#clarke

[mudshadow]

halves of a whole

[michaeljclarke]

Spots like this one in the woods of the White Mountains have such a profound beauty to them that I always think fondly of when I am away from the mountains. Isn't there something wonderful about how while we get busy in our day to day lives these places just keep churning with wonder 24/7 and all throughout our changing seasons?

PRINT SHOP

[kpforpresident]

Chapter 7 | Part 2

Thanks for sticking with me, kids. A snippet for your patience x

Lexa, refusing to be cowed within her own private chambers, continues on her path away from the door.  Only years of training and instinct keep her steady in her slow methodical movements to pull the three throwing blades from where they buried into the head and neck of the dummy. Shards of wood flutter slowly past Lexa’s hand as she works the honed blades from the soft wood, landing across the dull black leather of her well worn training boots. Lexa can practically feel Clarke burning a hole in the side of her head, arms crossed angrily in front of her body as she taps her food impatiently on the worn wooden floors. She hasn’t moved more than a foot into the room, clearly unsure about being in this space despite her angry entrance. 

Polis feels a million miles away in this small space, a buttery stream of sunlight pouring through an upper window to fan out in a dreamy pattern on the far wall. The entire structure of the converted stable is wood, the mere memory of two horse stalls standing against the far right side, now filled with practice dummies, spare training weapons, and a jug of water that a young Natblida is tasked to refresh daily. A small tin bowl sits on the rickety table beside the stall entrance, a few apples and a small linen bag of jerky tucked carefully inside. This had been Anya’s addition to the space when Costia had died and Lexa hadn’t left the stables for a week, the silent plea the closest Lexa had ever seen Anya come to a concession. 

The silence seems to grow teeth as the two women look at each other- one with barely muted scorn, the other with trained neutrality. Far away, the river’s melodic trickle is the only reprieve from this moment that seems to drag out into infinity.  

Lexa flips her dagger slowly as she crosses from the spot by the training dummy to perch onto an stable door, leaning into the wood that had been worn smooth with centuries of use. This had been Heda’s private stable for many lives before Lexa’s, the war drums a constant and unending companion to many previous Commander’s reigns. Lexa was the first to lead a life that didn’t fall asleep and rise in the morning with a constant refrain of war just beyond her doorstep. 

This was a life that was mean to be dotted with peace, and propserity for her people. Lexa had fought and bled and strategized and lost to make it so. 

Lexa remembers with a pang how little Madi who worked in the kitchens had run in the week previously, breathless with joy over the return of the robins to the nearby meadow, where young children took their outdoor lessons. Lexa, who had yet to be broken of her habit of sneaking into the kitchen to sneak a few pieces of cheese and the end of the daily loaf of bread- much to Anya’s continued chagrin– had nearly swallowed her tongue in surprise when the door flew open to reveal the breathless, beaming youth. 

The birds had avoided Polis for Lexa’s lifetime thus far and her parent’s before her. Not that she blamed them- the clatter of the hammers in the smiths as they foraged swords from glowing hearths and the pounding of horse’s hoof beats had been the constant in the sunrise years of Lexa’s young life. 

Now, birdsong would sometimes float through the morning markets, the entire city seeming to hold its collective breath as the quavering notes filled the honey-sweet summer air. 

Madi’s little brother–Roni– had died in the attack by Nia. A pang hits Lexa deeper in the heart as she remembers the little boy’s tawny eyes and deep dimple in his cheek that would appear when Lexa snuck the little boy the scraps of her morning meal, studiously avoiding Lyra’s eyes as she tutted silently from the far end of the dining room. 

Lexa refuses to turn her back to Clarke as she storms farther into Heda’s sanctum. This is her space. She will not be cowed by some sacred blonde girl, sent down from the skies as if destined for her personally. 

Flip. Flip. Flip.

“I must speak with Aden regarding his inability to keep Heda’s location confidential.” Lexa hears herself saying as she runs a finger down the tightly wrapped leather handle of her weapon, feeling the worn material give slightly as she rubs the pad of her thumb into the spot just below the throat of the blade. 

Lexa practically watches Clarke catch fire in front of her as the blonde swells with the force of her anger, blue eyes sparking with barely withhead fury as she bears down onto the Commander with all the wrath of a summer storm. 

“It’s been days, Lexa! I had to practically emotionally black mail a twelve year old to tell me where you were! Because you, a fucking LEADER OF A COUNTRY decided that instead of comforting your people in a time of uncertainty and strife, you were going to hide in your quasi-man cave, SULKING!I”

Lexa blinks under the assault of Clarke’s spat accusations, Clarke’s pulse thrumming at the speed of light as the light shines passionately in her gaze. A moment passes as Lexa continues to turn her knife over and over in her hand, clearly finding some small comfort in the repetitive movement. 

“A man- cave…?”

“Not the point, Heda,” Clarke practically snarls. 

For the first time in Lexa’s short reign as a leader, she dislikes the sound of her title. Coming from Clarke, it sounds like a curse. 

Clarke’s so close now she can almost count the freckles that spray across Lexa’s nose like sand stuck to a wet canvas. Even gaunt and clearly sleep-deprived, whether from an unknown outside threat or her own doing, the Commander was beautiful. Grey-green eyes held steadfast to Clarke’s own, the deep calm within them unruffled despite the rapidly tightening corners of Lexa’s mouth, muscles growing taught as Clarke bears down on her. 

Clarke is suddenly reminded of a fox she had come across in the forest, trapped into a corner by a slightly larger, heavily mutated bobcat. The fox had grown stiller and quieter until it had exploded with fury at its attacker, snarling as blood sprayed from the ferocity of its attack. Still growling a challenge, the creature had bounded into the dense of the trees, scarlet tail flashing in the dying light of day. 

The way Lexa holds herself as Clarke closes in reminds her of the fox- and yet, she can’t find it within herself to stem the tide of her tirade as she moves even closer to the grounder. 

“I even came by your room, there was never candles lit inside and regardless of the hour, the guard would lie for you and say that you weren’t there–”

Lexa can’t stop the way her eyes linger on Clarke’s cupid bow as she talks, despite the absolute vitriol that coats her tone as she spits words at Lexa like arrows loosed from a bow. 

Has she always had that freckle?

All of a sudden Lexa’s skin feels too tight, sweat still dripping down the small of her back. The handle in her hand is the only thing anchoring her to this moment and her tenuous threads of sanity, keeping her from falling into orbit with that dammed freckle–

She wavers. 

“It’s because I wasn’t there, Clarke.” 

The trudge back to Polis in the weak light of a dying day is not a pleasant one. Clarke, seemingly able to keep herself quiet only through some herculean force of will, glares daggers at Lexa throughout the entire, muddy walk through the rolling hills outside of Polis. And through the streets of the city, dodging sellers and shoppers alike as she silently follows a hooded, semi-disguised Lexa back towards the heart of the city, the tower. 

Moments prior, a silent brow had arched as Lexa sheathed her throwing daggers quickly and draped a light black shawl around her shoulders, carefully tucking her hair beneath and arranging it so most of her features were thrown into sharp shadow. 

Catching Clarke’s questioning gaze in the cracked mirror piece that had been hung at the door, Lexa shrugged as she tucked an errant curl behind her ear. 

“Keeps me from being spotted as Heda. Helps me move unnoticed through the city.” 

She leaves through the door within another word, leaving Clarke to ponder what occasions the leader of an adoring public would want to move through the city without the mantle of Heda. 

Now, back at the tower, Lexa lets the shawl fall back, the guards moving in a practice wave to let her in as she strides towards the rickety elevator. She quirks an eyebrow as Clarke hesitates. 

Gathering the remnants of her patience and courage, she follows Lexa into the hated rusty box and into the heart of the tower. 

///

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 - 𝐣. 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

John Murphy - Modern AU

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ in which you and your friends plan on throwing murphy a surprise birthday party, what will happen when the guest of honor is late to his own birthday? ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: kiss scene, sfw

"What's the theme gonna be?" I ask, excitedly.

Octavia, Bellamy, Clarke, and Lincoln sat next to and across from me in the university lounge. Jasper and Monty were in their respective classes but we'd text them the details after the discussion.

The discussion in question is Murphy's birthday party. Well, it was a secret birthday party.

Murphy hadn't been fond of birthday parties, or secret ones, or anything happy in general. It took a while for him to even come out of his shell around us. His snarky comments always bring a smile to my face.

"I didn't know you needed one for a birthday party," Lincoln stated, Bellamy nodding in agreement while I rolled my eyes.

Lincoln and Bellamy only seemed to be here for Octavia and Clarke, the rest of the friend group besides me didn't really know him- it's not that they didn't care for him perse; it's just he's only with us when we're all together. Nobody really gets to sit down and talk with him one-on-one.

"He doesn't even like parties, let alone surprise parties," Clarke spoke up from beside Bellamy. "Let's just get him a present from all of us and leave it at that."

Clarke has always tried to get the group to do what 'benefits' us most, or at least that's what she says when she gets called out on occasion.

But nobody is perfect.

What she had said struck something in me, we'd always thrown parties for everyone in the group so what made Murphy so different? Just because he isn't as social with everyone? I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Bellamy agreeing with her.

"C'mon guys, were his friends, why do I have to constantly remind you all of that?" I stood up abruptly, catching everyone's attention and the eyes of passersby.

"She is right, it'll be fun Clarke," Octavia added, if I could count on anyone it'd be Octavia to have my back. I smiled when I saw Clarke's small smile, signaling she agreed. If Clarke was going then Bellamy was too. Same with Lincoln and Octavia. Jasper and Monty wouldn't pass up a good time with friends, Monty could even bring Harper!

"Alright! My place, tomorrow night at 6! Don't forget presents!" I say, a little to enthusiastic. I was already picturing the bright smile on Murphy's face, imagining how happy I'd be making him.

I grabbed my bag from the side of the beanbag and made a B-line to the parking lot after noticing the time. I hoped Murphy wasn't mad at me for being late. Murphy had a car, I didn't, he also had a license, I didn't. So he offered (I pleaded) to take me home after classes since we lived in the same apartment complex. It made things easier, I got to have small talks with him, and he... well he got a friend.

Opening the glass doors I saw Murphy's car, I was surprised he'd waited 40 minutes for me.

Opening the passenger door I tossed my bag behind me into the backseat, it landed on a pile of random clothes- thankfully only his. Murphy's car was decorated in my things, hair ties on the shift gear, lipgloss in the change holder, a car freshener I got him in the shape of a bow, he protested it made him look girly but he never tried to give the things I left back.

"You're lucky I waited." Murphy started the car up. "What were you even doing? I know your schedule so don't try and lie." He finished, pulling out of the parking space. He knows my schedule?

Looking over at him I examined his face, like I do every time I'm in the car with him. It's like I can never get enough like I want his face engraved into my brain. His not-so-slicked-back hair, his dark blue eyes, his prominent nose. The imperfections he saw I didn't. Even with his tough guy act I could tell, there were some things he wished he could change. Though I wouldn't change them for the world.

A cough from Murphy snapped me out of my trance, he must've noticed my staring. I shook my head and brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"Just talking with the others at the lounge." I tried not to reveal too many details about the conversations prior.

Looking out the window, unable to see the frown on Murphy's face, "Of course, cause who wouldn't wanna spend 40 minutes in a university lounge." The stop light turned green and I felt the car pick up speed.

"You should really try talking to some of them more, and I mean like really talking. Like how we are now!" I say, turning back to look at him, realizing how... sad? he looked. I wished everyone could see what I saw in Murphy.

"Yeah, well, I only talk to them for you, so." His hand turned on the radio once he was finished speaking, the sound of Frank Ocean 'Ivy' filling the car shortly after, soon filling the silence. It was my favorite song that I had introduced him to, and ever since then, it's been his favorite too.

He only talks to them for me? As in he only talks to them for me? or for me? I had wanted to ask more questions but I decided to take the hint and leave the topic alone for now.

The song had started to get to me, "I feel a song coming on!" I say, turning up the radio. Murphy knew what this meant, as it wasn't his first rodeo.

"You better not! I will leave you on this highway!" Empty threats he was spewing.

"I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me!" I sang loudly, with no care in the world. Unbeknownst to me, Murphy was admiring me from the driver's seat, how I was so effortlessly beautiful to him. A smile found its way onto his lips, a rare occurrence to most, but a common one with you.

"The start of nothin'..." He grumbled through a smile.

"Had no chance to prepare, I couldn't see you comin'!" We both sang along, his smile growing bigger with every lyric.

It was amazing to see him like this, without his usual frown. His smile was beautiful, and I wish I had the guts to tell him.

Pulling into a parking space near our complex I leaned into the backseat to grab my bag. The sudden dread that the moment before would be cut short. Murphy seemed to feel it too as his smile returned to his normal scowl.

"Murphy?" I look at him before opening the door, catching his attention quickly.

"Yeah?"

"Come over tomorrow, at 6ish. And happy early birthday!" I hoped that didn't reveal too much about the party happening tomorrow. And with that I hopped out of the car and made my way into the complex, leaving Murphy with his thoughts, of me.

I had already gotten his present a week prior, it was a build-a-bear plushie. A big green frog, dressed in an outfit similar to what Murphy wears, but the best part is the voice message when you press his hand. It, well I, say, "yu laik ai raunon" meaning, you are my person, its trigdasleng. Few people know the made-up language, Murphy included. I just hope he likes it. It's also my way of saying, I like you.

It's been 30 minutes past six. Everyone was growing doubt Murphy would even come, but I had faith. I was staring out the window when I overheard Octavia and Lincoln talking.

"Why would you tell him? It's supposed to be a surprise Lincoln." Octavia whispered, crossing her arms in disapproval.

It was obvious now why he didn't show, but if he knew we were all coming why not just make an appearance?

Staring back out the window I saw Murphy's car pull up, joy flowed through me but was slowly dispercing the longer he sat there, unmoving. Why wasn't he getting out?

I made my way to the door with the plushie in hand.

"I'll be back guys," I state, not turning back to get their answers.

"Alright!" Jasper and Monty yell, too busy mixing together concoctions of drinks and making Bellamy taste them.

Coming up to his car I see his head resting on the steering wheel, I knock on the door and I see his eyes peek out to see me, he still made no motion to move.

I sigh and walk to the passenger side door and get in.

"Murphy?" I ask, putting a hand on his shoulder, making him sit up to face me.

"What." He blankly stated. I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a little hurt over his tone, but I pushed on for him.

"What's wrong?"

"Why are you here, y/n?" It was a genuine question, a dumb one, but genuine.

"What do you m-" He cut me off.

"Why are you here, acting like you care." His words stung, but it's now or never.

"I'm here for you, I'm here because I love you, Johnathan." I hadn't meant to say the last part with full confidence, and the look on his face turned into one of shock, the previous emotions long forgotten with my newfound confession.

Moments of silence passed and I took that as a sign to leave, I began opening the door but was stopped by his hand, it sent a chill down my spine.

"Did you mean that?" Murphy questioned, staring into my eyes, looking for any signs of deception or regret.

"I meant every part.." My voice wavered, becoming fully aware of the situation and how vulnerable I felt under his strong gaze and grip.

Before I even knew it his lips were on mine, the kiss was passionate and loving, full of months pent up with love, like it's what our lifelong goal was, to be here, in this car, with each other. No other care in the world.

I pulled away for air and fully examined him, the dusty pink that lined his cheeks, if I could take a picture of this I would.

"I love you too, but what is that?" He asked, pointing to the frog in my lap. I had completely forgotten about his present!

"Its for you!" I excitedly say, shoving the frog practically into his face

Murphy took it into his big hands and examined it all over, with a goofy grin on his face. He discovered the button and pressed it, my voice filling the air for a few seconds. He took a minute to translate the sentence in his head, but when he did he had the biggest smile as he kissed me again, and again, and again...

"Shall we go to the party, birthday boy?" I say in between little kisses.

"We could stay here, in the backseat." He replied, suggestively, I giggled at this

"Don't tempt me."

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[dirtyriver]

Mélusine 8: Halloween, 2000, written by François Gilson, art by Clarke

[freikdreinaslaw]

Bellamy: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.

Clarke: Murphy almost died.

Bellamy: like I said, treasured memories.

[commander-heart-eyes]

Clexa Spotify Playlist - Day 2

Hold on ~ Chord Overstreet

[low-budget-korra]

Please, stay // I cant 

Did we make it? // Yes, we did

You came // You called

Why are you still here? // I love you, silly

We cant be together  // I know

Are you here for the treasure? // Im here for you

I wish we had more time // Me too

May we meet again // I really hope we do

[dedalvs]

I've made a new conlang Grambank entry for Trigedasleng! Jessie Peterson created a Google Sheets spreadsheet that conlangers can copy and fill out in order to share their work. I did one previously on High Valyrian, and now the Trigedasleng one is finished.. This won't tell you everything about the language, but it'll tell you a LOT in a very small space. If you'd like to do something like this for your conlang, the blank one can be found here.

[balu8]

Mélusine

by Clarke 

[persiesposts]

[lexa-griffins]

And I adore them both <3

[neimiismycoolgirlname]

I just remembered when the Cw gave us a perfect couple of lesbian protagonist and killed one of them for dipshit plot reason.