#clexa snippet

[deviltakesthewaltz]

“I’m glad to see young love is as sweet for you as it was for me.”

Clarke’s grip tightens so abruptly, the glass in her hand cracks ominously. Shit. Loosening it carefully, Clarke swallows around the obstruction in her throat and levels a forced smile she’s sure is far too sharp at the corners on the woman. The old lady stares back, eyes twinkling.

“I wouldn’t say it’s at that stage,” Clarke says; she’s trying so hard to keep her bite out of her voice that it careens the other way instead, airy and breathless. Revolting. It makes her sound exactly like the woman is implying.

The woman chuckles, bringing her glass to her lips and taking a measured sip before lowering it and suggesting, “It will be soon, then. I’m familiar with these things. Lots of grandkids, you know.”

“We’ve only been dating for a few months,” Clarke says dismissively. The liquor burns its way down her throat.

“The older you get, the more you realize time doesn’t matter much.”

Clarke blinks. She looks at the woman, and decides to take a moment to indulge herself.

She imagines how those fragile old bones would snap and splinter under her fists. It would certainly wipe that knowing smile off that withered face.

Clarke has never envisioned herself living particularly long. For most of her life now, when she imagines the future, there’s nothing but blood and ash. Vengeance; anything that comes after is irrelevant, a blurry gray that doesn’t matter. She can’t even imagine herself as an old woman.

It’s something she’s long known isn’t meant for her. A special handful of Others left a lasting impact on the world. Her father was one of them. Going on two decades since his death, Arkadia was remembered fondly, worshiped by the people, plastic stars still strewn through the city, plastered on windows in remembrance. Even Spacewalker was remembered, despite how brief Finn’s run had been; he was still celebrated every year.

For the rest of the Others, they appeared like shooting stars; here to momentarily burn their way through the atmosphere, and then disappear forever, leaving nothing behind but an empty black void.

It takes her a moment to return from her reverie. When she does, she registers the smile on the woman’s wrinkled face, watching her as if Clarke was lost in thought over her supposed love for Alexandria Woodward, Polis’ darling, the most coveted woman among Polis’ top ten bachelorettes, the charity princess who donated so much she single-handedly brought Polis’ homelessness down to zero.

Clarke hates her. And this ancient cunt who thinks she knows everything.

She’s just started to consider all the ways she could kill her and make it look like an accident when a soft hand lands on the small of her back and makes her jump; another hand gently encircles her wrist to keep the wine from sloshing over the rim of her glass. Before Clarke can process anything else, warm, full lips press against her own. Her eyes shut and she leans into it automatically, all the air leaving her lungs.

“I wondered where you disappeared to,” Lexa murmurs as she draws back. Clarke finds herself leaning forward to chase her lips, and the moment she realizes, she blinks and pulls back. Lexa has that typical expression she wears sometimes, both as Alexandria Woodward and the Commander. An face that could almost be considered blank, were it not for the amusement dancing in her grey eyes and hidden in the slightest uptick to one corner of her full lips. She inclines her head toward the old woman in lieu of a glance. “Mind if I steal her away?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, smoothly pulling Clarke towards the dance floor, but the old woman still calls to them, “Enjoy your evening, girls.”

Clarke can tell, by the way Lexa ducks her head, that she’s hiding a smirk. Clarke rolls her eyes as she turns to face her when they reach the center of the dance floor.

“Shut up,” Clarke grumbles, even as she languidly leans into Lexa’s body, stretching her arms around her neck and drawing close enough their chests press together. She can tell by the way Lexa’s tongue darts out to wet her lips that it hasn’t gone unappreciated.

“For the record, I’m definitely not in love with you,” Lexa drawls, staring apathetically at the couple dancing next to them. Of course she’d heard their conversation. Probably from across the room. “I’ve only just approached the threshold of being able to tolerate your presence without trying to kill you.”

Despite herself, Clarke’s lips curl up on one side. “The feeling is mutual, though I’m sure my tolerance isn’t nearly as generous as yours.”

“I surmised as much after you stabbed me.”

Clarke rolls her eyes again, as Lexa spins her. “But did you die? Get over it.”

“I said I’ve managed to stop trying to kill you. I said nothing about not wanting to.”

“Neither did I. I don’t know if I’ve ever spent a moment around you not wanting to kill you.”

Lexa’s next spin curls Clarke into her arms, back pressed to front, where Lexa can murmur into her ear, “Or wanting me in some other capacity.”

Clarke scoffs. “Now who’s the pot calling the kettle black?”

[bottom-lexa]

Above Heaven, Beneath Hell commander's pet au

dark canon au sneak peek for chapter 1

Lexa shed her clothes as she walked through the room; she wasn’t dressed in her Heda gear right now, and within the small distance from the door to the bed, Lexa was completely undressed. She fell back onto the bed with a huff and closed her eyes, it had been an incredibly long and stressful day, Lexa was tired, wound up, and in need of some way to release her anxious energy. She couldn’t stop thinking about Clarke, couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had lunged towards her, couldn’t stop thinking about how her weight felt on top of her body despite the fact that Clarke was attacking her. Or maybe that is why she couldn’t stop thinking about it, the way her fists fell on her face, the way her knuckles bust her lower lip and made her lip. Maybe this was the first time in a very long that Lexa felt something, the first time in god knows how long that someone made her feel something that wasn’t annoyed or irritated. 

Lexa let out a shaky breath as the warm feeling blossomed in her chest again, the same one that she felt when she tasted the blood Clarke had managed to draw. It was…confusing, it was almost like she was aroused by it, by the impact, the violence, the unrestrained fury as Clarke launched herself on top of Lexa. She didn’t understand it, and right now, Lexa didn’t care enough to make sense of it. Right now, all she could see was flashes of Clarke behind her closed eyes, the blonde hair and blue eyes, the rough hands not caressing but groping and seeking and taking, retaliation for Lexa leaving her at the Mountain. 

A moan escaped her lips, letting herself be taken over by the images and feelings in her head. She let her hand wander over her body, open palms caressing and groping her breasts, feeling her breathing pick up as she couldn’t help but envision it being Clarke. Her right hand moved lower while the left played with her nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between her thumb and forehead and putting some pressure on it. Lexa hissed at it, the lower hand now toying between her folds, disgruntled at herself for being wet already – for being wet at the thought of Clarke punishing her for what she did to her back at the Mountain, almost feeling ashamed by it, almost. 

Her middle finger ran over her opening, gathering her wetness before slowly pushing two fingers inside. Lexa bit down on her lower lip as she filled herself, drawing blood from the cut Clarke had placed there, tasting the blood as her fingers curled inside her and her thoughts were taken over by what Clarke might want to do to her right now. Her fingers worked diligently, curling and pumping, and trying to keep her pace slow just a little bit longer. 

Her legs threatened to close as Lexa thrusted her fingers, the cum leaking down her hand as she increased her pace. Lexa grunted with every thrust, pushing herself a little deeper, a little harder, a little rougher than was entirely comfortable – but more pleasurable than she was expecting the night to be. A loud moan found its way out into the empty expanse of the room when Lexa added a third finger, suddenly feeling a stretch she wasn’t prepared for but relished in the fuller feeling regardless. 

It hadn’t been long, but Lexa was already squirming on the bed, eyes tightly closed as expletives and moans spilled out of her. Her legs shook as her fingers drew her closer and closer to the edge, forcing herself to keep them open. She wanted more, needed to be filled, and fucked, and taken as far as she could go – and then wanted to be pushed further. She wanted Clarke, wanted her to properly take her anger out on Lexa, make her pay for what she did to her, because just the thought of that sent another gush of wetness down between her legs. 

Lexa’s body twisted on the furs, the tension coiled deep in the pit of her stomach, threatening to unravel. Her hand moved away from her boob, going instead to her clit while her other hand continued thrusting. Just the touch made her arch her hips into her hands, seeking more and giving herself exactly that as she made tight haphazard circles on the swollen nub, knowing she was only moments away from cumming. 

She came with the other woman’s name on her lips, whispering Clarke over and over again, getting too lost in the pleasure to think about what she was saying. She was quiet enough, no one to hear what she was saying but Lexa was certain the guards posted outside her door heard the moans and grunts – it was nothing new, they had heard more than just that on more than one occasion. 

Lexa’s hands fell away as the orgasm finally passed, her body going slack as her eyes finally opened. Lexa was breathless, feeling a little lighter, and a lot less wound up than she did not even ten minutes ago. Her body was more relaxed, a lot of the tension having dissipated, even if it was just temporarily, and Lexa had just about enough energy left to move herself under the furs she had been laying on before drifting off to sleep – knowing very well that it was going to be yet another difficult day. And maybe it was a good thing that she had gotten this out of her system, she needed to talk to Clarke in the morning, and Lexa needed a clear head to do that. 

[lexa-griffins]

Light

A clexaweek2025 snippet (because they deserve a soft epilogue, exactly a decade after the events of 3x07)

May these words be the first to find your ears The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here Though your eyes will need some time to adjust To the overwhelming light surrounding us - Light, Sleeping At Last

Lexa feels it before it’s fact.

It is not physical. Her body knows too well the setting pain and discomfort of change; there is no sensation of fullness either that alert her of the shift within herself. It is a more primal feeling, a voice unlike those in the flame that echoes inside her head that brings her the news. Something deep within her soul vibrates her entire being, telling her that life grows inside of her, like sunshine bursting through the high windows of the tower and filling her with love from inside out.

Her past lives were not kind; forged in the same blood and violence as she was, their destruction and mistakes are burnt in Lexa’s mind as if done by her own hand. Her own life has been a quest to redeem them, to try and do better, be a better leader, build a brighter future her people can take pride in. Perhaps, what she has accomplished has finally been enough; the destruction brought by her ancestors finally attenuated and she thanks whoever is out there to listen for allowing her such a gift; to create a life after being forced to take so many, for allowing love into her existence where before it has been forbidden; for allowing it to grow and multiply.

She lays close eyed in bed, bare body wrapped in furs and naked limbs when realization sinks in all at once, like the sky crashing down on her all over again. She is slow to open her eyes, afraid that once they are opened the feeling will vanish. She takes in the soft moonlight that paints the room, her hand gently sliding down to her stomach where her lover’s already rests, a silent prayer to god she does not believe in for their latest trip to Arkadia to have worked and allowed them to have what they both yearned for so dearly.

A gasp leaves her, desperately, the heaviness in her lungs like she is breathing for the first time, the tears she had been holding finally making their way down her cheek in a silent cry. The feeling of euphoria over what their future will bring threatening to overtake her in a way she had never experienced before and Lexa finds herself instinctively clutching Clarke’s hand like a lifeline.

At the feeling the sky girl’s eyes snap open, immediately seated and alert, sleep escaping her in an instant. Erratically, her gaze studies the room around her, the peace that thrives between clans for the better part of a decade not enough to erase her war-filled first years on earth as her sporadic nightmares evidenced. 

Another shaky gasp leaves Lexa’s mouth as she tries to compose herself, and she knows the moment Clarke turns to her, sharp eyes softening at the sight of her shaky breaths, that she will interpret her state as distress instead of the happy one she was in.

“Hey. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here.” A gentle thumb wipes away her tears and a smile of reassurance grew in the face that Lexa so adores, bringing a smile to her own features.

She sluggishly stretches her arms in Clarke’s direction, a silent request to be held, allowing herself to be pulled on to her lover’s lap, finding her home in Clarke’s arms and warm chest as she pulls her body impossibly close to hers, a kiss placed on her forehead with such care that it quickly brings renew tears to Lexa’s eyes.

“Lexa, is everything okay?” The words are whispered into Lexa’s hair, concern painting every word and Lexa cannot help but leave a kiss on the exposed collar bone. It still warms her like a blanket, this gentle concern Clarke has for her, the love and worry always present in her every gesture. It had taken time and effort on Lexa’s part to learn to accept it completely and yet, she has never once regretted doing so.

Breathing finally under control, Lexa lifts her head from the warmth of her wife’s neck, leaving another kiss in her wake before her lips find Clarke’s for a whisper of a peck. She takes a moment to study her face, beautiful features coated with sleep and worry yet ever so patiently awaiting for Lexa to speak up about her misgivings.

“I think this is it Clarke.” Lexa whispers so quietly she isn’t quite sure the words ever left her mouth, or instead simply spoken inside her mind. She fears if she says it too loudly, if she dares share her happiness above a whisper someone would try and rip it away from her again, ghosts of a bullet being shot and her own blood coating her fingers crossing her mind.

Confusion paints Clarke’s expression at her words, sleep still fogging her mind, but quickly understanding washes over her like a lightning bolt, blue eyes wide, mouth gaping with a tremble of the lip.

“Are you sure?” A begged question, fear and hope mixed in every syllable as if the world might cruelly trick her into believing they had finally conceived and it being a lie.

A smile bloomed on her face as she nodded because Lexa has never been so certain of anything in her life as she is about this, “Sha niron, I can feel it in my blood.”

Before she knows it, Lexa’s entire body was being assaulted with adoring kisses and worshiping touches. It had been a new feeling when Clarke first kissed her like this, showing her a love beyond Lexa’s imagination; it had felt shameful, misplaced, cries from Lexa about being unworthy of being loved in such a way. Now she relishes in it, loves every second of being loved, every second of loving, sees in it the strength she once believed to be weakness. How could any of this be anything other than strength?

Once Clarke’s lips find the scar that adorns Lexa’s skin right above her stomach, she pauses. It’s a grim reminder of everything she has almost lost and of all the scars she carries, the circular star shaped is the one she wishes the most she could make disappear. She remembers very little of that time, flashing in and out of consciousness during most of it, an entire month of her life gone as she fought for her life. Nine years after the fact, Lexa is still awoken by the violent memory of the gunshot more often than not but she is here, alive, breathing and loving, so eternally grateful for the life she is allowed to continue living, alongside Clarke and the child that will join them.

“What does it feel like?” The wonder and love are ever so present in Clarke’s voice, speaking as if Lexa is otherworldly, a goddess amongst men for doing something as human as carrying their child. 

Lexa has never felt so human as she does right now.

"Like there is light inside of me."

[...]

All it takes is a cry. A cry and her world is sunshine filled. 

For so long Lexa deprived herself of love, living in shadows and dark corners. Love came in the form of small flames of adoration from her people, fragile flames that one simple blow could extinguish the moment she opened the wrong door. 

Clarke had opened a window of love in her life. One Lexa had barricaded with metal and nails, the brief sunlight it once allowed in burning her flesh and made her fear that one more ray would burn her beyond repair. And now it felt like the sun was shining directly in. 

She is radiant; a beacon of light. Magnificent beyond any words Lexa's familiar with. Powerful small lungs push out screams of life, alerting the whole coalition of her mighty arrival. In one swift move, the midwife places the small bundle in her arms and Lexa holds her breath as she takes in her daughter, safely tucked in her arms.

She is light, bright and beautiful, blinding Lexa with love. 

Small wisps of brown curls so identical to her own adorn her head, her rosy cheeks crimson from announcing her grand entrance. Her eyes open ever so slightly to take in her nomon, the loving blue the exact shade of the ones Lexa is already so enamored with.

In her awe with her daughter Lexa forgets the rest of the world around her. Any sound and movement that is not her daughter's, passes her by like it does not exist. Warm lips find her sweaty forehead and the world starts spinning around her once again.

“She’s so beautiful Lexa.” Her wife’s voice brings her back down from the heavens and Lexa wonders how does so much love fit inside a heart that denied it for so long. 

“Ain soncha.” Lexa whispers gently as the small babe screams against her skin, the pinkness of her flesh lost in the redness of Lexa’s own burning skin. 

Beside her, Clarke draws out a shaky breath at Lexa’s first words towards their child and Lexa looks at her with new eyes as she watches the woman who she has loved for a decade now fall in love with the small human Lexa just brought into the world, “Oso soncha, ain niron” 

Clarke nods, now unable to keep the tears held back, her lips finding the still fragile little fingers of their daughter’s hand, “The world is so much brighter with you in it Elaina.” 

[clexa-surrogacy-au]

Little sneak peek of the next chapter of BOL…

//

Lexa’s eyes snap open as she jolts awake to a flash of blinding light, the whole house shaking as thunder crashes in the night and her heart crashes in her chest. She sits up in bed, blankets pooling around her. It’s storming hard outside, rain pelting the roof, tree branches scratching at the window as the wind howls. A glance at the alarm clock shows it’s a quarter past four in the morning.

Lexa calms just seconds later, when soft hands smooth over the skin of her stomach. Then her heart stutters again, as she realizes those hands are on the bare skin of her stomach.

Clarke is clearly half asleep, instinctively reaching out to soothe her. Lexa relaxes, exhaling as she settles back onto the mattress, lifting an arm so Clarke is free to shift closer. She nuzzles her head onto Lexa’s chest, throwing a leg over Lexa’s. The hard swell of her belly presses into the side of Lexa’s, and her hand remains just under the hem of Lexa’s shirt, fingers drifting over skin in a mindless pattern.

Lexa swallows thickly as her eyes flutter closed, arms gentle but snug around Clarke, and absently strokes Clarke’s forearm that’s slung across her waist. There’s an ache, simmering in the pit of her stomach. A type of longing that’s been mostly hibernating for months.

Just the storm, she dismisses in her head. They’ve always had this effect on her. Something about them just wakes her up— literally and figuratively. It’s fine.

She releases a shaky breath and tries to let the sleepy, gentle touches on her hip carry her back to slumber, but it’s not working. She is, unfortunately, wide awake, even long after Clarke’s hand has stilled and she’s slipped into deep, steady breaths barely short of a snore. Another glance at the clock shows Lexa has been lying awake for over forty minutes. She bites back a groan. This is not how she wanted to start the day, but she might as well get on with it, because clearly she’s not going to be falling back asleep anytime soon.

As carefully as possible, she extricates herself from Clarke’s arms—pressing her lips together when Clarke’s hand drags across her stomach, fingers grazing the strip of skin just above the waistband of her sleep shorts—and gently tucking the blanket up around her. Clarke turns in her sleep, curling around Lexa’s pillow. Lexa takes a second to just look at her, at how her hair is lit up white gold when lightning flashes and the light spills in through the window, to illuminate half of the room. Lexa’s stomach turns with the sound of thunder.

You know what? She needs to do the safest thing possible to work off this energy.

Time to hit the gym.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Jumping in on the CI appreciation. The dynamic is just so fun and deceptively beautiful as messed up as they are. You are a great writer and have a unique way of captivating a reader. Kudos and much success however you choose to pursue your talent! Speaking of… have you written or plan on writing that blowout fight scene (post hospital release) where Lexa draws the proverbial line so to say?

CI fight 😈

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

This is the stupidest you've ever felt in your life.

Which is saying a lot, considering the sheer amount of reckless and dumb shit you have done.

But this absolutely takes the cake you decide as your hired nurse wheels you into your lounge room, the sheets already turned back on your couch-turned-makeshift bed and the mountain of your wife's borrowed pillows that are already fluffed to within an inch of their goddamn life.

Your hip kills every time you try to stand on it and your back feels like it'd gone one too many rounds with a baseball bat, and thanks to the four fractured bones in your wrist, you can't even deal with it on your own with the use of a crutch or cane. So instead, you hang on to this fucking stranger and woddle over like a toddler, sweating through all three herculean steps it takes until you can sink down into the godsend that is your new recovery zone.

You wave her off with your good arm once she gets you settled. Tell her you're fine and to stop fucking hovering because you didn't even really need a nurse to move in with you to begin with.

But your wife had insisted and left no room for argument, and well... You're not very good at telling her no when she's upset.

So here the hell you are.

Your grousing is hushed by the sweeter notes of your wife's voice when she comes trailing in behind you with that familiar sharp clicking of her heels.

She apologizes for your lack of manners and tells RN Whats-her-name she can go get settled in the guest room that she'd already showed her - you suppose she must have gotten the grand tour at some point while you were still laid up in the hospital.

Ass out in a gown and perpetually high as a kite.

Not your finest point in life.

Not the lowest either.

At least the drugs made it a good time...

Your temple throbs when your 'guest' excuses herself and snaps the doors shut behind her, making you groan and reach to rub at the bandage taped to the side of your head.

Fingers quicker than yours catch you before you can do any damage.

"Don't," Lexa warns you in a whisper more gently than you had expected, considering she's had to remind you three times already today.

You murmur your sorries and pout because it hurts, but can't help but breathe lighter when she slips into the space between your legs.

Rather than settling in your lap as you'd foolishly hoped for, she perches on the edge of the coffee table instead. She smells so good and her gorgeous face is so serene when she gets comfortable and looks at you dead in the eye.

But then she folds her fingers together and she leans her elbows on her knees, and you already know you're in for some kind of ass chewing.

Fantastic.

She levels you with that 'wife look' she gets. The one that tells you that she means business.

Nobody warned you about that when you'd agreed to this whole 'marriage' thing.

"So," she breathes, only pausing to lick her kissable lips, "Welcome home, Darling."

You snort a laugh through your nose that still hurts where it's swollen but the good drugs kinda help you not care. "Thanks for having me, babe. Nice place you got here," you say in sarcasm-dipped words.

She merely hums and gives you a narrow-eyed grin that feels sexy and distinctly lethal.

"Yes. I've missed you in it. I've missed having you here. With me."

That softens you. Lulls you into a false sense of security.

"I missed you too, baby."

"Good. Then," she says in a quick breath that sounds not unlike ripping off a bandaid. "I wanted you to know that I've taken the liberty of finding a buyer. Well, a few of them, really. All predictably salivating over the collection. But I supposed it'd be appropriate that we talk about the logistics of this before moving forward. I'm open to deferring to your expertise in this field when it came to numbers because, frankly, I'm more than willing to just give the fucking things away. So, we should talk about this."

You smile, because you're an idiot, and you think it's hilarious that she's talking to you like one of her clients. But you also smile because you're a little high off your medicine, and she's really just so pretty, and because not one word of that made any sense.

"What's... 'this'? What're you— Talk about the logistics of what?"

"Selling your cars," she answers with an easy nod, like it absolutely should've been obvious.

The silence that rings through the apartment feels loud in your ears... before you burst out laughing right in her face.

"What?" you choke out and chuckle, because you must've heard that wrong. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said, my love." She reaches out boops the tip of your nose with a patronizingly scrunched smile. "You know I don't like repeating myself."

"That's cute, Lexa," you titter and swipe at the hand that's already so far out of reach.

"Oh I'm not kidding, Clarke."

"Okay. And I'm not selling my cars."

"No, actually, you are."

You scoff and use the shoulder that isn't currently trussed up in a sling to push you hair off your neck so you can see her better. Or... something.

Because all you really see is the calm of her smile. Those eyes that are sharp. Hollow. Unyielding. And if you'd looked beyond the swell of anger that suddenly bursts through your chest, you might've seen the whispered-smoke of terror that hid in their depths.

But you do not.

Instead you focus all of your righteous indignation and stubbornness that burns white hot. You give a derisive laugh, and shake your head, and level her with a cold stare of your own.

Making sure she hears your every word, loud and clear.

"No. The fuck. I am not."

It almost feels like victory when her smile falls away.

"Clarke," she says with a deathly click to your name, "I want those deathtraps gone."

"Lexa—"

"I don't care."

"Lexa—"

"Stop saying my name, because whatever comes after it, I promise you, I do not care."

"Well I don't really fucking care either," you spit just to get a rise out of her, "because I'm not doing it, and I don't give shit what you say, Alexandria."

Her jaw ticks to the side as her eyes flash with hellfire.

She hates that name and you know it but right now you just want her to be every bit as angry as you are.

"Okay," she says so quiet you barely hear her over the hammering of your heart as she pushes on her knees to stand up and hovers over you for a moment.

And you think it's a victory because it feels like a victory...

Until it does not.

Because she just nods.

And keeps nodding.

Just this slow up and down of her head, her eyes empty and her face cold, but not in the way that you fell in love with.

This only fills your chest with dread.

So it's a shock when she straddles your hips, planting one knee on each side and sinks down to sit in your lap. Her weight is comforting after your stay in the hospital, if not a little painful in the way it twinges your fucked up leg. But you don't even let yourself flinch because God you've missed this. You've missed her, and her scent, and the way she practically drapes herself over you.

Your good arm wraps around her waist and digs fingertips into the soft dip of her spine, pulling her flush against you. You soak up the flutter of her lashes at the feel of your breasts pressing against hers; the way she fidgets not to grind down like her body's muscle memory is obviously screaming at her to do.

Instead she stares at you through those dark hooded eyes, now so beautifully filled with emotions that make your heart pound out a more pleasant rhythm than before.

"I love you, Clarke," she says. Whispers.

And your breath catches in your chest.

Same as it does each time she says those words, so fleeting and so rare as they are that they pierce straight through the mushiest parts of your heart. Because you know she loves you. You know it in every single thing she does. But there's just... It's just... Nothing will ever rival these moments when she lets them slip out, so unguarded and vulnerable with you.

And really... that should've been a warning.

"And I love you, pretty girl," you whisper right back instead, grinning as she preens under the praise, so lost in her beautiful face you don't even remember there exists a world beyond her.

You watch her throat dip in a thick swallow, her hands smoothing up the length of your neck. She cups your cheeks as her eyes trace every line of your face... as if she were committing this moment to memory.

She shakes her head. Sadly.

"I adore you," she says again, softer still and with more conviction. "Everything. I adore everything about you, Clarke. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. And I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

When she kisses you then, in that moment, it's possibly the softest, purest thing you have ever known. She kisses you like it's the only thing she needs in this world and you hope she knows it's the same for you. Because her lips pillow and give under every caress of your lips, and her tongue slipping against yours feels like the only home you've ever known. It's one kiss among thousands you've shared. But you know you'll think of this one for years to come, and honestly if fighting gets you loving like this then you should really make a mental note to call her by her birth name more often...

She breaks the kiss with a sigh, and a shuddering breath against your lips.

"I love you. So, so much... I just want you to always remember that."

You barely have time to blink out of your haze when she extracts herself from your arms and your lap and your lips, and stands up on shakey legs.

She lets out a deep breath and smooths her hands along the front herself, rigidly primping herself free of any creases you might've left.

Her chin rises in that regal arch as she looks down at you and nods once again.

"I'll have our lawyer draw up the divorce papers in the morning."

Your hand snaps out when she turns to leave and catches her shirt cuff before you even have time to think, gritting your teeth to try and bite back the sudden shock of pain that slices up your arm and explodes through your shoulder.

"Wait, what the fuck did you just say?" you practically yelp.

Her icy glare drops to the hand that holds her, jaw flexing as she watches how bad you tremble.

"Let go of me."

"Uh, no—"

"If you don't," she cuts in, enunciating with lethal precision, "I'll have to rip my arm away, and that will hurt you more, and I don't want that. Now stop acting like a child, and let go of me."

You grit your teeth and fist her cuff harder through the cold sweat of pain. "I guess you'll have to hurt me then, because I'm not letting go until you repeat what the hell you just said."

"You heard me perfectly well, my love."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Then you'll figure it out tomorrow, won't you."

You let out a strangled sound and collapse back on the couch - both from the pain and the sheer terror ripping through you. "Lexa, what is this? What are you playing at? Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not playing at anything, I'm telling you that I'm not doing this with you ever again, Clarke," she says in her crisp business voice. "The hospitals. The sitting at your bedside. The wondering if you're ever going to be able to paint again. Watching you limp around for weeks, just to turn around and do it again. I'm done."

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. "Oh my god, are serious? It was just an accident—"

"One that could've killed you."

"It wasn't even my fault."

"That's not the point," she nearly growls, all fire and fangs. "This is your third accident in four fucking years. I can't keep doing this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"Waiting around to lose you!"

Your ears ring at the volume of her shout.

You swallow as she takes a moment collect herself.

Feel the lump grow in your throat as she mindlessly fiddles with the diamond on her finger.

You know it's a habit that calms her when she's feeling particularly out of control. A tick she picked up and never seemed to kick somewhere around the third year you were married.

"I trusted you," she starts again, sounding calmer. Less shaken, but still frayed at the edges. "I told how I feel about you. I told you I wouldn't— Couldn't... survive without you."

"So your solution is to divorce me now?" you scoff. "Tell me, how does that makes sense?"

"Because I have loved exactly two people in my life, Clarke... And this way? At least I won't have to bury one of them."

It's like a bucket of goddamn ice water has just been upturned over your head.

You can't help but stare at her, dumbfounded.

Because you are... so fucking stupid.

Your heart twists and it pounds and for a split second you wonder if you're having a heart attack, or if maybe this is what they mean when they talk about broken heart syndrome. Because nothing has ever hurt this bad. Nothing has ever devastated you as much this tidal wave of guilt. Nothing has ever scared you; made you feel this kind of shame so deep in your bones.

And when she drops her hands like she's given up and turns toward the door, you almost feel like you're going to throw up with the way your stomach clenches in a fresh wave of terrified dread. You want nothing more than to pop up and run over to her and explain and just fix this, but your hip and your leg and you just—You just...

You did this.

You did all of this.

"Okay," you damn near yell, sounding distinctly like a wounded animal to your own ears.

She pulls to a stop and snaps back around, "Okay, what?"

"I said... okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll fucking get rid of them," you bite right back again, desperate and annoyed and shaking so badly it's making your shoulder ache.

She stares at you, placid and unmoved.

"All of them?"

You grit your jaw and blow a breath out. "All of them... The dangerous ones at least."

She clicks her tongue and starts to turn away when you yell—

"You have to compromise with me here!"

She wheels back around with thunder in her eyes and a snarl already twisting her lips.

You know you have never needed to talk faster in your life.

"The ones that aren't street legal, they're gone, okay? Nothing that is actually dangerous stays. But I'm not getting rid of the ones that are perfectly safe, and, Lexa, I'm not getting rid of my grandfather's car. It's the only thing I have from my fucked up family that means anything to me, and it's mine, and it's not fair of you to even consider making me get rid of it."

"You hate that fucking thing—"

"I don't hate it, I love that car! That car changed my life! That car got me you."

You watch the rage bleed out of her as she slumps at the shoulders.

She runs a hand through the controlled chaos of her hair.

"That car did not get you me, Clarke," she strains out in a sigh, sounding tired and beautifully frail. "We're married because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I fell in love with you. Because I'm in love with you."

It makes your heart squeeze tight all over again.

"Maybe, but you wanted that car before you ever wanted me—"

"That is not true," she cuts you off in a hush of a whisper.

She stares at you with eyes clouded with devastation and hurt, and for the life of you, you don't know how to fix it.

You never seem to know how to...

The air between you feels frozen for a long moment before she seems to make up her mind about something all at once.

She shakes her head as she crosses the room in quick, elegant strides and drops to her knees right in front of you.

"Listen to me," she says, and tenderly - so tenderly - takes your least injured hand and folds it into her own. "There are so many things I regret about my life. But making that bet, and losing it, are not included. Half of the reason I ever even wanted that car to begin with was because of how attracted to you I was whenever I saw you in it."

Your scoff is loud enough to give your concussion addled brain another headache. "You are such a liar, Lexa."

Your belly swoops when she flits that damn eyebrow up in challenge.

"While I appreciate your assessment of my moral virtues," she practically purrs, "on this, darling, you happen to be wrong... All that windswept blonde hair? The way you looked like you owned everyone and everything in those shaders that you'd so carelessly slip down before pulling away?"

You wonder if you even still have those sunglasses as she bites her lip and lets her eyes run the length of you.

You'll have to check the next time you can walk properly.

Maybe have them make a reappearance at your next brunch date.

Just for old time's sake.

The hand holding yours squeezes gently.

"You were so damn cocky. The way you'd throw that thing in park and hop out. You'd just toss your keys at the doorman like you didn't care about anything. I hated it so much," she laughs with a rueful grin that slips into something entirely more fond. "And yet I could never seem to make myself stop staring at you, darling."

Even after all these years of marriage, the thought of younger her having wanted younger you...

You shift at the throb that weakly pulses between your thighs.

"So... You made the bet because... you thought I was sexy in my car?"

"I made the bet because I thought you were entirely too full of yourself," she corrects, "which I still believe. But I wanted the car because I'd envisioned getting fucked in it more times than I could count."

God you love it when she gets vulgar.

She reaches up and brushes a curl away from your forehead.

"It just took me a little while longer to realize that the person I had been imagining fucking me was - annoyingly - very much you."

You know your smile is kind of dopey right now rather than the teasing slope that you're aiming for, but later when you look back on this moment, you'll definitely blame it on the drugs.

"So our marriage is based off you wanting me to top you in my grandfather's car?"

Her faces pulls up in distaste. "No. It's based off the fact that you are—"

She pauses and exhales something from deep in her chest, her eyes closing under the weight of whatever it is she's feeling as she finally trembles out,

"That you are everything to me."

You really really really kind of hate that you're injured in that moment, because when she opens her eyes they glisten with a lovely wet sheen. And you just want nothing more than to scoop her up and hold her in your arms. Because it's where she belongs. It's where she's always been meant to be...

"You're everything to me too, baby," you say because she is and she should know it, and you really need to remember to say it more often. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lexa, I didn't— I didn't mean to..."

She nods when you can't find the words and kisses the bruised ridge of your knuckles.

Rests her forehead there for a moment as though in prayer.

When she looks at you again she's already pulled herself back together.

That's part of why you love her so much.

Always unbreakable.

Except... when it comes to you.

You have no idea what to do with that knowledge, but you know you'd give up anything just to keep it.

And you love her so much that it makes you smile. It makes you smile, because you just want to see her smile at you again. Always.

"Hey," you say, tossing in a lazy wink because you know she hates it. "You totally had a crush on me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"You had a cuh-ruuuuush on me."

"Clarke. I am married to you—"

"Still," you snort. "Loser."

Her sigh of resignation is so weary it fills your heart close to bursting with how much love you have for this woman.

Because she doesn't fight you on that. Just leans her forehead against yours and nods, kissing your lips soft enough to not make the cut on them bleed again. Her nose brushes against yours in a sweet moment of aching tenderness, and when she pulls back to look at you beneath the fall of her lashes, the whole world is once again nothing but her.

"We'll go through each one together," she says somewhere between a question and a statement.

You nod in agreement, just to be safe.

"Anything remotely questionable, goes."

You heave a sigh but dutifully nod again.

"That means anything without the right mirrors, or proper turning signals. Engines that might blow up for no reason. Anything that was recalled decades ago. Anything with brakes that have a habit of failing... Anything that doesn't have fucking seat belts."

As her list grows you mentally tick off a good two-thirds of your collection.

You glance at her lips and remember how they feel against yours first thing in the morning, and simply nod again.

"Fine. But also? You can't just start threatening divorce every time you want me to do something, you know," you murmur still, because while you're compromising here... you really feel the need to remind her that she's not domesticating you or anything.

She doesn't seem remotely affected by your pout when she just shrugs and grins and leans forward.

You feel distinctly like a puppy on a leash when she pecks a placating kiss to your lips.

And then another to the tip of your nose.

"We'll see."

[eternalreignblog]

This is a cute little smut prompt I wrote a while ago.

[talktomeinclexa]

Death Is Not the End

Summary: Lexa is an Angel of Death tasked with helping the spirits seamlessly move on. Clarke is a doctor who has fought her whole adult life to keep Death at bay, and now she’s the one whose days are numbered. It would suck if those two were to fall in love, wouldn’t it?

***

“Damn it. Time of death: 22:16.”

Clarke throws her gloves onto the floor and lets out a strangled cry of frustration. Her staff gives her a wide berth, well accustomed to her intense reaction every time a patient under her care dies.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Lexa whispers even though she knows the distraught woman can’t hear her. “You did your best.”

Dr. Clarke Griffin, MD, FACS, and Head of the Emergency Department of Arkadia General, has saved more gray cases than Lexa has ever seen another doctor do. She’s excellent at her job and, despite having worked for years in the ER, refuses to bow to Death. She fights for every single patient no matter the state they arrive in.

But Atom Ward wasn’t a gray case. He was brought to the hospital with a barely visible aura and a large gash to his throat that let out blood faster than the IV could replenish it. His time was up, and Clarke had fought a lost battle from the start.

Even he seemed to have accepted it. His spirit severs the connection with his body without Lexa needing to intervene, and he moves on by himself.

Not that Lexa stuck around for him. It has become a habit at this point to hover in the background whenever Clarke deals with a tough case. She’s not the one Lexa is meant to help let go, yet she hopes her invisible presence can alleviate some of Clarke’s pain whenever things don’t go the way she wishes them to.

“I can talk to his family if you want.”

Lexa jerks aside as Wells Jaha, the cardio attending, passes through her to approach Clarke. After decades spent in the narrow corridors and overcrowded rooms of various hospitals, she should be used to mortals moving through her immaterial form. Alas, as with the pungent smell of bleach inseparable from the white walls she often occupies, she has yet to ignore her disgust.

Clarke shakes her head, her brows stubbornly furrowed. She won’t cry. Not in front of her coworkers or when she tells Atom’s parents the worst news of their lives. She will hold it inside until she can find a quiet spot—the stairs or her office—and allow herself to crumble for a minute. Lexa has witnessed the scene a few times. Perhaps that’s why she feels this irrepressible need to shadow Clarke.

“I will do it,” Clarke replies, and Wells doesn’t press the matter.

Lexa is distracted from the scene by the call from an angry spirit one floor below. He doesn’t understand what happened to him and wants to linger. She’s down to her knees through the floor when she senses another Angel of Death’s presence below. They will take care of the issue and help the spirit accept his new reality.

Lexa floats back up into the room. She shouldn’t go with Clarke. There’s no need for her in the waiting area, and the hospital is full of dying people who might require her aid.

“Good luck,” she whispers in Clarke’s direction before freezing.

With the agitation caused by Atom’s arrival and the doctors’ attempts to save him, Lexa was distracted. She was supposed to focus on him. But now that he’s gone, all she can see is Clarke’s fading aura, slowly turning from its usual indigo to a washed-out sky blue.

Lexa has been an Angel of Death for over a millennium. She knows what fading auras mean—they call to her and her fellows. It’s not fair, but then, Death rarely is.

With a heavy heart, she watches as Clarke leaves the room, unaware of how numbered her days are, and sighs. “I will see you soon.”

[macolethings]

Sonraun Rein Kiken Snippet

Apologies to followers of my Clexa story, "Sonraun." I'm about a month away from having a baby and the tiredness of both my brain and body have finally affected the posting of a new chapter. Only two small sections to write before I do my own editing and have it beta checked, so hopefully it will be out within the next few days!

In the mean time, here is a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 7 (untitled so far). It hasn't been edited, but I want to get something out to you all. Pretty sure there is another small trope in here...

- - -  ∞ - - - 

An eight-foot wall and wrought iron gate separated the common grounds of the tower to Lexa’s training grounds. Lexa fished a key from around her neck, unlocking the gate, and allowing them both entrance. Clarke took in her surroundings. The space was mainly grass, most of it having browned with the winter cold. Workout equipment was placed around the perimeter, leaving a large space in the middle for sparring. Clarke could find similarities in the equipment here to that of the ark thanks to her many days trailing her mother while she walked through physical therapy workouts for her patients. There was a bench with weights, bars for pullups, some weights from the old world, and a punching bag. 

“How often do you come here?” Clarke asked.

“It depends on what training I want to do that day. I come here to build my strength a few times a week, spar with Kensie, or to just practice on my own. The other days I like to run, or fight with the gona (warriors) at the training grounds.” 

After taking time to fully take in all the equipment, Lexa started Clarke off with some warmup movements to get “the blood flowing and muscles lose.” Apparently, Lexa’s warmup was an actual workout for the non-athletic types such as herself. While Lexa acted no different than they had after walking down to the space, Clarke was a different story. Her breath was harsh and fast, her body already quite warm, with flushed cheeks to prove it. 

“First, we will go over assorted defensive moves to get out the most common ways someone may try to take you. We will practice each several times, but I want to focus on introducing them all today, and we can move to memorizing next time.” 

Lexa started simple with wrist and arm grabs, explaining to Clarke that the thumb is a weak point and if she turned up towards her attacker’s thumb, they would not be able keep their hold on her. The two went back and forth, Clarke practicing to free herself from Lexa’s hold, and attempting to keep hold of Lexa in different places to view how she handled the different holds. 

Next, Lexa turned Clarke’s attention on what to do if she’s grabbed from behind. Lexa clamped both of Clarke’s arms to her own side with one arm and wrapped the other around her throat. Unfortunately for Clarke, her body was not ready to have Lexa wrapped so closely around her, and was most definitely not ready for Lexa’s whispered instruction on how to remove herself from the precarious situation. Surely, the lower octave whispers Lexa was using weren’t necessary. 

Lexa chucked. “Clarke? Did you hear me?”

She cleared her throat as best she could before muttering a simple “no,” not daring to turn her face towards Lexa when they were this close. 

Fortunately, Lexa separated her body from Clarkes before discussing, again, how to use her opponents’ weak spots to break free or cause enough pain to bring attention to herself and her attacker. It took a few more attempts before Clarke understood the mechanics of the moves, but she blamed that on Lexa and the fogginess that had taken over her mind. Especially since she was sure the Commander was doing it on purpose. 

[dysco-lymonade]

Doing really gay shit today like getting a new softball glove.

Oh and I’m gonna write some smutty shit for y’all later too.

[deviltakesthewaltz]

Scene in chapter 8 of DTTW that I didn't get to include but it totally happened:

Clarke’s eyes narrow as she notices the squirrels literally flying across the road. 

“Um. Are you? Are you moving the squirrels out of the way?”

“They fuck up your car, Clarke.”

“They’re squirrels. Your car fucks them up, they don’t fuck up your car.”

Lexa glances at her, aghast. "You hit them on purpose?”

Clarke makes a noise of outrage. “What? No! I’m not a monster.”

Lexa lapses into a grumpy silence. When another squirrel goes flying through the air, Clarke can't suppress her smirk any longer.

“That is adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“So adorable. Do you think they remember? Do you think they devote their life to you after? The Commander and her army of squirrels.”

“I’m going to crash on purpose.”

“Just don’t hit a squirrel.”

[toolateintheday]

Snippet Sunday (on a Monday)

The fabulous @grenanigans tagged me so here's a very small snippet from the next chapter of False Dichotomy.

//////////

Shadowheart lifts her head from the pillow and with considerable effort, pushes herself into an upright position, propped up against the headboard. Her head feels thick, as though its stuffed with cotton wool and her mouth is dry when she runs her tongue over chapped lips.

It occurs to her that the room is unususlly quiet. She squints past Lae'zel - sees no one.

"Where is everyone?"

"Downstairs having breakfast. I asked them to give us some privacy."

Shadowheart sighs, rubs the heels of her palms into her tired eyes. "I'm flattered, but I'm really not in the mood."

"Not so that we may-" Lae'zel pauses, starts again. "So that I may help you get washed and dressed without an audience."

"I don't need your help," Shadowheart says flatly. "I'm fine. And perfectly capable of-"

"You are not fine. Its been three days now. You smell like a tavern."

"It may have escaped your keen notice but we're in a tavern."

I'll tag the queen of Clexa fanfics @dreamsaremywords

Check out her work, she's awesome.

[lexa-griffins]

Farm clexa and their family are my beloved 🥰 I fall more in love with them after you surprise us with new soft and tender stories of their lives together. I can't stop smiling after your wedding story

It always makes me so happy how much you guys seem to enjoy this little clexa family 🥹

They are such a soft , simpler, and more idealistic (to a degree) clexa and I love that you guys love reading them as much as I lovr sharing little snippets of their life throughout the years 🥰

The way they want their kids to be part of that little piece of them, particularly given that they got married so young and on such a tight budget it makes their wedding feel even more special when they get to share it with their kids and make them a part of it!

[ao3feed-clexafic]

Forever and Ever Clexa

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61222774 by Alyelehyoo Collection of my snippets of Clarke and Lexa. They will be based in the same universe and loosely connected. Clarke and Lexa may not always appear together in every chapter, but they will always be each others' romantic soulmates in this universe. I will update tags if I add more chapters. Words: 667, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The 100 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, Gen Characters: Lexa (The 100), Clarke Griffin, Abby Griffin Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Abby Griffin & Clarke Griffin Additional Tags: Little Clexa, Fluff, AU, Clarke being an adorable little shit, Lexa does not show up yet but is mentioned Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61222774

[johnslittlespoon]

20 questions for writers

thank you @triggerlil for the tag!! <3 i'm so late omg but this was FUN, first tag game i've done that's more author than writing snippet/drabble related :-)

tagging @air-exec, @counting0nit, @don-humes-tiny-shorts, @eternallytired17, @hauntingcontradiction

@nicijones, @bucking-mustangs-with-wings, @swifty-fox, @mangokittokatsu, anyone else who wants to! i love reading tag games like these, it's nice to learn more about the ppl behind all the brainrot :')

questions & answers below the cut! x

how many works do you have on ao3?

12!

what's your total ao3 word count? 50,182 wtf i only made my ao3 in january lol

what fandoms do you write for?

i've written for lotssss over the past decade, but my current ao3 is just saltburn and masters of the air fics :-) for the sake of this tag i'm just gonna stick to my mota fics in my answers tho since yk. mota blog lol

top 5 fics by kudos?

i don't wanna be alone tonight – buckbucky breathe me in (exhale slow) – buckbucky you're a dog (i'm your man) – buckbucky you put your arms around me (and i'm home) – buckbucky four–by–four – buckbucky

do you respond to comments?

every single one <33 i take a long while sometimes because i get too lost in the actual writing or i get overwhelmed by the kindness lol but i always always respond eventually :')

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely i see you in the daytime (i hear you at night), my first fic for masters of the air actually that spawned as a way to vent my feelings after the dreaded third episode lmaoo </3 thought that would get those boys out of my system, and i couldn't be happier to have been more wrong <3

what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ruh roh this kinda made me realize all my fics have some sorta melancholy/bittersweet ending even when they're hopeful... yad(iym) is gonna fix me fr (i think). but i guess the fuse to my fire since curt lives and the three of them are curtbuckbuckying indefinitely <3

do you get hate on fics?

i have in past fandoms but not here thankfully bc i am sensitive LOL. i've had weirdo anons that bitch about john bottoming (and i don't think those people realize it makes me inclined to write even more sub and/or bottom john to be petty SJGDK) but i wouldn't consider that hate, just bad fandom etiquette ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

do you write smut?

YEAHHH BABY <3 that's like. 99% of my drabbles/brainrot posts here and it takes serious self control to not just constantly write pwp oneshots, it's too much fun!! finding the balance in my chaptered fic for how much nsfw is too much is such a journey too lol, i wanna cram a spicy scene into every chapter but the part of me that adores slowburn over any other trope reins the gay brain in </3

craziest crossover?

haven't written any as of yet, but i do have my leaving!bikeriders au that i'm hoping to turn into a chaptered fic this summer, and that's exactly what it sounds like– buckbucky, but yank parts of callum's character from the leaving series and parts of austin's character from the bikeriders to create a buckbucky modern au. :-)

have you ever had a fic stolen?

i'm sure back in the wattpad days of the early '10s lol but none that i specifically remember!

have you ever had a fic translated?

in past fandoms!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

perhaps @curtsbigspoon and i cooked up like. 15k words of buckbucky thigh fucking etc months ago that i just need to get around to cutting down/editing >:-)

all time favorite ship?

i mean for me it's always a ship from whatever media i'm fixating on, so right now any variations of curtbuckbucky and cattonquick are everything to me <3 but in terms of ships that'll always have my heart, i can't ever let go of drarry, pricefield, clexa/murphamy, sciles/sterek– any from media i consumed during formative teenage years lol. but i will say i have never created anywhere near as much content for any other fandom as i have for mota :')

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

for once i actually have none that i see myself abandoning! i would notoriously abandon wips in past fandoms and probably would still, but guess who finally got on adhd meds last month after years of waiting? this guyyyy. i can start projects... and enjoy them the whole way through... and not get frustrated and trash them... who am i

i mean tbf i have at least a dozen wips that i've gotten either a few paras or few thousand words into lol but then a new shiny idea grabs my attention, but i do think i'll end up finishing most if not all of them off eventually! once i've invested enough time/words into a wip, i feel way more motivated to finish it so i'm not 'wasting' my efforts.

what are your writing strengths?

i feel most confident when i'm writing dialogue over anything else. writing conversation–heavy scenes or just straight up porn is when i overthink the least lmaoo

what are your writing weaknesses?

oh god, definitely having to spell out what's going on in a character's mind. like, i know what they're thinking as i'm writing out scenes; i can feel their emotions and all. i just have such a hard time putting it into words in a way that doesn't feel too obvious/overstated, if that makes sense. i very much prefer to show rather than tell their emotions, but sometimes it's hard to get that right, and i agonize over solo scenes the most, when i can't show what a character is feeling by way of verbal conversation with another character.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

no specific opinion! sometimes it's cool to read/write, mostly i don't really have an opinion one way or another :-)

first fandom you wrote in?

lmfaooo i'm pretty sure it was either for olddd youtube ships or frerard ngl. not sure which came first bc i wrote so much at once

favorite fic you've written?

you're a dog (i'm your man) has been such a labour of love for me because i care so much about doing it justice :') so maybe that one, but if unfinished fics don't count, i actually wrote breathe me in (exhale slow) in one rushed four–ish hour sitting and was kinda neutral on it until i got a completely unexpected burst of kind and beautifully worded responses, and then i felt a tiny bit proud <3

[talktomeinclexa]

My Works on Ao3

WIPs

The Royal Guard

Princess Clarke of Arkadia is kidnapped by mercenaries while on a visit to one of the kingdom’s cities. Her abductors treat her well enough, but everything becomes more complicated when their client orders them to execute her. Lexa thought this was just another job. High risk, high pay. But when push comes to shove, will she betray her orders or her heart?

The 13th Kingdom

Lexa, a half-wolf from the 10th Kingdom, is caught “sheep worrying.” Prince John gives her a choice: to rescue the 13th Kingdom’s princess, Clarke of house Griffin, for him, or to spend years in jail. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, Lexa accepts. She sets on a dangerous quest, unaware of the troubles awaiting her, the worst of which could be the cursed princess she is sent to rescue.

Clarke The Vampire Slayer

When Clarke, a young student with a clear idea of what her life will be, wakes up one morning with superhuman strength, destiny comes knocking on her door. Sent to Polis to prevent a demon from opening the Hellmouth, she can count on Lexa—the mysterious owner of a magic shop—and new friends to help her dispose of vampires, demons, and other evil creatures. But will she succeed in stopping the Apocalypse?

On the Ground All Can Hear You Scream (Mount Weather Clarke/Heda Lexa)

Novitiate Lexa is captured by reapers and wakes up prisoner in a cage, not knowing that the blonde who finds her there will change her destiny. Unless this enemy turns out to be who Fate had in store for her?

Main part of the On the Ground series

Complete Works

Alpha Your Way Into My Heart

One moment of distraction is all it takes for Clarke to accidentally send a text admitting how much Lexa’s scent affects her to the wrong addressee. Lexa. Her Alpha roommate on the cusp of her rut. The situation would be only slightly mortifying and complicated if Clarke wasn’t also an Alpha. In a world where biology and prejudices often go hand-in-hand, will the two women get their happy ending?

Monsters Among Us

South of France, May 1767. A large beast has been terrorizing the province of Gévaudan for nearly three years, preying on lone boys and girls tending their livestock. The press, idle since the end of the Seven Years’ War, loses itself in conjecture based on the witnesses’ descriptions. What is to blame? A pack of man-eating wolves, a lion, a hyena escaped from a zoo…? Exasperated by the creature’s growing streak of victims and refusal to die, Louis XV dispatches Lexa Woods to the area. After all, who better than a monster hunter to kill a beast that bullets fail to slow down?

Days of Crisis

Sheriff Lexa Woods’s life is turned upside down when a hurricane hits her small Californian town, bringing in its midst Clarke Griffin, a beautiful geologist as smart as she’s brave. But when Clarke returns a few months later to study Polis’s geographical situation and assess the risks in case more natural disasters occur, neither can deny the attraction anymore. Will they manage to open up before a series of catastrophes puts their lives at risk?

The Marriage Pact

Two childhood best friends swear to marry each other if they are still single by thirty-four. As the years pass and no one else seems good enough, the deadline approaches. Will they go through with it? Can one marry their best friend and truly be happy?

On the Groud You Will Grow Strong

A series of snippets taking place before On the Ground All Can Hear You Scream or between Clexa’s first meeting and their reunion 6 years later.

Code Blue at the Zoo

“Code Blue. I repeat, we have a Code Blue at the Snow Leopard enclosure. All personnel, insure the safety of our guests. Officer Woods, please locate Doctor Griffin and find the animal before it harms a visitor.”

Thank You Technical Issues

If Clarke had any hope of hiding how her day went from her mother, it dies the moment Abby sees them. […] “Mom, this is Lexa, my girlfriend.” The lie flies from her subconscious directly out of her lips.

Eternity in Your Arms

How far will Clarke go to save her dying brother? Will she dare make a deal with a creature of the night as beautiful as she’s ancient?

Mend the Heart You Broke (Heal the Wounds You Caused)

Clarke and Lexa led the perfect life. Married, two children, a big house, a group of reliable friends. Until Lexa cheated on her wife and the idyllic picture was smashed to bits. Three months later, Clarke is still trying to put the pieces of her heart together when Lexa slowly comes back into her life. The path to forgiveness will force the artist onto a self-introspection journey that won’t leave anyone unscathed. But isn’t true love worth the fight?

Tackle My Heart

Clarke and Lexa are two young professional football players often pitted against each other on the field. It’s a good thing the two enemies have found a way to relieve some of the tension growing between them.

On the Ground Your Heart Will Go On

When Raven gets her heart broken, Anya takes it upon herself to avenge her. A Ranya interlude in the On The Ground series.

A Feeling More Universal Than War (Enemies to Lovers)

Two soldiers, one Red, one Blue, are brought together by the circumstances after a devastating battle. Despite the animosity between their two countries, they will have to work together if they hope to survive. Can they let go of prejudice and personal grief long enough to make it out alive?

You Put The Wild In Wild West (Sheriff/Bandit AU)

Sheriff Lexa Woods sees the peace in her little town compromised when a gang of robbers, The Delinquents, set their eyes on the best Polis has to offer.

Ad Astra Per Aspera (Roman AU)

Sent into unofficial exile by Emperor Thelonius, Centurion Clarke Griffus Flavius crossed the Roman Empire all the way to Hadrian’s Wall to deliver orders to the garrison. Accompanied by her most loyal friends, she decided to go beyond the call of duty and traveled behind the wall to warn the Romans there of the upcoming dangers. How could she have known that her destiny was waiting for her there, in the middle of a strange land not half as beautiful as the Pict serving as their guide?

Pay It Forward

Clarke is a mess who ends up being arrested after her boyfriend breaks a window. Lexa, the unfortunate owner of the café with said broken window, comes up with a way for Clarke to repay her without ending up with a record. How will that small act of compassion bring them closer?

More Than A Makeover (Queer Eye AU)

The Fab Five are tasked with helping baby gay Lexa Woods come out of her shell and shine. But maybe all the girl really needs is for someone to notice her. For example, a certain blonde camera operator on your favorite Reality TV Show.

A Green Card for a Blue and Yellow Girl (Arranged Marriage AU)

When Clarke accompanied Sean Penn in Ukraine to film a documentary, she didn’t expect to return home with a woman and her son. And when it becomes clear that, in order to stay, Lexa needs a green card, she offers to marry her. That’s what nice people do, right?

The South Tower (Trapped AU)

When a plane collides with the South Tower of the World Trade Center, Clarke and Lexa are trapped inside.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold (Pirate AU)

Lexa, a pirate and the captain of The Flame, has been looking for the treasure of Titus the Bald for years. One day, she finally gets her hand on one part of the map leading to it. But French soldiers are in ambush and take her prisoner. Will Lexa manage to escape and resume her quest? Or will she find herself on a journey she would never have planned for, in the company of a French officer too beautiful and brave for her own good?

Stages of Grief (Bring the Light Back in Me)

Clarke releases the lever and watches as the residents of Mount Weather take their last, deadly breath. Her soul shatters under the weight of what she has done. Will she ever manage to pull herself back together? Can she forgive Lexa for her betrayal? Can she forgive herself? Not all at once, and not easily. But step by step, and one encounter after another, she finds herself closer to acceptance.

Wanna Be My Pandemic Buddy? (COVID AU)

When Clarke, a graphic designer stuck at home during the lockdown hears about the Dutch Institute for Public Health’s official guidance to find someone to “share physical contact with” to limit the risks, she realizes that this might be her chance to get Lexa, her beautiful neighbor, into her bed. They start sleeping together and the chemistry is amazing, but will they manage to get over their emotional constipation before the pandemic ends?

First Date (Modern AU)

The woman who takes the seat across the table is, by far, the most stunning she has ever seen. With her hair in a lazy but sophisticated bun, elegant clothes, and just enough makeup to show that she made an effort, she’s perfect. Lexa should have expected it; she has seen photos of her… But they didn’t do her justice, and for a moment, she finds herself tongue-tied, her mouth open in surprise.

Our Revolution (Historical/Assassin’s Creed AU)

Lexa, an Assassin saved by Titus when she was a child and trained by him since, is injured during a mission and saved by a young physician named Clarke. The two of them rapidly become close, despite Lexa’s dangerous life.

As the French Revolution plays around them and the Templar threat increases, will the two women survive long enough to see it through and get their happy ending?

Where the Sky Touches the Sea (Fairy Tale AU)

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away from here, lived a sweet and beautiful princess. One day, she saved the life of one of the sworn enemies of her people, a young mermaid with mesmerizing green eyes. How could she have known that this fortuitous encounter would change both their lives forever?

Will You Be My Robinson? (Enemies to Lovers)

Clarke, a promising graphic designer for a marketing agency, is sent to the Philippines with some coworkers to visit the new office there. Their trip ends with a few days of vacation on Palawan Island. When a typhoon comes out of nowhere, Clarke ends up stranded on a deserted island with the one person she can’t stand, her workplace nemesis, Lexa. Will the two women learn to cooperate so they can survive long enough to be rescued? Or will they try to strangle each other before anyone can even notice they are missing?

The Iliad

Lexa, the best warrior that ever lived, and her cousin Anya accompany the Greek army on its way to Troy to recover Helen, queen of Sparta and Bellamy’s wife, kidnapped by the Trojan prince Finn. Will the two lovers and their faithful Myrmidons be able to conquer the impregnable fortress, or will they succumb to fate and the blue eyes of a prisoner?

Where the Wild Things Are (Hunters/hybrids AU)

A determined hunter stumbles onto a clan of hybrids and gets more than she bargained for. A millennium-old hybrid discovers that her soulmate belongs to a prominent family of hunters. An orphaned teenager learns that destiny has more in store for her than she could have prepared for. Threats grow in the shadows, waiting to strike at the hybrids and the hunters. Will old rancors leave enough room for new alliances and feelings to bloom?

Jurassic Park

Lexa Woods, an eminent paleontologist and a professor at Polis University, was invited by Marcus Kane, an eccentric billionaire, to visit and possibly endorse his “theme park” after she gained some popularity on the Internet through a TED talk. A few days later, she finds herself on a remote island with not-extinct-anymore dinosaurs, a beautiful vet, and two kids. What could go wrong indeed?

Eden (Canon Fix-It Post Season 4)

After the second Praimfaya, Clarke finds herself alone on Earth. Or so she thinks until the panther that swallowed the Flame and Lexa’s consciousness leads her to Shallow Valley.

We Met Again (Canon Fix-It Ending)

The last test was taken, and now it is time to face the consequences. Will Clarke finally get her happy ending?

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting – External Ghost; Than an interior Confronting – That Whiter Host

Depressed teenager Lexa meets Ghost Clarke. The two become fast friends as Clarke helps the girl navigate life’s hardships. But what happens when feelings blossom between the two?

Not All Treasure’s Silver And Gold (Pirate AU)

Captain Clarke is taken prisoner on The Flame, the infamous frigate led by a merciless pirate known as The Commander.

Big Brother Is Watching You

A suspicious Google search history leads to a misunderstanding. Starring: klutzy Clarke and her new neighbor, shy Lexa

Hold Me Tight (Elyza Lex/Alicia Clark; FTWD AU)

On the Abigail, Alicia strikes up a conversation with a stranger on the radio. When the woman shows up uninvited and steals some of their food, neither of them knows that it’s only the beginning of their story. But the dead aren’t quite gone, and the living are hungrier than ever. Will the two women get the happy ending they deserve?

[femininenachos]

Hi! I’ve loved DWBYG for a long time because it was my intro to the Clexa AU world. It’s only today that I stumbled upon the #model!au snippet written around the same time you were finishing up DWBYG! Is it a wip or a one-off snippet?

Oof, Model AU has lived rent free in my head for about… 6(7?) years, but it never did come to fruition as a fully-fledged fic. From my perspective, the snippets and headcanons are sort of perfectly preserved in amber and I don’t want to mess with them. Plus, at this point I just don’t think I can write it—even though Miss Fashionista, Dior-ambassador ADC is generously providing so much model!au fodder on the regular these days. The time has passed, you know? I still think about it, but more because of nostalgia for the Model Lexa crack and shenanigans that went on here.

Sorry to disappoint! But thank you for the DWBYG love 💜