#lexa just wanted to hand them her body and be like okay its done now stop causing problems

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

my favourite headcanon for glass sorenson is that she came down with farm station and watched them murder luke right in front of her eyes (or kidnap him or something cause i love tragic lovers but she deserves to be happy) and so she’s one of the first people to join pike’s militia and turn vengeful, and her best friend wells (he lives too cause this is my canon now) is trying to get through to her but she won’t hear it cause all she wants is justice and to get her oldest friend clarke griffin out of polis and away from harm (they’re friends too fight me on this i dare you)

(also sorry about the tags i didn’t know i had that rant in me 😭😭)

[cascowriteswords]

Doorstep from the prompt list, please!!!

It’s the 3rd bag of flaming shit Lexa has found on her doorstep in the same number of days.

She’d fallen for it the first time, quickly stamping the burning paper out only to find herself with an unfortunately smelly situation on her hands (er, feet?) and a ruined pair of house slippers. A quick and angry text was immediately shot off to Clarke in response, an image of her ruined shoes following. I really didn’t think you would resort to middle-school warfare tactics, Clarke. 

It had been met with unapologetic indignance. Raven is a free agent, Lexa. I can’t control how she reacts to her best friend being betrayed.

Lexa hadn’t answered, because Clarke was right and there was nothing else she could really say. She had betrayed Clarke, but she couldn’t apologize for what she had done when she believed it was the right thing to do. So even if she personally thinks Raven’s reaction is/was overkill, it doesn’t surprise her that she would come to Clarke’s defense so fiercely, and in the most annoying way possible. 

Lexa sighs and pulls the small fire extinguisher she normally keeps in the kitchen out from beside the front door, the space which has become its unlikely new home. She puts out the fire and then sweeps the bag and its contents into a dustpan, dumping it outside so as not to make her entire house smell like literal burning shit. 

When she goes to bed that evening it’s in a cold bed and a quiet room, no warm body tucked up against her or endearing quiet snores that Clarke swears she doesn’t make. 

I had to do it, I had to do it, she tells herself over and over again until she falls asleep. 

Somehow it doesn’t make her feel any better. 

xxx 

It happens again the next evening like clockwork. Lexa is sitting in the living room watching reruns of SVU when her doorbell rings. She sighs and clenches her jaw, teeth grinding audibly as she grits them and stands up. She knows there’s no point in trying to catch Raven in the act; she’s already long gone, and what would she do anyways? All that there is to do is clean up the mess she’s left and try to enjoy another evening spent painfully alone after more than two years of spending nearly every night hanging out with Clarke. 

I had to do it, I had to do it, the mantra repeats in the back of her mind. 

She grabs the fire extinguisher. 

Opens the door. 

But there is no flaming bag of feces on her doorstep. 

There is Clarke. 

Lexa stares for long enough that her eyes start to go dry, forcing a cartoon-like slow blink that makes Clarke smirk. She says, “Hey,” and Lexa blinks again. She’s been thinking about what she might say if Clarke reached out to her and now that it’s happening she can’t form even a single word. Classic. 

“This is silly,” Clarke says, evidently not needing Lexa to say anything anyways. “I miss you. I want to come home. Plus I think Lincoln is getting tired of having Raven and me crashing at his and O’s place. It’s not that big of a house you know.”

“I miss you too,” Lexa says, finally finding her voice. “The door has always been open, Clarke. I want you to come home.”

“Okay, good,” Clarke says, smiling and looking relieved. “So just say you’re sorry and we can pretend none of this ever happened.”

Lexa balks. “Clarke, I can’t. You know I can’t,” she says sadly, assuming this means Clarke will end up returning to Lincoln’s instead of walking through the front door with her. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Not technically Lexa, no you didn’t. But morally? Not even a twinge of regret for completely turning on me and stabbing me in the back?”

I had to do it, I had to do it. “I couldn’t show favoritism, Clarke. It goes against everything I stand for.”

“You didn’t have to show favoritism!” Clarke exclaims. Lexa’s eyes widen a tad at the raised voice and Clarke visibly gathers herself, chest rising as she takes a deep breath. “All you had to do was not hit me with a +4 card when I was about to finally win a game of Uno. I never win, Lexa, and you couldn’t just let me have it this once.”

“It wouldn’t have been fair,” Lexa repeats for the umpteenth time. Deflating because it seems like they’re just going round and round with this conversation versus finding any middle ground. 

“Lexa,” Clarke says, “Sometimes when you’re playing a harmless game with your friends and the woman you love, who makes you cum harder than you ever have in your life - your words, not mine - you can sacrifice just a smidgen of fairness. Don’t you think?” Lexa is about to argue that no, she can’t, until Clarke suddenly looks up at her through her eyelashes and takes a small step forward, the fingertips of one of her hands landing on Lexa’s hip. “I’ve really been missing you,” Clarke says. Her thumb finds the small strip of exposed skin between Lexa’s jeans sweatpants and her t-shirt and rubs a small circle. Lexa gulps, eyes darting down to Clarke’s mouth just as she’s licking her lips. 

“O-okay. You’re right and I’m sorry,” Lexa says, and the words only taste bitter for a split second because Clarke steps closer to her with those huge hungry blue eyes and she loses all train of thought. 

“Thank god,” Clarke says, both of her hands now on Lexa’s hips as she pushes her backward into the house. “That couch was killing my back, I’m too old for that shit. Now come remind me how comfortable our bed is, please,” she says, taking Lexa by the hand and tugging her towards the bedroom. 

Lexa is happy to oblige, abandoned morals all but forgotten. 

xxx 

An hour later, as they lay in a panting and sweaty heap diagonally across the mattress, the doorbell rings. Clarke raises a brow in question, and Lexa groans. “Can you please text Raven and tell her we’ve kissed and made up.”

“We did a lot more than kiss, babe,” Clarke laughs. “But yes. Texting her right now.”

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hello

We need another sneak peek *PLEASEEEEEE *😀

You know how much we love the demon give us some mercy *pleaseeeeeeeeee *

Have a nice day please..

Ps : love your ff dude

I know you weren't trying to be rude, I do. So far I've been really fucking lucky in not having any legit rude anons or readers. But I just... sometimes it can start to feel like I'm this work horse, ya know? And sometimes things are like "... Hey 😔, I know it's taking a while but ya coulda asked a little more politely here man I work hard on this stuff." When someone post a 1k snippet you have to realize that represents a couple hours of work they put in instead of doing other things because they want to make these stories great for readers. So just, yeah. Please keep that in mind. But yes, here's a little snippet but nO MORE I GOTTA FINISH THIS DAMN THING 😩

////////////

She had this. 

Raven was right. It was just a friendly dinner. 

A friendly dinner where Clarke could possibly see what it might feel like to live out the mortifying ordeal of being seen as half of a… something. 

A something with Lexa. 

Clarke pushed the thought down as she twisted the handle, taking a minute to herself to breath and calm her nerves.

Which was all shot to shit the second the door swung open. 

"Hey, gorgeous."

The smirk that greeted her sent a flutter through Clarke's belly, her eyes doing a quick route down the length of Lexa's body. Gone was the skirt and skin tight blouse from earlier, all vestiges of the office wiped clean.

The usually wild mane of brunette was pulled back in a ponytail, an exquisitely messy one that hung over her shoulder and draped across the curve of a sharp collarbone. Clarke's gaze wandered along the waterfall of it, sliding to the cleavage that peeked out from the unbuttoned dip of a low-cut navy Henley. Her leather jacket stopped just shy of distressed jeans that clung to her thighs, calves, and ankles and stretched down to a smart looking pair of black boots. 

Clarke shook her head at the deeply pleased look painted across Lexa's face.

"How did I not foresee you managing to get yourself invited here?"

Lexa's smile slipped into a frown, head tipping to the side as she spoke. "... You didn't know I was coming?"

"No," Clarke sighed. "I was not made aware until about five minutes ago. We've been set up."

"Ah," Lexa breathed in understanding, shuffling awkwardly on her feet on the front stoop. "I should've known when Raven told me to hurry up. The texts felt very urgent."

"Don't know how you don't know this by now, but you can never trust Raven. And I'm saying that as someone who also fell into this trap."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I can't uninvite you from someone else's house, Lex."

"That's not what I asked," Lexa murmured, throat bobbing with a swallow as her eyes strayed to her shoes.

Clarke licked her lips. Thumped the door twice with her thumb. Weighed the conversation from the kitchen that still felt fresh on her tongue. 

"You really weren't in on this?"

"I would tell you if I had been. She just texted and invited me. Said it was dull with just the three," Lexa shrugged. "Felt rude to say no."

"I'm sure that was the reason," Clarke snorted, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. "Not at all like you wanted to spend the evening with me or anything."

"Well you already know how I would've preferred tonight to go."

Clarke's smile weakened when Lexa wagged a devilish brow. 

Right. 

Sex. 

There it was. Why she hadn't wanted to do this to begin with. Not this way. Had questioned ever even fucking confronting the jumbled mess of thoughts that had been churning in her skull for the past few days. Because she'd set up these boundaries and didn't know why she'd begun questioning them to begin with. 

Something in her face must've given her away. A glimpse of her hesitance. The stab of something sharp and unpleasant at Lexa's admittedly innocent words sobering the smirk on Lexa's face. 

Lexa stepped in closer, one foot on the threshold, the other firmly staying outside. "I can go if you want me to," she said so quietly Clarke wouldn't have heard if she weren't that close. Wouldn't have seen the sparkle in Lexa's eyes from the porch light above them. "But I'd like to stay. If you want… You know I'll take any time I can get with you."

Never mind.

That was why she'd been having those jumbled mess of thoughts. 

It sent her stomach flipping and chest aching with something else entirely. Clarke smiled more genuinely, throwing in a cursory roll of her eyes for good measure. "At least you're getting better at being smooth."

"Just like making you smile, gorgeous."

"Mhm… in that case, I guess you can stay."

"Lucky me… So are you gonna invite me in now?" Lexa asked, the silky hum of her voice causing Clarke to sway a bit on her feet as Lexa lifted her hand to reveal a 6-pack of imported beer. "I came bearing libations as peace offering. Just on the off chance you were a little… cranky. For whatever reason."

Clarke eyed the bright label as she reached out to grab a fistful of Lexa's shirt, stepping aside to make room as she yanked Lexa inside and shut the door. "How did you know what beer I like? You're a wine girl."

"I asked Raven," Lexa said as she set down the case and shrugged out of her coat. "She's a very helpful secretary… Sometimes."

"She's a goddamn schemer," Clarke corrected with a grunt as she shot a glare in the direction of the kitchen. 

"Don't be mad," Lexa soothed and hung up her coat on the wall before sliding back into Clarke's space.

Her hands settled low on Clarke's waist, thumbs brushing over the swells of her hip bones that peeked out from beneath her shirt. 

Clarke felt a rush of heat flare through her as Lexa bent down and kissed her. Kissed her slow, and full, with the careless intensity that left Clarke spinning. That languidness Clarke had been struggling so hard to describe. She felt a moan against her mouth as Lexa pulled back with a smile. Barely reigning in a pleased smile of her own, Clarke worked to keep a straight face as she poked a finger to the flat of Lexa's chest.

"Hello to you too, handsy."

"What?" Lexa whispered, eyes twinkling in the dim light filtering from the doorway a few feet away. 

"We're in Raven's front hall."

"And? I don't see anyone else with us."

"Ya can't just cop a feel every single time someone isn't looking."

"'Cop a feel?' You mean like this?"

Clarke sucked in a breath as Lexa surged forward again, the length of her body pressing along Clarke's front as hands wrapped around her backside and squeezed.

"Lex--" 

"Lexa, hey, you made it!"

A reproachful yelp died in Clarke's throat as the new voice called from around the corner, her mind working just fast enough to thrust her hips forward to send Lexa a few stumbling steps back. 

Clarke shot up off the wall and turned as Raven emerged from the kitchen, an inviting smile on her lips even as sharp eyes slid between the two.

"Here I am," Lexa said without missing a beat, bending down to retrieve the all-but-forgotten drinks. "Complete with alcoholic party favors."

"Oooo. A woman after my own heart," Raven leered as she drew even, taking the pack from Lexa's hand and bussing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm gonna go pop these in the fridge, but make yourself at home. Clarke knows where everything is if you want anything. And dinner should be done any minute. Sound good?"

Lexa nodded as Raven flashed her another smile and turned to leave, Clarke barely resisting the urge to throw a middle finger up when Raven mouthed a silent 'lock it down, bitch' on her way out. 

"Okay, new rules," Clarke sighed as she tugged Lexa by the elbow down the hall. "Since apparently my very well thought out guidelines for us around people are apparently useless, let's just get through tonight unscathed, please? Yes, obviously Raven knows we're…"

"... Fucking?"

"Lexa."

"Friendly fucking."

"This is gonna be a disaster," Clarke mumbled to herself, reaching up to rub at her temples. "Yes, Raven knows. Yes, I'm okay with it. Just… please try to at least keep your hands in appropriate places. And no offering up details about… this. Us. I know you think it's hilarious to embarrass me to the point of wanting to run screaming from any given room, but in reality, Raven wouldn't let me live it down for weeks. So. Behave... Behave-ish. Aim for like a three on a scale of one to... you."

"I promise, gorgeous, don't worry," Lexa whispered, leaning in to nuzzle a spot beneath Clarke's ear as they rounded the corner into the front room. "I'll be such a good girl for you."

"Jesus Christ, Lex."

Quickly pulling back, Lexa shot her a devious smile, lip firmly planted between her teeth despite Clarke's shove to her shoulder. A throat clearing stifled the flustered rebuke that teetered on Clarke's tongue as the crack of a book closing sounded through the room.

"Sorry, I would've met you out there, but Raven said to give you a minute," Anya said airily as she tossed the book in her hands onto the table with a thunk and turned. "I'm Anya, Raven's…"

Anya's words seemed to die in her throat as she ground to a halt halfway around the far end of the couch. 

Clarke watched as the bored set of her eyes sharpened. Widened. 

A paleness slunk over her features as Anya stared at the woman at Clarke's side, Clarke's brow furrowing as she glanced between the startled look of her friend's wife and the relaxed grin on Lexa's face.

Throat bobbing through a few dry swallows, Anya's ribs expanded and released as she breathed in deeply. 

"You're Raven's boss?"

Lexa gave a quiet chuckle, Clarke's heart jumping at the dark timbre of its sound. 

"Guilty as charged."

//////////////

[wonderful-writer]

20 - Doomed

Summary: Despite the risk, Y/n and Bellamy sneak back into Mount Weather with Lincoln’s help, but the group gets split up when Lincoln receives the reaper drug and Y/n is recognized, leaving her with a dangerous and uncertain fate. 

Word Count: 2.29k

Based off: 02x10, “Survival of the Fittest” & 02x11, “Coup de Grace”

Feedback is always highly appreciated!

You left almost immediately after the plan was explained, and Lexa gave you clothing to make it look like you were grounders. You ventured out into the woods with the boys, Lincoln with a spear and you and Bellamy empty handed.

Sometime after dawn, Lincoln had killed a deer and used a knife to cut open its belly, confusing you and Bellamy. He stuck his hands inside the opening and spread blood all over his neck and chin, grossing you out a little bit.

“Okay,” Bellamy kneeled down to Lincoln’s height and started going over the plan again. “So we make it to the intake door without any of the real reapers seeing us. What happens then?”

“I kill everyone, you two slip inside. Limestone.”

You pulled the small pouch from your waistband and handed it to the man, who stuck his fingers in it and left 3 white lines on his face. “Let’s go. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before dark.”

As you walked, you reminded the pair that you needed to know what happened after the intake door, seeing as no one actually knew, not even you did.

“They’ll remove your clothes.” Lincoln explained. “Blast you with boiling hot water and douse you with something that burns even worse. From there we were sorted. The others were tagged harvest, I was tagged Cerberus, turned into a reaper.”

“Cerberus, 3 headed dog that guards the underworld.” You and Lincoln looked curiously towards Bellamy. “My mom read Mythology to us all the time. Octavia loved it.”

You continued in silence for just a few more paces, then Bellamy spoke again. “You’re good for her. You made her strong.”

“She was already strong.” Lincoln noted.

“Hey, I need to ask you something.” Bellamy stopped walking. “You protected my sister before you even knew her. Why?”

Lincoln looked around before fully facing Bellamy. “When I was a boy, I saw a ship fall from the sky. Like Ravens.The man inside was hurt, his body broken. I couldn’t get him out.”

“Suicide by Earth.” You said. “My- I heard about it when I was younger; I didn’t know they were true.”

“I brought him food, water.” Lincoln continued. “I didn’t speak the enemy’s language yet, so I couldn’t understand him, but I wanted to. On the third day, I told my father. He made me kill him. The world has been trying to turn me into a monster for as long as I can remember. Let’s keep moving.”

The group atmosphere had dampened at Lincoln’s retelling. He continued on but Bellamy stopped him again.

“The parking garage where we found you; it’s north. That way.” He pointed to his left.

“There’s a mine entrance closer to where the reapers hand us over.” Lincoln said. “We’ll go into the underworld when we have to, not before.”

You followed and quickly closed the small distance between yourself and Lincoln. You made it most of the way there until Lincoln stopped to fashion restraints for you, giving Bellamy time to pull out Clarke’s map and look it over. He glanced up at the mountain before turning back to you and Lincoln.

“The mountain has many eyes between here and the tunnels.” Lincoln said as he shaved down a thick branch. “From now on, details must be exact.”

“What if we run into real reapers?” Bellamy questioned. “Won’t they wonder where you’ve been?”

“All they see is red. Once you take it, nothing else matters. Just how you’ll get more.” Lincoln assured you.

“How much do you remember from when you were on it?” You asked lightly.

“Everything.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine. He instructed Bellamy to turn around and Lincoln took one of the shaved logs and put it on his neck, placing Bellamy’s hands on each side and tying them up.

Once he was done with Bellamy he did the same to you, leading you towards the tunnels with chains. On the way to the mines, light rain started falling and fog covered the sky from your view, but you still made it.

Lincoln stopped at the entrance, hesitant. Bellamy encouraged him, and with a shake, he entered the dark tunnel and soon you were engulfed in blackness, walking down a tunnel that you couldn’t see your own feet in.

However, after a little bit, lights lined the tunnel walls, guiding you and the two men down to the intake door. Lincoln stopped and you asked why, following his line of sight to an almost empty vial on the floor. He stepped on it with hatred, crushing the glass under his boot.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked.

Lincoln took a deep breath and moved a bit closer. “As soon as the intake doors open, we attack. Do not let it close. Once they’re all dead, you go in. I’ll make it look like you escaped. Once you’re inside--”

“We know.” You assured your friend. There was distant shouting and firelight heading your way, Lincoln telling you it was a raider party. He hastily pulled off your ropes, telling you the only way was to go back.

“Go back? No way.” You protested.

“There’s 3, maybe 4. We can fight our way through.” Lincoln said hurriedly as he removed all ropes from your body and moved to Bellamy.

“We’ll never get a better chance than this.” Bellamy pleaded.

“I thought I could do this, but I can’t.” Lincoln admitted. “It’s over.”

“No, it’s not.” Bellamy refused to go back. “We can join them. Listen to me. When they bring out the red, you grab it, and you run like hell. The reapers will go nuts, the grounders will run, and the mountain men will have to deal with it. No one will be looking for grounders running into the mountain.”

With that, Lincoln ripped the log off of Bellamy and Bellamy shoved him, whispering to fight back, making it look like an escape attempt. He looked over at you and you attempted attacking him, too, but he grabbed you and pinned you to the floor with his knee as he pulled his knife and forced Bellamy to his knees.

“These two tried to wander off.” He told one of the reapers. After a bit more conversation, he brought you both up and brought you both to the large log that the other two were carrying.

A blindfold was placed over your eyes and your hands were tied over the log. Your breathing picked up but you tried to contain it, realizing how screwed you were now.

They blindly led you down the path and stripped you of almost all your clothes, leaving you in your bra and underwear. You were sweaty from the journey and layers, but the cold air wasn’t welcoming and you were starting to freeze.

They shoved you onto your knees and pulled off your blindfold. The light leaked into your eyes and you blinked to adjust to it, seeing Bellamy beside you and Lincoln standing near you. The door to your right opened and people in hazmat suits entered, playing that high pitched sound that you heard when you escaped.

You kept your head down, but you knew things were going badly when you heard Dr. Tsing’s voice. “Harvest.”

“Look up at me.” She demanded. Your heartbeat was out of control, you started to shake and she demanded you look up again. When you didn’t do so, a gun was pressed to your back. Even more frightened, you looked up, meeting Dr. Tsing’s eyes.

A smirk formed on her lips. “I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to come back, Y/n. Exodus.”

The word left her mouth with an unusually happy tone, causing you to fear what was next. The rest were made for harvest and you hated that you pushed to go in with Bellamy. Everything was going all wrong and there was a strong chance that you weren’t making it out of the mountain again.

“Harvest everyone except for the girl. She gets put with the other two.” Everyone was dragged to their feet except Bellamy. He tried to resist, but it was no use. They smacked him with the butt of their gun and dragged him inside.

What came next was horrible in every way. First, they put a collar around your neck, hands, and ankles to keep you from attacking or running, and then the water comes. It’s just as bad as Lincoln said, if not worse.

Your screams, along with everyone else's, filled your ears when they slapped you with powder that made your skin crawl and felt like it was burning. They washed it off of you and examined inside your mouth, forcing a metal tube into it and shoving a pill down your throat. You almost threw up at that alone. They scrubbed you down in burning water, the screams from everyone else making your ears ring.

And then you passed out.

You woke up to someone poking the bottom of your foot. As you became more aware, you felt how uncomfortable the position you were in was. With squinted eyes, you sat up and put your knees to your chest.

“Y/n, Y/n,” Someone was quietly calling out to you. You blinked and adjusted your eyes, getting a look at your surroundings. You were in another yellow hospital gown, shoved in a cage on the ground.

It was a little dark, but it looked like the harvest room. Except it wasn’t. The cages were empty and there was a wall where the drop would be. You looked over to your right, meeting Monty’s eyes.

“Monty? What are you doing here?” He panicked and used his hands to tell you to lower your voice, leaning closer to the barrier between you.

“They took me. I stopped Mount Weather from jamming us. How are you here?”

“We got your message. Bellamy and I we-- we volunteered to come back and take down the acid fog. Things went wrong and now I’m here and he’s not.”

“Is he..?” You caught on to what Monty was implying.

“Oh, no. Not that I last saw. He’s still alive, I know that.” You assured the boy.

You looked up and saw a sleeping Harper above Monty. “What the hell are they doing to us?”

Right after you asked that question, Dr. Tsing came into the room with someone, who woke Harper up and dragged her to the bed near the cages.

They cut into her leg and she gasped, begging for them to not do it again. They ignored her.

“Please stop. She’s too weak.” Monty pleaded as Tsing’s assistant handed her a drill.

“Hey. Hey, stop!” You shouted as she turned it on. Monty pleaded with you, shaking the cage as she lowered the drill. Right before it touched Harper, Dante burst into the room.

“Jasper!” Monty shouted and Jasper made a beeline for him.

“Jasper?” You asked, sticking your fingers through the cage. He looked at you and almost started to cry.

The guards released you and Monty and Jasper helped you out, bringing you into his and Monty’s hug. You ignored Dr. Tsing and her complaints about the ground, remembering that Bellamy was still here somewhere.

“Go back to the dorm and tell your friends to pack their things. You’re going home.” Dante told you. Jasper thanked him and Dante left to find his son, while you helped Jasper take Monty back to the dorm.

“How did you get here?” Jasper whispered as you got on the elevator.

“Not here. I’ll explain later.”

Once you were back in the dorm, you gathered everyone around you and told them everything, after Fox gave you a change of clothes.. “Listen up. There’s a lot of confusion going around about how I’m back, but there’s no time for me to answer it right now. But we’re getting out of here; so pack your stuff.”

“Wait, they’re just letting us go?” Miller asked.

“Yeah. Right now, before they change their minds.” Jasper answered.

“What the hell is going on?” Fox asked.

“They’ve been lying to you the whole time, about everything.” You answered.

“The ark is on the ground, and we’re not safe here.” Monty told the delinquents. “Do what she says.”

Everyone picked up the pace and began to pack up their things, ready to get out of this horrible mountain. You looked at Jasper and he looked at you, giving you a little smile. Everyone was almost done packing when the doors sealed themselves shut and alarms went off.

You ran towards one of the doors and Jasper went to the other, spotting Maya standing at the end of the hall. When you looked again, your eyes met Bellamy’s, and although you were relieved he was alive, you knew him being out there wasn’t good.

The hope that radiated off of the teenagers around you was now rapidly dwindling, and you decided you might as well tell Jasper what was going on.

“Listen to me, Jasp.” You sat next to him on the bed and talked as quietly as possible. “The guard with Maya, that was Bellamy. We snuck into the mountain together. We almost made it, but they recognized me and stuck me with Harper and Monty.”

“They’re coming. Us and the grounders have an alliance, they’re gonna help get everyone out of here. Bellamy is working on taking down the acid fog, then they’re going to get us out of here. But we need to help them as much as we can.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” You confessed.

All you could do now was wait with the rest of the 46-- now 47-- teenagers and pray that you make it out alive.

Taglist:  @soullessbabee | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis | @dummythiccwitch | @sireddobrev | @gxvrielle | @hurricane-abigail | @holyhumorliteraturelight

[blodreina-noumou]

what would the show have had to have done to be considered good for you? I thoroughly enjoyed my time watching the show, so I look back at it fondly.

Oh god, where do I even begin?

For starters - if you’re one of the people who enjoyed The 100 in its entirety, good for you! That’s awesome! I don’t want to diminish that. These are just my feelings and my opinions, and I don’t intend for them to make anyone else feel bad for what they like. The ending could’ve been much worse, I’ll give it that. And there were obviously moments I enjoyed throughout the final season, and the series as a whole will still stand (unfortunately) as one of my favorites.

HOWEVER.

I found the ending thoroughly disappointing. It robbed our characters of any of the development they made in the final season, for the sake of propping up Clarke (canonically, that is why they stayed.)

The final season provided us with some really fascinating journeys for our characters. Without recapping the whole season, I can say that I really liked where Octavia, Emori, Murphy, and Echo ended up in their respective arcs. They all had to overcome their past tragedies to fulfill new roles. It was interesting and engaging.

The show itself provided us with so many interesting conflicts, with so many different groups who had competing goals and ideals. On some level, it promised us that peace was not possible until these folks all learned to work together and stop killing each other. That was the goal, all along. 

Survival of the human race was the first goal of the show, and survival of the human race is only possible if they (a) stay human and (b) survive.

Neither of those things happened by the end. The goal of our protagonists - the thing they allegedly existed for, in their stories - to save the human race and survive and thrive and all of that, did not happen for the vast majority of people.

Transcendence and the final scene on the beach erases all of the hard work they did in showing us those character journeys, and in making us invest time and energy into different groups that would only continue to suffer assimilation and homogenization by the end.

What was interesting to me about our main characters - Clarke, Bellamy, Monty, Raven, Murphy, Octavia, Emori, and Echo - was that they appeared to be the ones best suited (according to the storytellers) to save the human race.

The moment the show introduced the Grounders, I wanted a political thriller that I was probably never going to get. I accept that. 

What I cannot accept is that they erased all of their conflicts with a convenient deus ex machina, and everything that our characters learned is more or less pointless because of it. I’ll focus on their s7 arcs, but I think it applies to their entire storylines.

Octavia learns about her brother’s way of raising her and comes to forgive him for it. She becomes a parent herself. She manages to bridge the gap between two cultures yet again (Bardo and...everyone else, I guess) by falling in love with Levitt. 

She will never utilize any of those skills again. Hope no longer needs a parent. There will never be another culture different from them again. She and Levitt will never have children.

Murphy learns to put value in the group, and to recognize his own abilities as a leader and as a man. He saves multiple people in Sanctum, becoming their protector and their shield. 

Emori learns to put value in herself, and to recognize her abilities to empathize with outcasts and those deemed “less worthy” by society. She becomes a queen in her own right, a protector and a diplomat.

No one will ever need them to fulfill these roles, ever again. There was no point in them leading those people.

Echo had to go back to a deeply painful role, one which has cost her dearly in life - a spy among her enemy. When she’s brought to her lowest, to the brink of committing genocide, it’s her love for her family that keeps her from going over the edge. She reemerges as herself, recognizing that her painful past does not define her, and she can find love despite it.

Too bad the love of her life was murdered by Clarke!

I wanted our heroes to save the human race, not be the only humans that ended up saved. Does that make sense?

Clarke gets the closest thing to a happy ending of anyone, since she was the one who insisted for seven seasons that “[her] people�� were the most important thing in the world, and that she would stop at nothing to protect them. Welp, now there’s nothing to protect them from. Her genocidal rages get a little slap on the wrist and then she gets to spend an endless beach day bossing everyone around and pouting.

It just sucked.

I hate the magic hand-wave of all of the conflicts. You can try to tell me that transcendence was a choice all you want. Plenty of people chose the City of Light, too. That didn’t make the way it erased their individuality and personal goals okay. Frankly, the ending to me feels like everyone just decided to go into the City of Light anyway. And sure, they keep their bad memories and some semblance of individuality, but what do those things even mean when you just one blip of a species that works, moves, lives, and decides things as one?

They didn’t overcome their tribalism. All of the other tribes just got assimilated into the borg. And sure, they maintain some semblance of personality once they transcend - we know that because of Madi’s message to Clarke. But what kind of lives are they going to have as part of that big glowy shit? Madi never gets to grow up, or fall in love, or pet dogs again. (Picasso is always going to wonder where her new best friend went.)

And who were those alien assholes anyway? Who are they to say that their way is better, that they have the right to judge entire species based on one representative? That they can just exterminate anyone whose way of life doesn’t match up with theirs?

Our heroes didn’t save the human race. The human race turned into something else entirely, and its last survivors get to watch each other die knowing that that’s it, that’s the end of them all.

No societies. No cultures. No new art, or music, or fashion.

No children, no future. No hope. 

It’s very disappointing and scary to me. I don’t like the messaging and I don’t like the implications for the surviving characters.

There was a brief, brief moment when I saw a glimpse of an ending that I could’ve liked. When Raven says, “just give us another chance,” I was really expecting the aliens to swoop off and leave humanity to their own devices. No crystallization. No transcendence. All of the remaining groups have to come together and figure out how to thrive together. Discuss and establish a system of government that doesn’t rely on state-sanctioned child battle royales, or body snatching, or extreme restrictions on how many children people can have. Obviously, in this ending, nobody gets shot and nobody almost dies. Madi retains control of her body, somehow. Fill in the details yourself, but my ending would include just about everybody surviving.

Build a society that will grow. Let our characters take the lessons they’ve learned and apply them in a meaningful way, a lasting way. Show us that humanity will survive and will rebuild, on the planet of our birth. Let them rest, but let that rest and that peace mean something more than, “Good job! You made it to episode 100!”

Not to mention, the fact that Earth did eventually heal made everything that Monty and Harper did at the end of s5 completely pointless. Monty thought he was delivering the human race to a new hope. He was just steering them towards assimilation to the borg. I don’t think that’s the “do better” that he wanted, you know?

I could go on, but this is long enough. I’ll just end by saying this - if someone had told me, back in 2015 when I started watching, that this is how the show would end, I never would’ve started it. Not for Lexa, not for Octavia, not for anything. 

The ending made everything they went through so painfully pointless.

[kloxbian]

Promises Painted on my Skin

Synopsis: 

Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, tears that she fought to contain but a single one dripped down her cheek. Lexa brushed it away, careful to not pressure any of her bruises. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl,” she breathed. “You deserve better than this.”

-

Or the canon-divergent AU where Bellamy's an abusive bastard and Clarke is the innocent victim

WARNING: This fic contains mentions of physical and emotional abuse. If this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read.

Notes:  Okay, now, I would have done a better job with this if I didn’t finish five hours before it was posted. I wanted to lengthen it, and may eventually, but I already have many other things to write, so it won’t happen for at least a few more months, if at all.

A bit disappointing that Clexa Week is over. This is my first time joining, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ll definitely be back next year. A few of the things I’ve written are fics I never would’ve written otherwise. I’m very happy I finished it all.

Thanks to everyone who read my fics, as well as to @clexaweekofficial​ for hosting and sharing Clexa Week. You’re amazing.

-

 The two riders swerved between the trees, the sunlight shining brightly through the leaves illuminating the golden hair of their target. She didn’t look up at the sound of the horses, standing in place, her body shaking. One of the men scoffed. “Dison laik gada yu’s krei fir raun hashta (This is the girl you’re so worried about)?”

 “Em laik Skaikru. Heda na gaf em (She’s Skaikru. The Commander will want her).”

 She didn’t fight back as a rope was tied around her wrist. The rider scoffed, looping the other end around the horn of his saddle. “Kwelen (Weak).”

 “Emo Skaikru laik (All Skaikru are).”

 They turned to ride back to TonDC, a sky-fallen girl with shining golden hair behind them.

 -

 Lexa twirled her knife in her hands, sprawled lazily in her throne. The scouts were supposed to be reporting back any minute now and she frowned at wasting this time waiting instead of being able to go over her duties.

 To her right, Anya was leaning against the sturdy canvas of the tent. “If you keep playing with your weapons, Heda, you’re going to cut your fingers off.”

 The guards standing at the door of the tent shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke so casually to the commander, and when someone did, it was expected that they’d be cut down. But this was Anya. She did what she wanted.

 “If I do then you’ll be the one writing everything down for me.” Anya scoffed, looking at the sprawl of papers across the planning table. Anya was not very adept in her written language, and Lexa knew that well.

 A guard ducked into the tent. “Heda, the scouts have arrived. They bring a Skaikru with them.”

 That piqued her interest. “Send them in.”

 He backed out and moments later two scouts came in, throwing to the ground a young girl. “Heda, we found her wandering the territory alone. She was miles from her camp.”

 Lexa let her eyes linger on the girl, examining her. She was frail, skinnier than even a babe, bones jutting out of her bruised, worn skin. Her clothes hung off of her and her shoes were nonexistent, feet bloody and scraped from wandering the forest. Her golden hair, dirty and matted with mud, obscured her face from view. She didn’t move from where she’d been tossed.

 Lexa raised an eyebrow at the scouts. “Is she alive?”

 “She walked here on her own two feet. Didn’t try and fight or anything.”

 Lexa nodded, turning her eyes back to the body at her feet. “What’s your name, Skaigada?”

 She shifted then, rolling to sit on her legs. Her head stayed bowed and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and raspy. “Clarke.”

 “What were you doing outside of your camp alone?”

 She jerked, her body going stiff. “I wasn’t doing anything, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, please don’t hurt me, I-”

 Anya stepped forward. “We’ll only hurt you if you don’t answer the question!” She barked. Clarke looked up sharply, hair lying in waves over her cheeks. She shrank back, curling in on herself. “Well?”

 “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I swear!” Her voice was small and scared, pathetically weak. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to-”

 “Heda, this girl is mad,” Anya hissed, leaning in close to Lexa. “She will not tell us anything. Let me kill her and be done with it.”

 “No.” Lexa didn’t believe that. Anya called this girl - Clarke - mad, and perhaps she was, but Lexa refused to believe it. She’d heard of such cases as these, dealt with the aftermath of them, but she’d never seen anything quite like this. Clarke had no defense for herself, begged, pleaded to not be hurt, that she had been doing what she was supposed to, that he had been obedient. She acted like a dog, one that knew nothing other than obedience to its owner.

 “Onya, Gona, gyon ou.” The guards bowed and followed her command, exiting the tent without a word. Anya sent her a questioning look, one that Lexa returned with a fierce glare. Obey. Anya bowed her head and left.

 Lexa stood from her throne, stepping off the small dais. Clarke ducked her head, repeating the mantra over and over again.

 “Quiet.” Her voice was loud and commanding, stopping the young girl in her tracks. She bowed even lower, her face almost against the floor. She immediately felt guilty. Lexa crouched down in front of her. “Are you alright?” Clarke nodded, staying hunched down low. “Can you look at me?”

 She did as was asked and Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

 Lexa slowly undid her pauldron and jacket, realizing how her intimidating attire wasn’t helping the situation and wished she wasn’t decked out in warpaint and armor. “What happened to you, keron? Why are you colored so?”

 Clarke began to visibly shake. “I was bad. I deserved any punishment he saw fit.”

 “What did you do?”

 Clarke once again lowered her head. “I ate too much food. He said that it could have fed someone more in need of it instead of a- instead of me.”

 “Why did you take more food?”

 Clarke’s shaking got more violent and she bit her lip. “I was hungry. He only gave me a piece of what everyone else was having and when Octavia and Raven offered me more I thought- I thought it would be okay.”

 Lexa’s heart broke. She reached forward, hesitating before gently resting her hand on Clarke’s cheek, coaxing her head back up. Her entire body trembled, torn between accepting the touch or rejecting it. Clarke stood still, though, taking whatever was given.

 Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, tears that she fought to contain but a single one dripped down her cheek. Lexa brushed it away, careful to not pressure any of her bruises. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl,” she breathed. “You deserve better than this.”

 Clarke looked nervously at her face, opening her mouth as if to speak but thinking better of it. Lexa dropped a hand from her face, delicately taking Clarke’s own. “You can speak freely.”

 She bit her lip nervously. “What’s going to happen to me? Are you going to send me back?”

 “I will if you want to,” Lexa said, not even thinking about what her generals would say about it. “But I’d like for you to stay here. You shouldn’t have to go back to anyone who treats you like this.”

 “NO!” Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, fingers hesitantly linking with hers. “No. Please don’t send me back. I don’t want to go back.”

 “Then you won’t,” Lexa said, ducking down to look Clarke in the eye. “You’ll be safe here. I promise that whoever did this to you will never touch you again.”

 Clarke took a shaky breath in and nodded. “Thank you.”

 Lexa smiled, watching Clarke smile back, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It was nothing more than polite. Lexa vowed to kill whoever would dare do such a thing to this sweet girl.

 “I thought…I thought I was supposed to meet the commander,” Clarke croaked. “That’s what those men said.”

 “The scouts, yes.” Lexa stood, offering a hand down to Clarke. She took it, still quivering slightly. “And you have.”

 “I have…” Clarke looked at the throne behind Lexa and her eyes widened. She stumbled back, falling back down to her knees. “I’m sorry, commander, I-”

 “No no no, be quiet, sweet girl,” Lexa rushed over to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you, and I’ll make sure no one else does either.”

 Clarke’s eyes held some of the same feral instinct they had earlier. “But- why?”

 “Because you don’t deserve what’s been given to you.” Lexa helped her to her feet, tracing the bruises on her face ever so lightly. “No one deserves this. To be owned. I want you to have a chance to be yourself, keron.”

 “I-” Clarke began to cry, pulling away to wipe furiously at her tears. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be good.”

 “Don’t think like that.” Lexa took her hands once more, rubbing them soothingly. “You don’t have to please anyone here. Yes, there are rules you will have to follow, people you will have to obey, but you will not be punished for being hungry nor anything so meager.”

 Clarke nodded, her stomach growling at the mere mention of food. Lexa gently released her hands. “Come, sweet girl. I will get you food enough that you won’t want to eat for days.”

 -

 Lexa knocked lightly on the poles that held up the tent she’d set Clarke up in. She heard a quiet acknowledgment from inside and ducked beneath the tarp.

 Clarke was sitting on a small wooden table that had been set up in the corner, staring at the fur-covered cot. There were heavy bags under her eyes that had only gotten worse since yesterday.

 “Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa greeted, standing a few feet away. “Did you sleep well?”

 “Fine.” Clarke’s voice was dry and cracked. Lexa frowned, stepping closer. Clarke held up a shaky hand. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just… not used to it.”

 Lexa cocked her head. “Not used to what?”

 “This.” Clarke waved her hand at the bed. “Having comfort, and having it all to myself. At the dropship, and even before that, I never had anything this good. Not anything that was mine.”

 “If you would rather a different arrangement I would be happy to find something more suitable for you.”

 “No, this is fine. It’s just different. I’ll get used to it.” Clarke looked over at Lexa for the first time since she’d stepped into the tent. “Thank you, commander. This is the most anyone’s ever done for me.”

 “Of course, sweet girl.” Clarke blushed slightly at the name, eyes flickering from Lexa’s face to the ground. “And please, call me Lexa. Just when we’re alone.”

 Clarke’s blush deepened and she nodded. Lexa smiled. “Come sit on the bed with me. It’s time we talked about what you will be doing.”

 Lexa gave her a quick overview of the Trikru and TonDC, laying out the do’s and don’t, what was considered offensive and appropriate. The rules were laid out, also quite simple, and Clarke sat in silence, listening intently. She was determined to fit into this new environment, where she was being given a chance to start over without a neglecting parent and overbearing ‘friend,’ though being with Lexa she was beginning to realize that he was not someone she should consider under that term.

 “The question I pose to you is what do you want to do?” Lexa asked. “If you want to become one of us, you will need to earn your keep. There are many ways to.”

 Clarke shrugged. “I was the healer back at the dropship, and my - my mother is a doctor.”

 “You are a fisa.” Lexa nodded. “We could get you set up with Nyko if you wish to continue pursuing that here.”

 Clarke bit her lip, chewing on it thoughtfully. “I want to, but would that be all I would do? I don’t want to be cooped up in a hospital all day, even if it is to help people.”

 Lexa rolled the word hospital over in her head a few times before she realized it meant their infirmary. “I suppose we could try and find someone willing to train you half-time. Though I warn you, it may eventually reach a point where you will be forced to choose between one or the other.”

 Clarke exhaled slowly. “What are the options?”

 “There are many. The most abundant are the gona, our warriors, defenders, guardsmen. I hope we will not have so many in the future now that all the clans are at peace but there are still many threats.”

 “Like my people?”

 “Sha, like the Skaikru. And the Maunon.” Lexa folded her hands together on her lap. “A few of the other jobs you could take around TonDC include a merchant, cook, seamstress, stonemason, and a wide array of different crafts. We’d have to teach you our language before you could find a mentor, as only the gona can speak gonasleng, but whatever you like we could find a job for.”

 Clarke tapped her fingers nervously on her thigh. “Your warriors, what exactly do they do?”

 Lexa cocked her head, pleasantly surprised to find the girl looking into a gona. “They do many things, some depending on how good of a fighter they are. We have guardsmen who take shifts standing at the gates, regulating trade and keeping watch for any potential threats. There are the personal guards like mine, who are assigned to a figure of power and it is their duty to keep that person defended. Some that are more adept with long-range weapons will help to hunt. If you were to take on the role of a gona, if there ever was a large conflict you would be called upon to fight.”

 Clarke’s face was scrunched up in thought. “This… might be a bit much to ask, but could I be taught to fight without officially becoming a warrior?”

 “That is not at all much to ask. There are many gona who only fight when called upon, and have duties as craftsmen or merchants when not required. It would be a good match if you don’t want to commit to a full-time job as a healer, and would do well to fill up your time.”

 Clarke nodded. “Then that’s what I want to do.”

 Lexa smiled. She was proud of Clarke despite only knowing her for, well, less than a day. She still had a strong spirit within her, one that, with the proper care, could rise to the surface and ignite. Lexa felt that learning how to stand up for herself physically was the perfect start for her. “Good. I have someone in mind who I think you would like.” Clarke smiled shyly at her and Lexa couldn’t help but grin back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have another question to ask you.”

 “What is it?”

 Lexa squeezed her hands almost painfully tight. “I am only here in TonDC to deal with the Skaikru. Once a decision has been made about how to deal with them, I will be returning to the capital to rule. You don’t have to decide now, but I would ask if you’d like to accompany me to Polis and make a home there. It’s much larger, and has many more opportunities.”

 “Where is it?”

 Lexa dared to hope. “It’s about a four-day ride to the east. We would be going further from the ‘dropship,’ I believe you call it. If Skaikru were to cause trouble, you would be less likely to have to deal with it in Polis than here.”

 Clarke nodded. “Then yes. I want to go.”

 Lexa frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want more time to consider? You can decide closer to my departure.”

 “I’m sure. I want to be as far away as possible.”

 “Okay.” Lexa smiled shyly. “We’ll depart once Indra and I have agreed on how to handle the skai people. For now,” she stood from the bed, offering a hand down to Clarke. “Would you like to break your fast with me?”

 Clarke nodded, hesitantly taking Lexa’s hand. She squeezed it tight as she led her out of the tent, releasing once back out in public.

 Clarke scampered after her nervously, looking around warily. “There are so many people.”

 “There are many people in the tribes, and Trikru is the most populous.” She took in Clarke’s anxious expression. “I promise that everyone here is loyal to me. You will not be harmed.” Clarke nodded.

 Lexa took them into the pavilion, ignoring the elevated table meant for her and the other generals, sitting herself and Clarke down in a secluded corner after snagging two plates of food. “If you wish, I can have you start on your training after we eat.”

 Clarke perked up at that. “Which one?”

 “Whichever you like. It is early, so the infirmary would be slow and Nyko would have time to teach you our ways of healing. If you’d rather start the physical training, I can have your planned mentor brought in.”

 “Planned mentor?”

 “Yes. There is a certain person I have in mind who is adept at combat but is one of the kindest, most gentle souls I know. He looks a bit intimidating, but I think you will like him.” Lexa’s mind wandered. She hadn’t seen Indra’s son (she was still unsure of whether it was biological or adoptive) since her last checkup almost a year ago. It would be nice to catch up.

 Clarke shifted, looking uncomfortable with answering. “Can I do the physical training first?”

 “If that is what you want.” Lexa hated how uncomfortable Clarke seemed with making the decision herself. She wondered how long it had been since she’d been able to do so.

 She would fix this broken girl. Even at the sacrifice of her heart.

 -

 Lexa was in the middle of explaining all the different weapons to Clarke when she felt her draw in closer, her breath accelerating.

 She turned to see Lincoln entering the arena, still in his scout outfit. He dipped his head politely to her. “Heda.”

 “Hello, Lincoln. Lovely to see you again.”

 He smiled. “The pleasure’s all mine, sister.” 

 She felt Clarke press herself as close to Lexa’s side as she could without actually touching her, talking so quietly Lexa had to strain to hear. “He’s your brother?”

She smiled at that. “Brother in all but blood. Lincoln and I grew up together.” She looked back at her friend. “Lincoln, this is Clarke. She comes from the Skaikru, but I have agreed to accept her under my command.”

Lincoln frowned, switching to Trig. “Choumoda, Heda? Yeson yu don gaf emo in ste daun (Why, Commander? Yesterday you wanted them dead).”

She clucked her tongue, considering telling Lincoln of Clarke’s situation. She knew he could be trusted with it, but would Clarke want him to have it? Likely not. “Em laik noseim. En’s nou get yu daun (She is different. It’s not your concern).”

She changed back to English for Clarke’s sake. “Lincoln, I’d like to ask if you could help train Clarke in the ways of our warriors. She is inexperienced from her time with the Skaikru and wishes to learn.”

“I’d be happy to teach her.” He looked at Clarke, smiling politely. “Hello, Clarke.”

Clarke eyed him warily, muttering a quiet ‘hello.’

Lexa turned to her. “Clarke, this is Lincoln. He may be large, but he is very gentle and wouldn’t ever hurt you. If it’s okay with you, I’d like for him to be the one to train you. He is one of the few I trust.”

Clarke stared at him for a minute, wide-eyed and afraid, before mumbling a quiet “okay.”

Lexa smiled. “Wonderful. If you would like to begin now, I can stay for a bit longer to watch.”

Clarke nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Alright then. I’ll stay a bit longer.” She turned to her friend. “Lincoln?”

“I will train her whenever you require of me.” He dipped his head respectfully to her.

“I know you will.” Lexa gave Clarke one last smile before departing from the arena, leaning against the side railings to observe.

It was a process, but they’d push through it.

-

Their swords clashed with a fly of sparks.

Clarke slipped under her opponent’s sword, darting to the left and letting them stumble forward with their momentum. It only took them a second to rebalance, spinning to block Clarke’s swipe from behind.

Clarke danced back, just barely avoiding a leg aiming to knock her down. She dodged every slash and stab, keeping on the defense, never making a move. She knew that her opponent was getting frustrated.

She rolled beneath a swing at her shoulder, contorting herself to kick them in the back of the knee. It gave out and sent them to the ground.

Clarke was on her feet in an instant, driving her sword down. They twisted out of the way, lunging up and grabbing Clarke by the wrist. They began to twist and Clarke cursed aloud as she dropped her sword, lashing out with her foot and hitting them in the stomach. They lurched forward slightly before they were rising back to their feet, and Clarke looked at her sword wistfully, knowing she had no time to retrieve it. She’d have to do without.

Her opponent’s blade was coming back toward her. She smacked it away by the flat, moving closer and throwing a fist. They caught it in their free hand, a foot wrapping around her ankles and sending her flat on her back. The cold metal fell against her neck before she could move. “Set yu daun.”

Clarke put her hands above her head. “Ai giv op.”

The blade left her throat and she heard the sharp shriek of a sword being sheathed. A hand came into her vision, one which she gladly accepted. “You did well, Clarke. That’s the longest time yet.”

She preened in her mentor’s praise. “Mochof, Onya.”

“Indeed. I have no doubt you could hold your own against any esteemed warrior.” Clarke smiled widely as Lexa wandered into the arena, greeting Anya with a firm clasp and returning Clarke’s beaming smile.

Clarke smirked. “Even you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go quite that far.” 

Clarke scoffed in mock annoyance, appreciating Lexa’s quiet laugh. At the far end of the arena, there was nobody near enough to witness their commander drop her mask in front of her mentor and companion. “Oh, don’t you get egotistical too. Anya’s already too much to handle.”

Anya grinned, pointing the end of her knife (who knows where it came from) at her. “You’re spichen right, and you’d do best to remember it.”

“Just don’t train her too well,” Lexa teased. “You might make her better than you.”

“Oh, please, I’ve learned from that mistake. You’re bad enough.” They laughed, falling into step walking side by side back toward the tower, Clarke proudly flanking her Heda’s side.

She, Lexa, and Lincoln had left TonDC to travel to Polis only a week and a half after Clarke’s arrival. The Skaikru, it was decided, were to be given clear boundaries not to cross. Guards patrolled along the river, keeping them away from the mountain and the capitol. Due to their proximity to the Mountain, there were no villages in the opposite direction and the Skaikru were forced to expand in that direction, leaving the Trikru safe for now. If they were to retaliate, the offenders would be taken prisoner and punished accordingly.

Clarke had fallen in love with Polis and its culture. Lexa, despite her many duties, took the time to teach Clarke as much as she could about the tribes, the customs and folklore, as well as their language. Trigedasleng wasn’t a hard tongue to learn, but it was harsh and took her mouth time to adjust before she could produce some of the rougher sounds.

She’d come to see Lexa as her dearest friend. Even if she was the commander, a legendary force spoken of as more goddess than human, she’d shown Clarke her other side, the side of her that had survived the burdens of leadership. Her youthful, innocent side was what a twenty-year-old should be like. She took responsibility for Clarke, not in the way Bellamy had, but in the way of a caretaker. She’d thought she loved before, but Lexa was so much more.

When Lincoln had exhausted his skills, she’d been tossed around by multiple people until Lexa convinced her to give Anya a chance. Anya was tough, but she knew what was too much, and she had also been given a very watered-down version of the blonde’s story. With knowledge of Clarke’s past, she took certain measures to make her disciple was comfortable.

She had also settled in well as a healer’s apprentice. Her foreign medical skills had proved beneficial to expanding their capabilities, though it wasn’t always easy to replicate considering they were much more underdeveloped technology-wise. She’d met many people through that apprenticeship and was very recognizable as the quiet healer; especially with how vibrant her hair was. 

The most vocal opposer to her position was, of course, Titus. But nobody really cared what he had to say.

Anya split off from them in the tower, heading off to meet with the official Trikru ambassador (Both Lexa and Indra had wanted Anya to have the position, but it would be viewed as biased by the other clans) while Lexa led Clarke to her personal quarters. She called for a meal to be brought to them and they both sat down on the couch.

“Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice serious. “A letter arrived from Indra earlier today. It’s about the Skaikru.”

Clarke stiffened. Lexa reached over to tangle their hands. “She wrote that they approached the border, asking for an audience. It was granted, and Indra met with them personally. She said they’re asking for our help to survive, but don’t have anything to offer in return. She would take them in as one of her people, but they refuse, asking to stay separate from us.” Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke’s hand. “I’m telling you this not only because they are your origin, but because Indra’s asked permission to forward them to me. And I accepted.”

Clarke was silent. Lexa squeezed her hand, worried about how she was dealing but not willing to push her. After a moment, she spoke. “Who?”

“There is an Oktevia, Reivon, Montee, Jeisper, and Belomi.” Lexa heard Clarke’s breath falter, watched her eyes widen, and pleaded to the spirits it didn’t mean what she thought it did. But it did. She knew it did. So she let go of Clarke’s hand, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and tucking her into her side.

Lexa sat there rubbing her arm for a few minutes, pressing soft kisses to her hair, before muttering, “Clarke?”

She said nothing. Lexa tried again. “Sweet girl, are you alright?”

Despite her anxiety, she felt her stomach warm at the pet name. She shook mutely against Lexa’s chest. Lexa rested a hand on her cheek, kissing her temple long and slow before resting her cheek on her head. Letting Clarke work out what she needed.

It took time, but eventually, Clarke tried to talk, only to dissolve into choked coughing. Lexa didn’t falter. “Which one?”

She had to take a couple of deep breaths to reign herself in. “The last one.”

“And the others?”

Reivon - Raven, probably - she didn’t know, but the others… “Octavia and Monty were always nice to me. They tried to help when they could, but he had the support of most of the camp. They’d back him up if anyone ever challenged him.” Her mind drifted back to her two friends, smiling slightly. If there was anything she missed from her old life, it was them. “Jasper was nice, but he was too afraid to do anything about it. He would just stand there and watch.”

Lexa scowled. “He is a coward. Just as most of them are.”

Clarke nodded, remembering back to when Jasper had been speared in the chest, the panic that ensued. “On the Ark, they’re still children.”

“Branwodas,” Lexa scoffed. “Even a yongon knows right from wrong.”

Clarke shrugged. “Some of them do.”

The affection in her voice made Lexa pause. “You mean Oktevia and Montee?”

 “A couple others, too, but yes.”

“Would you like me to arrange for them to meet you? I know you could seek them out yourself, but if you’d rather not risk the others…”

Clarke smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

“Then I will make it happen.” She leaned down, nuzzling her cheek. “I will be there if you need anything, and there is no one in Polis who would let anything happen to you. You will be safe.”

Clarke nodded, turning to bury her face in Lexa’s arm. She smiled softly, stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she mumbled into her skin.

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

-

The day the Skaikru arrived, Clarke didn’t leave her room.

Lexa visited her the following morning. Clarke was curled up in the armchair, her sketchpad resting on her legs. She wasn’t drawing, only staring at a blank white page.

Lexa leaned down behind her, kissing her cheek. “You cannot stay here all day.”

Clarke’s voice was quiet, broken. “What if he tries to take me back?”

“He could never.” Lexa wrapped an arm around her chest. “You are so much stronger than you were. Should he try, you could shame him enough that he’d never want to see you again. You are strong.”

She could see that Clarke was still hesitant. “If it makes you feel better, I can ask Anya or Ryder to accompany you around the city.”

She bit her lip. “Please?”

“Of course.” She stood up. “Come to breakfast with me. The Skaikru won’t be there.”

Clarke nodded, tilting her head back. Lexa leaned down to kiss her on the lips, leaving it at a quick press. She heard her groan as Lexa moved over to the door, laughing. “Come enjoy breakfast and I’ll give you more.”

Clarke set her items down on the chair, not bothering to put them away properly. Lexa grinned widely at her, sharing one last short kiss before she slipped into commander mode, all emotion falling from her face. With her kohl on (all for the intent to scare the Skaikru) she was a terrifying figure, but Clarke could see through it all. Beneath all the armor and strength was her loving niron who’d taken her in without anything in it for herself, saving Clarke from a life of servitude.

But no one could know that.

-

Clarke had been training with Anya for the past hour, all of her worries forgotten. She was taking a quick break now, gladly accepting a pouch of water from one of the guards. She downed half of it, pouring some on her hands and rubbing her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw three familiar figures standing at the railing.

A grin threatened to split her face. Octavia, Monty, Jasper, and another girl leaned against the fence watching her. With Clarke’s attention, Octavia waved. “Hey!”

She strode over to them, forgetting to bring her sword. She and Octavia shared a hug, Monty more hesitant to show her any affection after knowing what Bellamy had done. When she opened her arms to him, he sighed in relief, happily accepting it. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “Did they capture you?”

Shit. She’d forgotten about how much the grounders were hated within the Skaikru. “No, not at all. I ran from camp, and they brought me to their town. The commander was there, and she made sure I was comfortable.”

“The commander?” The unknown brunette said, hands twitching idly. “The scary lady can be nice?”

Clarke was tempted to tell her about their relationship but knew better. Even if it would get a hilarious reaction out of them. “I don’t know how, but she was able to tell that I came from a… less than ideal situation. She took me in, offered to bring me to Polis, and I’ve made a life here. It’s amazing. They aren’t anything like we thought they were.”

“Really?” Jasper said. “Did they apologize for spearing me in the chest?”

“They didn’t know who we were,” Clarke said. “We were unknown intruders in their land. You can’t blame them for that.”

“Then who should I blame? Myself?”

“Clarke!” 

She glanced over her shoulder to see Anya in the middle of the pit, waiting impassively for her. She turned back to smile at her friends. “Sorry. I’ll talk to you more later, I promise.”

She ignored their questions and darted back over to grab her sword, standing across from Anya. Her fos unsheathed her sword, nodding over to the fence. “You ready to show off to your friends?”

She smirked. “Hell yes.”

Anya began to advance. Clarke positioned her sword defensively in front of her, body tensed, ready to move however she needed. The first attack came right at her neck, a reckless and normally outright stupid move, but this was Anya. Her other hand knocked Clarke’s sword away, leg coming up to kick her in the stomach. She grunted, stumbling back. She charged once she’d regained her senses, meeting Anya in the middle.

The loud clang of their swords reverberated throughout the pits, telling of the immense force put in by both sides. Clarke dodged a swipe at her legs, aiming a stab at Anya’s shoulder while using her free arm to grab at her opponent’s wrist. She twisted out of the way, recovering too quickly for Clarke to take advantage of her pause.

They fought for some time, Clarke gaining small cuts on her arms, her torso, her legs, even a tiny nick just below her ear. Aware of their audience, Anya went for the most impressive disarming maneuver she knew. Hooking an arm around Clarke’s hip, she used the momentum to swing her over her shoulder and slam her into the ground. Anya’s sword fell against her throat.

“Yu win au. Bilaik otaim (You win. Like always).” 

Anya smirked, helping Clarke to her feet. “That is why I am teaching you. Because you aren’t as good as me.”

“Uh-huh. Show off.”

“Oh, I couldn’t help it.” Anya looked over at the fence. “You should have seen their faces.”

Clarke looked over and grinned at the awestruck expressions they wore. With Anya’s permission, she went over to them.

Octavia reached for her, pausing last second before dropping her hands to her sides. “Oh my god! That was amazing!”

Clarke blushed. “Thanks.”

“Thanks? That’s all you have to say? You just blew my fucking mind! Do you think you could teach me to do that?”

“Woah, O, slow down,” the brunette said. “Let her breathe.” She held a hand out to her. “Hey. I’m Raven. I’ve heard a lot about you from these bitches.”

“She says like she isn’t the bitchiest of us all,”  Jasper said. They all laughed.

“They’re right, Clarke.” She felt a bolt of electricity go through her, stiffening all her muscles and freezing her in place. “That was impressive.”

She ground her teeth together, trying to reel in her disorganized mind. The four at the fence had quieted, heads watching him, but Clarke refused to look at him. She was afraid of what she would do.

“Look at me, Clarke.” Her first instinct was to obey. She fought against it as much as she could, struggling against her fear. “I said look at me.”

“She doesn’t answer to you, Skai boy.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Anya hovered beside her shoulder, resting a comforting hand on Clarke’s back. With her fos by her side, she risked a look.

Bellamy didn’t look any different than when she’d left him, maybe a bit more ragged. He was still the entitled, arrogant boy he’d been before, but Clarke felt her head pulse. He doesn’t own you, she thought, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra. He doesn’t own you.

Bellamy scowled. “And who are you?”

“That’s none of your concern, and neither is my sekon.” Anya’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “We should get back to the tower, Clarke.”

“No.” She wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn’t he just let her go? “You can’t make her go.”

“And you can’t make her stay.”

Bellamy snarled. “Just back off! Clarke, come here.”

Anya was about to retort, but Clarke raised a hand, looking Bellamy straight in the eye, blocking out her instinct. “No.”

He was taken aback. “No? You don’t tell me no, Clarke. Come here.”

Her hand went to her sword before changing her mind, instead drawing a dagger from her coat. “Make me.”

Bellamy growled, striding toward her. She knew the tactic, he’d used it on her many times before. Intimidation. Make her think he was going to do something worse than he would. She wouldn’t fall for it again. Drawing back her arm, she aimed her dagger at his throat. He paused, but continued, walking until he was only a few feet from the fence.

With a quick look at Anya, she threw the knife.

Clarke wasn’t a killer, no matter how much Bellamy deserved it. The knife struck his arm, far enough to not cause any major damage, but he went down howling. Ignoring the startled looks from everyone around, she turned and marched out of the pits. With a last scalding look, Anya followed.

Anya left the elevator a couple of floors beneath Clarke while she carried on to one of the very top floors. Pushing through the doors, she fell back against them as soon as they fell closed, clutching her chest. She’d done it. She’d resisted her captor, she’d finally escaped his hold. Before, she’d known that Bellamy still held a part of her, that she still feared his influence, but now that she’d stood up to him, she finally felt… free.

“Clarke?” She perked up, a wide grin spreading on to her face. Lexa stood in the doorway between her solar and bedchambers, looking curiously at her niron. “Did something happen?”

Her heart swelled, looking upon her lover, her savior, perhaps the most important person in her life. Her smile threatened to split her face in half. “I did it, Lex,” she breathed. “I- he tried. He tried, but I did it. I’m free.”

Lexa matched her beam, rushing toward her. They met in the middle, Lexa sweeping her up into her arms and lifting her off the ground. Clarke laughed as kisses were peppered all over her face. “I’m so proud of you, keron,” Lexa said, kissing her passionately. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss her softly. “Without you, I’d still be with him.”

Lexa squeezed her tight. “I’m glad you aren’t. I’m so glad you aren’t. You don’t deserve that life. You never did.”

“And now I have a better one.” They shared bright smiles, kissing messily. Clarke leaned into her. This life was something she’d never expected to get.

Lexa’s hands pet her face, stroking her cheeks and making her groan into the kiss.

Yes; she could ask for nothing more.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Atlantis 4

Previously on Atlantis

The morning came, steady and through flickering lights against the window, unstill and blinding like a disco ball and lava lamp worked together to form a hybrid. Even behind her eyelids, the patient could see the light dancing through the waters and window before trying to make her join the land of the living yet again. 

The oil she was given to rub on her bruises smelled like sweet mint, and it stiffened slightly in the night on her rib, while the kelp compress left nothing more than a pale cut on her forehead and bruising around her eyes. With a small grunt, Clarke gave up to the whims of the underwater world, and opened her eyes as she pressed a hand against the soreness that slept still, sound and happy, in her muscles and bones. 

Slowly, still fuzzy around the edges from the concussion, the world came into focus again, and Clarke found herself staring at the ceiling of the ornate room that had become her own during her stay. Rich blues and whites mingled in the most pristine and perfect marble she’d ever seen, while the rich tapestry that covered one wall burst forth in colors and a story, artfully done and purposeful. 

Two days ago, she’d been on a research vessel in the middle of the ocean working with her mentor to discover a way to stunt evolutionary tendencies in viruses. Two days ago, she was a girl who didn’t fully believe in the myth of Atlantis, or that Aquaman was a king who ruled more people who could breathe under water. 

But she woke up again in a bed that smelled like oranges and sunlight, wrapped in a blanket that was soft and stiff, like clothes dried on a clothesline. She’d eaten a dinner that consisted of her third grade favorite lunchbox lunch, with a reigning monarch in said potentially imaginary underwater country. And nothing made sense. 

With no small showing of effort, Clarke propped herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, testing her body all over again, learning how it worked today, and being slightly amazed by how well it felt. The lingering soreness felt like she’d worked out too hard for a whole week straight, but was by no means as terrible as she’d felt less than ten hours ago. She sat there for a few moments and caught her breath, afraid to test her body, but knowing that she must. Clarke pushed herself from the bed and stood, balancing like a baby deer on its new legs. 

Everything seemed to work well enough, and she was afraid of the potential pain, but true to the words she couldn't understand, the body began to heal and she found herself wincing for nothing at all. 

“I guess I just put more on,” Clarke wondered aloud as she looked at the table across the room that held the ointments and bottles. “But what… how did she combine them?” 

Making it across the room, she picked up an intricate bottle and tugged at the stopped, sniffing the inside as a black liquid sloshed about, seen through the pure blue of the bottle. The door cracked and began to open, and the new sound made Clarke drop the bottle so it shattered on the ground, covering the pristine floor with a rather stale smelling liquid. 

“I’m sorry-- I didn’t-- I wasn’t sure anyone would come in, and I wanted to--”

“Ti káneis na-eme?” the same old woman asked, hurrying as much as her old bones and bent back would allow. “Tha dilitiriásete ton eaftó sas.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“Kínisi!”

The nurse pushed Clarke slightly as she began cleaning up the dropped liquid, careful to avoid touching it as best she could. Somewhere between shooting her a look and muttering something Clarke was certain was a curse, the nurse humphed and began cleaning up the shattered glass, her displeasure clearly apparent. 

A knock  tapped softly for a moment as Clarke proceeded to apologize again and get pushed away from trying to help. And if she couldn’t get more mortified of her current predicament, the embodiment of earthly perfection entered the room with a worried furrow. 

“I just came to see if you would like breakfast,” Lexa offered, staring at the mess and offering her forearm to Clarke to help move her away from the clean up. “But it looks like you might be busy. Eínai óla kalá?”

“Peismatáris kai adéxia. Léte óti eínai meletitís?”

The princess chuckled and tried to swallow it when Clarke gave her a pointed look. 

“That’s a very concentrated combination of venoms and plants, used as a slight numbing agent in the healing process,” she explained, translating very loosely. “More than a few drops would paralyze or potentially kill you.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” 

“You weren’t. She just finds it very difficult to believe you are someone who studies medicine.” 

In an instant, Clarke snapped her eyes away from Lexa’s pretty green ones, and turned them on the old woman who put the discarded vial in her basket before setting up for another treatment. 

“She should teach me instead of letting me nearly kill myself.”

“Althea is our best healer. She helped deliver me, and my mother, and my mother’s mother and father. Her knowledge would take you years to even start to understand.” 

“Are you calling me dumb, too?” 

“No, no,” Lexa hurried as Clarke crossed her arms. “Just that she knows enough to fill an entire library. She wrote the books on our modern methods. Books is plural.” 

“I’m pretty sure she’s called me dumb a few times,” Clarke sighed as those elderly hands tugged on her shirt once again. 

“She has,” the princess smiled and nodded. “I was--”

In an instant, her shirt was tugged up again, and Clarke realized that she was now showing off her stomach and ribs and much too much underboob to the future ruler of a futuristic underwater country that no one was ever allowed to visit. But she was stuck, and the princess was staring. Clarke knew that because she tried to maintain eye contact to pretend nothing bad was happening to her. 

“Um, I was…,” Lexa furrowed again before quickly turning around when she met Clarke’s eyes. “I’m sorry. She’s much more intent on getting you better than we might have previously realized.” 

“Whatever she’s doing is working. I feel better than I could have imagined.” 

“Léei óti aisthánetai kalýtera,” Lexa explained. 

Clarke watched as the old woman moved with her eyes nearly shut, the wrinkles covering every part of her face, wearing deep the long lines of living into her very fabric. All she did was hum slightly and press another compress to Clarke’s ribs. 

“How do I… I want to thank her, for everything.” 

The nurse tugged on Clarke’s jaw, pulling at her shoulders so that she could get a good reach on the wound on her head, repeating her process, though slightly more gently than the ribs. 

“Efcharistó,” Lexa explained, peaking over her shoulder, thankful to find the stranger more clothed than before. 

“Ef--ef--,” Clarke tasted the word, attempting her best to get over the hump of saying it. “Efcharistó?” 

For a second, the woman paused and nodded slightly. Clarke smiled and looked down at her side before holding her hand against the fresh press while Lexa spoke with the healer, bowing deeply to her before earning a kiss on her forehead and a tap of a hand against her cheek. 

Freshly ready to heal, Clarke felt full in the room with Lexa, and wasn’t sure what else there was to say or do. It took Lexa a moment to find the protocol. 

“I came to see if you would like to eat, and… I can’t show you much, but you’ll be here for a few days while we prepare the Spindrift, and I could show you some things.” 

“You don’t have to supervise. I’m sure you have other… princess things to do?” 

“My mother is busy with her embassy, and my father is busy saving the planet. I currently have nothing planned,” Lexa explained, clasping her hands and letting them hang in front of her. 

The crest on her shoulder was proud and ancient. The soft fall of her braids against the deep green and cream color of her frock was picture perfect, and all before breakfast was even served. The princess held an entire world together, and she was going to be the link between words, born of both. 

And she was gracious enough to save Clarke’s life in her spare time. 

“And I had a few questions about Land… if that’s okay?” 

“Breakfast first,” Clarke decided, her smile warming as Lexa returned it at the offer. 

“I can do that.” 

XXXXXXXXX

“So this is just one of your gardens?” Clarke asked as she walked out onto the balcony that was so large she forgot it was suspended partly above the city. 

Stacked, the buildings seemed dripping in greenery and elaborately inlaid, as if every story was intricately planned and prepared. There were bits that reminded Clarke of old textbooks or picture books from when she was a child and went through Egyptian and Greek Gods phases of learning. Giant statues, with limited features but strong poses, warriors and thinkers alike, stood guard throughout the city from the view. Towering figures held up buildings, while greenery and trees filled every inch, weaving together a lattice roof over the shops and buildings below. Sleek lines dictated the skyline. 

Standing on the private balcony garden, Clarke surveyed much of the city she’d missed from her window view of the palaces back patios and gates. Now, she saw the dome that sat around the city, saw the architecture, felt the breathing, pulsating thrum of the entire place. 

“It is. We have a few royal gardens. Some of the most prized and ancient plants are here, and are often open to the public.” 

“But not today?” 

“Only during the high holidays.” 

It was lush and alive, the entire city was a steady noise and hum, but the gardens were quietly removed from it, shadowed in giant trees and overgrown shrubs she couldn’t quite place. Every way Clarke looked, she found something mesmerizing, something that brought up more questions, something she knew she’d never see again. 

“How do you… How did you get all of this here?” 

“Atlantis has always existed, even before the shift,” Lexa explained, her hands careful linked behind her back. 

She walked perfectly straight, her gait natural and fixed, her body fluid. Clarke caught herself watching the princess as much as she watched the entire world around her that no other person who walked on land had ever seen. Chestnut hair in intricate braids, her strong brow, the green of her eyes, the soft slope of her chin and smile-- it was distracting, even in a palace. 

“And you can breathe… underwater?” 

The princess ducked her head and chuckled. 

“Yes, all Atlanteans can breathe both. Evolution was as kind to us as the gods were.” 

“I have so many questions, I can’t decide where to start.” 

The pair wandered along the path as Clarke  wracked her brain and overheated with the information. Lexa saw to it that they were left alone and undisturbed, the palace gates shut tightly and all entrances to the garden monitored by the guards she trusted the most. For just a few moments, she allowed herself to enjoy the company of the girl she saved, who had a peculiar way of looking at things, who blushed sometimes, right on the edge of cheeks. 

“Maybe don’t ask any questions,” Lexa offered after a moment of quiet as they came to the edge. She took a seat on a planter wall under a flowering tree with big blue and purple petals. “Just live this moment.” 

“Is that what you do here?” 

“I do tend to enjoy my time in my home, yes.” 

Clarke took a seat beside the princess, careful to hold her ribs as she readjusted. 

“I want to know everything. It’s a curse, I’m afraid.” 

“I suppose I’d be the same way on land,” Lexa acquiesced. “I wouldn’t know where to even begin, but something about sitting here, feeling, touching, tasting, hearing-- it’ll help you understand Atlantis more than any question.” 

“I would actually imagine that the few questions I have about the field surrounding the city, or the evolutionary tactic of breathing underwater might be illuminating.” 

Again, Lexa caught herself smiling, but she swallowed it and looked up at the light filtering through the branches and petals. She closed her eye and took a deep breath, willing the visitor to do the same. 

Neither spoke, but rather took the time to enjoy each other’s company and the quiet moment that neither world would ever know about. Clarke listened, catching a far away laugh of a child playing something. She heard a hum and a rushing of water, she heard the long, drawn out caws of some kind of bird that existed within the microcosm. After a few minutes, she reached up and plucked a petal from the tree, careful not to disturb the rest of the large flower on the branch. It took up her entire hand, and she rubbed her fingers along it, feeling the thick, velvet touch it had, smelling the sweet, musky hint it hid. 

Lexa watched as the stranger felt her world, and she wasn’t sure what she expected from Clarke, but she hadn’t expected her words to be taken quite to heart. For an instant, she almost believed she could see when Clarke began to understand and feel it, the ease and peace that came in the gardens. 

“When I was young, maybe only five or six, my father took me on land,” Lexa explained. “He introduced me to his father. We went to a building, shaped like a long tube that had a light on top. He said it was where he grew up, and he showed me all of his things, and my grandfather showed me his world. I remember the taste of the salt in the air and the smell of the fishermen coming home. I remember the feeling of the net in my hand as I played with it. I remember my father sitting on top of this light with me, and he pointed to the entire world. I could see for miles and miles. He told me it was my job to protect my people from those on land, and it was my job to protect the land from all else. That was how we united the two. But I didn’t listen, not fully. I had an ice cream cone.” 

Clarke watched as Lexa spoke, as she confessed and said more words than she imagined the princess ever normally said. It was not the story of a princess though, but rather that of a stranger, offering something innate, something of themselves. 

“Are you not allowed on land?” 

“No,” she shook her head curtly. 

“You should come. See what you’re destine to defend.” 

“I’m destined to complete much more training here,” Lexa sighed. “Once the world turned its back on my father, once they condemned Atlantis, he was forced to choose. He chose us.” 

“But he still helps?” 

“He’s not a heartless man.” 

“It just seems incredibly selfless.” 

“Being a good ruler is about seeing what others don’t, doing what others won’t, and being what others can’t,” Lexa recited. 

 “You’re a good person.” 

“I try very hard.” 

Clarke smiled at the honestly and looked at her own hands as her fingers knot themselves together. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her shoulder felt warm as Lexa somehow moved close enough so that they were now touching. 

“If you ever change your mind, you could come on land. I’d show you around.” 

“You would?” 

“Fair is fair. I’m not sure we have anything this beautiful though,” Clarke confessed. 

There was a grin. She saw it as Lexa’s eyes went dreamy. Clarke found herself leaning closer, her body moving on its own. Lexa searched Clarke’s face and shook her head. 

“I don’t know. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

For a second, Clarke was swept up in green eyes and the lips that disappeared for an instant behind the peak of a tongue. It was entirely unfair that someone like Lexa, who saved her life, who cared, who gawked and awkwardly wasn’t sure how to move when her shirt slipped up a little, was also so entirely too delicious looking. 

Instead of doing it, instead of leaning forward, Clarke looked toward the city below the palace, and she smiled slightly as a blush snuck up her neck. 

“Are all Atlanteans so charming?”

“No, not too many.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Should I take you back so you can rest?” 

“Don’t trust me to make it back alone?” Clarke teased. 

“I do, but the rest of the guards might have a bit of doubt.”

Lexa stood up and held out her hand for the stranger to take. With no hesitation at all, Clarke took it and let herself be lead back into the palace. 

XXXXXXXXX

Word reached the control room quickly that the King was on his way back, the crisis from outside officially dealt with, his aid offered and accepted for another victory. No news covered if there had been losses on the side of the Justice League, and the Queen wasn’t sure what mood he would return in, but was grateful he was at all. 

Quietly, she surveyed the reports on her screen and grew more and more excited to see him, finally allowing herself the moment to reflect on the past few days and how hectic they’d been coupled with the constant nagging about his return. 

But her husband was stubborn, and would always come home. 

“I’m going to my chambers for the evening,” Meera announced as she stood, the rest of her entourage doing the same. “Monitor the fleets to the south and the shifting and quake potential off the coast of South America.” 

“Yes ma’am,” the commander nodded. 

“If my husband makes it home, please let the morning rotation know to push the meetings until the afternoon.” 

“Of course.” 

“I’ll take an update about the Spindrift as soon as possible.” 

“I”ll get in touch now, your highness.” 

“Goodnight, friends,” the queen paused at the door. “Today was a success.” 

With her notes tucked under her arm, the queen made her way out into the hallway, her guard trailing slightly behind her, as she was known to prefer. It took a lot to run a nation, and it took a lot to unify two who didn’t want it. But she knew it was for the best, and she believed in it so much, she obsessed. 

Slowly, the queen made her way down the hall, eager for things to return to normal. 

As if on time, she heard an unfamiliar sound of what she thought to be her daughter laughing, though it died away quickly. Her pace slowed considerably as she approached the corner of the hall and she waved her guard to slow, taking their time before reaching sight of the two girls. 

Looking decidedly much healthier, the girl from the land stood, her arm wrapped around Lexa’s for support though she walked much better, and looked to have more color in her cheeks than the last time Meera saw her. She was pretty, beautiful even. Shorter than her daughter, though not by much. Her hair was much lighter than she originally thought, and her eyes a bit lighter as well. She watched Lexa when she spoke, hanging on every word, her smile constant, while the princess spoke passionately before catching her earnestness and pulling back slightly. 

The queen was barely moving as they paused at Clarke’s door. Lexa moved and dropped something in her hand, quick to try to pick it up, a blush on her cheeks as she opened Clarke’s door for her. The queen smiled to herself at her daughter’s antics, at how she struggled to say goodbye, at the fact that as soon as Clarke’s door closed, the princess leaned against the wall and sighed, collapsing under her own head. 

It was only then that the queen picked up her pace, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all. 

“Are you ready to take our guest back to land?” 

“Yes, of course,” Lexa answered as she stood up straighter, losing the human in her movements. She was rigid with responsibilities. 

“Your father is returning.” 

“Good news,” she smiled, perking up slightly. 

The mother and daughter gave each other a look, a knowing look, a certain look that they deciphered and danced around. 

“We should walk and discuss a few things,” Meera decided. 

As much as Lexa wanted to protest, to go back to her room, to sleep and forget, she knew that the suggestion wasn’t optional, and with a heavy head, she nodded. 

next

[freedom-of-writing]

You’re all I want, all I need

Chapter 1 - I’m ready now

Chapter 2 - The 13th clan

Chapter 3 - Soulmates

Chapter 4 - Your enemy is our enemy

Chapter 5 - Costia

Chapter 6 - The calm before a storm

Chapter 7 - Hurts like hell

Chapter 8: Shouldn’t be a good in goodbye

“Clarke...” Abby calls her gently as she comes to stand next to her daughter.

Clarke doesn’t move, she just stands there looking down blankly. For how creepy it might sound, she has spent the entire night in the medical center by Lexa’s side, never once letting go of her limp hand. Abby’s not sure whether Clarke is holding onto Lexa to feel like she’s still here somehow, or just in the desperate hope of being able to transfer some warmth back into her cold body. Looking in her daughter’s eyes, though, she’s not even sure Clarke has any reason at all. Her eyes are cast down, but not quite looking at Lexa’s figure. Those blue orbs that had been so full of life just the day before, as she and Lexa were holding each other so lovingly, are now completely empty. They say the eyes are the mirror of the soul, and maybe it’s true. Because Clarke cannot feel a thing right now, she’s just empty.

Abby gently places a hand on her daughter’s forearm in an attempt to get some kind of reaction from her. In a way it works, because Clarke murmurs something to her. Abby almost misses it, because Clarke speaks without raising her head, and her voice is very low.

“We should take her back to the capital. Her people deserve a chance to say goodbye properly.”

“Okay.” Abby lowers her hand slowly, until it’s resting on Clarke and Lexa’s joined ones. She waits a second there without moving. When she’s positive Clarke won’t object, she takes hold of her daughter’s hand, and she pull it away from Lexa’s. To be honest, Abby was hoping such a move would earn her some kind of protest from her daughter. Anything, really. But Clarke does nothing, and it breaks Abby’s heart to see her kid so lost and broken. She caresses the top of Clarke’s hand with her thumb for a moment before talking.

“The funeral ceremony is starting in a moment. Do you think you can come say one last goodbye to your people? Hers and yours. Both the grounders and our people would appreciate you being there.” It’s a good thing Abby’s staring closely at Clarke, or she would’ve missed the almost imperceptible nod she gives her in response. With that Abby starts walking towards the door bringing her daughter out of the room along with her.

As soon as Clarke is out in the main yard, where a funeral pile has been set, Octavia and Raven rush towards her to bring her in for a hug. The broken girl doesn’t move, though. She doesn’t return the embrace, and she doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the presence of her friends. Her gaze is simply staring blankly at somewhere in front of her. Octavia and Raven look at her worriedly for a moment, and then they turn to Abby in a silent question of how Clarke is holding on. The woman’s eyes water as she shakes her head sadly, because her daughter isn’t holding on at all. She’s falling to pieces, and Abby doesn’t know what to do to help.

As Commander of Death, it is Clarke honor to light the pyre on fire. It’s one of Lexa’s general to pass her the torch. Clarke takes it without acknowledging what she’s doing. Her hand takes the torch from the man, and her legs begin to move towards the pyre, but it’s all on their accord. Her muscles are moving automatically, as if they remember what to do from that time she had to burn Finn’s body in TonDC. Suddenly, Clarke finds herself in front of an enormous pyre, above which are settled the bodies of hundreds of dead warriors. Everyone’s eyes are on her. Many of the warriors are surprised to see the supposedly mighty Wanheda looking so vulnerable and broken, but most people are now aware of her feelings for the Lexa. Somehow, Clarke manages to hold her head up high, and to mutter in the most commander-like tone she can master: “Yu gonplei ste odon.” She doesn’t remember herself lowering the torch on the pyre, but a moment later all she can see in front of her eyes are its flames.

After the ceremony, Lexa's generals, Clarke, Abby, and Kane reunite in the council room to discuss how to bring the Commander's body back to Polis. They also need to decide who of the Sky People is going to go to the capital to attend the ceremony. It takes them a good half an hour to come to an agreement. Clarke doesn't say a single word, she just stands there in a corner of the room, staring blankly at the arguing people. No one tries to ask for her opinion, both because they know she wouldn’t answer, and because they're not even sure she's hearing anything they’re saying. In the end, the grounder warriors give in, and they agree that the safest way to transport the body is with the Skaikru's rover. Kane will drive, and Abby will be in the car with him, while Clarke will be riding her horse alongside the generals. Wanheda’s presence was never in question, as per Kane he was chosen to take part in the funeral ceremony because he’s the assigned leader of the 13th clan. With a bit of insistence, Abby was able to convince the generals to let her come as well, because she didn’t want to leave Clarke alone as she's mourning Lexa's death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clarke is standing by her horse, putting the last of her things in the saddlebags, when a man approaches her from behind.

"You know, I might have a way for you to see your precious Commander again..."

Jaha. It's been forever since she last saw the man. Not that she’s missed his presence, that is. Clarke knew he wasn't completely normal when he started talking about a City of Light he planned to find, but this… this is a whole new level of craziness. Something in her eyes must have given away what she's thinking, because the man, who is now standing in front of her, immediately adds: "You think I'm crazy… but I'm not. There's this place, the City of Light, where there's no death. Everyone who died on this Earth is there. I've seen it myself."

"You're high."

"I'm not. I've never been more sober." With that Jaha takes something from his pants pocket, and hands it to Clarke. It looks like some sort of chip. Clarke eyes it for a moment before looking back at Jaha, as if to ask what the hell she is supposed to do with that thing.

"I just want to help you, Clarke. Take it. It's the key to the City of Light. You just have to swallow it. Then, you close your eyes, and just focus on the person you want to see again. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself in this virtual world that knows no death. Everyone you’ve lost here… will be there waiting for you.”

“That easy, eh? Thanks, but I’m not taking that thing.” She says harshly.

“Well… that’s a pity.” He states before putting the chip back into his pocket. “Her death doesn’t have to be the end, Clarke.”

Don’t be afraid, Clarke. Death is not the end.

“Shut up!” She’s not even sure whether she’s saying it to Jaha, or to the voice inside her head repeating Lexa’s words.

“You’re just afraid, Clarke.”

Don’t be afraid, Clarke.

“I said shut up!” She cries out shaking her head in order to get rid of the small voice that’s haunting her mind. The man realizes he must’ve touched a sore spot, but he doesn’t let Clarke’s words stop him from placing the chip in Clarke’s hand.

“What are you doing?! I don’t want your stupid key to this damn City of Light!”

“Yes, you do.” With that, Jaha closes Clarke’s hand around the chip, and he turns to go back inside the walls of Arkadia.

Clarke stares at him for a while before turning back to her horse, and raising her hand over her head to throw the chip into the woods. She’s about to let it go, when she remembers another conversation she and Lexa had right before the battle.

What I can promise is that I'm going to do anything in my power to come back to you, ai hodness.

I’ll do anything in my power to come back to you too.

Maybe she should keep the chip with her. If Jaha is right, it might be her only way to get back to Lexa as she promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once in Polis, Lexa’s body is cleaned by a few handmaids, and redressed in clean clothes. A small altar is built in the throne room, so that the Nightbloods and the clan leaders can say their own personal goodbyes to the late Commander before the public ceremony begins.

The second Clarke enters the room, the youngest Natblida rush towards her to embrace her tightly in a group hug. Abby and Kane, who are standing by the doors, are shocked by how much affection these children are showing for Clarke. But what surprises them the most is that, in this moment, Clarke’s eyes don’t look as blank and lost as before. They are suddenly filled emotion, with love, and Abby wants to cry because she was really beginning to think she’d never see life in those beautiful blue eyes again. It’s clear to her and Marcus that a lot of things have changed when Clarke was here in Polis, before the battle. Clearly in that week, she and the Nightbloods had formed a strong bond.

When the first group of children lets her go, another group of older-looking kids moves to hug her. They take their time, each one patiently waiting for their turn to embrace the Sky girl. The last one to move is a boy whom Clarke addresses as Aden. Something in the way the two of them hold each other lets Abby and Kane image he must be one Clarke is closest to. They can barely see his face from they’re standing by the doors, but it’s enough for them to notice he’s trying hard to hold back his tears. Once more, Kane and Abby are surprised by the change of attitude displayed by Clarke. She does not look broken anymore, but rather it looks like she’s trying to act as strong as possible for these kids standing in front of her. It’s such a mother-like action to put her pain aside momentarily, in order to infuse strength into these children and teens she obviously loves so much.

Once all the Nightbloods, including Aden, are done greeting Clarke, Titus makes his presence noticed. He’s kept to the side all the time, but now he moves from his spot to go speak to Clarke.

“I believe the Natblida have something for you, Wanheda.”

At those words, Clarke turns to look at the kids questioningly. No one seems to want to say a thing, until it’s Aden to clear his throat asking for attention. When Clarke looks at him, Aden holds out a knife, offering it to her. At first, she doesn’t understand what’s going on, but then it clicks.

“Lexa’s knife.” She whispers in surprise. “Doesn’t it belong to the one of you who’ll be the next Commander?”

“It does.” Aden smiles softly at her before adding: “We’ve talked about it, and… we’ve all agreed it should be yours.” Clarke knows that by “all” they do not mean Titus as well, and the look of disapproval on the man’s face is proving her right.

While Clarke is looking at Titus, Aden comes to stand right in front of her. Still holding out the knife, he continues. “So whenever you use it it’ll be like Lexa is protecting you.” Murmurs of agreement come from the other Natblida when he takes Clarke’s hand to pass her the knife.

Clarke is at a loss of words. All she can do is stand there looking at the knife Aden has just placed in her hand. When her gaze comes up again to look at the kids, her eyes are wet with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. Her voice shakes with emotion when she finally manages to say something. “Mochof.” Thank you.

The emotional moment, though, is soon interrupted by a guard, who enters the room to announce it’s time for the ceremony. With him are other three guards, carrying a wooden stretcher. As gently as it can be expected by four warriors, they move Lexa’s body onto the stretcher, and then they lift it up to place it on their shoulders. They exit the room first, with everyone else in tow, and they walk to the main square where a pyre is ready. The crowd of grounders is standing in a circle around it, but leaving enough space for all of the clan leaders to stand on the step that was built all around the pyre. Roan is there too, having been nominated King of Azgeda in the wake of his mother’s death. Each clan leader is holding a torch. Since Lexa was the Commander of the 13th clans, they should all have the honor to light the funeral pyre on fire. Clarke and Titus receive their torches as well. Since they are the Commander of Death and the Flamekeeper, they are to be considered at the same level as the clan leaders.

When Lexa’s body is adjusted above the pyre, and everyone is in place, Titus raises his hand asking for attention. He waits for the people around them to fall silent, and then he speaks.

“People of Polis, members of the Coalition, it is with a sad heart that we stand here today to say goodbye to our beloved Commander. I’m sure you all can agree when I say Lexa was special. She was a visionary, and no Commander before had ever been as wise as her. She believed in a world where we could live in peace, united as one. It is now our duty to keep this union alive, in honor of her hard work.” He pauses for a moment as the crowd is cheering. When everyone grows quiet again, he concludes. “Yu gonplei ste odon, Leksa kom Trikru. Gonplei kom Heda kigon feva.”

Your fight is over, Lexa of the Tree People. The Commander's fight goes on.

“Yu gonplei ste odon, Heda.” The crowd exclaims in chorus.

“Maybe Wanheda wishes to say something as well…” Titus offers looking at the woman standing next to him. Clarke nods gratefully before turning to glance at Kane, standing in the circle with the other clan leaders. He looks back at her questioningly, but when she starts talking, he understands.

“I’d like to say something on behalf of people. It’s our way of bidding farewell to the ones we have passed away.” She waits for Kane to catch up, so they can say the next words together. Joined by Abby, who’s standing in the crowd behind them.

“In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey on the ground. May we meet again.”

And with that, they all lower their torches to light the pyre on fire, and they step away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s sunset when the last of the flames has died down. A pile of ashes is all that’s left of Lexa’s body and of the wood that formed the pyre. Everyone is gone back to their homes, except for Aden and Clarke. They are the only ones left in the square. They stand there, silently staring at the fuming ashes, for what feels like an eternity. When at last, Aden makes a move to turn and leave, the sound of Clarke’s voice stops him in his tracks.

"Why is there a good in goodbye…?” She asks looking up at the boy for a second. She knows Aden doesn’t understand what she’s trying to say, so she continues. “I mean, there's absolutely nothing good about it. It's like… whenever we say goodbye, it just feels like something bad that's going to get even worse. Like a storm that’s never ending, or like that last moment of composure before the inevitable break. It's not gracious, and it's definitely not meant to give you hope that something good might come out of that moment. A goodbye is just the proof that you're already drowning. And the worst part is that you haven’t even hit the bottom of that ocean floor yet."

When she’s done, Clarke moves her gaze back on Aden, to see if he understands what means now. He does. The boy gives her a small nod of agreement. Then he turns his head to look down at Lexa’s ashes.

“You’re right. There shouldn't be a good in goodbye." And with that, he finally turns to walk towards the tower, leaving Clarke alone.

 Author’s note: I know, i know. That last speech from Clarke makes little to no sense, but here’s the song it was inspired from. Hopefully reading/listening to it will help you understand the meaning. 

Jason Walker – Shouldn’t Be a Good in Goodbye

After the silence, After the last words. Caught in the silence. Caught in between.

After the madness. After the slow shock. Before the wave hits, The flood comes rushing in.

This is the bad before the worse. This is the storm before the storm. I haven't even hit the bottom of this ocean floor. This is the bend before the break. This is the mercy not the grace. This is the proof, and not the faith I try to find. There shouldn't be a good in goodbye.

If I never loved you, If I never felt your kiss. If I never had you. I know that I... I still would have mourned you. I would have missed your smile. If it wasn't so worth it, This wouldn't be... Oh, this wouldn't be

The bad before the worse. And the storm before the storm. I haven't even hit the bottom of this ocean floor. This is the bend before the break. This is the mercy not the grace. This is the proof and not the faith I try to find. There shouldn't be a good in goodbye.

I know this is gonna get better, oh. I know this is gonna get better, oh. I know...

This is the bitter not the sweet. This is the take, and not the keep. And I haven't even reached the bottom of this ocean floor. This is the bend before the break. This is the mercy not the grace. This is the proof and not the faith I try to find. There shouldn't be a good in goodbye.

Yeah. There shouldn't be good in goodbye. There shouldn't be a good in goodbye. 

Chapter 9 - The Conclave

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 17: Clarke (V)

Numb.

It’s the only word that comes to mind for the out of body sensation that Clarke is currently experiencing. 

Everything is numb.

No anger.

Or sadness.

Or even fear of what’s to come.

It’s as if her inner catalog of tried and true emotions are suddenly nowhere to be found, leaving Clarke with the inability to feel anything… 

Anything at all.

All there is is the never-ending abundance of numbness.

“Time to go, Blondie,” Anya announces from somewhere in the near distance. But Clarke doesn’t move. She remains planted on the top step of Murphy’s front porch, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting upon her knees, while her eyes stare out into the darkness before her. 

A distinct set of footsteps cut through the ongoing background party noise, growing closer and closer, until stopping right beside Clarke. A moment or two of silence passes and then she notices the all too familiar sound of Anya letting out one of her “What mess did my sister create now” signatures sighs. 

Clarke knows that sound.

It’s the one that has become synonymous with Anya throughout the years, as time and time again the older Woods sister has managed to step in at just the right moment and fix whatever mess that Lexa has caused. The sigh comes first. Then the silence while Anya works her magic to rectify the situation at hand. 

Words come later. Always firm and direct, but never with a tone of anger. And never too many neither. It’s always just the right amount to get her point across before moving on.

Clarke feels the sudden weighted warmth of Anya’s leather jacket around her shoulders and can’t help but shrink into it, desperate for any sort of comfort at the moment. She blinks away the hint of tears forming within the corners of her eyes as Anya ever-so-gently helps her up onto her feet and leads her down the front steps. 

The two walk side by side in silence down the street and back towards Lexa’s car, with only the occasional street light to guide their way. Clarke doesn’t need to ask where they are going. She already knows. Anya is taking her home.

It’s always the first step when it comes to cleaning up the mess. 

Everyone is taken home-- and to their own home only-- and is required to get a good night’s sleep. Then, and only then, can they reconvene with one another. Usually over bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and coffee at Blue’s. 

That’s the ritual. 

Always.

Clarke slides herself into the passenger’s seat and buckles her seat belt as Anya gets situated. “What about Rae and Octavia?”

“Took off. Saw the two of them leave together about 20 minutes ago. Guessing they got an Uber or something.”

Clarke nods. “Lexa left too.”

“I know. My sister is an idiot,” Anya responds, never once taking her eyes off of the windshield. “A massive fucking idiot.”

“No, it’s my fault, I was the one--”

“Don’t. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“But, I--”

“No. This is not your fault.” Anya turns and briefly locks eyes with Clarke. “And it doesn’t matter what you think you did or didn’t do. This one’s all on my sister.”

Clarke wants to believe Anya’s words, but the overwhelming guilt residing in the depth of her stomach is just too all-consuming. She shakes her head as a fresh set of tears reemerge in the corners of her eyes. 

Anya steals another quick look at Clarke and then exhales. “Look. I don’t know what went down between you and my sister tonight, but my guess is that Lexa pulled her normal shut down and run away bullshit.”

Clarke once again swallows back down her tears and then gives the tiniest of nods in confirmation.

“So fucking predictable,” Anya mutters under her breath. “Now she’s gonna run her ass all the way to England.”

England.

The word slams into Clarke like an unexpected slap to the face. She straightens herself up a bit within the passenger’s seat as her brow furrows with confusion. 

Lexa is going to England?

No.

That can’t be right.

It’s the alcohol playing tricks on her.

She’s drunk and misheard Anya. That’s all.

Lexa’s not leaving. Not in the middle of their senior year. Why would she? 

They are supposed to be going to UCLA together. 

Lexa would’ve said something to her if their plans had changed… Wouldn’t she?

Stop.

It’s the alcohol.

Lexa’s going nowhere. 

They’re in love.

And people in love don’t up and go halfway around the world without saying something.

Those things just don’t happen.

Clarke closes her eyes and shakes her head, trying to clear away her snowballing thoughts from her mind. She grabs the edges of Anya’s leather jacket and pulls it closer to her body as a strange set of chills washes over her. 

Something still doesn’t quite feel right… 

“Cold?” Anya asks.

“Yeah. A little bit.”

Anya reaches over, turns on the heat, and then repositions the vents to blow towards Clarke. “Here. It should take a minute or two, but then it’ll warm-up.”

“Thanks.”

Anya nods. “Used to it. Lexa is always freezing too. She would drive with the heat on in July if she could… She should’ve been born on some tropical island. Like Hawaii or Fiji.”

The smallest hint of a smile appears on Clarke’s face. She more than knows what Anya is talking about. It’s one of Lexa’s most endearing quirks. The insatiable craving for warmth. 

And it goes beyond just her normal wardrobe staples of oversized hoodies and thick fuzzy socks. No. Lexa constantly needs continuous warmth, both inside and out, in order to thrive. Otherwise…

“It’s gonna be alright,” Anya says, cutting through the silence once again. “I’ll drop you home and then go hunt Lexa’s ass down and knock some sense into her. Everyone just needs to sober up and get some sleep. Tomorrow things will return to normal. You’ll see. You won’t even get a foot in the door before Lexa starts to apologize and beg you to forgive her.” 

“Yeah,” Clarke replies with an underlying tone of uncertainty to her voice. She so desperately wants to believe that Anya’s right. That by tomorrow morning everything within the world will return to back to normal and the events of tonight will slowly fade away like a forgotten nightmare. And yet…

Something still isn’t right.

Clarke can feel it circling around her like an invisible entity that only she can sense, just waiting for the opportune moment to rear its ugly head and bring further havoc into her life. 

But what is it?

And what does it have to do with Lexa?

__________

“Hey Blondie,” Anya says with a drugged-up husk to her voice. “Back again?” 

But Clarke doesn’t respond right away. She instead quietly slips into the hospital room and shuts the door behind her, letting the definitive click of the lock speak for her.

Anya quirks her brow as she tries to decipher the reason behind the peculiar action. “You know you don’t have to lock that thing. It’s not like I can up and go anywhere.”

“It’s not for you. It’s to make sure we aren’t interrupted by any random pop-ins,” Clarke replies. She pulls up a nearby chair to Anys’s bedside and takes a seat. “We need to talk.”

“Okay…” 

Clarke goes to open her mouth but suddenly finds that the words that she’s been rehearsing in the confines of her own head ever since leaving Raven’s hospital room are now nowhere to be found. As if they’ve evaporated into mere nothingness, leaving Clarke with not an inkling of where to even start.

It’s Anya.

The same Anya that would cover for Clarke all those times back in high school when she would fall asleep in Lexa’s bed and forget to get up before Indra awoke. The one that helped her bail Raven and Bellamy out of jail, no questions asked, after they were caught rebuilding a ‘76 mustang in the principal’s office. And the one that was ultimately left to clean up Lexa’s mess when she ran off to Cambridge.

“Clarke… What is it?”

Clarke blinks and then inhales deeply. She can feel Anya’s eyes upon her. Observant as ever. “I went to see Raven.”

“Yeah? How’s she doing? Is she okay? I asked one of the nurses but they wouldn’t say jackshit to me. Something about patient-doctor confidentiality or some other bullshit like that.”

“She’s awake.”

“And…” Anya impatiently follows up, too eager to wait any longer. 

Clarke bites her lip a little too hard, almost breaking the skin. 

Where the hell did her words go?  

“Clarke?”

“You need to go see her.”

“I would if I could. You know that. But they won’t even let me get out of bed by myself to go take a piss,” Anya responds and Clarke senses a hint of hostile growing within the depths of her voice. “Tell me what’s going on. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” 

“I--” 

“Don’t do it, Clarke. We had a deal. No bullshitting each other. Not when it comes to the hard stuff. Remember? That was the deal you and I made after Lexa left,”

“I know,” Clarke responds. 

“Okay. Then answer my question… What’s wrong with Raven?”

Clarke exhales and runs her hands through her short, messy locks as she mentally shifts herself into doctor mode. “During the crash, Raven suffered what is called a partial dislocation of the L3 vertebra. This means her spine shifted from the impact, causing a severe amount of swelling and trauma to the surrounding nerves. Right now, it’s too soon to say if there’s any permanent damage, but…”

Clarke trails off as her words fail her once again. She’s done this a thousand times before. To face a patient’s loved ones and have to explain the extent of damages. It’s the first major test that any pre-med intern goes through. And up until this point, Clarke has always passed with flying colors. So much so, that she has gained the unwanted reputation of being a “Hoodoo”. 

A deliverer of bad news. 

But now… 

Now it’s different. 

Now the person she is talking about isn’t some generic-named stranger, but someone that is part of her life.

Now the person is Raven.

“But?” Anya asks unable to hide the quiver in her voice.

“But for right now Raven is experiencing roughly 75% paralysis of both of her legs.”

The words explode like a shrapnel-filled grenade, emotionally shredding Anya on impact. Clarke watches as Anya’s unreadable mask shatters, giving way to two defined trails of tears. “She’s paralyzed?” 

Clarke nods. “Yes.”

“Does she know?” 

“Not sure. She didn’t let on to it when I was with her, but she’s lucid enough to at least know something isn’t right. And given that it’s Raven, she’s already put two and two together by now.” 

The tears continue to flow freely down Anya’s cheeks as she takes a moment to process the gravity of Clarke’s words.

“I talked with Jackson and they’re planning on doing another set of scans in a few hours from now. The hope is that by then the swelling will have subsided enough to get a better picture of what’s causing the paralysis. It might even just be due to the initial trauma of the impact itself. In fact, once it goes down, there’s a strong likelihood that Raven might just naturally regain full functionality and feeling on her own. I’ve seen it happen before. At least a half dozen times. There’s was this motorcycle accident back in August where--” 

“Clarke.” 

Clarke stops rambling and catches hold Anya’s eyes. The tears have now slowed down but still, the look of pure uncertainty remains written across her face and Clarke is instantly transported back to that fateful night. It’s the only other time when she’s seen Anya look this way. Terrified of the unforeseen disaster that is lurking just off in the horizon. 

The unpredictable.

“It’s going to be alright.” The words tumble out of Clarke’s mouth before she can process what she is actually saying. She cringes, bracing for the inevitable response, but instead is greeted by a soft laugh. 

“Nice try, but you and I both know that phrase is like the kiss of death.”

“I know,” Clarke sighs. “But maybe this time things will be.”

“Maybe…” Anya replies with a less than believable tone. She lets out a long exhale of air and then-- 

“I need to see her.”

Clarke nods in agreement. “Yes, you really do.”

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

Here are some canon angst Anya and lexa hcs I’m posting before the fluff storm that is clextober. @lykoscor and @houpkomslakgedakru asked to be tagged. All of this eventually is gonna fit into my wells lived au. Thanks to @lexascandlestores for reading this mess first.

I don’t know how to tell you about Lexa and Anya. There is so much you need to know that if I started at the first time they met it would almost be a lie of omission.

Here is where we can start. Anya is a teenager, barely a warrior, her palms are calloused but she can still count the amount of people she’s killed on one hand. She’s in a battle, a terrible battle, reapers raid a village of innocents because their chief refused to give up victims to the mountain. That same chief had done it on purpose, hoping to draw the reapers out. Anya, young as she was, assumed that to be part of the plan. That they were killing reapers because reapers needed to be killed. All thoughts of loyalty to her chief vanish the moment she watches him kneel to one of the cannibals, crying for his brother to return to him again, the reaper cuts his head off. The warriors are running around like chickens without proper orders and its Anya that pulls it together, grabs the younger seconds she still knows, their firsts follow in line, and within hours each and every reaper is dead.

Anya is supposed to be promoted, anyone else would’ve been, but Anya isn’t trikru born, only half, and they bestow upon her the great honor of training up a nightblood child. Babysitting. And because she embarrassed so many seasoned warriors she was given the runt of the litter too. A tiny little bruised thing afraid of her own shadow. She finds Lexa at the bottom of a pit her fellow nightbloods dug for her, tricked and trapped, and Anya informs her that Lexa can find her own way out.

Anya trains her under the assumption that Lexa will die. She doesn’t want to get attached, already watched a fool chieftain burn a village and get himself killed for the sake of family and she refuses that fate for herself.

But Lexa loves her, unabashedly, unassumingly. No matter how much Anya pushes, no matter how much she insults, degrades, Lexa follows doggedly at her side, determined at every step, failing nonetheless. It isn’t until Anya forces them on a hunting trip right before a storm that Lexa breaks, shivering in the cold, sobbing at the sounds and the lights. It should make Anya feel better, solid evidence against hope, the girl would never survive if she was afraid of a lightning storm. But Anya finds herself comforting Lexa, finds herself realizing that somewhere along the way she loved her too. Anya decides that Lexa will survive, she’ll give Lexa no choice.

After that she trains Lexa harder, forces her harder, sometimes she will just have her run, for hours, as she threw things at her. Lexa grows hard and strong and skilled, but Anya has them train in private so to all the other nightbloods she isn’t a threat. Anya begins to plot against the strongest of them - Luna - who’s fury drives her to kill with a knife like precision, and her brother who is half her size but twice as fast, there’s others, they’re all intense, but Anya begins working Lexa on how to defeat each and every one of them.

But the commander dies, finally, sheidheda was a fucking nightmare, and it’s time for the conclave. Anya can’t lose Lexa though, she can’t, and Lexa’s not ready, she’s not. So Anya grabs her arrows, her sword, her spear, and she sneaks in, intent on making sure Lexa wins. And it’s not a purely selfish move because the reality is: without Anya’s help Luna will win. Luna will win and she’s a fucking psycho, she loves the taste of blood, she’s an excellent fighter but she delights in it, she’s too fucking angry all the time, she’s furious, and that might be why she’s Titus’ favorite but she’s not gonna be a good commander, not when the last one was of the same breed. Lexa will be a good commander, and sure, so would any of the other kids who weren’t Luna, even Luna’s little brother, but if Anya’s gonna kill Luna she might as well kill everyone else too.

Anya waits and hides at first, only killing one who happened to cross her path, and one who was trying to fire an arrow at Lexa. Luna’s the favored to win so Anya can’t come right out and kill her, has to be careful about it. Luna kills her brother first, Anya watches her do it. For a second, the millisecond after Luna kills her brother, Anya almost changes her mind, she almost turns back. Because, okay, the look in Luna’s eyes after slicing open her own flesh in blood, the defeated sadness of a warrior twice her age, Anya almost thinks Luna would make a good commander after all. That some part of her was human after all. But then Luna’s too human, and she runs in the other direction, runs and runs and runs. And Anya knows what she’s doing is right.

Lexa only kills two of the actual novitiates, Anya kills another two more before the conclave ends. Lexa finds out immediately after, it’s not hard when Anya never bothers to hide anything from her, and Lexa sees Anya’s clothes covered in black blood. But by that time it’s too late, and Lexa’s already ascended, so Lexa doesn’t formally banish her, can’t officially, but Titus is equally furious and Lexa has to do something, wants to do something because how dare Anya get involved, she had it handled, she could do it, it was her responsibility to do it, and now they’d never know if Lexa was meant to be commander. And Anya feels sorry about that, because one thing about being the runt of the litter is you never quite grow out of your inferiority complex, no matter how much you achieve, and now Lexa will never believe she was meant to be commander, will be insecure and unsure of her every decision. (What Anya doesn’t know is with the Flame Lexa has more people to consult, doesn’t feel like the burden is always on her, and will grow more sure as time goes on, but still, for those first several months she’s fucked up over it.) So Lexa sends Anya away. She sends her to far away campaigns on the ice nation border, sends her to patrol forests and get rid of bandits, sends her to help poor villages hunt and force rich villages to give up their meals. It seems like she’s honoring her first like every good second should by giving her this huge army and place as a general but she sends her on pointless mission after pointless mission and Anya misses her second, her friend, her mentee, her kid sister. She misses her. Sometimes she consoles herself with her best tracker, Echo. Echo is beautiful and loud and smart and quick and she keeps up with Anya and the two of them sometimes go out in the mornings alone together, hunting, laughing. Echo uses all of her two inch height advantages against her to press her against a tree and kiss her and Anya realizes she was a moron for not knowing she was in love with her. It’s right around that time that Anya gets a letter from Lexa requesting her presence in Polis for the annual ascension day, the letter seems like nothing but a formality, seconds respecting their firsts and so on, but to Anya it’s a revelation. Lexa’s finally reaching out, Lexa’s finally ready to forgive her.

She and Echo race to Polis hand in hand, Anya telling her stories all along the way of baby Lexa learning how to wield a knife and nearly cutting off her hand, or how when they first met Lexa was afraid of thunderstorms. When they get there Anya discovers it wasn’t Lexa who wrote the letter but a handmaid named Costia, a woman who tells her that Lexa misses her, needs her, but won’t admit it, and Costia knows because Costia loves Lexa too. Anya is happy Lexa’s found love and thinks maybe it changed things between the two of them. Lexa greets her formally though Anya can sense her agitation at Costia, senses a fight brewing between the two of them that Costia doesn’t care enough to apologize or avoid it. Lexa and Anya have a stilted dinner, Costia offering to show Echo around the dinner. Lexa attempts to end it early but Anya won’t let her and drags Lexa out to train. They spar and Lexa demands to know why Anya got involved in what was supposed to be a sacred ritual - the most sacred ritual. And didn’t Anya believe in her? Anya tried to explain fear, not just fear of losing someone but the more intrinsic fear we all feel, petrification. If she had watched Lexa fight from high atop Polis tower she would’ve been petrified, frozen in place and terrified, not just for Lexa but for the future. She couldn’t do it, it was her own weakness that brought her to the conclave not Lexa’s, and she knew that Lexa would win, once Luna left Lexa was fully capable of taking on everyone else. But she didn’t want Lexa to get hurt, she couldn’t stand the thought of Lexa getting hurt, because she loved her. It’s not a revelation to Anya but it is to Lexa and Anya realizes, with no small amount of regret, it’s the first time she’s said it to Lexa. Lexa’s staring at her, like maybe she’s never heard those words said to her without the words “no one will ever” prefacing them. They don’t hug, they don’t grab arms, but Anya forces herself to put a hand on Lexa’s shoulder and repeat it, and Lexa stares at her for a long time, her mouth hanging open, until it begins to get dark and they walk back into the tower. But when they get back to the tower Costia and Echo are gone.

When neither return in the morning Anya and Lexa begin to panic. For three months they attempt to track them down, the search brings them closer together as they go to the very edge of border villages, asking anyone anything and everything. They sleep in the same room, sometimes Lexa still needs to be comforted through a thunderstorm and Anya feels strength return to her body, a sureness in her step, a purpose she hadn’t felt since flinging things at Lexa across sandy beaches.

It fades as the two of them learn Echo’s story through whispers and rumors passed down and passed around. The queen’s right hand, her favorite spy. Too many things line up, too many things make sense, how eager Echo was to go with her, how easily Echo fell into bed with her, how they were lacking supplies in the beginning, almost as if they had more people than expected.

Lexa doesn’t forgive Anya. She never outrightly says it but they know it’s true. Lexa goes back to Polis to play politics, Anya keeps searching to play general, a month later she’s informed she has a new campaign and on her journey to the new location a bar keep tells her they found Costia’s head in a box on Lexa’s pillow.

Sometimes Anya thinks about how bored Echo must have been at first, how frustrated she must have been when she discovered the first and her second had a falling out. But Anya knows now she’s not a being who can survive without love, she hopes Lexa will learn that too, but instead of being reckless and falling for another spy, or a girl so useless she might as well have been made of kindling like Lexa did, Anya takes another second. Tris is smart, she’s strong, she’s from Anya’s old village and there’s something in her eyes, a spark, she’s quick on her feet and so talented. Anya pours all her love into her, since Lexa won’t even respond to her reports anymore, and she almost feels whole. One day Lexa assigns Anya to a disturbance near TonDC, an enemy force of no more than a hundred. She knows Lexa’s planning a war against the mountain and this is the closest she’ll ever get. So she goes.

As she stays there she feels the full force of Lexa’s revenge. The chieftain of the village is Indra, a more senior warrior with a wayward son and daughter. The daughter Anya only hears about through mutterings of the children, the son Indra immediately introduces to her. She asks that Anya give him a job and like when she was a child, forced into Lexa’s waiting claws, she knows this is nothing more than babysitting. Indra is not Lincoln’s mother, but she might as well be. Lincoln and Indra hold as much antagonism as they do love for one another. Anya learns its because a great loss in their families brought them together, Anya learns the loss was named Costia. Lexa gets her revenge so slowly and carefully but so cleverly Anya is proud of her. Just as Anya made her feel ashamed of winning the conclave, forced to live with that shame, so now does Anya live with the shame of her own foolishness. Perhaps it is that distraction of Indra, or the desolation she feels when she looks upon Lincoln, that has her guard down, walking towards a blonde girl on a bridge. It is the last stupid decision she will make, and the one that will kill the last person who returns her love.

For the record, Echo admired Anya but she didn’t love her. In the end, Echo was a professional and she knew how to hold herself back and hold herself in. She respected Anya, thought her a good warrior and general, a serious threat, but didn’t love her. She did for a moment, while she was dragging Costia away, regret her actions, obviously it was too late to go back, Costia had seen her face, had been begging and pleading for mercy, but she could’ve had a home in Anya, could’ve loved her someday. She didn’t very much want to hurt her. If she ever saw her again, Echo had decided, she would apologize. Echo sees her again in the mountain, Nia sent her on a mission to watch the sky people and she got captured, Echo doesn’t apologize, Anya doesn’t notice her. Echo lives with her regret forever.

Also for the record, Nia had put Echo in Anya’s army because Titus had helped her, he helped her every step of the way, Echo reported to Titus all of Anya’s happenings who was able to report it to the azgeda ambassador who reported to Nia. It wasn’t Anya’s fault for bringing Echo, it was Titus’. Titus killed Costia, and he knew that, but lied to Lexa to keep his power and to devalue Anya more.

Lexa eventually does learn this when Titus makes his attempt on Clarke’s life and the bullet hits the wall beside Lexa. She doesn’t for awhile but once he’s imprisoned and Clarke is gone and even the nightbloods speak in hushed tones around her the dots begin to add up. When she confronts him about it he admits nothing, Lexa writes to Roan, he admits everything. Titus, when Roan was in the courts, was a frequently quoted figure, his letters were good sources. Titus admits to aiding in Costia’s capture and murder, he claims that Lexa was letting her love for her cloud her judgement, when Lexa questions why he ordered Echo to bed Anya Titus explains that he wanted Lexa to see the full effects of love. What Lexa hears is he wanted to be the only one he trusted. He claims to have colluded with the azgeda just in case she tried to go to war with them over Costia. He wanted a safety plan in place so the coalition didn’t go to shit just because Anya intervened. Lexa realizes that Anya was always the one to believe in her, and Costia, and Clarke, and never Titus.

When she had first learned of Anya’s death she had thought she was another example of love failing the warrior, the leader, the kyongedon. A disappointment for such a worthy general, a stab of pain and regret, wishing they had left things on a better note, at one point wishing the first she’d been trained by had survived, who she had only caught a glimpse of again while they searched for Echo and Costia.

Now, as she stared at the braid she kept in a locked chest in her closet, next to Costia’s, she could only think of loyalty, the consequences of secrets and assumptions, and of the words she never said to Anya but had felt since that first meeting. When Anya hadn’t treated her like a pitiful burden, had challenged her and believed in her, and had taught her that she was capable of more than she knew. Lexa had made it out of the pit Anya found her in eventually. Anya knew she would. Anya always knew she would.

[adistantstarblog]

“Look at us,” Clarke choked out, “falling for each other.”

Lexa knew it was meant to be a joke, but she felt herself blush anyway, “its something, isn’t it??” she asked back. Clarke nodded. They hadn’t even bothered to get up from the snow. After a second or two her laughing changed to coughing and then to a soft silence that left Clarke staring at her, which left Lexa holding her breath and trying not to be nervous, after all...she’d just met Clarke. There was no reason to be nervous like this. After this they would each go their separate ways and that would be the end of it.

“So you come here a lot?” Clarke dropped her gaze first.

“I do,” Lexa nodded and looked away through the park, “I like it here.”

“I just moved here,” Clarke said next, she shook her wet hair back and looked over the park too, “it's pretty far away from home.” she shrugged, and then studied her wet hands. With a soft sniff that might have been from the cold she glanced up to where Lexa’s chocolate sat a few feet away abandoned in the snow, “sorry about your drink.”

“No, its okay,” Lexa said quickly, because suddenly Clarke looked so sad, like she had paused for a moment and ...something… had slipped in, “where is home?” She tried for what she hoped was a happy topic. She wanted to see Clarke smile again.

It worked. Clarke smiled and shook back her hair, “Arkadia,” she shrugged, “you probably don’t know where it is.”

“On the other side of Tondc?” Lexa asked.

“You heard of it?” Clarke seemed surprised.

“I’ve heard of it,” Lexa admitted, “it takes days to get there by car.”

“That’s the one,” Clarke smirked a little bit. She seemed very proud of her hometown. Clarke wet her lips, “I guess there’s lots of reasons I left. I wanted to help people.”

“Me too,” Lexa answered. They had common ground, besides the cold snow they were seated in. It was all the way through her clothes now.

“But I left all my friends,” Clarke went on, she got up though, and went back to the snowball. On cue, Lexa got up too. She helped Clarke pick the giant snowball up and helped her carry it over to the body and put it on top. Clarke went to a bag Lexa hadn’t seen before near the base of a tree and took out two pieces of coal and the traditional carrot. Using the carrot for the nose, she pushed the coal into place for the eyes.

Lexa grabbed branches from small trees and put them into the snowman as arms. When they were done, she stood back with Clarke and admired their work. Because her heart was thumping out of control just from being near Clarke, she barely remembered what they had been talking about when Clarke nodded at the snowman and added, “so I guess..I thought I’d make one.” Clarke looked at her quickly. Lexa saw it out of the corner of her eye.

-=-

---Hi Everybody! 😊 It’s Monday again, and here is a little bit of what is happening today on Bonus Day Monday over on My Patreon. It was fun to write, so I thought I’d share a little bit of it with you.  This fic is part of Bonus Day Monday over on my Patreon where there are just 3 easy tiers:

$3 a month gives you early access to my works, and not just by a week or two, but by at least 2 months. This is the lowest tier and it includes voting on polls.  

$5 gives you the above, and also you get to submit prompts to vote on.

And at $10, you get all of the above plus an extra day of content, whatever form that content might take, original work or Clexa Fanfic. (This is the Bonus Day Monday tier)

I should also note the content on my Patreon is Clexa with some original work mixed in. Have a great day everyone. Thanks for reading.  Hope to see you there.

-DistantStar

[butmakeitgayblog]

Demon!AU Snippet

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After much deliberation and help from my merry band of short bottoms, here's the decidedly most PG rated snippet I could find, enjoy? Hopefully?

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"Oop, hot delivery girl, incoming," Raven whispered, a devious smile stretching over her face. 

"Wha-"

Clarke jumped slightly at the quiet thud beside her, eyes swinging around to take in the brilliant pink box now sitting squarely in the middle of her desk. Before she could react, a grey skirt covered hip slid just over the edge of her desk, nudging aside her nameplate and outgoing stack of mail to create an impromptu seat. 

"Morning, gorgeous."

She barely bit back a groan at the voice. 

Raven grinned, leaning forward on her elbows and looking up at the woman now perched on Clarke's desk. "Well, good morning to you too, Lexa."

Perfect. 

Clarke tried her hardest to stay focused on her annoyance at Lexa having such a brazen disregard for things such as personal spaces and belongings and the entirety of office etiquette, pushing down the thoughts of how well that satin burgundy shirt hugged every last one of her curves.

Cheeks pinking in failure, she compromised and settled on averting her eyes to the safety of her computer. 

"Oh, morning. Did you do something with your hair, Reyes?" Lexa questioned, reaching out right across Clarke's screen to gently tug on one of Raven's flowing locks. "Sexy. Looks good."

Sighing in resignation at the obviousness of Lexa's antics, Clarke stopped typing and flopped back silently in her chair, feeling that typical flare of anger. Because who did that? Who does this? Who just sits themselves down on top of a veritable stranger's desk and starts flirting with their coworker? Who practically shoves their ass in someone's face just to sweet talk and charm someone who is distinctly not the work area's owner?

"I did," Raven said, breaking through her silent tirade with pleased smile tinting her features. "Got it trimmed over the weekend and got an oil treatment. Thank you for noticing."

Feeling a pinch to her arm Clarke grunted a soft, "Ow," sucking in a breath as she rubbed the injured area and glared at her friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I told you I had a rough morning."

"Oh, no. What happened? Bad dreams?" Lexa frowned, tucking a wisp of blonde behind Clarke's ear before pulling back. "Or good dreams? 

Blue eyes flew up to the face obviously fighting a smile, an unreadable glint coloring the hooded gaze looking back.

Sucking in a breath at the insanely inappropriateness of that, at feeling somehow Lexa was currently seeing every flash of their torrid dreamtime coupling that was currently flying through her mind at that very moment. Clarke coughed out a quiet choking sound before clearing her throat with a shake of her head. "No," she stated, adjusting in her chair at the tick of a brunette brow and adding firmly, "and no... I'm fine."

Turning back to see her coworker smirking and glancing between them, Clarke narrowed her eyes and pointedly continued. "And I would've noticed eventually, Raven. It's been like five minutes since you sat down."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lexa noticed at least," Raven flicked her wrist in dismal. "Who needs you?"

"Rave-"

"Ignore her, Clarke," she heard as slim fingers slowly turned her head forward and up, finding a heated grin zeroed in on her. "I need you."

The altogether too intimate touch and tone was gone before she could even begin to process it as Lexa casually moved to open the box beside her, flipping the top and continuing as though nothing had happened. 

"Anyway, I had a craving this morning and couldn't stop myself, but I definitely went a little overboard. Figured I'd share." 

Breathable oxygen still very much an issue after the gentle handling and warm words, Clarke dazedly looked down to see a small array of sweets. 

"Oh my God," Raven moaned, pitching forward over the span of their desks to look through the variety of cupcakes with eagle-eyed precision. "Have I ever mentioned I love you, Lexa?"

"Buttercream can have that effect on people," Lexa hummed, leaning a palm down to support her weight as she practically lazed back across Clarke's desk. "Help yourself. Just leave the-"

"I know, I know," Raven rolled her eyes, fingers already lifting a chocolate and caramel monstrosity out of the box and bringing it to her mouth. 

Snapping out of her reverie, Clarke drew in a quick breath and tsked at her deskmate as she sat back down. "It's like eight in the morning, Raven."

"So?" she muffled through a face full of cupcake.

"Technically, it's 8… 22," Lexa unhelpfully supplied, checking and then double checking the gleaming white gold watch sat neatly on her wrist. Clarke watched a slim finger drag through the chocolate of one of the cupcakes in a slow swoop. "Everyone knows you're allowed to sin after 8am."

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Clarke frowned, her focus now centered entirely on the woman draped over her work area. 

"Trust me, Clarke," Lexa assured in a whisper while bringing the frosting covered fingertip to her mouth. Full red lips wrapped around the sugary digit before sliding it back out clean. "I'm an expert."

With that Lexa hopped up, legs swinging out in a graceful swoop as she lifted herself back onto the ground and hands slid over her chest in a show of straightening out the delicate fabrics of her clothes. Clarke valiantly tried not to watch how the slick material bunched and tugged in all the right places, a small inner voice chastising herself when the only coherent thoughts were of the fit and cut of her outfit. 

It was annoying how everything seemed to fit like it was made for no other body than Lexa's own.  

"Raven, I have a meeting at 11 that I need you to push back to 3," Lexa said as she finished her preening and collected her confectionery haul. "Charles wants to go over the contracts for a new client so I'll probably be busy dealing with kissing his ass until lunch." 

"You got it, boss lady," Raven nodded, immediately turning to her computer at the instruction. "Not that I believe for a second you kiss anyone's ass around here."

"Oh, there's one or two," Lexa hummed, actually having the nerve to openly let her eyes trail over to Clarke for a moment, throwing in a final wink before sauntering away and leaving Clarke to her ruddy cheeked stupor. 

Traitorously her eyes followed after, watching the hitch and sway of rounded hips and long legs as they glided through the office in high, pristine heels. Strong yet slim shoulders flexed with the confident swing of toned arms as she walked like she owned everyone within sight. The dip of her back looked so good wrapped in the smooth material of her blouse, its color and texture seeming almost liquid in the sunlight that slanted through the tall office windows; its smooth deep color spilling over the curve of her firm, full, squeezable looking-

"You need some alone time with that view?"

"What?" Clarke startled, head snapping back around to see her wickedly grinning friend as she carelessly took another bite of her treat.

"You looked like you were trying to get her pregnant with that stare."

"That-... No. Shut up. I wasn't even-... Shut up."

"Articulate. But what I don't understand is why you act like such an angry virgin every time she's around," Raven said, thoroughly ignoring the horrified look that stretched over Clarke's face. "I mean the girl comes up with the dumbest excuses to come talk to you, and you barely ever say two words. At least none that aren't hostile."

"She doesn't though," Clarke argued despite Raven's dubious look. "She came here to flirt with you. 'Ooo Raven, your hair's so sexy'," she mimicked in a nasally voice, dodging the free hand slapping her away as she moved to caress Raven's admittedly beautiful black tendrils. "Besides her being an HR ticking time bomb with how obvious she is, you're married for God's sake."

"You're so dumb. She didn't come here to flirt with me, dude. She came to give you that," Raven laughed and shook her head, reaching over to tap a finger on Clarke's desk.

Clarke followed her line of sight, face scrunching up in surprised confusion at noticing the perfectly placed red and white cupcake sitting on the front edge of her desk. 

"Haven't you ever noticed whenever she 'accidentally' gets too many cupcakes, miraculously and mysteriously there's one red velvet in there? And it always miraculously and mysteriously ends up in your very own little combative ass hands?" Raven asked, rolling her eyes at Clarke's disgruntled look of dawning realization. "Homegirl sure as hell doesn't know my favorite flavor, I take what I can get."

"... I guarantee you, it's a coincidence," Clarke said immediately busied herself with fixing the arrangement of her work belongings. "Lexa's… I don't even know what. But thoughtful or kind or whatever the hell everyone here seems to think, isn't one of them."

"What has she ever done to you? Why do you dislike her so much?" Raven asked. 

"How do you not? She's so… I mean how does no one else see it? She's insanely unprofessional, and says just the, ugh. The things that come out of her mouth. She flirts with everything in a skirt and bosses people around who've been here for years. Besides, haven't you noticed all the weird stuff that's happened?"

"Clarke, we're a startup marketing firm that caters to millennials. Of course there's weird shit going on around here. It's a circus filled with idiots."

"No," Clarke said firmly. "You don't get it, you weren't here before she got here. Things were quiet and fine at the old building and now everything's crazy. Contracts always going missing, John literally just disappeared one day-"

"You realize he probably just quit."

"The whole office has this weird vibe now," she continued on a roll. "I have never seen so many mess ups and freak accidents in an office building of all places before in my life. And she's always just… there."

Raven just stared at her with a blank look of boredom, slowly chewing a bite of her cupcake before swallowing and shaking her head. "Again. You realize everything you described sounds normal for a company who's recently expanded, right? Personnel turnover, paperwork mistakes, general growing pains as they adjust? And you're blaming her for that? When she's literally been nothing but nice to both of us?"

"She just… rubs me the wrong way."

"I think your issue is wanting her to rub you the right way."

Clarke scoffed in an overwhelming show of disgust, ignoring the swoop of her stomach to needlessly re-straighten the pile papers in her hands before carelessly tossing them aside. "You've lost your mind if you think I could even think about her like that. I've seen the way she looks at other people around here, believe me, she's not all sunshine and cupcakes. There's something up with her... Besides, she's annoying. And cocky. You guys treat her like she's God's gift but in reality she's just another asshat lawyer who thinks she's the master of the universe… And she's not even that pretty."

Clarke hadn't meant to go on such a vitriolic vomit of words but it was hard sometimes having to listen to the endless poetic waxing of the woman's praises. It just never stopped, and Clarke genuinely couldn't understand how not one single other person seemed to be able to see through Lexa's bullshit. Her pompousness and irritatingly smooth talking at every interaction. Like somehow her taking the time to figure out Clarke's favorite cupcake and going to the trouble of buying it for her… and hand delivering it to her desk… could or should somehow make up for the salaciousness of her smirk.

"Hey, Clarke?" she heard beside her after a moment.

"What?" she breathed, trying not to let her frazzled nerves get the best of her as she faced Raven with expectant annoyance. 

"Can you turn this way?... Now do this," Raven asked, tilting her own head this way and that as her eyes roved over Clarke's face from different angles.

"Why?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking about what contouring would work best with your clown makeup, you gigantic fucking liar." 

She easily ducked the halfheartedly slap Clarke aimed at her shoulder before carelessly tossing her empty wrapper in the bin between them and swiveling to resume tapping at her keyboard. 

"I'm just saying," Raven continued, "you're fooling no one with that act. You'd have to be blind not to see how attractive that woman is. I'm happily married and even I don't exactly mind watching her shake her ass past your desk fifty-some-odd times a day. She's a hottie with a body, Clarke. Everyone, including you, can see that."

"You're as bad as she is. And I'm telling your wife you said that."

"Bold of you to assume I haven't said it to her myself... Granted, it was in the context of me wanting you two to just knock boots already, but she's aware I work with eye candy and she doesn't care. My lady knows I'm faithful, I can eye-fuck whoever I want."

"You and Anya defy all sense of reasonable relationship standards."

"That was part of the deal," Raven hummed, clearly becoming more distracted as she leaned closer to her screen and focusing on her work. 

Sighing deeply at the apparent dismissal, Clarke resigned herself to the day as she clicked back into the long list of emails waiting for her… and begrudgingly took a bite of her cupcake.

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More soon 😈

[lon3lynation]

A Clexa AU Story that includes a soul searching road trip, long-distance friendship to relationship, phone conversations and Clarke demanding her car back from a thieving dick Lexa. Oh, and a lot of internal Lexa thoughts.

Chapter 3: Drive

Previous Chapter

"Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear Take the wheel and steer

It's driven me before And it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal But lately I am beginning to find That I should be the one behind the wheel

Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there with open arms and open eyes

Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there, I'll be there"

Drive by Incubus

6 straight hours.

Over 340 miles.

Lexa drove through Pennsylvania from NYC, stopping only once at a rest stop for a bathroom break and a gas refill. Anxiety had kept her alert during the whole drive but her tensed muscles and slightly blurred vision would be protesting by morning.

When the sunrise slowly made its appearance, now in the State of Virginia, she finally allowed herself to relax and exhale a tired breath. It felt like she had been holding it in the whole duration of her trip.

She had lost count of how many times she had checked her mirrors, filled with the paranoia that a police car would be on her tail. It was a challenge to resist the temptation to speed. With her luck, she would be seen and pulled over for speeding.

If that happened, it all would have ended for her right there. Over before it even had a chance to really begin. It would be her priority now to avoid making any reckless mistakes. She didn't need to arouse any sort of suspicion. Lexa usually did well going unnoticed and she didn't want that to change.

She really wanted - no, needed - to continue this soul searching voyage of hers. It truly felt like whatever she was searching for, it was just out of reach. Her fingers ached to stretch and grasp tightly to what she hoped would make her feel like a whole person again and that it had all been worth it.

In Richmond, VA, Lexa finally made the decision to allow her body to get its much deserved rest. Her eyes needed to rid itself of its blurry tired vision before it would be too risky to be on the road still.

Spotting the next available motel, she made the turn into the parking lot and parked the Jeep into an available spot before cutting the engine. She grabbed her backpack before hesitating for a minute to snatch Clarke's cell phone and shoving it into her jeans' pocket.

Moments later, Lexa entered her motel room and collapsed heavily onto the full-sized bed. It was nothing fancy, her room, but it was comfortable enough and clean. She didn't need anything more than that.

Between the thrill of successfully stealing a car, the post-anxiety, the whole unexpected conversation with Clarke and hours on the road, she was truly exhausted. Lexa didn't want to move a single inch but she mustered enough energy to move her backpack and the accidentally stolen phone onto a nearby table.

After she had abruptly ended the phone call with Clarke last night, she had felt a greater need to get out and far away from New York. It seemed very likely that the car would've been reported stolen shortly after that conversation. She had made it clear that she would not be returning the car back to Clarke.

It would be what any normal person whose car was stolen would do, right? Lexa knew if she had been the one with a stolen car, she would've instantly called the police and filed a report. She wouldn't have cared to amend things peacefully if she had been the one robbed.

Then again, she doubted that many people would've actually attempted to call the person who had stolen their property and try to get them to return it. She was pretty sure that wasn't a customary thing that happened between criminals and their unfortunate victims. That didn't seem to fit the case for Clarke.

Clarke did say she wasn't going to give up, that she was determined. She said she wouldn't report the car stolen. Apparently, the woman liked to go against the norm and do things differently.

Like making Lexa feel almost guilty during their call before she quickly ended it. She couldn't have that. She had gone through with her plan, got the car, left New York, and she wasn't about to let a stranger convince her to give it all up.

If she was ever going to return to New York, then it would be after she had reached the west coast and if she still wanted to be on the road, she would travel back east. As far as she was concerned, that wouldn't happen for some time. Months, even.

So, she pushed it to the back burner, deciding that nothing would force her to turn around. She wasn't about to let some deluded girl ruin her much overdue soul searching.

However, the whole thing did leave her unsure if there was a BOLO out on the car or not now. If there was, then she would put one of the fake plates she brought with her on the bumper. If there wasn't a report made, then she would most likely hold off on switching the plates. It was irritating how unconventional Clarke made this whole situation for her.

Lexa sighed tiredly before falling back into the bed, kicking her shoes off to the carpeted floor with soft thuds. More thoughts would have to wait for later. Her eyes were drifting shut and before she knew it, she was out like a light.

Someone is pounding on the door so loudly that it startles Lexa upright from where she lay sleeping on the bed. She freezes in position as she struggles to process what she's hearing and what it means.

A stranger banging on your door is never a good sign. Her heartbeat is quickly matching the quick pace of the pounding and breathing suddenly feels difficult. For a moment, Lexa finds herself feeling like a scared kid, wanting to close her eyes and wish the bad thing to go away.

But isn't she the bad thing that's now apparently trapped in the motel room?

Lexa jumps out of bed and runs toward the door, planting her back against it. The hard knocks send vibrations up and down her spine.

"Police! Open up right now!"

Shit, they found her.

Run! Escape! Go now!

Her mind shouts at her but Lexa's only way to escape is already compromised by the cops standing right outside her door. There is no way of getting past them, much less escaping their notice.

They have caught her.

She deflates, not understanding how she was found so quickly, but knows that she needs to surrender now.

"Okay! I'm co-...", she begins to alert them but suddenly trails off when hearing a muffled countdown from the other side.

No.

She tries to jump away in time but the door bursts open, splinters raining down everywhere and there's so much chaos.

She falls... and falls into infinite darkness to be devoured for all the sinful things she's done.

"No!"

Lexa shot awake, gasping out in fright as she quickly searched the room for anything or anyone out of place. There's nothing to be seen or heard. It was just her alone in a motel room after she had fallen asleep on the bed.

"I thought I was done with these dreams," she groaned to herself before smacking her hand down on the mattress in annoyance. After taking a moment to calm down, she eventually sighed to herself. "How long was I out?"

Slipping out of bed, she did a full-body stretch and observed the clock on the wall. Apparently, she was asleep for only 4 hours before the nightmare had woke her up. She had not missed the dreams. It's been nearly 3 years free of them haunting her unconsciousness.

She initially began having dreams when she learned how to successfully steal and found herself loving the thrill it provided. That first year was the hardest for her to come to terms with what she was doing. There was a lot of guilt, feeling torn between her morals and feeling unsure of how the hell to justify her actions.

There was also the fact that she feared she would get caught in the act every single time she did it and that police would instantly appear to toss her into jail. Of course, Anya totally loved to tease her about that but she also understood what Lexa was feeling and helped her come to terms with herself.

The dreams lessened after that and eventually, it stopped for good. It must've returned due to going through with her plan last night and the stress that followed after. Stealing a vehicle felt like a much bigger deal compared to the usual thievery she did to get by. It wasn't the same as being her friend's accomplice when she did it either.

With a little more time to process everything, she felt confident that things would go back to normal for her. She would find a way to deal like always. Until then, getting some food inside her to refuel sounded like heaven. The next step of her plan needed some figuring out, after all.

Deciding the little cafe next door would do, she readied herself before catching sight of the cell phone that laid on the table.

Right, that too.

She needed to decide what to do with it.

Snatching the phone up, she left her room and set about ordering lunch.

There were only a handful of people inside, so Lexa quickly found a desirable seat by the window after receiving and paying for her order. Removing the phone from her pocket, she set it on the table in front of her to stare at while preparing her coffee to her liking.

She could only imagine what she would find if she were to turn the phone back on. Missed calls, she predicted. Possibly all from Clarke if her hanging up on her didn't crush the woman's hopes of convincing her to return the car. It was safe to say she was curious, maybe, too curious for her own good.

Her mentor would tell her that keeping it could put her at risk of having her location tracked and to toss the phone in the dumpster. Be done with it. That'd be the most logical thing to do to keep yourself safe.

However, she could make good use of the phone for directions and to see if there was anything worth seeing before leaving Virginia. If she happened to also learn more about the person that confronted her over the phone, well, it didn't seem like too terrible of an idea. It could be useful to her if she heard from Clarke again.

Unwrapping her sandwich to take a bite, she turned the phone on with her free hand and observed the blue casing adorned with stickers before the welcome greeting for Clarke popped up. Swiping it aside to unlock the screen, which luckily wasn't password-protected, Lexa found her curiosity peaked at the photo used as the background.

Three young women, two of them dark-haired and a blonde, had their arms around each other. It appeared they were all in the middle of laughing when the picture was taken. It made the corner of Lexa's mouth twitched upwards for a moment. Last time she could remember having a picture taken of her looking so carefree had been with Costia. Her old wounds subtly ached at the reminder. It's been so long ago.

Lexa forced the reminder and ache away to refocus on the photo. She had felt a slight sense of recognition while looking at the three women. Her eyes kept going back to the blonde and the brunette with her hair down.

Oh.

She hadn't been close enough to really see their features well enough at the time but she remembered a blonde exiting the driver's side of the car and her friend out of the passenger side. O, had been the caller ID from last night. O and Clarke were in the photo with another friend of theirs.

That must mean the young woman with blonde hair was most likely Clarke. It had to be. Surprisingly, her first thought was that the girl had a very attractive smile and she wondered what her laughter sounded like. There had been nothing light in Clarke's tone when she finally answered the call. Her voice was filled with anger, desperation, and eventually, it softened toward the end as she tried to get Lexa to trust her.

She would never admit it out loud but normally girls with gruff voices like Clarke's tended to be a turn on for her. It apparently didn't sway far from that even when being called a thieving dick in that voice. Thankfully at the time, she was more distracted with the whole escaping New York thing to realize there was more than just amusement at the comment.

Shaking her head free of the realization, Lexa was glad to remain guilt-free and felt rather confident that Clarke would do just fine without her car.

Clearing her throat, she took a sip of her coffee as she decided to look for extra confirmation by clicking on the Instagram icon. It was still signed into Clarke's account. Her lips parted at seeing the deep blue eyes of Clarke's after clicking over to her profile to see her uploaded photos. Her eyes had been scrunched closed mid laughter in the wallpaper picture. Lexa wouldn't be surprised if most people got lost looking into those eyes. It felt like you could learn a lot about Clarke and her emotions if you searched deep enough.

Lexa believed her own eyes were probably empty looking compared to Clarke's. Cold and closed off. Only Anya got to witness her raw emotions once in a great while. It was rare when she would allow herself to crack open enough to let any vulnerability out. She couldn't even remember when she last cried.

Clarke appeared to be her exact opposite. If anything else, she was a reminder of a younger Lexa when she thought she finally found her place in the world and was loved. How things have changed.

Lexa enlarged the most recent photo, noticing it must have been taken last night. It was of Clarke leaning against the outside window of the corner store. An opened beer bottle was held loosely at her side and there were plastic bags filled with alcohol sitting around her feet. Clarke had looked off to the side, showing her profile with a look of irritation.

Beneath the photo it read:

Sorry, guys. I started without you because my car got fucking stolen.

Lexa winced slightly as she glanced at the comments below. Clarke's friends had some choice words for her without knowing the thief would actually end up seeing the comments. It was tempting to respond and perhaps scare them but that would be a pointless mistake to make.

Clarke had replied to one comment to reassure she would still make it to the birthday party. At least Lexa didn't completely ruin her plans. It was sort of strange as her thoughts wandered to what-ifs.

What if she had met Clarke before ever stealing her car?

Lexa believed that if she had seen Clarke at a bar or a club, she would have pursued her for a rare one night stand. She didn't have those as often but once a while she needed intimacy and release.

However, that hadn't been the case for them. Instead, Clarke was a victim to her thievery. There was no changing that even if she wanted to but she didn't, really. What was done, had been done.

Exiting the app, she decided to scroll through several missed calls. All were from Clarke, she suspected, clearly holding her friend's phone hostage over the night. There were also text messages sent to her from the same number - O - which confirmed her suspicions.

'That was rude as hell, you know?'

'Are you going back to ignoring me now? My car better be in one piece.'

'I meant it when I said I wouldn't involve the police. We can settle this between us. It's a win/win. I get my car back and you stay out of jail. Yay?'

'Answerr teh phon e!'

'yoy are such a nasshole. Im drunk and wastng my time calling u.'

'talk to me? please'

"i was shocked to hear ur voice. Youre not like a buff mean dude w/ such a nice feminine voice right? Thatd totally ruin m y imagination.'

And lastly, a text from this morning.

'Morning, criminal who continues to ignore my calls and texts. I'm fine with you not replying to my drunken ones. But can you please keep the car clean, at least?'

Lexa wasn't sure how she managed it, but in between chuckling and grinning into her cooling cup of coffee, she eventually finished her sandwich. It amazed her how persistent Clarke was acting. It was actually a bit impressive, if not also entirely entertaining too.

She was almost tempted to text back, to goad Clarke into another rant and perhaps tease her about already leaving a mess in the car. It'd make a nice distraction when she could use one. It was still a hell of an odd situation, conversing with the person that she stole a car from, but she hadn't expected to find herself intrigued by this Clarke.

Maybe it had been too long of a time since Lexa had really spoken to another woman around her age, much less befriending one. Not to mention that she had been longing for something new, unexpected, and even challenging. Clarke potentially had those attributes and that must be why she had taken an interest in seeing how it would all play out.

It was also a major bonus that Clarke hadn't reported the car stolen yet.

Guess that made the decision for her. She was going to hang onto the phone for the time being. It would be no problem for her to get rid of it quickly though if she ever needed to protect her location.

There was just one little thing that Lexa swore to herself to not do since she was keeping the phone now. If Clarke contacted her, then she would answer her. As for calling Clarke herself, she was absolutely not going to do that.

There had to be a line drawn somewhere.

No matter how much Clarke stated that she could be trusted, Lexa needed to stay guarded, at least for her own sake.

With that in mind, she looked back at the last of Clarke's texts and pondered what to type in response. It'll come to her, she figured, there was a lot to think about today as she continued to plan out her next step and destination. There had to be someplace in Virginia that she should experience before leaving.

Soon, she spotted a shelf filled with brochures of different local attractions by the counter. She picked out a few of them to look through after dumping her sandwich wrapper and cup in the trash.

Sitting back down by the window, Lexa read about Virginia Beach which would take her over an hour to get to the coastline. There was a 100 acres public park and Victorian estate called Maymont. She would visit that since it was in the same city, she was in. Lastly, she learned about Blue Ridge Parkway. The pictures alone were of such beautiful views and she wished to see them in person. It would take her opposite of Virginia Beach and a couple more hours to reach one of the several entrances to the mountain ridge.

A plan began to form in mind as Lexa allowed the anticipation to build. She was really doing this. There were so many places to visit and experience. She hoped they truly matched her expectations and more like they claimed in the brochures. She was tired of disappointment.

Today, she would explore what Maymont had to offer. Virginia Beach and Blue Ridge Parkway would have her back on the road tomorrow. She was ready to witness all that this road trip had to show her.

Having made her decisions, Lexa picked up the cell phone and returned to her motel room. She was in need of a hot shower to further relax her muscles but first, she responded to Clarke's texts with two of her own.

'Are you aware that you're displaying the 7 stages of grief, Clarke?'

'Also now I'm curious to know what you were drunkenly imagining as you thought of me with my nice feminine voice, hm?'

Later, a hangover Clarke would happily grin at finally receiving a response. It soon fell when she groaned softly to herself feeling embarrassed at the reminder of her drunk texting but also intrigued that her car thief fixated on that particular one.

Wasn't that specific conversation sort of…

Flirty?

[puthyflapps]

NFWMB chapter three

TW: This chapter has graphic mentions of violence. Read at your own risk.

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Clarke watches on wide-eyed as the angry man grasps his injured forearm. She can hear him mumbling expletives under his breath as blood gushes out of the fresh cut. The blonde turns her terrified gaze to the woman locked away in the cage with her, “Raven!” She chastises. She shouldn’t have done that, it’ll only make him angrier. The Latina should’ve just let him take Clarke. There’s no telling what he’ll do now. 

The two omegas watch as the enraged alpha quickly rips at the material of his shirt fabricating a tourniquet for his wound. Clarke can hardly breathe with the amount of angry pheromones rolling off the man. It's taking everything in her not to crawl to one of the four corners of the cage and submit. She had certainly not expected this turn of events when the alpha had first appeared.

The man had shown up at their enclosure with fire in his eyes and flung the makeshift door open almost taking it off the hinges. Clarke had prepared herself for the onslaught of abuse coming her way when she felt him fist a clump of her hair but, the abuse never came. The next thing she remembers is the grip on her blonde locks quickly loosening and the smell of iron permeating the air around her.

The pale omega had whipped her head around to find Raven with a white-knuckle grip on a piece of jagged, bloody shrapnel. Clarke had no idea where exactly the Latina had gotten the metal from or how she’d managed to conceal it for so long. She had felt grateful at first for the caramel-skinned girl’s quick thinking but now, sitting there petrified of what the alpha may do next, she regrets her friend’s rash decision to attack him. The omegas watch carefully as the man retreats out of the pen, making sure he locks it so they can’t escape, before pausing to mumble menacingly, “You're gonna pay for this.”

———————————————————————————————————

Night falls on the girls as they find themselves huddled together in an effort to conserve their warmth. The day had been a long and strenuous one and after the earlier events all the omegas wanted to do was rest. They’d had quite the argument after the alpha made his exit. Clarke had chewed Raven out for her stupid act of bravery and Raven had argued back that something had been different this time. The Latina had gone on and on about the look in his eyes and the way he smelled, citing it was like nothing she’d experienced before. The thought made Clarke uneasy so she had settled for just reminding the other omega that they were all each other had and they couldn’t risk that by starting fights with hardheaded alphas.

It was hard to explain but Clarke felt connected to Raven in a way. It was like they shared a bond all their own and perhaps that came from their situation or maybe they were always meant to find their way into each other’s lives. The blonde had never really had friends on the ark. If people didn’t want to be her friend because of her mother’s station then it was because she was an omega. The young woman had spent years wondering what it would be like to have a friend and now she finally knows albeit the circumstances aren’t the best. However, she truly believes that if it weren’t for Raven she would’ve lost her mind by now.

“Princess, you’re thinking so hard I can smell the smoke coming out of your ears,” the small, tan woman says before rolling over so the two are face to face. Clarke can’t help the tears that well up in her cerulean eyes, “I’m sorry…I’m just…thank you for saving me earlier.”

“It’s what friends do, Clarke. Besides, he was off his rocker more than usual and there was no way I was gonna let him touch either of us,” Raven says reaching up to wipe a lone tear from the blonde’s cheek.

“You’re my best friend, Raven.”

“I’m your only friend, Princess,” the omega jests. The two share a laugh despite the circumstances surrounding the day before snuggling further into each other to conserve body heat as the temperature around them slowly drops. Clarke can feel small pieces of gravel digging into her side as she tries to rest. The blonde is just on the cusp of sleep when she hears metal rattling in the distance. She’s so exhausted that she can’t even manage to crack a single eyelid open to see where the noise came from. Tightening her grip on her fellow omega Clarke attempts to block out any and all sounds.

The tired girl manages to get a minute or two of sleep before she’s startled awake by a sudden jerk and the sound of screams. Her eyes shoot open and lock on the large form of the alpha from earlier. He has a strong and most certainly, painful grip on one of Raven’s ankles as he attempts to drag her out of the cage. The Latina flails around desperately trying to get ahold of something, anything that would provide her some kind of leverage to escape. She tries to dig her fingers into the earth beneath her but the man is so strong that it barely slows him down. 

“Clarke, help me, please!” she screams in an effort to shock the pale omega back into reality. He’s almost made it to the door of the enclosure before Clarke shakes herself out of her entranced state. She springs to her feet before taking off in the alpha’s direction. She slams her tiny body against his and its enough to temporarily knock him off balance and allow her to grab ahold of her friend’s hands. The blonde is able to drag Raven a few feet back into the pen. The amount and intensity of the pheromones make Clarke want to drop to her knees and submit. It takes everything in the omega not to release her grip on the tan omega and bare her neck.

The powerful alpha stalks toward the omegas like they were prey and him, the predator. She can hear him growling louder and louder with each heavy step he takes. She has nowhere to go, her back to the chainlink of the cage. Her hands begin to sweat and her mouth goes dry. He rears back his fist before sending it crashing towards her face. Clarke can feel her nose crack on impact and she can taste iron as blood pours down into her mouth. He sends another punch plummeting towards her. This time it connects with her jaw and God, she thinks it might be broken. The Omega can feel the metal of the fencing cutting into her back as her knees go weak and she slides to the hard ground.

Clarke is fighting a losing battle with her mind. Her head feels like its swimming and everything sounds far away. She can just barely feel the calloused skin of Raven’s palm leave her hand as the alpha tears the two apart. Blackness starts to creep its way into her vision and she can’t tell up from down. He leans in close to her face and whispers menacingly, “Learn your place, omega.” The alpha casts a harsh slap across her face, busting the blonde’s thin lip open before returning his attention to the other woman. The last thing she can hear before darkness consumes her and she slips into unconsciousness is Raven’s screams as the man drags her out of the pen.  

———————————————————————————————————————

Clarke jolts awake causing pain to shoot through her injured ribs at the sudden movement. Her breathing is heavy as she looks around trying to figure out where she is. The last thing she remembers is staring into green eyes before passing out in that man’s tent. Her heart begins to race as she looks around the enormous tent she now lays in. How did I get here she asks to herself as she takes in the details of the pseudo bedroom. In the corner sits a wooden table with several maps covering the face of it, along with what appears to be weapons — swords mainly.

She smells her before she sees her. The scent of pine and something else she just can’t put her finger on fills her nostrils. She turns to see the female alpha from earlier entering through the flaps of the tent with what looks to be a platter of food. The blonde feels her mouth watering at the sight of the meats and cheeses but she knows better than to expect the alpha to even think about sharing with her. The Omega watches as the brunette sets the platter down before turning her attention to the woman resting in her bed.

“How long have you been awake?” She asks curiously.

“Not long,” the omega answers quietly. Lexa smiles kindly at her before taking careful steps toward the bed. She stops when she notices Clarke’s body seize up in fear at being in such close proximity to her. The alpha nervously shifts her weight between her two feet before speaking up, “You fell asleep in Niko’s tent so I brought you back to mine so no one would bother you. I hope that is okay.” She receives no answer from the small woman so she tries again, “Anya retrieved some clothes for you. Would you like to change into them?” A few moments pass before Lexa receives her answer in the form of a curt nod.

Lexa moves to the foot of the large bed where an intricately carved, wood chest resides. Picking up the articles of clothing her General brought her, she resumes her slow walk towards the skittish woman. The green-eyed woman places them gently in front of the omega and takes a seat on the bed with her back facing the other woman to offer her some privacy. Clarke makes no moves to get dressed, instead choosing to shift her glance between the outfit and the alpha who gave it to her. She can’t help but think it is a test of some kind. That as soon as she reaches out to touch the material the alpha will punish her. She casts another wary look at the alpha’s back prompting Lexa to turn around and speak up, “Would you like some help, Klark?”

Silence falls between them as Clarke contemplates her answer. Deciding that nothing worse could happen to her today, she throws caution to the wind and nods her head at the alpha. Lexa smiles sheepishly at the blonde as she nervously wipes her palms against the rough material of her pants. Tan hands reach out to push away the jacket they’d wrapped around the pale body earlier in the day. Lexa has to stop herself from running her fingertips over the exposed skin of the girl’s shoulders. She swallows harshly, casting her emerald eyes up to watch the woman’s face as she asks if she can remove her top. 

“…Yes,” Clarke replies meekly. The omega feels strong hands take hold of the tattered material of what was left of her shirt and begin to tug it over her head. The blonde can't help the hiss that escapes her lips at the strain put on her ribs.

“Moba,” Lexa whispers apologetically as she tosses the discarded material on the bed. She tries her best to keep the blush from rising to her face at the sight of the omega’s chest. Her breasts are concealed by bindings but it's enough to make the alpha’s mouth run dry. Clarke reaches out to grab the new shirt and hands it to a flustered Lexa. Reaching out the alpha takes the shirt from the omega and proceeds to slip the material over the blonde’s head. The brunette smiles when she sees blue eyes pop through the head hole of the shirt.

“Hei,” Lexa greets when the rest of Clarke’s head comes through the fabric. The omega giggles at the soft alpha before replying, hi, and slipping the rest of her torso into the garment. 

The blonde is so malnourished that the shirt appears extremely oversized on her body. The material comes all the way down to rest above her knees so Lexa foregoes removing the omega’s shorts (it might also have something to do with the fact that being that having her hands that close to the omega’s sex might send her into cardiac arrest).

“Thank you,” Clarke mumbles.

“You are welcome. I had some food prepared for us, would you like some?” The Commander receives her answer when she hears the girl’s stomach rumble at the mention of a meal. The tan woman reaches out her arms to help the omega out of the bed but settles for just carrying her to the table once she sees how unsteady her legs are. Lexa gently lowers the petite omega onto a chair at the table and moves the platter of food in front of her before taking a seat beside her. Several minutes of silence pass between them as Clarke makes no move to eat any of the offered food causing Lexa to speak up, “Do you not like this food? I can send for someone to get you something else, fruit perhaps-”

“No! I mean…I like it, I just…omegas aren’t supposed to eat first. We’re not even supposed to sit at the table. I am so sorry,” she rushes out trying to get to her feet and take her place on the ground by the alpha’s feet. God, how stupid could she be to forget such a simple rule. She’s lucky the alpha didn’t strike her down where she sat for being so arrogant. 

She takes a seat on the ground and waits for the alpha to begin eating and hopes there will be scraps left over that she can munch on. She doesn’t expect for the alpha to place the platter on the ground in front of her and she surely doesn’t expect the brunette to take a seat across from her.

“Why do your people believe that alphas should eat first, Clarke?” Lexa asks as she picks up a piece of dried meat and tops it with cheese before handing it to the blonde, signaling for her to eat it.

“I don’t know…those are the rules. Omegas eat last. If you eat before the alphas you’re punished,” Clarke answers before biting into the food at Lexa’s urging. The delicious flavors enveloping her mouth make her eyes roll back in her head and a moan escapes her lips. 

“And how were you punished?” The alpha asks fixing the blonde another piece of food. Lexa is trying her best to remain calm and not release a growl at the thought of alphas refusing omegas food.

“Raven and I-” 

“Reivon? Is that your friend?”

“Yes,…we were…we were um…I shouldn’t tell you. If he finds out I told you anything, he’ll hurt you too,” the omega croaks out. Lexa pumps out soothing pheromones, handing her a piece of bread to eat this time.

“Who is ‘he’?”

———————————————————————————————————————

“Bellamy! Please, stop! PLEASE!” The Latina screams as the alpha drags her through the forest. They must’ve been walking for an hour at least and the burning pain in her leg has only gotten worse with every step. The omega’s wrists are bound and the rope is tied so tight that it cuts into her skin. Her screams do nothing but anger him even more. He yanks on the rope sending her unsteady body crashing to the ground. She can feel her forehead connect with a rock causing the thin skin of her head to split.

The golden-skinned woman can feel herself being dragged along the forest floor when she doesn’t get up. Rocks, sticks, and thorns slice into her skin as the man pulls her along. She has no idea where he’s taking her but she’s sure when they get there she won't survive whatever it is he is going to do to her. Bellamy had been nothing but a ball of rage since Clarke had managed to escape earlier in the day. He had been on a warpath since returning to their campsite and finding the other omega missing. The alpha had grabbed Raven by the throat and thrown her up against the cage wall stating he was going to make an example of her.

The omega feels the man beginning to slow down and she’s thankful for the slightest pause. She has no idea where she is, they’re so deep into the woods that its impossible to tell left from right. Her head is throbbing and the shooting pain in her leg is almost unbearable. She can feel herself getting so close to unconsciousness but its overshadowed by the feeling of being dragged again. This time he only pulls her a couple feet before stopping. 

“Please, Bellamy,” she whispers as her eyes barely manage to focus on the man as he throws the rope binding her wrists together over a tree branch. He begins to pull, using the branch as leverage to raise the omega up until they’re just about eye level with one another. The position puts so much strain on her shoulders that she’s sure the extremities are close to dislocating. She can feel her body suspended in the air, floating between life and death as the alpha begins to cut away at what little material she has left of her clothes. With her naked form exposed to him, she pleads one more time, “…Please.”

The blood from her forehead runs down her face and mixes with tears as she sobs. He places his large hand around her throat giving it a squeeze as he leans in to whisper, “I am going to break you.”

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Trigedasleng translations

Moba: sorry

Hei: hi

XX

XXXX

[almostafantasia]

Lancelot (13/14)

Lexa Woods, an impeccably dressed British secret agent for the covert Kingsman organisation, whose latest mission sees her sneaking through the corridors of the White House in the middle of the night, finds herself having to seduce the daughter of the newly elected President of the United States in a bid to save the world. It’s a surprise to Lexa when she ends up falling for her target as fast as she does, meanwhile Clarke doesn’t expect her gorgeous date for an international political gala dinner to drag her into a world of thrill and danger where one wrong move could cause a global disaster.

a clexa kingsman au | chapter 13/14 read on ao3

Lexa doesn’t know where her jacket is.

It’s clearly not the most pressing issue at the moment, not when there are doctors checking up on each guest, not when there are armed members of the secret service with body armour and riot shields swarming around.

It was a very nice jacket though. The fit was just right and the red velour a striking colour that filled Lexa with confidence. Lexa will be disappointed if she can’t find it and ends up leaving it behind. She doesn’t think she’ll ever have another one like it, not unless she asks the tailors at Kingsman to make another one identical to it, but that would mean having to admit that she’s been careless enough to misplace the first.

Clarke would look good in Lexa’s jacket. It would suit her much better than the oversized men’s jacket she still wears over her dress. Lexa shudders even at the thought of Clarke wearing something that belongs to Roan Azgeda, when there is a perfectly good jacket belonging to Lexa that would keep her just as warm and make her look twice as good.

If only Lexa could locate it…

“Lexa! There you are!”

Lexa’s head snaps up as she hears her own name, to find Anya striding towards her with purpose in each step.

“Have you seen my jacket?” asks Lexa. “It must be around here somewhere.”

“That’s your biggest concern right now?”

Of course it isn’t Lexa’s biggest concern. Lexa is worried that one of the guests will have slipped away without being treated for the poison, she’s worried that she’s going to get arrested and tried for murder even though she only shot Ontari to save everybody else, she’s worried that Clarke won’t forgive her and that she’ll have to live the rest of her life with the knowledge that she’s betrayed the one person she’s allowed herself to truly care about. But it’s easier to suppress all of that and pretend that it’s all about a jacket.

“It’s a nice jacket,” shrugs Lexa. “It would be a shame if I didn’t get to wear it again.”

Anya reaches out and rests her hand on Lexa’s arm.

“You’re allowed to feel things, Lex,” Anya tells her, voice full of concern. “It’s not a weakness.”

Lexa can’t help the way that her gaze flicks across to where Clarke sits next to her father across the room, still huddled up under Roan’s jacket.

“Look where feeling things got me,” Lexa mutters bitterly.

Anya must sense Lexa’s resentment because she swiftly changes the topic.

“Anyway, they’ve arrested Nia Azgeda on her way to JFK to flee the country. She and her son are both going to face charges of treason, attempted murder, and attempted assassination of a President, to name a few.”

“So that’s it?” asks Lexa. “Job done?”

“I think so,” nods Anya.

Lexa pauses, looking around the room at all of the lives she’s saved tonight and wondering why she doesn’t feel better than this about such an accomplishment.

She voices this to Anya.

“Somehow I don’t feel as good as I should about that.”

“Me neither,” admits Anya.

“I think it’s pretty close call as to which of us is Kingsman’s worst agent,” jokes Lexa, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Bullshit,” snorts Anya, shaking her head in disagreement. “It’s very obviously me, by a long way.”

Lexa tries to protest, knowing that this mission has had its fair share of hiccups that have been a direct result of mistakes that she has made.

“But I…”

“Saved the lives of hundreds of people while I was too busy shagging Raven to care,” interrupts Anya, completing Lexa’s sentence before Lexa has the chance to say something self-deprecating about her own involvement in the mission.

Lexa considers Anya’s words and, realising that she doesn’t have the energy to protest, concedes half-heartedly.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“You needed me and I wasn’t there,” says Anya. “And I can only apologise for that and promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“It’s all fine now,” says Lexa. “We did it. We saved all these lives.”

Lexa gestures around the room, to the masses of guests that could have ended tonight as corpses, had it not been for a Kingsman intervention and the quick-thinking and hard work of Lexa and Anya. Lexa shudders even at the thought of it. All it would have taken is for one thing to have gone differently over the last couple of weeks, and there could have been a death toll of more than one here tonight. Lexa doesn’t want to imagine what would have happened if things hadn’t played out like they did, if she hadn’t agreed to go to that bar with Anya and bumped into Clarke again after Merlin specifically forbade them from leaving the hotel.

It’s a dark thought, and Lexa tries to swim away from it by lightening the mood.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I saved the life of a Tory Prime Minister,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she watches the British Prime Minister across the room, talking rapidly over a phone.

Anya doesn’t laugh, and Lexa glances up at her oldest friend to find anxiety written all over her face.

Lexa tries to put herself in Anya’s situation and imagines how she would be feeling if it was Clarke who ended up in the back of an ambulance with a bullet in her leg. She knows that she would be beside herself with worry, unable to do anything at all until she had the physical proof that Clarke would make a full recovery. Hell, Lexa is already worried about Clarke’s wellbeing, and the girl only sitting across the room, unharmed by bullets or any other weapons.

“Is Raven going to be okay?” asks Lexa, unsure how Anya is staying so unaffected by it all.

“I think so,” nods Anya. “I wanted to follow her to the hospital but she told me to stay here and make sure that everybody else was okay too. But I phoned the hospital pretending to be her mum and they told me that her condition is stable.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lexa says truthfully. “You could probably go, you know. I think there’s enough people here to have everything under control. I’m sure Raven would appreciate a familiar face at her side.”

“I don’t know,” shrugs Anya. “I don’t want to abandon you here again. I would die if something happened while I was gone.”

Lexa shakes her head and rests a reassuring hand on Anya’s shoulder.

“Now who’s the one hiding from their feelings?” asks Lexa, shooting Anya a teasing grin.

“Oh, piss off!”

Lexa wakes up to a knock on her hotel room door. A quick glance at the screen of her phone tells her that it’s just gone four thirty in the afternoon - she’s slept for nearly ten hours, but Lexa’s eyes are still heavy with tiredness.

Lexa is far too exhausted to give a shit about her appearance. She still wears the clothes from last night, or at least the shirt and trousers, both crumpled and a little blood-spattered and not at all appropriate for answering the door in. But the list of people who could be at her door is only three: Anya or Merlin here to update her on the arrangement for leaving America now that their job here is done; or one of the hotel’s maids who, Lexa reasons, has probably seen some much weirder stuff than a little blood on a guest’s shirt.

The person outside knocks again, and Lexa reluctantly hauls herself up onto her feet and trudges over to the door, where she unlocks it with a click and turns the handle to open it.

“Um, hi.”

It’s Clarke. Not Anya, not Merlin, definitely not a maid, but Clarke. Lexa wishes now more than ever that she had taken the time to shower and change her clothes before she fell asleep. In comparison, Clarke looks as clean and as fresh-faced as she would if she hadn’t had the night that she did at the gala dinner.

“Clarke,” says Lexa, trying not to show how surprised she is to find Clarke outside her hotel room. “I … uh, I fell asleep as soon I got back here. I was completely wiped out.”

Clarke glances down at Lexa’s attire and nods once.

“I can see that. Can I come in?”

Lexa steps aside immediately and Clarke takes hesitant steps past her and into the hotel room. Clarke hovers near the door, not quite making herself at home, and Lexa is left feeling only even more awkward about the way they left things last. It seems strange to be this careful around each other, especially given the memories they made in this very room just days ago after their date, but Lexa has to remind herself that Clarke has every right to still be angry at her.

“Clarke, I just want to start by saying that I’m so…”

“No,” Clarke interrupts her. “You don’t get to apologise yet. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this - thinking about you - and I’ve practiced ten different versions of what I want to say to you, so you don’t get to say anything until I’ve got this out.”

Lexa closes her mouth and nods obediently, waiting for Clarke to say her piece.

“I’ve been trying to get my head around why you lied,” admits Clarke. She lets out a sigh, then continues animatedly, “Like, it frustrated the fuck out of me at first. I thought we had something special and how dare you think you could play me like that? But also, how could I be stupid enough to fall for that?”

Lexa wants nothing more than to interject, to tell Clarke that they do have something special, that she hasn’t been able to think about anything but Clarke since they first stumbled into each other in the halls of the White House. But she knows that Clarke still has so much more to say, and Lexa forcibly keeps her mouth closed and saves her apologies and explanations until Clarke gives her permission to speak.

“If you said to me that you needed to be at the dinner because of your mission, I would have invited you in an instant,” continues Clarke. “You must have known that!”

Though she stays silent, Lexa gives a little nod in response.

“And that’s when it hit me,” says Clarke. “You wanted that date. You wanted an ‘us’ that was more than me just being a girl you met on a mission.”

Lexa’s eyes start to prickle with tears, and an uncomfortable lump forms in her throat, making it difficult for her to swallow.

Clarke continues, her voice softer and more thoughtful than before, and her blue eyes boring into Lexa.

“Our date and that night we spent together felt incredibly real and I don’t think it would have happened like that if you’d just asked me to take you to the gala dinner. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Because the only other option that makes sense is that you saw an opportunity to play me and get laid, and I really hope it wasn’t that.”

Lexa shakes her head and wipes at the tears in her eyes before they have a chance to spill down her cheeks. This conversation is important and it’s going to be difficult enough without having to force the words out past wave after wave of tears.

“I told you that I don’t do this often,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t do feelings.”

Lexa’s knee twinges in pain and she grits her teeth as she mentally wills her old injury to go back to sleep, before she continues talking.

“There have been girls on missions before, but that’s always been easy,” Lexa tells Clarke. “There’s things that you can say to make a girl swoon, things you can do to push the right buttons and get what you want, and that’s easy because it’s a routine that I’ve practiced before. It’s easy because I have no personal investment in those girls.”

“But you do in me?” asks Clarke, her eyebrows raised.

There’s something that looks like hope in her eyes - a glimmer that reignites something within Lexa’s chest, a feeling that maybe there is still a chance to make things right with Clarke.

But of course there is still a chance. Clarke wouldn’t have come here if there wasn’t at least a small part of her still holding out for Lexa. It would have been way too easy to ignore Lexa, to let her fly back to England and forget about her entirely. The fact that she’s here says as much as any words could do.

It’s especially important for Lexa to get this right. Clarke has been kind enough to give her a chance to explain herself, and Lexa will berate herself for a long time if she takes that opportunity and fucks it up beyond repair.

“From the very second I first saw you, I knew I was in trouble,” admits Lexa, recalling their first meeting and the fluttering in her chest she felt when she first laid eyes on Clarke. “I don’t want to call it love at first sight, but I could feel some kind of connection straight away.”

Clarke is quiet for a few seconds, and she takes a seat on the end of Lexa’s bed, before she finally concedes, “I felt it too.”

Lexa’s heart flips just like it did that very first time, in inexplicable rush of excitement in her chest at Clarke’s admission that their first meeting had the same effect on her too.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this yet, but I was wearing an earpiece that night,” says Lexa, smiling to herself at the memory. “I had Anya howling with laughter in my ear the entire time I was trying to make an impression on you, because even she knew that you were going to ruin me. And then ever since, I’ve had the real Anya reminding me that this is a mission, that you weren’t allowed to be anything more than another mark.”

“So really, Anya is the one I should be mad at right now?” asks Clarke.

“No,” says Lexa, shaking her head. “Because if it weren’t for Anya, I never would have been in the bar that night, and I wouldn’t have asked you to get me into the White House again, and I definitely wouldn’t have asked you out on that date. Without Anya, I would have run away from my feelings and never spoken to you again.”

Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together in thought.

“So should I be throwing a drink in Anya’s face, or buying her a thank you card?”

Lexa blushes a little bit at the reference to last night, remembering the feeling of the cool drink hitting her face and the betrayed look on Clarke’s face right before she stormed away. It doesn’t quite seem like that was only less than twenty four hours ago. So much has happened since then that Lexa feels as though an entire lifetime has passed since.

“I guess it depends what happens next,” answers Lexa, shrugging her shoulders.

Lexa knows what she wants to happen next. And if she gets her own way - if Clarke agrees that she wants to put things behind them and try to move forward together - Lexa thinks that maybe she will be the one who owes Anya and thank you card.

“When do you fly out?” asks Clarke.

“In the next couple of days, I think,” replies Lexa.

She hasn’t yet spoken to Anya or Merlin since she returned to the hotel very early this morning, but Lexa doesn’t think that they’ll be staying in America long. The events of last night will likely be plastered all over the media and it’s unlikely that Merlin will let them stick around for long enough to get their faces associated with it all. Besides, now that their mission is over, there’s no longer a reason to stay over here.

(It’s a lie. There is a reason, and her name is Clarke Griffin.)

“And I’m supposed to return to college tomorrow afternoon,” Clarke adds. She lets out a disheartened sigh, and then says, “It feels a lot like the universe is working against us.”

Lexa’s heart catches in her throat. She almost doesn’t want to believe what Clarke has said, wants to think that it’s just a product of her own hopeful imagination. Because it sounds a lot like Clarke has just admitted she wants to make things work with Lexa.

“Am I forgiven?” Lexa dares to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke pushes herself up into a standing position and her hands reach out to seek Lexa’s hips, fingers gripping tightly as soon as she makes contact like she never wants to let Lexa go.

“You idiot,” exhales Clarke. “Of course you’re forgiven.”

The way their lips crash together is inescapable, like the opposite poles of two magnets unable to stop themselves from flying together. Lexa nearly starts crying right there - she thought she had lost Clarke, thought that her own actions might have pushed Clarke away for good - and the noise that slips from her lips as she suppresses those tears ends up sounding like a choked whimper.

The noise seems to encourage Clarke. She takes two steps backwards and sits on the end of the bed again, and the hand on Lexa’s hips cling impossibly tighter. Lexa finds herself leaning forward as Clarke sits down, lips still unwilling to leave Clarke’s even for a second. There’s a moment where Lexa thinks that she’s free-falling, a split-second in which gravity seems to take over and the only thing tethering Lexa to reality is Clarke’s touch on her hips and on her mouth, but it’s over in a flash. Lexa finds herself sitting in Clarke’s lap as Clarke pulls her forward even further, until Lexa’s full body is pretty much covering Clarke’s on the bed.

It would be so easy to get lost in each other, to keep kissing until long after hands wander and clothes come flying off, but Lexa knows herself well enough to know that there’s a high chance that she’ll either burst into tears or pass out within moments of orgasming, and she isn’t ready for that just yet.

They still have a lot left to discuss.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Lexa mumbles against Clarke’s lips, forcibly lifting her head and rolling off Clarke’s body to the side. “We should figure this out first.”

“Buzzkill,” says Clarke, rolling her eyes and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand as she sits up. “No, I’m kidding. You’re right.”

Lexa moves to sit on the edge of the bed, putting a little bit of distance between them so that Clarke and her distractingly kiss-hazed eyes aren’t right there in Lexa’s immediate vicinity. She needs a clear head for this next part of the conversation, and that won’t happen if she and Clarke are practically on top of each other.

“I have something else to tell you,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t work for MI6.”

Clarke’s mouth falls open and she frowns at Lexa in confusion, before she asks, “You don’t-? But if you’re not a secret agent then-”

“I work for an organisation called Kingsman,” explains Lexa. She laughs to herself, then adds, “I don’t know if I’m even allowed to tell you this but I’m fed up of lying to you. Actually, I think Kingsman is probably so secret that it wouldn’t even count as treason to tell you about it.”

“What’s Kingsman?” asks Clarke.

“A secret intelligence organisation based in London,” clarifies Lexa. “Most of what I told you is completely true. I really did join the army straight out of school but had to drop out because of injury. Then Anya, who I had known since school and was already working for Kingsman, put my name forward for the recruitment tests. I passed and they offered me this job. I became Agent Lancelot.”

“So you’re a secret secret agent?” asks Clarke, a trace of awe in her voice.

Lexa nods, her lips twitching up into a little smile.

“I guess so. And I’m sorry for lying to you. About this and about the dinner.”

“Lucky for you, I really like you,” smiles Clarke, reaching out to take one of Lexa’s hands.

“Are we going to make this work?” Lexa asks hopefully. “It’s a five hour time difference when I’m back in London.”

Clarke shrugs, and then says, “Could be worse.”

Lexa laughs softly under her breath, because it most definitely will get worse than that.

She tries to explain this to Clarke.

“Of course, there’s no guarantee how long I’ll be in London for, or even where I end up going next,” says Lexa. “Or if I would be able to contact you at all. When I’m really deep undercover it sometimes isn’t safe.”

Clarke’s face falls a little bit, apparently having been so caught up in the excitement of making up after their disagreement that she had forgotten the nature of Lexa’s work and the fact that she might be constantly travelling all over the globe.

“That sucks,” admits Clarke dejectedly. She glances up at Lexa, a glimmer of positivity in her eyes as she adds, “But I’m not the kind of person who needs to be texting somebody I’m into all the time.”

“No, me neither.”

Clarke grins and holds one of her hands up in the air, palm facing Lexa.

“High five to maintaining healthy relationship boundaries.”

Lexa can’t help the bubble of laughter that leaves her throat, and she awkwardly lifts her own hand to press a soft palm against Clarke’s.

Clarke blushes, realising what she’s just done, and mumbles, “Sorry, that was weird. Carry on.”

“Right,” says Lexa, trying what they were talking about before the high five. “We wouldn’t be able to talk all the time, and we definitely wouldn’t get to see much of each other.”

“I could come and visit you,” suggests Clarke. “I get three months off for summer. I could spend some of that with you.”

“And I’ve been working a lot this year,” adds Lexa. “I’m due some time off this summer.”

Clarke reaches for one of Lexa’s hands, much less awkwardly than the last time their palms met, and laces her fingers through Lexa’s.

“We’re actually doing this,” says Clarke, with the air of a giddy child about her voice as she speaks. “We’re going to make this work.”

“I have no idea what’s going to happen in the long term,” confesses Lexa, “but we’ve got the short term figured out. The rest we can work out as we go.”

Clarke pulls on their connected hands, encouraging Lexa to come closer again, and Lexa is too weak around Clarke to do anything but comply. She settles on top of Clarke again, this time with Clarke’s legs wrapped around her waist and locked at the ankle behind Lexa’s hips, effectively trapping her in place. Not that Lexa minds. It’s a very nice place to be trapped.

“As for the super short term…” says Clarke, tipping backwards until her back hits the mattress and bringing Lexa with her.

“Oh, you have some ideas about that too?” teases Lexa, her face just inches from Clarke’s as she uses one of her arms to prop up her body weight.

“First of all, we’re going to take a shower,” says Clarke, rocking her hips up so that her pelvis grinds against Lexa’s lower stomach.

“We are?”

“Yeah,” says Clarke, curling a hand around the back of Lexa’s head and drawing her closer so that she can whisper into Lexa’s ear, as if she’s imparting some big secret that needs to be kept from the rest of the world, “and then I’m going to take you to bed and fuck you stupid. Then you’re going to let me take you out to dinner, and after that we’re going to come back here and have sex again. And probably again after that.”

Lexa’s brain short-circuits at the phrase “fuck you stupid” and she barely registers the content of the rest, only Clarke’s husky voice and the obvious implications of her words from the way that her hips slowly move and seek out contact from Lexa’s body.

“I really like this plan,” says Lexa, her voice breathy with arousal.

Clarke grins at the admission.

“Why don’t we move this to the shower and you can show me just how much you like it?”

“Is Raven okay?”

The question comes to Lexa’s mind when she’s naked in bed, tangled around Clarke and the bedsheets, some time after round three has reached its conclusion. Somewhere along the way, the idea of Clarke taking Lexa out to dinner became forgotten, and a cart once laden with room service stands at the foot of the bed, now carrying plates of half-eaten food and an empty bottle of champagne that Clarke insisted on ordering to celebrate saving the world.

“That’s the first thing you have to say after I make you cum?” asks Clarke, propping herself up on one elbow while the fingers of the other hand brush stray curls out of Lexa’s face.

“I mean,” admits Lexa, “I’m feeling guilty that I’m here enjoying this - enjoying you - and she’s stuck in a hospital bed with a bullet in her leg.”

“They took the bullet out in surgery,” Clarke tells Lexa, her hand still absently playing with Lexa’s hair, curling loose strands around her fingertips. “Last I heard, she was high on pain meds and trying to persuade Anya to dress up as a sexy nurse.”

Lexa snorts to herself.

“I bet Anya loved that.”

“I think if Raven hadn’t just come out of theatre, Anya might have been less sympathetic,” grins Clarke.

“I’ll try and visit her before I leave for England,” says Lexa, voicing her thoughts aloud. “It’s mostly my fault that she got shot.”

“When do you fly back?” asks Clarke, a trace of sadness in her voice.

“I don’t know,” confesses Lexa, nestling her head against Clarke’s shoulder and draping her arm across Clarke’s bare stomach beneath the cotton sheet that shields their sweaty bodies from the chill of the hotel room. “Within the next day or two, I would guess. And you go back to college in the afternoon?”

“Mmm.”

Lexa lifts herself from Clarke so that she can reach for the phone on the nightstand, unlocking the screen to check the time. It’s just gone midnight, and time is passing much faster than Lexa would like.

“But,” says Clarke, rolling Lexa onto her back and covering Lexa’s body with her own as she nuzzles her face into Lexa’s neck and sends a hand lower, “I don’t plan on sleeping tonight until I’ve had you at least twice more…”

“Clarke, I’m not sure I can go again,” protests Lexa, even as her legs fall open to let Clarke’s exploratory fingers dip into her folds, still wet and sensitive from the last round.

“Sure you can,” sniggers Clarke, sucking the skin of Lexa’s neck between her teeth as her fingers tease and probe.

Clarke, Lexa quickly decides in that moment, is going to be the death of her.

Lexa can’t wait.

[blodkru]

You Could Have Done So Much

Linctavia fic. Hamilton inspired.

This is something I wrote while rewatching season 3 today. I needed it and for season 4 and 5 to not exist for a very brief moment. It’s more or less a bunch of thoughts at once and I apologize if it doesn’t make sense. If you’re tagged and don’t want to be, I’d appreciate a RB but I understand if you don’t or don’t like it.

Word count: 3015

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I finally stopped crying.

 She writes the words down with shaking fingers. It hurts just as much as it did the first time she ever wrote in the journal. It doesn’t get better, much to everyone’s disagreement. She’s tired of hearing it really. But she let’s them hope she will be okay, eventually, that she’ll be able to be herself again. But it’s only been 3 years.

Or already 3 years depending how you see it.

3 years since A. L. I.E. Since Roan became King of both Azgeda and the 13 Clans. She’s surprised how well he’s done. But then again, he’s doing what he said he would. He hasn’t lied since he became King. At least, not to Spacekru. Part of her is glad he’s done so well. Clarke becoming a Nightblood had complicated things but only temporarily. Once she found out A. L. I.E. had been lying about the nuclear plants, Clarke wanted nothing to do with being a leader. Octavia had expected her to go back to Floukru with Luna. Something in her had changed once Lexa died; Octavia can’t blame her. Something in her died the day he died. And she wasn’t a leader. Sure, Skairipa was someone people looked up to. But thankfully not to the extent they did Wanheda.

The last she did hear from Clarke, she was in Polis on an ambassador visit. With Bellamy. She wished the two of them would get it over with and become official. Everyone in the 100 wanted them to be together, she wanted them together, even those in Arkadia could see it. If Finn, Lexa, Gina, and Echo couldn’t get in the way then maybe they needed to get it together. Get together.

But it’s never that easy and she knows it.

It had been a full 2 years since she had been in Arkadia, refusing to go there after everything. Seeing the faces of those who all but caused the disasters that happened was nearly impossible. Even seeing Monty’s always kind face was difficult at first. He and Harper did their best to soothe the nightmares she had; more than once she woke to the woman’s concerned face and let herself be comforted. Bellamy would have done the same if she allowed him near her. He was her brother but part of her would never forgive him. He had come to understand that.

But he did send her off with one hug. She couldn’t stay in Arkadia, she needed to leave and find herself. “I love you, O.” He had squeezed her tight and she nodded into his shoulder. She hadn’t been able to make herself respond. She held on for a moment longer before mounting a new horse she came across- Icarus, she named him- and left. Monty had given her a satchel full of just about any medication she would need. And moonshine, of course. Raven gave her a small radio she could use if she ever was in trouble.

“Or if you miss us.” The brunette had shrugged. Octavia had taken it hesitantly. She wasn’t sure if she would ever use it; trouble or not. Abby gave her more medication and told her to please be safe. Even Clarke had sent her off. She had simply told her to be safe and if she was ever in need of supplies, Nylah would never charge her for them at the trading post.

2 years had felt like so much and no time all at once. She of course had seen her friends and brother since then. Once every 3 or 4 months they would run into each other in one place or another. Mainly the trading post. She quickly figured out Nylah would let Spacekru know when she would be at the post for more than 1 day. They would show up only hours later. Part of her wanted to hate the woman for doing so. But she couldn’t, not with every kind and knowing word she would say.

 I spoke to the last of your friends yesterday. You left a journal with him, too.

 Since leaving Arkadia, Octavia had traveled. With boarders being less of a factor now- and people fearing Skairipa- she was able to go nearly wherever she pleased. She decided on tracking down any and everyone who knew him. It was hard, much harder than she even thought possible, but she managed. She started with Indra.

“He was a great healer, Octavia. You know just as I do.” Getting the warrior to open up had been difficult in its own way. Octavia pleaded with her multiple times; had sat outside her hut for three days until Indra relented. Indra had watched him grow up, they were both Trikru after all. He had grown kinder than other boys; he hadn’t wanted to be a warrior. Much to his father’s chagrin. His mother died when he was only 6 years old from a disease that took a dozen or so others with her. Since then, he had wanted to be a healer and help others. Especially since the man in the ship who his father made him kill. Octavia had left more than satisfied. She wrote everything down in the same journal he had given her.

She couldn’t bring herself to ever lose it.

She found others soon after Indra. The woman had let slip that Octavia was looking for others who could tell her about him. Friends of his came out of nowhere. As far as Octavia had known, he didn’t have many friends. But people did know about him. Many men, woman, even one or two children sought out the infamous killer from the sky. The told her stories, times he had helped them. Sickness, injury, anything. If he was needed, he would help.

It wasn’t long before she found out he would leave journals with these people. Much like the one she had; drawings, notes, medicine ingredients littered the pages. The all too familiar handwriting was like a blessing each time she would meet someone who had one. More than not, they would give them to her. The first woman had all but shoved it into her hand. She refused to keep it, claiming she had memorized everything she needed, and Octavia should have it. Everyone knew of the grounder and sky girl who fell in love. They wanted to help the love story in some capacity.  She hardly slept. She stayed awake days at a time just reading everything he wrote. It took her almost the full two years since she left to find them all.

The last notebook came in the form of a young man on the outskirts of Trishanakru. Him, his parents, and brothers. They had also heard of the girl seeking notebooks from her lost love. The mother had greeted her with a hug Octavia tried to keep away from. The father asked her to stay for dinner and rest in their spare shed. “Even killers such as yourself need rest.” She had grimaced and politely declined. Only when she was given the last journal did she change her mind.

He cornered her just as she was about to mount Icarus. “Wait!” He came running out of the home and up to her. He held out a notebook a little smaller than the others. “Stay, please. I want you to have this and please stay. Just for the night.” She had taken the book and flipped to the front page. Handwriting she would know anywhere met her. She held the book to her chest as she considered the offer.

She accepted.

 You wrote so much. I’m surprised you didn’t write books. Encyclopedias even. Some of it makes no sense to me- what even is a pomegranate? I wish you could explain it to me.

 Making her way back to Polis had been a hard decision.

But word had spread that King Roan was having the leaders and ambassadors of every Clan meet. She wasn’t part of a Clan anymore…was she? Two years on her, going here or there, led her to feeling like she belonged in no clan. Nokru. A Clan of one. She decided to go there and see what the meeting was about.

She hadn’t expected to come back to the mess she did. Then again, everywhere seemed to be a mess really. Something was always going wrong. She arrived in Polis the day of the meeting. The city had been surprisingly quiet as she entered. Even Icarus seemed uneasy. When she came to the tower, it was almost like they were expecting her. She left her horse there but took her bag. It held every single notebook she had managed to find, and she refused to be separated from it. She walked right up to the war counsel room and entered without a second thought. All 13 Clan leaders and ambassadors surrounded the center table.

“Octavia?” Of course, her brother had been there. He had grown a not too shabby beard and looked less tired than the last time she’d seen him. Clarke hung by his side; it took Octavia seconds to realize they held hands. She bit back the smile that almost surfaced.

“Skairipa, nice of you to join us.” Roan addressed her. She nodded at him and was pleased to see Indra to his right. She hadn’t seen the woman in over a year. Octavia weaved through the bodies in the room and came to stand next to Indra. The older woman welcomed her at her side. “As I was saying, about the attacks.” Roan continued what they had been discussing. Octavia scanned the small crowd for faces she knew. Bellamy and Clarke, Kane and Abby, two or three ambassadors from neighboring Clans, Echo (the woman’s face made her want to gouge out her eyes). To her surprise, Luna had been there. The curly haired woman met her eyes with a sad stricken face.

Octavia found out quickly how dire the situation was. A group of rogue Grounders were slaughtering villages. They killed anyone just for the food and shelter. Many children were left orphaned and starving. Three parties were being sent out: one to find and bring the children to Polis, another to provide medical care to any they found, and the last to stop the rogues. Octavia didn’t hesitate to volunteer for the last one. Along with nearly half the group. It was decided Skaikru would lead the medical party. With Clarke and Abby as the only doctors in the group. The scout party would be led by Indra and Luna, along with an ambassador from Trishanakru and Podakru.

Roan and Echo would lead the kill squad. Octavia had bit her tongue about Echo. Roan had nearly banished her for betraying Skaikru and attempting to kill Octavia. How could anyone trust her now? It didn’t matter in the end. The found the men who were behind the killings and heresy. They found them camped out near Arkadia of all places. There were more casualties than Octavia had wanted. She left the battle bruised and bloody; nothing unusual. Bellamy had broken his hand beating the living hell out of one man. Even Roan walked away with a broken nose and bruised ribs. But the men had been caught and dealt with in a more humane way than Octavia had wanted.

With the men taken care of, they had found some people had been kept as prisoners. Specifically young girls. Octavia had been disgusted and set them free with Echo’s help. The girl’s and woman cried and thanked them as they were led to safety. Octavia refused to accept the praise. Echo had shrugged and told her she should accept it. “You saved their lives. Who knows what would have happened to them if we hadn’t found them in time.” Malice echoed her words. Octavia reciprocated her anger. For once, she was glad to be back in battle. Blood, bruises, and everything that came with it.

 I think you would be proud of me. I killed for a cause this time, saved people. You should have seen how many people there were. So many little girls who didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t just leave, right?

 One little girl attaches herself to Octavia. Her hair was deep brown with dozens of braids. Her skin such a familiar sepia it was almost odd. Her eyes are what got Octavia. The light brown made the hardened warrior melt. The little girl had appeared by her side one day a week after the incident. She sat on the floor next to Octavia’s feet and stayed there the whole time Octavia spoke to Clarke. The older of the two had been checking up on her injuries when suddenly, there was a child. Neither thought much of it as the infirmary was crowded with injured and scared children. But when Octavia tried to leave, the little girl had gotten up and followed. Octavia thought it was odd to say the least.

“Maybe she likes you. You are well known, after all.” Clarke had shrugged and left the two. The little girl couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. She wore simple black pants and a shirt and looked like she needed a bath. And shoes. Her tiny feet were bare and red. Octavia had looked around petrified for a moment. Who was this child? Why was she following her?

“What’s your name?” She finally spoke to the girl.

 You’d like her, Linc. She looks so much like you it had me almost in tears all over again. She even acts like you I have to think you had a secret child you never told me about. She’s quiet but loves learning. Especially about medicine and healing. She spends almost as much time with Clarke and Abby as she does me. Bellamy likes her and thinks she’s good for me. Just like you were. But her eyes are what get me the most. I don’t think I’ve been able to look her in the eyes without almost breaking down. I think she understands, though. She asks about you. Who you were, what you were like, why you wrote so much. I tell her everything. About you, you saving me when I fell off that damn embankment. You helping Skaikru. Arkadia. Even about us almost escaping to Luna. She likes that story the best. I do too. Sometimes she tells me to rewrite it like we did make it. I haven’t been able to. For now, she likes reading your journals and learning everything you’ve taught everyone else. What you taught me.

 Octavia sits in front of a fire. It’s been another 2 years. 2 years since the last entry she had written. She has all the journals still and reads them frequently. More than she did any mythology book Bellamy gave her. She reads them to Rory mostly. The little girl she’s come to love is now 9 and still loves bedtime stories. Love. Octavia doesn’t know how the word snuck its way back into her life but it did. Along with every emotion and heartache that came with it. She wouldn’t change it for anything.

Since Polis, she continued traveling. Only this time she had a purpose. She became a tracker and map maker. There had to be more of the world than the small area of TonDC and Azgeda. The desert could surely only go on for so long. So, when Roan approached her with plans to seek the West, Octavia took the job happily. Rory would come with her along with anyone else she wanted to take. She had been hesitant to take anyone else. Only when Indra and Bellamy found out her plan to leave at night did she allow others to come. Bellamy brought Clarke, of course. Indra brought Gaia. It was startling to see the Flame Keeper after so many years. She had chopped her hair off and wore more warrior type clothing like her mother.

Together, the group of 6 found life in parts of the world they never thought possible.

Octavia looked up at the sky and down to the body in front of her. Rory lay between her legs with her head resting on Octavia’s chest. She kept her legs tight around the girl, always afraid of letting her go. Bellamy and Clarke were fast asleep on the other side of the fire. Indra and Gaia are looking at maps and writing down everything they’ve come across. They don’t seem to notice Octavia as she looks at her makeshift family.

Family is a word she never thought would be in life again. After losing her mother, Lincoln, almost Bellamy, and even herself. But she has her odd family now and wouldn’t give it up for anything. There was only one person missing from it. But he was there, as long as Octavia continued to read his journals and tell his stories. Their stories. Soon to be Rory and the rest of the family’s stories. They’ve formed their own nomad Kru now. The name was hard for her to get use to, but she knew Rory meant well when they all discussed it. It was to honor him.

He would live on and he would be there with her.

 Though I can’t wait to see you again, I know I have to keep living. For Bellamy, for Rory. Even for Clarke, Indra, and Gaia. We’ve found so much I can’t wait to tell you about it all. I’ve started writing in my own journals since this one is becoming a little worse for wear. Rory still reads them and can quote front to back. I hope you’re watching somewhere. I hope you can see me and what I’m doing for our people, for the world. For you. I think this will be my last entry in this journal. Hopefully by the time I pass these on, the words won’t be faded or total nonsense. It’s only a matter of time.

May we meet again.

Octavia kom Linckru.

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