#azgeda & floukru

[shayera-the-magpie]

Severus Snape: *bitten by a poisonous snake*

Eric Coulter: *shot in the head*

Tris Prior: *shot after evading the death serum*

Wells Jaha: *stabbed in the neck*

Lexa kom Triku: *shot in the stomach*

Lincoln kom Trikru: *shot in the head*

Roan kom Azgeda: *drowns in a fountain*

Luna kom Flokru: *impaled from behind*

Bellamy Blake: *shot in the heart*

Me: Why does this happen to my favorite characters?

[alannacouture]

Obviously not my photo, but some lovely ladies of The 100 from this winter (can’t remember the name of the con)

[vmplvr1977]

Chapter 7 is posted!! Read it here.

Hoping to prove Heda Lexa is weak, Nia sends assassins to kill her mate, Clarke. Heartbroken by her loss, Lexa pours all of her focus into leading the Coalition. But, eventually, she meets Costia who teaches her to love again.

Meanwhile, Clarke is trapped in an Azgeda black site fighting to get back to her mate. Years later, Clarke finally escapes, only to come home to find Lexa has moved on and taken a new mate. Heartbroken, Clarke decides it is best for Lexa, her friends and family to believe she is dead.

Clarke wanders the world, drowning herself in her sorrows. She eventually lands in Floukru where she meets Luna and her sister, Valentina. With the sisters' help, Clarke's heart heals and she becomes a doctor in the small fishing village.

Years later, Clarke returns home, after learning her father has cancer. It is here that she bumps into Lexa. After an awkward and emotional reunion, Clarke and Lexa struggle with their feelings as it is apparent their bond cannot truly be severed.

No matter how hard they try to deny it, Clarke and Lexa are falling in love again. But is it too late? Can they rekindle a love they believe ended over a decade ago? As the saying goes, it takes as long as it takes.

[she-who-the-river-could-not-hold]

scrosciare [a bellarke ficlet]

scrosciare - the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs [from this prompt list] Clarke-centric, implied Bellarke | setting: season 3 inspired canon divergent, if the plot had simply been a survival story and Arkadia was a settlement just like the others | wc: ~900

The water churning below the cliffs echoed the anxiety that’d taken deep root in Clarke’s body. Crashing violently, upheaving, tumultuous. It was life on Earth personified in her and expressed in the waves below. She watched it in a daze. Hypnotized by the swirling, angry blue below. When Octavia had said the color of it reminded her of Clarke’s eyes, it hadn’t quite felt like a compliment.

She had to keep telling herself that they were doing the right thing, that Floukru coming to help them was not the destined disaster that Luna so clearly believed it to be.

Maybe she was right.

But the war against Azgeda was impending and Arkadia, while comfortably established as a settlement on the ground now, wasn’t prepared to fight. Trikru was of assistance but they needed more. Reluctant or not, the numbers spoke for themselves and alliances had to be made, no matter the feelings on either side.

A spray of saltwater speckled Clarke’s face as one of the bigger waves crashed against the wall of rock below. As much as she missed the woods surrounding Arkadia, the trees she’d come to covet, she couldn’t deny the pull of the ocean. The ground had always been a mystery, but water was something else entirely. Rain had been startling but welcome. Lakes and rivers a source of resources. But the ocean––she’d never imagined something like this. Angry, powerful. A source all of its own. How Luna and her people had come to connect with it baffled her; it left her intimidated if she was honest. Clarke had felt a lot of fear since reaching the ground, but this seemingly bottomless body of water was unsettling in ways she struggled to describe.

“Don’t fall in,” voiced someone behind her. Teasing, but not.

“I won’t,” she answered Bellamy, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite it all.

He carefully emerged into the corner of her vision and she took the moment to steal a long glance at him. The dampness of the air had flattened his curls down, though they fought valiantly to return to form. Despite his good-hearted warning, she couldn’t miss the grimness etched into the squint of his gaze. The firmness of his jaw, clenched in that sort of way it had been for a while. A detail she never missed. Impending war did that to people. Especially the more his status eclipsed those previously in the command in the armies and his sister continued to pull away.

“Well, you’re standing pretty damn close to the edge. Can’t blame a guy for getting nervous,” he said, eyes finally flicking to her. Catching her in the act of staring.

Clarke quickly looked away. “I imagine some people wouldn’t mind.”

Biting anger, lashing against nothing. Maybe she was the ocean. Did that make Bellamy her rock, her cliff that she raged against?

“Hey,” he said quietly, startling her as he carefully reached out and touched her. He’d been doing that more since he’d admitted his anger to her. Since she’d initiated a hug that still lived in her skin. Maybe he was the waves, leaving imprints behind and shaping her forever. 

“We’re going to get through this. Together,” Bellamy continued. “And we––” (here a deep breath) “––I would definitely mind if you fell in. If you want to see the ocean more, we can come back some day after all of this. Maybe one day there will be trade routes and someone will have to keep relations good between everyone. Maybe there will be towns here again, like it used to be back before the bombs. We can come back then and actually explore it all, but in order for that to happen that means you’re not allowed to fall, or jump, into the ocean.”

It was an image of a future that made tears prick at her eyes. Would she see the ocean differently if they were no longer at war? Could it instead be a source of respite, villages dotting the horizon and people walking alongside the ocean? 

Could it be her and Bellamy… guns and strategy left behind alongside the weight of humanity?

It took a few hurried blinking away of tears to realize that he had gently pulled her further away from the cliff's edge, only then registering that she really had been standing frighteningly close to the soaring cliffside and ocean below.

Bellamy’s hand was warm against her arm, his solid presence a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d needed so soon already. Not long had passed since their recent embrace before going to meet Luna, but she feared she was craving more than before. She’d been introduced to his touch, as well as the ocean in a short span of time. And like the rocks below, knew she’d be forever changed by it.   

“Thank you,” Clarke said quietly, quickly wiping at her eyes as she turned to face Bellamy. When he looked at her curiously, she gave him her own watery smile. “For forgiving me. For all of it, really. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“You needed it, it’s yours. I’ll always give that to you,” he answered, voice rough yet soft. 

They fell into amiable silence, a quiet filled with promise. His hand still lingering on her arm as they turned to both gaze out at the crashing waves, filling the quiet with the suddenly comforting, repetitive churn of the water below. 

Being like the ocean didn’t have to be a bad thing. They’d simply need its resolve so that one day their futures could intertwine again.

[owl127]

Could you write another alpha Clarke and omega Lexa chapter in your fic? I think it would be cool to see their first time together

Read on Ao3

Lexa hated Azgeda. 

A necessary headache, Titus would say, to preserve the Coalition. Lexa understood the logic: Azgeda was the largest northern clan, with thousands of seasoned warriors and an established mining operation and wool production. A useful and important ally.

It didn't change the fact that Lexa despised them.

"Heda," mumbled a short boy serving her wine, her personal server for the night's celebration. Her drink was bitter, and she hid her grimace with another gulp. 

With Azgeda, the Coalition—Lexa's dream—was complete. There would be sleepless nights to argue about treaties and new alliances to form, but tonight, under the heavy and humid skies of Polis summer, Lexa's Coalition celebrated the integration of their last, most stubborn, and one of their most powerful members. 

Fucking Azgeda. 

Lexa stared at Nia and her pitiful entourage. Nia gorged herself on wine and salted meats, berry juices running down her pale chin as she called for her son to bring her more wine. Nia was everything Lexa despised in an alpha: public debauchery, loud threats that other people would have to fill for her; a sickening air of forced superiority, as if the world needed to know about her cock.

Lexa hated her.

"Behave," Anya warned from her side, and Lexa could swear her old mentor was teasing her. 

"I'm not doing anything," Lexa complained into her cup, adjusting her seat on her throne. 

"So you were not about to challenge Nia to some stupid party game simply to publicly humiliate her?" Anya eyed the knife on Lexa's hand, knowing her commander had a penchant for throwing it at parties. Mostly for fun.

"In any case, she'd name a champion. The woman never does anything herself." 

"She's their chosen leader, Heda."

Chosen. An old-fashioned way to select a leader. A true leader had intelligence and strength, like Lexa. A true leader proved their way with a blade. 

Lexa would never name a champion if challenged by that pitiful woman. 

Spirits, how she hated them.

0000000000

When wine was low in cups and laughter was high on cheeks, Lexa knew it was the moment she could escape the celebration. She waited for that moment and not a second longer, with Anya like a shadow behind her as they headed to her tower. The festivities spilled from the central market to the tower, with most ambassadors hosted on the first floor. Lexa refused the requests for liquor and dancing, thanking Floukru's representative and trying not to laugh at Sankru’s joke about Nia's dick, or lack thereof. 

She made her way around the main lobby, aiming to reach her private elevator, but stopped at the sharp sound of a slap. It came from a dark corridor that led to the ambassador's quarters. Anya touched her knife, but Lexa raised a hand. There would be no bloodshed tonight to honor their new Coalition member. Instead, Lexa headed to the corridor, the unmistakable sound of whimpering filling the air.

Nia's hand was red from the slap, and she shook it ungracefully. On her knees, the woman Lexa knew to be the Azgeda general shook her head, a trickle of blood brimming on her cheek. Nia's ring had left it there.

"Don't you ever question me," Nia hissed, inebriated and angry. Her crow was crooked on her pale curls, and she looked like everything Lexa thought of her: a small, scared woman.

"My queen, she's to be your ambassador. You asked me to appoint her, and she deserves respect," the wounded general said, eyes cast down.

Between them, still whimpering, another woman kneeled, tears overflowing from her lowered chin. Her dress was torn, carelessly so, and the omega in Lexa snarled with recognition.

"Is there anything you need, Queen Nia?" Lexa's voice boomed in the corridor, not matching her serene, small smile. Nia startled, her fury melting in surprise. She stood taller, shaking her head. 

"I appreciate your hospitality, Heda, but my general and ambassador were simply lost. If you may direct them," she said with the easy pride of someone used to giving orders, but her speech was slurred and she was not in a position to give orders to Heda Lexa.

Anya growled from the shadows, but Lexa stopped it with a flick of her wrist. "A guard will assign them a room. Have a good night, Queen Nia."

That was as much as a dismissal would be, and Nia slammed her doors once inside, like the pup she was.

The general stood up and helped the distressed omega, exchanging short and sharp words. The omega bowed her head to Lexa and disappeared at the end of the hallway. 

"I appreciate your kindness, Heda Lexa," the general said, as if her cheek wasn't still bleeding, "but please refrain from interviewing in Azgeda's internal politics."

Anya took a full step out of the shadows to threaten the other woman, who lowered her head and continued, "I mean no disrespect. But Nia is a proud leader and will not take kindly to looking weak."

"You talking to your queen doesn't make her look weak." Lexa pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket, extending it between them as a peace offering. "Your queen trying to rape her newly appointed ambassador, on the contrary, does make her look weak."

The general, all hard lines on pale skin marked by scars and weather, looked Lexa up and down before accepting the cloth. She placed it on her cheek, and it slowly turned scarlet. It made her eyes darker in that dim hallway. 

"I appreciate your concern," the general said, tilting her head in half a bow, her voice clipped. 

"I haven't seen you at the festivities," Lexa found herself saying, her mind intent on deciphering the puzzle that seemed to be the Azgeda woman. 

"There are other priorities besides celebration."

A hard worker. Maybe Nia had half a brain to have someone like that at her side. 

"Will the ambassador need any more assistance? Or will you be with her through the night?"

Lexa felt the confused look Anya shot at her back.

The general's eyebrows rose to her hairline, and she shook her head. "The ambassador will be taken care of," she said, her hand covering half her face with a bloody cloth, but Lexa saw the beginning of a smile. "Even if not by me."

Lexa nodded and continued on her way to the elevator. 

Anya's smirk showed her teeth as the doors closed in front of them.

"Oh, shut up," Lexa said in their native tongue.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Maybe you are the one with a vivid imagination."

There might be something good in Azgeda after all.

0000000000

Her name was Clarke. 

Unlike Nia, she acquired her position by personal merit while leading Azgeda's army against invasions from the frozen north.

She was also an unmated alpha, but not like Lexa was paying any attention.

On their month-long visit to Polis, Clarke was the only Azgeda warrior who visited the training grounds every single sunrise. It simply happened that Lexa did the same. And it was because of this coincidence that Lexa found herself able to act on her hatred for Azgeda in her daily combat training with their most revered general. It was almost an even battle.

Clarke's back lifted dust in the training grounds as she fell. She grunted with the effort to roll out of Lexa's wooden spear, jumping to her feet to avoid another blow from the commander's weapon. Her blood mixed with the orange and copper dust as she spit on the ground.

"Again," she asked, and Lexa nodded, her spear fast and accurate.

When they stopped, the sun had risen completely—a new summer morning in the capital of the Coalition. They drank water in silence, with Clarke perched on the training fence while Lexa rested her hips against it. 

"Why do you insist on fighting unarmed?" Lexa voiced the question that had been nagging her since the general had inquired if they could train together.

"It's what I need to develop." Clarke's voice was always low and gravely in the mornings. Not that Lexa talked to her at any other time of the day, but she liked to imagine that voice was for her ears only.

"But you carry a weapon. The Azgeda sling."

Clarke chucked. "Azcaretha. Please don't call it a sling."

"What is it, then?"

"A traditional weapon crafted by Azgeda specialists."

"In the format of a sling," Lexa completed, and Clarke snorted into her cup.

Watching them, Anya squinted her eyes. Lexa was getting very good at ignoring her pointed looks.

Clarke picked up her azcaretha from the side of the training grounds, crossed the dusty arena, leaving her empty cup on a post, and walked back to Lexa. Lexa raised an eyebrow in challenge, and the other woman smirked. Clarke looked at her target, took a deep breath, and raised her left arm in an arch, twisting the soft leather of her weapon in a continuous flow until it spun once, twice, and three times, and a rock Lexa had not even noticed was there flew with surgical precision and hit the metallic cup across the arena. It fell with a loud ring.

For the first time, Lexa saw a side of smug alpha in the general. She was able to control her face with nonchalant approval, but when Clarke smiled triumphantly at Lexa’s silent praise, there was no stopping the heat surging low in her belly. Just a little.

0000000000

The Azgueda entourage had a lightness to them without their queen. Laughter bubbled easier and mead went down faster, scarred faces broken into grins around their blonde circle.

Polis welcomed the start of the fall harvest with a festival, which coincided with the Azgeda general's last days in Polis. Lexa would miss their morning training, though she would never admit that. She saw the general put her hand around the Azgeda ambassador's shoulders, the two of them a perfect pair of scars and wheat hair, and whatever she felt about it, it wasn't good. Lexa would not admit to that either. 

"Heda." 

Lexa straightened her shoulders and took another sip of her mulled wine. It tasted sharp and sweet, with a touch of spice that overwhelmed her tongue. It came from Azgeda, and she wondered if everything from there tasted sweet. And that was another thought for the secret box. "What, Anya?" Her own general stared at the Azgeda group with a tilt to her chin that Lexa immediately disliked. 

"It’s the Azgeda general’s last night in Polis," Anya said casually, in a way she didn’t say anything. Anya was not casual; she was purposeful and direct.

"Speak your mind." Lexa took another sip from her cup. Sweet, sweet Azgeda wine.

"You won’t see her again. It won’t be a problem for the coalition."

"Spirits, Anya, what are you—"

"Spend the night with her." Anya shrugged at Lexa’s frown. "It will do you good."

Clarke chose that moment to turn and find Lexa’s eyes, waving from the other side of the Polis Tower room. The candles made her eyes flash darker, giving Lexa a steely focus. Lexa’s cheeks warmed, and she hoped it was the Azgeda wine and not the Azgeda alpha. 

"Do you approve of her?" Lexa challenged, aware of Anya’s overprotectiveness. 

"I said spend the night with her, not join her under the Spirits," Anya mumbled, crossing her arms. That was as close to an approval as Lexa was ever going to get. What had the general done to convince Anya? 

Lexa rose from her honorable table, nodding to the Floukru Ambassador, who had too much of the mulled wine. She glanced back at Clarke and held her gaze. Clarke raised a pale eyebrow, and Lexa nodded. The way the alpha licked her lips was satisfying. Lexa’s commander emblem itched on her forehead as she excused herself to the kitchens, apparently in search of wine. Anya stopped by the door and didn't follow.

Thin layers of dust covered the caskets in the tower's wine cellar, an underground room accessible by a simple hatch with a single window to the lower gardens. The hatch was left unlocked, and no servant would follow the commander. New, clean casks with Azgeda-burned symbols rested next to the entrance, and Lexa lifted a lid to smell the richness of what was becoming her favorite beverage.

A minute passed, then two. Five. Ten. 

Maybe the general wasn't as sagacious as she had expected, or maybe that wasn’t a good idea at all, because flirting on the training grounds was one thing, but acting on her impulses was another. She should, as Heda—

"Bloody chicken hell!" The exclamation was accompanied by a loud thud in the quiet room, the small garden window shaking in its rusty frame. Lexa, a glass of wine in hand, walked to the lump of a warrior on the ground: a mess of blonde tresses and swears.

"There is a door," Lexa pointed to the hatch above them, her lips curling in unsuppressed amusement.

Clarke dusted herself off and stood up with what was left of her dignity. Her cheeks flushed a beautiful pink, a stark contrast to the scars that painted her face. "I was under the impression you wanted me to be discreet."

"Did you accomplish that?" Lexa raised an eyebrow at the ajar window, music and laughter from the celebration invading the cellar. 

Clarke made a small noise at the back of her throat, the pink in her cheeks turning a shade of burgundy. "Well enough."

"And what do you plan to do now that you're here?" Lexa abandoned her glass on top of a forgotten cask. She took a couple steps further into the room, away from the few candles and the only door. 

Clarke seemed to know an invitation when offered one. 

The cold from the stone room vanished when the Azgeda warrior—fully recovered from her window stunt—stepped into Lexa's personal space, close enough for them to share heat. 

"I have an idea or two," Clarke whispered as she took in Lexa's scent, her nose dangerously close to a pulsing neck. Lexa placed her forearms on the general's shoulders, liking how comfortable they felt there. Clarke leaned in, their hips meeting, sharp Azgeda leather and the commander's sash entwining. Lexa's forefinger followed the line of a long scar, a silver drawing that curled on Clarke's temple and climbed down a pink cheek to meet her chin. Lexa shared a breath with Clarke, who closed her eyes and sighed under Lexa’s touch.

"So at least two?" Lexa challenged, and her stomach filled with butterflies at being lifted, a playful growl leaving Clarke’s lips. 

"That’s a promise." 

Lexa nodded, their noses meeting in a feathery touch. "Show me, then. General." It was whispered with reverence. 

The kiss was not what Lexa expected. Azgeda was hard ice, cold, fierce, and unforgiving. But all she found on Clarke's lips was warmth and softness. Lexa welcomed Clarke closer, her legs spreading to allow more heat, more access, and more Clarke.

And who would know that wine wasn’t the only sweet Azgedian export. 

[ghostcaterwaul]

Overview of My OCs

Putting this under a read more thing because it’s… pretty long even though it’s not even their full bios.

Btw, I'm aware that some of the faceclaims are problematic people, I chose those faceclaims without knowing they were problematic but that's just... How those characters permanently look in my head now so I'm really sorry if some of my faceclaim choices bother people but I'm not likely to change them.

A Chaotic Love (Working Title)

Mallory Blythe A sheltered 18-year-old with a strict religious upbringing. Jeremy’s love interest.

Jeremy Wolfe Typical damaged bad boy with a dark past from the wrong side of town. Mallory’s love interest.

Suburban Secrets (Working Title)

Lieselotte “Lottie” Moon Impulsive and arrogant teenager. “Not like other girls”.

Heloise Moon Lottie’s younger sister. Super smart. In all AP courses.

Devyn and the Roses (Working Title)

Devyn Valentyne Electro-glam punk vocalist and guitarist. Levi’s love interest.

Levi Rose Glam goth Bassist. Devyn’s love interest.

Natalie Rose Goth girl. Keyboards/synths/drum machine. Levi’s sister. Is super possessive of him.

Untitled Occult Detective Series

Elliot Alexander Non-binary punk sci-fi nerd. Saw a UFO when he was 12. Wesley’s significant other.

Wesley Williams Indie emo hipster hacker. Sees dead things. Caffeine addict. Elliot’s boyfriend.

The 100 OCs

Misty Sawyer One of the 100. Arrested for attacking her abusive father. Sweet soft fragile bean. Has Classical-Like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Has AUs for multiple fandoms. (Faceclaim: Katie Jane Garside [in the 90s])

Liam Thorne Misty’s best friend. One of the 100. Arrested for helping her hide after she attacked her father. The therapist friend. Has a Z Nation AU and a Stranger Things AU. (Faceclaim: Landon Liboiron)

Elijah Stone One of the 100. Arrested for vandalism. Rebellious, hyper, a bit chaotic. Has AUs for multiple fandoms. (Faceclaim: Dominic Harrison AKA Yungblud)

Nimue kom Floukru Born Storm kom Azgeda. Was too soft and precious for the Ice Nation. led to join Floukru and changed her name to Nimue as a way of running from her past. Became a healer after joining Floukru. (Faceclaim: Lily Rabe)

Z Nation OCs

Vixen Ran away as a teen before the apocalypse. Did some illegal stuff to survive like selling drugs and firearms with an abusive boyfriend. Also has done survival sex work. She was working as a stripper when the apocalypse hit. (Faceclaim: Kaya Scodelario)

Riot O’Reilly Grew up with an artist for a mom and a biker for a dad. Dad died in a motorcycle accident when they were 5 years old. was the singer in a touring DIY queerpunk band called Rotten Rainbow Warhead Dolls From Planet 420 and was playing a show when the apocalypse hit. Dyes their hair as often as they can with whatever they can find (even if it’s not exactly hair safe, has even used sharpie ink) to maintain a sense of normalcy. (Faceclaim: Bex Taylor-Klaus)

VTM PCs

Izzy Strange A Malkavian glitter punk vocalist with BPD and substance addiction.

Sybil Kross A Malkavian artist with PTSD and abandonment issues. (Faceclaim: Kimberly Freeman)

Multifandom OCs

Jet Gray Goth boy. Videographer. (Faceclaim: Kett Turton [as Clive Webb in Gypsy 83])

Olivia “Olly” Gray Jet’s younger sister. Goth girl. Plays guitar. (Faceclaim: Heather Baron-Gracie)

Leo Anderson A survivor of institutional abuse. drug dealer. Sings and plays guitar. Lives out of his car and often couch surfs. (Faceclaim: Colson Baker AKA Machine Gun Kelly [as Wes in Roadies. If you can find me a faceclaim with that exact hair and MGK's jawline, I might change this faceclaim tbh because I cannot stand MGK now. I've learned too much.])

Emily Walsh Musician. Had to play marriage counselor for her parents from a very young age. (Faceclaim: Tessa Violet [specifically with pink hair])

Other Fandom OCs

Ophelia Power Rangers in Space OC. Purple ranger. Space sorceress born on planet Xoia. Has an otherworldly feline creature from her home planet as a pet named Indigo. (Faceclaim: Sóley Sigurþórs)

Deirdre Doyle The Originals OC. Witch. Lots of trauma. (Faceclaim: Kat Dennings)

Other OCs

Adelaide St. Claire Louisiana Creole trans woman living in New Orleans. Voodoo practitioner. (I’m currently researching everything to do with Voodoo and plan on hiring a sensitivity reader for whichever work I include her in. I promise I won’t fuck it up!)

Astrid Shelley Old lonely widowed witch that lives in the woods on the edge of town. Agoraphobic. Has a familiar, a black vulture named Edgar. (Faceclaim: Anna-Varney Cantodea)

Luca Giger 400 year old vampire. Was sex trafficked at the age of 12, is now voluntarily a full-service sex worker. Was bitten at 20 years old by a client. (Faceclaim: Bartek Borowiec)

Arthur Julius “AJ” Montgomery III Dark academia OC. Artist, writer, musician, stoner. (Faceclaim: Timothee Chalamet)

Stitches the Carnie Ghoul (CW: Horror OC. Proceed with caution) Murderous people-devouring necrophiliac. Keeps some of her victims’ corpses as dolls that she has tea parties with inside her circus tent. (Faceclaim: Peggy Giggles)

Jezebel Bathory A succubus. (Faceclaim: Rose McGowan)

Gwendolyn Lightweaver An angel turned human as a punishment. (Faceclaim: Katherine Shepard AKA Sylvaine)

Ozraphaeus “Ozzy” Embershroud A demon with a pet hellhound named Mordred. (Faceclaim: Ville Valo)

Willa Meadowsong Faerie OC. Seelie court (Faceclaim: Tori Amos)

Gossamer Greywood Faerie OC. Unseelie court. (Faceclaim: Xilmordas)

Alice Hansen An artist, writer and multi-instrumentalist who struggles with undiagnosed mental illnesses and substance abuse. (Faceclaim: Holly Henry)

[float-me-now]

Credits to: @vadersanidala on Twitter

[rhcenyra]

the 100 + ‘my people’

[thelittlefanpire]

The Fight Is All We Are

by thelittlefanpire

The 100 | Luan | Atlantis AU | TROPED

Inspired by the Final Round of Madness 1.0 @troped-fanfic-challenge || Theme: Thriller | Character: Luna kom Floukru | Tropes: Parallel Universe + Doppelgängers

One moment Luna is talking to Raven in Becca’s lab on the island, and the next moment she’s drowning. When she finally comes to, she finds herself submerged in a world that is more ruthless than the one she came from. She will be forced to fight through the icy waters of a dying city if she wants to survive.

[a series of unfinished fics—10/50]

[kilibaggins]

So,

You’re crying over a fictional character again

[vmplvr1977]

Chapter Two of It Takes as Long as It Takes is posted!!

Hoping to prove Heda Lexa is weak, Nia sends assassins to kill her mate, Clarke. Heartbroken by her loss, Lexa pours all of her focus into leading the Coalition. But, eventually, she meets Costia who teaches her to love again.

Meanwhile, Clarke is trapped in an Azgeda black site fighting to get back to her mate. Years later, Clarke finally escapes, only to come home to find Lexa has moved on and taken a new mate. Heartbroken, Clarke decides it is best for Lexa, her friends and family to believe she is dead.

Clarke wanders the world, drowning herself in her sorrows. She eventually lands in Floukru where she meets Luna and her sister, Valentina. With the sisters' help, Clarke's heart heals and she becomes a doctor in the small fishing village.

Years later, Clarke returns home, after learning her father has cancer. It is here that she bumps into Lexa. After an awkward and emotional reunion, Clarke and Lexa struggle with their feelings as it is apparent their bond cannot truly be severed.

No matter how hard they try to deny it, Clarke and Lexa are falling in love again. But is it too late? Can they rekindle a love they believe ended over a decade ago? As the saying goes, it takes as long as it takes.

Read it here.

[kenziecat07]

This is basically how the 100 goes

Spoiler warning in the tags 

[owl127]

Azgeda!Clarke (T)

resurrecting old requests :)

Read on Ao3

It was one of those days where the Coalition meeting brimmed with chaos, a reminder of deeply rooted distrust between clans. Lexa stepped out of the meeting room, where ambassadors still argued in harsh tones and loud voices. On days where escalating insults bordered on violence, Lexa’s hope wavered, but she reminded herself that any sort of heated words were better than civil war. She'd take angry ambassadors over them killing each other's puppies any day.

She nodded at the kind beta who brought her steaming tea, a small reprieve from the battle waiting for her back inside the meeting room. She had barked an order for a short break, the room reeking of alpha and veiled dominance. Lexa had to impose her leadership before things escalated between Floukru and Sangedakru. Another shout rang from the meeting, and Lexa knew Azgeda had entered the argument with the delicacy of a Pauna. 

So much squabbling over the price of salted fish.

The door behind her stretched open, and she had half a mind to wave Titus away, but instead of the submissive presence of her Flamekeeper, another scent enveloped her. 

"Shouldn’t you be inside making sure your ambassadors will not commit murder?" Lexa said sternly, her eyes on her tea. 

The woman behind her pushed back her navy blue hood, her pale scars gleaming silver against her sun-kissed skin."Astrid is a big girl. She can take care of herself."

Lexa did not move other than to look behind her shoulders. "There will be consequences if Azgeda starts a fight."

Unbothered, the intruder took another step, the small chamber behind the meeting room feeling smaller as Lexa breathed her in.

"What kind of consequences?" There was a playful tug to the Azgeda’s smile, teasing, but Lexa did not flinch. 

"Do not take another step if you do not want another mark on that pretty face of yours." 

The smile blossomed into a full grin. 

"You think I’m pretty?"

Green eyes widened slightly at the audacity. A clearing of the throat broke the stare Lexa found herself stuck in, and she turned fully to the door where Titus held it open. The voices from the arguing had died down.

"Heda, the ambassadors are ready to proceed with the meeting," he informed, his eyes avoiding the other presence in the room.

Lexa nodded, noticing how the Azgeda ignored Titus with the same levity as being ignored. 

"Commander." She bowed, and Lexa walked past her, heading back for another round of negotiations. 

"Clarke," she nodded curtly, but Titus' presence had soured the alpha's grin.

It was better that way.

The large meeting room felt hot as Lexa stepped back inside.

000000000

It took another long day of meetings and ordering Titus away from her quarters for Lexa to find herself alone with that scent again. Her fingers rested on an unturned page, and she allowed her shy smile to grow, warming her cheeks. The unfamiliar shrill of nervousness ran down her spine, her belly erupting in expectation.  

The window was carelessly open, with dark curtains fluttering in the wind. Candles burned, forgotten, leaving a hazy scent of flowers to battle the new earthy musk that so uninvitedly affronted Lexa’s nose. 

"I keep forgetting how freaking tall this window is." Clarke, clad in full Azgeda gear, tumbled from the window high in the Polis tower. At the sweaty alpha dusting herself off the floor of her bedroom, Lexa raised one eyebrow. 

"What makes you think you’re welcomed here?"

"The two mean guards at the door who refused to let me in, of course." The big, contagious grin from two days ago had returned. Undeterred, Clarke kicked off her boots and walked to Heda’s bed. 

Lexa watched the confident woman plot unceremoniously next to her, her grin splitting her face in half. Her pale scars danced under the flickering candlelight. When Lexa took her sweet time simply staring at her, the grin turned to the beginning of a frown. 

"Am I not welcome?" Clarke sat on the bed, hands in the air. Her eyebrows knotted in uncertainty, and Lexa finally took pity. 

Lexa reassured her with a warm hand on her cheek. She felt the rigged lines on the tips of her fingers, multiple marks to attest to the warrior’s courage and bravery. A wet tongue met Lexa’s fingers, and she gasped at the touch.

Lexa’s cheeks burned. 

Before Clarke met her in a kiss, Lexa placed a firm hand on her chest. "Don’t pull that again in any other meetings. I do not want to give Titus any more reasons to want your head."

"It was harmless," Clarke defended. Lexa pushed her back again when another kiss was denied. Clarke huffed, her patience never having been a strong virtue.

"No one followed you?" Lexa insisted, clutching at a half-unbuttoned blouse.

"You know I am careful about that." 

"What about the Azgeda ambassador? Won’t she ask about who you’ve been with?"

"I trust Astrid with my life."

"Does she know?" 

"Lexa," Clarke tried, but the omega had turned to stand up from the bed. "We got our scars together. She would never tell."

"The Coalition will be in jeopardy if Nia discovers that her precious general shares my bed," Lexa said mostly to herself, ignoring Clarke's tired sigh. "You will be in danger," she finished with a whisper. 

Lexa had one hand on her chin and the other on her waist, planning different strategies around an irritable Nia to avoid any bloodspill. Clarke approached from behind and, with a little coaxing, wrapped her arms around Lexa so she could rest against her chest. 

"The Coalition is important to me too. I would never risk it," she said to Lexa’s hair, taking a deep breath of Heda. "But more than that, I would never jeopardize us."

Lexa wanted to believe her. She wanted to give herself to the alpha that called to her, to the scent that made her legs tremble and her heart flutter. She wanted to be free and to love Clarke.

So she did.

0000

It was always cold in the Ice Nation. Winter braved their lands earlier and was slow to leave. Close to the coughing fireplace inside the room destined for Heda, Lexa’s bones could not warm up under the unrelenting cold. The open window didn’t help, with the wind bringing bits of snow and invading her warm space. The loud wind and undeniable chill that ran through her spine told her of an upcoming storm. 

The Ice Nation was not welcoming in the least. 

She walked closer to the fire, adjusting the coat that covered most of her frame. One hand rested on the wall while the other, against her better judgment, rested on her lower belly, and she could not suppress a small smile. With her back to the open window, Lexa sighed when quiet feet padded into the bedroom. A smile cracked Lexa’s dry lips when a warm presence approached her from behind.

In the seconds that followed, the warming alpha pheromones that Lexa had expected never reached her nose. Instead, gut-clenching fear invaded her system as someone pushed her roughly against the freezing wall. A fighter held her knee immobilized and her left arm behind her back before Lexa could react. Her mouth opened to call for Anya, who guarded the hallway, but the smooth, chill touch of metal reached her neck, pressing just enough to tickle a line of dark blood. 

"Silence," a voice rasped against her ear, teeth gritting in disgust. 

Lexa cursed herself for not being prepared.

Those damn cold lands. 

The blade sank a breath deeper, and Lexa was ready to shove it back and die fighting, but as soon as it happened, the weight behind her vanished. A heavy grunt followed as the body was thrown haphazardly on the floor, and another alpha, now the familiar scent Lexa expected, jumped on top of the assassin’s body to push her own blade deep into a pulsing neck. Blood gurgled from a parted mouth once and twice until the body under Clarke stopped moving altogether.

Under the fire, the blood shone dark, and Lexa ran a hand over the shallow cut on her own throat. 

"I see you already had company." Clarke failed at her attempt at humor, with her eyes ablaze and her hands trembling. Lexa realized she shared her predicament when the warmth of Clarke's embrace enveloped her. They remained united in the silent room for an undefined moment, the fire suddenly loud as their hearts slowed down. 

A warm hand touched Lexa’s neck, gently, padding at the slow trickle of blood. 

"I’m fine," Lexa said with a peck on Clarke’s lip. "Who was this?" She pointed to the still body on the floor, and Clarke cursed under her breath.

"Doesn’t matter right now." She insisted on the pressure on Lexa’s wound, the blood slowing to a stop. "Are you alright?"

Lexa nodded, one hand resting on top of Clarke’s. "I didn’t come here only for the Coalition." The realization of why she was there came back in a warmth that started in her belly, dissolving the panic that the attempt on her life caused. "I needed to talk to you."

"You need to leave. You and your entourage. You’re not safe here." 

Before what happened that night, Lexa would argue. But the body of an assassin had barely been cold, and she knew she couldn’t find a reason to stay. Clarke’s eyes were dark under the flickering light of the fire, concern etched on every crease of her face. Lexa’s finger followed the scar that started on her eyebrow and outlined her face, dying on the tip of her chin. Clarke shuddered under her touch. 

"I’m sorry, my love, but you need to go." It was painful for Clarke to say that. She turned to kiss the tips of Lexa’s fingers. 

"Anya!" Clarke yelled from the bedroom, and Anya and another Azgeda guard appeared at the door. They both looked at the body on the ground and back at Clarke and Lexa. The guard’s blue eyes widened, and he bolted back to the hallway. 

"Don’t let him escape!" Clarke pointed, and Anya did not need to be told twice. 

Once again alone in the bedroom, Clarke clasped Lexa’s cold hands in hers. "Lexa, you need to go. There will be more." She pointed to the body on the floor with her chin, and Lexa gulped. "Azgeda is not stable right now."

Voices escalated in the hallway, with exalted barks of orders in a mix of trigedasleng and the clipped, guttural Azgeda language.

Clarity shone in Lexa’s eyes. "It's a coup," she breathed. 

Clarke nodded. "That’s why I insisted on you not coming," Clarke said in exasperation, her hands tightening around Lexa’s.

"I needed to talk to you, and letters were not safe," Lexa insisted. 

Quietly, Anya appeared at the door again. A splash of blood stained her cheek, but she did not seem to notice. 

"Heda, we are ready to leave," she said in trigedasleng, and Lexa nodded, but didn’t move. 

"Get my horse ready. I will follow." 

Anya seemed reluctant to leave her alone. She exchanged a small nod with Clarke before running back to the dark hallway. 

"You must follow her," Clarke finally turned around, but Lexa grabbed her hand.

"Clarke." Her voice trembled, and her stomach was in knots at being overwhelmed. She took a deep breath, and under the aggression, she found the calm scent she trusted. Steps reverberated from the corridor, and Clarke pushed them further into the room, her body protecting Lexa from whoever ran down the hall. Lexa’s hand closed on Clarke’s shirt, bringing the alpha’s attention back to her. "Clarke," she pleaded once more.

Clarke huffed a breath, exasperated. "I’m the general of the queen, and I’m leading a coup that might overthrow her, so you better have something very important to say or I—"

"I’m pregnant." 

"—will tie you to that horse, and... what?" 

Clarke’s eyes widened, showing she had understood what Lexa said, and her hands went to her shoulders. "What?" she repeated because there was nothing else she could do. Lexa looked down at her hands, which were still gripped tightly on the coarse material of Clarke’s coat. She couldn’t stare the alpha in the eye. 

"That’s what I needed to tell you," Lexa whispered. Clarke’s eyes searched her face, focusing on the fresh wound on her neck, down to her chest, and finally on her covered abdomen. 

"You sure?" Her voice changed, with a tone of reverence overtaking her earlier despair. Lexa found the courage to look up, finding dark blue eyes again and nodding. Not as far away as Clarke hoped, an explosion sounded in the royal Azgeda complex. A cacophony of voices and shouts cut through the night.

They were running out of time. 

Clarke embraced her lover, pulling her as close as she could, a desperate need to engrave the scent in her mind. When they pulled apart, Lexa did not comment on the coat of wetness on the alpha’s eyes. Clarke drew away with a final nod, a trembling hand over Lexa's covered tummy.

"Name her something soft," Clarke said when she looked up. "Soft but strong."

Lexa swallowed nothing as she nodded. Reluctantly, Clarke stepped back.

A bulking figure stopped at the door. Before Lexa could jump away, the tall man exchanged curt words with Clarke in the harsh way they spoke in their native language. Lexa didn't need to understand the language to understand war.

"You need to go," Clarke repeated with a firm hand on Lexa’s back. "Anya is waiting for you outside." With a single kiss to chapped lips, Lexa left the room where, minutes earlier, she had almost died.

Lexa, Anya, and Gustus made it a few miles away from the Azgeda palace before they heard new explosions. 

00000000000

A fortnight had passed since Lexa made it to Polis. The journey under the storm had made her feel sick, but she wasn’t sure if it was worry or the growing pup inside her. Other clans already knew of the battles happening in the Ice Nation, but no one knew who had emerged victorious. The Coalition had vowed to not intervene, and instead wait for the Azgeda leader, whoever that may be: a rebel general or the ice queen. 

It was late into the night when a knock on her quarters' door woke Lexa from a slumber. She had fallen asleep on her desk, reviewing letters from worried ambassadors. The knock repeated, and Lexa groaned, adjusting her shirt before ordering her guards to open the door. 

"Heda, a messenger has arrived." Noticing the urgency, the guard completed, "A messenger from Azgeda." 

Lexa nodded, stepping outside to make the trip to the main floor of the tower, where she met the messenger. When she arrived, with her sash and coat, she greeted the boy with a nod. Snow was still frozen on the pitiful attempt at a mustache on his red face. He couldn’t have more than fourteen summers, but his warrior scars were long healed. 

"A message for Heda Lexa." He took a respectful bow, even though his legs shook in exhaustion. "For Heda’s hand only," he insisted, a folded piece of paper in his hands. 

Lexa took the paper and ordered her guards, "Find him something warm to eat and a place to rest." 

Before the redheaded boy could leave, he bowed once more to Lexa. "A message, Heda, from King Roan." 

Lexa’s heart fluttered at the news. Her eyes remained calm, and she nodded at the boy. 

King Roan.

Not Queen Nia.

She smiled.

0000000

Winter's deep, cold claws were receding from Polis, and the first flowers bravely emerged from the warming soil. With another treaty season on the horizon, new Council meetings loomed, and ambassadors and their representatives filled Polis with different colors and products. The market was as alive as ever, with pups running around among the new scents. 

Black consumed the sky in the late winter night. Lexa shuffled in bed, sleep a hard commodity as her body adjusted to the changes. The wind agitated the curtains, and there was a quiet grunt as a body rolled from the window without a single ounce of grace.

Lexa smiled into her furs.

"Bloody hell, this tower is so high." The woman inhaled deeply from the ground, her arms spread wide across the wooden floor. "Why do you stay on the top floor again?"

"It’s not the top floor."

Clarke made her way from the floor to the bed, and they both sighed in relief as they met in a long-awaited hug. Lexa melted against the arms around her.

"I missed you," Clarke whispered over the intricate braids, nudging the soft skin behind Lexa’s ear. 

"I wasn’t sure if you would make it. Ambassador." She turned to meet Clarke’s eyes, both their hands resting instinctively over Lexa’s belly. Clarke stared between them in awe. 

"You’ve grown."

"Measure your words." 

"I missed you."

"Please use the door next time."