#and clare FINALLY kissing a girl . her friends helping . it was a big moment for me and i did cry

[shitpostblogwahoo]

im apparently the only person who felt something positive with this episode . this episode was made for me it's my episode the episode dedicated to me i loved it to pieces

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {14}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Drank margs all day with my mom and im 2 beers in at home....excuse typos lol this chapter is to be continued....

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“That's everyone's dream, isn't it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves-one who gives you everything.” ― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

Mila was sitting in the backseat, knowing they were going to see Amarantha, but not really sure of anything else. Azriel hadn’t known how to explain it to her. She was only four. He was trying to make light of it, even though he hadn’t slept at all the night before.

He hated Amarantha.

But he loved his niece. 

“Are we almost there?” she asked, looking out the window.

The prison was on the outskirts of the city, and that, to a toddler, felt like hours. 

“Yes,” Azriel said, glancing at the clock.

It was just after ten. 

“Excited to see mama?” Azriel asked.

Mila’s voice was soft when she said, “Yes.” 

It must have been scary, confusing, going to see your mom after you hadn’t seen her in a while, in a new place. Azriel had told her that they would have to not touch Amarantha, there were to be no hugs, and they wouldn’t be able to stay for long.

Mila was confused. 

Azriel tried to ease her confusion but wasn’t successful.

By the time he made it through the gates of the prison, Azriel just wanted it all to be over. He pulled Mila out of the car and held her as he walked through the doors.

They were stopped and searched. They forced Azriel to put Mila down as they searched his person, then they sent Mila through security, looking terrified.

“Alright,” Azriel began, gently, when they were inside. “All done. Now we get to go see mama.”

“Why mama here?” Mila whispered.

Azriel just gave her a smile.

They were led to a big meeting room and told to sit, where inmates were already talking with friends and family. Azriel sat with Mila on his lap at a small, round table, and they waited. 

Neither of them spoke.

Even Mila, who loved to talk about anything to anyone, stayed silent. 

Amarantha was escorted in five minutes later, dressed in her tan scrubs. She saw Mila, and smiled. Azriel didn’t react as his sister met them in the corner, where they sat at the table.

“Hi, my baby,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to Mila’s head.

“Uncle Az says we can’t touch,” Mila said, hand in Azriel’s.

Amarantha hesitated, before sitting across from them. “Well, I can still kiss my baby. How are you? I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Mila said, quietly. “I like staying with Uncle Azzie, though. I go to school and have a unicorn backpack. Uncle Azzie makes me lunch for my batman lunchbox, too.”

“You and Batman,” Amarantha chuckled, and for once, Azriel thought she almost looked human. He and Amarantha used to watch Batman on Saturday mornings - a tradition Azriel brought to Mila the moment she was born. Batman, the best of all superheroes. 

“Uncle Azriel seems to be taking good care of you,” Amarantha said, glancing at Azriel.

His eyes were watching his sister, clinging to every word that came out of her mouth, ready to bolt the moment she said something wrong. 

“Yeah,” Mila said, finally starting to sound like her real self. “And Aunt Mor and Lain.”

Amarantha raised her eyebrows, then looked at Azriel.

“Mor is home from school for the Summer,” Azriel explained. “Elain is a friend of mine.” 

“Lain and Uncle Az are getting married,” Mila beamed.

Amarantha’s brows shot into her hairline.

“No, we’re not,” Azriel began, clearing his throat. “How have you been?��

It was obvious that he was only asking the question so that the spotlight would be off of him. 

“Not awful,” Amarantha said, sighing. “Would be nice if you sent money from time to time.”

Azriel, despite himself, laughed. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Help you get a candy bar while you’re locked up.”

Rolling her eyes, Amarantha looked back to Mila. “Tell me about your school, baby.”

They went on talking. Azriel sat still, Mila on his lap, as she talked to her mother. He let them catch up, watching the clock as it ticked by. They would leave soon. He would carry Mila to the car and get her away from there, buy her some ice cream, some chicken nuggets, and return to normalcy.

As much normalcy as they could have. 

“You don’t let her stay the night, do you?” Amarantha asked.

Azriel blinked, and when he looked at Amarantha, he realized it wasn’t the first time she had asked. “Sorry, what?”

“This Elain,” she repeated, and Mila was looking back and forth between her mother and her uncle. “She doesn’t stay the night, right? With Mila there? She shouldn’t be seeing that.”

Azriel hesitated. “You’re kidding, right?” 

She gave him a look that told him no, she definitely wasn’t.

“I…” Azriel trailed off, laughing. “You’re in fucking prison, and you’re worried about me setting a bad example?”

With thinned lips, Amarantha said, “I still care about my daughter, Azriel.”

“Yeah,” Azriel began. “So do I, which is why I’m fucking here. Don’t ask questions about my personal life. She’s well taken care of. I’ve always taken care of her. You know that, perfectly well.” He took one look into Mila’s eyes and instantly felt guilty.

They were wide, scared, confused, lost.

Azriel sighed. “Sorry, babe. Uncle Az is just tired.”

Mila leaned into his chest, and Amarantha watched the sight with jealousy. “I would like for Mila to come see me once a week, at least.”

Azriel shook his head. “I have a job, Amarantha. And she has school. I can’t get her here every Monday morning.”

“Then find someone who can,” she snapped. 

The threat she dished him over the phone days before replayed in his mind. Get her here, or I’ll have her stay with someone who can. You’re replaceable, Azriel. 

“Fine,” he gritted out.

Amarantha stood. It was five minutes until twelve. It was time to go.

“I love you,” she smiled, and pressed her lips to Mila’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Mila’s lip wobbled as she nodded. “Love you, mama.” 

Amarantha looked at her brother. “Azriel.”

“Amarantha,” he muttered. 

She walked away, Mila crying as she watched. Azriel felt helpless. He couldn’t make the situation better. A little bit easier, maybe, but never better. He held Mila closely to him as he stood, thanked the guards, and walked outside. 

Mila didn’t say anything else until they were back in the truck.

“Why did mama have to go with those men?” she asked, as Azriel buckled her into her carseat.

“They were guards,” Azriel said, then realized she had no idea what that meant. “They were there to make sure she knew where she was going.”

Mila nodded, slowly. 

“Lunch?” Azriel asked. “I was thinking of chicken nuggets and ice cream.”

Mila clapped. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Chicken nuggets and ice cream healed all. Azriel pulled out of the prison’s parking lot and headed back toward the city. Five minutes later, Mila was asleep. 

Azriel’s phone rang. 

“Hey,” he answered, picking it up quickly, hoping his obnoxious ringtone wouldn’t wake Mila.

“Hey,” Elain said, and he knew she was smiling, which made him smile. “How’d it go?”

“Okay. Could have gone worse,” he said, honestly. “Mila actually handled it pretty well, considering. She only cried and broke my heart a handful of times.”

“It must be hard for her,” Elain said. “She’s a tough little girl, though. And she had you with her, thankfully.”

Azriel shook his head. “You always look at the bright side, don’t you?”

 “I try to,” Elain said. 

Azriel propped the phone on his shoulder. “I like that about you.” She laughed, quietly. “What are you up to?”

“Getting ready for work,” she answered. “Ready to go sell overpriced kids clothes to a bunch of stay at home moms.”

Azriel chuckled. “Sounds fun.”

“Not so much,” she laughed. “But, I’m excited to see you later.”

“Me too,” he breathed. “I thought maybe, if you want, you could stay over...again.”

Elain paused. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Azriel said, trying to pretend he wasn’t ridiculously nervous every time he asked Elain to stay with him. It wasn’t that he expected anything, but he liked sleeping with her, lying with her in his arms. They kept saying they were going to take things slow, and they had, only sharing kisses and lying together, fully clothed, through the night. But, there was something intimate about sharing a bed with someone, no matter what you were doing in that bed. 

Azriel loved that intimacy. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Yeah,” Elain said, softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

~~~~~

“At least the swelling is going down.”

It was true. A few days had passed since Rhyasnd’s incident with Tamlin, and he was able to see out of his eyes more and more as the swelling progressively went down. He had the day off of work, had most of the week off of work, but it sure didn’t make anything any easier. The more time he had off, the more time had off to dwell on everything. Feyre came home on her lunch, every day, fussing over him, even though he claimed he was fine.

And he was fine.

The pain wasn’t so bad. He still looked much worse than he felt. The broken ribs were the worst of it, but it was bearable. And the swelling of his eyes was much better - it was nice to be able to see.

“I thought we could go out tonight,” Rhysand said.

Feyre had just got home not long ago and she was already searching through the fridge, figuring out what to make for dinner.

She hesitated. “I thought it would be nice to stay in.”

“Why?” Rhysand said, trying not to grow frustrated. “I haven’t left the house in days.”

“I just prefer to stay home,” she murmured, closing the refrigerator before opening up the freezer. 

“Afraid people will stare?” Rhysand snapped. “I get I look like shit right now, Feyre, but I can’t hide in the house.” 

Feyre slammed the freezer door shut before turning to look at him, arms crossed. “No. I’m not afraid people will stare. But I am afraid that everyone we pass is going to report back to Tamlin, and he’ll find a way to make things worse.”

Rhysand raked a hand through his messy, black hair. “You act like he’s the head of the fucking mob.”

Feyre’s lips tightened, but she said nothing. She simply opened the fridge, once more.

“Whatever,” Rhysand shook his head. “I’m going out.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not!” she said, slamming a thawed package of chicken breasts onto the counter. And Rhysand instantly felt guilty, because there were tears in her eyes. “Please.”

Rhysand shook his head. “I’m not scared of him, Feyre, and you shouldn’t be either. It’s fucking Tamlin. He can only do so much harm.”

Feyre stared at him. “I just don’t feel like going out. And if you love me, you won’t fight me on this.”

The words were soft, all of her bite gone, her eyes dry. 

“You can’t keep using that,” Rhysand mumbled. “If you love me...You know I do.”

“Too much,” Feyre said.

“Not possible,” Rhysand breathed. “Even though you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Feyre’s eyes rolled. “The only pain in the ass here is you.”

Rhysand pushed himself off the couch and walked into the kitchen, Feyre watching each of his steps with narrowed eyes. When he reached her, he took her face into his hands and planted his mouth on her forehead. “I know.”

This earned him a smile. She traced the black designs inked across his chest. “It has nothing to do with you, with how you look. I’m just not ready to go out yet. I feel violated. And, yes, I feel scared. I know you can handle it, you can take care of yourself and all that, but I’m not ready to get another call, calling me to the hospital because you were knocked unconscious.” 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pushing her hair back. “We can stay in. I’ll help cook.”

Feyre arched a brow. “You’re going to help me cook?”

“I can cook.”

“We both know that’s total bullshit.”

Rhysand barked a laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

Feyre stilled. “What?”

“I’m making you dinner.”

“That’s not what-”

“Sit back and relax, Feyre, darling. I’ve got this.” 

With a look of pure uncertainty, Feyre sat down by the island, hesitantly, and folded her hands together. “Can I at least-”

“No.”

“But I-”

“Nope.”

Feyre scowled. “Fine. But I’m going to sit here and judge you the entire time.”

Rhysand grinned, grabbing a bottle of wine from the stand and a glass from the cabinet. He poured it, the glass filling halfway, and slid it to Feyre on the island. “Enjoy.” 

“Enjoy watching you burn everything?” Feyre asked, fingers pulling the glass of sweet white wine toward her. 

“Would it help if I were naked?”

Feyre howled. “Although I wouldn’t mind, I prefer you don’t jeopardize my favorite part. If little Rhys were to get burned, I’d be heartbroken.”

“Little Rhys?” he grinned, pulling out a bunch of asparagus. “Is that what we’re calling him now?”

“What do you usually call him?”

“I don’t know,” Rhysand said, shrugging. “Something that sounds a little more dangerous than Little Rhys.” 

Feyre sipped her wine as she watched Rhysand cut up the raw chicken. “Like what?”

Rhysand laughed, tossing the cut-up chicken into a skillet. “I don’t know. Maybe Bruce. Or Wolverine.” 

Feyre nearly spat out her wine. “You want me to start referring to your penis as Bruce?” 

“You’re right,” Rhysand hummed. “Definitely Wolverine.” 

Their night went on like that: nice, easy, light. He did everything he could to make her laugh, to make her smile, to make her forget about Tamlin, her fears, her discomfort. 

To her surprise, Rhysand didn’t burn their food. And to both of their surprise, it actually tasted pretty damn good. 

After they ate, Rhysand did the dishes, no matter how much she protested, saying that he needed to relax.

He was tired of relaxing.

With a little more wine, her protests died down, and after Rhysand was done cleaning up the kitchen, she dragged him down the hall, to his bed, where they made love until Feyre was sleeping, soundly.

Rhysand watched her sleep, admired her soft snoring. 

He hated Tamlin for making her scared.

Rhysand couldn't live like that, Feyre could live like that, full of fear and paranoia.

It seemed Rhysand would have to do something to end it, once and for all, sooner rather than later.

~~~~~

“Hey, Bartender.”

Nesta’s eyes snapped over to the other end of the bar, where Cassian sat, grinning.

“Come to get drunk on a weeknight?” She asked. “Don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Bright and early,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Whiskey.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “It’s always whiskey.”

“Of course it is,” Cassian agreed. “Be nice to me, though. You don’t want me to leave you a shitty tip.”

Nesta snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, watching her lean over the bar, toward him. “I promise to give you a good tip. And an even better tip, once you clock out.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed as his grin widened. 

“Fuck off,” she muttered, but was unable to control her smile.

Cassian laughed, but Nesta had frozen halfway to fulfill his request, because the door had opened, and someone new had walked in. He caught Nesta’s eye and walked toward the bar, sitting close to Cassian, only a stool away.

“Beer,” he said, grinning. “Whatever’s on tap.”

Cassian had seen him, too. Of course, he had. There weren’t that many people there, and he’d sat right by him. Nesta shook it off, grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey. She slowly walked back to Cassian and set it down in front of him.

Cassian didn’t touch it.

He was looking at Tomas.

~~~~~

tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty  @starkovsnesta​   @redisriding​  @photofeesh

@mariamuses​   @tswaney17    @amaranthas-whore​   @awesomelena555

@danika-defendyr​  @rachaels14 @faequeenaelin​  @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn​

@hashtolanashoba  @poisonous00​  @chemicha @samotita​

@mynewdreamwasyou​ @humming-asong​  

@candid-confetti @awkward-avocado-s​

@my-fan-side @queen-of-glass​  @stars-falling​

@ifangirlninja  @sleeping-and-books  @burritowithfeels

@morebooks-pls @kindofawalkingpoem​

@sannelovesreading @empressnesrynfaliq​

@halstudies @sleeping-and-books​ @alwayss-reading​

@amren-courtofdreams  @b00kworm​

@wifeofchrishemsworth​  @booksstorm​

@goldr0ses @blackjacks-donuts​

@humanexile  @over300books​

@booksbooksbooksworld  @starrynightsbooks​

@girl-who-reads-the-books

@mis-lil-red

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@emilyrose111294​

@negativenesta​

@argentumstella​

@itsme-malin

@flora-and-fae​

@feyrethedarklady​

@starryandbooks​

@gingerglides​

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@6255igntm​

@littlehoneyybee

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@awkward-avocado-s​

@aelin-rowan-whitehorn​

@julemmaes​

@regular-nessian-trash​

@ugh-avila​  @awkward-avocado-s​

@superspiritfestival  @the-dark-swan​  @girlgotattitude448​  @eversincebeirut​

@midnightrose-reader​  @lord-douglas-the-third​  @thestarguidingyouhome​

@empress-ofbloodshed​  @starkovsnesta​

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[meepmorpperaltiago]

The Secret

Aka my attempt to write Derry Girls fanfic because oof I’ve been hit hard by hyperfixation with it recently – anyway enjoy :)

They should’ve known that it would come out eventually. And in a suitably chaotic fashion too, considering the track record of them and their friends.

It had all started not long after the president’s visit, when Erin’s heart had soared to new, impossible heights as he’d proudly declared that he was a Derry Girl, one of them, forever.

The feelings that they’d both truly started to notice when they’d been stirred up as he’d acted as her knight in shining armour on the night of the prom, finally came out in full, glorious colour that same evening.

They’d all slept over at Erin’s that night, celebrating his decision to stay well into the night. But both James and Erin had shifted uncomfortably in the huddle the group always tended to form on such occasions.

They were both tightly wrapped up in thoughts of each other. Whilst he was unable to scrub away the image of her heartbroken face when he’d told the girls he was leaving, she couldn’t stop thinking of how she couldn’t imagine her world without him, how she’d only truly realised in that moment that she didn’t want to hide how she felt any longer.

In their restlessness, they’d both untangled themselves and headed downstairs.

He’d greeted her with a shy “hey” and she’d waved back, both of them not wanting to say why they were really there.

But the second they looked up at each other, a conversation had passed between them. They’d shared a long, loaded look that said “this is real. And I feel the same way”.

The feelings that they’d pushed down for so long crackled and fizzed, golden sparks cascading across their chests until, finally, finally, they came crashing together.

Almost a month of warm looks, sneaking off to hurriedly snog in shadow slanted corners and holding hands under tables when the others weren’t looking later and they still hadn’t told them.

They hadn’t meant to turn it into a big secret, but first they’d wanted to figure out if this thing between them would last and then they’d been frightened that their friends would be upset that they’d kept it a secret. And that was without thinking of the reaction they could have to them becoming a couple in the first place.

Things had been going pretty well secret-wise, until this fateful morning on the bus home from school. Michelle had spent the entire day trying to persuade Erin to go out on a double date with a guy she fancied and his friend. And at this point, Erin was starting to run out of excuses.

“Come on Erin, he’s such a ride! And his friend’s ok too, why won’t you just help me out?”, Michelle now says, flopping back into her seat and sighing dramatically whilst stamping her foot in frustration.

“I’m just... I’m just not interested in seeing anyone at the moment”, Erin responds looking out of the bus window, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“Oh I assumed it would be because of you and James. Are you not together anymore?”, Orla says curiously, finally tuning into the conversation, having been preoccupied by her fingers all day.

At that, everyone snaps round. And stares. And stares.

Whilst Orla wonders what she said to make everyone pay attention, Clare is the first to speak after what feels like an eternity.

“Oh my god, oh my god, you guys are? You’re... oh my god”, she says with her head up against the bus window and her hand on her forehead.

“Calm down Clare, she’s just being Orla”, Michelle responds. “Like Erin would ever want to ride James”, she adds with a laugh.

Any chance that Erin and James have to respond (and any chance James has to defend himself against the last thing Michelle said), are swiftly disrupted by Orla dragging out something that Erin definitely didn’t know she had: Erin’s diary.

She reads it aloud in a casual tone, as if she isn’t revealing her friend’s biggest secret.

“This is different to John Paul or any of the others. This feels solid, real. He’s so kind and sweet and I love his curly hair and I get a whole army of butterflies flying around whenever he so much as holds my hand. And he’s such a good kisser too, I love it when he–“

With that, Erin swiftly grabs the diary back – but the damage has already been done.

“Christ, I think I’m gonna boke... you and James? Are you serious? Why?” Michelle says.

“Well Orla did just tell you why...” Erin responds. The look Michelle gives her in response tells her that that wasn’t the right thing to say.

Trying to calm the situation down, Clare pipes up again.

“I mean it’s a bit weird and I do have some concerns about what’s gonna happen if you break up, but I guess... if you’re really happy together then I’m happy for you”.

She smiles affectionately at them at the end of her mini speech, taking both their hands.

“Thank you Clare”, James says giving her hand a squeeze.

Michelle sits in silence for a while, as if she’s thinking long and hard about the revelations that had just come out. But then she speaks too.

“I mean it’s still fuckin’ weird, but if you really like each other then I’m happy for you I guess”, she finally says.

As they’re stepping off the bus, James stops Erin with a gentle touch.

“Did you really write all that stuff about me?”, he asks with the warm smile she’s grown to like (possibly even love) slowly for months now.

She backs away slightly, blushing before shyly confessing “yeah, yeah I did”.

He grins, then kisses her softly, not caring who’s watching (and entirely unaware that the others are trying to look away).

[nestasgalpal]

Folklore (Nesta Archeron Fanfiction)

The lakes

This fanfic is pure Nesta angst. Each chapter is inspired by a song from Folklore, as if Nesta was composing/playing/singing the song while having the moment I narrate in mind. This first chapter was inspired by The Lakes, which reminded me to what Nesta might sing to her friend Claire.

“Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die/ I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” meaning the true form of their relationship, and “A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground/ With no one around to tweet it/ While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love/ And insurmountable grief” being about how she misses not only her but how she made her feel.

I would like you to listen to the son after you read the chapter and check for yourself if it makes sense. The piece she sings in the begining of the chapter was also inspired by this cover of Sodier, Poet King.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Nesta’s voice was like silk as she sang to them. Elain and Claire were dancing together with their feet on the edge of the pond to the rythm of the song, and Nesta was reclining against a tree close enough for them to use her music as their own personal orchestra. The summer afternoon breeze stirred their dresses, and the sun made Nesta’s blond hair shine like gold.

There will come a poet Whose weapon is His word He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Her sister and her friend started singing the last verse with her. It was a well known poem, an all time favourite for the Archeron sisters and now also one of Clare’s even if it was only because of the memory she would keep of their summer afternoons, the three of them together.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai... oh

Their village was too cold and too close to the Wall for troups to come in the winter or even in autumn, but at least one made an apparence during the summer, and the three girls went to see their spactacles in the plaza. Nesta and Clare were 16, Elain a year younger, and boys were starting to look at them with a special shine in their eyes. A young musician had fallen in love with Clare this year, and the girl, who wasn’t very fond of the boys she had at her disposal in the village, had enjoyed the way the rad-haired musician followed her around. He wrote a poem for her, admiring her short brown hair and olive skin, and ultimetly had asked her for a kiss, which Nesta’s friend had been delighted to give.

Her first kiss.

Nesta had never had one.

That was the topic of the day. How did it taste? And what was one supposed to do, anyway? Were you supposed to stand there and be kissed or was it perhaps more difficult than that?

“I’ll show you” Clare had offered, tired of Nesta’s questions.

With a chucke, Clare cuped her friend’s face and pressed her lips softly against Nesta’s. She was delicate, careful and sweet, and Nesta knew right in that moment that no other kiss she receibed in her lifetime would compare to that one. When they separated, Claire’s eyes were dreamy, while Nesta’s were muzzy. Both of them laughed nervously, their faces still close and Clare’s hands still caressing Nesta’s cheeks.

They broke apart when Elain cleared her throat, mad she had been forgothen in the pond. Claire laughed and let Nesta’s face go to stand up and run towards the other one. She extended her arms and Elain took her hands to run back to Nesta together.

The three of them sitted in the green grass, trying to cover their heads with the shadows the trees projected. The meadow was full of daisies and dandelions, an the pond’s water was clear. That’s why Nesta’s favorite season was summer. It rarely rained, so the dirt in the pond’s bottom wasn’t shaken by it and the surface didn’t become muddy.

“So... Elain” Clare’s smile was hussy and big, like she knew she was about to get some good gossip “Soldier, poet or king... which one would you pick?”

Usually Nesta didn’t feel comfortable talking about boys. Not yet. She kept it to herself so she didn’t look childish, but she still dreamed one day their father would gain back their fortune and she would be able to find a better man than the ones she could find in the village. But this time it was different, since it was just the three of them picking a character from a song. It was just an inocent pick. There were not soldiers, no poets and no kings there, so it meant nothing.

“Easy” said Elain “The poet is for me, the soldier for Nesta, and-”

“And the ruler for me?” Clare compleated, excited and already laughing at the idea. “I don’t know about that...”

Elain, who enjoyed this kind of games a little more than Nesta did, noded, also smiling, but with a glimpse of superiority in her gesture. “The ruler is for Feyre, dear” Her words came out sweet, but with a clear intention: to put Clare in her place. Her sister loved their friend as much as Nesta did, but sometimes she could get a little jelous if the two of them came too close and left her behind. Nesta coud understand that, it was only fair, so she allowed her to say this kind of things from time to time just to make her happy.

This time Elain was speaking the truth, though. Since they first heard the poem, the soldier had been for Nesta, a knight to protect her in her adventures. She used to play with the idea of the ruler as her pick, but she would never be satisfied with a throne that was given to her, she would rather take it herself. That’s why she needed a knight and his armies: to help her.

Then Feyre, who was the youngest and hadn’t got mutch of a personality when Elain and her became obsesed with the song, would marry the ruler and be queen. Easy.

“Finally, I would marry the poet, who, just like your musician wooer, would write a thousand poems and songs about my beauty and kindness” Elain explained to their mutual friend the story they had made up a long tme ago, when their mother was still alive and they enjoyed singing.

Now Nesta hardly ever did it, only when she felt comfortable enough to do so. With her sister and her best friend, she did, she felt safe.

“Nah, that would never work” Clare complained, taking Nesta out of her daydreaming.

“What part?” she asked.

“You and the soldier, silly!” she thought it was funny, but Nesta didn’t. The oldest of the Archeron frowned. “You could never be happy with a soldier, Nes. They work for kings, so his loyalty would be to someone else, not to you. Never to you.” Clare, who was sitted in the grass and leanin in one hand, lay down on the soil and rested her head on Nesta’s lap. “I know you, Nes, and you need someone you can always rely on, otherwise you won’t be satisfied. You don’t need the kind of safety a sword provides, you need reliability, and you would never find it in the soldier”.

Nesta’s brow was still frowned. She really didn’t like talking about boys.

“What do I need, then?”

“A poet, Nes” Clare’s voice was so  blissful she couldn’t help but relax her face. She ment no harm, she was not trying to ridiculize her by bringing up the subject. Clare didn’t even know she was so insecure about it. “You need a sensible soul to feel your pain and help you carry it. You have a wonderer soul yourself, so it would be a perfect match.”

“Is Tomas your poet, Nesta?” Elain asked, bringing herself back to the conversation. This hurt Nesta a little more, since Elain did know about it, but she let it go. It was just one of those moments of jelousy she felt sometimes.

“No” she replied. Tomas was none of the three. Not even close.

“Promise me, Nesta” Clare asked. She had her eyes closed and the breeze fluttered her short hair in Nesta’s lap. Years later, The oldest Archeron sister would go back to that exact moment and wonder if she had actually been that beautiful or it was just her brain tring to keep a good memory of her dead friend. But in that moment, she actualy saw her as a sleepy angel, gifting Nesta her heart. A blessing. “Promise me you won’t settle with the soldier and you will find a poet who makes you trully happy and is devoted to you”.

In that moment she thought her friend had Tomas in mind as “the soldier”, but now Nesta fantasized with the posibility of Clare talking about Cassian. Had she known something? Like a vision sent by a forgoten god from the mortal realm? What would her friend think if she saw her now, alone in a tent, cold, curled up in a tiny matress in the Illyrian Mountains, lost in her own pain because she had wanted to trust in the soldier’s word and he had failed her? He told Nesta they would have time and he would always find her, but Claire was right and his loyalty had never been hers. What had she done? What would she do from now on?

“I promise” a youg version of herself answered.

Clare smiled and pulled Nesta’s face close to her to kiss her again.

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 22: Repercussions

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: After Montserrat's birthday, there is much to deal with and discuss...if she and Rafael could ever find a way not to end up arguing each time.

When Montserrat finally returned home, it was the morning after her birthday. By that point, many things had happened. She, for one, no longer wore her heels and had no desire to see anything but her bed. Kara, on the other hand, had gotten over her initial anger with Montserrat for leaving her birthday party unannounced. Course Montserrat didn't know that since she was just getting there.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Kara smiled in amusement as she let Montserrat into the apartment. "Doing her walk of shame, I'm assuming?"

"Shut up," Montserrat said, rubbing slightly at her temples. She threw her heels across the living room.

"Bet it's a lot harder to do when you forget your bag at your party, huh?" Kara folded her arms, outright ignoring the look of death Montserrat was sending her way. "Oh don't be looking angry with me. I'm enjoying this and you know what? I'm gonna enjoy this next part because serves you right."

Montserrat rolled her eyes, intending on shutting Kara out for the rest of the weekend until she heard a voice down the hall.

"Okay, seriously, you can't take up all the hot water like that, doll," Sonny emerged from the hallway, clearly wearing the same clothes he had the previous night which only led Montserrat to conclude he'd spent the night here. "Oh, Montse's come back," he said like nothing.

"Noooooo!" the ginger screwed her eyes shut.

Kara smirked. "Told yah!"

"Are you teasing her?" Sonny asked with a frown at the same time Montserrat once again yelled "no!" Sonny gave her a look. "Why are you screaming?"

"Are you seriously asking me that!?" Montserrat scowled. "You're here! From last night!"

"Well, yeah-"

"Shhhh!" she frantically wagged a finger at him. "If I don't see it! It's not real!"

"Oh, it was real," Kara said, walking by and dragging a hand across Sonny's back before smirking up at him. "And it was fantastic." Sonny couldn't help look proud of himself, really.

Montserrat loudly shivered. "Nope! I'm not seeing anything!"

Kara laughed. "Sorry girl, but if you got laid, so did I."

"Would you please stop saying that!" Montserrat turned away with another shiver. "Maybe if I'm lucky, the ground will just swallow me up right now."

"Okay Kara, I think she's suffered enough," Sonny said, though looked fairly amused himself.

"Yeah, alright. That's what she gets for skipping out on a party I planned for a month," Kara moved on and patted Montserrat's arm. "Least she got some action in the end." She made her way to the couch and after a moment so did Sonny.

"Oh my God," Montserrat shook her head. "I did not do anything, Kara. Gosh."

"Then where were you?"

"At Casey's."

"Casey's? What were you doing there?"

"Wallowing in pain." Montserrat blurted the words, still feeling said pain but with even more anger than the previous night. It was a struggle giving Casey some crappy excuse but luckily Casey hadn't asked a lot of questions.

It was then that Kara started noticing Montserrat's demeanor. She looked angry, but there were traces of misery. "Montse, what's wrong?" Montserrat tilted her head to the side, mouth completely shut for the moment. "Did something happen?"

"...you could say that," Montserrat's voice shook and that itself was rare.

Both Kara and Sonny exchanged glances with each other, with the latter believing Montserrat wouldn't talk if he was there.

"Maybe I should go," he resolved and started getting up when Montserrat called for him not to.

"Don't bother. I'm not going to ruin your morning."

"But someone obviously ruined yours," Kara's eyes looked her best friend over. "What happened?"

Montserrat passed a hand down her messy curls and heaved a heavy sigh. "Screw it." She could really use some support and she was sure that Kara would be a good candidate, as well as Sonny. Montserrat walked over to the couch and sat herself in-between Kara and Sonny, now wearing a big pout on her face. "So, as it turns out, you were right Kara."

Kara blinked. "I was? I mean, of course I was. But if you want to be more specific about what I was right about...you could." She looked over Montserrat's head to see Sonny and shrugged in confusion.

Montserrat's shoulders slumped as she sighed again. "I left your party to go have drinks with Rafael."

Kara's eyes blinked rapidly before a smile took over her face. "All is forgiven!"

"No!" Montserrat said flatly, putting a dent into the woman's growing excitement.

"Hey wait a minute," frowned Sonny, shifting on the couch to better face Montserrat, "I called him and he shouted at me that he didn't know where you were because he hadn't even come."

"He's a lawyer; he's a liar," Montserrat said pointedly. "I told him not to say anything."

"Why?" Kara asked.

"Because I wanted to avoid your schoolgirl squeals."

"Well...that's offensive."

"You want to know what's offensive? The rejection I got." Yup, there was the bitterness starting to settle in. Montserrat ignored the looks she was getting because she needed to get this all out in the air once and for all. "He gave me a necklace-" she gestured to the ballerina necklace sitting around her neck.

Kara gawked at it. "Oh that's pretty!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. So I asked him if he could help me put it on…"

"Oh that's sneaky," chuckled Kara. "I do that too."

Now Sonny frowned at that admission. "Hey...you do. That's a trick!?" Kara's smirk was answer enough.

"I didn't mean it to be a trick," Montserrat clarified, getting more frustrated as she retold the story. Just thinking about the ending brought back the rage she felt but even more of despondence that came with it. "I was really only trying to put it on but then...then I don't know. I felt things. I turned around and he was just...he was just there and I...I couldn't help it. I kissed him."

"Go Montse," Kara nudged the ginger on her side.

"Yeah, and then he said it wouldn't work." Montserrat huffed. "It was unprofessional. There's an age difference, the way we behave with each other…"

"What?" came Kara's sharpened snap.

"Yeah!"

"The nerve!"

"Well," Sonny knew what he was getting himself into the moment he spoke up. Both women threw him similar looks. "I mean, a guy like Barba? Yeah. That was bound to happen."

"What?" frowned Montserrat. "He was 'bound' to reject me? I thought you two were hell-bent that we should get together-"

Sonny quickly raised his hands to show he came in peace. "No, wait a minute! That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

Kara's face behind Montserrat was one warning Sonny to be careful.

"I was just saying that, being who Rafael is, he would say something like that. I never said he meant it," Sonny visibly relaxed when he saw Montserrat's glare begin falter. "It's just his natural self to be cautious."

"What, so I'm going to ruin him and his career?" Montserrat's face contorted to offense. this conversation is not making her feel better, unlike what she thought it would.

"No, but maybe he thinks it could ruin yours. Look, bottom line is, you're the only one who was there so you know if he meant whatever happened between you two."

"...when did you become my best friend?" Montserrat asked with a low chuckle. Sonny honestly couldn't answer that, but he had a small laugh himself when Montserrat hugged him.

"Right here guys," Kara said on the side, feigning offense she was being left out.

~0~

The weekend seem to pass by quicker than one would have liked, and before Montserrat knew it she was back at SVU beginning the week with a possible gangrape. Luckily for her, no one except Sonny knew what happened that weekend, so it was pretty much a regular Monday at work.

Their victim was a 16 year old girl found at dawn. After a series of events, they discovered her real identity but at the same time losing her at the hospital. It was clear she didn't want to talk to the police, but that wouldn't stop them from finding her. They searched for the young girl, who turned out to be named Clare Wilson, not Erin Fogarty as they previously believed.

"So, our vic is Clare Wilson. Sixteen. Raped by a VIP guest at the strip club where she works," Nick went over their pinboard they were compiling of the case.

Sonny crossed paths with Nick to come point at a picture of an older man who barely had hair. "But the club owner, Perry Cannavaro, won't give up the rapist's name."

"She's 16," Montserrat read over their details from the table. "How the hell did she get into that job in the first place?"

She was looking over their initial photos of Clare and found the girl reminded her of her niece, Juliana. While Juliana was 15, not 16, the fact was her niece could've ended up in those clutches if the wrong things would've happened. Even the way Clare spoke and acted was that of a normal teenager. The rebellious pink highlights in Clare's hair was proof enough.

"She ran away from her mother's abusive home," Olivia said.

"We're going to bring her into a group home and make sure she's safe there," Amanda after putting down her desk phone. "Just settled everything with the head."

Fin strode into the room looking annoyed and angry. "Just talked to Perry again and, shocker, he's not talking. He definitely knows who the rapist is."

"Shocker," Sonny made a face.

"Alright, Liv, we can move Clare down to the group home today," Amanda got up from her desk, ready to do that.

"Right. You and Novak go move Clare to the group home. See if you can jog her memory about the rapist," Olivia pointed the two women forwards. "The rest of us have our work cut out for us."

~0~

Clare has very little to take with her, but she still ready to go with it. She held her box of clothes and followed Montserrat and Amanda down the blue hallway of the group home.

"Now this guy definitely knew Perry," Amanda was telling the girl. "You sure you can't remember anything about him?"

Clare shook her head. "No."

"Perry thinks that this will all go away," Montserrat rolled her eyes.

"Guess he knows."

Montserrat looked back at the girl with sympathy. It was clear she was used to things going wrong in her life. "Well, we're not dropping this, Clare, okay? We're gonna keep putting pressure on Perry. We don't just go away."

Clare shrugged. "Whatever. I'm out of there." She was led into a small room with one window at the end. "This place- they seem okay."

"You know, Clare, you want to turn your life around, they'll support you here," Amanda hoped Clare would get the message. "Stay clean, stay sober. Make curfew."

"I guess it's time." Clare looked out the window and saw a cherry blossom tree on the other side. "I have a tree outside my window. That's nice."

"We'll check in on you, okay?" Montserrat said just so that Clare knew they wouldn't abandon her out of the blue. And, it could also serve as a reminder that they would be looking in to see if she was making good on her and devar to get clean.

"Clare Wilson?" a woman in an officer's jacket strode into the room, followed by another officer. She held up a badge for them to see. "Hudson County Sheriff Department."

Montserrat exchanged a look with Amanda, neither of them knew what the hell is going on but they were sure it wasn't going to be good.

"Detective Rollins," Amanda introduced herself and showed her badge, prompting over to Montserrat who also raised her badge. "That's Detective Novak. How can we help you?"

The Hudson officer didn't look the least fazed by the detectives. "Arrest warrant for Clare Wilson." She motion to the other officer with her to take Claire into custody and then raised the warrant for Amanda and Montserrat to see.

Monster had snatched the warrant from the woman to look at it herself. "What the hell for?" Her eyes quickly skin the papers to see.

"Credit card fraud and grand larceny."

"New Jersey, though!" Montserrat quickly said.

"She worked in New York. And a Jersey City strip club."

Amanda blocked the officer was trying to take Clare away from them. "Hold up. You got the wrong girl."

Clare, on the other hand, didn't look like she was confused by it. "No, I worked in Perry's other club too. He made me overcharge customers-"

Amanda quickly waved a hand in front of the girl's face to stop her from going any further. "-stop talking, Clare. And ask for a lawyer. Not one word."

All Clare did was shrug her shoulders as they took her away.

~0~

"You know, the fact that Perry has connections with the Hudson Police department does not bode well." Fin sat at his desk with a weariness that was slowly creeping from one detective to the next. Their case was about to get even more difficult, because it wasn't already.

"Whoever this rapist must be top notch for Perry to go through these extents to lock up Clare," Montserrat leaned back in her chair. She had the tip of her pen locked between her teeth in a relentless chewing.

"Whoever he is, Perry thought he could play us so let's give him a good game," Nick resolved and would definitely give the man a good match if given the chance.

"They're back," Sonny pointed towards the door where Amanda and Olivia were crossing through. "You think Barba gave them something good?"

"Gotta be by the looks of her," Fin's comment made Montserrat look back to see Olivia, Amanda, Rafael and a dark-haired woman none of them knew.

Montserrat briefly crossed gazes with Rafael and, despite her efforts, she had to glare. However, Rafael just took it without one of his own. He thought he deserved it. In his mind, he did.

"So, what happened?" Nick curiously eyed the dark-haired woman.

"U.S Assistant Attorney, Connie Rubirosa," the woman introduced herself and held a hand to shake with them. "I'm here to help you with your case."

"I didn't know we needed help from the feds," Sonny said, giving a look to the rest of the squad.

"Well your friend called me over," Rubirosa nodded her head at Rafael. "Lucky he did because we've been looking at Perry Cannavaro for a while now. He's part of a ring that targets runaways. Puts them to work in his clubs, gets them hooked on drugs, and then they owe him."

"And the feds can't shut him down?" asked Fin.

"Well, we're trying to. The problem is that a lot of the vics go back to the life. Disappear, decide not to testify. What can you guys tell me about Clare Wilson?"

"She has had it hard, but has hit rock bottom," Amanda answered. "I think she knows that these clubs are a dead end."

"Will she make a good witness?"

"She wants to turn things around. She's credible," Olivia reassured the woman.

"Maybe that's why Perry pulled some strings and had her arrested."

"She's being arraigned later today in Hudson County. What do you know about Prosecutor Masconi?" Rafael inquired since he knew they'd have to deal with the prosecutor soon.

"Well, he's got a big ego. Bills himself as a reformer," Rubirosa said sourly, as if she'd already had the pleasure of meeting him. "But he's not gonna want to look like he's protecting a sex trafficker. Tell him that Clare is testifying in our grand jury case against Perry. See if that'll hold him off until she does."

"Okay, Benson, you up for a drive to Jersey?" Rafael asked the woman.

"I'm Acting Squad Commander. I can't just get up and leave. These guys might destroy my office," Olivia jerked a thumb at the others.

"Heavy lies the crown."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him then pointed a finger at Sonny. "Carisi can join you. Should make a lovely trip, don't you think?"

Now it was Rafael's turn to roll his eyes. At least he could get amusement somewhere in his life at the moment. he was sure all he needed to do was look at Montserrat for a full minute for her to want to kill him.

"Actually, Sarge," Sonny started getting up from his seat, "I think it would be good for Clare to see someone she originally talked to. Montserrat, for example."

Montserrat's dark eyes snapped up to the man. And if Sonny wasn't in public with her, he would've feared for his life. If there was something Montserrat Novak was good at, it was her death glares.

It seemed Rafael knew that about her because right now he was giving Sonny a 'be careful look'.

"I like it," Olivia agreed. She was blissfully in the blue of everything and it showed.

"But Liv-" Montserrat turned her chair to brunette, "-I think I can stay here and do more digging on Perry and his clubs."

"No, I think Sonny's got the right idea," Olivia shook her head. "Besides, you said Clare reminded you of your niece so who better to offer support than you?"

"...is that what I said?" Montserrat gritted her teeth together. "Damn."

There were only a few things to prepare in order to leave for Hudson County and while Olivia, Rafael and Rubirosa worked it out, Montserrat had her go at Sonny out on the street.

"It's like you and Kara are hell-bent on making my life miserable!" she shouted without a care of who heard her. "First, it was reassuring me that Rafael did indeed have feelings for me and then when that failed-" she said with a spat, "-you move on to make it impossible to avoid being in a room with him? What the hell!?" she frantically pushed Sonny's chest, not that the man would fight back.

"It was not my intention, Montse. I just think avoiding isn't going to get you anywhere," he said, irritatingly calm. "Same for Barba. You need to get it out-"

"-I did!" Montserrat snapped. "That's why I'm here in this awful situation!"

"It's a misunderstanding and I will help even if you hate me for it."

Montserrat's face fell flat. "Oh no, I am going to K-I-double-L you! And the only reason I spelled it out is because we're standing outside a precinct!"

Sonny took it all with a nod. Oh boy, Rafael was in for a ride if this did happen to work out for them. Sonny had come to really like Montserrat but there was no way in hell he could ever date that woman.

"We have 2 hours until Clare is arraigned," Rafael walked up to them, though clearly kept a distance from Montserrat. "You're going to drive with the sirens on, right?"

Sonny nodded. "What did you think? I'll go bring the car around."

"And I will go help," Montserrat attempted to say after Sonny had left, but at this point she didn't care if it was a logical excuse.

"No, Montserrat, wait," Rafael had grabbed her arm but she sent him a glare that immediately made him let go. "Sorry. I feel like we need to talk-"

"-but what about?" she pretended to be confused for a brief moment before returning to her angry state. "I got your message and I'll follow through. Don't worry, I would never want to be a hazard for your job and your career."

"That's never what I said," he frowned.

"How would you know? You walked out on me!"

Point one for Montserrat.

"I didn't mean to, I was just…" Rafael didn't know what it was like being speechless, and much less what to do when he was speechless. He felt incredibly guilty, not to mention hurt himself.

"You were just what?" Montserrat folded her arms over her chest. She waited for him to say something but when he didn't, she shook her head. "I tried to listen to Kara and be understanding but the fact you can't even string three words together is disappointing. And frustrating."

"It's not easy, Montserrat," he snapped. "I don't know what to do, alright? I've never been in a situation like this."

"So you're clueless, what a surprise!"

"Would you stop acting like a child? Maybe if you calmed down we could be civil and have a conversation-"

"-about what!?" Montserrat's snap was loud enough to grab attention from some of the officers passing by. "Sorry," she said in a sarcastically hushed tone, "I'm jeopardizing your job again."

"I did not say anything about that and you damn well know it!" Rafael's snap was on the same level as hers. If they'd been thinking more clearly, they would've noticed that even to argue they were the same. Of course they would clash. "When I talked about our jobs, I meant that they would clash. We would have to disclose to our bosses if we were serious about things. I never meant that you would harm my career. If anything, I would harm yours."

Montserrat wanted to continue being angry, but it became harder to do with that statement. It was the same thing Sonny had told her. "What?"

"I've been at this sort of job for 10 years so believe me I have pissed off more people than I can count. You let them know you're dating me and I guarantee you that you'll encounter obstacles for promotions."

"That's ridiculous-"

"-No it's not," Rafael spoke over her. "You've only been a detective for a couple years, right? No more than five?" Her silence was answer enough. "And it's not just that, Montserrat. There's the age difference-"

Montserrat groaned. "Oh my God, it's not like it's that much. It's literally only 6 years so you can throw that excuse away. You're just piling on excuses. I'm, regrettably now, 30 so you're going to have to take my word when I say I'm a big girl who can say 'yes'."

"How about the way we are, then? You and I...we're too matched. We bicker at least once every time we're in the same room."

"Have you ever thought that the reason we act the way we do with each other is because there's some feelings?"

The way Rafael sighed and looked away told Montserrat he had, but he was choosing to ignore it.

"The reason we're always so frustrated with each other is because we'd rather kiss than argue?" Montserrat waited a minute for him to say, but he just shook his head in rejection. "You know, for someone who's-" she raised her fingers in the air to do quotation marks, "-apparently 'a lot older than me', you're the one acting pretty childish right now."

"Don't do that," he warned but she pointed a finger at him.

"You are the one who's blatantly ignoring everything I'm putting on the table. As much as I hate to admit it, Kara was right. I was desperately trying to ignore the fact that I like you but here's me, acting like an adult, and saying what I feel. I don't understand why you're doing this to me and to yourself."

"I am so sorry, Montserrat. But believe me when I say: you can do a lot better than me," Rafael's soft tone was so uncharacteristic that it froze Montserrat. "I listed the logical facts that would interfere with whatever this would be, but don't even get me started on me."

Montserrat was caught off guard by the sentimental admission. And she would admit it if anyone asked her. Rafael was never one speak about himself, and much less what he thought about himself. Perhaps, she should've addressed that first and avoided a lot of the yelling she did. Who knows, if she could get the chance to talk about it with him...his 'logical reasons' may not even turn out to be the real problem.

But right now, time was up.

Sonny had returned with their car, so it was time to go. They were, after all, on the clock.

~ 0 ~

One day later, SVU was so stumped in their case. Clare had been arraigned and detained for pending trial in the Hudson County.

"How long is the New Jersey trial backlog?" Olivia asked Rubirosa for some type of reference. They were gathered in her office, listening to the failed visit to the county.

Rubirosa crossed her arms and thought about it for a moment. "She could be in for a year and a half."

"The county prosecutor and his wife, the ADA, they went through the motions, but Judge Dolan shut us down, hiding behind the fig leaf of Jersey's stringent anti-fraud statutes," Rafael sourly said, indicating he was still pretty irritated the judge had shut him down first before they began any process.

"They want to claim protocol, I can too," Rubirosa declared, letting her arms fall to her sides. "There's a judge I work with on the task force. I can get him to write up a court order stipulating that we need Clare in New York to testify in a pretrial hearing."

"Meanwhile, where are we with Perry?" Rafael looked at the rest for some answers.

"How do we say 'nowhere' without making it sound bad?" Amanda leaned forward to see the responses from the rest of her co-workers.

"Why don't we make some calls, get the pressure going," suggested Fin.

Olivia seemed to like the idea because she was going back to her desk, directly for her phone. "Let's hit him with an alphabet soup."

"Meanwhile, we'll get started on that writ process," Rubirosa resolved and headed for the door with Rafael. "Might get it done today if we're lucky."

"We can only hope," Rafael muttered behind her.

As they walked out of the office, Montserrat and Sonny were coming into the bullpen. The two were bickering since they'd come from a joint meeting with Kara that, unsurprisingly, turned out to be all about Montserrat.

"You're an idiot and that's final. Kara got it too," Montserrat let her bag drop on her desk. She looked over her shoulder and saw the DAs leaving together and even though she tried - like really tried - she couldn't help feel that ridiculous notion of jealousy. "They're pretty close, huh?"

"Oh, don't do that, Montse," Sonny shook his head. "They're friends. Co-workers."

Montserrat still rolled her eyes even though she knew it was a possibility.

~ 0 ~

Perry was in distress. His entire club had been shut down at 10 o'clock promptly. He had every agency at his doorstep, invading the rooms of his club.

"What the hell is going on!?" he came to stand in front of Olivia, seething with anger.

Olivia was all too happy to answer him. "So far, we have CSU in your VIP lounge and the Health Department and lmmigration going through your kitchen."

"And your sushi bar here..." Fin stopped by to point at a higher floor where a woman laid on a table with sushi placed over her like she was the table, "You better hope they don't find any human contamination on that raw fish." He flashed a smile at Perry then continued on his way.

Olivia raised her fingers to continue listing who else was visiting the building. "On their way is OSHA, New York City Department of Taxation and Finance, ATF."

Now it was Montserrat who stopped by them, and she was smirking as widely as could be. She may or may not be loving the fact she could cause some pain to someone else, and even better when they were actual scum. "You might as well shut this place down and give the girls the weekend off. Scuse me," she continued walking and followed Amanda down the cruddy hallway.

"Excuse me!" Amanda shouted as she ripped open all the room curtains on one side, while Montserrat pulled the other side's. "Scuse me, fellas. These nice folks here are from CSU they're gonna be executing a luminol check for fluids on these couches."

"Any of you been here before?" Montserrat's eyes flickered from one guilty man to the next. Most of them raised their guilty hands. "Yeah, figures. Swab 'em all!" She stepped aside so the group behind her could get started on their work.

Out in the main room, Perry was still complaining. "Well, this is harassment!"

"What, you think you're a big guy, getting your buddies in Jersey to lock up a 16-year-old rape victim?" Nick had the pleasure of standing in front of the man's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Who are you paying off? Masconi? Judge Dolan?"

Perry blinked at him then looked at the rest of the squad's waiting figures. "Wait a minute. Is this all because I didn't give up the name of a patron? Huh? All right, all right. Say I give him up, all right? Is this circus gonna go away?"

Olivia scoffed and turned over a clipboard she'd been holding, listing all the agencies she'd brought with them. "Oh, that's not my call. You see, once these agencies get involved, it really takes on a life of its own. Take Mr. Cannavaro in."

"What?" Perry looked both ways as Sonny and Fin grabbed him from behind. "Hey, call Arnie!"

"Hey Liv," Amanda moved beside the Sergeant, "Rubirosa got the writ expedited for Clare's release. Barba wants to serve the papers to Dolan first thing tomorrow morning, Jersey City, 8:00 AM."

"It is Amanda's turn," Montserrat said before Olivia got any ideas. She didn't feel prepared to face Rafael again without wanting to argue.

"Okay, go with him," Olivia agreed easily. "Make sure that Clare sees a friendly face when she gets out." Amanda nodded her head, but there was something else she was planning on doing tonight first.

[harrys-oh-anna]

So Tired.

So Tired. Part 1

Warnings: Angst, but Happy Ending is on its way.

Tip: Just imagine that this is Harry’s reaction to your last sentence. (MY   FEELINGS)

Plot: You join Harry on tour but he seems to have other prirorities.

“Don’t say such things. You know I never would, I love you.” He whispered, trying to get close to you and taking your hand. It broke him that you really thought that bad about him.”

“No, you don’t. And it doesn’t matter”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since Harry has stopped talking to you. You had no idea why. The last month was stressful for him, you understand it totally. You have been travelling with Harry for his tour around Europe, trying to support him and to spend some time with him before he’s off to Australia. You saw what he must bear. Always giving his best to show his fans what they mean to him. With him leaving soon again, you two decided you both needed this month to spend as much time as possible with each other. YOU thought that touring with him would mean that Harry would clung to your side as always, being his clingy self. Touching you, caressing your shoulder, giving you little pecks from time to time when you were talking to Mitch or Sarah, hugging you from behind and whispering sweet nothings in your ear which always made you chuckle. You were so happy when you stepped onto plane with him for his show in Paris, but now you were devasted. He has shut you out since day one, giving you no chance to interact with him at all. In the morning he was up way before you, already working out in the hotel gym. The first few days you waited for him to return from his morning workout to grab some breakfast together, just to be disappointed by the fact that he already went with his band mates without telling you. You brushed it off back then, not letting it bother you. Harry has been a morning person for years, always being up too early for your liking. But as your day kept going this way, him doing stuff without you, not even caring where you were or with whom, you’ve got confused. As soon as you were at the venue, he was gone again. Whenever you stepped into his dressing room, hearing him laughing with Mitch and Adam he instantly stopped as soon as his eyes met yours, looking at the ground and leaving the room sooner or later. You just couldn’t make up your mind what was wrong with him, being so cold towards you, not even answering you in a proper way when you tried to put up a conversation. Just getting a “no” or a “yes” out of him. Everyone around you started to notice as well that something rubbed him the wrong way, which didn’t improve the situation either. You talked with Clare about it. You got close to her, loving her caring being and her attentive way. You enjoyed her company, though she couldn’t think of a reason for Harry’s strange behaviour. He never mentioned anything towards her. She even tried to broach the subject again, but he just brushed it off, switching the topic as soon as your name was mentioned. And even though this all was embarrassing for you, even humiliating to fight this whole passive aggressive thing Harry had with you in front of the whole tour stuff, the nights were way worse. You felt like a ghost, like he just looked through you, as if you were invisible. As soon as his concert was over, and you were rushed back to the hotel or to the next city, you just hurried behind Harry. Trying to keep up with his long legs sprinting. You felt like a little child, whose mother just dragged it along grocery shopping, always pulling on its hand. But when Harry and you stepped into your hotel room, it was unbearable. With no one around the silence felt even heavier on you shoulder. Every little noise seemed too loud and the tension was thicker than an iceberg. Harry jumped under the shower, while you changed into your night grown. Usually you would go into the bathroom as well, brushing your teeth, changing your clothes and chattering with Harry about his show, but this felt way too intimate these days. Harrys hasn’t seen you naked in weeks, not that you would have seen any of his skin either. You were used to the fact, that Harry slept in just his boxers, cuddling you close to his chest, where you laid your head down. Hearing his soothing heartbeat, while he ran his fingers through your hair and you traced his butterfly tattoo. This was your habit before you fell asleep. He calmed you down. Pressing little kisses on your head and assuring you how much he loved you. These moments were your Harry moments. You didn’t have to share him with anyone. It seemed like it was just the two of you and you slipped off to sleep with ease in his arms. You missed these times. Nowadays he laid down far away, his back facing you, not even touching you with his feet or toes, like he used to do. He once told you that he did that to show you that he was there, even when he needed space. Always making sure to assure you that he’d never leave your side. But this was yesterday, now he didn’t say a word, not even a good night. And so he fell asleep soon and you stayed awake with an aching heart. You could feel it breaking every night, while silent tears rolled out your closed eyes, slowly rocking you to sleep.

Today wasn’t any different, you woke up late at afternoon to an empty bed once more, feeling more than exhausted of this short night as you checked the time on your phone. You decided to get up and get ready to drive to the venue. As you arrived you didn’t even search or ask for Harry, knowing that he was in no mood to meet you anyway. You just sat down in Clare’s dressing room, pulling out your phone again and mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, while waiting for her to come back from soundcheck. You hummed along to the muffled sounds of Harry’s setlist as it suddenly hit you. You scrolled back up, unsure if this photo, you just skipped, really showed Harry. You stared blankly at the screen. No, it really was him. It really was Harry sitting at a nice Café dressed all in black with his white Adidas trainers, his longer curls pinned out of his forehead and sunglasses resting on his nose. It really was Harry sitting at a nice café with a blonde girl dressed in a short flower dress, laughing while touching Harrys arm. You knew her, you knew that Harry knew her, and it ate you alive. She was a so-called friend of him. Why he liked her, you had no idea. But you had an idea why you didn’t. She always was after Harry, wanting him since the day she met him. She was pretty and she used it in every possible way, she was just ruthless. Harry met her in LA a few weeks after you started dating and he told her instantly after her flirtatious attacks, that he indeed had a girlfriend. She just wasn’t bothered by it. She even drunkenly told one of your friends that one day she will get him into her bed and that you are just a phase until he realises that he deserves someone better, someone who fits him. Someone like her. You told Harry how bold she was to say all these nasty things about you to one of your best friends and how mean it was that she wouldn’t respect you in anyway. Harrys just listened and tried to calm you down by finding excuses for his friend’s behaviour and it was the first time you felt really hurt by Harry for not taking your side and not minimizing his friendship and contact with her. Over the time you just accepted her and hoped that she would leave your life sooner or later, you never saw her as a thread though. You trusted Harry and with the way he treated you, you were sure that he would never betray you in such a way. His soul was just too kind. But as you look down onto this picture of your boyfriend, looking so happy at this girl, gleaming at her, your trust was gone. You had no idea for how long you stared at this picture, while creating scenarios in your head which finally put all the pieces together. Maybe Harry was acting this strange because she really got into his pants, maybe she kept her drunken words and was right, that you were just a phase. A phase with which he had no guts to break up and so he just lets her drown in sadness while he is out, having fun with his affair. You felt how tears dwelled up in your eyes. You just couldn’t take it anymore, this was enough. You loved him so much, but you couldn’t keep up with all these things anymore. This really was betrayal, him going out and leaving you alone in the hotel room once again to go out and meet this menace, even if he didn’t cheat on you, this whole thing is wrong. He could have told you like before, but he decided against it. And so, you decided against staying here at the venue for any longer. Without telling anyone, you called a cab bringing you back to your hotel. Big tears were running down your cheeks by the time you went out the door and sat down in the cab.

You woke up by a loud thud of your room door closing. You slowly opened your puffy eyes. You haven’t really stopped crying since you arrived in your hotel room. But you were so exhausted from everything that happened the last few days that you fell asleep instantly as your heavy head touched the comfy and soothing hotel pillow, lulling you to sleep. The whole time you were alone in the hotel room, it was quiet. And to be honest you enjoyed it, it helped you sorting out your thoughts and helped you coming up with a decision. A decision you wanted to share so bad with Harry, you couldn’t keep it inside anymore. It gives you a feeling of sadness but also of relief. At least you didn’t feel numb anymore.

“Hi Harry” you tried to approach the conversation that you really needed to have and couldn’t wait any longer. You weren’t even sad that Harry hadn’t called you to ask why you haven’t been at his concert, you were used to it. It didn’t even bother you anymore that all his bandmates have asked you, being worried about you. Everyone but him. He didn’t even answer, just rested down and shuffled underneath his covers.

“Harry, did you hear me?” you tried once more, slowly sitting up on your side of the bed.

“Yeah, how couldn’t I?” he mumbled under his breath, rubbing his temples like your voice would give him migraine.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“Y/N, are you serious? I’m tired. Let me sleep and let’s talk tomorrow.” he sighed.

“Well, talking to you seems a little difficult with you running away from me as soon as you open your eyes, right?

“Not now, Y/N” he hissed.

You stand up from your side of the bed, turning your body to him. “No Harry, this is the perfect moment. Because I can’t take it anymore. It’s always about you, but right now, It’s about me. Because I feel like shit, you treat me like shit. And I’m done with it. I’m done with you treating me like I don’t exist. So please tell me what I did, so we can move on from it. Just tell me.” You whisper screamed. Not even daring to raise your voice.

Harry moved around, standing up as well and really facing you since forever. But his stare was cold and there laid a fire within. But it wasn’t a good one, more of a dangerous one, which let you know that he wouldn’t explain himself or even tell you he’s sorry. No, he was ready to fight this down and you as well.

“So you’re really accusing me for being selfish while I’m on tour working from day to night. I’m very sorry that I can’t baby you like a little stupid child. You’re a grown-up woman. You can do things on your own. Stop being so damn clingy and touchy. It’s disgusting.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Disgusting?! “This has nothing to do with me being clingy, Harry. It’s not normal to leave your girlfriend alone all the time in a hotel room. You brought me along, so we could spend some time together, but all you did was ignoring me.”

“Oh, excuse me, but as far as I can remember you were the one begging me to bring you along. I never wanted you to be here with me. This is my thing. I don’t expect you to drag me around your university as well, right? So why should I?”

“Are you even listening to yourself? You’ve been such an asshole and now you’re blaming me. I can’t believe it. Who are you even.”

You don’t even know what he answered to your statement. All you know is that he started to scream and shouted things at you while his head turned redder and redder. Tears were streaming down your face in nonstop and you were perplexed that you still had tears left. You sat down on your side of the bed, your back facing him, while he turned silent, heaving heavy from all the screaming he did.

“Have you finished?” your voice sliced through the deadly mood. He nodded which you couldn’t see, but he wasn’t able to raise his voice once more. You didn’t even expect an answer from him, you just wanted to tell him what you decided a few hours ago.

“Good, because I’m so tired. I’m so damn tired from this fighting, this day and from you. I’m so exhausted. I can’t sleep anymore. I can’t bear sleeping next to you, I cant bear seeing you. Looking at you made me once so happy, I couldn’t stop smiling. When I had a hard day at Uni, all I needed to do was to look at a picture of you and my mood was lightened. You were my rock.” You chuckled sarcastically, as you remembered the picture you had to see of him earlier today. “And now I feel sick. I see someone wearing your tour merch on the street and I feel so sick and sad, because all I see is your face and how you’ve looked at me recently. Stone cold. So cold. You didn’t even ask why I haven’t been at the venue today. You don’t care anymore and that’s alright, I guess.” You stopped talking and Harrys swore his already hurting throat just went narrower. Of course, he knew that you haven’t been there, but he asked his bandmates and they told him you didn’t feel well and left.

“Why have you left then?” he squeezed out through his tight throat.

“I saw it on Instagram. You’ve met Chelsea today and you looked so happy. So crazily happy and touchy. You didn’t even tell me that she was in town. Not like you were telling me a lot lately. But, you know, you left me this morning alone to meet up with her. With everything that has happened between us, this has hurt the most. I don’t know for how long you have been seeing her. I just want you to know that it’s okay. People fall in and out of love. I don’t even want to know for how long this thing between the two of you has been going on or even if there is a thing between you. You could have told me, but you didn’t have the guts to break it off with me before starting it with her. And that’s the biggest betrayal ever.”

Harry rushed over to you. “Y/N, don’t. Do you really think that I cheated on you? Do you want to tell me that you really think I would hurt you like this? I would never ever cheat on you. Don’t say such things. You know I never would, I love you.” He whispered, trying to get close to you and taking your hand. It broke him that you really thought that bad about him.

“No, you don’t. And it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going home. I already booked a flight for tomorrow. You don’t have to be concerned about paying for it. I already did.”

Harry heared you words through ringing ears and as soon as they reached his brain he tried to take your hand, but you flinched away and Harry swore he could feel his heart break.

“We can talk it through, you can’t leave me right now. You just can’t. I do love you and I did not cheat. Do you hear me? We have some problems, I do agree with that and I wasn’t fair with you. But we can make it. We always did, and we always will.” he stuttered while shaking his head no.

You didn’t even look at him as you stood up and closed your eyes while you kissed his cheek and saw his hands falling down lifeless onto his lap.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

--------

Part 2

A/N: This is only Part 1! I hope you enjoyed it. And leave me a message if you want. Please be kind, I havent proof read it yet. Lots of love and remember to Treat People with Kindness.

[lol-misantlery]

Yuletide 2019

Hello! I am misantlery on ao3.

Under the read more are specific details about what I want for Derry Girls, Mad Men, Queen’s Thief, Into the Spiderverse, Fleabag, and The Eagle.

General Likes

PINING, awkwardness, people being inexplicably fond of each other, breaking up/making up fic, people being emotionally repressed, denial, FORCED INTIMACY (pretending to be dating, bed sharing, huddling for warmth, trapped in elevator/closet/room together), amnesia fic, first times, hurt/comfort, trust issues, hooker aus, robot aus, happily ever afters.

I am good with g-rated or nc-17 rated fic, but if you’re comfortable writing porn here are some things I am into:

bad decision sex sexual experimentation fun/goofy/‘bad’ sex sex pollen intimacy issues

General Dislikes

rape/non con, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, mundane aus, soulmate marks aus, 24/7 BDSM, non canonical major character death, harm to animals, unhappy endings, mpreg, issuefic, harm to children.

If you want to know some more about what i’m into for each fandom/want some prompts, then keep reading but don’t stress about following each prompt to the letter or anything. They’re here for inspiration!

Why are you so into The Purge as a scenario???

Listen, this took me by surprise too. Explaining it now makes me sound like a crazy person. But I will try.

The Purge is a horror movie franchise, set in a dystopian near-future America where all crime is legal for one day a year, including murder. Pretty dark, edgy, violent stuff! I am not especially interested in the dark and grim sociopolitical realities of this situation, in case my prompts don’t make that clear. I am here for the absurdity, and in the case of most of these fandoms, for the weird and hilarious contrast between my requested fandom and the over the top violence of The Purge. You don’t even need to watch any of The Purge movies, because let’s be real, I don’t care about the world building or logistics here, and I’m not interested in a true crossover so much as I am in borrowing the “all crime is legal for a day” scenario. If any of the Purge prompts speak to you, read some wiki summaries and have at it.

Don’t feel obligated to write those prompts if these aren’t scenarios that appeal to you! And if you do write them, please, don’t make them super dark. Again, the appeal here is the absurdity, not the grim violence of it all.

Derry Girls: Erin Quinn, Clare Devlin, Michelle Mallon, James Maguire

Let me start off by saying you don’t need to include all four in a fic if you don’t want to! I’m perfectly happy with any configuration you end up putting together. If you want to include all the gang, that’s great too! I love everybody nominated so feel free to go wherever your imagination takes you.

I love how the group will spend all day making fun of each other but always come together when it counts. I would definitely enjoy you keeping with the show and doing something with that. Everyone going up on stage to perform with Orla and James realizing that he belongs as a Derry Girl are two of my favorite scenes.

Prompts:

Erin/Clare: I would love a fic where Erin and Clare really do go to prom together instead of the whole thing with Mae and John Paul. Maybe they go for real, or maybe Erin goes as her fake date to support her and then they have to continue the charade after prom. Erin would definitely do a lot of research and throw herself fully into being the best lesbian she could be, which obviously would include practicing kissing Clare a whole lot. I love a good fake dating fic that has the couple accidentally catching feelings. I also love the idea of everyone thinking she’s just making a statement and her dad being the only one to realize her feelings are for real.

I also love the idea of them bonding over a crush on Ms. De Brun, either after the first time or having her roll back into town and Erin going full Dean Pelton “This better not awaken anything in me.”

Michelle/James: I’m very into their combative but loving relationship. Michelle asking him to stay in the finale *__* I’m also very much into introducing a cousinfucking aspect but if you aren’t, don’t worry. I also enjoy how they are in the show, so if you keep their relationship at that level I’ll still be perfectly happy. If you are into it, Michelle totally gives off a “stop making love to me while I’m trying to fuck you” vibe and I would really enjoy seeing how annoyed she would be to realize he was more than just a ride to her.

Michelle gets caught in a time loop and has to figure out how to escape it. Maybe she lets James leave Derry all those other times and the version we see is the one she got right. Or maybe James and Michelle both get caught up in a loop and try increasingly ridiculous schemes to get out of it.

Or maybe Michelle’s mom gave up James’ room when she thought he was leaving with his mom and now James and Michelle have to share a room. They have to deal with all the feelings the finale brought up.

If you are more inspired by one of the other configurations please go for it. I loved James being instantly on Clare’s side when she came out. Finding out how Michelle and/or Erin and/or Clare’s friendship started would be fun. I liked James coming through for Erin when she got stood up. If you are more inspired by James and Erin please keep it platonic. I like them just as friends. I’m definitely open to James, Michelle, and Erin being queer/bi/etc if you’re interested in including that in any of these prompts.

Something based on this post: https://v1als.tumblr.com/post/187672633662/meanwhile-in-the-other-derry . If this appeals to you please go as wild as you want. Fic about the Derry Girls bullying a clown to death? Awesome! Fic about Mary Quinn beating the shit out of a dumb clown with a frying pan or Sister Michael being incredibly unimpressed by It? Love it. If you want to go to an angsty place I’m into it but I would prefer it doesn’t end with anybody perma-dead. I'd be equally happy with ships or no ships for this. No need to bring in the rest of the It characters unless you feel like it.

Mad Men: Bob Benson, Pete Campbell

This is probably my forever yuletide fandom! The show’s been over for a while now, but I still have an enormous soft spot for the love story of Bob and Pete, and would read any number of variations on it.

I don’t mind if you ignore certain parts of canon (s7) or go canon divergent, you can also follow canon if want (Bob shows up in Wichita??) GO WILD.

Shipping Bob/Pete began as a joke for me, but I do ship it for real. I like that Bob is all *_________* about Pete and Pete is simultaneously disgusted and intrigued. He might not be gay, but he’s definitely into someone who’s into him.

Also, if you just want to write about Bob I’d be really interested in his past and what the whole “manservant” deal was. We pretty much know nothing about him and I’d be interested in some backstory, but I’m not exactly looking for Bob/OMC PWP. In case it seemed that way!

btw, https://vimeo.com/132033248 is a supercut of all Bob/Pete scenes (pw: kneetouching). Enjoy!

Prompts:

Fake dating: The CEO of a big company is secretly gay and Pete thinks pretending to be gay will form a bond of solidarity that will give him an edge, but the CEO mistakes this for interest and Pete scrambles to come up with an excuse to get out of doing anything gay and he comes up with, “I have a lover! You may have met him…”

They go to a gay bar lolz and awkwardness ensue.

Pete molds Bob into the Perfect Ad Man and falls for him in the process. Basically “My Fair Lady” with a hillbilly and sodomy.

Groundhog day fic: Pete has to go through the same day again and again, tries to get help from Ken, Peggy, etc, and then comes to the realization that only Bob believes him.

Bob is a conman who starts out trying to seduce Pete as part of a long con, but ends up falling in love.

what if Bob is a spy who mistakes Pete for his contact because Pete compliments his tie? what kind of spy and mistaken identity shenanigans could ensue?

What if Bob and Pete + the Purge??? I feel like Bob would do well. He’s got secrets. Maybe one of those secrets is a facility with weaponry. Also, sodomy wasn’t legal in New York until the 1980s. What if someone in the office awkwardly asks Bob what he’s going to do during the Purge and Pete is appalled, because how uncouth! Everyone knows you don’t ask people what they’re going to do during the Purge! And then Bob makes some veiled comment about how he always spends his Purges banging dudes, and Pete is horribly Intrigued because sex stuff is never a Purge thing he’d thought of.

Queen’s Thief - Megan Whalen Turner: Gen, Attolia

I love these books, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that I love Attolia, Gen, and their relationship best. I didn't see the twist where Gen confessed his love to Attolia coming at all the first time I read it and I frantically read to the end to make sure that everything turned out ok. As soon as I got there, I flipped to the front and started again. Somewhere between that moment and when I reached that scene on the stairs again, they became one of my all time OTPs. To be honest, it was probably when she cut off his hand.

I just love them so much, with how ruthless Attolia is and how clever Gen is, and all I want is a fic that focuses on them and their sort of messed up dynamic and that will be enough. I also love Kamet/Costis and would be happy to see something about them in addition to some Gen/Attolia content. I'm open to canon divergent AUs, but, please, no AUs where Attolia doesn't cut off his hand.

Prompts:

Part of what I love so much about this pairing is how terrifyingly competent they are together, and what a good team they make. So I’d love a fic about something like, what if some of their barons are stupid enough to think that Gen and Attolia can be turned on each other? Obviously Gen and Attolia have to go crush them together.

They have to go on some kind of diplomatic visit to Eddis or Sounis or maybe something further afield and absolutely nothing goes as planned. Again, show me how terrifyingly competent they are! Or just go for the lolz: how hilariously wrong can things go, and how do Gen and Attolia deal with it? You can also go the action/adventure route: do they have to get themselves out of a sticky situation by fighting or sneaking around?

Speaking of sneaking around: I’m also into the many possibilities of the scenario where Gen teaches Attolia how to sneak into his bedroom for once. Sexy, funny, emotional, all of the above, I’m into any of it!

Part of the messed up dynamic that I love with these two is how fear and love and guilt are all mixed up together for them, after Attolia cuts off her hand. So I’d be really interested in anything about how/if Gen gets over his fear of Attolia in bed or not, but maybe definitely at least in part through sex.

And because I’ve got a soft spot for Costis and Kamet: Gen and Attolia attend Costis and Kamet's wedding, in disguise or not. Maybe it makes them think of their own wedding! Maybe everyone just reflects sappily on True Love! Or maybe someone gets up to shenanigans!  It’s up to you, dear writer!

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse: May Parker, Olivia Octavius

"My friends call me Liv," Doc Ock says to Miles. And then when she walks into Aunt May's house, May says, "Oh great, it's Liv." I would really love to read a lot more about what's going on with that. Sex is not a must, but I do ship them and anything about a romantic relationship would be great. If you're not into that, then I'd love to read more exploring their dynamic in general -- May is so fondly exasperated and not remotely surprised, but they both immediately go to the mat.

Prompts:

Pre-movie college backstory. Were they rivals-turned-lovers in college? Friendly but disinterested roommates who spent all their time playing science cloak-and-dagger games before realizing over spring break that their nemesis was their roommate? 

Pre-movie Spidey parallels backstory. May was clearly supporting Peter as he developed into your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and Octavia has been... what? We know she's CEO of Alchemax during the movie -- was she promoted? Is she the founder? I'd love something exploring their parallel paths, May as a behind-the-scenes string-puller and Liv as a mad scientist, with Peter in the middle working to counter Liv more explicitly. 

Post-movie, MIles goes to visit Aunt May and finds Liv there. They have a really awkward tea. 

Post-movie, Liv tries to make a comeback. May rolls her eyes and gets to work.

Purge!AU: What happens to the two of them on Purge night? Does May reluctantly go out to try to stop whatever Liv is up to this time? Do they end up working together for some reason? Do they declare it amateur night and just order a pizza?

Also, I would be interested in a fun fic where May and Liv both end up sort of awkwardly mentoring Miles because Miles and Liv end up in a classic supervillian-superhero team-up against some other big villain or disaster.

Fleabag: Fleabag, Priest

So I watched all of Fleabag in a weekend fueled by pizza and beer and loved all of it. But, not gonna lie, what really got me to sit down and finally watch the show was all this talk of a hot priest romance going on in season 2. Others may never believe Moriarty from BBC Sherlock could bring it like that, but I saw the light.

I’m absolutely fine with shippy fic for this fandom. If you want to go down the hardcore priest fucking road then go wild, but I did love everything about the show. Fleabag herself and all of her issues, Claire (and her haircut) and everyone else. Whatever you can write for me that captures how heartbreaking and funny the show is would be great, I'm sure.

Prompts:

With all this talk of the cool Pope maybe considering letting priests marry let’s pretend that the Vatican really does that and now priests everywhere can get married. How would Fleabag feel when she sees the news on the telly? How would the Priest? Imagine them bumping into each other after the news come out.

I think one of the most interesting things about season 2 was the Priest knowing when Fleabag was breaking the fourth wall. What if the fox is his personal fourth wall that no one sees but Fleabag that he can’t leave behind until he deals with his shit? 

Purge prompt: Brexit finally happens and the new PM decides to try this Purge thing the Americans have been doing every year. How would Fleabag fare in the purge? Would she stay locked inside with her family having to fight off Stepmother, who’s down to do some purging herself and is scarily good at killing people? Would she go off to hunt Martin? Maybe fucking a Priest doesn’t count if it’s during purge night.

The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth: Marcus Flavius Aquila, Esca Mac Cunoval

I love this stupid movie so much.I love Marcus, Esca, and Marcus/Esca and would prefer them shipped. UST/pre-slash is okay, too, if you'd rather not write a romance, but please at least leave me the hope that it's going to happen!

What I really love about Marcus/Esca is how even when Marcus is the one who holds official power over Esca as his owner, Esca is always the one with the power in their relationship because Marcus is so desperately into him. I love Marcus pining for Esca but being too honourable to do anything about it, while Esca is too angry at himself for pining for Marcus to do anything about it. I also enjoy Marcus having Roman issues about wanting Esca to fuck him and I don't care if they're not entirely historically accurate. I would just be very into Marcus having very rigid ideas about sex between men and struggling with wanting Esca to fuck him and Esca helping him overcome that.

Some general things about them that I love, both in the movie and in potential fic: cultural miscommunications, or just them worrying enough about miscommunication that they don't even try. Marcus having such utter blind trust in Esca. Esca having to relearn how to let somebody care about him.

Prompts:

That said, my first request is PWP. /o\ I would really, really love a Seal People Made Them Do It fic. Maybe the Seal Prince wants Esca to prove Marcus is his slave, or maybe there's a general boning festival going on and it'd be weird/suspicious for Esca not to participate, I don't know (and not too concerned with historical accuracy on this one). But I'm very into the danger element of they have to fake it for their safety/survival and the intimacy element of them understanding each other with few or no words. Like from Esca's POV, he gets that Marcus understands and consents, or from Marcus', understanding that if he doesn't want to go along with it, they can try to kill their way out. And, okay, if Marcus is a little ashamed of being into it, I am very, very there for that. :9

I would also love a roadtrip fic! The movie clearly ends with Marcus setting Esca up to choose their next adventure, so what does he choose? I don't have a lot of specific plot ideas for that, but I would definitely love to see them on another journey together, maybe hitting all the fun roadtrip tropes, like huddling for warmth in the woods and there being only one bed in their room at the hospitia. 

Or, if you're feeling up to something fun and weird, a Purge AU. Honestly, Ancient Rome is a setting that seems oddly suited to hosting the Purge and I would love to see it either played relatively straight to dark and dramatic effect, or humorously deconstructed, with Esca exasperated by more let's-kill-people Roman nonsense.

I would also really be into fic from Esca's POV, holding Marcus during the surgery and contemplating letting twitch and die, and then ~looking into his eyes~ and feeling sick with himself for having such a thought about the man who saved his life, even if he is a Roman asshole. Perhaps followed by all the times Esca could have had him killed or let him die and deciding not to because HONOR until he realizes no, actually, I just really, really want to bone this dude. And then he follows up on that realization, in whatever romantic form that takes.

[adriata-archive]

Breakaway (ACOTAR College AU)

Masterpost | AO3

Summary: College couldn’t have been going better for Feyre - she’d gotten a full ride for cheerleading, her grades were stellar, and she had an amazing boyfriend whom she adored, even if she was getting a new roommate at an awkward point in the term. But when she learns about the circumstances surrounding this friendly stranger’s room reassignment, Feyre realizes that her idyllic life is little more than a nightmare in a pretty disguise.

Chapter Two

“I’m Morrigan, but you can call me Mor.”

Feyre cleared her throat and sat down at the edge of her bed for only a brief moment before she stood up again. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to move in so...I wasn’t expecting you to move in tonight. Do you need help unpacking?”

Mor smiled over her shoulder, and Feyre could easily see the beauty she was, regardless of the bruise gracing her face. “That’d be great, thanks.”

Feyre nodded and glanced at the closet, quickly assessing how Mor was organizing her clothes before she started to help. One look told her that her roommate wasn’t organizing her clothes, and the realization made Feyre chuckle. When Mor noticed, she grinned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m big on the whole ‘organized mess’ thing.”

“You don’t say,” Feyre said dryly.

Mor laughed, her features lighting up as she did so, but Feyre couldn’t help but think she was holding back.

“Sorry I got dumped on you in the middle of the quarter,” Mor said abruptly, tossing a pair of heels into the closet without waiting to see where they landed. “It was a pretty sudden thing, me moving back into the dorms.”

It was hard to keep the curiosity out of her voice. “Oh?”

From the way Mor grinned again, Feyre figured she hadn’t done a very good job.

“Yeah,” Mor said, her smile faltering as she talked. “I was living in one of the apartment buildings nearby and just...didn’t want to anymore. Couldn’t, I guess, which you could probably tell already, because of, you know. My face.”

Feyre knew better than to let any of the sympathy she was feeling show. If Mor was anything like her, she wouldn’t want anyone’s pity.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here,” Feyre said, carefully keeping her attention on the sweater that she was folding. “Clare was great and all, but she was pretty quiet.”

“I am the opposite of quiet,” Mor reassured Feyre.

Feyre laughed and, having gone through all of the boxes, busied herself making Mor’s bed. “Seriously, though, it’s nice having you. I don’t have a ton of girl friends outside of the cheer team.”

“You’re a cheerleader? I know a couple of people on the team too! I haven’t talked to them since…” Mor’s voice trailed off, and she frowned before continuing. “But yeah, I can imagine that takes up a lot of your time. It doesn’t seem like there’s much room for socializing outside of practice.”

“Yeah, well,” Feyre said, her own voice quiet, “whatever free time I have I spend with my boyfriend.”

Feyre went back to tucking the comforter in, and missed the way Mor reached up to brush her fingers over her bruise when she said the word ‘boyfriend.’

-/-

That Friday, Velaris University’s football team lost the big game against their rival school.

It was a close game, with only a three point difference between the two teams, and an impressive feat, considering how half of VU’s starting line-up had been injured and they’d had to resort to putting in some of their second string players. It was a disappointing defeat, especially when they had been one field goal away from evening the playing field.

The cheer team, however, had excelled at the match. Their stunts had been flawless, their dance routine impeccable, and they’d had no trouble getting the crowd to cheer along with them. It wasn’t surprising, though. Everybody knew that VU students and alumni attended games to watch the cheerleaders - everybody, that is, except for the football team, and Feyre intended for it to stay that way.

A party had been planned to celebrate VU’s victory over Prythian State, a party that had quickly been converted to something more along the lines of “let’s get drunk and pretend this never happened” once the final score had been announced. Feyre wanted nothing more than to change into sweats and an oversized hoodie after her shower, but Tamlin insisted that he had to be at the party or risk losing face with his team, and strongly implied that if she was a supportive girlfriend, she’d go with him.

And so, Feyre found herself alternating between rummaging through her closet looking for something suitable to wear to a jock party, and cursing herself for not doing laundry the other day.

“You can borrow my clothes if you want,” Mor offered, already standing up. She stuck her head in her closet for a brief moment and emerged with a pile of clothes in her arms.

Feyre gaped as Mor tossed the pile onto her bed, sorting through dresses and skirts with practiced ease. “Oh, I couldn’t -”

“Don’t be silly. What are roommates for? Some of this stuff is too small for me now anyways, but it should be perfect for you. If you find something you really like, feel free to keep it.” Mor held up a black skirt and a pale pink top and tossed them at Feyre. “I don’t suppose you have thigh high boots to go with that?”

“Um, no?”

Mor laughed and spared Feyre’s feet a glance. “You look around my size. My shoes will probably be a little big for you but I don’t think it’ll be by much.”

“Bless you, honestly,” Feyre said, wriggling into Mor’s clothes as her roommate watched in amusement. “I need to carve out like three hours tomorrow to do my laundry. How do you always manage to have clean clothes?”

“Well, I could credit it all to my online shopping problem, but my cousin has a washer and dryer in his apartment and he can’t say no when I show up to do my laundry because we’re family.” Mor grinned and handed Feyre her shoes. “And he never says no to family.”

“God, I wish my sister was like that. I mean, I’m sure Elain would be fine with it, but she shares a place with two other girls and I wouldn’t want to impose. And Nesta definitely wouldn’t let me,” Feyre said, tugging on the boots with a little more force than was necessary.

“You don’t get along?”

Feyre shrugged and moved to the desk that alternated between acting as her vanity and a dumping ground for her art supplies. It took a moment to find the right drawer, but eventually she located her concealer and mascara, and if doing her makeup gave her an excuse to avoid looking at Mor while she talked about her family, it was purely coincidental.

“Elain and I get along okay, but Nesta...we’ve never been that close. Elain thinks it’s because we’re too similar to get into a conversation without arguing, and she probably has a point. But our relationship probably hit a low point last year when I moved out. Our dad finally decided to sell the house, and I don’t think Nesta’s forgiven him. Or me, for that matter.”

“How come?” Mor asked. Feyre paused, though, and she hurriedly added, “I’m so sorry, I’m prying, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Feyre said, laughing a little as she brushed the mascara wand through her lashes. “I don’t really know, to be honest. Our mom passed away when I was pretty young, and out of all of us, Nesta was closest to her. Elain’s in a psychology class right now, and Nesta’s favorite, so she’d have more ideas than me about what goes on in our dear sister’s mind. I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Feyre stood and turned to face Mor, smiling almost shyly. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Mor said with a smile of her own. “And seriously, keep the whole outfit. It looks way better on you than it ever did on me.”

“That’s a lie,” Feyre replied, rolling her eyes. “You look stunning in everything. Hey, do you want to go to this party? The guys are going to be all mopey about losing, but it should still be fun.”

Since she’d moved in toward the beginning of the week, Mor hadn’t left the dorm much, other than for meals and classes. Feyre knew that she talked to her cousin almost every day, but other than that, Mor seemed to have grown into a recluse.

Feyre didn’t know the circumstances around the sudden move-in, and she didn’t want to ask, not until Mor was ready, but she was starting to worry. Mor was sweet, and friendly, and above all, genuine. Feyre would much rather spend time with her than half of the people on the cheerleading team, and said as much when she saw her roommate hesitate at accepting the invitation.

“Yeah, okay,” Mor said finally. “A party sounds fun.”

-/-

Feyre had forgotten how much she hated jock parties.

There was nothing wrong with them, exactly; she didn’t mind the drinking, or the dancing, or the dressing up. But they were always so crowded and loud, full of people she didn’t know, or if she did know, didn’t care for. Mostly, though, Feyre didn’t like feeling obligated to go to these parties, a feeling which Tamlin never bothered to acknowledge.

Mor made it better, though. With someone else to look out for, Feyre almost forgot her own unease as they entered the house.

“You’re late.”

Feyre had to refrain from jumping as Tamlin suddenly materialized in front of her, beer already in hand as he pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She couldn’t help but grimace in a silent apology to Mor; drunk Tamlin was even more free with public displays of affection than sober Tamlin, and that was saying something.

“Tam, this is Mor.” Feyre practically had to shout to be heard over the dull roar of the music and the sounds of people cheering over what seemed to be a particularly intense round of beer pong, and suddenly longed for the quiet and comfort of her dorm room.

“Sattari’s cousin,” Tamlin said, frowning as his attention focused on Mor, who only lifted her chin under his scrutiny.

“That’s right,” was all Mor said before turning her back to Tamlin, unofficially dismissing him. Feyre sucked in a breath at the slight; not on her boyfriend’s behalf, but Mor’s. She had witnessed Tamlin’s wrath on a bad day, but even more than that, she wanted Tamlin to get along with her new friend.

Luckily for Feyre, Tamlin didn’t seem to notice the slight, and simply tugged on Feyre’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

“I don’t really feel like drinking today,” Feyre said, quietly but firmly. “Besides, Mor doesn’t know that many people here. You go hang out with your friends; we’re good here for a while.”

“They’re your friends, too, babe.”

No, they’re not, Feyre thought, but said, “Go, have fun.”

Tamlin didn’t need another reminder, and slipped back into the crowd, only to be immediately apprehended by Ianthe. Feyre snorted, because while Tamlin seemed to think that everyone had ulterior motives when talking to her, he still failed to notice whenever Ianthe flirted with him.

“God, I hate that bitch,” Mor muttered when she realized who Feyre was looking at.

Feyre grinned. “Join the club.”

“I didn’t know your boyfriend was Tamlin Campbell,” Mor said suddenly.

“Um, yeah. Do you two know each other? There was kind of a weird vibe, now that I think about it.” Feyre wasn’t always the best at reading people, but in that moment, she could have sworn that Mor squirmed.

“Sort of. Not really. Not directly, I mean,” Mor corrected, frowning. “He used to be on the soccer team with my cousin, but they don’t really get along.”

“Tamlin was on the soccer team?”

“Yeah,” Mor said, oblivious to the way Feyre glanced in her boyfriend’s direction. “His freshman year, but I guess something happened and he switched to the football team to be their kicker. From what I’ve heard, there was a bit of drama around the whole thing. You didn’t know?”

“No,” Feyre replied, sounding a bit dazed even to her own ears. “He doesn’t talk about his freshman year much.”

Mor shrugged and slung an arm around Feyre’s shoulders, her smile comforting as she forged a path to the back of the house, conveniently putting what looked like the entirety of Velaris University’s student body in between them and Tamlin. “Nobody talks about freshman year. It’s embarrassing to even think about.”

Feyre managed a terse laugh. “Very, very true.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mor said after a moment. “I’m sure it just slipped his mind.”

“For an entire year?” Feyre sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m being a downer. You didn’t come to a party just to play my therapist.”

“No need to apologize. What are friends for?”

-/-

Feyre wandered out to the backyard, alone, arms folded across her chest as she sought some reprieve from the smell of alcohol and sweat filling the house behind her. Mor had run into Viviane, her roommate from freshman year who also happened to be on the cheer team, and had disappeared to catch up with her at Feyre’s insistence. Tamlin had been all but absorbed by the howling pack that was the football team, and Lucien was nowhere to be found, so Feyre was on her own.

It was calming, in a way. Between sharing a dorm and spending time with her boyfriend or at practice, Feyre rarely got a moment of solitude. She loved Tamlin, Lucien, Mor, and even the majority of the cheer team, but after growing up in a cramped house with two older sisters, she had learned to cherish silence.

Feyre tilted her head up to see the stars winking into existence and let out a content sigh. Quiet.

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Feyre felt her spine stiffen at the sound of a clearly intoxicated college male’s voice, but didn’t turn around. If she didn’t turn around, she could pretend he wasn’t there and that he wasn’t talking to her.

“Why the cold shoulder?” The guy, along with two of his friends, approached Feyre from the side, putting her back to a wall of shrubbery once she leveled a glare at them.

“Excuse me, I have to go find my boyfriend,” Feyre said firmly. She hated to use Tamlin as a crutch, but more often than not, specifically mentioning that she was taken was the only way to ensure that drunk jocks got the hint. She moved to brush her way past the three guys cornering her and was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“What’s the hurry? If your boyfriend let you wander out here all by yourself, I think you can chat for a minute.”

Feyre managed to duck out of the grip of the guy she’d deemed the leader of the pack, the one who’d initially approached her, and started for the house again. They let her go this time, but there was something predatory in their gazes as she walked by, something that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She wanted nothing more than to run into the crowd and find Tamlin or Mor - anyone who was a friendly face, but that would take too much time.

Her breathing was growing shallower by the second, cheeks suddenly unbearably warm, and Feyre knew herself well enough to recognize the warning signs of a panic attack.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

What was it that her RA had told her during her freshman year? The one with the sarcastic words but kind eyes who had gone on patrols with Tamlin? If ever there was a time to remember the ridiculous preventative measures she was supposed to take to avoid situations exactly like this, it would be now.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Feyre stopped dead in her tracks, right before she collided with her unintentional savior. She could have sworn that the man in front of her had emerged from the shadows; she had gotten a glance of everyone in the backyard upon stepping outside the house, but not him. She would have remembered him.

It had been ages since her fingers had itched to pick up a brush and paint for pleasure, not for a class assignment. Between working with charcoal and having to create a portrait using pointillism, Feyre’s creative muse had been suffering severely. This stranger, though, made her want to paint.

It wasn’t just that he was beautiful, because he was, he truly was. He was nearly the exact opposite of Tamlin in features, his hair dark and thick, skin somehow tan towards the end of autumn, and eyes so blue they could almost be violet. But there was something more, there, something that made Feyre do a double take. Something that made her think that he, too, had left the party to look at the stars, although the thought sounded ridiculous, even to her.

“Play along,” the stranger murmured, his smile comforting as he looked at Feyre. His expression shifted entirely as he leveled an unimpressed look on her predators. “Thanks for finding my girlfriend for me. I’d hate to think of what would have happened if someone had taken advantage of her.”

The three guys who had been chasing Feyre froze, their heads bent together and voices lowered to furious whispering. She caught the words Sattari and shit several times, and looked at the stranger again.

Hadn’t Sattari been the name of Mor’s cousin?

“Yeah, man, it’s no problem,” the leader of the group said casually. “Glad you found her in one piece.” And then they were all gone.

Feyre let out a breath she hadn’t know she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

The stranger shrugged and tilted his head back towards the house. “Think nothing of it. Better get back inside, though. Do you have someone who can take you back home?”

“Yeah, uh, my boyfriend and roommate are inside,” Feyre said, already making her way back. She paused when she was a few feet in front of her rescuer and added, almost hesitantly, “I’m Feyre, by the way.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Feyre. Rhys Sattari.”

Feyre nodded, once, and smiled at Rhys over her shoulder. “Thank you again.”

“I’ll gladly rescue you any time,” Rhys said, and winked.

Feyre wasn’t sure if it was from relief at being saved from a close encounter or the fact that she had just unintentionally met Mor’s cousin, but as she walked away, she couldn’t get the image of Rhys’s comforting smile out of her mind.

Tagging: @darlingfireheart, @goldbooksblack, @the-book-court, @reallyangryrn, @howtotameyourillyrian, @urbisie, @inez-stark-martell, @who-tf-was-i-before-fandoms, @rkjar1646, @casuallyonearth, @cerridwxn, @musicmaam, @voiceoftheroses, @kickassunicorn, @highladyofthedark, @the-right-way-to-get-lost, @highladyjel, @acourtofsinsandtragedies, @faelightsstarfall, @fucking-winchester-trash, @cohen-theeleven, @thebookbandersnatch

(If for some reason the tags don’t work - which they probably won’t half the time because tumblr sucks - you can track ‘bravebuttercups breakaway’ to keep up with new chapters!)

[lesbianalinex]

Why do u think Cassandra Clare's portrayal of LGBTQ+ isn't good?

Anonymous asked: Why is Casssanderia Clare characters bad representation for LGBT+ characters?

Well… this is gonna be long so, I’m warning you now! Also, this isn’t even half of the reasons why I don’t like her.

And book fans, before you come at me, read this, I will know if you haven’t.

Why Cassandra Clare’s Portrayal of LGBTQ+ Characters Is Problematic, with receipts. 

I’m gonna start simple with the way she handled Raphael being Aromantic and Asexual, technically, this isn’t even canon in the books. She posted it on Twitter. That was it. That was how much she cared. She had an entire story in The Bane Chronicles dedicated to him but still, all it got was a tweet. Which she literally confirmed was just a headcanon. [source] 

In advance, here is basically types of biphobia in general. That I won’t include here, just for the length of the post.

Alec is very biphobic. There are several slut shaming incidents towards Magnus, especially in City of Fallen Angels. A memorable moment that immediately comes to mind is when Alec finds out about Camille and Magnus’ past. I believe this is when Alec finds out about Magnus’ sexuality in Chapter 13.

“We know each other.” Magnus shrugged, very slightly, as if to say, What can you do? “Once upon a time she wasmy girlfriend.” 

[chapter break]

 “Your girlfriend?” Alec looked astonished. So did Maryse. Simon couldn’t say he was unastonished himself.“You dated a vampire? A girl vampire?” 

[another irrelivant paragraph goes here before Alec comes back to the topic]

“How many other people?” Alec asked. “Roughly.” 

Magnus shook his head. “I can’t count, and it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how I feel about you.” 

“More than a hundred?” Alec asked. Magnus looked blank. “Two hundred?” 

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation now,” Magnus said, to no one in particular. Simon was inclined toagree, and wished they weren’t having it in front of him. 

“Why so many?” Alec’s blue eyes were very bright in the dimness. Simon couldn’t tell if he was angry. He didn’tsound angry, just very intense, but Alec was a shut-down person, and perhaps this was as angry as he ever got.“Do you get bored with people fast?”

Now, perhaps Alec is just surprised, but this last paragraph bugs me particularly, because the “do you get bored with people fast” is kinda slut shaming, it emphasises the “bisexuals sleep around” stereotype, and it’s even more problematic that Alec insists on having this conversation in the middle of the Institute, in public.

Then later in the book (chapter 15), Alec brings it up again, in public.

“Good organization,” said Magnus. “I knew the man who founded it, back in the 1800s. Woolsey Scott. Respectable old werewolf family.” 

Alec made an ugly sound in the back of his throat. “Did you sleep with him, too?” 

Magnus’s cat eyes widened. “Alexander!” 

“Well, I don’t know anything about your past, do I?” Alec demanded. “You won’t tell me anything; you just say it doesn’t matter.” 

Magnus’s face was expressionless, but there was a dark tinge of anger to his voice. “Does this mean every time I mention anyone I’ve ever met, you’re going to ask me if I had an affair with them?” 

Alec’s expression was stubborn, but Simon couldn’t help having a flash of sympathy; the hurt behind his blue eyes was clear. “Maybe.” 

“I met Napoleon once,” said Magnus. “We didn’t have an affair, though. He was shockingly prudish for a Frenchman.” 

“You met Napoleon?” Jordan, who appeared to be missing most of the conversation, looked impressed. “So it’s true what they say about warlocks, then?” 

Alec gave him a very unpleasant look. “What’s true?” 

“Alexander,” said Magnus coldly, and Clary met Simon’s eyes across the table. Hers were wide, green, and full of an expression that said Uh-oh. “You can’t be rude to everyone who talks to me.” 

Alec made a wide, sweeping gesture. “And why not? Cramping your style, am I? I mean, maybe you were hoping to flirt with werewolf boy here. He’s pretty attractive, if you like the messy-haired, broad-shouldered, chiseled-good-looks type.” 

“Hey, now,” said Jordan mildly. 

Magnus put his head in his hands. 

“Or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren’t into?” 

“Mermaids,” said Magnus into his fingers. “They always smell like seaweed.” 

“It’s not funny,” Alec said savagely, and kicking back his chair, he got up from the table and stalked off into the crowd. 

Magnus still had his head in his hands, the black spikes of his hair sticking out between his fingers. “I just don’tsee,” he said to no one in particular, “why the past has to matter.”

This ^^^ entire thing just annoys the hell out of me and goes past problematic to abusive.

Alec doesn’t trust Magnus anymore. It was fine when he thought Mangus was gay, but the minute he realises Magnus is Bisexual, he instantly thinks he’s flirting with Jordan and trying to cheat on him and it’s utterly ridiculous.

Not only does this has some pretty abusive themes in relationship terms, but the biphobia is astounding.

Just to add to it, it states that Simon sympathises with Alec, which means that CC really does defend this, she thinks that this is okay. Which it’s not.

Alec then storms off like a child leaving a very clearly hurt Magnus behind. Later they have a conversation where Magnus is trying to justify himself, but surprise surprise they’re interrupted and there is no apology.

Then, moving onto City of Lost Souls, we have this:

Clary glanced past him and asked, “Where’s Magnus?” 

“He said it would be better if he didn’t come. Apparently he and the Seelie Queen have some kind of history.” 

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. 

“Not that kind of history,” said Alec irritably. “Some kind of feud. Though,” he added, half under his breath, “the way he got around before me, I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

This was nearly an entire book later, and Alec still hasn’t realised or been properly called out on it. He’s had time to adjust but no… What bugs me most about this (despite the blatant lack of trust) is the fact that Magnus isn’t even there to defend himself. Alec is making completely unnecessary, rude, comments about his boyfriend to his sister and their friends. It does say that he and Isabelle hang back to talk, but we have no idea what she says to him.

All of that not only indicates Alec’s biphobia, but shows just some of the blatant bisexual stereotypes that surround Magnus.

Now, book Malec… this could take a while.

I’m gonna try and do this in order, but sorry if it’s a little mixed up.

Magnus isn’t comfortable being in a relationship with Alec when he’s closested, which is fair enough, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But the part I have an issue with is that he basically ignores Alec completely and pushes Alec to come out, knowing that Alec lives in a very homophobic society. 

Also, I’m pretty sure Alec was only 17 at the beginning of CoB.

Alec is literally the token gay. He’s supposed to be a strong leader, and a soldier. But he has never killed a demon until he’s eighteen, which is considered very, very late, for a Shadowhunter, and for Gods sake, Simon (a mundane at the time) killed a demon first in City of Bones… it’s unrealistic.

There is no trust in their relationship, at all. Alec doesn’t trust Magnus not to cheat. Alec goes behind Magnus’ back, to his abusive ex, to try and shorten his life, whether he changed his mind or not, it was still ridiculous. On the plus side, Alec finally learnt the word “sorry”.

A lot of Malec’s relationship was queerbaiting, there was rarely any of their relationship on page, and their “big moment” which CC is so very proud of and loves taking praise for is literally a paragraph long before it goes back to the incest/hetero/love triangle drama.

Maia smiled tightly. “I’m not a Shadowhunter. Lycanthropes are considered adults at sixteen.“ 

"Well, you have to get drawn on, then,” said Isabelle. “By a Shadowhunter. So you’d better look for one." 

"But-” Maia, still looking over at Alec and Magnus, broke off and raised her eyebrows. Simon turned to see what she was looking at-and stared. 

Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him, full on the mouth. Magnus, who appeared to be in a state of shock, stood frozen. Several groups of people-Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike-were staring and whispering. Glancing to the side, Simon saw the Lightwoods, their eyes wide, gaping at the display. Maryse had her hand over her mouth. 

Maia looked perplexed. “Wait a second,” she said. “Do we all have to do that, too?”

That’s literally it. Her big moment that makes her think that her token gay couple are so epic, is a sentence, told from somebody else’s perspective… Wow… it’s amazing! Give CC an award!

Sidelined. For an entire book. They just get together and they’re just happy and then they’re gone, which is totally unnecessary. And now yes, she is writing stories for a Magnus trilogy about what happened. But she’s just covering her own ass, because people told her how problematic it was. They come back from vacation and the biphobia begins…

City of Lost Souls… the biphobia continues, the lack of trust continues. But, we get Aline and Helen and I’ll come to them in a moment.

Then we have City of Heavenly Fire which is a mess and screams “sassy gay” stereotype for Alec, which was kinda cringy. But there’s this.

“Is that why you forgave me? For me, or you?” Alec said, not angry, just curious. 

“I forgave you because I love you and I hate being without you. I hate it, my cat hates it. And because Catarina convinced me I was being stupid.” 

“Mmm. I like her.”

And I presume they’re talking about forgiveness for the immortality thieving thing, which becomes very problematic. 

Because Magnus forgave him… because Catarina told him he was being stupid?? Which he wasn’t?? Alec tried to shorten his life, he tried to ensure his death. I feel like people so often brush that aside, which CC does here. Magnus never forgave Alec properly, not for the right reasons. And I just… how do you have a healthy relationship when it’s based on that.

Her version of Malec’s happy ending, is keeping Magnus immortal and Alec mortal, and giving them a mortal and immortal child. Whereas she takes away Simon’s immortality so that the white (they’re both white in the books) heterosexuals can grow old together but Malec doesn’t get that luxury. Not to mention this means Max is going to watch his brother and father grow old and die and Magnus has to deal with one of his sons, and his husband/boyfriend die. 

Now, Aline and Helen. As you might have noticed from my url, I love Aline. I love her so much, but not how CC portrayed her. So, basically, I love the fandoms version of her.

But, Heline, like Malec, is frowned on by their entire community and they’re tragically split up, and Helen is exiled, if they want to be together Aline has to leave too.

Then… that’s about it for a while. Apparently, stuff happens that we don’t see… then suddenly they’re engaged and getting married.

Their entire wedding is surrounded by negativity, as the Clave set a condition that Helen could only marry Aline if she humiliated herself at the Acadamy, lying to the students so they would fear faeries. Then I’m pretty sure they have to leave again.

Then we come to TDA, specifically LoS… now, we’re suddenly hit by a tonne of lgbt+ characters and it seems rather suspicious and not CC’s style *cough*fanservice *cough* queerbaiting *cough* CC is profiting from Malec’s relationship, and since she’s realised that she’s just thrown a tonne more characters in for the hell of it.

Lord of the Shadows Spoilers ahead

Aline Penhallow - Sexually assaulted, faced homophobia and disapproval from her parents, her girlfriend was exiled, if she wanted to be with Helen she had to leave too, marriage is overshadowed by the clave’s racism.

Helen Blackthorn - orphaned, banished as punishment for her parentage, wasn’t allowed to get married unless she was paraded around the academy so she could be mocked, feared and turn more Shadowhunters against faeries 

Diana Wrayburn -  A Trans Woman of Colour, who’s parents forced her to be a man in public, and is surrounded by tragedy when she loses her sister then her parents.

Mark Blackthorn - Was kidnapped, tortured, beaten, abused, abandoned by his people, used as a bargaining chip, faced biphobic stereotypes by his boyfriend and has faced more trauma than probably any other mortal in any of the books.

Keiran - had his title taken away, lied about Mark, putting him in danger to try and get him back, then was abducted.

Kit and Ty is nothing but queerbait at the moment.

And none of this even covers how badly she treats Isabelle and how unecessary Livvy’s death was...

To summarise it all:

CC didn’t care about Raphael’s identity.

Alec is still biphobic.

Book!Malec is very, very unhealthy and borderline abusive.

Heline were sidelined every five minutes.

CC treats her LGBT+ characters terribly.

Just because there are LGBT+ characters, doesn’t mean that it has good representation. Any questions?