#but i think we should fully lean into it. it records the sound a husk makes when falling bc its funny

[cherubytes]

i love it when people write v1 recording stuff around it for it to use later on, either to speak or make a point. its so fun. give that robot starling behaviour

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (10/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9]

The play wasn't horrible by any stretch of the imagination. It was the most fun Clarke had had in a long time. She laughed so hard at parts that tears sprung to her eyes and her cheeks started to hurt by the end of it. The 1920s décor and costumes were stunning, the performances captivating, and the story the perfect balance between humor and social commentary. Even Lexa, who already knew the jokes and twists, still laughed loudly.

Clarke took as much joy from the sound as she did the play. When the curtain fell for the last time and the lights fully came on, she looked over at Lexa and found herself captivated. Lexa was still clapping for her cousin’s success, her face beaming with pride, and Clarke couldn’t really explain why it made her adore this woman so much more.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked her.

Clarke nodded mutely, unsure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She let Lexa take her hand and lead her out of the theater, where the crowd spilled out of the great glass doors.

Cocoa Street was the longest street in Costial, cutting through the city in a curving fashion. Clarke's favorite part was the food trucks; rows of them on both sides with their own specialties and flair. You could very well order duck à l'orange with mashed pumpkin at one truck and a burger with fries at the next one. The Italian ice cream truck was between the rival crab cake trucks and the Noodle Brothers were right next to the Pizza Sisters. There were lines wherever you went, sometimes even street performers to soften the blow of the waiting time. It was absurd and it was wonderful.

They ate Chicago-style hot dogs and curly fries, slowly walking down the street as they laughed about the play. Lincoln had relied on alternate history to weave the visions into his tale, using them for comedic effect in the more dramatic beats. A secondary character had one in the middle of a monologue, suddenly passing out while a crowd rushed over to him. The visions were reenacted with tricks of light and masked characters, reminiscent of interpretive dances.

"Okay, I have to ask," Clarke brought up while they meandered down the street. "The castle on the hill - that's the Polis Hotel, right?"

Lexa nodded. "Lincoln has a complicated relationship with his heritage, to say the least. He's keenly aware growing up in a luxury hotel was a great privilege, but it also messed with his head. He basically shared a home with thousands of strangers for eighteen years."

"I'd always admired Polis from afar, but I can't imagine growing up there. Don't get me wrong, that was one hell of a party, but-"

"It's not a place for a kid," Lexa finished, in agreement.  

Clarke ate the last bite of her chocolate waffle and threw the paper in the trash. “You must be pretty familiar with it.”

Lexa glanced at her and smiled. "The cat and I go back."

"Right. That night was a bit intense, even for you."

Lexa let out a laugh, looking away with a hum. "You know, you make me sound quite strange."

Clarke bumped her shoulder. "You pinned me against the staircase - you are strange."

"I didn't… pin you," Lexa replied with a huff. "I was drunk, high off an excellent game of poker… and I saw you. And I needed to be close to you."

Clarke stopped them in the street, grateful they'd left the busy part. "And the Gazette?"

“What about it?”

"You offered me a side job. Just like that."

"Oh," Lexa remembered. "I genuinely thought you'd be good at it. Still do. Your style would be perfect."

That was surprising, but Clarke wasn't convinced. "It wasn't because of your vision?"

"It was a way to talk to you, yes, but I meant it. I know the visions were… well, the reason for this, that they nudged us together, but I'd noticed you drawing before."

They walked a bit further before Clarke took a small breath. "I, uh, may have looked at the pages in older prints."

Lexa glanced at her. "And?"

"It could be fun. I'm just not sure-" Clarke scrunched her nose. "I'm just so rusty. Art is what I got into college for, but then I took up business classes and… I don't know, it just felt so much easier. Don't get me wrong, managing the café kicks my ass every day, but I like the challenges. With drawings, paintings, whatever… it feels like putting your heart on the line each time. And nine times out of ten, your heart ends up getting trampled."

Lexa took her hand to stop her. "I would never suggest you do something that makes you uncomfortable. If it's truly just a hobby to you, a way to pass the time, you should keep it that way."

It wasn't like Clarke hadn't considered it. Drawing, sketching; it came as naturally as breathing. She'd done it since she could hold a pencil and she still did it whenever the world became too loud. It was an escape; a different way of thinking. Her own little world. Illustrating short stories could be a welcome breath of fresh air. A way for her brain to snap away from bills, calls, deliveries, and the hundreds of post-its in her tiny office.

"And for the record," Lexa added as she stepped closer, her voice impossibly soft, "I would very much stand in the way of whoever or whatever would try to trample you."

Clarke grinned, very much aware that, not so long ago, these were not words she could have ever imagined Lexa Woods telling her.  

* * *

As she had the last time, Lexa insisted that she walk Clarke back to her apartment. After a night full of laughs, great food, and Lexa's hand in hers, Clarke still didn't have her fill and so didn't tease Lexa too much for also wanting to enjoy every last second. When they made it to her door, Clarke turned around and leaned against it. Tonight couldn't end here.

"By the way, you were wrong earlier. My vision isn't the reason for this." Clarke waited a beat before playing her last hand: "It's not the vision I thought about that night after the rooftop."

Lexa's mouth parted open and she glanced at Clarke's lips.

"I was going to," Clarke continued, "but it didn't hold a candle to how you made me feel when you grabbed my hand."

Lexa swallowed when Clarke reached for her jacket to tug her closer. "How did I make you feel?"  

Clarke pulled her in until their foreheads touched. "Warm. Dizzy."

"Dizzy on a rooftop? That's a safety hazard."

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you trying to make me laugh?"

"They're not mutually exclusive."

They broke into laughter anyway. Lexa leaned in to kiss her, only to stop just as their lips brushed.

"You never told me about your vision," Lexa pointed out. "Not… not exactly."

Clarke smiled, smug. "Oh you want details, hm?"

"I'm a journalist. A thorough account would be nice, yes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her before crushing their lips together, unbelievably pleased when Lexa moaned and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Shut up, journo," Clarke husked between kisses.

Lexa kissed her with little restraint then, moving until Clarke was pressed against the door. Each one of Lexa's kisses felt like something special; like finally she'd shed her old fears. Clarke didn't even want to think of not being close to Lexa right now. The night couldn't end - not like this. She pulled back and gazed at Lexa, trying to catch her breath.

This close, Clarke could commit to memory every detail of her face. She'd always thought she got a good look at Lexa at the café, even with the counter between them, but it was nothing compared to this. Lexa's lips were full and at their most tempting when slightly parted, betraying her own desire. Her eyes were hooded now, longing, and Clarke had little doubt hers reflected the same want. She threw caution to the wind:

"Come inside?"

Lexa hesitated, visibly torn.

"We don't have to do anything. I have a nice wine we can try. Some of Gus's tartlets left over. We can even sit with the box between us. I just… I don't want tonight to be over yet."

* * *

It was not what she'd had in mind. She swore it. Nevertheless, when Clarke found herself straddling Lexa on her living room couch with the box of tartlets discarded on the floor (the tartlets well finished by then), she couldn't remember why the hell not.

Maybe the air had already been too charged by the time she wiped her thumb over Lexa's lip to catch a crumb there, and maybe Clarke had liked playing with fire, but now she was well on her way to being burned. Lexa's hands palmed her ass while they kissed, but it was the boldest she allowed herself to be and Clarke was quickly reaching her breaking point.

"Touch me," she pleaded between kisses.

Lexa let out a choked moan when Clarke reached for her hand and guided it to her breasts. She paused, looking up. The green in her eyes had darkened, especially in the dim light, and she breathed deeply.

"Clarke…"

"I know, I know, just - something. Anything." Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's. "I feel like a fucking teenager."

Lexa let out a small laugh before kissing her sweetly, slowly. It had the soothing effect she had intended, and before Clarke realized it, Lexa had lied her down on her back. She hovered over her, then looked down at her cleavage and pressed her lips against the exposed skin.

"Is that better?" She asked.

"Close…"

Lexa let out a hum against her skin, pressing another kiss lower. Clarke brushed her fingers in Lexa's thick hair, digging just slightly in her scalp, surprised when Lexa let out a small moan and then froze with wide eyes, like Clarke had just found her secret.

"Oh," Clarke breathed out, her smile widening. She repeated the gesture, pressing her fingers just a bit harder.

Lexa immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them down on each side of Clarke's head.

"Don't do that," she warned her, breathless.

Clarke smirked. "I think I will."

"It was just a reflex," Lexa blushed. "It's been a while."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, happiness bubbling in her chest at how comfortable she felt with Lexa's body slotted between her legs. "Well, I'm very happy to find out whatever draws out those sounds from you."

Lexa seemed to realize just how close they were, locked together with their fingers entwined. And just like the rooftop when she'd suddenly grabbed her hand, her expression changed. Confident. Eager.

She sat back, eyes trailing down Clarke's body before she let go of her hands to touch her thighs.

"You like control, don't you, Clarke?" She asked. She ran her hands up her thighs, caressing them slowly. "But not now."

Clarke nearly lost her breath, not expecting the way Lexa had shifted so quickly from embarrassed to self-assured. She watched as Lexa drank her in, from her bunched up dress to the fast rise and fall of her chest.

"Touch yourself," Lexa told her, and then leaned down to brush her lips against hers. "The way you did after the rooftop."

"Lexa-"

"I want to watch you."

Clarke nodded, her hand trailing down her own body to the bottom of her dress. Lexa watched as she reached beneath the fabric, eager to follow her command. She slid her hand beneath her tights, beneath her underwear, moaning at the relief when she finally touched herself. She knew Lexa could feel her heat; knew they were both reaching a point of no return. It had started when Lexa had kissed her at the start of their date, but Lexa's hands on her ass while they'd kissed had awakened her completely.

Lexa briefly glanced between their bodies, groaning when she saw Clarke's hand moving.

"Is this how you did it?" She asked. "Two fingers?"

Clarke let out an obscene moan, too far gone to care. "Three," she whimpered.

Lexa's jaw clenched, but her control was remarkable. "Did you imagine it on the rooftop? Me inside you against that wall?"

Clarke's eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip. "Yes. Fuck."

She swiped her fingers over her clit, but the angle and her tights restricted most of her movements. She was fairly certain Lexa knew it. Lexa leaned down again, kissing her neck.

"How did I fuck you?" She asked by her ear, one hand reaching up to lightly brush against her breast.

Clarke panted, fighting the unbearable need to penetrate herself. She needed release, and fast, but a part of her was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"You pressed me against the wall," she revealed, burying her face in Lexa's neck. With her free hand, she dug her nails in Lexa's ass, feeling a thrill when Lexa bucked against her. "And then- I… I needed more. I needed you deeper."

"So I turned you around," Lexa guessed, squeezing her nipple over the fabric of her dress.

"I- oh, fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you inside me; how well you'd fill me," Clarke said, her middle finger trembling from the angle, desperate to inch inside herself.

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathed out in the space between her neck and shoulder. Her lips felt like heaven against her skin. Clarke couldn't get enough.

"Clarke," Lexa repeated, raising her head. "Look at me." It was softer then, more of a plea.

Clarke opened her eyes and felt her movements slow down. It was like experiencing déjà-vu, except of course that was impossible. They'd never done this. But she suddenly realized it had all started here. She'd had her vision on this very couch and here she was - not fulfilling it, exactly, but close. Yet what she'd seen and even felt had never been like this. It had been purely physical - an erotic thrill in her otherwise predictable life. But she hadn't felt her heart beating out of her chest. She'd had a sense it was more intimate than what she was used to, but hadn't been able to quite grasp what that meant. She knew now. Their intensity wasn't so much physical as it was emotional.

She felt safe with Lexa. They still had so much to learn about each other, but she felt safe. And Clarke had never realized the importance of it. Lexa had trusted her with her pain and her heart - that wasn't something Clarke took lightly. It was a feeling not even her vision could have conveyed.

"Fuck, wait, wait, stop," she abruptly panted, pulling her hand out of her underwear.

Lexa backed away immediately, but Clarke sat up to stop her from moving off the couch.

"Lexa, I… I want to be with you," she said, as if remembering her vision had suddenly clarified everything. "When you're ready, I want to be with you completely."

"I want that too." Lexa still seemed confused, or maybe surprised Clarke had done the equivalent of dunking ice cold water atop her own head.

“Right. And - this is fun. I-” Clarke’s eyes briefly closed as she bit her lip. “Fuck I really want to get off-”

Lexa smiled.

“-but not like this.” Clarke reached out to cup her cheeks. “Not without you.” She kissed Lexa briefly, barely a brush of lips, and watched as her eyes followed her every move so tenderly. “Not if I don’t get to touch you too.”

"Clarke…"

Clarke shook her head, kissing her way down Lexa's jaw and neck. "Not if I can't see all of you. Can't hear you moan my name." She licked over Lexa's pulse, enjoying the way her hips bucked against her. "Not if I can't taste you while you come undone."

Lexa pulled back and brushed away some of Clarke's wild strands of hair. "Such words… You should be a journalist."

"I hear they have egos."

"Oh yes, terrible."

"I'm glad I found one that's not so bad then."

They smiled at each other, then took a breath.

"Sorry," Clarke sighed. "I feel like I'm the one giving you whiplash now."

"No, it's only fair. If anything I admire your restraint."

Clarke leaned back against the arm of the couch. "Maybe you'll just have to work harder next time."

Lexa smirked. "I can do that." She glanced at her breasts. "At least I made new friends."

Clarke let out a laugh, enamored. "Alright, well, you and my tits can pick up this conversation another time. I need a shower and if you're not gone in two minutes, I'm definitely dragging you in with me."

Lexa hummed in agreement.

After Clarke walked her to the entrance and watched Lexa put on her shoes and jacket, they lingered in the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight," Clarke said. She had never felt like this before - a part of her desperate to find a way for Lexa to stay. A way to prolong the conversation. To ward off the night so that Lexa and her could just live in this moment a while longer. "The play, the food, this… Everything."

She hoped Lexa felt the same.

"Trust me, it was my pleasure," Lexa replied, her face still slightly flushed.

"You've set the bar high."

"You took me to a secret hike. I was just trying to catch up."

At Clarke's smile, Lexa bit her lip and toyed with the button of her jacket. "Anya used to say I reacted to everything with either fight or flight. I didn't prove her wrong when I left for Costial, but I don't want to run away again."

Clarke nodded in understanding.

“It just… creeps up on me sometimes,” Lexa continued. “I could be having the time of my life one second and the next my chest gets tighter and the world gets smaller. Suffocating.” She gave her a resolute look. “When I meant slow, I meant… I just need to be sure that feeling won’t come between us again." She glanced at her lips. "But… It also means that once we do cross that line, I intend to make up for lost time.”

Clarke swallowed, fighting the urge to drag Lexa back inside. "I'm a patient woman."

Lexa smiled. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Mm. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

-

[part eleven]

[jackidy]

If You Let Me: Chapter 1

Rating: T Pairings: Demyx/Zexion, Demyx/Ienzo (Eventual/Slowburn) Characters: Various, Zexion/Ienzo Centric Setting: BBS to KH3, Canon compliant mostly 

Warnings: Canon Character Death (Temporary)

Summary:  “It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.” Only he did. Spending the prelude to adulthood as a nobody, a supposed empty husk of a being was never an option any of them considered, least of all a newly named Zexion who would be living every last one of them.

Note: I’ve been wanting to write this since KH3 came out, finally got round to planning everything after a recent stint in hospital haha. I’ve not written Multi Chapter in a while so lets hope I can keep going with it. 

Chapter One | Next Chapter

---

Year 0

He’s half asleep when the shouting begins, Even shaking him awake with a panicked look on his face and Ienzo doesn’t understand it, not fully, blinking slowly as he attempted to register what was going on. Panic. Shouting. Even holding his arms, a little too tightly with a frantic look in his eyes that does nothing but scare Ienzo. Why was he so scared?

“I need you to hide for me, hide for me and don’t make a sound. Can you do that, Ienzo?” Ienzo doesn’t get chance to respond, Dilan shouting something outside catching Even’s attention, something hissed under his bis breath that’s drowned out by the noise outside before he turns back to Ienzo. His expression softens, hands brushing hair from blue eyes as a kiss is placed against his forehead. “Go on now, go hide.”

The child does as he’s told, ducking under Even’s desk, curling up in the corner. Hands slide over ears as there’s a scream, something thudding against the door. Was Dilan hurt? Shouldn’t they help? He doesn’t understand, why are they hiding when they could help? Even could heal Dilan and then they could find everyone else and leave before whatever attacked Dilan attacked them all too.

He doesn’t want to lose his family. Not again.

The office door doesn’t slam open so much as creak, eerily quiet and somehow more terrifying than if it had slammed, Ienzo clamping his lips together to stop himself from letting out a shuddering breath. Even had told him to be quiet so he would be quiet, he’d looks so serious, so afraid. What was scary enough to make Even scared and Dilan shout?

Where were Aeleus and Braig?

“Where is Ienzo?”

“Not in here, what do you want?”

Static seems to build in his head, setting his brain alight as his heart rate spiked. He knows that voice, the new member of the family who didn’t speak to him much unless he wanted something. The one who told him to ask Ansem for the lab where the bad things always happened.

“Research.”

The pressure on his ears grows as he hears them fight, clamping his eyes closed and counting to ten and then back again in his head, the static almost painful when he feels it. The desk pushes against him as a thud echoes above him, eyes flying open to look above him then to the side as a hand comes into view. Pale, weathered, almost as familiar as his own.

Why wasn’t Even moving?

Hands clamp over his mouth as a whimper leaves his lips, pacing footsteps stopping before coming closer, slowly as if the owner didn’t know he was here and he didn’t, right? He’d behaved, he’d been quiet. Even wasn’t going to be mad with him when he woke up, he stayed quiet like he was supposed to. He’d behaved. He’d been good.

The creak of wood beside him makes him jolt, eyes flicking from the hand to the side of him. The static stops. Everything stops bar the impulse to run, wanting to desperately to move but paralysed as blue meets orange, a tanned face flickering between a lack of surprise to something almost feral and beast like. Lips curve up into a smile, in no way friendly, the need to run growing larger and more desperate as Xehanort leaned forward.

“Found you.”

Ienzo bolts, not making it far before he’s grabbed, a scream ripping from his throat as he’s dragged, over Even’s crumpled form, the grip ever tightening the more he tried to pull away and he knows. He knows he’s not felt fear like this since he lost his parents and now, he was losing them all over again, desperately reaching for Even before being thrown to the floor.

“I really should thank you, if you hadn’t convinced that old fool, we’d never have reached such marvels.”

It was his fault? He’d caused all this? Ienzo looks from Even to Xehanort, another whimper escaping his lips as the tears welled up. It was his fault Even and, most certainly Dilan, were hurt. Were Aeleus and Braig hurt too? What about those two strange boys who kept wandering in and bribing his silence with ice cream? How many people were going to be hurt because he convinced Ansem to build a new lab?

“It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.”

He only sees the glint of light on the keyblade before he succumbs to the darkness.

---

Year 1.

“You need to focus!”

He hates the lessons, Zexion swallowing back a retort as Vexen’s voice cut through his concentration once more, the image of what he was trying to manifest crumbling into nothing, leaving nothing but the dark space of the lab once more. As Even he’d been warmer in voice and spirit, he’d lectured him enough when he’d misbehaved but his voice was never as cold as ice when he did it, never cutting in the way it lacked encouragement.

“I’m trying.” Zexion responded, training the anger out of his voice least he be admonished for expressing emotions as well. We don’t have hearts, we’re not supposed to feel, he’s been told this time and time again yet each one of his mentors has exhibited something close to the human range of emotion. Was it one rule for them and another for him?

Letting out a deep breath he tries again, taking his time as he tries to picture what Vexen wants. A Shadow Heartless. This should be easy, there were thousands of them outside in the city below, Zexion furrowing his brows as he focused on the image, managing to drown out Vexen’s ever helpful criticisms.

It’s then he feels the shift, staring in confusion at the blank space before him before looking up to Vexen who was quiet but not mad. Why wasn’t he mad? He hadn’t don’t as the other had asked, there was no Shadow Heartless, just the blank white floor of an overly white castle.

“Not what I expected but impressive all the same.” Vexen mutters, scribbling something down on the clipboard he held, Ignoring Zexion in favour of recording whatever feat Zexion had apparently performed. Looking down at his hands, Zexion falters, expecting gloves hands but instead finding small black claws.

He hadn’t made the heartless, he’d become it.  

---

The library is the safest space to hide, Zexion has found, heavy book in hand and a secluded corner to hide from the other seven but someone will find him eventually, they always do and, as always, he can only hope its Lexaeus as opposed to Xigbar or Axel, the latter of which continues to look at him like everything was his fault.

Maybe it was, Xehanort had stated as much before he became this husk and now, now someone who wasn’t there joins in the conviction.

The guilt gnaws at him, book abandoned on the floor beside him as he tries to remember the smell of the gardens in spring, when Kairi’s grandmother would bring her to visit whilst she talked with master Ansem. The ever-present rain around the Castle the Never Was fades away, replaced by a gentle breeze and a shadow of the feeling of sunlight on his skin.

Was Kairi okay? He can barely remember her voice now but he remembers the red hair, how she’d pull him round the gardens, telling him about the different flowers how one day they’d go on an adventure today. How she’d make sure to keep him safe from monsters. He’s not sure how she could do that now, since he had become the monster.

“Do you think we could still be friends?” He mumbles to his silent illusion, watching her run amongst the flower beds, picking one or two and always bringing them back to him as their guardian and protector until she’d finished collecting one flower seemingly of every colour and every type. “I think she’ll love them; she always does.” He replies to her mouthed question of if he thinks her Grandma will like her make shift bouquet.

He’s not sure how long he lingers in this illusion of his own memories, all most lost in the sea of flowers and warmth when he smells it. The scene shatters into nothing as fire and ash fill his senses, swallowing thickly and curling up as the smell got ever closer. It hadn’t worked before when he was under a desk, why would it work now?

He’ll be shouted at. He doesn’t want to be shouted at. Tears already pricking at his eyes when the smell of a forest fire becomes too much, he has to become smaller, has to disappear. He needs to hide. He needs to hide. HE NEEDS TO HIDE. His body screams at him to move as the footsteps finally round the bookcase, a click of a tongue and the sound of a hand hitting another body.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the li- Oh shit, are you crying?”

Two bodies press against him, fire on one side and something almost beastly on the other, Saix had joined Axel then, Ienzo finding some comfort in the sudden warmth and pressure but it was still not enough to fully dampen the sudden spike of anxiety. The silence isn’t as tense as he first believed, Zexion slowly calming down to the point he could look at the pair who had joined him only to find Saix glaring at Axel who at least looked sheepish.

“I feel-“ A clearing of the throat interrupts, Axel glaring at Saix before sighing. “I have misplaced anger towards you, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You’re a kid, I don’t see how you could be involved.”

He wasn’t expecting an apology, Zexion looking between the pair again, knowing he was missing something important in the discussion but perhaps not something to ask about. The last time he’d tried to help it had inevitably ended with an abyss for a chest and a spreading darkness. Perhaps this time, this time he doesn’t ask, he doesn’t intervene with his help only to ruin the result later on.

It would be better that way.

---

Safety also came with Lexaeus, Zexion decided, sitting on the stool by the counter as the other prepared food, Zexion easily loosing himself in the smell of the raw ingredients, legs swinging idly as he sat simply watching. Lexaeus doesn’t expect too much from him, doesn’t look at him as if it’s his fault, he treats him almost the same as he did when they were both human.

It’s nice, comforting.

“How have lessons been going?” His deep voice is soothing, Zexion hesitating vocally but his face spills all, a look of distaste and annoyance twisting his features, causing a chuckle from the taller man. “That good, hmm?” He’s teasing, Zexion knows this, but still feels somewhat told off, blowing his hair from his eyes and crossing his arms. It’s childish, he knows but, memory serves, he was only nine regardless of his ability to feel emotions or not.

“I’ve discovered more things on my own, he wants me to do things I don’t really want to.” He receives a hum in response, both in agreement and encouragement to go on, as if genuinely interested in what Zexion had to say about his lessons with Vexen. But would he share these thoughts or keep them to himself? Was it worth the risk?

Apparently so, words spilling from Zexion’s mouth before he could really stop himself. “They’re boring, if not that he tells me to concentrate and then speaks halfway through and ruins my concentration.”

“He says that you mimicked a heartless.”

“Yes, once.” It’s all Vexen wanted him to concentrate on now, it seemed, the blonde growing more frustrated with him when he couldn’t, a blessing in and of itself as it usually meant Zexion would be left alone for a little while until Vexen came back and the rigorous routine of failing to become a replica would start all over again. He should probably practise more without his mentor present, Zexion thinks, knowing things came a bit more naturally when he didn’t feel under observation.

The conversation ends there, the comfortable silence settling back over them again. Zexion has always found it a wonder that someone with such large, strong hands could be so gentle with food, wrinkling his nose at the sting of onions in his sinuses but staying silent otherwise. Maybe he should learn, free up time for Lexaeus whilst also add a task to his schedule that extended beyond lessons with Vexen and the frequent trips to the library.

“I can show you what else I’ve learnt.”

Lexaeus stops working then, turning to the child Nobody with an almost confused yet utterly curious look, raising an eyebrow at the young boy who feels almost giddy for once. He hadn’t shown anyone else this, not even Axel and Saix when they would now occasionally join him to, in Axel’s own words, make sure he grew up with a sense of humour.

He gets no prompt to continue but Zexion does anyway, taking a deep breath before twisting the landscape of the kitchen into something more friendly and familiar. The white floor fades away to stone, the walls swallowed by the landscape of Radiant garden, an autumnal breeze in the air as the sun offered little to no warmth from its rays.

The flower beds have mostly withered away, the sea of colour now replaced with muted browns and greens, the brilliant oranges and yellows of fallen leaves offering the only real splashes of colour in the imagined gardens. What smells, what smells, Zexion racking his mind for anything before landing on spices. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and pepper, warm and hearty, comforting and familiar. The kitchen is no longer the kitchen but the gardens of the old castle they called home.

Sounds. It needs sounds. Zexion furrowing his brow as he concentrated, eyes screwing shut as the sound of water trickled in, accompanied by bird song and the sound of the town below. It’s perfect, his breaths coming a little harder from exertion as he looks to Lexaeus for a reaction, hoping for happiness only to receive concern.

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice is quiet, insecure, mind running a mile a minute as he tried to go over what he did to cause such a reaction only to snap out of his thoughts as a hand comes down on his shoulder, gentle yet firm, grounding him as he nearly sent himself spiralling into another downward trajectory of ill thoughts.

Lexaeus offers a smile, small but still there, not as warm as it used to be but Zexion was growing used to the changes in his other apprentices now. “No, it’s beautiful.” There’s something else there, something the giant wants to add on but is seemingly fighting with himself over admitting before sighing, inhaling sharply and seeming to regain his apparently fleeting confidence in his words. “Let’s keep this a secret for now.”

“A secret?”

“Yes, a secret for just us.” He doesn’t fully understand the need for secrecy, biting his lower lip as he thinks for a moment before nodding, wondering if it was a touch more serious than he first thought as Lexaeus relaxes, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Taking a deep breath, Zexion lets the illusion of Radiant garden fade away, the grey blue sky replaced by stark white, metallic walls as the patchwork of stone dissolves into nothing. There are no more birds, or breeze, the warm smells of autumn fading away into the smells of whatever dish Lexaeus was making this evening.

He could keep a secret. Axel and Saix had a secret, Xemnas also had secrets. What was another secret after all that?

[evelynns-sugar-bby]

clarke and lexa meet on a first date type dating programme and the country goes crazy for clexa.

Clarke is nervous.Never in her life has she done something like this before. Sure she’sconfident, and doesn’t mind drawing attention to herself on occasion, but thisis different… this is for TV. For the whole world to watch.

Well, honestly, it’stoo late for that now.

She stops walking tocatch her breath, the nerves getting the better of her. She turns to look atherself in the window of the shop next to her; it’s closed so the darkness ofthe inside helps her see her reflection better.

Her red dress is formfitting but modest as it falls just above her knees, outlining the curves ofher hips nicely; even her chest – though fully covered by the fabric – isaccentuated slightly. Newly bought for the purpose of this date, she’s veryhappy she was able to find something like this in time. Granted she did haveroughly 2 months’ notice to find something… her inability to find a good enoughoutfit is behind her now. She looks great, aside from the nerves she feelsgreat, and she’s ready.

Smoothing out the alreadyperfect fabric, she lets out a confident sigh straightens her shoulders, andcontinues walking.

“It’s just a firstdate, Clarke.” She whispers to herself. “Just a blind date. Don’t think aboutthe hidden cameras, and you should be fine.”

When Clarke decided tosign up for First Dates (America), she’s not going to lie she was a bottle ofwine deep, going on her second. She was fresh off of another breakup, her 4th one in five years. She was sad,and lonely, and fed up with her significant other’s not planning on stickingaround.

She is looking forsomething long-term, something serious; and apparently wine drunk Clarkethought her best option was to send an application in to a dating show. Andwell… she’s about to find out if wine drunk Clarke was right.

She nearly stopsbreathing when the restaurant comes into view. The iconic ‘Polis’ is a quaint little place, intimate, well known but notnecessarily a hot commodity unless you’re on a date. It’s a date restaurant,not officially, but the overall theme is amorous to say the least.

She made the mistake ofcoming here with her friend Raven when it first opened. It’s something theystill joke about to this day. “Hey remember when we went on that date?”

With another, lessconfident but still convincing, sigh she opens the door and walks towards thehostess table. The lighting is a dark, but comfortable enough to see people,there is piano music playing in the background and everyone is dressed up innothing less than suits and dresses.

She feels like herblack heels echo loudly on the sleek hardwood floor, but they don’t. She looksaround, trying to find the cameras but can’t, noting that they’re very well hidden.

“Can I help you?” Thehostess smiles brightly at her and Clarke offers a polite smile in return.

“Hi, my names ClarkeGriffin. I uh…I’m here with First Dates.”

“Hello Ms. Griffin,you’re the first one here. Please go ahead and have a seat at the bar while youwait.” The hostess gestures to her left and Clarke gives a faint, “thank you” As she walks off to a barstool. She places her purse down on the bar and heaves a sigh as she falls intothe seat.

“Nervous?” Thebartender asks, and Clarke startles slightly. She straightens up and eyes theman in front of her.

“Just a little. Can youtell?”

“Just a little.” Heteases. “Can I get you something to drink? Something to calm the nerves maybe?”

“Whatever your housewine is please.” He gives her an affirming nod and taps the bar as he leaves tograb her wine. She looks around her, taking in her surroundings. The restaurantis small; it has stone accents on the walls with red and black light fixtures.The bar is black with a granite top, and the tables are covered in red clothes.It’s dark inside but beautiful, a perfect date place just like she remembers.

The bartender smiles ather as he sets down her – rather large – glass of wine. ‘Bless this man.’ She thinks to herself. She’s just about to openher mouth to say thank you when a throat is clearing behind her. She turnssuddenly and is taken away by the beautiful woman before her. The girl isbrunette and has long wavy hair that falls over her right shoulder. She’swearing a tailored black suit jacket over a crisp white shirt with the top fewbuttons undone. Clarke can’t help but linger a bit on the sharp collar bonesthat peek out. Her black pants hug her legs nicely, and are accentuated by herred heels.

‘Just a spice of femininity’ Clarke notes, and she likes it.

“Hi?” The girl says inquestion. Her voice is soft and sweet, a little shaky from the nerves.

“Yes, hi.” Clarkeresponds with a smile, standing from her seat to greet her date properly. “I’mClarke.” She reaches her hand forward to shake.

“Lexa.” Her dateresponds and takes her hand. Her handshake is firm and commanding, but her skinis soft and smooth. “You look… wow. You’re absolutely stunning.” Lexa says asshe takes a step back to assess her date, and Clarke’s stomach flutters withbutterflies. “Beautiful…Sorry I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’mjust-wow.” Her words rush out of her mouth as her eyes flutter up to Clarke’sand the blonde chuckles at her awed expression, her mouth slightly agape.

“You’re not making meuncomfortable. I’m flattered to receive that kind of compliment from someone asgorgeous as you.” Lexa’s face lights up in a smile, her eyes shining under thedim lighting, and right then Clarke makes it her goal to see that smile as muchas she can throughout the night.

“Can I get yousomething?” The bartender asks, drawing the two’s attention away from eachother. He smiles as his eyes bounce back and forth between the dates that areclearly in awe of each other.

“I’ll have… uh crownroyal and cherry coke.”

“Whiskey kind of girl?”Clarke remarks and Lexa nods in response.

“It runs in thefamily.” She offers her thanks as the bartender sets her drink down, and then tipsit in cheers towards her date.

“Excuse me?” The twoturn to address the hostess. “If you’ll follow me I’ll go ahead and take you toyour table.” Lexa takes a step back and gestures her arm out, letting Clarke gofirst. A true gentlewoman. They come to a table in the middle of the room,nearly alone as the nearest couple is a diagonal table away. She is pleasantlysurprised when Lexa is pulling her chair out for her. She smiles at her dateand gives her thanks.

“Your server will beright with you.” The hostess says as Lexa takes a seat and leaves them in theirown little bubble.

“This is a pretty niceplace.” Lexa remarks as she settles further into her seat, her body slightlyleaning forward towards her date.

“It’s beautiful, thefood is amazing too.” Clarke adds, looking around the restaurant before lockingeyes with Lexa.

“You’ve been herebefore?” She asks curiously and Clarke nods in affirmation. “A date, I’massuming?”

“No actually, you’dassume that from the ambiance of this place.” Clarke answers with a chuckle.“It was actually a total accident. My friend and I were looking for a place toeat, and this place just opened up so we decided to try it. Little did we knowthat… this was the theme. Weunknowingly found ourselves on a best friend date.” Clarke laughs lightly,brushing some hair behind her ear. Lexa laughs and the sound is beautiful.

“But best friend datesare the best kind of dates.” Lexa adds with a charming smile.

“You’re not wrong.”Clarke chuckles and takes a sip of her wine. “Do you go on best friend dates,or see your friends, a lot?”

“I try as much as Ican. It can be hard with my work schedule, but we manage to work around it.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a firefighter.”She answers and Clarke brightens, her body straightens in excitement.

“Okay cool, I’m in themedical field too!” She cheers and Lexa smiles at her. “I’m a NursePractitioner.”

“Ow wow,” Lexa huffsand falls back into her seat, her hand coming to rest over her chest. “Smart andbeautiful, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Clarke blushes, “oh stop.” She husks out in a smile.

Lexa answerswith a soft smile. “Tell me Clarke, I’ve been feeling rather different tonight…could you help diagnose my symptoms?”

“I will do my best.”She answers honestly, sitting up a little straighter to play along.

“Well… my heart isbeating really fast, and my palms are kind of sweaty. My stomach is doing thisweird thing where it’s fluttering, almost like I’ve got butterflies.” Lexa’sface is stoic and serious, but her eyes twinkle under the light of the table.Her gaze is soft and sweet and Clarke’s heart melts.

“Sounds to me likeyou’re nervous.” Clarke smirks and rubs the stem of her wine glass.

“Nervous, huh?” Lexanotes rubbing at her neck. “I’d say that’s pretty spot on.”

“Yeah?” Clarke asks andLexa nods in response. “I’m pretty nervous too… Have you ever done anythinglike this before?” She chuckles awkwardly, her skin heating up in a blush.

“What, you meanwillingly going on a recorded blind date that will be broadcasted for the wholeworld to see? Nope can’t say that I have.” Lexa’s smile is humorous as shescratches the side of her temple coyly. “I uh… I didn’t actually sign up forthis. My friend signed me up.”

Clarke breathes in acurious gasp, “Really?” She leans forward in order to focus better on Lexawho’s nodding apologetically at her.

“Yeah I… I went througha pretty rough break up recently, well not recently it was over a year ago,”She adds with a rambling sigh. “I kind of swore off dating, didn’t really seethe appeal anymore. But my friend went behind my back and registered me for theshow.”

Clarke starespassively, not letting her face give way of what she’s feeling. Her stomachdrops slightly, a little hurt that Lexa swore off dating and is only herebecause of her friend. But then again, rather than dropping out Lexa continuedto go through the process… she’s here now and really that’s all that matters.

“What happened? If youdon’t mind me asking?” Lexa shakes her head reassuringly and sits up more inher seat.

“She cheated out me.”She releases a bated breath. “We had been together for four years. For ourthird anniversary, I paid for her and her sister to go on a trip. On that trip she metsomeone, and had been seeing them behind my back for a year. I found messageson her computer and slowly started piecing things together, when I confrontedher with everything I found she didn’t deny it… It was rough to say theleast…”

They fall into a tensesilence, Lexa needing a moment and Clarke letting her have it. She chugs a fewsips of her water, rather than her whiskey, and Clarke fiddles with the rim ofher glass. Clearly it was a difficult thing Lexa had to go through, and Clarkeisn’t going to push her any more than she already has.

With an uplifting sigh,Lexa breathes in to collect herself, “Sorry I don’t want to bring the mooddown, what about you, have you ever done anything like this?”

“Not at all.” Clarkeanswers in a laugh. “I impulsively signed myself up after drinking a bottle ofwine after yet another breakup. My past relationships have never worked out anddrunk me thought a nationally televised dating show would work better for mydating life.”

“And what are soberyou’s thoughts on that?” Lexa asks through a smile.

“I’d say she was prettyspot on so far.” Clarke quips, her eyes softening as she smiles flirtatiouslythen offers a wink. The gaze is heated but it’s full of more than just lust; Itis attraction, and curiousness, and just the want to be around each other.

“You have beautifuleyes.” Lexa’s smile and eyes soften, and Clarke smiles through a groan.

“You beat me to it! Iwas just going to say you have beautiful eyes.”

They both laugh sweetly and he waiter takes thattime to come forward and take their orders, making light conversation with themas he does so. He gives them a smile when he takes their menus and walks away. Thedates continue talking, their conversation simple and fun, and Clarke doesn’t thinkshe’s has this good of a date in… well ever.

She forgets about thecameras, forgets about the employees and the producer who haven’t stoppedsmiling at them the whole time. As cliché as it is, she truly forgets abouteverything else going on in her life, and is enjoying her time with Lexa. She’sbeautiful, she’s confident, she’s funny, dare she say it’s a match made inheaven.

Their food arrives soonerthan she anticipates, and it’s all so perfectly set up Clarke almost doesn’twant to eat it. She looks over at Lexa’s food and sees it is even morebeautifully assembled than hers with grilled peaches surrounding her steak.

“Oh wow, I’m not one topost food pictures on Instagram but… that would be all over my account.” Clarkesays in awe as she watches Lexa pour a wine vinaigrette over it. Lexa smilesdown at her plate while cutting up her food. “Why have you not taken a pictureof that yet?” Clarke feigns shock as she takes a bite of her food.

“I turned my phone off,I can’t.” Lexa says sheepishly, and Clarke’s jaw drops slightly in a smile.

“Did you?” Her voicetilts up at the end of her sentence in surprise.

“Yes.” Lexa answersmatter-of-factly. “Of course I did, this is a date I’m here for you right?”

Clarke doesn’t mean tobut she lets out a whimpered awe, her eyes nearly watering as Lexa eyes herintensely. She sets her elbow on the table and leans her head into her handexasperatedly.

“I don’t want to spendmy time checking this and that.” Lexa mimics scrolling through a phone.

“Lexa, you’re killingme.” She smiles at the table cloth before looking back up at her date. Sherambles slightly, not sure how to find her words.

“It’s going well then?”Lexa asks, taking a sip of her whiskey and coke.

“Def-I mean- W…” Shestumbles, her thoughts swimming too quickly through her brain. She chuckles ather inability to form coherent sentences then takes a deep breath to composeherself. She looks up at Lexa and stares directly into the vibrant green thatlooks back at her with wonder.

“You’re saying all theright things.” Clarke swoons and she never stops for the rest of the date.

\

She’s nervous again…just as nervous as before the date started. The two of them left the restauranthand in hand, and took a taxi back to the studios interview facility. CurrentlyLexa is inside, doing her interview and answering any questions the producershave about the date.

Time seems to dragwhile she waits. It didn’t seem this long when she was being interviewed; shewonders if Lexa felt exactly the same while she waited.

The door creeksslightly and Clarke’s head shoots up to see the assistant beckoning her toenter. With a deep breath she walks in. Her nerves buzz all throughout her bodylike an electric current. She sees the cameras, and Lexa’s back that’s to her,and walks to the open chair to Lexa’s right.

The room is silent,almost awkwardly so as Clarke and Lexa wait for the producers to initiate anytype of conversation. They look at the producers, who watch them intently, thento each other and offer a sweet but slightly awkward smile. The producers aredoing this on purpose, they realize.

“What’d you think?” They finally ask but to no one in particular. Thequiet fills the room for a second before Clarke decides to speak.

“Best date I’ve everhad.” Clarke answers confidently, unconsciously turning her body towardsLexa’s.

“Yeah wh-what she said.Sorry I’m just at a loss of words, I… truly didn’t think it would go this well.No offense to you!” She stutters quickly, eyes darting over to Clarke in aworried smile. Clarke just smiles and places a reassuring hand over Lexa’s andsqueezes. Their hands remain linked as they look back to the producers. Theylook at the duo, then at their hands and smile.

“Would you guys like to see each other again?”

“Absolutely. I’m sayingthis right now; I’m going to marry this woman.” Lexa answers more confidently.Clarke gasps, her jaw dropping in shock and she lets out a surprised squeak.The team behind the camera laughs lightly.

“Clarke what are your thoughts on that?”

“I mean…” She turns tolook at Lexa, her gaze soft and her smile bright. “How could I deny such abeautiful girl?” She tilts her head flirtatiously and Lexa can’t smile bigenough.

\

It’s nearly two monthsbefore their episode airs on TV; Two months of exclusively dating, two monthssince Lexa basically proposed, and one month since Lexa asked Clarke toofficially be her girlfriend.

They walk hand in handdown the busy city streets, making their way towards Raven’s apartment for thewatch party of their episode.

“This is weird.” Lexastates as she dodges a passerby, careful not to bump their shoulders.

“Why is it weird?”Clarke asks curiously.

“The first time I’m meetingyour friends is at a watch party of our first date… that’s weird.”

“It is.” Clarke answersmatter-of-factly and Lexa can’t help but laugh at her blunt response. She pullsLexa along as she turns a corner. “Does that bother you?”

“No, it just makes me morenervous than usual… who’s all going to be there?”

“Raven, obviously sinceit’s her apartment.” Clarke starts, her voice reassuring… she hopes. “Myfriends Octavia and Bellamy, they’re twins. Jasper, Monty and Monty’s boyfriendNate, and Harper. I believe that’s it.” Lexa nods along and they stop in frontof the steps to an apartment building before Clarke ascends. “Oh and my mom.”She adds a little too casually and Lexa stops in her tracks.

“You’re mom?” Lexahisses in a whisper and Clarke just hums in affirmation. “Clarke what the hellwhy didn’t you tell me! I would’ve… I don’t know dressed nicer! It would’vebeen nice to be prepared for something like that!”

Clarke looks back andtakes in her girlfriends outfit; an army green sweater with a black patch oneach shoulder, black skinny jeans rolled at the ankles over brown suede dressboots. She eyes her up and down then quirks an annoyed brow at her girlfriend.

“Lexa you look fine,anything more would be too dressy. This is casual, you look perfect, relax.”Clarke turns back around and Lexa follows her up to the third floor, mumblingunder her breath. When they reach Raven’s door, before entering, Clarke turnsaround and places her hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Are you okay?” Lexachews at her lower lip nervously.

“They’re going to makefun of me aren’t they?” She sighs.

“Probably.” Clarke’sresponse is blunt and Lexa groans, throwing her head back. Clarke just laughsat her girlfriend. “But that means they’ll be making fun of me too babe.”

“I don’t know if thatmakes me feel better or worse.” Lexa grumbles under her breath.

“I promise it’ll befine.” She assures her, not giving her a chance to respond before she’s pushingopen the door. “Hey guys!” Clarke yells as she enters the apartment. There’s ascreech of excitement then the pounding of footsteps, they look up just in timeto see Octavia barreling forward and throwing herself into Clarke’s arms.

“Hey O.” Clarke greetsas she wraps her arms around the girl who hugs her so tight she almost suffocates.She pulls away slightly to introduce the woman next to her. “This is Lexa.”Octavia reaches forward and shakes her hand.

“I’ve heard way toomuch about you.” Octavia answers honestly, but her tone is sweet and smilegenuine. Clarke blushes beside her and Lexa can’t help but chuckle.

“I hope that’s a goodthing.”

A faint call of,“Griffin!” has them moving further into the apartment to greet the otherguests. Only Bellamy, Octavia, Raven and Clarke’s mom are there right now, therest should be arriving shortly. She gets through the introductions, Abbysaving herself for last.

“It’s very nice tofinally meet you.” Abby greets as she firmly shakes Lexa’s hand. She quirks abrow at the assuredness of Lexa’s shake. “You’ve got quite the handshake.” Shepraises.

“Thank you, ma’am.”Lexa answers and Abby scoffs and rolls her eyes to her daughter who justlaughs.

“I appreciate thesentiment, but please don’t call me ma’am.”

“Sorry.” Lexa blushesand pulls her hand away to store it into her front pocket. “Habit.” The snacksare placed on the coffee table in the living room, and more introductions aremade when the rest of the people arrive. It’s fun and comfortable and Lexaquite enjoys herself. They ask what to expect out of the date and the couple ishonest.

“It’s cheesy.” Clarkeanswers.

“And Cliché.” Lexa addsquickly.

“But adorable.”

They take their seats,Clarke and Lexa at the center of the couch with the other sitting around them.Abby sits beside her daughter, and Raven beside Lexa. The rest are scattered onextra chairs surrounding them. The room goes quiet as they watch Clarke walkinto the restaurant and sit at the bar and the screen cuts to Clarke’sinterview.

“My name is Clarke and I’m 25. I’m definitely lookingfor something serious, something long term. As cliché as it may sound I want tofind my soulmate.”

Clarke’s voice echoesout of the screen and the room awes. Clarke blushes and buries her head in herhands

“I’m Lexa, I’m 28 years old.” The screen cuts to Lexa. “I’d definitely say I’m a hopeless romantic. I just want to care aboutsomeone, to spoil them and give them everything I can and more.”

Lexa feels Clarke lacetheir fingers together and squeeze. She looks up and smiles at her beforeturning back to the TV. Lexa leans over and places a soft kiss against Clarke’stemple, who then leans into Lexa’s embrace.

They watch as Lexawalks into the restaurant, giving the hostess her name. When she points in thedirection of Clarke, they watch as Lexa comes to a complete stop, her mouthdropping as she stares at Clarke’s profile.

“I couldn’t walk.”Lexa laughs to the camera as it flashes back to her interview. “I was just stunned, there was no way that,that beautiful woman was my date. I couldn’t believe it.”

Clarke’s jaw drops asshe looks at the girl beside her and Lexa just shrugs. No use trying to avoidit, they’re dating, Clarke knows how she feels.

The episode plays andsurprisingly her friends don’t make fun of them as much as they thought. Exceptat the ending interview.

They watch as Clarkesaunters into the room, looking happy and confident, but little do they knowshe was more nervous than the start of the date.

“What’d you think?”

“Best date I’ve ever had.” Clarke answers confidently, unconsciously turningher body towards Lexa’s.

“Yeah wh-what she said. Sorry I’m just at a loss ofwords, I… truly didn’t think it would go this well. No offense to you!” The room laughs and Clarke copies herself on thescreen by squeezing Lexa’s hand reassuringly.

“Would you guys like to see each other again?”

“Absolutely. I’m saying this right now; I’m going tomarry this woman.” The room letsout a collective gasp before it breaks into chaos.

“You basically proposedon that first date?!” Octavia yells. Raven is up out of her seat justscreaming, and the others voices are drowned out in the constant screamsthroughout the room.

“SHUT UP! It’s not overyet!” Abby yells throughout the room and everybody falls silent. As everyonesits back down, she looks out of the corner of her eye and smiles at the twonext to her.

“Clarke what are your thoughts on that?”

“I mean…How could I deny such a beautiful girl?”

“Oh my god!” Ravenscreams.

“You guys are basicallyengaged!!” Harper yells across the living room at them. Lexa’s phone beginsvibrating excessively in her pocket so ignoring the chaos around her she checksit. Her screen is full of Twitter and Instagram notifications. Curiously, sheopens and sees she’s gained quite a few followers, a lot of people “@-ing” herabout the episode.

“Clarke… is you’rephone blowing up?” Lexa asks curiously as she tilts her screen towards hergirlfriend. Clarke’s brows furrow and she checks her phone.

“Whoa.” She says as shelooks at all the notifications that light up her screen.

“Holy shit you guys aretrending.” Bellamy tells them. “Hashtag Clexa is all over my trending page.”

“What?!” The room yellsbefore everybody is on their phone looking at twitter.

“America loves youguys!” Octavia cheers and she reads all the positive tweets about the show andClarke and Lexa’s date.

“We’re… trending?” Lexastates, but it comes out as a question.

“I mean your date wasdefinitely one of the better ones, but it’s the proposal that did it.” Raventells them as she reads through tweets on her phone. “You guys might want topost a response, you know… cause you’re trending.” She adds as if it’s obvious.

“A response… yeah… yeahsure.” Clarke mumbles distractedly as she continues to read the endless amountof tweets blowing up her phone. She can’t believe this… who knew that a simpledate would make them go viral. With a smile and a deep breath Clarke hands herphone to Octavia to take a picture of the two of them.

Lexa places her rightarm over Clarke’s shoulders, Clarke leans into Lexa placing a hand over herthigh, and Lexa places her left hand over the one that Clarke rests on her leg.Before smiling at the camera they look at each other and Clarke leans in tokiss her girlfriends cheek.

That’s the picture thatthey end up posting.

‘We’re overwhelmed at the amount of love we’vereceived from our episode on First Dates. Yes we’re still together, and no,Lexa hasn’t officially proposed… yet.’

[chiliadicorum]

Two Dead Husks and a Random Mithrandir

A/N: This is my gift for @datcilly for the @tolkiensecretsanta2017! A fic between two friends is what I came up with. Gandalf and Elrond were requested, with some fluff and fun. This kind of turned out with a little less fluff and fun than originally planned, so I hope you don’t mind that too much! But I loved writing this and hope it’ll make you happy if just a little bit! Merry Christmas! :D

(If reading on my blog is difficult, let me know and I’ll give you a link to a better page)

He had been sitting on that stretch of hilltop for at least an hour. Prone as he was to losing himself in his musings, he was not so lacking as others as to lose sense of the passage of time. And even if so, his grey palfrey happily obliged to remind him of the nearing midnight hour, growing more annoying with each persistent nudge to his shoulder with her muzzle. She did it again and Elrond leaned away, glaring up at her.

“I know! I know we must go. Stop reminding me.” He eased his voice to gentleness, too fond of the horse to be too flustered, though he still refused to pet her. Maybe she just wanted an apple. Maybe it was a sign that the living beings in Valinor were softer than those in Middle-earth, because he could swear that their horses and other such endearing creatures were more demanding of treats than in life before. Or maybe he was just being bitter.

“Elrond, Elrond, where has your warmth gone?” The familiar voice came from behind, warm itself and carrying great fondness.

Elrond frowned as he twisted around. “Mithrandir?” he said with a little surprise and in no little confusion. He had not seen him since their disembarking on the bays of Tol Eressëa all those years ago, when the joys of reunion for himself and all those who sailed with him had grown rapturous and the Maia had gone his own way. Elrond stared at the whitened hair and full beard, at his stooping frame and the wise, olden features of his face. His frown deepened. “Why do you yet clad yourself in that form? Say not you cannot leave it.”

He added the last more in jest and Mithrandir chuckled, shifting his robes before lowering himself to hunker down next to him in the ankle-deep snow. “Hardly. But in my true form, even as I appear to you mirroanwi, you would not be speaking with one whom you know, would you?”

Elrond gave a small smile. “Think you I am so shallow?”

Mithrandir’s own smile deepened, reaching up to his bright eyes. “Ah, I have missed you, my friend. And no. But I know from my Ages of dwelling with you Elves before my coming to Middle-earth that it takes some time to adjust, even though it has been years. For all your life, my People were but names recorded in your lore and seeing us in person is quite different, even one whom you saw in likeness of a Man.”

“It has been years.” Elrond glanced suspiciously behind him at his mount, who was now leaving him be and just swishing her tail. “Years since last we spoke, long enough I no longer count the years.”

“Years you deserved to rest in with your Celebrían,” he said warmly. “But come, you did not answer. What do you here all alone? Are you not supposed to be in Lórien?”

“Yes.” Tension he had not even been aware had left at the Maia’s arrival returned swiftly and it was an effort to not let it rise to the surface.

Mithrandir regarded him calmly, his eyes shining in that all too perceptive way Elrond was never sure if he liked or not. “Hm. Yet you are not.”

Elrond glanced at him and resisted a sigh, looking back out to the sight of legend before him. “I had a disagreement with Lord Irmo’s Master Healers.” He could not resist the sarcastic lilt in his voice. Yes, petty, but he was alone, unhappy, sitting in wet snow in the dead of night, so he did not care.

“Oh? Care to share? You know I will listen.”

Elrond lifted an eyebrow at the tone, the small smile reappearing. “You sound as if you already know.”

“Perhaps I do, but I can see it festering in you. You know talking relieves much restlessness, if you want to.”

“No.”

Mithrandir let out that subtle, rumbling chuckle deep in his chest, one so familiar that it sent Elrond off kilter for a moment. “Oh Elrond, so long has it been since I heard you so aggravated.” He looked both amused and endeared at the same time. “I will speak of it no more tonight, save only to lecture you to be of greater cheer. The Merendë Andohrívëo is in three days and your current mood is hardly one of celebration.”

He sighed truly this time, in chagrin and a little tired. “I know. I am returning to Tol Eressëa to spend it with Celebrían. Gil-galad wrote he is planning a few hearty festivities of his own, so I look forward to it.” He squinted off into the distance, contemplative. “I am surprised Lord Irmo allowed me to leave. I was hardly polite and I do not believe he approved of my departure, at least in the way I did it. I know not if I am angrier with him or his healers.”

Mithrandir squeezed his shoulder. “I would say his healers for I know Lord Irmo better than you, but let it go for now, my friend. Take joy in the festival and try to spend it in peace.”

Elrond nodded. “Hence my return to Tol Eressëa.”

“And quite the detour you are taking to see yourself there, if I may say, riding this far northward.” Mithrandir turned to him fully, his expression turning serious, maybe even a little concerned. “Why did you come here? This is hardly a place of celebration, or a place to inspire such.”

Elrond looked back out to Ezellohar, at the two dead husks of gigantic proportions standing coupled together on their mound mantled in white. Even from this distance Elrond could easily discern which one was Telperion, for its shade of color was a little subtler, a little more grey even in death than that of Laurelin’s. No one was here, the vast expanse of snow undisturbed save where he had guided his horse. The snow was falling slow and steady and he knew there was a solid layer of it on his hair by now. His exterior was as cold as the snow he sat unmoving in, his clothing soaked through and his rear growing numb, though whether from the position or the chill he could not tell. The Two Trees alive and dead were visions he could only ever conjure in his imagination. While that was still true for the former, the rottenness and gnarled scarring in their lifeless husks went beyond anything he had envisioned and were hardly a sight to induce any good feeling. Mithrandir was right. This was no pleasant place, even in the peaceful snowfall of winter.

“Elrond?”

He gave a small shake of his head and his voice was soft. “Think not it is something profound, Mithrandir. This is not my first visit to Ezellohar, though it is in winter. I was merely curious, trying to guess at the sight of the Two Trees in all their glory during this particular season. How their Light might shine in the snow, in the snowfall….It is a wondrous sight to imagine.”

Mithrandir regarded him for a long moment, pursing his lips. “Winter did not exist in their lifetime, Elrond,” he pointed out. “You are a master of lore as few others. I should not have to tell you this.”

Elrond smiled fully at his laconic tone, his heart lightening. “I know that,” he drawled. “Elladan and Elrohir asked it when they were only three.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.” The smile remained, turning into one of soft affection. “When they learned that Glorfindel had lived in the Light of the Two Trees, they pestered him for details, as far demanding what it looked like during the winter months. In which Glorfindel then explained that there was no winter, which my boys could not understand, which then led Glorfindel into having to explain just why there was no winter.” He harrumphed. “Fathom clarifying that to two children of only three years. He did his best. I cringed. Erestor laughed. It was a good day.” Warmth spread through him at the memory. “I just recalled it all of the sudden today.”   

Mithrandir’s voice was tender. “You miss your sons.”

Elrond looked away, hands briefly clenching where they were wrapped around his knees. “Of course I do.” He was quiet for several moments and the lance of pain was sharp in his chest. “It feels so long now that I cannot speak. Nor does Celebrían, but I know her heart, the turning of her thoughts. There are times I am furious I did not remain, regardless of how worn I was. Furious with myself I did not drag my children onto that ship with me. All of them.” His chest tightened and it was all he could do to keep it all at bay, just all shoved down and away. “Arwen decided to stay. My boys know nothing but Middle-earth and their love for those lands is great. A love I know, for I would have stayed a while longer if I had not been so weary.” He closed his eyes tight, the swelling in his chest moving up to his throat and he forced in a deep, shaking breath. “It has been so many years.”

“Many ships have yet to come. I am sure Glorfindel will convince them to board one if they are uncertain. Do not despair yet, my friend. Though you picked a fine place to dwell in despair if such was your goal. You always were good at that.”

Elrond found himself grinning in spite of himself and he looked at the other in mild appreciation. He shook his head, trying his best to shake off the melancholy. “You Maiar do not help. I have seen it enough, one of you approaching an Elf or another to tell them of family who is sailing. Whenever I see one I find myself expecting, hoping the message is for my wife and me, only to discover that it is not.” He paused, turning a curious glance on Mithrandir. “Is it always like that? You coming to us Elves?”

He nodded, beard bristling. “When someone is sailing, the Valar will send one of us to bring the good tidings to the Elf’s friends or family, simply to ensure that they may be greeted by someone known to them when they come ashore. To be escorted, if you will, into this new land and people.”

Elrond was nodding, turning his gaze back out to the Two Trees. “A courtesy any host would bestow upon newcomers.”

“Precisely. That it causes such joyous reunions is but a coincidence, you understand.”

He snorted in good humor. “Coincidence, sure.” Mithrandir’s soft laughter warmed him and the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “Is it also a coincidence you bring such tidings to them on days of festivity more often than not, such as the one in three days and others throughout the year?”

“No. Can you name better days for such announcements?” He grinned cheekily, which quickly relaxed into one more sincere. “It gladdens us when we may deliver true means of celebration. We brought word to your sweet lady of your own voyage across the sea during the Merendë Yavanniëo and she mayhap remembers it every year after on the day.”

Elrond looked over in mild surprise, eyes softening as he thought. “She did not say.”

“No matter.” Mithrandir suddenly stood, evidently not bothering to shake off the snow from his attire, instead holding an aged hand out to him. “Rise, Elrond, and return you home. Sitting here alone with only morose thoughts for company and after what happened in Lórien does you no good. The Merendë Andohrívëo is in three days. Go and make merry with those friends and family you do have with you at the moment. If you continue your journey now, you will just make it.”

Elrond grasped the hand and rose, brushing himself down from the clinging snow, though there was none to sweep off his rear seeing as all of it had melted into his leggings. He raised his eyebrows at Mithrandir, a glimmer of amusement brightening his eyes. “Is that why you are here, to shoo me off?” The palfrey clopped forward at a gesture and he made quick work of clearing the dusting of snow from her back. He mounted, adjusting the saddlebags back into balance.

“Well, you were not listening to your friend.” He gestured towards the palfrey and she jerked her head up with a snort, as if in agreement. “I could only encourage her so much before she began to grow annoyed with me.”

Elrond made a face, though he patted at her neck fondly. “She is annoyed easily.”

Mithrandir reached out to fondle her snout as he looked up, his grey gaze solemn. “If you find it within you to hear me, put your quarrel in Lórien behind you for the nonce. Let it not soil what joy you may find this week, dear one.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Elrond grinned. “Celebrían would not let me remain so sour as it is.” He bowed his head. “Farewell, Mithrandir. I hope to see you again. Soon and more frequently, mind you,” he added pointedly.

He chuckled. “And happily so, Child.” He jerked his head eastward past the Trees. “Off you go.”

And he did. With a fond smile and a wave, Elrond clicked his tongue and the horse responded, going slowly at first to descend the slope of the hill.

Mithrandir stood there, snow dancing around him as he watched him go, riding on and on until he was barely visible in the haze of white. He nodded to himself, humming under his breath. And then his form shifted, growing brighter, taller, both younger and older, beautiful of cosmic proportions and eyes of such radiance they eclipsed that of the stars.

He hummed again in consideration. “And perhaps a fellow Maia with news will be visiting you in three days,” he said quietly. A smile creased his ethereal face even as he faded from sight, the scent of apples and mint lingering on the air.

Merendë Andohrívëo: Winter Solstice celebration, lit. “Festival of the Gates of Winter”

Merendë Yavanniëo: “Festival of Yavanna”, taking place in Autumn or in our September

Mirroanwi: incarnates, those “put into flesh” [Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth MR.350]