Hi! I am back with another one-shot! Sorry, sorry; I just HAD to write another one. Once you write one, there's no going back. It's an addictive sport, and you don't even have to sweat. I wish it actually was a sport, though, so I could do this instead of running laps. -.- To be honest, I'm not that bad at running, it's just I'd rather write. Well, it depends on what kind of mood I'm in, you know?

Anyways, I've been talking about myself too much. It's time to write another one-shot. It's TID and about ducks...again. I've always liked TID better than TMI. (please don't kill me) It's slightly crackfic and OOC, like most humor one-shots. Enjoy!

By my seraphic pen,

Marie E. Brooke

Disclaimer: I do not own TID or any of the characters in it. I do own enough money to bet that a lot of girls are wishing they owned Will.


~Writing Wars~

An Infernal Devices one-shot by

Marie E. Brooke


A beautiful maiden with long, ebony hair whipping around in the wind stood on the cliff, admiring the way the delicate colors of the sunset blended into each other and fit perfectly. Once again, she wished that her life was like that, made of soft, matching colors that fit together like puzzle pieces. Not the way it was now, with wild, mismatched shades that contrasted starkly against each other. It gave her migraines just to think about it all. So here she was, sitting on the cliff ledge, legs tangling precariously over empty space. Her almond eyes scanned the horizon, looking-

"I don't see why you have to include all that description," said Tessa, who was peering at the paper. "All that information you put in seems useless, however poetic it may be. One or two lines would be more than sufficient. Your writing is OK, but lacking in many areas such as foreshadowing, but I understand that this is only the beginning, so you aren't working on the plot much. I like the way that you managed to include a few of her facial features in it without outright introducing her in a cliché fashion, but despite this, you-"

"I know, I'm simply horrid at writing." Cecily Herondale sighed, crumbling her piece inky piece of parchment into a ball and squashing her face against the desk, her thick black hair covering half of its wooden surface.

Tessa hesitated, unsure of what to say to the obviously depressed girl. "I well, um- It was good, but it could use some-ah, how to say it-yes, editing," she finished lamely. Cecily gazed at her through a mass of inky hair, confused. "I mean," Tessa hurried to correct her words, "it could use adjustments. Like here," said Tessa, unfurling the paper wad and pointing to a line on the messy paper. "And if you just did this, yes, that would work, and you should add this..." Tessa had picked up a quill and started writing, mumbling under her breath every now and then.

Cecily's followed Tessa's movements curiously until the exhausted brunette finally handed over the paper, ink spots blotching her crimson dress. "Finished," she gasped and collapsed onto the couch, hand held to her forehead. "It's not finished yet, but I hope you like it," panted Tessa.

Cecily, amused at Tessa's theatrics, took the paper, scanning the messy print. Why do I feel so bad about my work when I read yours? "This is quite good," said Cecily, impressed. "I especially like the part when they visit the park," she added, seeing Tessa's skeptical look. "The ducks are simply adorable!"

Will chose that moment to burst into the room. "Ducks?" he spluttered loudly, his tone incredulous. "Adorable?!"

Cecily facepalmed, knowing that Will had been eavesdropping against the door for the whole time. Really, Will? she thought, giving him an exasperated look. Will, reading her thoughts, just shrugged and grinned.

"Aren't they? They are just so darling!" she gushed, clasping her hands together, totally oblivious to Will's reddening face.

Cecily, who knew about Will's extreme hatred of ducks, nudged Tessa nervously. "Tessa, I wouldn't say that if I were you," she started cautiously.

"DUCKS ARE NOT DARLING! OR ADORABLE! I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT'S ADORABLE!" exploded Will, storming over to Tessa. He tore the sheet of paper from the slightly surprised, slightly exasperated brunette and started to scribble, his quill almost ripping the paper in his moment of pure fury. She had called those demonic things adorable! How dare she! Fuming, Will handed over the revised (or "improved," as he liked to think) version of her story.

"Now that I've added my writing to it," he said to her, "which is, of course, an epitome of perfection, it should be at least suitable. But I doubt even my majestic writing talents could cover up for the damage you have done to the world," he warned.

Tessa, thinking of the "majestic writing" he displayed on the front page of Vathek, rolled her eyes.

Cecily, it seemed, was thinking something along the same lines. "Didn't you start performing your rendition of Hamlet on the roof when you were 11?" she commented.

Will puffed out his chest. "I did indeed," he said solemnly. "I even sung some songs I wrote for the occasion!"

"Oh, so that's why the cat died," realized Cecily.

"It died on its own account!" argued Will.

"Oh, so the cat just decided to start screaming and ram his head into the wall."

"Stop trying to make it sound it sound so ludicrous!"

"I'm afraid I have no choice."

Tessa watched the two siblings bicker angrily, thoroughly amused. Turns out Will was right when he said that Cecily could curse like a sailor, she thought. But Will was pretty close to Cecily in that category, stringing obscenities out of thin air (or, Tessa suspected, the many books he read). Despite the fact that these fights were a regular occurence, Tessa always learned something new, usually some more profanity.

"It's so vexing, isn't it?" remarked Jessamine in the manner one may talk about a particularly nasty bit of gossip. She stared at the two with obvious distaste. "I wish they would stop their immature chatter already," she added, sniffing.

Tessa stayed silent, knowing exactly what was coming.

Jessamine cast a sideways glance towards her. "Five pounds that the table will be destroyed," she said shortly, handing over several crisp notes to Tessa's outstretched hand. Tessa nodded curtly, sparing only a glance towards her blonde friend before she continued to watch the fight.

For a few minutes there was silence, save the loud insults coming from Will and Cecily. After all, it is only for so long two screaming people can hold one's attention. Jessamine, waiting impatiently for the table to be broken, snatched the faded parchment from Tessa's hand.

"Jessie," Tessa pleaded, "the table-"

The plea in her voice only sparked Jessamine's curiosity. She began to read faster. Her face instantly morphed from merely curious to full-on outrage. "How dare someone write something as disgusting and unladylike as this?" she roared in a rather un-ladylike manner. She immediately began to scribble on the poor, overused piece of parchment. Tessa, who was about to warn her not to get to worked up about such trivial matters, faltered at Jessamine's crazed expression.

After about ten minutes of furious writing on Jessamine's part, the panting blonde finally leaned back in her chair, exhausted beyond her mind. She was still breathing heavily, and sweat was matted to her forehead. "It's done!" cried Jessamine triumphantly.

Now, if nobody had bothered her, Jessamine's inner feminist may have been appeased. She would have finally gotten over her rage and went to her room, reverted back to her normal, subdued self. But alas, that was not to be.

"Hey, Jessamine!" Will called, waving a hand. Jessamine whipped her head around. Will grinned. "Like my writing? I was thinking of adding in another section involving the two characters-"

Jessamine's face swelled up to a shade of red that would've put Henry's to shame. She started to chase Will, screaming things that won't be posted here because it's only rated K.

Will, upon seeing her raging figure, began to run away gleefully. "OH, NO YOU DON'T! GET BACK HERE, YOU MALE CHAUNIVIST PIG!" she screeched, chasing after him and randomly conjuring a book out the thin air, hitting him hard on the head with it.

Tessa merely sighed and started to read A Christmas Carol. Though she rather disliked fantasy books such as these (she already had her daily dose paranormal, living with supernatural beings), she still found it more interesting than the fight that she had been watching just the other day, and the day before that, and two days before that and so on.

The door opened and Jem appeared. "Charlotte wants-" he started and upon seeing the chaos that was unfolding, turned on his heel and yelled down the hall, "Sorry, Charlotte, they can't go!"

A female voice, clearly Charlotte, came back at him, holding a tint of dread in it. "Not again," it groaned. "It's been going on for weeks."

"And weeks," added Jem.

"And weeks and weeks and who knows how many more," ended Tessa.

"Let's just go," declared Charlotte, who had somehow ended up in the chair next to Tessa without her even noticing. She stood up and started towards the door. Jem and Tessa nodded in agreement, following suit.

"Wait!" cried Tessa suddenly. "I need to get something!" She rushed back into the drawing room and came back shortly afterwards with a piece of crumbled parchment. "Got it," she said triumphantly. "Now all I need to do is hide it." With that, she whisked down the hall, leaving behind a two very confuzzled individuals.

Jem and Charlotte exchanged a puzzled look before coming to a silent agreement; they would simply forget what just happened and walk back in silence.


Finally finished! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! (probably not, since I'm not that good of a writer, but I can still hope!)

But if you look closely, it's kind of deep, ya know? Like when Will eggs on Jessamine, he could actually be trying to bring back her fiery, fashionable spirit-

Nah, I'm not that deep.

Anyways, please review! Reviews mean so much to me. Seriously, they do. So review if you liked this one-shot and want more stuff like this! (or if you have an idea for another one-shot. Seriously, guys, I need plot-bunnies)

By my seraphic pen,

Marie E. Brooke