#clexa week 2020

[almostafantasia]

give in to my temptation

CLEXA WEEK 2020 | DAY ONE - FORBIDDEN LOVE

When Clarke's friends catch her thirsting over the captain of their rival college's soccer team, they categorically ban her from acting on her lust. It's not her fault that she's already met and hit it off with Lexa Woods. Besides, what Octavia and Raven don't know can't hurt them...

Read on AO3

“Shit, have you seen my bra?”

Roused from sleep by a voice in her room, Clarke opens her eyes and lifts her head from her pillow, watching as the half-naked girl searches Clarke’s bedroom for the missing undergarment.

“You’re leaving already?” Clarke asks.

It’s not even fully light outside yet. Through the cracks in her blinds, Clarke can see the first glimpse of daybreak just starting to wake up the world. One glance at the screen of the phone laid face up on the nightstand is enough to confirm that this is an ungodly hour to be awake on any day, but especially after a night of very little sleep.

“I have to get to the gym,” says the girl - Lexa, a name that Clarke only remembers now because she kept getting it wrong for the first half hour after they met each other in an off-campus bar last night, much to her mortification when she found out the truth. “Aha!”

Lexa holds up a bra between her thumb and forefinger, a triumphant expression on her face, before she puts it back on.

“You have to?” asks Clarke, rolling onto her back and rubbing at her bleary eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Coach’ll be pissed if the captain doesn’t show up.”

Lexa pulls her sweater over her head, covering up the truly magnificent set of abs that Clarke had the pleasure of appreciating up close last night, then sits on the end of Clarke’s bed so that she can lace up her shoes.

“You’re the captain?”

“Of the soccer team,” nods Lexa. 

“And you’re sure I can’t tempt you with an alternative workout?” asks Clarke, sitting up in bed and deliberately letting the sheets pool around her waist so that her breasts are exposed.

Predictably, Lexa’s eyes drop, widening slightly as she stares for a few seconds. Clarke remembers exactly how much Lexa enjoyed her tits last night, and her cheeks flush hot as she recalls the feeling of Lexa’s accomplished tongue painting circles around her nipples as Clarke’s back arched off the bed in search of more contact.

Lexa’s green eyes flicker back up to Clarke’s face, pupils blown wider than before, but with a playful little smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Nice try,” she shoots back at Clarke, “but it doesn’t work like that.”

Lexa gets to her feet and makes her way to Clarke’s bedroom door, stopping with her hand on handle.

“Thanks for a good night. I had a lot of fun.”

And then, before Clarke can formulate an answer or even contemplate asking for Lexa’s number so that they can meet up again, Lexa is gone without another word.

…

There are only two major colleges in Clarke’s city. Clarke knows enough of the women’s soccer team at Arkadia University for it to be a simple process of elimination that Lexa must be the captain of the other college’s team.

It’s pretty hard to concentrate on anything even vaguely productive with her mind still full of the memories from last night. Clarke is supposed to be revising for a test next week but she gets distracted too easily, and it takes only a simple google search of the Polis University women’s soccer team for Clarke to be staring at their glossy red and black website, complete with a professionally shot photograph of the full team in two neat rows in front of the goalposts. Lexa sits in the centre of the front row, hair pushed back into a slick ponytail and wearing the captain’s armband around her left bicep. She’s even hotter than Clarke remembers, almost aloof in the way she stares at the camera with her head held up and a formidable look in her eyes.

“Hey, Clarke!”

Clarke nearly falls off her chair in surprise as Octavia and Raven drop into the empty seats on either side of Clarke at her table in the Arkadia University library.

“Wait, why have you got a picture of the Polis soccer team on your computer.”

“Because I’m bored of studying and there’s some nice eye candy in their team,” answers Clarke. “The captain is very nice to look at.”

Clarke pauses, wondering whether to elaborate and explain the encounter she had with the Polis team captain last night and into the early hours of this morning, but her hesitation gives Raven and Octavia the time needed to shut her down before she can even speak.

“Absolutely not,” says Raven.

“If you even entertain the idea, you’re dead to me, Griffin,” adds Octavia.

Clarke recoils at the abruptness of their reaction and minimises the window on her computer before it sparks any further outrage.

“Wow, I was just looking,” says Clarke, defensively. “I’m not going to propose marriage to the girl.”

“You’d better not!” says Raven, giving Clarke a stern look. “You know the Lexa Woods is the sole reason we lost out on the state championship last year?”

“I thought it was because…”

“No,” interrupts Raven, holding up a hand to stop Clarke mid-sentence. “It was Woods.”

“The rest of the Polis team aren’t anything without her,” agrees Octavia.

Clarke thinks back to last night, when she had no idea that she was bedding the star player of a rival team, and wonders if things would have differed if she had known Lexa’s real identity. Clarke highly doubts that there is much that could have stopped her from going for what she wanted after she met Lexa in the bar last night, and she only feels a tiny niggle of guilt now at the realisation that she might have accidentally betrayed two of her closest friends for a single night of no-strings-attached fun.

“She’s that good, huh?” asks Clarke, and as her memory reminds her of something else that Lexa is skilled at, she feels a familiar throb between her legs.

“I see that look on your face, Clarke!” says Raven, pointing an accusatory finger at Clarke. “Don’t even think about it. She’s the enemy. One hundred percent off-limits.”

Clarke wonders how Raven and Octavia would react if they knew that Clarke has already slept with the enemy.

In her defence, Lexa is not specifically Clarke’s enemy. Clarke’s loyalties lie with the Arkadia team because of her best friends, not because she has a particularly strong allegiance to her own college.

Which is why it is way too easy to lie and say, “I’ve forgotten about her already.”

…

Clarke waits six whole days, out of respect for her friends, before making contact with Lexa.

She finds her on social media easily - there’s only one Lexa Woods in their city, and Clarke recognises the distinctive red and black kit of the Polis University soccer kit that she wears in her profile picture.

When she decides to reach out to Lexa with a private message, it’s only with the intention of being friendly. And it’s just basic respect that causes Clarke to suggest that they meet again, that causes her to invite Lexa out for a drink and then back to hers, just politeness that motivates Clarke to kiss Lexa, to pull at her clothes and to touch her until she is arching her back and crying out in pleasure.

It is only out of politeness that Clarke lets Lexa return the favour.

Twice.

Clarke doesn’t think about her friends and the strict instructions they gave her until much later, when she is curled up against Lexa’s naked body beneath her covers. And it is very difficult to feel any kind of remorse when she is still basking in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

“So, my friends categorically forbade me from sleeping with you,” says Clarke, as Lexa’s fingers absently trace a path up and down Clarke’s bare spine. “Apparently you’re the enemy.”

Clarke feels rather than hears the little snort of laughter than Lexa gives in response.

“Is it me personally that your friends don’t like or is it the fact I go to Polis?”

“Both,” answers Clarke, lifting her head so that she can look into Lexa’s eyes, before she adds, “My friends are Octavia and Raven.”

Lexa’s green eyes stare at Clarke blankly for a few seconds, as if she has no idea who Clarke is talking about.

“Octavia Blake and Raven Reyes?” explains Clarke.

Lexa’s eyes widen in surprise as she asks, “You’re friends with Blake and Reyes?”

“Since high school,” says Clarke, with a little nod.

“You know that Blake is dating our quarterback? Isn’t it a bit hypocritical of her to warn you against sleeping with the enemy?”

“Different sports,” shrugs Clarke, though she does feel a small amount of comfort in recalling the way that Raven had been furious with Octavia for about a week after finding out about her new boyfriend, before forgiving her almost immediately upon actually meeting Lincoln. Clarke momentarily allows herself to wonder if Raven’s reaction would be the same upon learning about Lexa - initial betrayal that is put aside when Raven actually takes the time to get to know Lexa - before she remembers that Lexa is just a hookup, not somebody she has any intention of introducing to her friends.

“The big game against Arkadia is next week,” says Lexa. “Will you be watching?”

“Uh huh,” Clarke hums into Lexa’s neck.

Lexa’s hand stills on the small of Clarke’s back, just a few inches away from resting on the swell of Clarke’s ass.

“And which side will you be rooting for?”

“Arkadia, of course,” says Clarke, lifting her upper body up at the same time as she swings a leg across Lexa’s hips to straddle her. She grinds her hips down suggestively as both of Lexa’s hands come to rest on her upper thighs, then leans down far enough to be able to murmur against Lexa’s lips, “But if you were to score a goal or two, I might be persuaded to offer some kind of consolation prize…”

…

Clarke dresses head-to-toe in light blue for the game between Arkadia and Polis. She owes her friends that much. 

And so what if she misses Octavia’s goal at the beginning of the second half because she’s too busy ogling Lexa’s thighs and thinking about them being wrapped around her own body?

(She cheers a little bit louder and waves her blue and white Arkadia University flag a little harder, just to compensate.)

When Lexa scores the goal that brings Polis level ten minutes later, Clarke cheers just as hard on the inside, but manages to externally project only disappointment at the fact her team has just lost their lead.

It’s when Lexa scores a second goal, just a few minutes before the end of the match, that Clarke is really torn between the two sides. Her only knowledge of soccer comes from picking up bits and pieces from Octavia and Raven over the years, but even she can tell that Lexa is a brilliant player. She looks so unassuming one second, and the next Lexa will be sprinting along the wing so fast that the Arkadia team don’t even notice her moving until it’s too late to do anything about it.

Octavia and Raven look broken as their side goes behind. Clarke really feels bad for them and finds herself furiously glaring at Lexa for doing this to her two best friends.

And then Lexa glances up and makes eye contact with Clarke, and it’s not even like she does anything even remotely sexual, but the tiny nod of acknowledgement she gives Clarke is enough for all Clarke’s irritation to melt away as her chest fills with mixed affection and lust for Lexa. 

The game ends a few minutes later with Polis University’s two goals leading Arkadia’s one. Clarke watches from the stands, torn as Lexa celebrates with her teammates on the same pitch that Octavia collapses onto, exhausted and broken as she lets out a frustrated cry of defeat that carries through the air.

Clarke loiters outside the locker rooms once the game has finished, playing on her phone as she half-hopes that Lexa will send her a message asking to meet, but it is Octavia and Raven who appear first, freshly showered and wearing scowls that can probably be seen from space.

“You both played brilliantly,” says Clarke, slipping her phone back into her pocket and wrapping an arm around each of them as she bundles them into a group hug.

“Not well enough,” grumbles Octavia. “We should have won that game. We were all over them in the first half.”

“Fucking Woods,” adds Raven, shaking her head in disappointment. “Anyway, Harper is having the team around to hers tonight. We’re all going to drink ourselves into a coma. You coming?”

Behind Octavia and Raven, Lexa walks through the door from the Polis changing room, hair hanging in damp curls around her face and her black sports bag slung over one shoulder. Clarke makes eye contact with her, then immediately looks away before her friends notice what she’s looking at.

“I think I’ll pass,” answers Clarke, trying to keep her voice as level as possible, even as she sees Lexa drop down onto one knee and fiddle with her shoelace, as if she’s trying to hang around until Clarke is alone.

“Really?” asks Octavia, the surprise at Clarke turning down an opportunity to party evident in her voice.

“I’ve got other stuff to do,” says Clarke.

“Like what?” asks Raven.

“Revision.”

“On a Saturday night?”

Clarke hesitates, her eyes flicking between Octavia and Raven, who stare at her with matching expressions of disbelief, before she says, “Yeah. I remembered during the game that one of my professors is expecting me to read two chapters before Tuesday and I haven’t even opened the book yet.”

Octavia and Raven exchange a glance, and then Octavia says, “Bullshit.”

Clarke can’t help but let her eyes wander to the real reason why she doesn’t want to accept the invitation. Lexa is now preoccupied with rummaging around in her sports bag for something - whether she is actually looking for something or is just trying to make herself look busy so that it doesn’t seem suspicious that she’s hanging around outside the locker rooms, Clarke’s doesn’t actually know - but she glances up, as if sensing Clarke’s eyes on her, and shoots Clarke a smile.

Clarke smiles back, before she has the chance to remember that she is talking to the two people who have forbidden her from even lusting after their rival captain, and realises her mistake only too late. She watches, almost in slow motion, as Octavia and Raven follow Clarke’s gaze to see who she is smiling at, and the panic starts to rise in her chest.

“Maybe I could join you at the party a bit later?” Clarke blurts out, a desperate attempt to distract Octavia and Raven from what’s really going on here.

It doesn’t fool them.

“How long have you been sleeping with Lexa Woods?” asks Octavia, folding her arms across her chest as her attention turns back to Clarke.

“What?” exclaims Clarke, letting out a snort and shaking her head. “I’m not… what are you talking about? You think I’m…?”

“Clarke,” interrupts Raven. “We’re not stupid.”

Clarke feels her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment at being called out so spectacularly on her actions, though she valiantly maintains the frown of confusion on her face as if she has done nothing wrong at all.

“How long?” asks Octavia. “Was it before or after we told you not to?”

Clarke is momentarily prepared to fight, to lay out her argument and attempt to justify her actions because she is a grown woman goddamnit and can decide for herself who she does and doesn’t want to sleep with. But then she realises that Octavia and Raven don’t actually seem that mad, and wonders if perhaps they’ve known all along, if they had already worked out prior to Clarke’s slip up tonight that her interest in Lexa Woods was more than just a one-time ogle of a soccer team’s website.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Clarke says, “Well, in my defence, it started before…”

“I fucking knew it!” cries out Octavia, slapping her thigh with the palm of her hand. She holds out her other hand to Raven, and then says, “Pay up, Reyes.”

As Raven grumbles incoherently under her breath and reaches into her bag for her wallet to pull out a few crisp notes and pass them across to Octavia, Clarke’s mouth hangs open in surprise.

“Hold up, you guys knew?” 

“We had strong suspicions,” Octavia corrects Clarke, pocketing the winnings from her bet with Raven. “After we told you not to, Raven pointed out that you were probably more likely to go after Woods. I joked that you’d probably already slept with her.”

“I didn’t know who she was, I promise,” says Clarke. Her eyes flicker across to where Lexa leans against the wall of the changing rooms, now combing out her wet hair with her fingers, and her throat goes dry at the memories from the two nights they’ve spent together. “And I mean, have you seen how hot she is?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” answers Octavia, shaking her head.

“Nope,” agrees Raven. “Every time I see her, the only thing I can think about are all the ways I could break her legs to stop her from playing soccer again.”

For a moment, Clarke isn’t one hundred percent sure if Raven is joking or not, until Raven speaks again.

“No, but seriously, Clarke,” adds Raven. “I hate her as a soccer player because she’s just too damn good. But if she makes you happy, then I’m cool with it, okay?”

“Same here,” adds Octavia.

“It’s just sex,” shrugs Clarke. And then, because she needs to get it off her chest and there is no such thing as oversharing with Octavia and Raven, she adds, “Really really good sex. God, it’s not just soccer she’s good at…”

“Okay, Clarke,” says Raven, as she winces at Clarke’s words. “We’ll leave you with your girl.”

“But you are coming to the party later,” says Octavia, with just a hint of a threat in her voice. “Just … do whatever it is you need to do with Woods, then get your ass over to Harper’s. I can forgive you for sleeping with the enemy, but not if you bail on us later, okay?”

As Octavia and Raven traipse away, muttering under their breath what Clarke is sure is another thinly veiled complaint about Polis beating Arkadia, Lexa stops pretending to be busy and wanders over to Clarke.

“I’m sorry your friends lost,” says Lexa. “They were a good match for us tonight.”

“You were better,” says Clarke, with a little shrug. “And they’re big girls, they’ll get over it. Actually, they might not - have you thought about hiring somebody to taste your food before you eat it just in case one of them slips you something laced with poison?”

Lexa laughs, and reaches out to take one of Clarke’s hands with her own.

“I overheard a little … I mean, I take it they know about us?” she asks Clarke.

“Apparently so,” nods Clarke. “And they’re surprisingly okay about it.”

“Cool,” says Lexa. “So, um … what are you doing tonight?”

Using their linked hands as leverage, Clarke pulls Lexa close to her and rests her other hand on Lexa’s waist.

“Well, I’ve been told I have to go to their little commiseration party,” says Clarke, pouting to convey that she would much rather be doing other things tonight. “And to be honest, somebody needs to make sure that they don’t all drink until they need to get their stomachs pumped.”

Lexa brushes some of Clarke’s hair out of her face, leaving her hand cupping the back of Clarke’s head.

“That’s a shame,” she murmurs. “How about tomorrow? Would you let me take you out on a proper date?”

Clarke’s heart does an actual honest-to-god somersault in her chest.

“You want to?” she asks in disbelief.

“I mean, only if you do.”

Clarke answers, not with words, but by pulling Lexa’s body flush against her own and pressing her lips to Lexa’s. Lexa seems taken aback at first, but then the hand cupping Clarke’s head buries itself in her hair while the other drops Clarke’s hand and instead winds its way around Clarke’s back, holding her close.

“Is that a yes?” Lexa murmurs against Clarke’s lips, barely breaking the kiss for long enough to speak, before her mouth is back on Clarke’s.

“Yes,” Clarke answers, her mind already starting to wonder just how late she’ll be able to turn up to Harper’s party without pissing her friends off. “Of course it’s a yes.”

[kloxbian]

In the Substance of Silence

Synopsis: 

Clarke and Lexa never had any real interactions despite being roommates. At least, they didn't until tonight.

WARNING: This is based around the fact that Lexa has no family, no friends, and has no one to lean on. It's very heavy on the feels.

I just wrote this to indulge myself but I hope you all enjoy it.

-

Clarke and Lexa rarely spoke.

 They’d been college roommates for coming up on seven months and they’d never said anything more than polite greetings. They were both stacked with classes and when Clarke woke up on the weekends Lexa was usually nowhere to be seen. It made sense that they didn’t talk. They barely saw each other.

 Clarke’s feelings for Lexa were… conflicted. She admired the girl’s work ethic. She was devoted to her major, criminal justice, a thing she only knew from seeing the titles of her textbooks. She admired the girl’s seriousness, though sometimes wished it wasn’t so much. She admired the girl’s beauty. That was indisputable. But she didn’t know enough about her to know exactly how to judge her.

 Then it changed.

 Clarke woke to the door swinging open, footsteps walking inside. She burrowed back into her pillows. Lexa came home late often. This wasn’t anything new.

 Then she heard her sob.

 The sound wrenched at Clarke’s heart. She rolled over and sat up. Lexa held onto the edge of the minifridge, hunched over it, panting loudly. Tears dripped down her cheeks and the occasional whimper of pain could be heard. She was messy in a way Clarke had never seen. Disorganized. Shaken.

 Clarke slipped out of bed and took a glance at the clock. 01:13. Lexa was never this late.

 She walked slowly up to the older woman. “Lexa? Are you alright?”

 Lexa’s head jerked up, swollen red eyes meeting her own. Lexa gasped, blinking harshly through the tears, letting go of the minifridge to stand up. Bad idea. Her legs were unsteady, wavering beneath her weight.

Clarke caught her as Lexa collapsed forward. She lifted her into her arms, supporting almost all of her weight. “Hey, hey, Lexa, you’re okay, you’re okay. It’s alright.” Lexa trembled in her arms, stiff under her touch. Clarke sighed, resting a hand on Lexa’s curls and setting her head down on her shoulder. “Relax. You’re alright.”

Lexa slowly softened, her body loosening and all of her weight leaning on Clarke. Clarke kept her steady, her hand a constant pressure on her back anchoring her to the world. She tried to rein in her sobs. She had already embarrassed herself as it was, no need to make it any worse. 

She couldn’t help it, though. Clarke was pressed up against her front and her hands were on her back and in her hair and she felt so warm and radiant and she couldn’t help herself. Ever since her parent’s death, she’d had only Anya, who went to college a state over. She stayed with Lexa for the next three months until she was eighteen and then had to return to college, but they kept in touch. Visited occasionally, called each other a lot, something typical friends would do.

And then she got the phone call that Anya had been hospitalized.

She’d rushed over, making the four-hour drive in barely three. According to the doctors, Anya had been caught in the crossfire of a gunman and had been shot in the stomach and shoulder. She hadn’t been allowed to see her until after she died.

So Lexa drove home, keeping her mind elsewhere while she sat in front of the wheel, but back here, with no such distractions, she broke down. And now Clarke had to deal with her weakness.

The thing was, she hadn’t had a single comforting touch since her parents died three years ago. Sure, Anya was there, but Anya wasn’t a touchy person. There had been the thing with Costia two years back, but their relationship wasn’t cuddly or anything. The only time they really touched was during sex.

It made Clarke’s comforting hold all the more addicting.

She felt her hand rubbing circles on her spine, her hair tangled in her fingers as she lightly scratched at her scalp, and Lexa melted. Her arms circled tightly around Clarke’s waist and she buried her face into her neck. Tears dripped down her cheeks and trailed down Clarke’s neck but she didn’t care. She held a broken, shaking mess of a girl in her arms and gods be damned would she just leave her to deal with it alone.

Clarke stepped back, tugging Lexa along with her. Lexa allowed herself to be pulled along, unaware of where they were going, only aware of the tightness in her throat and the hot press of Clarke’s skin against her face. Clarke sat down on the bed and pulled Lexa down beside her. Stroking a hand down her cheek, Clarke pulled away gently, trying to lay her down onto the pillows.

To her embarrassment, Lexa whined loudly, arms tightening around Clarke’s waist as she pushed her face into her chest. Clarke shushed her, tucking an arm back around her back and pulling her closer. She rested her chin on Lexa’s head and stood there while the other girl quivered uncontrollably. 

Clarke was gentle. It took some time for Lexa to calm down but as soon as she did, Clarke began to coax her back onto the bed. Lexa felt heavy, her vision blurry, and despite the small whimper at Clarke’s warmth leaving, she lay down on the bed. She felt the heavy layer of a blanket settle over her and curled up beneath it, still shivering. Clarke stayed at her bedside, stroking her chocolate hair until she finally quieted and fell into a fitful slumber.

She returns to her own bed, the exhaustion from staying up until eleven the past three nights studying rushing back to her. She had no time to deliberate what had just happened before she only saw black.

-

Clarke groaned as she came back to the real world, burying her face deep into her pillows. The alarm was blaring next to her but she ignored it in favor of curling back up on her side and pulling the blanket up to her chin.

The alarm stopped. She rolled over sluggishly, blinking sleep out of her eyes and saw Lexa looking down at her from where she stood next to her nightstand. She looked exhausted, eyes red and large bags under her eyes.

It took Clarke a moment to remember last night, but she did. She sat up, rubbing her sleep-saturated eyes. “Morning, Lexa.”

“Good morning, Clarke.” Even her voice was off. It was raspy and stiff.

Clarke stood, reaching blindly for a pair of jeans she knew she had left out. “Are you alright?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Clarke gave her a ‘really?’ look, slipping her shirt over her head. Lexa averted her gaze. She exhaled long and slow as if dreading having to answer. “No. I’m not.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Lexa walked over to her desk, pulling a banana from where she kept them. They were her usual breakfast, and she knew Clarke occasionally stole one as well but usually made up for it by buying some herself. She tried her hardest to ignore Clarke getting ready behind her.

Clarke didn’t just walk out like she usually did. “I’m going to get some coffee with my friends,” she said, walking up behind Lexa and gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

Lexa turned to look at her, a bit stunned at the bright expanse of blue that resided in her eyes. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” She tried to block out the feeling of Clarke’s hand on her shoulder. 

Clarke didn’t give her the sympathetic look she was expecting, instead just nodding and squeezing her shoulder. “Okay. See you later, then.” 

Lexa couldn’t help the disappointment that came when Clarke left.

-

They didn’t talk for three days after that. 

Lexa saw the looks that Clarke gave her - the worried, I-want-to-talk-but-I’m-not-going-to looks she’d seen other people give but never received. In all truth, Lexa kind of wanted her to talk. She didn’t want to face her feelings, which she knew would happen one way or another if she actually engaged in conversation, but Clarke was one of the only semblances of home she had left. Her entire family was dead, she’d never bothered making friends in college, and she was alone.

Lexa has to pause for a moment when she steps into their shared room and sees Clarke passed out at her desk. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, Lexa knew Clarke always studied until her brains fell out, but her feelings toward her had changed. It wasn’t purely mutual respect, there was something else. The realization that Clarke was the closest thing she had to a family despite them rarely speaking made things different. Made her mean something more.

Lexa rested a hand tentatively on her shoulder, hesitating a moment before shaking it lightly. Clarke grumbled something and sighed, eyes fluttering. Lexa felt something akin to affection rise deep within her. She leaned down. “Clarke. Wake up.”

Clarke blinked blearily, her eyes adjusting to the dark. “Lex? Is that you?” Her voice was heavy with sleep, the rasp making her shudder. She felt touched at the name, even though it was only a slip-up.

“Yes, Clarke. You fell asleep at your desk.”

“Oh.” Clarke sat up, rolling her neck to try and get rid of the ache and arching her back. She yawned widely. “Thanks, Lex.”

 There it was again. She’d never been called that by anyone, and really, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. The name Lexa was technically a nickname anyway, not that she ever used her given one. Alexandria. Much too formal for her taste, though as a lawyer it might sound better than Lexa. The only nicknames she’d ever gotten were from Anya, who’d called her Commander and sometimes Alex just because she knew it pissed Lexa off.

The thought of Anya brought her down again. She’d tried to avoid thinking about her, afraid she’d break down again, and if the blurriness of her eyes was anything to go by, she probably would. The thing was, though, that this never happened outside of this room. With other people, she refused to show it. To show any semblance of weakness. With Clarke, the barriers began to crack. Maybe it was because she’d accepted Lexa’s weakness before. Maybe it was because she didn’t feel nearly as comfortable with anyone else. Maybe it was just because she needed someone. 

“Lexa?” She blinked, clearing her vision to look Clarke in the eyes. Her eyelids drooped but beneath there was concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing down her emotions. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Clarke didn’t argue as Lexa ushered her to her bed, draping herself on the mattress without bothering to change. Lexa had to hold back a laugh. She grabbed the covers from the end of the bed and lay them delicately over the younger girl. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

“G’night, Lex.” Lexa smiled as Clarke curled in on herself, burying her face into the pillow and pulling the covers up to her chin. She changed quickly, laying down in her own bed and watching.

What was it about that girl that made Lexa so careless? Whenever she was alone here with Clarke, the facade she always had up began to fall away and it terrified her. No one, save- her, had ever seen Lexa without a mask of apathy. And without even trying Clarke was tearing it down piece by piece.

Lexa stared, watching the blankets rise and fall with each breath, a strand of curled golden hair blow lightly from the steady beat of exhales. Her face was smoothed over in a way that Lexa envied. Despite the struggle of being a med student, Clarke never found herself unable to do what she wanted. Sure, she stayed up until four in the morning studying some nights, but it never brought her down. She still found time to smile, to laugh, and Lexa wished, gods, she craved to be happy with such ease.

Lexa rolled to face the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and crying silent tears.

-

She hadn’t had a nightmare that bad in years.

Whenever she dreamed, it was always a nightmare, but not like this. She hadn’t had one like this since she was orphaned eight years ago.

She woke up with a shriek, visions of Anya flashing behind her eyelids, old pictures of her parents disapproving faces leering down at her from a place she couldn’t see. 

She heard footsteps and curled inwards on herself, hiding from the ghosts of the dead that would forever haunt her to no end. A sob ripped at her throat, one so hard to contain that it felt like her insides were burning. She could barely breathe, she couldn’t breathe, gods, why was it so hard to fucking live-

She felt something wet splash down onto her cheek. Her tears? No, she was too afraid, too caught up in her terror to even think of crying. It brought her back from her oblivion, making her aware of the warm body curled over her, crying for her. She couldn’t think clearly, she was too unstable to be dealing with this right now, all she could think of was Clarke and how good it felt to have someone to touch, to feel, to love.

Lexa reached out blindly, her fingers grazing soft, fragile skin, and she swore that was going insane because no way could something so meager feel so good. She groped for something to hold onto, grasping Clarke’s shoulder and pulling herself closer, dropping her face into Clarke’s lap and sobbing.

She felt Clarke all around her, surrounding her, consuming her in a way that she never wanted to be let out of. Warm hands fell into her hair, fingers drifting softly over Lexa’s face and neck, wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks. She could feel Clarke moving and whined sharply, wrapping her arms around her waist and shoving her nose into the dip of her hip. Clarke shushed her, laying a heavy, comforting arm over her shoulders and pulling her up as Clarke reclined against the headboard. Lexa’s hand made its way under the back of Clarke’s shirt, splaying out over her warmth and soaking her in.

Clarke didn’t know what was going on but said nothing, holding the weeping mess of a girl close to her body. Lexa was always strong, so strong, but the trembling body in her lap showed her that Lexa was just as human as anyone. She’d tried so hard to keep everyone blocked away, to stay away from the real world, but even the strongest have their breaking points. 

She kept one arm tucked protectively over her back and the other scratching lightly at her scalp, muttering hushed reassurances into Lexa’s ear. She didn’t know how long it took, she didn’t dare tear her eyes away from Lexa curled up in her lap, but she eventually began to calm, her breathing softening, slowing, her body relaxing deeper into Clarke’s hold. A huge sigh washed over the skin where her shirt rode up at her stomach. She leaned down, talking lower than a whisper.

“I’ve got you.”

[onemilliongoldstars]

clexa week day 4 - roommates. a little look into the lives of magical clarke and lexa from a little piece of magic as they first move in together. 

-  

“You know, when you said you had a lot of stuff I didn’t necessarily think you meant… this much stuff.” Lexa stares down upon the piles and piles of cardboard boxes littering the hardwood floor of their new apartment, which Clarke has just materialised out of thin air with a wave of her wand and an expression of intense concentration. 

“Oh it isn’t that much stuff,” Clarke shrugs her off, picking her way through the boxes to peer at the labels scrawled on their side in sharpie. 

Lexa spots a small, irritated face staring up at her frome one of the boxes and gapes at the blonde, hurrying through the maze to scoop Albus up from his place curled in beside a teapot. 

“Clarke tell me you didn’t magic Albus over here with the rest of your stuff!” She holds the cat to her chest, cooing sympathetically even as he wriggles. 

Clarke casts an annoyed glance at the feline in Lexa’s grip. “He wouldn’t get out! He knew what was coming.”

“It’s cruel!” Lexa fixed her with a scowl, but in her arms Albus hisses, kicking until she unwillingly deposits him on the ground. He darts away behind the new couch, two burning eyes appearing from beneath the furniture to glare at her and Lexa stares back at him morosely for a moment. Despite her many efforts and a huge amount of kippers and catnip, she has yet to make Albus change his opinion of her and he still regards her with the same distaste with which he treats everyone else. 

“I hope I didn’t forget anything, or lose anything in transit.” Clarke frets, tugging the boxes from one side to the other, picking through the random nick knacks inside of them. “God, I hope nothing ended up at my mother’s by accident.”

“There can’t possibly be more,” Lexa’s eyes widen, and she steps over a box overflowing with Clarke’s many cauldrons to get to the kitchen. 

From her place roosting on one of the built in bookcases, currently empty of their belongings, Astrid hoots her agreement and swoops across the apartment with a flicker of her strong wings to settle upon Lexa’s shoulder. She ruffles her feathers once and casts a disgruntled look about the room, though when Lexa tickles her with a gentle finger she softens and leans into the touch like a chick.

Lexa can’t help but laugh when she spots Clarke’s admiring look, and her girlfriend rolls her eyes, despite the blush rising up her cheeks. Clarke adores Astrid with the sort of fearful longing that makes her tolerable to the bird. Snowy owls are notoriously vain familiars, something she knew when she first adopted the little brown chick, and Astrid enjoys Clarke’s admiration enough to occasionally reward her with a favourable hoot, or by landing upon her head and picking through her hair for dirt or insects. 

“I’m not looking forward to unpacking all of this,” Clarke moans, stepping through the boxes to cast her a pleading look from beneath her eyelashes. 

Lexa presses her lips together, but this time she is the one who blushes, and she curses that Clarke knows how she can’t ignore those big eyes. 

“No, no, we have to do some things ourselves.”

“Oh but come on, you’re way better at charms than me!” Clarke pouts, jutting out her lower lip and Astrid rolls her yellow eyes and takes off from Lexa’s shoulder with a flap of her wings.

Clarke tucks herself into Lexa’s side, wriggling her hands beneath the hem of her t shirt and across her bare skin to nuzzle into her neck. Despite herself, Lexa twists and pulls in a deep breath of Clarke’s floral perfume, which she has worn every day for as long as Lexa has known her, and feels herself relax into the blonde’s touch. 

“If you do,” Clarke wheedles, persuasively. “I’ll make toadstool soup.”

Lexa’s mouth begins to salivate at the words, and she groans softly, leaning back into Clarke’s touch. “Anya and Raven will be here in a few hours, Anya doesn’t like toadstool soup.”

“I turned Anya back into a human being and set her up with one of my best friends,” Clarke grouches, but her lips brush just below Lexa’s ear which really takes the sting out of her words. “She’ll eat whatever she’s given.”

“Well technically they already had a date arranged before you met Anya,” Lexa murmurs, and twists in her arms to press a kiss to her lips and steal away her response. Clarke hums softly in response, her grip tightening just a little, and pushes Lexa two steps backwards until her ass collides with the counter. Her lips part and the faintest touch of teeth and tongue pull another groan from Lexa, this one a little louder.

When finally they pull away for air, Lexa gasping, Clarke kisses her way up Lexa’s neck and when she speaks again her voice is low and dirty.

“Or maybe we should just forget about unpacking and test out every surface of our new place.”

Lexa laughs, a desperate sound, and shakes her head, pulling away to look Clarke in the eyes with a grin.

“You’re insatiable now that we’re roommates.”

“Roommates?” Clarke arches an eyebrow, flickering her gaze down to Lexa’s kiss swollen lips. “Is that what you’d call us?” 

“Well,” Lexa flushes a little. “We do have two bedrooms.”

“One of which we’ve turned into my studio,” Clarke reminds her, teasingly, and then steps up to kiss her again. “Face it, we’re more than roommates, you’re stuck with me now.”

“Thank god,” Lexa murmurs and enjoys the smile that spreads across Clarke’s face. 

[100hearteyes]

Clexa Week 2020 - Day 5: AU

In a garden on the roof of a tall house overlooking a canal, a man sat dealing cards out onto a table made of stone. He made a circle of twelve cards, face up and with the tops facing outwards, methodically moving widdershins. He placed a thirteenth card in the middle of the circle, then leaned back and contemplated the pattern.

"Strange," he murmured, as he scratched his thick, salt and pepper beard. His hair billowed lightly with the breeze.

The card in the middle — the most important one — was the Lovers. Marco was not used to that symbol setting the tone of his readings. On the other hand, it was no surprise to see the Queen of Fishes in his readings, although it was odd not to find the most important woman in Bellezza in a prominent position. Instead, the water queen, which was obviously the Duchessa, sat between the Lightning and the Spring Maiden, two cards he was not used to finding in his readings and thus was struggling to interpret. The Princess of Fishes was the first card, to the left of the Lovers, and the Knight was the seventh, on the right side, and he had no idea what it could signify.

It was the oddest reading he had ever seen. The only number cards to appear were the two of Serpents, the one of Fishes, the seven of Salamanders, and the three of Birds. They were ranged like guards on either side of the Princess and the Knight. All the other cards were major trumps — the Sword, the Magician, and, most disturbingly, Death.

Marco looked at the array for a long time before sweeping the cards up, shuffling them thoroughly, and setting them out again. Queen of Fishes — he was not surprised to see her occupy a prominent position this time —, the Magician, seven of Salamanders, Lightning, one of Fishes, the Knight, the Lovers, Princess of Fishes, two of Serpents, the Spring Maiden, three of Birds, and Death. By the time he set the Sword down in the middle, Marco's hands were shaking. He had dealt exactly the same cards, albeit in a different pattern, and now danger was reigning over all. And this time, the Duchessa was trapped between it and Death.

Hastily, he swept the cards up again and wrapped them in their black silk. He stowed them in a sack at his feet and removed from it a velvet bag containing glass stones. Closing his eyes, he put a hand in the bag and drew out a handful of the stones, which he cast lightly on the table top, where they glittered in the candlelight.

Each nugget of shining glass had a silver emblem embedded in the middle. Marco identified a crown, a sword, a mask, the number seven, a lock of hair, a clock — he started when he saw the clock.

Then he stood up. "Abbonanza again," he murmured, holding the piece of smooth purple glass containing the silver crown.

He walked back to the table and took a pair of twelve-sided dice from his bag. Four and three he threw, six and one, two and five — wherever he looked tonight the number seven kept coming up. That and the symbols of a young girl and a knight. Whatever it meant, it was linked with the Duchessa and he would have to tell her about it. Knowing Abby, she would not tell him whatever significance his divinations had for her, but at least she could prepare herself for whatever new danger was approaching.

OR

Clarke Griffin is recovering from chemotherapy when she’s given a portable drum watch from the 1570s by her father. When she falls asleep holding the watch, she wakes up in the enchanting Bellezza, a Renaissance Venice-like city in the country of Talia, ruled by a beautiful and imperious Duchessa. There she meets Octavia Nero, a girl her age who is disguised as a boy in the hope of being selected as one of the Duchessa’s mandoliers. Octavia gives Clarke her boy's clothing and she is selected as a mandolier herself, which leads her to meeting Lexa Boschi, commander of the Ducal Guard, and Marco Cana, the Duchessa’s lover and adviser. Both are Stravaganti, travelers of a secret order who can move between Clarke’s world and theirs by use of a talisman (an object from the other’s world). However, Bellezza for all its beauty also has many dangers, especially for those who become close to the Duchessa.

— a Stravaganza AU

[mockingmolly]

What if I lose all sight and ambition? What if my heart weakens my vision? What if all I need... is right in front of me? 

Oh I could die in your arms, I could die I could die in your arms, I could die  - Cold Weather Company, Wide Eyed

(clexa art in my 2020? Its more likely than u think,,.)

[hannamura19]

I don’t care if Clexa was a lot of years ago, they always will be my otp!

[clexaprideweek]

Here they are!! The themes for Clexa Pride Week 2020!!

I decided to change things up a little bit this year. Instead of choosing one theme per day, I went with two. There were multiple reasons I decided to do this, first it was because I thought it’d be fun, second because people were going in voting a dozen or more times in a row for one theme (literally in the span of an hour, one theme went from 4 votes to 31...), among other reasons.

So, writers (and artists, creators, whoever wants to participate) here’s what you do. You take a look at the categories for a given day and you decide if you want to do one or if you want to challenge yourself a bit and combine the two. I tried to take one theme that was popular and one that didn’t have someone voting for it over and over again, and combined them for a given day.

Who doesn’t like a little challenge??

Day 1: (June 21) – Artist and Creators Collaboration/Inspiration This is where artist and other creators inspire us with their work! Writers pick a piece and write something that fits it.

Day 2: (June 22) – Royalty/First Pride Is Lexa the queen of some remote country? Is Clarke finally going to attend her first Pride? Or maybe, one of them is a princess and convinces her parents to throw the first Pride in their little country?

Day 3: (June 23) – Sports/I May Have Told (blank) We’re Dating Sports AUs are some of my favorites so I was not mad that this one was popular this year!! One of them is an athlete, the other a doctor/marketing specialist/brand rep. They could be neighbors who rarely speak until one of them lies to their friends about dating the other.

Day 4: (June 24) –Popular/Nerd & Teacher/Professor Who doesn’t dig the popular/nerd trope? Who? They’re in school, or at work, one is beloved and the other is overlooked. Maybe, they’re teachers or professors, maybe they teach the same subject and they’re rivals for publication.

Day 5: (June 25) – Soulmates/Kiss Cam And they were soulmates! I’m pretty sure any of the typical soulmate ideas could fit in with a Kiss Cam scenario. But it’s a fun little twist right?

Day 6: (June 26) – Military/Zombies One of them is a fighter pilot or a tank mechanic. One of them could be in the National Guard. They could meet the love of their life while on leave and have a constant countdown running in their head for when their plane takes off. And zombies! One could be a former infantryman or a medic. Really, the possibilities are endless here.

Day 7: (June 27) – Free Day Pick a theme or trope you don’t see on the list but love. Or send an anon and I’ll think of something for you!!

[unumchuchi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Wells Jaha, Octavia Blake, Raven Reyes, Roan (The 100) Additional Tags: Clexa Pride Week, Clexa Pride Week 2020, Royalty AU, Wedding, I love the friendship between Raven Octavia and Clarke, And Wells is the best boy, In my head this was fun but somehow it ended being a bit angsty, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Getting drunk drinking beers when she hated beers was a terrible idea. But hey, considering that Lexa (Aka her ex-girlfriend, one of her closest friends and probably the love of her life) was getting married at that moment and Clarke couldn’t do anything to stop it, then getting drunk didn’t sound so bad.

[clarketomylexa]

Inside Clarke’s Phone x The Roommate

[gurj14]

An Arrangement (clexa)

Clarke is stuck with only one viable choice from ultra wealthy Olympia Woods: marry her daughter Lexa Woods or suffer the consequences of refusing.

Clarke and Lexa agree to an arranged marriage.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973297/chapters/60457414

[stormblessed95]

jk is only listening to music ffs! and he's always been into angsty music! he's at peace, doig his him, for him. not for any of us.

do this people call themselves fans? really? just a few days ago there were people wishing covid on him, now they want him to be down in the dumps? yeah... some fans...

Anon 2: the whiplash I have from the jikook space today is wild. Yesterday everyone was so happy because of 1108 and now its "oh no look at his song rec today did they break up? we haven't seen them together what's wrong" I don't know how some of you bloggers have the genuine patience. I understand caring about two people and wanting them to be happy, I do. We obviously love their bond thats why we love coming to this space to talk but I did not expect this level of like "upset" during their break.

Anon 3: sometimes reading your anons makes me loose a few braincells and that must only be the tame ones I can imagine. my heart goes out to you and all the other bloggers and thank you for doing this despite all of that, I´ve had a lot of fun reading through your blog :)

(Minor break from Octavia for the Clexa ship love too 😍)

Anon 4: I hope JK doesn't stop sharing music cause I am really enjoying them and a lotta great songs are getting added to my playlists! Why can't people just enjoy the recs and leave it as it is. 😞 Side note: Thank you for compiling all his music recommendations from earlier. It definitely seemed like so much work and I am so grateful that you took the time to do that. It was such a blessing and I found some songs that I really enjoyed!

Thank you all for the kind words! And I'm grouping them together here because it was kind words and venting frustrations about the same topic. And anon 4, I'm glad you found and liked the post! I have another ask waiting to be answered about a continuation for his song recs, since that one was just from twt and YouTube recs/covers through 2020. I'll need to find the time to sit and go through everything since then and from other platforms as well, but I do have that in my inbox and will get to it in the coming weeks 🥰

(I'm just obsessing over this show today, sorry!)

[kloxbian]

Old Romance, Retold, Exactly in the Ancient Way

Synopsis:

“So,” Clarke said, leaning back against Lexa’s shoulder. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Threatening people at swordpoint? How could I not?”

“Hmm. That reminds me.” Clarke reached a hand to curl around Lexa’s head, scratching her scalp before drawing her sword from its sheath. “No weapons while drunk.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not even drunk yet."

-

Or the pirate AU where they raid a ship and then get drunk and have sex

WARNING: Contains mature content (i.e sex). Very heavy on dom/sub

Notes:  Inspired by the famous female pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read, who sailed alongside Calico Jack on the ship William, who were even believed by some to have been romantically involved. I thought it was fitting.

And because this is smut, I technically can’t post it here, so

Read it on Ao3

[clexacannonweek]

ClexaCanonWeek

Hello Kru!

I’m here to share an idea that’s been on my mind for awhile now. Thanks to the happiness that Clextober and Clexmas brought me last year, and Clexaweek last month, I’ve decided to fully formulate the draft of an idea I had for September 30th, and share it with this amazing fandom of ours.

As we all know, Clexaweek was created from the sorrow of losing Lexa on March 3rd, 2016. I would like to think I’m not the only one who thought it would be awesome to have a week like that, but instead celebrating the happiness that Lexa’s return brought us on September 30th, 2020

I’ve been struggling to find out how to do this, but I finally came with a solid list of how I would like it to be. From the beginning I knew I wanted it to be something Canon/fix-it related, so here’s how I put the themes

Day 1: Set on Season 1-2

Day 2: Set on Season 3

Day 3: Set on Season 4-5

Day 4: Set on Season 6

Day 5: Set on Season 7

Day 6: Future from any Season

Day 7: Free day on Canon Divergence

So “Set on…” means any situation you want to create as long as it is part of the chosen season/s’ timeline, you can make any change you want from the past, but the fic must start on your chosen season’s time. For example, Day 3: Set on Season 4-5, you can change anything you want from previous seasons -Role Reversal/Origins, eliminate or add secondary characters, fix a previous season, etc- and set your story on seasons 4-5 timeline -Becca’s island, praimfaya, bunker, Ring, Shallow Valley with Madi, fighting Eligius, etc.

“Future from Any Season” means “X Years/Months after Season X Fix-it” For example, “3 Years after Season 2 Fix-it” Not necessary to fully explain -write said part- how such season was fixed, just some always needed Clexa fluff on your own version of Canon divergence, on any future time.

And then of course free day, do whatever you want on the 100 world.

If you have any ideas, thoughts or questions to contribute to this idea, don’t hesitate to send me an ask or DM me, your feedback is truly appreciated. You could also share this post and share this account around the fandom so we can reach as many creative minds as we can!

I’m still not certain about the dates yet, but most likely at the end of September, I’ll keep you updated!

[fandom]

Ships

Week Ending September 14th, 2020

Lumity Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Bellarke Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, The 100

Zukka +2 Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender 

Catradora Catra & Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Destiel +2 Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural 

Korrasami +3 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra 

Joe x Nicky -1 Joe (Yusuf Al-Kaysani) & Nicky (Niccolò di Genova), The Old Guard 

Geraskier Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier, The Witcher

Supercorp +5 Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Supergirl 

Clexa Clarke Griffin & Commander Lexa, The 100

Jikook -1 Park Jimin & Jeon Jungkook, BTS

Wangxian +1 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi 

Drarry +2 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe 

Wayhaught -11 Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp

Dreamnotfound Dreamwastaken & GeorgeNotFound, YouTubers

Zutara -4 Zuko & Katara, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Jonmartin -6 Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives 

Kiribaku Kirishima Eijirou & Bakugou Katsuki, Boku No Hero Academia 

Bakudeku -2 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku No Hero Academia

Levihan Levi Ackerman & Hanji Zoe, Attack on Titan

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous week. The ones in bold weren’t on the list last week.

[100hearteyes]

Clexa Week 2020 - Day 7 - Free Day

(thank you @butmakeitgayblog for beta'ing and cheering me on 🙌 and @dreamsaremywords for helping me avoid the pitchforks and torches)

Read it on AO3.

–

Eventide

“Your Majesty?”

A queen did not start.

A queen did not get distracted while being courted by a handsome foreign duke, either, but Clarke had never been quite like her peers, for better and for worse.

She dragged her gaze from the horizon line and met the kind eyes of Duke Finneas; a boy who meant well but could never be her equal match.

Perhaps he too meant well. Though Clarke’s heart yearned for the kind of devotion he would give, her brain craved a wicked mind like hers. Someone just as brilliant and terrible as her.

Someone else.

“You are distracted today.”

He said it kindly, amusement clear in his voice, and Clarke hated him for it. Still she bowed her head, as she should, and blushed like the besotted girl she was supposed to be.

“My apologies, Finn.” He preened at hearing the sound of his nickname, as he had asked her to call him by it countless times before. “I sent the best of my Queensguard to the border and they are expected to return today. I can barely wait to hear whatever news they bring me. And I am… naturally worried about their safety.”

He smiled softly at her. “Few would be so concerned about the lives of those who are sworn to protect them. You have a noble heart, my queen.”

The irony almost made her smile.

--

The Captain of the Queensguard knelt before her, head bowed and a fist closed upon the left breastplate of ornate, light grey armor.

“As I am sure you remember, Your Majesty, your cousin, Earl Aden, lost both his parents to the harsh bite of winter this year. He has requested to spend the next winter with you, so as to avoid further tragedy.”

Clarke nodded, thinking fondly of the boy with unruly blonde curls and a gentle smile. “I shall make arrangements in that regard. Is there anything else?”

“Your Majesty, the rest of the information I bring you,” distrustful eyes landed on Prince Finneas, “is meant for your ears only.”

Clarke did her best not to roll her eyes. The Captain of her Queensguard was extraordinarily competent, dedicated, and brave, but had a drastic tendency to be dramatic. There was no need for such showmanship, yet the Captain seemed intent on fanning out feathers and strutting back and forth like a peacock.

“If you say so, Captain,” she conceded at last. “Would you care to accompany me to the balcony?”

The Captain stood up and the two of them strolled past the thick curtains that separated the throne room from a balcony that oversaw acres upon acres of beautiful, green fields and thick forests.

Clarke walked up to the railing, resting both her hands on it. At times like this, it was soothing to feel the rough stone under her palms, scraping at the fair skin.

It grounded her.

She steeled herself as she felt the Captain sidle in next to her.

“Did you have a safe trip home?”

Clarke felt more than she saw the Captain nod next to her. She hadn’t expected any different. When she glanced at the elegant figure next to her, she found the Captain’s gaze trained on the horizon.

“What sensitive information is this that you requested a private audience?”

Green eyes finally met her own, dancing with mischief and something else tender and forbidden. “Everything was in order while we were there.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “So you wasted your queen’s precious time to tell her everything is exactly as it should be?”

The sky was painted in broad, reckless strokes of pink and purple, and the sun had started to hide behind the skyline. The moon would soon take its place on the throne with the stars as her witness.

“I would not go so far as to say it was a waste of time.” The Captain’s tone was teasing, but laced with fondness. “I gave you the chance to see the sunset, I know how much you like it.”

Clarke liked the night best. It was at night that stolen moments were a solution rather than a problem and sneaking, when the palace was cold and silent, didn’t feel so scandalous anymore. Sunsets were the promise of night. A promise that just for a few hours, she could take the crown off her head, leave the corset on the bed, and be just Clarke. The girl in love with another girl.

“Your absence was felt.”

Lexa’s lips twisted minutely. When she spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “Be careful, my Queen. The walls have ears.”

The Captain’s cautious words were betrayed by the tips of long fingers brushing against Clarke’s on the balcony rail.

Their hands were concealed by coats and dresses, but Lexa’s touch was featherlight nonetheless. It still gave Clarke pause; her entire body’s focus was on the points where their skin came into contact and her heart was a fist banging at the doors of her chest. It wanted out, as it always had; it yearned to flee its golden cage and tell the secrets the walls around them would have killed to hear.

“The stars have eyes, too.”

“Luckily, they haven’t mouths to tell a secret.”

Lexa’s words may have been meant to be soothing, but they awakened Clarke’s mind. They reminded her of the boy in the throne room, of long walks along the palace gardens and the crown atop her head.

“Duke Finneas of Traisson will be staying at the palace for a few weeks. He has stated his intention to court me.”

It was only because she was so attuned to Lexa’s touch that Clarke felt the sudden absence of delicate fingers against her own, so light had the pressure been to begin with. Nevertheless, it felt like a stab to her chest. The world around her dimmed, colors became duller. Clarke felt trapped in a world in tones of grey.

“He took me to the orchards. It seems to be a popular spot for courtship.”

“What makes you say that?”

“We found this… carving on a tree. Very queer.” A smile played at the edge of her lips, teasing at more carefree times. She found it mirrored in the Captain’s clever eyes. “Couples ought to be more discreet, don’t you think?”

“They ought to.”

--

“Can a queen ever marry for love?”

The bench they sat on, made of stone only, wasn’t the most comfortable to perch on. However, the way the moonlight slanted and made the orchards look like a pathway to heaven more than compensated for a stiff behind. When she turned and saw how Lexa’s features looked in the same light — cheekbones sharper, lips fuller and eyes prettier than she had ever seen them —, Clarke realized she could spend days sitting on that bench, never moving.

Lexa looked like those otherworldly spirits mythology books told tales about, so impossibly, painfully beautiful one may turn to stone just from looking into her eyes. Clarke would’ve taken that risk. She would’ve dared never moving again for just one chance to bask in the glow of Lexa’s eyes. For all of the Captain’s aloofness and penchant for speaking as few words as possible, her eyes spoke loudest than any Clarke had ever seen. Their expressiveness… The way they could never hide what Lexa was feeling… Clarke had tried to replicate them on paper countless times, only to come up short. She’d usually get the shape, the lights, and the shadows right, but— something in those eyes was simply unrepeatable.

Human hands couldn’t recreate it. Lexa had been shaped by the gods, and her eyes were the map to eternity.

And Clarke was always oh so close to unlocking the secret, to reaching the summit, but something always pushed her off a cliff and sent her hurtling back to the ground.

“Love is weakness, Your Majesty.”

Clarke was used to the impact. It didn’t hurt any less. Still, she stood, then and again, and braced herself for the climb. One day she would make it to the top.

“And civilizations are fickle. History is ephemeral. We live and die and whatever mark we leave on this world can easily be erased by war and pillage. Love is forever.”

“It lasts only as long as those who feel it.”

“No,” she countered, stubborn as ever. “It lasts longer. Love is immaterial, it lingers in the air around us, beneath our breaths and through this life and the next. Castles and parchment stay here until someone burns them. Love travels with us to the afterlife.”

Lexa stood up without a word and waited for Clarke to do the same, before taking off on a brisk pace towards the castle.

Catching up to Lexa was neither easy nor dignified, but Clarke eventually fell into step with the Captain, who took pity on her and slowed her pace to a languid stroll. Now going at an appropriate pace for a queen, Clarke took her chance to admire the trees around her, with ripe fruit hanging from thin branches and pulling them towards the ground.

No matter the heights one reached, gravity always did its bidding and pulled one back to earth. Clarke felt its effect now. She had reached for the stars once and been pulled so violently back she’d lost her footing. Then again, and again, and again. Every time, Lexa was there to catch her fall. And Clarke would swear the earth had turned upside down, it had to have, for Lexa was the very stars she had been trying to grasp.

How lucky she was, to touch the stars without having to lift her feet off the ground.

It had only been much later in life, when she’d been told to find a husband or doom her kingdom to ruin, that Clarke had realized just how cruel it all really was — the stars would always be within her reach but she would never be able to catch them.

Why love a star if you cannot have her heart?

As they neared the edge, Lexa halted, eyes locked on a tree in one of the final rows. Clarke followed her gaze and felt her lips sketch an outline of a smile.

Feeling reckless, Clarke followed a short, but uneven trail towards the tree and laid a hand on the rough bark. Her palm grazed the bumps and ridges of an age old carving and she read the words without seeing them.

L + C

Feelings cut into wood a lifetime ago, indelible as they were immutable, able to endure generations for the robustness of their canvas. Only human hands could erase them; only human words could disprove them.

Clarke felt Lexa’s presence behind her and turned around, her hand never leaving its home. They shared a secret smile, although Lexa’s was somber as her eyes swept over the entire orchard. One of many trees. As if it ever fell, it could be replaced with another. The earth it drank from and gave its strength to, however, could not.

Clarke knew the knife was coming before it embedded itself in her heart.

“If we are to be judged at the gates to heaven,” Lexa started, voice not quite trembling, though thin and weighed down by regret, “let it be because I failed my heart rather than the people I am sworn to protect, above all you.”

Clarke knew that song from heart. Lexa would’ve died before being selfish and taking something, or someone, for herself. And Clarke would’ve given her the world, yet she couldn’t afford to relinquish the political hold on her own heart.

Clarke and Lexa held the axe in their hands and little by little they were chipping away at the trunk. Human hands and human words.

Lexa turned around, ready to return to the palace. She stopped only at the sound of Clarke’s voice, scraping like sharp claws against the walls of her throat. “One day they will weigh my heart and find it heavy with sin and regret. None greater than for allowing the world to convince me to let go of you.”

--

“Duke Finneas proposed today.”

Clarke could see Lexa stiffen despite the dim light. The Captain turned on her heels and approached the window, laying a quivering hand on the parapet, back turned to her sovereign.

It was unusual for the Queen to visit her Captain’s quarters. The rumor mill surely would’ve started running the moment Clarke stepped inside Lexa’s chambers if not for the circumstances they found themselves in.

Lexa’s room was as Spartan as could be in a royal palace. Moonlight shrouded it in mystery, much as it did its owner’s expression, whose features were unreadable from ten feet away.

Words weren’t a clue, either, when spoken blankly. “Have you given him an answer?”

Clarke desperately wanted to let the ensuing silence speak for her, but she knew she owed Lexa a proper answer. She, who helped take down their tree, should swing the axe.

“I said yes.”

For a moment, Clarke thought she saw Lexa’s knees buckle and she might collapse. However, the Captain stood tall and brave, and Clarke admired her so for her stalwart asceticism.

“I see.” Lexa’s voice was brittle, no more than a murmur, and it was only the grim silence that carried it to Clarke and cut her with it.

Clarke bled, and with the pain came resolve. She took a step forward, then another, and a third. A deep breath later, she’d gathered the courage to take the leap.

“It’s my last night of freedom. We could finally—”

“No,” Lexa interrupted, turning to face her.

The Captain’s tone left no room for discussion, but Clarke had never been one to be content with the space she was assigned. She felt the need to push the walls, expand the perimeter and win back the room she had been denied.

So she stepped closer even, broaching Lexa’s personal space. “I cannot fathom a world where I don’t know the taste of your lips.”

Lexa’s eyes shone with agony, as though Clarke had struck a dagger to her gut and was twisting, and twisting, and twisting. They were mere inches asunder, so close Clarke could feel Lexa’s shallow breath on her cheek. She couldn’t remember a time there had been less than the width of her crown between them.

“You can’t say things like that, Clarke. Not when—”

Lexa reached for Clarke’s face, but froze before allowing herself to touch. Her hand hovered, fingers yearning and twitching minutely above a pale cheek. “I shan’t let you disgrace yourself for me.”

Clarke closed her eyes, sighing, mustering the courage to lean away from Lexa’s absent touch and speak the words that lingered in the back of her mind since she’d said yes.

“Then I am letting you go.”

Lexa lowered her hand as though she’d been burned, but made no other motion to draw back. She remained steadfast as Clarke watched the questions flit across her eyes, all of them going unasked.

All but one.

“Why?”

Clarke swallowed, though it did nothing to untie the knot in her throat. “I am setting you free,” she husked, resisting the ever-present urge to take Lexa’s hands in hers. “I can find another captain, someone you would recommend. Just… Please go, Lexa. Find someone else. Love someone else. Be happy.”

This time, Lexa recoiled, face twisting with resentment. She would have looked less affronted had Clarke slapped her.

For once, Clarke wished the stars would bear witness to one of their trysts and grow mouths to yell at Lexa to go and never look back — to love someone else, anyone else. Someone who would not chain her to a love story without closure.

No great epopee ever ended with a broken heart.

“I will not leave, Clarke. I shall stay and see you married and love you like the day I carved my soul into a tree.” Lexa took a step towards her, closing the rift she’d created moments ago. Clarke counted the lashes resting on the elegant bow of her cheeks, long and dark and thick like the night that hid them from prying eyes and outstretched ears. Lexa’s lips were parted and Clarke would have given her kingdom to be able to brush a finger over the bottom one; to feel the supple flesh give under her thumb. Longing green eyes danced between Clarke’s own and dropped to her lips for just a moment, before once again plunging into pools of midday sky blue. “Who I love is not my choice to make. My heart has never been my own, Clarke. I believe you’ve held it in your hands since long before we were even born into this life.”

No great tragedy ever ended with a smile.

--

Clarke was dressed in white and gold when the letter arrived.

Amongst a thousand apologies, Finneas relayed about how he had fallen in love with one of her ladies in waiting and decided to run away with her before the wedding. Clarke would have felt humiliated, if she’d cared for anything except the way her heart sang for joy.

She was free.

Clarke all but ran up stairs and down corridors, towards the hall where she knew her most faithful soldier stood waiting and suffering, withering under the weight of their most dreaded day.

There Clarke found her Captain, and something about her (perhaps the light shining in from the window and setting her hair on fire or the way her eyes widened with concern when Clarke barged through the heavy double doors; maybe it was simply that freedom made everything look twice as beautiful) almost propelled Clarke to start crying a river at the mere sight of her.

So focused was she on the object of her adoration, Clarke didn’t register everyone else filing out of the room at the flick of the Captain’s wrist. It was but a coincidence that the moment the door closed behind the last intruder, Clarke fell to her knees at Lexa’s feet, taking flummoxed hands between her own. Her fingers trembled, but she had never felt so steady.

“He’s gone. He ran away with one of my maids.”

The stricken look on Lexa’s face — the tragic, mechanized selflessness — made Clarke love her just that little bit more. “Your Highness, I am so sor—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence, Captain, for I am not.”

Clarke brought Lexa’s hands to her lips and kissed the knuckles one by one, tasting the salt of her own tears. When she looked back up, she found them mirrored in Lexa’s eyes. “What will you do now?”

The question yanked a laugh from Clarke, wet with tears and husky with bliss. She brushed a kiss to long fingers and held Lexa’s burning gaze, unfaltering.

“I swear myself to you, my love,” she whispered reverently. “My heart is your heart, my soul is your soul. My life is now yours. I needn’t a ring to speak my vows.”

“Clarke, you can't—”

“I can,” she stated, pushing to her feet, “and I will. Let the people know I’m no less of a queen without a man at my side.”

If anything, she would have been less of a queen for not being brave enough to follow her heart, Clarke decided. How could she be expected to make hard decisions for her people if she couldn’t make them for herself?

“What about the throne, Clarke? Your kingdom needs an heir, or else it will be at the mercy of its enemies,” Lexa insisted, raising mountains across the road of Clarke’s dreams. “I will not accept that.”

Clarke’s will knew no boundaries or chokeholds however, and she’d weave roads around mountains and over precipices to meet her goals. This time, with or without witnesses, and despite the slumber of all stars but one, Clarke would finally make promises she could keep.

“I plan to train Aden to be king and appoint him as my heir. He will carry on the bloodline and keep the crown from falling into the wrong hands.”

She knew Lexa had a soft spot for the young Earl and would gladly help her broaden his shoulders enough to trust upon them the burden of sovereignty. Meanwhile, Clarke would be so powerful and so ruthless none would dare question the absence of a king consort. Human hands and human words bore the power to devastate, but also to mend what was broken and etch new life into faded vows.

She looked out the window; the sun was setting, hanging new oaths on the sky and yielding up its holy perch for the moon to take. Sunsets held the promise of tonight, when a lifetime’s worth of dreams could finally become true.

Lexa’s voice pulled her focus back to the present. “If this worked… How would I fit into it?”

Clarke had always been bravest at eventide.

With hands that no longer hovered, she grabbed the back of Lexa’s neck and reeled her in for a kiss.

[clexaprideweek]

The poll is open!!

Vote for the themes for this year. One day will be a free day and another will be the artist collaboration/inspiration day.

Clexa Pride Week will be June 21-27.

I want to give writers and artists and creators plenty of time to do their thing!

Anything artists want to submit for the artist collaboration/inspiration day need to be sent/tagged/shared/whatever with me by May 24th!!