maiarwar
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This story is set in an alternate world where Edmund Herondale never left the Clave and his three children grew up in the London Institute. In a world where Tessa was raised by the Starkweather family and Jem made it to adulthood before tragedy struck.
William Herondale has a secret that no one can afford to have break into a scandal. To make sure it is all securely swept under the rug, his father is rushing him into a marriage with anyone who will have him as quickly as it can be arranged.
Theresa Starkweather's family has been sweeping her under the rug for years and she is left scrambling to make sense of everything when the dour Institute she lives in is suddenly overrun by Herondales and her own family members desperate to make a positive impression on the minor Nephilim Royalty.
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Bookmarked by maiarwar
09 Mar 2025
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Those walls I built didn't even put up a fight by Aza (sazandorable)
Fandoms: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
20 Oct 2014
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"Is it morally okay to stab a medic with their own scissors?" Nico asked Cecil. (Not that he usually cared about morally okay, as Octavian might demonstrate.)
Nico's three days in the infirmary go by faster than he'd thought, and Will just won't stop flirting.
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The locked-room mystery and other clichés by Claire_cz for Gummy_bean
Fandoms: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
17 Mar 2024
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Holmes and Watson are investigating a murder of a wealthy aristocrat. They are interrogating many interesting people; you might even know some of them from Victorian literature.
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Bookmarked by maiarwar
11 May 2024
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chapter 7
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The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”
“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.”
“Don’t listen to him,” said the clouds. “This big ball of gas doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Yes, I do,” said the sun. “Who but me makes the roses grow?”
“We do,” said the clouds. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.”
“Why do you ask?” said the sun.
“I think I might be in love,” said the moon. “I am trying to understand.”