Matthew commented a little before seven in the morning. They had just taken the pie out of the oven. “I wonder how it tastes.”

“I am afraid I can’t offer you a slice,” Alastair quickly said. “Can I offer you something else, instead?”

“No, but thank you, Carstairs,” he grinned. “If you don’t need my help anymore, I think I should go. Wouldn’t want Tom to find me here and ruin the surprise.”

“Next time, then.”

Alastair followed him to the foyer where he took his coat from the rack and put it on. 

“I’m sure the pie is good,” Matthew said. “He will love it. He loves nuts. And he loved my mother’s pie every time he ate it.”

“Thank you for helping me on such a short notice,” Alastair said. “And at night. I was quite desperate.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “That’s what friends do, right?”

“Right,” he managed a smile. 

“Good luck,” he said. “I’ll wish happy birthday to Thomas later. Goodbye, Alastair.”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

Alastair sighed. It was time. He went to the kitchen to retrieve the pie and climbed the stairs one at a time. He didn’t want Thomas to hear him but he also didn’t want to slip accidentally and fall and throw the pie he had spent so much time preparing on the wooden floor.

The door was open, just like they liked to leave it. This was their house and they had their privacy. They wanted to live their love out in the open here. They wanted to be free.

Thomas stirred in bed and the first thing he saw was Alastair carrying the cake. 

“You didn’t,” he muttered, his voice sleepy. “You are nuts.”

“About you? I’m quite certain I am,” Alastair offered him a loving smile and sat next to him on the bed. “Happy birthday, hamsaram.”

“Is it…?” he wondered, and he nodded. “You are completely nuts. Put the pie on the nightstand so I can properly kiss you, khoshgelam.”

Alastair did as he was told and kissed his partner vehemently. “Asheghetam,” he said once they stopped, both out of breath. 

“Asheghetam,” echoed Thomas. 

And then they ate the cake.

[luciehercndale]

Some Kellila angst/hurt/comfort with a happy ending for you <3 (Read the opening notes for the tw)

Set Post-ACOL and before Threads. Lila and Kell stop in a little sea town for supplies, and he is feeling down because of his magic.

[luciehercndale]

kellila & chilli!!

When I first read the prompt, I imagined a funnier story (which I have put in my inspo doc so I may write it in the future). But then I had the idea of researching chili on wiki and the rest is history lmao so this story turned out a little angsty but it has a good ending so I hope you like this! :)

Lila had seen the plant with the yellow and red fruits that looked like deflated strawberries and had decided to try one even though Kell had kept repeating that she shouldn’t eat something if she didn’t know what it was, and that it could be poisonous.

“What’s the worst that can happen? A stomachache?” she had laughed then, but after ingesting just one fruit, her mouth was on fire, she was short of breath, and she started to sweat even though the weather was not that warm.

She felt like crap, but she tried to pretend that she was fine, until her legs gave out and she saw black, and the last words she heard were as hasari.

“Saints, Lila,” were the first words she heard when she opened her eyes again to a grumpy Kell staring at her from above, one of his hands checking the side of her neck, realizing with shock that she was on the ground. “If I hadn’t been here –” he stopped himself from uttering the words out loud, and hugged her body to his, and she could feel his pounding heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his coat, and she really meant it.

[luciehercndale]

kell & lila & ‘glacial’ 👀 (pretty please <3)

There were a lot of possibilities here but I went with a scenario I often think about and that I would love to see... Kellila in the snow/somewhere glacial (to stay on topic) once again🥺

Lila threw the first ball of snow and hit Kell right on the nose, and he returned the favor, starting their playful war among the ice.

“You are going down,” she told him with a smirk, and he just laughed at her – none of them wanted to lose.

Lila got closer and Kell lost his balance, and she was about to push him down when he beat her to it, but they slipped on the snow hugging each other, tumbled down a small slope which none of them had anticipated, and she landed on the top of him.

“I won,” she declared proudly to him, who had purposely landed with his back on the glacial snow to break her fall, but he rolled his eyes and said: “You’re just lucky.”

“Let’s do it again?” she wondered, and Kell couldn’t say no.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic about it

[luciehercndale]

This was supposed to be posted on Valentine's Day, but I am a little busy/burned out so I'm taking my time. Thomastair in their 40's being silly and playful and in love <3 Thomas wants to write a love letter to Alastair.

Rating: G

Hamsaram, this year will be our twentieth Valentine’s Day together, and I  –

Thomas heard the footsteps coming from the first floor, and dropped his fountain pen on the piece of paper in front of him. The ink splattered all over the white, and washed away the words he had typed. He sighed, but there was nothing to do to save the few lines anymore.

“Tom?”

“Yes?” He looked up from his desk, and grinned at his handsome husband. 

Alastair’s eyes went on the paper in front of him, and Thomas was grateful that the pen had ruined it. “Are you working?”

“No, I was just,” he paused, “writing down the things we need to buy for the house.”

“Well, it looks like you’ll have to do that again,” he said. “Do remember the shaving soap, jegaram. It’s almost finished.”

“It was the first thing I wrote on the list,” he lied. He thanked Alastair for reminding him. They truly needed shaving soap. “Let me write that again before I forget.”

“Instead of doing that, why don’t you help me?”

“Are you going somewhere?”

Alastair tilted his head on the side. “In this? Heck, no,” he shrugged. “I thought it was a good day to paint that spare room on the upper floor.”

“The shirt looks fine to me,” Thomas said. 

“There’s a big stain over here and here,” Alastair pointed out. 

Thomas crumpled the stained paper and threw it into the trashcan by the desk. “I can’t see it from here,” he squinted his eyes with a grin. 

“It’s right here,” he added, but Thomas was shrugging. “Perhaps, if you came closer, you would see.”

He rose from his chair and inspected his partner’s clothing with his finger. “This tiny thing? It’s nothing compared to the blot that ruined my paper.”

Alastair rolled his eyes. “Paper is useless if you make a mess with the pen. Ruined shirts are perfect for house chores, instead.”

“Do you have an old shirt for me, jegaram?”

“What do you think? I always come prepared, my handsome Tom,” he assured, offering him a wide smile. 

That was enough to convince him to go upstairs and help him. 

The love letter would have to wait. 

“There is paint in your hair,” Alastair said, and brushed Thomas’ brown strands.

“I might have touched my hair while I was on the ladder,” he answered. “It was covering my eyes.”

“You were about to do that again”, he took his hand. It was covered in yellow paint, and Alastair grabbed a tissue to clean it. 

Thomas sighed. “How come you’re not dirty? You probably painted more than I, but your shirt looks even cleaner than before.”

“Luck?”

“Don’t look so proud, dear.” Thomas said, and left a trail of wet paint on Alastair’s white shirt. 

Alastair raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so is this how it is, huh?”

“You had to throw away this shirt anyway,” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Besides, this isn’t yours.”

“How do you know?”

“It looks too big on you,” he touched his chest. “But I like it. Too bad you can’t wear it outside.”

“Tom, even if it’s yours, I wouldn’t have worn it outside,” Alastair shrugged. “It has stains.”

“It did not,” he insisted. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, hamsaram. At least, we’re almost done with this room.”

“Teamwork pays off,” he agreed. 

“Indeed. And it tires. I think I’m going to nap for a bit.” Alastair smiled at his husband. “Are you coming with me?”

Thomas sighed. He wanted to go, but this break offered him a great opportunity to finish that letter. “I think I’m going to pass,” he said. “I just remembered I need to look at some papers.”

“I’d rather look at the bed for a while,” Alastair said. 

I would rather look at the bed and at you for a while too, Thomas thought absentmindedly. But if I don’t write this letter now, I may not have the time later.

“I’ll help you with the room again later?” he offered.

“Sure,” Alastair kissed his lips and left.

Hamsaram, this year will be our twentieth Valentine’s Day together, and I am ecstatic to be spending it with you. You are the only one I want to spend it with, aside with our two kitties. Do not be jealous. You make me the happiest person alive. I just need to look into those big black eyes of yours to feel invigorated, content, and at home. Safe. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, and I am thankful for every day we spend together. Years ago, when I accidentally sent you that fire message with that awkward line, I never thought we would get this far. I wasn’t sure you would give us another chance, or that we would survive at all because of the threat posed over the city at the time. We made it, against all odds. You’re so precious to me. And I 

Thomas raised his head from the sheet. Alastair observed him, his head tilted to the side. 

“Still working, Tom?”

He covered the letter with his forearms. He wouldn’t stain the paper again. “Yes? I mean, no.”

“I made dinner,” he informed him. “I came to tell you the food is on the table. Do you remember we have night patrol, right?”

Thomas glanced at the clock on his side. “Damn,” he said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were too focused and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I completely forgot about patrol,” he scratched the back of his head. 

“You need to eat, hamsaram,” Alastair said, and started walking back to the kitchen. “We have an annoying night ahead of us.”

Thomas could only sigh. He had spent the last few hours trying to come up with something decent, but he always ended up throwing the paper away. One time, his pen lost too much ink on the sheet again. Another time, he thought that inverting the sentences would be more effective, and discarded that piece only to decide that it was better how he wrote it the first time. 

Now, he only wrote half of it. And they had to go out, which meant he could go back to it tomorrow. Ugh. 

He left the letter on the desk and followed his partner. 

Night patrol ended up better than they expected. They had a minor inconvenience when Laurence Ashdown thought there was a demon lurking around the corner, but it turned out to be just a rat. And that was the highlight of their night, since London was quiet as ever. Perhaps even demons had found a Valentine that night, and were busy celebrating.

After they returned, Thomas wanted to take a bath and then sleep. He needed to eat something first, and Alastair promised that he would get the bath ready. He was sure this would give him the energy to finish his letter. It was barely February 14th, after all. He had time. 

He saw Alastair holding something when he reached the bedroom, and his breath caught. 

“Is it yours?” Alastair asked. 

Thomas bit his lip. “It’s bad,” he sighed. “You shouldn’t have read it. Have you read it? Please, tell me you didn’t.”

“I read it. I thought it was the grocery list. It was so corny, I thought I was going to cry sugar. But Tom,” he grabbed his hand, and kissed his knuckles. “It was beautiful. I loved it.”

“I didn’t even finish it,” he shook his head. “There was a lot I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t have time to write. Why did we have patrol on the night before Valentine’s?”

“It was perfect the way it was, hamsaram,” Alastair chuckled. “You’re also precious to me. You are my home. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he echoed, and put his arms behind Alastair’s neck. “I didn’t write that in the letter.”

“Yes, but I don’t need you to write it to know. I’ve known for twenty years.”

“We need to celebrate,” Thomas said. “Is there something downstairs? Wine?”

“What did you have in mind?”

He smirked. “Did you draw the bath? We could toast to our love. Relax. Forget about the rest of the world for today.”

“I believe it’s a great idea,” Alastair grinned. “Let me get the champagne.”

[luciehercndale]

That's What Candles Do / Thomastair

So here I am with a Thomastair Christmas drabble. Today I also wanted to be short and to the point and write something fluffy and cute to celebrate this season. More may follow, but tomorrow (because right now I'm tired lol). So enjoy <3

Rating: G Words: 489 Read on A03 💜

“Where did you say Cordelia got this candle?” Thomas wondered, a mixture of pine and something else – maybe cinnamon – hitting his nostrils after the wick started to burn. 

“Amsterdam, I think,” Alastair scrunched his nose. “I am not sure I like this smell.”

“It’s bittersweet,” he admitted. “But it’s growing on me. Perhaps it will grow on you too.”

Alastair shrugged from his armchair, and glanced at the cream colored scented candle sitting on the wooden table that separated him from Thomas’ armchair. 

“Perhaps,” he said. “At least I remembered to light it. Last time Cordelia was here, she ordered me to use this damn candle around this time. She said this is the scent of Christmas, but I beg to differ.”

“Did she?” Thomas chuckled. At that, Alastair rolled his eyes. “Well, it is a gift. Of course, she wants you to use it. Gifts are not meant to be sitting on the mantle and gathering dust.”

“We’re talking about a candle, Tom,” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s what candles do.”

Thomas sighed. “Yes, but this is a scented candle. Keyword being scented. It’s meant to spread its fragrance throughout its surroundings. Look at the soft atmosphere it gives this room,” he gestured at the walls with his hand. “Isn’t the perfect Christmas setting?”

“It just makes it impossible for me to enjoy the newspaper with such bad lightning,” he complained, putting the paper aside.

Thomas shook his head and stood up, something caught his attention behind the window. 

“It’s snowing.”

“Is it, now? Must’ve been the power of the candle,” he joked.

“Come here to see,” Thomas demanded. “It’s picking up. It’s the first real snow of the season.”

Alastair rose from his chair and reached his partner. “You were not exaggerating,” he commented. “That’s really a lot of snow. Just in time for Christmas.”

“I thought you didn’t care about Christmas,” Thomas retorted. 

“Why would I have put some mistletoe above the window, if I didn’t?”

Thomas frowned, and looked up. “When did you put this here? I didn’t see it.”

“This morning when you were away with your father,” he confessed. “And you can blame the candle and the bad lightning for your poor sight.” 

“Would you please leave the poor candle alone?” 

Alastair giggled, putting one of his hands behind Thomas’ back. “Only if you give me a kiss. We’re under the mistletoe, after all. And there’s this hint of winter in the air thanks to the candle. The snow is falling outside our window. And I’m in your arms.”

“I’ll give you more than one kiss,” he leaned closer, one hand resting behind Alastair’s neck, the other on his hip. “I have to make up for my bad sight.”

“Shut up, Thomas,” Alastair said playfully, just as the grandfather clock on the wall struck midnight. “And Merry Christmas.” He dragged him by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him.

Merry Christmas, indeed. 

***

Notes: I don't know why but I feel like Cordelia would be the type to gift a scented candle??? In my mind, she got that candle in Amsterdam during her travel year with James. She wanted to contribute to Alastair and Thomas' house with something they could put on the mantle or use (because candles are soothing and give the right atmosphere). Alastair probably thinks candles are overrated because of electricity, but they are still useful.

[luciehercndale]

At Least The Costume Fits / Thomastair

Another Thomastair Christmas drabble, something @alastairstom requested. Alastair dressing as Santa Claus to surprise Zachary 💜

Words: 495 Rating: G Read on A03

“At least the costume fits,” Thomas said, trying to hide a giggle as he gazed at his partner wearing a Santa Claus costume. “How come this was at the London Institute?”

Alastair looked down at his clothes and grunted. It is for a good cause, he kept telling himself. “Apparently, according to Jesse, this belonged to Will Herondale. He used to wear this for his children and nephews at their annual Christmas party. Don’t you remember, Tom?”

Thomas scratched the back of his head. “Honestly,” he said, “No. I think I would hardly forget it if I had seen it,” he giggled. “Maybe it was around the time I was sick and I rarely left home.”

Alastair nodded and thought about the odds of finding himself in Will Herondale’s Santa costume. “Can you fix my beard?” he turned his head to his partner, who was still appraising his look. “By the angel, it’s itchy.” 

“That’s because you are moving,” Thomas asserted. “Be still.” He tried to adjust the white cloud of wool the best he could. When he was done, he cupped Alastair’s face between his palms and grinned widely. 

“Do I look like an idiot?” Alastair wondered, his forehead creasing. 

He brushed his lips quickly over his. “You look like a good older brother,” he said. “He’s going to be so happy when he sees you.”

“Or scared for the rest of his life,” he sneered. “Come on.”

They trudged silently through the narrow corridors of Cirenworth headed to Zachary’s room. His family had planned to stay in Cornwall Gardens, but Zachary fell ill and his mother didn’t want to risk it. Thomas suggested they visit Devon instead, and surprise his little brother by dressing as Santa Claus. 

Thomas brushed his back to encourage him. He opened the door, while Alastair stayed by the wall. “Hi, Zachary. Someone is here to see you. Do you want to meet him?”

Thomas gestured to Alastair to get in. His steps were slow. He was impersonating an old man, after all. Or was trying to.

“Do you know about Santa Claus?” he asked, kneeling by the bed.

“Yes! You told me about him,” he said, and Alastair huffed behind his fake beard. Smart kid.

“I came from the North Pole just for you,” he continued. “Just to give you this.”

Zachary grabbed the box with the toy and opened it. “I like it,” he said giddily. “Thank you, Alastair. I love you.”

“I’m not –” he began, but the child was distracted by the toy. “I’m glad you liked it,” he passed a hand through his hair. His forehead wasn’t too warm, and it was a good sign. “I love you too.”

His brother gazed up at him. “Can you stay with me?” 

“As long as you want, Zachary,” he smiled. “Ho, ho, ho,” he imitated Santa’s laugh.

Thomas and Zachary laughed in response. Alastair still felt embarrassed, but at least he had made his little brother happy.

***

I feel like Will Herondale totally used to dress up as Santa to play with his children and nephews. Someday he's going to pass this tradition down to someone else, but that's material for another story. ;)

I hope you like this <3 I wanted to write more, but I wanted to keep the drabble length.

[luciehercndale]

Three Years and Counting - Lucie and Jesse

My entry for @ghostwriterfest <3 Set a few years after canon. Lucie and Jesse go on a date to celebrate their relationship milestone and remember the first time they kissed. Mostly fluff, but with a little hurt/comfort. Rating: T Read on A03 💜

Lucie fixed her hat one last time and took her bag from the desk, before storming out of her room, the sound of her heels echoing on the limestone floor. She was excited and probably late. As she walked briskly to the stairs leading to the main entrance, she couldn’t help but smile. She knew he was already waiting by the door by now, citing the excuse that it didn’t take long for him to get ready to go out, unlike her. But she knew he was just as thrilled to be alone with her as she was.

She knew she was right when reached the staircase, and saw him from the gallery above. He had his back to her, and he was talking to her brother. Lucie wasn’t sure when James had arrived. He probably needed to talk to their father, but she wasn’t sure. However, she did not care. She began descending the stairs, and that was when Jesse finally turned, interrupting whatever he was saying to James. Their eyes met, and he grinned at her. Lucie exchanged the grin, and she didn’t stop glancing at her boyfriend until she was next to him. She loved him so much, and she knew he loved her too. “Hello, James,” she chirped. “Are you going out, Lucie?” James asked. “Jesse was just telling me about it.” “Yes,” she answered, grabbing Jesse’s hand. “We are going on a date. We’ll get home late.” “I never asked,” her brother shrugged. “I will tell papa when I see him. I needed to talk to him about next week’s dinner at Cirenworth with Cordelia’s mother.” “Okay, you go on. Say hi to Daisy from me.” James nodded and said goodbye, leaving them alone in the foyer. 

Every year, around the end of November, they had a special date night at the Shadow Market to celebrate the first time they had kissed. They had talked about it, and they both considered that moment to mark the beginning of their relationship. This year, they didn't have much luck with the weather. At least, rain and wind had quieted for that day, thus they took on the chance before the clouds would make it impossible to stroll around London without soaking their clothes. “Were you waiting for a long time?” Lucie asked Jesse. “A half an hour.” he replied with a playful grin. “You’re awfully slow at getting ready.” 

“Oh,” Lucie huffed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away when I had to decide which dress to wear. I wanted the blue one, but then I opted for the emerald green.”

“Green, huh? You’re wearing so much of that as of late.”

Lucie blushed, and gazed up at him. “You’ve noticed,” she replied. “I thought it wouldn’t suit me, but I’ve noticed that it brightens the color of my eyes.” And it’s also the color of your eyes, she wanted to add, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew it, she hoped. They had left the Institute behind and were directed to Southwark. It was a warm evening for November standards, and it wasn’t raining, thus they decided to reach their destination on foot. 

“It does indeed,” Jesse nodded. “But then again, I am biased when it comes to you.” She squeezed his hand, feeling even warmer than before. “You are such a doting boyfriend, and I love you for that. Among other things I like about you, of course.” “And here I thought you only wanted to be with me because I am utterly handsome and apparently, also filthy rich.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jesse Blackthorn,” she rolled her eyes at him and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I only want to be with you because you’re the only one who puts up with my writing,” she joked.

“That’s not true,” he retorted. “Your brother and Cordelia might have stopped giving you feedback because they have been traveling a lot, but your mother and I still read your stories.”

Lucie frowned, but still smiled. “Mam stopped giving me feedback a while ago,” she confessed. “But it’s my fault. You read my most recent writing, you saw how it got more –” “Personal? Yes, I figured it out,” he offered her a smile. “And you didn’t say anything,” she sighed. “Why?” “Well, admittedly, I didn’t catch all the personal references because I know you didn’t just write about you and me,” Jesse explained. “It’s not like when you wrote about Lord Jethro turning into a ghost and I felt a tad offended – maybe too offended,” he chuckled, “because I thought you were humoring me. But that was a clear reference and I was frustrated that I couldn’t really be with you because of the state I was in. Writing is a mix of real and invented, and sometimes, people see themselves in fiction, because fiction borrows from real life.”

“You are not wrong about this,” she said. “The problem is not that, though. I don’t mind my mother or my friends reading stories that they might have inspired. What scares me is being seen. Being known for real. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but even I have things I do not want to share with the world. And I’m afraid they won’t like it.”

“It seems fair,” he conceded as they arrived at their destination. The Shadow Market under London Bridge brimmed with downworlders, and it was a spectacle to see. “That was also the first thing that shocked me when I first met you. Being seen. It was at the same time thrilling and terrifying.” “Because I was the only stranger who could see you?” Jesse squeezed her hand this time, and she caught a shy smile on his face, but he was looking straight ahead. Lucie noticed the faerie stall with magic potions. They were so colorful. “More or less, yes. You weren't a stranger properly because I used to spy on your family a lot,” he said. “I couldn't believe I could talk to you. You were the first older person I could ever talk to who wasn’t dead, and I didn't know if I could handle it.”

“Can I ask why?”

“You really don't know?” He wondered. “You were intimidating, Lucie.”

She giggled. “Bizarre to find out after years that I scared you when we first met. Perhaps I was uglier than I thought.”

“Yes, you were so ugly, you scared me to death,” he chuckled. “No, wait. I was already dead.”

“Are you dead serious?” They exchanged a glance and laughed together. This was one thing she liked about being with Jesse. She could joke with him and he would humor her back. It was comforting being silly with someone.

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Perhaps I’m with you just because of your connections, Lucie. Have you ever thought about that?”

She rolled her eyes. “We are here,” she called, and tried to drag him to the spot they both remembered well. “Over there,” she added, hoping he had heard her over the noise. The crowd in this area of the Market was thick, and it made it impossible for them to walk side by side. Lucie tightened the hold on Jesse’s hand and led the way. She had noticed a spot with no stalls right under the bridge where the train passed overhead, and she meant to take him there, where they could stop and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Lucie saw two vampires discussing with a faerie who didn’t want to lower the price of some concoction. This probably distracted her, because when she turned towards the path out of the crowded street, someone almost crashed into her. “Apologies, sweet lady,” the man said, his voice eerie. He was dressed as a clown, and she was startled for a second. Not because of his clothes, but because she hadn’t seen him coming. She sighed, but still replied: “no problem,” but he had already left. She turned to Jesse to check on him. He tightened his grip on her hand, and she assumed he had been equally surprised by the clown barreling into them. She frowned when she saw him. He was paler than usual, and even in the dim lights of the Shadow Market, she could see that there was something wrong with him. A drop of sweat fell on the side of his face, and that alarmed her. It was too cold for him to be sweating, unless –

They were almost out of the crowded street, and she could see a way out. She pulled him into the empty space she had eyed before and he followed her without uttering a word. She heaved a sigh once they were out of the grasp of the crowd, and eased him to lean his back on the stone wall.

“Jesse,” she muttered, alarmed, cradling his face in her hands. His breath was labored, and this worried her even more. She thought someone in the crowd might have hurt him. “What –” she began, but he put his hand over hers and she squeezed it. It was icy cold, and it trembled in hers. She caressed his cheek and he glanced at her with a frightened look. “You are safe. No one is going to hurt you here. I will protect you.” It wasn’t a lie. Lucie wasn’t that tall, but she could fight, if she needed to. She didn’t think she would need to fend off any demons, aside from the ones from a past she wasn’t aware of. She asked him to breathe in and breathe out, remembering another episode in the past where he had a similar reaction, until color returned to Jesse’s cheeks and he wasn’t gasping anymore. 

He offered her a weak smile, and held on her hip for balance. It was enough for her, who could only sigh. “The one who bumped into you,” he said at last, “it was a clown.”

It was Lucie’s turn to gasp now. How could she forget? “I’m sorry, Jesse. I should’ve seen him coming.”

“He came out of nowhere, you could not,” he quickly replied. “It’s fine now, I just needed to take a breath. Thank you for taking me here.” She nodded and bit her lip, not letting go of his hand. “Are you okay?” “Yes, way better,” he assured her. “At last, we are where we intended to arrive.” “Was this the spot?” Lucie wondered, and frowned at the noise of the train passing nearby. “I wish the market wasn’t so crowded. I could have run after that clown and hit him with my hat.” “It wasn’t worth it,” he shook his head. “We can leave if you want, but I’d rather not. We have a tradition to uphold.” It had turned into a tradition to have a date at the Shadow Market, and they made it there despite the last unwanted encounter. 

“Are you sure?” she asked again, but she could see that he was better. “Then let’s make the best of it.”

She knew what came next, and put her arms around him. Jesse carried her face in his hands and she tipped her chin up so he could have easy access to her lips. This wasn’t like the first time. Their first kiss had been urgent, because they were both afraid it could’ve been their last, and they had wanted to savor it until the end. But it had also been shy, because neither of them had known how to do it properly. Later, they had confessed to each other that it had been their first kiss, and Lucie couldn’t have been happier. They were going to be each other’s firsts in so many things, and this made their relationship even more meaningful to them. This kiss held the passion and love they felt for each other but it was not rushed. They knew they had all the time in the world, and they kissed each other until their lips were swollen and sore, and their cheeks had turned red because of the heat. “Three years and counting?” she wondered, out of breath, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Here’s to many more,” he answered, and he sealed their anniversary and their promise of love with another kiss.

*

Thanks for reading <3 I wanted to write this for a long time, and I saw a post where I was reminded that in CoT Jesse says that he is scared of clowns and of stripes. I wanted this to go differently and include this bit too, but this week was too hectic and I had a hard time finding the will to write and to get inspired. This fic meant to be fluffy and soft, despite the hurt/comfort. I love when the fmc comforts the mc, and I have one more fic where Lucie takes care of Jesse. I will probably post it sooner or later. For the moment, you enjoyed this. <3

[luciehercndale]

The Scent of the Night - Kell and Lila

No spoilers for Threads of Power in this fic. It is meant to happen post A Conjuring of Light but before the events of TOP. While the ship is docked at a small city port, Lila finds herself riddled with thoughts about Kell, and how they still haven't found a way to help him with his magic. Rating: T Read on A03 💙

Lila sighed, and her breath came out in puffs. 

It was a cold night, probably the coldest ever since they left Tanek, and she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even want to get warmer with magic. Shrugging herself deeper into her coat, she gazed at the dock where they moored a day prior. Her gaze longed to see activity, an immediate way to distract her thoughts, but to no avail. This could be the quietest or the busiest moment at a harbor, and regrettably for Lila, this place preferred to be asleep at night, its people safely tucked into their beds. As I should, probably, she thought, and managed a mocking smile.

Lila knew she should probably head downstairs to her quarters, and try to sleep it off. To forget for a few hours about it all. About his pain, his suffering – If it wasn’t this late, she could have had a few drinks by herself. But if the docks were empty of souls, what luck could she have to find a tavern that still accepted customers? What a bore.

She knew that she needed movement. She could have roamed the entirety of the ship and waited for tiredness to come, but she didn’t want to wake the crew, nor Kell. She hadn’t heard him at all when she passed his cabin, and she was confident he was sleeping. 

She needed to go. Benefit from the drowsiness of her traveling companions and draw herself away from the stillness of the ship. At least for the night. 

God, I can’t wait to set out to sea the next morning, she thought. She didn’t like being stuck in the same place for long, especially when it was unfruitful. The only way to cope with the urge to change the setting was to take a break from everything for a few minutes, or hours. 

She was by herself on the prow of her ship, but it wasn’t enough. The crew was still below deck. He was still below deck, within reach. On another day, she would have climbed into bed with him and let him hold her. That night, however, she felt like she needed space to run from her thoughts about him, so she ran into the night, and it welcomed her with open arms.

There was something so calming yet so eerie about a city drowned in sleep. The lack of noise helped to think and to relax, or to hear a thief’s footsteps more clearly. It was also a foe. As Lila walked through the silent streets, she tried not to let it bother her. She watched the closed stalls and the dark houses and she began to imagine who must be living there, and what they did for a living. How did they solve their mundane problems?

She felt like a ghost haunting the town, the chill of winter seemed to engulf the city differently from the ship, because the buildings were a shield, she supposed. They felt homely, while the dock was open to the cold wind. Lila felt a little warmer within the narrow alleys. For a while, it seemed like the change of setting was helping dull her mind. Her own fantasy about who roamed these streets during the day was a ploy to divert her attention, until it wasn’t anymore.

She felt the tears before she realized she was crying. They left a trail of iciness on her face, which jolted her back to the issue, back to reality, back to the thing she was running from. Back to – she stopped in her tracks and listened. Breathed in the air of the small port city, and what hit her nostrils wasn’t the crisp tang of winter, a signal of void and absence. 

The night smelled like flowers, and Lila closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, inhaling the familiar scent, letting it engulf her bones, but she kept walking as if it was nothing. 

It didn’t last long, though, and soon, she stopped again. The tears still ran freely onto her cheeks, and she sucked in a breath trying to get a grip on herself. Tried to hide the evidence before her mood would be known to the world. To him.

Lila told herself to keep walking, to pretend. The city might be tiny, but there were still so many paths to explore. Like there were many unexplored places where they could find a cure. 

She decided to ignore the scent, but how could she? 

It was all over her, grazing parts of herself she thought were long sealed and dead. That gracious smell found ways to slip into her, it made her believe that she wasn’t alone, and that she was worth loving. That she was loved. It clung to her skin and to her clothes. It ignored the thorns that she had tended for years, it ripped them apart. Let new blossoms of different colors bloom inside of her. It gave her a new reason to live, and to die for. Her flower boy.

Right now, she knew that she was dying for him to be alright, and it ripped her apart. Yet, he was one of the few reasons to keep trying. To resist. To stop running. To open up. Yet, the first thing she said to him was: “I can handle myself.”

She heard a soft chuckle behind her, but she did not turn. “Trust me, I know.”

“Then why are you here?” she blurted out, flinching. Not because of the cold. She knew she was bracing for his answer. Afraid, she realized with time, that he would say something that would make her love him even more. Loving someone was a desperate business, and it hurt tenfold compared to a knife fight. “I can handle myself,” she repeated, trying not to stutter. 

Steps. He advanced and got close to her. She could feel his breath on her neck, stronger now that he was right behind her. It instantly calmed her down, made her feel less lonely. She didn’t move. 

“You didn’t return to your cabin and I was worried,” he whispered, his voice genuinely concerned. 

“So you followed me,” she rasped, but it came out weak. “As you can see, I’m all in one piece. You can go back to the ship.”

“Lila, don’t,” he pleaded, and she wasn’t sure if he meant ‘I don’t want to go back’ or ‘don’t lie’. 

“What else is there?” she wondered, clenching her hands instinctively. A way to prepare for the blow, whatever that was. Damn, she was so stupid. 

“You’re in a mood,” he said. 

“I’m in a mood,” she echoed, without agreeing or disagreeing. “So you followed me to quell my anger, that’s it? Well, for your information, there’s nothing you can do about it,” she seethed, while inside of her she screamed to herself: Lies. Lies. You’re lying, Lila. Lies. 

“Would you stop?” he inquired, and turned her body toward his. Now they were facing each other, and Lila couldn’t help but gaze up at him, even if it meant that he would see. He opened his mouth slightly, newfound concern and fondness glinting in his mismatched eyes. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, and his fingers were warm. “Lila,” he whispered lovingly, embracing her without asking for answers. And she let him. 

Even his body was unlikely warm in the freezing night, but it was probably because of his magical coat. She envied him for it at times, but she would never trade the coat if it meant losing Kell’s warmth. And right now, he was like fire lighting her match. 

He didn’t say anything, but his doting affection and care, his muscular arms cradling her head and her back, the way he made her feel protected even though she knew how to take care of herself – they told her everything she needed to know. So she leaned into him, letting the tears come freely. Letting him, the center of her thoughts, console her. Because he was also the cure.

“I’m preoccupied,” she said later, when they were returning to the ship, holding each other’s hands. And angry and powerless, she wanted to add, but that was clear.

Kell nodded. “What for?” he asked quietly, and this time she felt like sharing her thoughts.

She bit her lip. “You,” she confessed, and he sighed. 

“You shouldn’t,” he answered quickly, offering her a smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes, and Lila had learned how to read him. Sometimes, they were so alike. “I probably just need to rest my magic for a while,” he added somberly. “I’m sure it will come back soon.”

“What if it doesn’t,” she voiced her thoughts. “What if you need someone’s help?”

“I doubt someone can help my case, if not myself,” he said, eyes glancing at the road before them. They almost reached the docks. 

Lila rolled her eyes. In this too, they mirrored each other. “Kell,” she squeezed his hand, and he turned to her. “What if we find somebody who can help you?”

“I said, there’s no –”

“Don’t be stubborn,” she halted. “This world is a big place, and we still haven’t seen everything. There must be someone or something out there that can fix your magic. And I’m not stopping until I find them.”

“Don’t waste your time on something so trivial,” Kell replied, and kept walking, but she was sure she had hit a nerve and he was trying to pretend not to be bothered by this issue.

“Trivial?” God, she wanted to punch him in the guts. Idiot. “I wish I could fix you with my magic,” she whispered, reaching him. 

She took his hand again, and he kissed her knuckles. Sometimes she forgot he was also a prince. The gesture made her blush, and she could tell it was his way to shut the argument. He was done talking about it because she knew it hurt him, and he probably didn’t want to make it her problem. But she couldn’t look away. 

I care about you, idiot, she wanted to tell him. And it pains me to see you suffer like this. I wish I knew how to help you.

Give it to Kell for being stubborn. Then again, wasn’t she equally stubborn for wanting to find a way to fix his magic even if he was convinced that they didn’t need to? Wasn’t that also a form of head-headedness? Probably.

Unlike him, who seemed to have already accepted his fate without question, Lila would not go down without a fight. She would not give up the search for whatever could fix Kell. They had a world to explore, and the whole time in the world to do it. And they had each other. She would not give up on him.

When they finally reached the docks, it was dawn, and sailors were bustling about with boxes and other things. They stopped in front of her ship, but Lila stopped Kell before he could go aboard and gave him a heated kiss. 

“What was that for?” he asked, breathless and red-faced.

“For luck,” she whispered with a smirk. Not that we need it, she added in her mind, and she wondered if he had caught the reference. If he remembered.

Kell smiled in acknowledgement, and stretched out his arm. “After you.”

Lila giggled softly, and dragged him aboard, his flower scent enveloping the ship with the smell of home and hope.

*

Glad you made it here <3

My intention with this fic was to write angsty Lila and angsty Kell comforting each other, a way to emphasize on how they are there to support each other and would literally die for each other. Kell prefers to nurse his problems alone, and Lila gives him space because she knows he is a proud prince and he thinks he must solve this problem by himself. It obviously hurts her to see him in pain when he uses his power, and she feels even more helpless because she wants to find a way to fix his magic and she still hasn't. So the point was to show how deeply this is affecting Lila and how she handles when the person she loves is having a hard time. But also how comfortable and intimate and familiar traveling with him on the ship is, and she wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

[luciehercndale]

Kell/Lila - I Left Myself In The Alleyway

While Lila and Kell are in Grey London for an errand, she runs into her father by chance. At last, she caught the source of her uneasiness. There he was, the culprit. He stood at the counter with a glass in his hand. Surveying. She hadn’t forgotten that face. How could she, when she looked so much like him?

The title is from "Alleyways" by The Neighbourhood. https://youtu.be/qVwckL8Q3_Y?si=UTfUueBKm47jaHDW

I knew another fic won the poll, but I was carried away and finished this in the meantime, so I'm posting it. :) Don't worry, you'll get the story that won the poll soon. I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Rating: T Words: 2,372 Check the link for the tw.

[luciehercndale]

TSC Analysis: Will and Tessa's behavior towards James and Lucie's partners

Tonight I'll talk about a topic that personally interests me a lot and that, I don't know, may interest other people? I hope. Parents and their relationship with their in-laws. It was inspired by a poll about who was Will's favorite kid, lol. It got me thinking about Will and Tessa's "kids", and specifically, about Cordelia and Jesse, who are part of their extended family by this point. This analysis is about how Will and Tessa view Cordelia and Jesse as their children's partners and how they interacted with them in TLH. Did they trust them instantly? Did they like them? Are they close? Things that I often asked myself and I thought I'd share with you hoping you're interested because this took me hours to write 😅

Will trusts his children's judgement when it comes to Cordelia and Jesse, but naturally, he also has opinions about them, and we saw them in the way he interacted with both. Cordelia (and James) lied about their marriage, but since he never knew about the sham, he never doubted her. Will was overjoyed with the news that James was going to marry a Carstairs, Jem's cousin no less, and gave her his blessing. To him, Cordelia was already family, and he loved her already and trusted her. Wessa trusted Cordelia but she was actually lying to them about her marriage to James.

Will was distrustful towards Jesse at first, because he had been possessed. He accepted him after he discovered what he did for James. Sacrificing his last breath for his son was enough 'proof' that Jesse didn't have ill intentions towards his family. In London, Jesse acted like a proper boyfriend towards Lucie, but he also was well-mannered with Wessa, he helped around the Institute; Will never once thought his trust had been misplaced. Unlike Cordelia, Jesse had to earn Will's trust. By the end of the story, Will considers Jesse like family, that's why he gave him the home mark and the stele which belonged to his father. This is very symbolic. Will officially welcomed Jesse in the family even though he's not married to Lucie yet (so this was sort of a blessing from Will to Lucie and Jesse) and probably a promise about Jesse's own future in the London Institute.

Will is very sentimental: he accepted Cordelia instantly because she was a Carstairs, unaware that Jordelia lied about their marriage at first. Will is also very practical: he accepted Jesse not because of his last name, but for the way he behaved, for his practical actions. Wessa considered Cordelia like a daughter, because of who she was. They loved her already, and she needn't do anything for them to like her, or to earn their trust (which she very much broke when she and James lied to them). Jesse was the son of the villain and won Wessa's heart over by showing them he was a person they could rely on. This also meant being a well-mannered guy around their daughter and be transparent, for the sake of the future he wants to have with her.

Tessa also trusts Lucie and James's judgement. It's very easy to win Tessa over. She is a great judge of character and very hopeful and tries to trust people even though they did bad things (she was the only one who believed there was still hope to save Tatiana, uhm). She knows how to read people, and I bet she is very good at figuring body language too and understand whether someone is uncomfortable, lying, needs advice, etc. Not that Will isn't, but he lets his emotions cloud his judgement at times, and he can be impulsive and act rashly, then later rationalize and change his mind if he needs to. Tessa is more rational than Will and more controlled in her reactions (if you think that when Will sees Jesse for the first time, he literally takes a blade to threaten him, duh!).

Tessa seems quieter than Will, but she's not. She pays attention a lot and seems to be very helpful in making people feel at ease or more positive and hopeful about a situation. She's very attentive. When talking about Cordelia and Jesse to Lucie and James, she first comments about their outward appearance. Soon, though, she gives insight about their inner world, what not many people bother to see when they interact with pretty people. Tessa understands the struggles Cordelia and Jesse are going through, and is ready to offer them support when she feels they need it.

Cordelia felt very uneasy during her engagement party with James, the moment when she was officially introduced to their society as James' future wife and the Herondale's future in law/family member. Tessa helped her feel more confident. She was able to understand Cordelia because she is also a woman who is often whispered-about by the people in the Clave, and her father is also someone very questionable. Before Jordelia's marriage, she also advised James that even though Cordelia was a strong woman, the matter with her father bothered her a lot because it was complicated. Hence, Will also advised James to be a good husband and support Cordelia.

Tessa's situation with Jesse is quite similar, but the conversation happens in private during a dinner, where Jesse is already inserted into the Herondale's family dynamics as if he was already one of them. Will had just received the call that Tatiana was in Cornwall. This whole situation upsets Jesse, because his relationship with his mother was complicated. Tessa sensed it, and tried to give him hope. Something any good mother would say, if they see their son looking lost and hopeless. Lucie wanted to go after Jesse to support him but Tessa advised against it and suggested she gave him time to be alone.

In both instances, it's James who notices Jesse's shocked reaction to the fatherly/motherly way in which Will and Tessa interact with him. He doesn't just recognize how Jesse grew up in a very different environment than he did (dead father, problematic mother), but also that his parents were and are good parents to him and Lucie. They were always supportive of him and his sister, and they received a lot of love. And Wessa's love and support is not limited to James and Lucie only, they also show love and support to their family and friends, and to even to people they barely know.

Closing remarks: I believe that Wessa like Cordelia and Jesse very much as James and Lucie's partners, of course, and they welcomed them with open arms in their family. Because of the circumstances, though, the end of TLH it seems to hint that Wessa (and especially Will's) relationship with Jesse is going to be tighter than the one with Cordelia. It's not a matter of preference between their in-laws, who I think they equally like, but a matter of proximity. James and Cordelia got married, and they now live in a separate house. They are in a new "cycle" in their life where, as a couple, they started their own life and they separated from their birth parent's house. This means they may spend less time around Wessa because they're going to have their life in their own house, and when they have children and they will get married, it will happen the same thing. They're just following a life cycle. Things are different for Lucie and Jesse. They still live under Wessa's roof, and Jesse helps Wessa doing things around the Institute, eats with them, does stuff with them most likely. If my theory about Jesse running the London Institute in the future turns real, it is highly likely and natural that Wessa and especially Will, will strengthen their relationship with Jesse.